Chapter 19

The morning after the escapade with the rhino, Brodie woke up sore as hell and as stiff as a board. He felt as though he'd been trampled by ... well, a herd of rhinos. Katy on the other hand had recovered her composure remarkably well, and bounced into the bedroom to fling herself on the bed between Brodie and Tara.

"OUCH!" Brodie yelped as his poor battered back protested. Katy was instantly apologetic as she sat herself upright in her pink PJ's, clutching onto DD.

"Does it still hurt? You shoulda seen him, Aunt Tara, that rhino tossed 'em all around like they were feathers! Frank was real brave!"

Tara sat up in bed and gazed at the child, amused. Katy had a severe attack of hero worship going on, and Tara thought Brodie would have to be careful not to burst her bubble as she couldn't cope at the moment with more upsets.

"I think you'd better go and get dressed young lady, because it's a school morning - or had you forgotten?" Tara raised an eyebrow.

Katy, groaning extravagantly, hauled herself off the bed and stamped dramatically through to the living room, where with sighs and mutters she dug out clothes for the day.

Today was the day she was to begin her schooling, and the computer had been set up in Irwin Trubshaw's office so she didn't have the distraction of either Moron or the chow wagon and Joe Petrowski - Irwin's office was the furthest accommodation unit from the chow wagon. Besides, Irwin had offered to keep an eye on Katy's education. He was interested in teaching, and had in fact taught mathematics in a huge inner-city school in Manchester before being tempted away by the far more lucrative world of accounting.

Tara hauled herself out of bed and headed off for a shower, while Brodie lay in bed for a few moments, pondering not just on Katy and her future, but also on Sonny Esposito, Katy's errant and deadly father.

For three hours the previous afternoon he had renewed old acquaintances in various law-enforcement agencies, gathered in a few favours and garnered as much information about Esposito as he could. One thing immediately became obvious - Frank Brodie discovered Sonny Esposito was one slippery, rotten, corrupt, murderous sonofabitch.

A phone-call to an old army buddy now with the DEA had finally given him the information he needed.

Sonny Esposito, aged 35, the only child of Carlo Esposito, drug baron and gun-runner, had been born in Bogotá, Columbia. His mother had perished giving birth to him so he had been raised by an aged aunt in an atmosphere of opulent luxury and casual, deadly violence. Spoiled as only the single child of a amoral, wealthy parent could be, Jésus 'Sonny' Esposito grew up into a lethally charming young man. He was handsome and knew it, and used his beloved Papa's influence to charm and bed the wealth of young women involved in Esposito Senior's drugs and prostitution empire. It soon became obvious that he would not be denied anything he wanted, especially women, and when several young ladies' boyfriends ended up with their brains blown out, he was left very much to do as he wished.

He would have spent his youth whoring and drinking if something had not happened that changed his life - his father was murdered on the orders of a rival. Sonny Esposito's carefree lifestyle ended on the sunny, beautiful day they buried his father in his tomb of imported Italian marble on the luxurious estate outside Bogotá, beside his much-loved wife. From that day forward, Sonny Esposito turned from being merely unstable to downright psychopathic.

From his penthouse in downtown Bogotá he planned and plotted, and nineteen days after his father's death, the men who killed him were found by the police in a warehouse. They had been crucified, hung from the walls by huge nails, their bodies gutted from collarbone to groin.

It was at this point that Esposito discovered Laura Matthews, a girl he had met in Mexico two years earlier and who had charmed him more than any other, had disappeared from the luxury apartment he had bought for her on one of his trips to New York. It had been a wrench to lose her, especially since she was pregnant, but he decided it was no great loss. Perhaps when she was short of money she would return. He looked for her but didn't find her, but he did discover she had given birth to a daughter. At that point he left her alone - if the child had been a son, it would have been different - Sonny Esposito was psychotic, but he had a sense of family. A son would have been useful … an heir. He would have liked an heir. But a girl? She was of no importance, and from that moment he forgot all about Laura Matthews and her daughter, a brown-eyed blonde like her mother and called Katherine after Laura's own mother.

Sonny forgot about her, that is, until he heard from a contact in Washington saying there was a rumour that Laura was talking to the Feds. Somehow Laura got wind of his interest and promptly disappeared. The next time the DEA and FBI knew of Laura Matthews was of her death in a sleazy apartment in San Francisco.

Brodie sighed.

He had asked Rick Mahoney of the DEA if there was any chance that Katy had lived with her father, but Rick had been adamant in his denial.

"No way, Frank," he said, and Brodie could almost see the earnest shake of Mahoney's head. "Not as far as we know. Esposito hasn't been in the States for years, and Ms Matthews kept on the move. I don't think he has much interest in the girl anyway. But we know she's with you, and if you need any help you just yell." Mahoney's voice had dropped into a soft rumble. "She's a nice kid, y'know? We've got people who can help out if you need it. Oh, by the way, if you and your lady are ever in Washington, you look us up. Meg and the kids would love to see you … it's been a long time."

Brodie, a little ashamed that he hadn't kept in touch, assured Rick that he would and rang off.

He hadn't discussed any of his discoveries with Tara yet, as he wanted to get Katy settled and relaxed in her new life, but this morning he had a lot to do. He wanted to go with Katy and see Irwin, then he had to check on the bull rhino and see how his battered team had fared through the night. The two rhino cows were also arriving from Prague, and they would have to be settled into the boma for two weeks quarantine.

But his final - and perhaps the most pleasurable - job for the day, was collecting the keys to their new home high above the compound.

Charles Cunningham had been true to his word, and the builders had pulled all of the stops out to try and get the house and its surroundings finished as soon as possible. Katy couldn't keep living out of a suitcase in the accommodation unit living room, and in the new house she would have her own room that she could decorate and furnish however she wanted. Although the house wasn't large it was designed for practicality and comfort, and Cunningham had even installed a small swimming pool to the rear of the property.

After picking up Katy from Irwin's after her lessons, they would head off up the newly-tarmac'd road to their new house.

Brodie smiled. He hadn't had a proper home in years, and what's more he had never shared it with anyone, let alone a woman who loved him and a little girl he was already thinking of as his own.

But before he could ponder any more on the vagaries of life he was being squashed by a huge, hairy dog trying to get onto the bed. Moron had decided it was time his master rose and faced the day, so took the matter into his own massive paws. Whatever abuse the big ex-soldier let rip was instantly lost in the mass of golden fur as Moron told his master how much he adored him, wet tongue swiping his moustache, and Tara appeared in the doorway, wearing a bathrobe and toweling her hair dry. She instantly burst out laughing.

"Katy! Come in here and rescue Frank while I get dressed will you, sweetheart?"

Katy Matthews, now ensconced in jeans and tee-shirt, wandered into the room and grabbed an armful of Moron. She hauled and muttered and tugged, and between Brodie's shoving and Katy's pulling Moron was dragged happily off the bed, his dark mask creased with pleasure at the attention. Once the big dog was dumped on the bedroom floor, Katy turned to Brodie and put her hands on her hips.

"Y'know, you shouldn't let him do that! It's bad manners to let him get on the bed, Aunt Tara says!"

Brodie, his back protesting at the effort of removing Moron, let his eyebrows hit his hairline.

"Hey, Miss pain-in-the-butt, I didn't let the damn dog on the bed! Jeez!" He sighed in exasperation.

Katy giggled. Brodie scowled.

"What's so goddamn funny?"

"I think it's funny when you make your eyebrows wiggle when you're angry. Do it again!"

"Like hell I will! And anyway, they don't wiggle … do they?"

Without answering, Katy launched herself at him and hugged him, making Brodie blink in surprise. But before he could say anything she sat back, studying him closely. She took in the clear blue eyes and the soft pepper-and-salt curls, the mobile mouth and the strong, stubborn jaw. She saw the clear intelligence in this big man who she knew deep inside would protect her with his life if need be, and she smiled with an open honesty that made Frank Brodie wonder just how the hell he got so lucky all of a sudden.

They looked at each other for a few moments, then Brodie swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable with the intensity of Katy's gaze. He cleared his throat noisily.

"Ah, okay, short-stop - get your act into gear and go get your school stuff - you do have school stuff?"

Katy nodded.

"Uh-huh. Books and everything. I brought 'em from San Francisco."

Brodie grimaced as he shifted in bed - his leg was getting sore and he needed to take his morning pills.

"So go get 'em, and leave me in peace to get my sore carcass outta bed will ya? Jeez, a man can't get any privacy of a mornin' … damn dog tries to get into bed … kids all over the damn place … never a moment's peace an' quiet …"

Katy gave Brodie a smile of such sickly sweetness it made him grimace.

"You're a grump in the morning, didja know that?" she said.

And before he could reply, Brodie was given another quick, clumsy hug and she was gone, skipping out of the bedroom.

Tara returned from the bathroom fully dressed and hurriedly finishing a mug of coffee. She bent over and kissed Brodie on his stubbled cheek and grinned.

"Sucker. She's got you hooked, Frank, you know that don't you?" she said, a twinkle in her brown eyes. "I have to go, hon, I have a meeting with Dervla and the builders - the store-room's finished, but I want to snag all the problems before we fill it up with all those drugs. Take your pills - you're hurting, I can tell. See you this afternoon." She turned to leave, but before she disappeared through the doorway she halted for a moment. "Y'know, I'm looking forward to getting into the house. It'll be nice to have a home again."

Brodie watched her as she set off to her work, knowing she got up each morning eager to face the day, and surprised himself by realising he did the same. The work was hard, frustrating, dumfounding, and sometimes downright dangerous if the previous day was anything to go by … but he loved it. He was creating something, and every day saw a little bit more of the plan for San Miguel island become reality. He was doing something positive with his life for once, instead of destroying. And, dammit, it felt good!

As he gingerly got out of bed, favouring his scraped and stiff back, he thought once more about how lucky he was - a home, a job, and now a family. But now he had things to do.

Fifteen minutes later he was washed and dressed - but it hadn't been easy. Katy, now ready to go, was bored. He was struggling into a clean sweatshirt when she knocked on the bedroom door.

"Frank!"

"Yeah." He winced as the material caught on the gauze dressing on his shoulder.

"Can I watch TV?"

"No! We're headin' out of the door in a minute once I get into this damn' shirt -"

There was a dramatic sigh.

"'Kay."

Minutes later as he was sitting on the bed slowly tying his bootlaces - always a painful job - the knock came again.

"Frank …"

"What??" He grunted with the effort of tying the bow then cursed as he lost his concentration and the laces fumbled into a knot. "Dammit all to hell!"

The door to the bedroom crept open.

"Frank, can I listen to some music?" Katy peered slowly around the door shyly.

But she got no answer because Brodie was leaning back on his elbows on the bed, his face white with pain. She looked at him for a moment, unsure, then she spoke softly.

"Can I listen - "

"Goddammit, Katy!!! Can't you see I'm busy here!!" Brodie's voice was harsh.

Katy flinched, her brown eyes huge with fright.

"I … I'm sorry …" She took a step backwards. Gone instantly was the bouncing, cheerful little girl of only minutes before.

Brodie suddenly understood what he had done. God, he'd frightened her! All she'd done was ask him an innocent question and he'd bawled her out as though she was a lowly army recruit! Levering himself upright he grunted as agony ripped through his hip and back, and was appalled to see Katy stumble backwards through the door into the living room.

"Katy! Katy gal, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to yell…Jesus!" He yelped as his back protested. He shifted around and leaned against the pillows, trying to calm the pain in his body and the thudding of his heart. Sometimes his damaged frame just wouldn't give him a break. He lay there, ribs heaving and cursing to himself silently, angry and sore.

For long moments there was no sound from the living room and Brodie thought he'd really screwed up his tenuous relationship with the child this time … until a tiny, pale face peered hesitantly around the open doorway.

He instantly thanked God that she hadn't hi-tailed it from the unit, and gritting his teeth against the pain he tried out a tight smile."Hey …"

Katy blinked slowly as she came to stand against the wall, still looking as though she was ready to bolt at the slightest hint of bad temper.

"H … hey …" Her voice was so soft Brodie could hardly hear her. She looked at him for long, endless seconds, then she spoke again. Her voice was a little less fearful this time. "Are … are you okay?"

Brodie grinned and silently thanked whatever perverse god was watching out for his sorry ass that he hadn't managed to completely alienate the girl.

"Yeah, I guess." He took a deep breath. "Katy, can you give me a hand here? I'm kinda stuck 'cause my leg hurts somethin' awful." Brodie held out his hand.

Katy Matthews watched him for a moment. She liked Frank Brodie. She realised she liked him an awful lot, and for a moment she'd forgotten what her Aunt Tara had told her on the plane when she first came to the island. Frank's a good man, she'd said, but he's had a hard life … and sometimes when he's hurting he gets a little bad-tempered … but he'll never, ever hurt you, and he'll protect you and keep you safe … remember that, Katy …

And before she knew it she had slipped her hand into Brodie's and she settled against his broad chest, his deep voice telling her he was sorry, and he hadn't meant to shout at her. She gave herself up to the comfort of the soft tones, and within seconds she had forgiven him, the harsh words forgotten.

But she felt his pain as he shifted uncomfortably and she pulled back, looking up at him.

"Do you want me to tie your laces for you?"

Brodie, happier now than he thought he had any right to be, frowned.

"You can't tie laces, you're just a little kid!"

Katy was instantly insulted.

"I am not a little kid!! I'm nearly eight, and I've been tying my own shoelaces since I was four-and-three-quarters!" She pouted.

Brodie wasn't convinced.

"Okay, smarty-pants - prove it."

Katy, the fear gone, cheerfully did so. She even tied the boot-laces in a double knot, figuring that Frank would find it difficult to re-tie them if they came undone. Patting Brodie's booted foot to tell him she had finished, she plumped down on the bed beside him.

"See - told ya." She was triumphant.

Brodie snorted, but had to grin at the achievement on her face.

"Okay, okay, you win. You can tie laces real good, all right," he said, blue eyes sparkling with relief. They were friends again, and that was all that mattered. "So, are you gonna help a grumpy, lame ol' sonofagun get up so we can go get a bite to eat before school or what?"

Katy's face lit up.

"Pamcakes!!"

Brodie levered himself to his feet, Katy helping him as much as she could, and then she fetched him his stick. He leaned over with his free hand and ruffled her soft honey-coloured hair.

"Pamcakes, huh? I tell ya gal, you're gonna start lookin' like pamcakes - "

"Aw Frank, that's sooooooo silly - "

And with a happy Moron in tow the pair of them headed out into the warm sunshine of a new day.

*********************

After a satisfyingly filling breakfast, Katy and Brodie wandered over to Irwin's accommodation unit situated at the other end of what had originally been the compound of Charles Matthew's experimental station.

As he limped slowly along, Brodie studied the work going on around him. To the left was the new medical centre with a small clinic and a dispensary. The secure store-room would hold not only human medication but also veterinary drugs and equipment, for at the rear of the clinic was Zelle’s much-prized research centre. The centre was already up and running, and Zelle spent long hours on the telephone trying to cajole builders and workers into getting the enclosures finished for her beloved animals. Boots the Philippine Tube-Nosed Fruit Bat dangled happily from either his converted parrot stand or from the rails holding the drapes, welcoming visitors with excited chitters. Katy adored him. .

On the right was the new administration centre. Brodie was desperate to move into the building as his office was groaning under the paperwork and Pieter and the team were beginning to complain good-naturedly that if the building wasn't finished soon they would all have to move into Brodie's tiny makeshift office. To the right of the admin block were the ranger's offices and the feeding stations, which catered to the specialised feeding requirements of some of the island's new charges.

On the left was the new staff canteen, where Joe Petrowski ruled supreme. Normally good-natured, Joe Petrowski was a demon when it came to his kitchens. He nagged, moaned, demanded and generally became a very large thorn in the side of the builders, whose fraught manager usually blenched and walked in the opposite direction when Joe's round, bear-like form hove into view. But as far as Joe was concerned, he was a cook, a damn good cook at that, and he was duty-bound to cater for his team's every culinary wish to the best of his considerable ability.

But behind the canteen was where the heart of the island lay - the animal enclosures. They took up nearly two-thirds of the island, and stretched northwards to the wild rocky coastline. Roomy but well-fenced, each enclosure had its own quarantine pen, feeding station and capture area, and they were all linked by a tarmacadam'd road which in its turn led to the newly-resurfaced airstrip on the western side of the island. A fork in the road led down into the valley where the main buildings lay.

Brodie looked down at Katy who hopped and skipped beside him, her honey hair tousled by a soft breeze. This afternoon she would accompany Tara and himself to the southern part of the island. There Cunningham had set aside a vast acreage for housing not only his permanent staff, but for six luxurious villas. Six-bedroomed, well appointed and huge, each one had its own landscaped grounds and a large pool. Facilities included plans for a 9-hole golf-course, gym, tennis courts and all of the usual paraphernalia of rich living. There was a small but state-of-the-art conference centre for functions, but other than that the island was intended to be a very comfortable - and incredibly expensive - holiday retreat to the wilderness for those who could afford it.

But the staff accommodation was just as well-appointed. Each small adobe-built house had all mod-cons and its own secluded area away from the main buildings. Brodie and Tara had been allocated the largest of the staff houses - because of Katy's unexpected arrival - and this very afternoon it would finally be theirs.

As they reached Irwin's unit he came out onto the small steps to greet them, and Brodie was astounded to see the tall Englishman in slacks, sweatshirt and loafers. All sign of tweedy suits and starched shirt collars had gone.

"Well, well! I do believe it's Irwin Trubshaw, but I ain't too sure!" Brodie grinned wickedly.

Irwin gave Brodie a rueful smile.

"I do occasionally wear more … how shall I put it … more relaxed attire, Mr Brodie."

Brodie limped up the steps as Irwin ushered them into his small unit.

"I was beginnin' to think you were welded into all that tweed, Irwin. How's the arm?" Brodie could see the white of fresh bandages peeking out from beneath Irwin's pulled-up sleeve.

As Irwin followed them inside, leaving the door open in the warmth of the day, he flexed his wounded arm.

"Doing very nicely, thank you. It needed a few stitches, but Dervla … I - I mean, Miss Monaghan came by this morning and re-dressed it for me."

Brodie's eyebrows raised at Irwin's slip of the tongue, but said nothing.

Dervla, huh? He called her 'Dervla' - the stiff-necked sonofabitch likes her!!! Wonder what Monaghan thinks of him …

And he thought of Pieter van Guelder, who had also taken a shine to the fiery nurse. Ah well … he'd have to wait and see. Damn, but this place was gettin' better than a TV soap opera. Putting all thoughts of potentially disruptive physical attraction aside for now, he turned to Katy who was dumping her bag beside the computer table and computer Irwin had set up in his neat living-room. His own desk was beside it, so he could monitor Katy's progress.

"Are you sure this ain't too much trouble?" Brodie asked, leaning heavily on his stick.

Irwin Trubshaw smiled, his lean face softening as he watched Katy settle herself at her desk.

"No trouble at all, Mr Brodie. It will be invigorating to return to teaching, and I'm sure Katherine is an adept and attentive pupil. I've been in contact with the education authorities on the matter, and they have been most helpful, and I think the curriculum is interesting and varied. I'm sure we shall get on splendidly."

Brodie nodded in acknowledgment. The more he saw of Irwin Trubshaw, the more he figured there was a whole lot more to the reticent Englishman than met the eye.

"Okay, as long as you don't mind." He touched Katy's shoulder and the child looked up at him nervously. "I'll be back in a few hours gal, and Mr Trubshaw can get hold of either me or your Aunt Tara at any time, you know that?"

Katy saw the truth of it in Brodie's azure eyes, eyes she had come to trust implicitly in the very short time she had know this big man. Mr Trubshaw seemed a little stern, but if Frank Brodie thought he was okay … well, then she could trust him too.

"Yeah, okay. What time will you be back?" she said, just to make sure he would return and fetch her.

"'Bout two, all right?"

"Two will be fine, Mr Brodie," Irwin said. "We won't be doing too much today, as Katherine and I will probably be having a look at what work she has and hasn't done, and sorting out some sort of study plan. And anyway, she needs a little time to get used to studying again - her life has been somewhat disjointed for quite a while - wouldn't you say, young lady?"

Katy looked into Irwin's amused green eyes behind the spectacles and nodded, smiling hesitantly. Mr Trubshaw actually seemed to have a sense of humour.

Brodie sighed in relief.

"Okay, short-stop. You be good and we'll see ya later. And then we got a surprise for you - now don't get excited, it's nothin' fancy. But I think you'll like it." He saw Katy's face light up - she hadn't had much in the way of nice things happening to her lately, and he was sure she would love having her own room in her new home. Her permanent home, Brodie found himself thinking with a great deal of unexpected pleasure.

Leaving Katy and Trubshaw to settle down and sort out her disrupted schooling, Brodie limped outside into the heat of the day and with Moron dogging his heels as always, he headed off to the new administration block where Pieter and Zelle were waiting. The Hercules transport 'plane was on its way, and inside were the two new Black Rhino cows from Prague in the Czech Republic.

*****************

By one-thirty in the afternoon, Brodie couldn't believe the day had gone so well. Daisy and Ermintrude, the two rhino cows, had arrived without a hitch and were now happily ambling about the boma, nosing around for titbits from an enthralled Nasir. They were happy, fat and sedate, which suited Brodie down to the ground.

Asad, now roaming free in the huge enclosure, had settled down and was eating his medicated feed quietly, fifty yards away on the other side of the boma wall. He could hear and smell the two cows, but he couldn't see them. He was puzzled by the scent, but not alarmed, and for that Brodie and his team were grateful. Perhaps, all being well, he would accept the females when they were slowly introduced into the large enclosure in a few weeks time.

As Brodie stood watching Asad through the heavy fence he felt a touch on his shoulder, and turning discovered Tara standing beside him. The warm breeze ruffled her dark hair and her eyes were warm with affection, and Brodie thought again how beautiful she was.

"You ready? We have to go pick up Katy," she said, smiling up at him.

"Yeah. Y'know, I've been wondering how she's been gettin' on all day, but I didn't think it was a good idea to go check on her. Irwin might've been a tad pissed if I did - maybe thought I didn't trust him."

Tara chuckled, and Brodie didn't see what the hell was so funny until Tara elucidated.

"Worrywart! It's all part and parcel of being a parent, Brodie - you worry about them until the day you die, my Mom used to say." Tara's face softened for a moment. "Mom would've loved her."

Brodie leaned down and kissed away the pain in her face.

"Yeah, I guess. But I still can't get my head around the idea of her bein' here all the time - not that I don't want her, that's not what I meant to say," he added hastily, seeing Tara frown in puzzlement. "It's just … hell, I don't know what I mean. It's … well, kinda right that she's here, Tara. I just don't want it all goin' to shit, that's all …"

Tara patted his arm.

"One day at a time, Frank, just one day at a time. She's still pretty shaky you know, and it doesn't take much to upset her, but if she realises that no matter what happens she still has us, then that will go a long way to making things easier for her."

They began to walk back to the jeep, Brodie leaning more than usual on his stick, the stiffness in his back and shoulders making his discomfort worse. He was also feeling pretty damn guilty. He finally decided to broach Tara on the subject.

"I, ah … I shouted at her this morning." There. He'd said it.

Tara stopped in her tracks, but she didn't tear him off a strip as he thought she most certainly would.

"Oh, Frank, you didn't!" her brown eyes reproached him.

Brodie immediately went on the defensive.

"Hey, I made it okay, all right?? Katy an' me, we're friends again, I promise. It's just … well, I had a problem tyin' my bootlaces and my back and leg and my damn hip were all killin' me and … and … she was just yappin' on the way kids do and I snapped at her." He watched as Tara gazed at him in dismay. "Look, I told her I was sorry and I wouldn't do it again, and she and I … well, we're cool. I fixed it, an' it's over with. She don't hold it against me. I told her I sometimes get a little crabby when I hurt, and she understood. She's a clever gal, and she figured it out."

Tara sighed.

"Well, it's done with now I suppose. Are you sure she was okay with it?"

"She was okay with me sayin' sorry and us bein' buddies again, if that's what you mean. Jeez, she looked so goddamn frightened, Tara …" Brodie's face was rife with pain, both physical and mental. He couldn't believe how much the terror on Katy's face had affected him.

Tara stroked his cheek in sympathy.

"It's all right, hon … I'm sure she'll be fine. C'mon - let's go get her and take her up to the house. Things will be easier when we move in there, I'm sure, and she'll feel a lot more secure. Just go easy for a while, huh?" She smiled at him.

Brodie nodded.

"Yeah. When we get into the house …" He held onto the thought as though everything would be miraculously fixed by the solid permanence of bricks and walls and mortar.

Easing himself into the passenger seat of the jeep he whistled for Moron to get onto the back seat. Once the big dog was settled, Tara shifted the gear lever and drove the jeep down the long tarmac road to the accommodation area.

*******************

When they reached Irwin's unit there was no sign of either the tall Englishman or of Katy. Tara ran up the steps and was about to bang on the door when she spotted a note pinned to it. Gazing at it for a moment, she suddenly burst out laughing.

Brodie, sitting impatiently in the jeep, scowled at her.

"Well?? What the hell are you laughing at??"

Tara glanced up and chuckled. She trotted down the steps and handed the grubby bit of paper to Brodie who glared at the writing on it. His scowl turned into a rueful, chuckling grin.

"Well, I'll be damned …"

Written on the paper were three words, carefully and painstakingly printed in a childish hand.

Gone fishing.

Katy

But before they could head off and look for the errant child and equally errant Irwin Trubshaw, they heard a cheerful yell from the hillside above them, and looking up they saw Katy and Irwin wandering down the track, Katy's hair wind-blown and her elfin face alive with pleasure in the warmth of this beautiful summer's day. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and a cane with a net attached in the other. Irwin had a 'boonie' hat on his head and a rucksack on his broad shoulders. Katy came running down the track waving happily, her shrieks of greeting lost in the warm breeze.

"Look at her," Brodie said, shaking his head in wonderment. "She looks like somethin' out of 'Little House on the goddamn' Prairie'!"

By the time Katy reached them she was babbling, out of breath, and so excited she couldn't stand still.

"We got bored so we went down to the beach and Mr Trubshaw thought we could look at stuff in the pools and Big Joe made us a picnic and we went paddling and - "

"Whoa, gal, take a breath will ya?" Brodie smiled at the enthusiasm in the child, Katy waving the net about to emphasize each word. He grinned at Irwin as the tall, spare Englishman wandered up to the jeep. "Gone fishin'???"

Irwin raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Well, it's far more interesting studying biology in the field, as it were, than out of some dry, dusty text book, don't you think? Besides, Katy has a little problem with her attention span I'm afraid, although that will improve no doubt, as time goes on. Her mathematics is excellent, her English grammar is poor, but should improve with use. Oh, and she has this disagreeable habit you colonials have of leaving the 'u' out of words like 'colour', 'harbour' and so on. Other than that she is a highly intelligent and perfectly able seven-year-old girl."

Katy wrinkled her face at Irwin.

"What's a colonial?"

Irwin snorted.

"Someone who isn't British, and they are to be pitied beyond compare, poor souls. Right, young lady, your assignment. I want a report on our trip out today, preferably by Friday morning. Now, I must return to my work. I have had a very refreshing afternoon, but my ledgers - digital or otherwise - await, and I must get on. I'll see you tomorrow, Katy, and I think we really must do something about your misuse of adjectives."

With that, Irwin Trubshaw ruffled Katy's hair and headed off into his neat, spartan little unit.

Katy looked up at Brodie and Tara, brown eyes thoughtful.

"He's kinda weird … but he sure knows lots of stuff! We were fishing in the pools and we found all sorts of things, and Mr Trubshaw, he knows their names and their proper names and everything! He's pretty cool. Where are we going now?" she said, changing the subject in a second.

Tara looked at her watch as Katy clambered into the jeep beside Moron and buckled herself into her seat.

"Well, I think we ought to get a move on up to the house, folks - I want to get a good look at the place and then we have to decide who's having what bedroom."

"House?? Bedroom??"

Brodie smirked at the squeak of excitement in Katy's voice.

"Yeah, short-stop - bedroom. And the grown-ups get first pick, so don't think you got the big bedroom, okay? Little kids ain't got first dibs, especially when it comes to bedrooms."

He heard a deep, noisy sigh.

"Okaaaaay ... but I get my own bedroom, all to myself, right? I mean, I sleep in it on my lonesome, huh? My own stuff and everything?" Katy couldn't keep the excitement to herself. A house! They were getting a proper house!

She babbled on inanely as Tara drove the jeep up the long, newly-surfaced road and didn't stop until they reached the top of a hill overlooking a wide stretch of pristine sand in a small bay, the sun gleaming on the endless vista of a turquoise sea.

******************

The house turned out to be better than they could have ever hoped.

Low-eaved and single-storeyed, the adobe walls were fresh white in the heat of the afternoon. A double garage was tucked beside the house like a chick nestling into its mother, and at the rear a sweep of what would in time be a lawn reached down to a fence with a gate in it. The gate opened onto a narrow path which led down to the beach.

Inside, the house was all cool, white walls and tile floors, plain but beautiful. Three bedrooms lay off a corridor leading from the open-plan lounge, and another door led into a well-equipped dining kitchen. The bathroom had all mod-cons, much to Tara's relief, and the main bedroom had an en-suite shower-room which cheered Brodie up. He had already learned that having two females in the house meant he frequently had a long wait for his shower in the morning as they primped and preened themselves before facing the world.

The huge lounge had a pair of french windows leading out to a deck and barbecue area, and Tara chattered on about growing clematis and a vine on trellising around the deck. A small kidney-shaped pool lay beside it, the water crystal-clear, the whole thing lined with beautiful locally-made tiles. But what made Brodie’s day was the roomy office-cum-den along the corridor next to the main bedroom. The large window looked out over the ocean, and if he opened it he could hear the waves crashing against the rocks on the edge of the bay far below.

The house was perfect. But as they gathered in the empty lounge, Brodie was thoughtful

"We got a problem, ladies."

Tara frowned.

"Problem? For goodness sake Frank, what problem?"

"Furniture. We've got no damn' furniture, or hadn't you thought of that?"

Tara was stumped. Brodie was right - they didn't have any furniture - well, not a great deal. Certainly not enough to fill the house, even though the place wasn't that big. Brodie had given up his disgusting little hovel in San Miguel when he came to the island, and the furniture hadn't belonged to him anyway. All he had was his collection of weapons, his clothes - what little there was of them - and a few odds and ends, mostly photographs of his time in the military, kept in a small wooden box which languished under the bed. Tara had some furniture in store in Chicago from the tiny apartment she had once rented, but nowhere near enough to fill the house. Katy only had her clothes and some stuff of her mother's. She didn't even have a bed.

Tara took a deep breath.

"Looks like we have to do some shopping, Frank. There's a market in Santa Teresa on Saturdays, and we should be able to pick up some stuff cheap there. We can go in on the Herc on Saturday morning and load the stuff up when we come back in the afternoon, there's always plenty of room." She grinned at him happily. "Anyway, it's about time we had some time off away from the island - don't look so grumpy, Frank - shopping's fun!"

"Ya think?" Brodie's voice dripped sarcasm.

"Ohh, that's cool!" Katy tugged at his hand. "Puhleeeze Frank, let's go shopping! It's gonna be great!" She began to prattle cheerfully on about drapes and bunk-beds and TVs in bedrooms, a notion that Tara soon squashed.

Brodie was doubtful. Shopping. He absolutely hated shopping.

"Tell you what, you girls go. It's a chick thing, ain't it?" he added, hopefully.

Tara and Katy both snorted in unison.

"Frank, just don't even start with that!" Tara said, frowning. "You're taking the weekend off, and after we've been shopping on Saturday we can spend Sunday just chilling out and relaxing down on the beach. You could do with the break anyway, you've been working 'way too hard!"

"But - " Brodie was dismayed. This was getting out of hand! He couldn't take time off just like that!

"Aw, c'mon Frank, don't be a poop! it'll be sooo cool!" 'Cool', it seemed, was Katy's word of the week.

He looked at their eager faces. He knew then he was a doomed man.

"Oh, what the hell!" he sighed. "Okay, okay - just don't expect me to spend hours watching you two gals goin' ga-ga over a dress, all right?"

Tara kissed him sweetly.

"Of course not, Frank, honey. Besides, you need some new shorts and stuff - I'm tired of seeing you in those old, disgusting bermudas you seem to love so much."

Now Brodie was deeply insulted.

"What the hell's wrong with 'em??" His old faded check bermudas were much worn but very comfortable, which in Brodie's eyes was all that mattered.

Katy and Tara exchanged knowing looks, amused. Tara caught him by the arm and led him out of the house, Katy tagging along behind with Moron at her heels.

"Frank, take it from me - those bermudas just have to go!"

*****************

Saturday, as it turned out, wasn't such a bad day after all, Brodie decided.

The trip over on the Hercules transport was exciting for Katy, who had trouble keeping her seat she was jiggling so much. The Captain even invited her up to the cockpit, which had her wide-eyed in amazement. A jeep was waiting for them at the airstrip and they headed off in the relative cool of the early morning into Santa Teresa.

The market was beginning to be busy when they parked the jeep and set off along the many colourful stalls, Brodie limping along as Tara and Katy 'ooh'd' and 'ahh'd' at the many and varied odds and ends they found. Tara was committed to spending as little as possible, so they spent a great deal of time haggling for things like locally made dishes and cooking pots, small, native rugs and blankets, and other bits and pieces which would be a start to their life together on the island. Brodie had to admit he enjoyed watching the two of them take great care with their choices, although he wasn't too impressed with the three pairs of lightweight shorts Tara insisted she bought for him. He tried protesting one last time that he preferred his battered old bermudas, but it was no good - his pleas fell on deaf ears. He retired to a nearby outside cafe and sat down to wait as Katy and Tara nattered about the colours of these new garments he was going to be forced to wear.

As he sat sipping a chilled glass of fruit juice he pondered on their purchases. A nearby second-hand store had furnished them with a couple of comfortable sofas, some small tables and - best of all - an enormous old bed made from oak, heavy and cumbersome but ideal for Brodie. He found the bed in the unit far too low and too soft, and many mornings found him stiff and sore, which did nothing to improve his temper. Katy had insisted on a bunk bed, so they had found one tucked in the corner of the cavernous shop and she had adored it on the spot.

He grinned to himself. Shopping had turned out to be ... well, if not huge fun, then at least bearable, and Katy's enthusiasm had made it all the more so. They joined him moments later, arms full of their smaller purchases and beaming happily. The larger items would be delivered by truck to the Hercules later in the day, so as far as Brodie was concerned they just had to kill time for a couple of hours until they returned to the airstrip and hitched a ride home.

Lunch was a cheerful affair and Katy chattered merrily, to all appearances a happy, well-adjusted little girl. She ate until she was stuffed, and when her mouth wasn't full of food it was full of words as she prattled about anything and everything. The only thing missing from her perfect day was Moron, who was back on the island with Joe, as the normally fearless dog was not happy in 'planes.

But as Brodie sat sinking into a doze in the mid-day heat, full of food and quiet contentment, he heard whispering. Then Tara touched his arm.

"Frank, Katy needs the bathroom. I'll be back in a moment, okay?"

"Mm-hmm ..." he said without opening his eyes, drowsy now.

He heard the scrape of chairs and then they were gone into the cafe interior searching out the ladies' room. Women. Always needing the bathroom, he thought. He let his mobile mouth curve into a smile, crinkling his nose and lending a curiously boyish look to his face despite the moustache.

"Nice kid."

The voice made him start slightly. It was American, Texan by the sound of it. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around.

"Huh?"

"The kid ... your daughter. She's cute."

Brodie gazed at the man sitting at the next table drinking a beer. He was medium height, medium build, even his hair and eyes were a nondescript medium brown. Dressed in a lightweight beige suit and wearing a panama, he looked like a refugee from 'Treasure of the Sierra Madre', Brodie thought. A smile was on the man's bland face, but there was something about the fellow that made Brodie not want to tell him that Katy wasn't his daughter. For a moment the thought of Katy being his own child made his chest warm.

"Yeah, well ... uh, thanks."

The man grinned.

"Your wife's a good lookin' woman - must make you mighty proud, havin' a family like that." He changed tack. "You on holiday?"

Brodie narrowed his eyes and tried to gauge what the man was getting at. Although the question was innocent enough - or rather, it had been pitched as innocent - Brodie's hair on the back of his neck rose, but his face remained expressionless.

"Yeah. Holiday. Wife and kid, you know the kind of thing." he said softly.

The man nodded enthusiastically.

"On holiday m'self. The wife's at her mother's for a couple of weeks so I thought I'd take the tour, seein' as it's close to home. Texas - I'm from Texas." He seemed tense.

"You don't say." Brodie gazed into the man's muddy brown eyes so intently that he flinched and looked away.

"Yeah ... so ..." The man swallowed nervously, but carried on doggedly with his innocent-sounding questions. "Are you staying locally?"

Now Brodie was getting highly suspicious.

"What's it to you, buddy?" His voice was low with menace.

That did it. The man got up from his seat and tossed some crumpled bills on the table.

"Hey, just tryin' to be friendly, pal! No need to get snitty!"

Brodie, still sprawled out in his chair with arms folded, grinned up at him mirthlessly.

"No problem, pal … just don't like nosey sonsabitches askin' me about my family, okay?"

The man gazed at Brodie for a moment, then without saying a word turned on his heel and disappeared into the swirl of people now filling the narrow street in which the market was held. Brodie gazed at the spot where the man had melted into the crowd for long moments, and he felt the knot of worry begin in his belly. He knew that feeling, knew it all too well. He had felt it that day in 'Nam when the birdsong suddenly stopped in the unbelievably green forests, and he had felt it on the morning they had discovered that the test baboons had broken out of their high-security cages on San Miguel Island and left two men mutilated and dead. There had been something about this ordinary-looking man that made his gut tighten in fear, not for himself, but for people he cared about more than his own life. This man was a threat, he knew, but he didn't know why - but he guessed it might just have something to do with Sonny Esposito.

But Katy's chatter disturbed his thoughts, and he pushed back the feeling of danger and turned to the two females in his life who had obviously found the ladies' room and availed themselves of all it had to offer before returning to their table.

"You guys ready to head on home?" he said, stifling a yawn.

Tara bent over to kiss him, her lips lingering on his. Katy groaned.

"Gee, why don't you two just go get a room??"

Tara's mouth dropped open.

"Katherine Anne Matthews, just where did you hear that one??"

Katy just rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a little kid any more, y'know!! Everybody knows that one! But you two are real old, so I guess you don't keep up."

Tara shook her head in wonder.

"I think, my girl, you need to work on more than just your adjectives! Come on - help me get this man out of his chair and then we'll head on back to the jeep. If you think I'm old, poor ol' Frank's just ancient …"

"Hey!!! Who are you callin' ancient??" Brodie managed to quell the lingering uneasiness for now, and joined in, blue eyes twinkling with unexpected pleasure.

As they wandered back along the crowded street towards the jeep, Tara and Katy took the opportunity to check out the stalls for one last time, and Brodie, unable to put his mind at ease, scanned the crowd as he limped along, his leg now complaining at the strain of the long day.

As they reached the jeep and clambered in, Brodie knew then that the encounter with the strange American had not been an accident. At least three times he saw the man watching them from shop entrances, but when Brodie finally decided to go and find out just what the hell was going on, the man slid into the crowd like a wraith and disappeared.

******************

Late that night, in a penthouse in the exclusive district of Santa Teresa, two men sat in a room lit by subtle, expensive table lamps. They faced each other across a huge walnut table, the gleam of the mirror-polished surface reflecting the face of one of the men, a man dressed in a lightweight beige suit. The other was merely a figure shadowed by subtle amber light.

"You've seen her?" The voice was silken smooth, with just the hint of an accent.

"Yeah … yeah, I seen her. She's with that cousin of the girl's mother." The Texan voice was nervous.

"Tara. Tara Matthews."

"Yep, that's her. But there's a complication. There's a feller."

"A man? With Tara?" The silken voice was curious now.

"Yeah. Big, tough lookin' sonofabitch too."

"Hmmm." The shadowed man thought for a moment. "What do you know about him?"

Beige Suit shifted in his seat. The job was more dangerous than he had expected, as he didn't like the look of this big man that was involved with Tara and Katy Matthews.

"His name's Brodie. Frank Brodie. Ex-Marine, ex-bounty-hunter, ex-big-game hunter. Bad-tempered bastard to boot. Vietnam vet, helluva shot, mean as a rattler. Spent ten years drinkin' himself into an early grave … somethin' to do with some people gettin' killed on an island around here someplace. Seems to live out there now with Tara Matthews and the kid."

"Is he still drinking?" Silken Voice was mildly interested at this.

"Don't know, but he didn't touch a drop today, so maybe not. Maybe he's cleaned himself up with the kid bein' about."

"Perhaps, Lindstrom. Find out. Go now. I'm tired."

Lindstrom stood ready to leave, but paused.

"Okay, Mr Esposito. Oh, before I forget there's one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Brodie's lame. His leg's all bust up and he walks with a stick. He can't move too easy, that's for sure, and it looks permanent."

Esposito nodded with satisfaction. He thought Brodie might have been a fly in the ointment, but now it appeared that the man would be easily disposed of when the time came.

"That's good, Lindstrom. Now, find out where they are and tell me as soon as you can. Did the girl have it with her?"

Lindstrom shook his head.

"Nope, not that I could see. But leave it with me Mr Esposito. I'll find out where they are and let you know."

As Lindstrom exited the room Sonny Esposito settled back in his chair, a grim smile of satisfaction on his darkly handsome face. Yes, the plan was coming along nicely. A drunken, lame ex-marine wasn't going to be much of a barrier to his acquisition of the child, and he knew then and there that Katy Matthews … no, Katy Esposito … and all she represented would soon be his. Forever.

To Chapter 20

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