I love the way islands rise into view on the open water. My own island, Blood Key, lies out of sight of mainland Miami. Every time I leave Coconut Grove, I have to point the boat in the correct direction without any visual confirmation, the island only revealing itself to me as I travel across the bay, teasing me by first showing a few treetops as thin black smudges above the horizon-then slowly swelling up before me as I speed toward it.

Jamaica first shows itself as a dim glow on the horizon, late into the second night of my cruise. Though I know I may be too far offshore to reach her, I mindspeak, "Elizabeth!"

"Peter?" A different voice answers, faint but distinctly male.

I pause before I reply, wondering who, why-worried that something could have happened to her. "Yes," I say.

"This is Derek, Elizabeth's brother. I'm to meet you when you arrive.…"

"Is Elizabeth okay?"

"Oh," he says. "Of course… I thought you knew she can't."

"Can't what?"

"It's the damned tradition, you know. Bloody pain if you ask me. But Mum and Pa insist on the old ways. God knows I've argued with them. Told them a thing or two quite a few times-if you know what I mean-"

"Derek!" I interrupt, and sigh before I continue. "What tradition are you talking about?"

"Elizabeth thinks it's stupid too. She can't understand why you two can't talk or see each other until the feast. I told Pa, you'd already seen everything she has to offer, she's carrying your whelp after all, but he won't go against my mum." His chuckle reaches all the way from Jamaica. "Not that I blame him."

"Can you tell her I miss her?"

"Of course… She says she can't wait to be with you. "

I grin when I hear that.

"Peter?" Derek says. "How close are you?"

"I'm not quite sure. I think I'll make it to Falmouth sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Do me a favor, old man. Could you push on a bit more? Come in at Oyster Bay. You can put up at Sparkling Waters Marina. That way I don't have to drive into Falmouth. I'd rather avoid the place for a little while."

I shrug and say, "Sure."

"You'll like the marina better anyway. The water's quite remarkable at night, phosphorescent you know. " He pauses but I don't have a sense he expects any comment from me. Rather, it seems, he's following his own train of thought. After a few more moments he continues. "Good, that settles it! I'll meet you at the dock the morning after tomorrow. I'll tell Mum to expect us before dark. "

Footsteps wake me as Derek Blood strides onto the wooden dock and paces the length of the boat, once, then twice before he hails me. "Peter!" he says. "This is your craft, isn't it?"

"Yes!" I call out, sitting up in bed, reaching for a pair of shorts. "I'll be with you in a minute!"

"Fine-looking boat you've got. Wouldn't mind having one like this myself… No hurry, old man. I'll wait for you on deck."

I find him sitting on a seat on the flybridge, his sneakered feet propped up on the console. Dressed in a striped polo shirt and white shorts, he looks like he's on his way to tennis. Derek flashes a wide smile when he sees me, makes no effort to hide his scrutiny. "Elizabeth described you very well," he says, stands and offers his hand.

It's like shaking hands with a vise. He's at least three inches taller than I am, muscular enough to strain his clothes to the point of bursting. I match the strength of his grip, returning his open stare.

Had I not been expecting him, had I not seen his telltale emerald-green eyes, I'd never guess he's Elizabeth's brother. Blonde-haired, sharp-nosed and thin-lipped, his skin is too white, too untouched by any color, other than a slight red flush on his cheeks, to think him related to her in any possible way.

He sees the confusion on my face and laughs. "Wait till you meet the rest of the family. Elizabeth changed a few years ago, decided she likes looking like a native. Chloe, our younger sister, did the same thing, but chose to be even darker. Mum and Pa, my younger brother, Philip, and I still prefer to look the way our ancestors did."

We both have to squint in the bright early morning sun and Derek looks at his gold Rolex watch and shrugs. "Sorry about the time, old man. I just wanted to make sure we could make it back to Morgan's Hole before dark. Sometimes the roads can get quite dicey."

Derek waits while I go to the marina's office and call Miami. I manage to catch Jeremy Tindall at home, just before he leaves for the office.

"For Christ's sake, Peter," he says. "How much longer do you plan to keep using my damn boat? Is it okay? Where the hell have you taken it?"

"Hello, Jeremy. I'm fine. Just in case you're curious," I say.

"And the boat?"

"The Grand Banks is fine too, not a scratch. Jeremy, listen to me. I need you to arrange some things."

"Like?" he says.

"I'm in Jamaica and I'm getting married."

"To a Jamaican?"

"Sort of," I say. "I need papers for her, citizenship, legal ID, social security, driving license-the works. And a Florida marriage certificate for us too."

Jeremy snaps, "Arturo handles those things."

"Arturo's busy. You know how to arrange it too. Don't screw with me on this, Jeremy. Elizabeth's very important to me."

His voice softens. "Of course, Peter, I'll be glad to help."

He asks for the address of the marina and promises to express a packet of forms for Elizabeth and me to fill out.

"We'll need a current picture of her," he reminds me.

"Will do," I say.

"I think you need to know, your friend Santos is still calling. I had to talk to him again after he became abusive with Emily. He said he's tired of waiting for you. He demanded permission to visit your island. Of course, I told him it was impossible. If he tried we would press charges against him…"

I sigh, wish the man would stop intruding into my life. "Tell him again, I'll see him when I get back. Tell Arturo-if Santos is stupid enough to go to the island-he has my permission to shoot him."

"Tell him yourself," Tindall says. "Arturo told me he wants you to call him on his cell phone. You tell him he can shoot the jerk. I hope Santos gives him the opportunity to do it."

"I hope he doesn't," I say. "I'd rather he just goes off, leaves me alone."

"I've talked to him and I have to say, there's not much chance of him going anywhere until he's sure there's no connection between you and his sister."

"Well, there is none."

"Santos is the one you have to convince, not me." Tindall chuckles. "I don't care what you did. I don't care what he thinks. The only thing I care about right now is my boat…"

"Stop worrying, Jeremy. I'll be giving it back to you soon enough."

"And that would be when?" Tindall asks.

"In a few weeks," I say. "If you get all of Elizabeth's paperwork done quickly enough."

Arturo wastes no time on pleasantries. As soon as he hears my voice, he says, "Would you believe one of the accountants tripped him up?"

"Santos?" I ask.

"No, Tindall." Arturo laughs. "I can't believe he could be this stupid."

"And?"

"Jerry Sokowitz brought me the figures on Caribbean Charm, our import company, the one that sells paddle fans and lights to all the big hardware chains."

"Sure, I remember that one. It's been growing nicely…"

"Not anymore. Starting in January, sales started to dive. They're off now over seventy percent. We're losing money hand over fist."

"What does the president say?"

"That's the thing. He quit in January, along with his top three salesmen. They took their customers with them."

"And Jeremy didn't do anything to stop them?"

Arturo laughs again. "Seeing that they went to work for an import company run by Tyler Tindall, his youngest son, I don't know why he would want to."