Heaven Is High by Kate Wilhelm Page A

the islands, anchor wherever he wanted. Moreover, she thought, he seemed to be fishing for information perhaps a bit more than casual strangers chatting in a bar warranted.
    â€œDid you win the case?” he asked.
    â€œMy client was innocent and was acquitted,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed your films immensely, Mr. Newhouse.”
    â€œThank you, but, please, it’s Gabe. In Los Angeles, it’s first-name basis instantly, and on the second encounter, it’s ‘darling.’ ” He was eyeing her closely. “You’re not from New York, Northeast, or the Midwest. Not the South, of course. That seems to leave the Northwest, but not where the sun shines in the winter. I believe it does in Idaho and Montana. Am I getting warm?”
    She laughed and sipped her wine. “How long do you stay out on the yacht at any one time?”
    â€œDays, weeks, months. Until we run out of water or wine or something else. It varies. I threw away my day planner when I retired.” He twisted around to glance at the bar. “I think the broncos will join us soon. They come to report their adventures of the day, just as if I’m the uncle who demands an accounting. Or to show off a little. Possibly both.”
    She heard the voices then. Several men seemed to be talking at once in a rapid-fire dialogue.
    â€œHey, Gabe!” one of them called out before they came into sight. “You’ll never guess what.”
    â€œSo it would be futile to try,” he said.
    They came to the table. Two of them looked to be under thirty, one a blond with intense blue eyes, and tanned to a deep, rich mahogany color. The second young man, equally tanned, had dark brown hair and dark eyes. They both were muscular, athletes to all appearances. The third man looked a few years older, dark-haired with dark blue eyes, and heavier than the other two without being overweight, just more filled out. They all looked her over with interest as Gabe Newhouse made the introductions.
    â€œBobby Tyson,” he said, indicating the blond man. “Ben Bollinger and David Grinwald. Barbara Holloway. She arrived today,” he added.
    Without waiting for an invitation, the three newcomers pulled chairs up to the table and sat down. “Henry’s bringing beer,” Bobby said. “May I?” He picked up a shrimp as he asked.
    â€œBarbara, do you scuba dive?” Ben asked, leaning toward her.
    â€œNo. Never have.”
    â€œWe could teach you in a couple of hours. You have to see that reef out there. It’s fantastic, second only to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Fish like out of Disneyland. It’s an underwater fairyland.”
    â€œWould you be interested in getting in on the ground floor of our enterprise to develop a world-class playland?” Bobby asked, picking up another shrimp.
    â€œNo,” she said. Gabe Newhouse was smiling faintly, leaning back in his chair.
    â€œIt’s the chance of a lifetime,” Bobby said. “Charter member, all that kind of thing. Wait till you see what we have in mind. Mayan ruins for day tours. A stupendous waterfall, where we were today,” he said in an aside to Gabe. “Botanical gardens, monkeys in the wild, jaguars, also for guided day tours. We’ll have glass-bottomed boats, windsurfing, fishing trips, the best beaches on earth, scuba diving and snorkeling…”
    Gabe’s mouth was twitching, but he suppressed the smile and gazed out at the water.
    Barbara held up her hand. “If I upended my piggy bank I might be able to come up with two dollars and some cents. So I’m out of it.” She glanced at her watch, prepared to return to her room.
    â€œWhat was it that I could never guess?” Gabe asked then.
    â€œOh, yeah,” Ben said. “We get to go see the orchids tomorrow. Santos said okay, since his brother gave permission, he would honor that decision.” He turned to Barbara again.