Single Jeopardy by Gene Grossman Page A

things nautical, and who also owns a boat, should appreciate a DVD like this, so I wrap it up and stick on a post-it note to let him know that it’s a gift from a dock neighbor. After rubbing my knuckles almost bare knocking on the battleship-like hull of his mega-yacht, I hand it up to the full-time skipper and ask him to give to his boss next time he’s aboard. I’m sure George will like the gift and we can start that friendship I’m so sure was meant to be.
    While waiting for a thank-you note from G.C., I receive a most encouraging fax from Melvin’s office. In between servings of Thai girl, L. Martin Unger finished my Petition for Reinstatement. Mel’s office filed it with the State Bar, and a hearing date has been scheduled. There’s no indication that Mr. L. Martin is planning on coming back to the States to attend the hearing, but that isn’t a big issue and can be worked out later. I don’t even take time to read the Petition, knowing in my heart that the whole process will probably just be an effort in futility. I don’t want to get my hopes up. After a while you get tired of disappointments.
    It’s late Tuesday afternoon, still raining, and now really getting dark. At four in the afternoon I see some outgoing mail on the counter, next to the front window of Melvin’s houseboat. I know that the kid’s e-car doesn’t have side curtains, so I knock on her door and offer to do the mail. She doesn’t refuse, but doesn’t exactly accept either. Instead of responding to me, she turns and says something to the dog that sounds like Chinese. Hearing what is obviously a familiar command, the dog picks up the outgoing mail in his mouth and walks off the boat, probably to the mailbox. He returns without the mail about fifteen minutes later, soaking wet. She dries him with a towel. From this point on I realize that there’s no way I can ever offer any assistance to this kid, because she’s got everything under control. Now if we could only teach the dog how to make some court appearances… but I’m sure she’s probably already working on that.
    It’s almost midnight. The wind has blown some loose items off of people’s decks and something is floating in the water banging against my hull. If I don’t get off the boat to pick it up out of the water it’ll probably stay there and bang all night long. As I’m down on my knees, bending over trying to reach a floating kayak oar making that noise, I hear a disappointed female voice behind me. “Oh no… damn! Where is he?”
    When I turn around and stand up I see that it’s the doc’s girlfriend Rita, and I realize what has happened. She’s probably returned twelve hours earlier than expected, and while standing there under her little umbrella in the rain discovered her boyfriend and his boat are gone. There’s no choice at that point, so I offer an invitation for her to come onto the Grand Banks to dry out.
    As usual, when it comes to doing the wrong thing I’m consistent. Not only does she come aboard, she winds up staying aboard. I know that this is a dangerous thing to do, but after she got out of her wet clothes and into one of my robes, had a few glasses of wine and joined me on the couch to watch the late show on that big plasma television screen, the wine had its affect and then one thing led to another – and then another.
    As wonderful an experience as this is, a terrible thought just occurred to me: if it’s possible for her to get here earlier than expected, it’s also possible for the doc to come back early and discover us together. In between rounds, we discuss this possibility and come up with a brilliant solution. The plan is for her to wait until early tomorrow morning and then get fully dressed and sit on my boat’s covered aft deck, sipping an iced tea as if she just arrived and is waiting for the doc to return.
    The rain is over, the sun is now up, and two amazing things are happening. First, Rita is having a conversation with