Miller held the sandwich wrap away from his body and let the juice drip into the sand. He hunted around for a shady spot and settled for a patch beside an upturned boat under a palm tree next to the shop. The food was good but messy and he held it away while he took a swig from his bottle of cerveza.

The beach was busy with a number of couples and a few families; sailboards were the day's popular rental and he watched the trials of a man in his late fifties, bundled in a bright orange life vest try and impress a blanket of young, giggling girls as he floundered through the sea, hanging desperately to the sailboard rope.

An instructor, who looked like an Olympian, scooted out and helped the man to his board, suggesting he paddle back to shore and try something more suitable. The girls all clapped wildly and the man grinned, giving a small wave, unaware that the instructor was showing them his impressive biceps behind him.

He finished the last mouthful and wiped his hands and face on a large napkin and reached for his drink. The figure plodding along the edge of the sand caught his eye and he recognized Astrid, the maid. Miller was surprised, he thought she was in custody and he picked up his bottle and slipped around behind the boat and the palm, watching her with interest.

Astrid looked behind her and all around as she made directly for the Dive Shop. She stopped for a minute to fiddle with her long skirt but Miller could see she was still checking the area then she crossed the sand and headed straight for him. He panicked for a second, frantically looking about for a place to hide and finally dropped down and crawled under the overturned boat.

The smell of dead fish and seawater made him gag and he cursed silently as the last of his beer spilled and formed a puddle under his elbow. He held his breath and listened as he heard shuffling in the sand at the front of the boat and when he looked that way in the gloom, he saw the plastic bag.

"Hey, Astrid!" A voice called and startled Miller. He listened as somebody came closer and started talking to the maid.

"Buenos tardes, William."

"What's up, I thought you were under arrest?"

"It was all a mistake." She sounded nervous and annoyed.

"So what's happening with Charles then?"

"I have no idea, I'm washing my hands of the entire mess."

It sounded to Miller like she was anxious to get rid of her friend and he stared at the plastic bag with a dawning realization of why.

"So what are you doing down here, you going for lunch?"

"No! I mean no lunch . . . I'm just getting some air before I start my shift. I'd like to be alone to sort out my mind, William."

"Oh hey, excuse me." Miller heard the thud of footsteps heading away and he wondered how he was going to handle being under the boat when she retrieved the bag.

********

Billy lay on her bed, her pillow damp from an unsuspected stream of tears. She thought of Miller and his goofy, boyish ways and how she enjoyed his spurts of humour and frustration. Teasing him was fun and easy because he always took it in stride even when he sounded mad or upset. Being with him felt different . . . it felt good. She hauled herself off of the bed and went to the bathroom, wiping her face and giving her tangled hair a quick brush.

Nobody had ever said they loved her before, at least not with the same conviction he had and she was afraid to admit that secretly she felt the same way. Her profession aside, Billy had exposed herself to a man who wanted to be with her and not just to impress others, in fact not to impress anyone but her.

She needed to talk to somebody; she needed the calm, perceptive insight of Helen. The problem there was Helen was very busy with Carlos trying to sort out the arrest of Hector Prince and two of the guests. The noise at the back of the convention room made her frown and she crossed the floor and glanced out the side window to see a furtive looking Miller clutching a plastic bag close to his chest. Billy went back to her room and out the side door and around to the rear of the hall.

"Miller? What the heck are you doing out here?"

"Quick, inside!" He took her arm and hustled her back the way she came.

"What's going on?" She asked when they were back inside and he'd closed and locked her door.

"This." He dumped the contents of the bag on the bed and Billy stared at the bundles of dollar bills. "There's got to at least half a million dollars there."

"Where did you . . . this is the bag I used when I got the money from the safe?"

Miller told her all about having lunch on the beach, Astrid, the boat, the hidden bag of money and how he managed to get away without being seen when a police patrol came along scaring Astrid off.

"She hid it there before they arrested her. She was coming back to collect it."

Billy pursed her lips and began nodding, one finger pointing up in the air. "That was Warez's plan."

"What do you mean?"

"Carlos told me Warez had a theory he wanted to test by letting Astrid loose. He suspected exactly what she had done and he was going to let her lead him to it then arrest her again."

"Well that didn't work too well did it? We have to turn this in."

"Hold it, Miller. Who else knows you have this?"

"Nobody. Just you."

"Let's stash it somewhere for now and go and have dinner while we figure it all out."

"Figure what out? This is stolen money it has to be turned in."

"All I'm saying is let's eat on it first."

"This is a habit of yours isn't it, this eating before acting?"

"Just be good fellow and come along. I'll round up Juan to drive us."

"Where?"

"Miller . . . please?"

Dinner was at another unique little place off the resort grounds with soft lighting, music from the forties and the soothing lap of water against the patio deck. Artificial vine leaves formed a dense ceiling over lattice and the twinkle of star could be seen now and then snooping through. A small sloop coasted silently past, running lights barely noticeable in the dark harbour.

Young men in white shirts and dark pants manned the dining room with quiet grace and as Miller took in the ambience he felt the tension drain from his shoulders and neck. Billy toyed with the straw in her drink and made fleeting contact with his eyes.

"Nice place. Another of your haunts?"

"I can be anonymous here. This one I keep to myself . . . usually." He caught the exception to her rule and once again wondered if she really did care more than she let on.

"You wanted to discuss the money."

She squirmed on her chair and bent her straw down. "If you turn that money in to Warez it will be just as Helen and I said, it will never be seen again."

"So what, you're suggesting we keep it?"

"No, not we."

"You!"

"Don't be an ass, Miller." She pushed her glass away and sighed toward the water.

"Well I can tell you this straight out, I'm not keeping it."

"Did I ask you to?"

"No but you said-"

"I said if Warez got it that would be the end of it."

"Well call me a little confused here but if you don't take it and I don't take it and we don't give it to Warez then what happens to it?"

******

Astrid was beside herself. She paced back and forth in her room, arms flapping like wings of a wounded bird. The bag was gone when she finally was able to check under the boat and she could see that somebody had crawled underneath, leaving a spilled bottle of cerveza. She found out from other staff members that Gary Ordman, Glenda Weiss and Hector had all been arrested for creating a disturbance and were now back in the suspect column of Captain Warez and out of the picture. Charles never saw how much there was. That left just Billy and the man Hunt; nobody else knew it even existed . . . nobody alive anyway. She called down to the Dive Shop and asked for William.