Eyebrows high, he looked at me. “Gross negligence? As in losing two divers? Won’t someone notice when we don’t get back on the boat?”

My fingers in Rex’s fur moved faster, and she peered up at me with her sweet kitten face. “Well, I wasn’t going to try and slip away from them. I, uh, was going to talk to the owner. Maybe arrange something.”

Jenks glanced at his son literally hovering over his work, then back to me. “You’d trust a human to keep his mouth shut?”

“God, Jenks. You want me to knock them out and steal their stuff?”

“No,” he said, the quickness of his reply telling me he thought I should do just that. Sighing, he frowned. “Let’s just say you talk to the owner and they go along with your little stunt. How do you plan on getting back to the mainland with Nick?”

Yeah, there was that. “Maybe they’ll give us an extra tank and stuff so we can all swim back. If we can’t get to the mainland, we can get to Mackinac Island. Look, you could almost walk underwater to it. From there we can take the ferry to either side of the straits to help confuse our trail.” Pleased, I tucked a curl out of my way.

Jenks rose, setting the book next to me on the bed. “It has a lot of ifs.”

“It’s one big if,” I admitted. “But we don’t have time for a week’s worth of recon, and if we start asking around, they’re going to know we’re here. It’s our best way to get on the island undetected. And I’d rather be out of sight underwater making my escape than on top of the water where they can follow us. We can come up anywhere on shore and disappear.”

Jenks snorted. “How very James Bond of you. What if Nick’s beat up so bad he can’t swim?”

I felt a flush of worry. “Then we steal a boat. It’s an island; they must have boats. That’s not a bad idea in itself. We could boat all the way to Toledo if we have to. If you have a better idea, I’m listening.”

Head down, he shook his head. “It’s your run. Just tell me where to stand.”

My first wash of relief that he would go along with it was short-lived as I started to make a mental list of what we’d have to do for the prep work. “New sleepy-time potions,” I murmured, my fingers soothing Rex into sleep while Jenks went to check on Jax’s progress. “A real map. And we need to do the tourist thing; talk to the local fishermen over coffee and find out what the boat patterns are coming off and going to Bois Blanc. You want to do that? You like to talk.”

“Tink’s panties, you’re starting to sound like Ivy,” Jenks complained lightly, leaning over the table and pointing out a mistake to Jax. I blinked, then turned from the sight of his eighteen-year-old butt in those black tights of his. Married pixy—my new mantra. “And that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he added as he straightened.