Sam relayed the question.

“Five twenty-six,” Captain Hanson said.

She could see the flying bridge of the sport fisherman clearly against the low-lying shadow of the island.

“One thousand yards,” Captain Hanson said.

“Turn the radio way down.”

“It’s going to be a tough shot, Amy. Hanson says he’s lining us up between the cutter and him.”

She tossed him in the end of the starboard spinnaker line. “Haul it in when I tell you.”

Amy checked the clip of Gregory’s small automatic. Four bullets. She already knew there was one on the chamber. She straddled the cockpit, holding herself steady with her left hand on the stay, the automatic pressed against the hailer in her right. She blew the hair out of her eyes. The sky was the color of the belly of the fish. She took several deep breaths. She waited until she could hear his engines.

“Chino! Chino! Can you hear me?”

His voice echoed over the water as if at baseball stadium. “I hear you, my pet. Changing your mind yet again?”

“My husband’s dead!”

“Sorry to hear it! So is Gregory!”

“They shot each other!”

“No, dear! Do you think I’m stupid? You left the porthole open! And the screen was broken! You killed Gregory! Then you sabotaged my boat!”

“Amy, it isn’t working,” Sam said.

“No shit, Sherlock. What’s the time?”

“Five twenty-eight. Hold it. He’s picked up speed.”

She could see it. “Well, tell Captain Hanson to just wait. How do you say that in Coast Guard talk?”

“Steady as she goes.”

“Tell him.”

“I just did. The biggest,” he said into the radio. “The Captain says it’s going to be tougher to figure the shot.”

“The biggest what?” she wanted to know.

“Captain Hansen said you’ve got big ones.”

“Don’t remind me of how scared I am. What’s the muzzle velocity of that deck gun?”

“Not much. At certain angles, you can actually see the projectile in the air.” He paused. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you for what?”

“He said I was the real thing.”

“You are, and don’t you forget it.”

“If your husband’s so dead, Amy, show me his body!”

“That’s sick, Chino!”

“Amy, you’re a common, garden-variety, all-American tart! You cheated on your husband and now you lie about him being dead! You lied about Gregory! Is there no lie you won’t tell?”

“Gregory was going to rape me!”

“No, my dear, he was going to kill you! On my order!”

She could see Chino clearly now, blackened as if he had been cleaning a chimney. She was trembling again, shaking uncontrollably. He had made a killer out of her and the only person she wanted to kill was him. Because of her fear of him. She checked the vane on top of the mast for wind direction. “Chino, you’re beginning to piss me off!”

“Uh-oh,” Sam said.