A Coral Kiss by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

your brighter moves." Jed swung himself up off the lounger and glanced over to the far comer of the veranda where Slater was arranging coals in the pit of the barbeque grill.
    Amy started to leave, but paused and asked quickly, "Is your leg feeling any better?"
    "One more glass of white wine and it'll be good as new. Well, maybe five or six more."
    "And that's another thing," she began, "I have not deliberately tried to alter your drinking habits! I never fuss. Especially not with you."
    He gave her a gentle push in the direction of the sliding glass doors. "'Bye, Amy."
    She clearly wanted to argue further, but surrendered to the inevitable with rather bad grace. Jed sauntered toward the barbeque grill to offer moral support.
    "Can I pour you another Scotch and water while you deal with that, Doug?"
    Slater chuckled and nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. Pour yourself one, while you're at it. As long as my daughter's out of sight, you might as well live a little."
    "Thanks. I'll try not to run wild. Amy says you've had this place since before she was born?"
    Slater nodded, bending over to poke at some coals. "Yeah, went in fifty-fifty with my partner, Mike Wyman. He and I were stationed here back in the fifties. That was when the Navy kept a supply depot on this island. Mike and I got drunk one night and decided Orleana Island was going to be the next Hawaii. We had visions of tourists pouring in as jet travel became popular. Land around here was dirt cheap. Still is, which tells you something about our real estate forecasting abilities. Mike and I bought up a lot of island. When we got out of the service we went into business together in California. After a few years of making money we built this place for our own use while we sat back and waited for Hilton and Sheraton to grovel at our feet. As you can see, it never quite worked out like that."
    "I'll have to admit that little bunch of buildings and shops at the other end of the island doesn't exactly look like Waikiki."
    Slater grinned. "From a business point of view, buying up a chunk of Orleana Island was about the stupidest move I ever made. But from a personal point of view, it was a real coup. Gloria and I don't know what we'd do without this place now. It's home. We've got friends here. Good friends, not business associates, if you know what I mean."
    "The kind of people you can count on," Jed murmured.
    "Exactly. And you can't beat the climate. The book on managing in the aerospace industry I'm supposed to be writing keeps me busy. If I get really bored, I do a little consulting on the side."
    "Did you have another business before Slater Aero?" Jed poured the two drinks and carried them both over to the grill. He handed one to Slater and leaned back against the railing.
    "Another business?" Slater asked, obviously confused. "Oh, you mean with Wyman. No, Mike and I founded Slater Aero together more years ago than I care to remember. Mike was the engineering genius of the firm but he had mush in his head when it came to business."
    "You, on the other hand, had the business sense to make his strokes of genius marketable, right?"
    "It was the perfect partnership. We called the firm Wyman and Slater back then. Changed the name after Mike was killed. Working with Wyman was a little like working with an artist." Slater straightened and took a sip from his glass. 'Temperamental as hell. But, Jesus, he was sharp when it came to aeronautical design. Slater Aero made a lot of money over the years off some of his early work. Wish he could have lived to spend some of it. Mike liked spending money."
    "What happened to him?" Jed watched the last of the sunlight dapple the water in the cove below.
    "Sailing accident. He loved the sport, but was a bit reckless. Went overboard during a cruise between here and Hawaii and was never seen again. He was the only person on board. He and the ship were both lost. Mike was always taking chances. I guess he took one too many. Things were a