Forty-Three
Friday, March 26, 4:23 P.M. CST
Bailey’s Key
With Jose and Axel gone for the day, Eva now snorkeled with Taffy and Finn in their enclosure, with Rascal doggy-paddling around them. They were interrupted by the approach of an unfamiliar dive boat. The unusual craft wasn’t nice enough to belong to Ignacio or Julian, and it didn’t appear to harbor protestors. Maybe just some lost tourists. Eva swam to the stairs, left her mask, snorkel, and fins under the pavilion, and slipped on her clothes and sandals. Mish-Mish, taking a nap, lifted her head and meowed. Plata, the monitor, lazed under the bench.
Rascal stayed beside her, wagging his tail, as she walked down the dock toward their new arrival.
She could hear men talking over the idling engine. And from their accent they sound
