Declared Hostile - [10]

Wilson was intrigued. “Three days, and here you are on his arm in Saint Thomas?”

“Uh-huh. Anything wrong with that?” She was locked on Wilson, playing with him just by standing next to him. Having been made the center of attention, Wilson sensed he was at a disadvantage. He wanted to continue the conversation, though, so he played along.

“Where did you meet him?”

“At work — Ruby Redds, in North Richland Hills. I dance there.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! Have you been there, Mister Hero?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Well, you do look familiar. Maybe I’ve seen you in Austin, or Houston.”

“Don’t think so, but tell me, why are you here with…?”

“Marvin… he needed a girl on his arm, so I said fine. He flew me down on his private plane to stay in a deluxe suite at this here resort and sun myself all day by the pool. And all I have to do is walk in with him and walk out with him. That’s it.”

Wilson gave her a look, skeptical.

“It’s not what you think. You spectators can look all day long, but no touchin’ and that goes for my rich friend over there. He stays on his side of the room, and he gets nothing, and if he comes over to me, he’ll be singing soprano in the shower.” She giggled, then added, “He don’t care anyway, he just wants you guys to think he’s gettin’ it. Look at him, talking to those important men about investment banking… or about frackin’.” She gave Wilson a devilish smile.

“What’s your name?” Wilson asked.

She smiled. “Mysty, with two ‘Ys.’”

Wilson smiled back. “No, your real name.”

She looked out to sea and hesitated, but was still very much in charge of the conversation.

“Mary Martha. And you, Officer Wilson?” she answered, after a look at his nametag.

“Jim. Nice to meet you, Mary Martha. Mary is my wife’s name.”

Mary Martha cocked her head. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Mister Husband.” She turned away in mock disapproval.

Wilson felt his hand. She was right. He had left his ring in the stateroom. He pointed to the carrier across the water. “It’s on the ship.”

“Um, hummm,” she sniffed. “Just forgot. I get it. You told me you’re married, but I see no ring. Guess you’re holding out for somethin’ better to come along tonight. I understand.” Then she changed the subject.

“Where’d you get that Navy Cross?”

Wilson snapped his head and looked at her in amazement. She had correctly identified the Navy Cross ribbon on his chest, something that no civilian had ever done — with any of his ribbons. Maybe Mary Martha wasn’t a brainless bimbo after all.

“Iran… a few years ago. But how did you know it was the Navy Cross?”

“My cousin got one. He was a Marine. Long ago, when I was in high school. Two thousand four, I believe. He died.”

“Iraq?”

“Yeah, a place called Fallu’jah. My aunt got this blue and white medal — and a flag. He’s buried at Arlington — Virginia, not Texas.” As she gazed out to sea, her voice took on a wistful tone. “I never forgot that medal, almost as high as the Medal of Honor, I’m told. The Marine who gave it to her got down on one knee. He was hot.” She once again locked eyes with Wilson and twisted her hair. “Girls are suckas for guys in uniform.”

Intrigued by her cousin’s story, Wilson ignored her overtures and asked, “What was his name?”

“Rocky. Rocky Roberts. He was a Staff Sergeant.” Wilson was impressed Mary Martha knew that about her cousin. Most civilians would leave it at sergeant.

“How was he lost?” Even as he asked the question, Wilson couldn’t help but notice how the trades gently moved wisps of her hair about her face and shoulders.

Her face became pensive as she considered her answer. “He ran into the open to help some of his men and was gunned down in some filthy-ass raghead street. That’s all I know. Killed my aunt. Rocky was her pride and joy, and he had a wife and baby boy. Kyle is almost ten now.”

They both realized the conversation had taken a turn for the worse. Wilson glanced over her shoulder and saw that Billy and the others were sending amused looks in his direction. Oh great. He then locked eyes with Marvin, still in the middle of the group of men, and received a tight-lipped frown in return.

“Mary Martha, it has been a pleasure to meet you.”

“Where you going? The night is young,” Mary Martha purred, unloading a full broadside of sexual energy.

“I’m sure there are others you’d like to talk to.”

She shifted her body toward him. “I’m not interested in talking to them. I’m interested in talking to you.”

Wilson now knew he was in trouble. Get over here, Billy.

“Are you staying here tonight, or on that awful boat?”

“Neither. We’re going to the other side of the island.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay here? Daddy Warbucks is going to take me out of here soon so he can go beddy-by. Then I can come back out to play.”

Wilson gave her a slight smile. “My apologies, Mary Martha—”

Now spurned, her eyes flashed as she cut him off. “Okay, darlin’ Jim. Wifey should be proud of you.” She then quickly softened her tone.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be here tomorrow morning, sunning myself, wearing three band-aids and some fishin’ line… You need to get a good look. Everyone else does.