She was already walking toward the gate of the yacht club.
“Out on the island,” she said.
I blinked and got out of the car. For no reason I could name, the thought of the body on the island raised the hair on the back of my neck, but as I looked out over the water for the answer, all I got was the afternoon breeze that blew across the pines on the barrier islands of Dinner Key and straight through the emptiness inside me.
Deborah jogged me with her elbow. “Come on,” she said.
I looked in the backseat at Cody and Astor, who had just now mastered the intricacies of the seat-belt release and were trickling out of the car. “Stay here,” I said to them. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Where are you going?” Astor said.
“I have to go out to that island,” I said.
“Is there a dead person there?” she asked me.
“Yes,” I said.
She glanced at Cody, then back at me. “We want to go,” she said.
“No, absolutely not,” I said. “I got in enough trouble the last time. If I let you see another dead body your mother would turn me into one, too.”
Cody thought that was very funny and he made a small noise and shook his head.
I heard a shout and looked through the gate into the marina.
Deborah was already at the dock, about to step into the police boat tied up there. She waved an arm at me and yelled, “Dexter!”
Astor stomped her foot to get my attention, and I looked back at her. “You have to stay here,” I said, “and I have to go now.”
“But Dexter, we want to ride on the boat,” she said.
“Well, you can’t,” I said. “But if you behave I’ll take you on my boat this weekend.”
DEXTER IN THE DARK
249
“To see a dead person?” Astor said.
“No,” I said. “We’re not going to see any more dead bodies for a while.”
“But you promised!” she said.
“Dexter!” Deborah yelled again. I waved at her, which did not seem to be the response she was looking for, because she beckoned furiously at me.
“Astor, I have to go,” I said. “Stay here. We’ll talk about this later.”
“It’s always later,” she muttered.
On the way through the gate I paused and spoke to the uniformed cop there, a large heavy man with black hair and a very low forehead. “Could you keep one eye on my kids there?” I asked him.
He stared at me. “What am I, day-care patrol?”
“Just for a few minutes,” I said. “They’re very well behaved.”
“Lookit, sport,” he said, but before he could finish his sentence there was a rustle of movement and Deborah was beside us.
“God damn it, Dexter!” she said. “Get your ass on the boat!”