The island in the Bahamas was Margorie’s idea—St. Barts. She picked the destination because she had been there on business when her law firm took down one of those banks that was smuggling off-shore drug money for her client’s husband. Margorie was a divorce lawyer, and then her practice expanded into mergers and acquisitions when she caught this particularly big fish. Then she caught her husband, and quit fishing.

Kenneth had an idea, that his wife knew people on the island, but he didn’t ask her about it because he was sure she would say, “Attorney-Client Privilege.”

He could feel she was watching him from the hotel.

She had a hair appointment.

Kenneth suspected she knew men on the island—servicemen, and not from the military or gas stations, but they knew how to pump. It was time to hire a private investigator and convert his bank account into gold. He heard about a guy who worked as a Detective on the police force. He had a reputation for being discrete, and loving his job. What was his name? The bartender at Big N’ Little Umbrellas had told him. Gregson? He fumbled for the card in his pocket, that had the detective’s information on it. Apparently, Gregson hung-out by the beach and his favorite hobby was bird-watching.

Kenneth decided to stroll down to the North Shore to see if he could spot him.

There were girls everywhere. Neon bathing suits, black satin, and red sunburns. There was a fat man wearing cargo shorts with a pair of big binoculars, focusing on the beauties.

“Nice day for birdwatching…” Kenneth said.

“Yes—I spotted a Sandpiper, earlier. They have those long legs, but I got distracted by that woman over there. Have you ever seen one like that?” Gregson motioned for Kenneth to look through the spy-glasses.

To be continued…

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