Page 53 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

It didn’t take long before Ace and I stood outside the same tavern I’d been in with Marco on my last visit to 1718 Nassau.

Due to our hurried exit from GITMO, I didn’t have time to plan my outfit. I’d made a mental picture of a male pirate and hoped for the best. My outhouse didn’t comply.

I was back in a dress similar to the one I wore last jump, except with less cleavage, more lace, and lots of white ruffled skirts. I looked like Mary Poppins out for an adventure in Never-never Land.

Ace curled his lips. “Blimey. That crispy white linen won’t last a minute dragging on these filthy floors.”

“This isn’t the outfit I planned. My outhouse chose this dress.”

“It’s quite the frilly frock.” At the top of the steps, he put his hand on the scarred wood door. I gathered my skirts and, to my surprise, my red stilettos were still on my feet. Music, laughter, and the scruff of chairs against wood carried through the windows.

I followed Ace inside. He’d done better than me, although he could be Jack Sparrow’s gay twin. At least he looked piratey in his ivory shirt, brocade vest, and gray pants tucked into leather boots. Woven into his long brown hair was a scatter of braids and wooden beads. The sword sheath, double-waist belts, patterned sash, radish-red head scarf, and the official pirate hat were a bit overkill.

I understood why Caiyan was worried for Ace as my wingman. He’d blend like a circus clown at a mafia funeral.

“Don’t you think you overdid it a bit?” I motioned at his clothing.

“This is pirate chic. And, I’m wearin’ me lucky undies. Of course, I’ll need to get me grip on a sword.” Ace’s eyes roamed the length of my dress. “You, on the other hand, should be sipping sweet tea on a Georgia plantation.”

I heaved out a sigh. He was right. What had my outhouse been thinking? My plan to disguise myself as a man needed a reboot. “Let’s find a table. We need a new plan.”

Two small lanais flanked the entry of the tavern. I followed Ace into the main room that opened into the double-level courtyard. Patrons crowded inside cheek to jowl. A sordid-looking bunch sat playing cards in the center of the room. The hopeful prostitutes hovered around them.

Ace tugged me farther inside. I ignored the smells of salty sweat, stewed meat, and stale bread. We snagged one end of a long wooden trestle table. Years of knife marks were carved into the grain along with the name Lola.

I glanced around this den full of petty thieves, their minds filled with delusions of grandeur. They stole for a living, pitted against each other on ships captained by the most fearless of their kind. But they seemed to come together at this place and obeyed tavern rules.

“That’s the owner of the tavern.” I lifted my chin toward a wiry man with beady eyes and a receding hairline. “Marco questioned him last time we were here.”

“Better him than the man with one eye stationed at the door. He seems rather scary.”

I stole a glance toward the door. “He’s there to take out the unruly.”

“A pirate bouncer. You don’t say?” Ace got that mischievous tick to his lips that spelled trouble. “Order us some food. I’m going to circle the rooms. Do a deep dive for our precious Sasha and secure our wellbeing.”

“Ace, I mean it. Keep clean. I’d rather not find out one-eye’s skill level.”

Ace motioned toward his pants. “Lucky undies, remember?”

* * *

As Ace walkedthe front rooms of the tavern, I scanned the crowd for Sasha, searching for anyone even remotely resembling her petite frame. Most of the men were either too lean or too tall. If they were Sasha’s height, they were more on the pudgy side, with thick Popeye arms and tree trunk legs. Sasha could use her gift to manipulate her face, but not her body type.

I tried to read the room and got nothing.

I ordered food from the server. We had no money, so the meal would be a dine-and-dash. I didn’t want to board a ship hungry, if that’s where we were headed, but as one-eye tossed out an overzealous patron, I decided escaping him might prove trickier than expected.

Ace returned to his chair and frowned as our server delivered two mugs of the brown icky stuff along with a plate of bread and some kind of meat, that I convinced myself was chicken, mixed with cabbage and slices of pineapple.

“That’ll be two shillings.” She held out her chubby hand toward Ace. My heart stalled. I glanced at the exit. One-eye guarded the door. I was sure Marco paid at the end of the meal the last time I was here.

Ace pulled a small leather pouch from his pocket and handed her two coins. After she left, he removed a small dagger from his waist belt and stabbed a slice of pineapple. “No luck in my search. Sasha’s not here.”

“Where did you get that?” I pointed at the knife. “And the pouch of coins?”

“I borrowed them from a preoccupied pirate.” He glanced at a man across the room currently enjoying a skin-on-skin lap dance from a busty brunette.

“Jeeze.” I averted my eyes and focused back on Ace. “I tried to read for Sasha and got nada.”

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