We made it, our luggage made it a day later, I've been writing a little. Time for lunch, more later.
Like a green arrow the tall Caribbean pine pierced the bright blue sky. No clouds marred the blue as Jack drove toward the tree. Toward the tree, he thought, feeling like a foolish child on a scavenger hunt. The clues that Manning left for him were just like that, clues fit for a child’s game of pirates. Each time he followed one his pulse pounding, his palms sweaty, only to find another taunt at the end he resolved to stop. He had not told Mona where he was going when he went on one of Manning’s wild goose chases and she had stopped asking. Jack hated the way he felt not being in charge of things. In all his other dealings whether business or personal it was him, Jack, who called the tune. He was the one who sent people running from pillar to post, beads of sweat dusting their upper lips, to do things and get things for him. He was not sent ignominiously all over the place only to be laughed at. No one laughed at Jack. Mona had once right after he had acquired her. She was made to understand how wrong that was immediately. Mona was a fast learner.
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