Beached_A Mer Cavallo Mystery

by Micki Browning

  "We know where the El Infante ended up—" Leroy started.

  Mer finished the thought. "The painting shows their relationship."

  Skipper continued to study the painting. "That's more information than I've had for some of the other wrecks I've found."

  "Ha!" Phoenix barked from the doorway. "You guys figure out where we're looking yet? Because I just made it legal."

  27

  The room smelled of pepperoni, grease, and excitement. Mer and Talbot pushed two tables together and Leroy set down a stack of three pizza boxes. Bijoux laid out plates and napkins, while Phoenix distributed water bottles. Everyone talked at once.

  "Two Mers?" Leroy said. "I have a hard enough time dealing with one."

  Talbot opened the closest box. "That's going to be the hardest part of the operation. I can find a deputy who looks like Mer, but capturing her personality..."

  Mer slid a piece of pepperoni pizza onto her plate. "I was so close to liking you."

  "Such an injury would vex a saint."

  "Worry not. The feeling's passed."

  "We said it earlier. Two boats, two crews." Talbot chose a slice of Canadian bacon and pineapple. "People see what they expect to see. If we have Mer's lookalike get on a salvage boat and head out to a site, to all outward appearances, Mer is on a treasure hunt."

  "I understand the decoy part, but the logistics are fuzzy." Mer sprinkled a liberal dose of red pepper flakes onto her slice. "I'm under surveillance. They'll know when I arrive at the dock. We have to assume they're watching. If we send the decoy on the salvage boat, what boat am I getting on and how do we look for the galleon?"

  Phoenix held up her hand and gulped down a bite. "I can't speak to the decoy action, but if it helps, we can use any boat to conduct a search. All we need to do is drag a magnetometer behind it. No sense burning fuel in a larger boat when a smaller one will work for this phase."

  "So," Bijoux said. "The Dock Holiday would work?"

  Phoenix nodded. "Absolutely. I'll just be collecting data. We can stow some dive gear in case we finish the survey early, but until we find a promising site, we don't need salvage equipment. Quite frankly, since we're just trying to locate and not recover, there's really no need to have a salvage boat at all."

  "Except to make it look good," Talbot said.

  Leroy removed the straw from his mouth and tucked it into his shirt pocket. "You ever seen Skipper's boat?"

  "What's the matter with my boat?" Skipper demanded, squinting at Leroy.

  "Let's just say she looks better from a distance." Leroy scooped two pieces of pizza out of the box, covered them with a layer of anchovies, and folded them together. He took a big bite and stared back.

  The silence stretched and Mer feared the operation was going to be scrapped before it began.

  "Aye," Skipper finally said. "She's not much of a looker, but she's mine."

  Talbot wiped his hands on a napkin and tapped a note in his phone. "Skipper, you in? Can we use your boat as the decoy?"

  "I'm still here, ain't I?"

  That was half the equation. Mer considered the options. Few people holidayed in the Keys during the first week of December. By mid-month, the roads would become congested—and when schools closed for winter break, a crush of tourists from snowy climes would descend on the islands, eager to shed their layers and wear shorts. There really wasn't a better time. She'd have to dip into her savings, but this was her operation. She should shoulder the expense. "Bijoux, can I charter the Dock Holiday for the next couple of days?"

  "No."

  Mer felt as if she'd been kicked in the gut. Did Bijoux not think she was up to it? "I can't afford the LunaSea."

  Bijoux unscrewed the cap of her water bottle. "The Dock Holiday isn't scheduled until Sunday. As long as I don't get a charter request, she's yours to use."

  The enormity of the offer humbled Mer. "I'll reimburse you for the fuel."

  "You will not," Bijoux said then patted Mer's forearm. "We don't often have the opportunity to be a part of history. I would like to contribute."

  History. This was more than saving Oscar. Finding the Thirteenth Galleon would add a page to the history books. The thought sent a shiver through Mer. "Thank you."

  "We have the boats." Talbot looked around the room. "Do we have the crews?"

  "I've been in this since the start, hate to miss the ending," Leroy said.

  Talbot nodded and shifted his hawk gaze to Skipper.

  "You don't think you'd get my boat and not me, do you?"

  "Not a chance," Talbot said.

  Phoenix scrunched her forehead. "Not to be a naysayer..."

  "Then hold your beans," Skipper said.

  The professor ignored him. "Pulling a magnetometer is no easy task."

  "I can vouch for Leroy's skill," Mer said.

  "It's not his driving skill I'm worried about." She lifted the container of anchovies to her nose and sniffed. "Seriously. You eat that?"

  Leroy rescued them from her grasp, fished out one of the tiny fillets, and dropped it into his mouth.

  "Anyway," Phoenix continued. "Conducting a survey is precision work. The equipment needs to maintain a steady depth over changing terrain, all without getting caught up on the reef. Captain, you ever pull one of these before?"

  Leroy swallowed. "Can't say as I have."

  "Skipper?"

  "What kind of question is that? Course I did."

  "So here's the issue." Phoenix wiped the grease from her mouth. "If the salvage boat is the decoy, we need Skipper on the other boat."

  "That's not part of the deal," Skipper said.

  "Can't we train Leroy?" Talbot asked.

  "It's not a matter of training. It's a function of time. I can have a grad student cover some of my classes, but not many. If we're going to do this, we need to get good data on the first pass."

  "Is it realistic to think we can find something that's been hidden for centuries the first time out?" Mer asked.

  "Ha! Not even remotely," Phoenix answered. Then she grinned. "Sure would be nice, though."

  "If things work out as I hope," Talbot said, "it won't be necessary. With any luck the decoy will draw Bart and company out of hiding."

  The scope of the operation kept expanding. "Which means you'll have other deputies with you, right?" Mer asked. When Talbot nodded, she continued, "So including you, that's what? Three deputies by the time you get a decoy for me? Will you be able to make that fly?"

  "I can try. But even if I convince the brass, it won't be an open-ended operation. I'll have a week. Tops."

  A week. Mer had never tried to locate a shipwreck before, but she had tried to find octopuses. Even knowing how to interpret the clues to their whereabouts, the creatures didn't always want to be found—and they were real. Swathed in legend, the Thirteenth Galleon was still a hypothetical.

  "I'm a bit confused," Mer admitted.

  "The first step in recovery is to admit it," Leroy teased.

  Mer knocked aside an anchovy and stole a piece of pepperoni from the slice in front of the captain. "The question remains. How can I be on two boats at once? They know when I'm on the dock. They'll certainly know when I leave it."

  "We can do the switch at sea," Talbot said.

  Bijoux cocked her head. "If they are monitoring Mer that closely, would they not see the exchange?"

  "Not if the boat doesn't stop."

  "Doesn't stop," Mer repeated.

  Talbot cleared his throat. "What if we send Skipper out to the reef on the Dock Holiday early. We put the decoy deputy on the salvage boat but hide her in the V-berth until it's time for the switch. Meanwhile, Mer shows up on dock, does her morning routine, gets on the salvage boat, and Leroy takes it out. Everything looks normal. But then he swings by the reef, drops Mer close to the boat, and keeps going. Mer swims underwater to the other boat, climbs aboard, et voilà. Mer is now on two boats at the same time."

  Leroy leaned forward. "In full scuba gear? No way in God's gree
n earth I'm dropping anyone off a moving boat. Too dangerous."

  Scenarios zinged through Mer's mind. Most didn't end well. "What if you cut the engines? Act as if you're taking a wave head-on. Can you cut it back hard enough to throw it in neutral, while I step off? Then kick it back into gear."

  "You ever jump off a moving boat?" Leroy asked.

  "No."

  "Even if I can cut it back, you're going to slap the water. Hard enough to rip your mask off and tear the regulator out of your mouth. Smack the back of your head with the tank."

  "Maybe you should discuss this with Selkie," Bijoux said. "I imagine he has experience with this type of operation."

  Selkie. Yes, he probably did have this type of specialized training. But damned if she was going to ask him for advice.

  "I'll do it," Mer said.

  "Has your cheese slid off your cracker?" Leroy asked.

  She considered his words. "Maybe. But there's way too much at stake to worry about a bit of a hard landing."

  "Seems to me you've had enough injuries lately, you shouldn't be aiming to collect any more."

  A pained expression flashed across Detective Talbot's face. "There's an element of risk for everyone here. I'm not going to minimize it, and frankly, I'm not sure my sheriff's going to sign off on this. But the bad guys will be after us, not you. Any of you can bow out at any time. No questions asked."

  "I'm in," Mer said firmly.

  Leroy pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "Well, then I guess I'm in, too. Someone has to make sure the propellers don't chop you into chum."

  Mer decided against a third piece of pizza.

  "I was never out," Phoenix said. "How dangerous is it to gather data?"

  Skipper squinted. "You and me are going to be on the same boat."

  "Ha! Bring it."

  Mer's brow knit with a new concern. "How do I get back to the salvage boat at the end of the day?"

  "You don't," Talbot explained. "You'll be coming in on the charter boat. Dress in something flamboyant. When you get to the dock, come upstairs. You and the deputy will exchange clothes and poof! Mer's back on the dock."

  "Why can't she do that in the morning?" Leroy asked.

  "If Mer's going to be made, it'll be on the dock." Talbot wadded up his napkin. "I might be able to get a lookalike, but there's a good chance she's not going to know how to handle lines. It'd be easy to train binoculars on a person from across the canal. Harder at sea—at least without giving away your position. If we have any chance for this to succeed, they have to believe Mer is on the salvage boat. That said, I'll leave the choice to her."

  "One problem," Mer said.

  "What's that?" the detective asked.

  "I don't have anything flamboyant."

  Bijoux smiled. "I do."

  28

  Talbot was waiting for Mer inside the Aquarius Dive Shop when she reported to work two days later.

  "You sure about this?" he asked.

  It had taken him a full day to get clearance, and she wasn't about to back out now. "Absolutely."

  He handed her a cup of coffee. "Better drink quick then."

  The white paper cup leached warmth and she peeled back the plastic lid. "Smells wonderful, thanks."

  "Deputy Mercurio's already on Skipper's boat." He'd swapped his normal detective garb for shorts and deck shoes. "She'll stay in the V-berth until you're ready. She's a little shorter than you but she has frizzy hair. It'd be pretty hard to distinguish you from each other in a lineup."

  Her hand patted the mass tumbling from the ponytail port of her ball cap. "The Arctic didn't have nearly as much humidity."

  "Bijoux gave Mercurio some crew gear. You'll be wearing the same T-shirt, same ball cap. We got her a pair of Oakleys."

  "Kind of hard to conceal a bulletproof vest under a bikini." Mer grinned.

  "Which is why she won't be taking off her T-shirt."

  Mer swallowed her coffee in a scalding gulp. She'd meant it as a joke, but his expression clearly conveyed he took this very, very seriously.

  "What worries me is the exchange."

  The exchange. His term for when she suited up in scuba gear and jumped off a moving boat. To be honest, the prospect excited her. Not that she was in a hurry to tell her mom about it. "Piece of cake."

  "Well then, the plot is laid." He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

  "You can tell me to mind my own business, but how's Gabby? Is she okay?"

  He seemed surprised at the question. "She's good. It's all good." But his voice lacked conviction. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then sighed. "She's grounded, so I'm currently Public Enemy Number One."

  "Well, of course you are. Wasn't it Shakespeare who said, 'Parenting oft sucketh?'"

  "Sounds like him." His smile revealed his chipped incisor. "See you tonight."

  "Aren't you going, too?"

  "I'll be on the department's patrol boat."

  "Oh." She'd thought he'd be on the Dock Holiday. With her.

  "Don't worry. The bad guys will be after us, not you."

  A refreshing change of pace. She toasted him with her coffee cup and left.

  Downstairs she took a moment and drank her coffee. All things considered, the plan had merit; a bit unconventional, but solid. Thanks to Phoenix and her network, they all wouldn't end up in Admiralty Court for poaching someone else's lease. All the subterfuge would end. The cops would rescue Oscar and arrest the appropriate criminals. Her life would return to normal.

  No, not normal. That would require Selkie.

  She dropped her empty cup into the trash bucket and collected her scuba gear bag and a tank from the equipment room. The weight pulled on her sore muscles, and she struggled to remain upright while she carried the gear to the dock.

  Bijoux owned a long stretch of dockage along the canal with plenty of space to accommodate the two charter boats. Adding Skipper's thirty-six foot salvage boat, the Finders Keepers, made for tight quarters, especially with the boat's dual twenty-four-inch aluminum blowers and dive platform. But the Dock Holiday had left about an hour ago to moor on Grecian Rocks.

  Mer paused by the salvage boat. Leroy jumped down from the flybridge and took her gear from her. "I tell you, if dumb were dirt, you'd be about an acre."

  "You'd do the exact same thing—and you know it."

  "Doesn't mean I want to watch you do it. How are you planning to jump off a moving boat if you can't even tote your own gear?"

  The straw in his mouth spun so fast she expected it to knock her hat askew.

  "I was carrying my gear just fine until you grabbed it. Besides, getting off won't be the tough part." She sat on the gunnel, swung her legs over, and stood. "Wow. Not a lot of room to move around."

  Two large gear tables took up the center of the deck, and a bench near the port stern had spaces for five scuba tanks. Most salvage divers worked off a surface-supplied air source, and a hookah dive system was mounted on the starboard side, complete with hose reels and regulators. A large bucket in each corner held an anchor line. Steel cables stretched from each of the two blowers to a winch mounted between the main and upper decks. Two plastic tubs made it appear that the boat was ready to accept any artifacts that Mer—or in this case, the deputy—brought up from the depths.

  "Gotta make it look good," Leroy said. "Now go meet yourself."

  Mer crossed the deck and entered the cabin.

  A woman wearing clothes that matched her own stood in the galley pouring a cup of tea from a thermos.

  "Hey there. You must be Dr. Cavallo. Captain Penninichols said I'd recognize you by your shiner." She twisted the container's lid closed and held out her hand. "I'm Deputy Mercurio. Call me Gina. Better yet, call me Mer."

  Mer shook the deputy's hand while gaping at the bruise on the woman's face. "Please tell me that's makeup."

  "Smudged mascara, blue eye shadow, and a hint of lipstick." She laughed. "Tea? I've got enough for two."

  "No t
hanks, your partner brought me coffee."

  Gina's brows rose slightly before she adopted a more neutral expression. "I'm sorry I can't help you out with the boat prep, but when the time comes, I'll help you into your gear so you're not twisting those ribs more than you have to."

  "Thanks, I appreciate that. Actually, I appreciate it all." She wanted to say more, to acknowledge that this woman was placing herself in harm's way for someone she didn't know. But Mer didn't know how to put it into words.

  "No trouble at all. It's not often I get paid to spend time on the ocean."

  "Being bait," Mer reminded her.

  "Quit your worrying. We've got this." She steered Mer toward the cabin door. "Go be seen on deck."

  "I'll be back when we're underway."

  Gina retrieved her tea. "I'll be here."

  Outside the cabin, the morning sun bounced off the canal. Mer lowered her sunglasses over her eyes. The boat had two control stations, and Leroy was at the helm on the main deck.

  "Not too late to rethink this," he said.

  "And do what? Wait for Bart Kingston to come find me again? Go into business with Winslet Chase? I don't think so."

  He squinted at Mer. She stared back. Finally, he settled his straw in the corner of his mouth. "Well then, let's see what this tug can do."

  She managed the lines, Leroy managed the engine, and together they managed to get Finders Keepers off the dock. Mer stood next to him while they traveled the canal. He radioed to make certain their way was clear as they approached the dogleg at Crash Corner, and then continued through the turn. From there it was a straight shot out of Port Largo into the Atlantic Ocean.

  "Think they'll take the bait?" Leroy's voice startled her.

  "Hope so." Mer scanned the area. They had to be there, somewhere. Watching. "Until now, they've known everywhere I've been. I'm worried they'll know the northern site is bogus."

  "If they knew where to find the galleon, they wouldn't need you now, would they?"

  She bit her lip. "Winslet Chase is a smart man."

  "Guess we better act like we know what we're doing then." He dropped his hand on the dual controls as he neared the end of the canal. "Skipper's already on site. We'll head out and then bear north. I'll take you as close to the dive site as I can. When you're ready, I'll power down, but we'll still be moving. Soon as you splash, I'll be on the move again."