Beached_A Mer Cavallo Mystery

by Micki Browning

  More than three thousand patch reefs dotted the waters surrounding the Keys. Mer did her best to sear the details of this one into her brain. She used a barrel sponge, brain coral, and the octopus den to triangulate the location. That would have to do.

  The octopus was nowhere to be found. She grabbed the two coins from her pocket and stuffed them into the recesses of the den to join the third. She didn't know what she'd face when she surfaced, but being caught with two gold portrait dollars would ruin any chance of plausible deniability.

  Doubts crept into her mind and kept her on the reef. Nothing but her own paranoia suggested that Bart was at the helm of the circling boat. No one beyond a select few knew the Finders Keepers was a decoy, and most of those people were either on the boat or diving with Mer.

  But her gut argued otherwise. Sure, where there was water one could always find careless boaters, but this was a crappy day in December on a no-name reef. And what about Deputy Cole?

  She retrieved one of the coins and slipped it into her neoprene bootie, flexing and arching her foot until she felt the smooth metal slide toward the toe. It might come in handy as leverage.

  Collecting the reel, she set out once again for the boat. The anchor jumped at the end of its line and she was glad the reef was far enough away to escape damage. She dropped the reel in the sand. Divers lost equipment all the time. At least this way, if someone found it, the reel's location wouldn't give away any more information.

  The cigarette boat still circled the Dock Holiday, but it was moving slower now. The engines gave a low rumble like thunder on the horizon—a warning of storms to come.

  Dread added a metallic taste to the air she sucked from her tank. She'd done all she could to keep the Thirteenth Galleon's secrets. She had to go up.

  Or drown.

  * * *

  The rocking boat meant Mer's timing had to be perfect. Grab the ladder without a proper foothold and six feet of aluminum railing would slam into her already injured ribs. Miss the ladder altogether and she risked having it come crashing down on her with all the weight of the Dock Holiday behind it. Usually, the time between swells could be predicted, but the wake from the circling boat destroyed that.

  Waiting until the cigarette boat crossed in front of the Dock Holiday's bow, she thrust the metal detector toward the surface. Through the water, she saw Phoenix lean over and felt the tug as the archaeologist grabbed it. Mer released the device and immediately pulled her fins off. She looped them over her wrist and held her position until the stern drove the ladder deep into the water. Darting forward, she grabbed the ladder with both hands and planted her feet on the bottom rung. The Dock Holiday bucked and reversed course. Her biceps strained as the water dragged at her and tried to pull her back.

  The boat stabilized for a moment, and she shimmied up two rungs and held on for another ride.

  Leroy rushed to her aid. "Wait for my count." He looked beyond her to the waves.

  She clung to the ladder. Her breaths squealed through the regulator, but she didn't dare remove it in case she lost her grip and fell backward.

  "Here comes a break," Leroy said. "Three. Two. Now!"

  He grabbed her under the arm and helped haul her onto the dive platform. Another swell hit the boat. Leroy pulled her into a bear hug and braced himself against the railing for balance.

  Mer glanced over the captain's shoulder at the other boat. A Picuda.

  The man at the helm powered down the engines.

  Phoenix swiped the bench clean and motioned to Mer. "He's stopping!"

  The speedboat bobbed about twenty yards behind the dive boat.

  Mer stumbled to the bench and fell onto it, dropping her fins on the deck. She spit out her regulator and ripped off her mask.

  Phoenix drew the bungee cord over the top of her tank. "You okay?"

  Mer snapped a quick nod. Within seconds, she released her buckles and stood. "It's Bart, isn't it?"

  "Up 'til now, he hadn't been close enough to tell," Leroy said.

  The Dock Holiday dragged anchor at the mercy of the swells. Mer shadowed her eyes with her hand and squinted at the speedboat. The blue hull barely distinguished itself from the sky above and the water below. Inside the open cockpit, the captain stood and faced them.

  Bart Kingston.

  Mer's pulse jumped. The last time she'd encountered the smuggler, he'd shot at her. Instinctively she ducked, and dragged Phoenix with her.

  "What do they want?" Phoenix whispered.

  Mer peeked around the transom in time to see Bart raise his arm. "We're about to find out."

  36

  They were dead in the water.

  Mer pushed Phoenix under the bench. The hull might not stop a bullet, but at least Bart wouldn't know where to shoot.

  Leroy hunkered under the bench on the other side of the boat.

  The swells calmed, no longer frothed by the speedboat, and the anchor bit into the seafloor again. But from their hiding places, none of them could reach the radio. There was no way to outrun Bart and no way to call for help.

  "Hey Doc. Show yourself," the smuggler shouted.

  Leroy vehemently shook his head.

  "Come out, come out wherever you are," Bart sang.

  "Don't even think it, Cavallo," Leroy said.

  The non-skid deck dug into her palms and she wondered if her legs would hold her upright if she stood.

  Bart slapped something against the boat. The sound rang out like a shot. "You're pissing me off." His voice held more menace. "You don't want that."

  No. She didn't.

  "What are you doing?" Phoenix stage-whispered. "Don't—"

  Mer blocked out Phoenix's voice and Leroy's worried face, and stood.

  Bart held a black object in his right hand, partially concealed behind the gunnel. He raised it to eye-level. She clutched the rail for support.

  Binoculars.

  Her legs nearly buckled with relief even as she felt the crawl of his gaze settle on her. He had to see her fear. Know he was the cause. Revel in it. She stood straighter and jutted out her chin. Fuck that.

  After an eternity, he lowered the binoculars.

  The Picuda's motors roared to life and the boat idled closer.

  Her knuckles whitened around the rail. She refused to hide. Let him come. Let him try something.

  Ten yards from the stern, he gunned the speedboat into a sharp turn. Mer ducked, but the rooster tail of seawater crashed over the stern of the Dock Holiday and drove her to the deck.

  Soaked, Phoenix scrambled to her side. Her fingers dug into Mer's biceps. "What the hell just happened?"

  Mer sat back as the Picuda receded. The howl of its engines faded on the wind. "They know where I'm not. They know about the ruse."

  Leroy hauled himself upright. Salt water dripped from his beard. "I'm beginning to believe you really are bad luck on a boat."

  The adrenaline dump left her shaking. "For the record, I'm blaming Phoenix. I wasn't on the boat when this all started."

  "No, but he waited for you." Phoenix sat on the deck with her back against the bench. "Pretty sure that means I'm in the clear." She laughed, but it lacked her usual exuberance.

  "Did you radio anyone before I came up from the dive?" Mer asked.

  "More concerned about getting you out of the drink." Leroy offered Mer his hand and helped her stand.

  Her legs wobbled. "How'd he know we were here?"

  "He's a pirate. Who knows what kind of intel he has." Leroy pressed the water from his beard and walked to the helm. "At least we didn't have anything worth plundering. When I saw your—"

  "We should pull anchor." Mer locked eyes with Leroy and gave the slightest shake of her head. The gold coin scorched her sole and she had an unfathomable desire to keep its existence secret.

  Leroy narrowed his eyes, but remained quiet.

  Phoenix yanked off her booties with shaky hands and drained the water from each one. "For once I'm glad we got skunked."

  The
surface marker buoy had disappeared from the horizon. Without tension, it had probably keeled over and was awash on the current. But Leroy had seen it. He'd been on the boat. She didn't know why, but she hoped Phoenix had been too busy stowing her gear to notice the marker.

  Mer addressed Leroy, "Ready to weigh anchor? We're sitting ducks if he decides to return."

  "Waiting on you."

  And it wasn't for the anchor.

  * * *

  The engine noise rose to a high pitch as Leroy pushed the dive boat to her limits. Mer stood at the bow and braced herself against the rails. Seawater dripped from her hair, off her nose. Her legs absorbed the pitch and yaw of the bucking deck as the boat fought through the swells.

  The bow offered no protection. She should be under cover. Thinking. Trying to make sense of her conflicted thoughts. But the spray stinging her face and the ache in her legs reminded her she was alive.

  She liked that.

  Each time she moved her foot, the coin pressed into her skin. Skipper's words haunted her. Treasure was trouble. Not the finding of it, but what it did to the soul. Well, she had found it, and no one but she knew it. Yet somehow, in a vast ocean, Bart had come upon their location.

  Phoenix sat on the main deck, silent. Her topknot had come down and wrapped in a towel, she looked as innocent as a small child. But what did Mer really know of the woman? Only that she worked as a university professor, which meant she was overworked and underpaid. Would the archeologist help exploit a site for profit if it meant going against everything she professed to care about? Mer had been hoodwinked by one academic lately. Reading people was not her strong point. Maybe Winslet Chase had made Phoenix an offer she couldn't refuse.

  Because one thing was certain: Bart Kingston knew their location.

  The sun started its descent and the sky was a soup mix of clouds. As they approached the dock, she was no closer to understanding her reluctance to share the coin with Phoenix.

  Talbot came down the stairs as Leroy swung the Dock Holiday around and squeezed the small charter boat between the other two vessels.

  The detective handed her the bowline. "You're soaked."

  "Good thing I'm wearing my wetsuit." She wrapped the line around the cleat and moved aft.

  Talbot followed her and passed the spring line under the rail. Mer pulled the boat snug against the dock. "Is Gina upstairs?"

  "She's waiting to exchange clothes."

  "You can tell her not to bother. We had a bit of a run-in with Bart on the high seas." She read the alarm in his face. "Everyone's fine."

  The concern morphed into annoyance. "Why am I just hearing about this now? You had a radio."

  "Long story. Let me finish here and I'll meet you upstairs and tell you the whole sordid tale."

  He didn't move. She thought she heard a sigh, but it was lost under the creak of the boat against the dock bumpers.

  "You sure you're doing okay?" The concern was back, softening his hazel eyes.

  Mer bled the air from her regulator. "I think I'm starting to get used to the adrenaline."

  "That's not a good thing."

  Phoenix stuffed her towel into her dry bag and tossed it onto the dock next to Talbot. "Do you need me for anything? I just want to go home."

  Talbot pulled out his phone and punched up a recorder app. "Sounds like I need to get a statement from you before you go."

  Phoenix leaned over the side and spoke into his phone. "Some guy in a big-ass boat showed up. Lapped us 'til we were dizzy. Left." She disappeared into the V-berth and reemerged carrying her gear. "Anything else?"

  Talbot glanced at Mer for validation.

  "Other than the fact he's wanted, I don't think Bart committed any new crimes today." Mer loosened the tank strap and lifted her BC off the tank. "Well, other than ignoring the dive flag."

  The detective moved forward to help Phoenix from the boat. "Let me get your phone number. Can I call you tonight if I need to follow up on anything?"

  "Sure." She recited the numbers, but ignored his outstretched hand. "I'm begging off the dive tomorrow. I have a lecture in the morning."

  "No worries. I'm shutting down the operation," Talbot said.

  "Best news I've heard all day. I'll catch up with you guys later." Phoenix scooped up her other bag and tromped off toward the parking lot.

  The tide placed the boat level with the dock. Mer stepped off the stern, dumped her gear into the rinse bins on the dock, and returned to the boat to collect her tanks.

  Talbot moved to help her. "Forsooth—"

  "If you quote Shakespeare right now, I may resort to violence."

  "I'm still recording."

  "It'll take more than a phone to save you."

  "Duly noted." He stashed the phone in his shorts pocket.

  Leroy did a quick check around the helm, and then joined them on the dock. "I must say, I've had fun before, and today wasn't it."

  "I think we can all agree on that," Mer said. She pulled her two tanks from their holders. The movement didn't hurt nearly as much, and she realized it had been a week since the gala. Seven days since meeting Winslet Chase, since being duped by Oscar, since Bart Kingston had punched and kicked her black and blue.

  What a difference a week made. Last Sunday she'd been scared. Now she was pissed.

  Leroy took the tanks from her. "Never seen you wear your wetsuit this long. Your toes are going to be nothing more than shriveled up prunes."

  She shut the hatch on the V-berth and locked it. "I imagine they will be." Mer dragged her backpack off the dashboard and slung it over her shoulder.

  "Makes a person wonder why you're still wearing it."

  She swept her hand in an after-you gesture and followed the captain off the boat. "Far be it for me to leave a question unanswered."

  Talbot crossed his arms and leaned against the dock piling, right under the sign warning divers to watch their step. "What are you two trying not to say in front of me?"

  Water splashed over Talbot's deck shoes as she dragged her equipment from the rinse bin. "Let me stow my gear in the equipment room, and I'll meet you in the classroom. I have some news to share."

  37

  The first thing Mer noticed when she entered the classroom was the outline of the ballistic vest under Deputy Gina Mercurio's Aquarius crew shirt. It reminded her of the stakes.

  Gina gave her the once over. "Nice wetsuit."

  Leroy sat against the wall. "Are you going to tell me why you sent up your surface marker? Thought something had gone wrong. Then Phoenix popped up and said you were on your safety stop."

  Talbot had dragged a chair around to the front of the room and sat with his elbows on the table and his hands cupping his face, as if he had a headache.

  She suspected she was about to make it worse. "Is Skipper still around?"

  "I cut him loose already," Gina said. "Do I need to call him back?"

  "That's okay. Bijoux?"

  "I'm here." Her boss swept into the room. "Why are you still wearing your wetsuit?"

  "Yes, Cavallo," Leroy asked with feigned innocence. "Why is that?"

  Mer bent over and unzipped her right bootie. "I can't take off my wetsuit without first taking off my booties."

  "You dodging the question, or is this going to be another one of your long-winded explanations?" Leroy asked.

  She reached her hand into the toe, careful not to spill the trapped water. "I didn't want to take off my booties."

  Leroy tipped his chair against the wall. "Wake me when you get to the good part."

  The coin felt heavier than a modern coin. Heavy with history. It saddened her that Phoenix wasn't here to share the moment, but that was partly Mer's own doing. "I found this today on the reef." She handed the coin to Leroy.

  The sound of chair legs hitting the floor ricocheted around the silent room. Then everyone in the room started talking at once.

  "Is it?"

  "Well, I'll..."

  "A portrait dollar?"


  "Mon dieu."

  Everyone but Mer huddled around Leroy. Their voices rose as they passed the coin between them. Marveling at the same things she had underwater. They were all a part of the history now.

  "You were marking the spot." The usually nonplussed captain looked slightly dazed.

  "I was. That was the plan, anyway. Until Bart arrived."

  "How did you know it was him?"

  "I didn't. At least not definitively. But I saw the length of the hull. The three motors. It seemed too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone else. But how did they know where we were?" She repeated the question she'd asked on the boat.

  "Wait a minute," Gina interrupted. "You had a run-in with Kingston?"

  "He circled the boat until I came up from my dive, then he idled off our stern." She removed the second bootie, hopping on one leg to keep her balance. "Called me by name. He had binoculars. The logical conclusion suggests he was verifying my presence on the Dock Holiday. Which meant he knew I wasn't on the Finders Keepers."

  "Son of a bitch," Gina whispered, then cleared her throat. "This changes everything."

  "It can't," Mer said.

  "That's not your call, Dr. Cavallo." Talbot typed notes into his phone. "We deployed the patrol boat to watch the Finders Keepers. All along, we figured that would be the boat they'd make a move on. We don't have the manpower to watch both boats."

  "You don't have to. You're forgetting—I found a coin. Actually, three of them."

  "Three?" Leroy slid the coin across the table and it stopped in front of Mer.

  "I contemplated leaving them all behind, but we needed one." She held up the coin. "This is how we're going to get Oscar back."

  "You're not going to get anyone back," the detective said. "We've been compromised. It's too dangerous."

  Mer set the coin down. "How did we get compromised?"

  "Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and again." Leroy interjected.

  Mer shook her head. "I have a hard time believing they just happened upon us, especially when we went to all the trouble to make it look as if we were miles to the north."