“In general, it’s where rewards and punishments are used to change or encourage certain behavior. You’ve heard of Pavlov’s dogs, right? It’s similar. For example, when a lab rat presses a lever, he receives a food pellet as a reward, but when he presses a button he receives a mild electric shock. As a result, he learns to press the lever but avoid the button. But that’s in a controlled environment. For one, negative reinforcement is not used on dolphins. At least not in the United States. And I can’t think of any reward that would lure wild dolphins for any conditioning to happen.”
“Actually,” JP chimed in, “there was an event during Hurricane Katrina. Well, kinda.”
I turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“Some of the bottlenose dolphins that were captive at Marine Life Oceanarium in Gulfport were washed out of the pool and into the Mississippi during the storm surge. It was twelve days before the trainers could go out and look for them. They were spotted together, just outside Gulfport Harbor. The trainers called the dolphins to the rescue boat with whistle blasts, typical recall protocol. They were fed and checked out by the medics. But there was a problem.”
Skylar nodded in agreement. “Getting them back into the oceanarium.”
“Right,” JP said. He seemed pleased to be able to contribute to the conversation.
“So, what’d they do?” I asked.
“They had to work on some new training out there in the Gulf. Basically, they set up floating mats and trained them to haul out onto the mats where they could then be wrapped in slings for transport. It was actually a significant research event. We learned a lot from that one unplanned situation.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Well, dolphins have a fission-fusion society. That means individuals interact in small groups that change often, but they maintain relationships within the larger community. We already knew that. What we learned from the Katrina event, was that the dolphins who had been captive together, stayed together in the wild. The younger ones followed the lead of the older, more experienced ones. So, the trainers were very careful in the order in which they called them in.”
“You seem to know a lot about dolphin training,” I said.
He looked down at this hands. “Yeah, well, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a dolphin trainer. You know, at SeaWorld. But then I learned the dark side of it all.”
“The dark side?” I knew all about it, but I wanted to hear his take on it.
“You know The Cove? How, in Japan, they capture and slaughter dolphins in the wild and choose the healthiest to sell into captivity. It’s big business. Lots of money. Now, that’s a powerful industry, that’s for sure. Is that why you’re here?”
I didn’t acknowledge the question. “So, in the Hurricane Katrina incident, the dolphins involved had already been trained. But let’s say someone found a way to reward, as you say, some wild dolphins in a way that they were able to train them in the wild. What would that look like?”
JP shrugged. Skylar shrugged. JP spoke. “They’d definitely be working from a boat, I would think. Deep water. Not from shore. Unless they set up a floating platform or something. And, I don’t know. No, it would have to be a boat, because their territory is so large, calling them in wouldn’t really work. Whatever, it would take time. A lot more time than if they were captive.” He shrugged again. “I just can’t see it. Dolphins are too smart.”
“Is there any way to figure out, from interaction with the dolphins, what they’re being trained to do?”
They both thought about it, shaking their heads.
At the table across the room, the man set his newspaper on the table, but made no move to go.
“Are you working on a research project, JP?”
“Yes, the impact of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill on reproduction rates in bottlenose dolphins.”
“Ah,” I said. “I assume not good.”
He shook his head. “Not good. The dolphins that died soon afterward had adrenal hormone abnormalities, lesions on their lungs, severe weight loss, primary bacterial pneumonia, among other things. Now, even years later, the ones that survived still suffer from the same ailments. But a significant factor that people don’t consider is that many of the dolphins that died were reproductive-aged adults. The lifelong social bonds these dolphins have was severely impacted. Since they’re slow to mature and reproduce, it takes the population a long time to recover. Decades. The loss of those adults has had rippling effects on behavior and mating success.”
Skylar glanced at her watch.
With a quick glance at my shadow, who was now talking on a cell phone—yes!—I said, “I just have one more question. When you were on Bimini, did you notice anything out of the ordinary about the dolphins there? Anything unexpected?”
“Do you mean other than the five tagged bottlenose dolphins that showed up?”
I tried not to show any surprise. “Let’s start with that.”
“Literally, one day, we spotted these five dolphins. Kerrie had never seen them before. They came right up to the boat. Very odd behavior for bottlenose.”
“How so?”
“Well,”—an expression of realization came over her, as if her experience and my questions came together—“like they’d been trained.”
“How did Kerrie react?”
“She was surprised. Didn’t know what to make of it. There was no discernible marking on the tags. When we got back to the office, she tried for days to track down the researchers who’d tagged them. It was a dead end.”
“So, she gave up trying to find out?”
“Don’t know. I left. My internship was over.”
“Do you think it’s possible she wasn’t surprised at all? That she had been somehow involved in training them?”
“Kerrie? No way. She’s as passionate an advocate as I’ve ever met. If she caught someone even trying to touch a dolphin, she’d read ‘em the riot act. No way.”
“One of those dolphins got stranded two days ago.”
She asked where exactly, what happened. I tried my best to explain the details of the situation.
“Makes sense, I guess,” she said, “for a dolphin who doesn’t know the area. The resident dolphins wouldn’t go up in that shallow bay at low tide.”
“So, they are trained dolphins, but from somewhere else?”
Skylar shrugged.
JP nodded in the affirmative. “Makes the most sense.”
“Well, thank you. I need you to keep our visit to yourselves. Don’t tell anyone I was here. Okay?”
They nodded.
I glanced over at my shadow, then stared at JP for a moment, making a decision. “JP,” I said. “You seem like a good guy.”
He hesitated. “Um, yeah?”
“I’m going to be honest. I’m not sure what’s going on, exactly. Not yet. But until I do, will you stick with Skylar? Walk her to class, whatever?” I turned to her. “I don’t want you out alone. Something’s going on and I can’t promise you’re not in danger.”
“Are you serious? I mean, our schedules—”
“Just be cautious. Okay?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“I promise,” JP said, and I felt a little better.
The minutes clicked by as I stayed in my seat, watching what the man would do when Skylar and JP left.
If he wanted to know what I’d come here for, he had his answer. Would he leave? Follow them now? Or continue to follow me?
Back on his phone, he finally made eye contact with me. Then he disconnected, got up, and left the cafeteria in the opposite direction Skylar had gone.
He’d followed me here. I knew he did. I felt it in my bones.
Well, two could play that game.
I got up, moved across the room, and went out the door after him.
He crossed the campus, heading toward a forested area, never looking back. He walked with a slight limp, but seemed to be able to move at a good pace.
Once he entered th
e woods, he started across a pedestrian suspension bridge that spanned a wooded gully. It was about five feet wide and made of galvanized steel. I hesitated. The bridge was at least 250 feet across. If I started after him and he turned, or stopped, I had nowhere to go. If I waited, I might lose him on the other side.
I stepped onto the bridge. Leafy branches poked through the wire cables. It reminded me of the many suspension bridges in Costa Rica, built to allow a view from the different levels of the rainforest.
As I approached the center of the bridge, it swayed beneath my feet. The man continued on. As he left the bridge, he turned to the left. I hurried across after him.
Once I arrived on the other side, I looked left. A few hundreds yards away was a parking area. But where had he gone? There was no one. I continued on, scanning.
Was his car in the parking lot? Another Ford Taurus?
No car started. No movement.
He’d disappeared.
As I headed back toward the cafeteria and my car, I punched in Greg’s number.
“Yo.”
“Yo. Why do you answer that way, anyway?”
“Dunno. Why do you repeat it?”
“Dunno. Anything with the phone tracking?”
“Has he gone back to Bimini yet?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
“Okay. Can you do a search for me, online?”
“What? Don’t tell me you don’t know how to use Google?”
“Yes, but Google is for amateurs. I need the real thing. A deep search. A search that takes a genius, the kind that—”
“Yep, flattery will get you there every time.”
“Great. Consider yourself all buttered up.”
“Ah, the visual on that is—”
“I need to know if any trained dolphins have recently escaped their seaside pens. Anywhere in the world.”
“Okay.”
“So, how long will it take?”
“There are no reports of any trained dolphins having recently escaped their seaside pens.”
“How did you—?”
“I Googled it.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. Anything else?”
I hung up. I had one more call to make.
Dalton answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”
“In Mississippi following a lead. I’ll fill you in on that when I get back tomorrow, but right now I need to tell you something else.” My tone told him this was business.
“Shoot.”
“The other day at lunch, when Alison and I went to the bathroom, there was a man, watching us when we came out. It was unnerving. He seemed familiar to me. Then I realized I’d seen him in the crowd where the dolphin had been stranded.”
“What do you mean watching?”
“Watching. You know, you can feel it. His eyes on you. And the way he looked away when I saw him.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“He didn’t do anything. It’s a small island. The most likely explanation was a simple coincidence.”
“But?”
“But then when I went to the airport, he was on the same plane.”
“Okay,” he said, clearly concerned now.
“Not just to Miami, but on the second flight to Mississippi. That was too much of a coincidence, so I paid very close attention. I swear, there’s no way he could have tailed me to the campus. I pulled a couple maneuvers in the car. But then, there he was. In the cafeteria while I was talking with Skylar, Kerrie’s last intern.”
“And you’re sure it was the same man?”
I paused, annoyed.
“All right.” He thought a moment. “You’re right. That’s too big of a coincidence.” He thought some more. “And you’re sure he didn’t follow on the highway.”
I shook my head. “No way.”
“There are other marine studies going on here in Bimini. And those scientists could be consulting with someone at the research laboratory there. It’s not that far-fetched.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t think so.”
I paused, thinking. It didn’t feel right. He’d been following me. My gut said so. But maybe I was wrong. “No, but I don’t know.”
“Let me see what else I can dig up over here. In the meantime, be careful. Be safe. Do not take any risks. I’m serious, Poppy.”
With no sign of my stalker, I made my early morning flight on time, got settled into my seat, closed my eyes. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. He wasn’t on the plane back to Bimini this morning. Did that mean he wasn’t really following me? Or he’d already discovered what I’d come to Mississippi for and didn’t feel the need to continue the surveillance.
The seat next to me was empty, so maybe he’d show up yet. I stood up and scanned the aircraft. It was the only remaining seat available. The thought of him ending up right next to me made me grin.
I laid my head back and closed my eyes again.
Why would he follow me, an intern? Had he been watching Kerrie and Natalie too? If so, they probably wouldn’t have noticed. Not if he was a pro, which he definitely was.
This whole situation didn’t make any sense. Someone was training dolphins. In the wild. Quite possibly—no probably—illegally. Yet in a very visible, highly visited area. And with dolphin researchers—people educated in the behavior of dolphins—living right there. Either Kerrie and Natalie were somehow involved, or the people who were doing it were taking a big risk that they’d be discovered.
But why? What for? What were the dolphins being trained to do? If I could figure that out, I could narrow down the suspects. JP and Skylar had no ideas on how to determine what they’d been trained to do. I needed to figure it out on my own.
The pilots were running through the systems check—lights turned on and off, engines rumbled, mechanical things clanked. Someone plopped down in the seat next to me with such presence that I opened my eyes.
Chris!
“Omigosh,” I said. I didn’t know whether to be thrilled or annoyed. The expression on his face made my decision. Annoyed.
“All right,” he said. “Enough of this denial-avoidance-clammed-up-edness. You’re going to talk. I didn’t fly across the country to get the it’s-no-big-deal speech.”
“Are you kidding? What? You’ve taken time off for this?”
“Yep. Until you talk.”
“That’s not even funny.”
“You don’t have to tell me. But if you don’t spill by Tuesday, I could lose my job.”
Oh, why does this have to be such a big deal? I shifted in my seat. “It’s not like we’re kids and it’s all about the kiss and tell. Geez.”
“Okay, dear. That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.” He crossed his arms. “Though, I admit, I could use some juicy details. It’s been a long dry spell.”
Eye roll.
His expression turned to a look of concern. “Seriously. I’m worried about you.”
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
“We’ll see.” He pulled a handful of peach-colored yarn attached to a half-finished knitting project from his bag, took hold of the needles, and started to knit.
“Since when did you take up knitting?” I asked.
“I’m knitting knockers.”
“You’re what? What’s a knocker?”
“You know, knockers.” He wiggled his finger, pointing at my breasts. “One of my co-workers has breast cancer and the other flight attendants started making them, so I thought, why not? They’re for women who’ve had mastectomies.”
“Really? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Yeah. Traditional breast prosthetics are expensive, and heavy, sweaty and uncomfortable. At least, that’s what I’m told. And you need a special bra with pockets for them. Knitted knockers on the other hand are soft and comfortable and you can stuff ‘em in a regular bra. They look and feel just like real breasts.”
He held the knocker for m
e to give it a squeeze. It even had a nipple knitted in the right place.
“My friend is having reconstruction surgery, so I’m making one that can be altered as she needs by removing some of the stuffing.”
I stared at him. My best friend. And this was why. He was sweet, caring, and would do anything for me or anyone in need. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for coming,” I said.
“Anytime,” he said with that sassy grin, and the needles went click, click, click.
Chapter Eight
Dalton was waiting when I got off the ferry. I wasn’t expecting him to meet me and was suddenly nervous. We hadn’t discussed the conversation, or non-conversation about his ex-wife, and seeing him reminded me of how I’d fled that conversation like an idiot.
“Hey,” he said, approaching. “We need to—” He saw Chris behind me. “What’s he doing here?” He frowned. “Sorry, Chris. Nothing personal.”
Chris winked.
“We’re not exactly on vacation here,” Dalton said with tense lips.
“He helped me get the flight,” I said, as if that explained his presence.
“I’ll be at the Hilton,” Chris said, then gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
I spun on him. “What? Ugh, not that place.”
He shrugged it off. “I’ve got seven billion points to redeem.” He nodded toward Dalton. “Nice to see you again.” And he disappeared with the others looking for a taxi.
“You didn’t have to meet me at the ferry,” I said.
“Tom and Mike have something.”
“Oh.” It was business.
“They’re anchored out in the bay, near the mangroves. We’re going to kayak out there.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let me drop my bag and change my clothes.”
We walked to my room, saying nothing more, stuck in an uncomfortable silence. At the door, I said I’d be right out and went inside and shut the door behind me.
Deep breath. I can handle Dalton. I can roll with it. No problem. Nothing’s changed.
Back at the mirror, I paused for a moment. “Just don’t let him in here. He’ll have you back in bed before you can say what-about-dinner?”
Operation Dolphin Spirit Page 8