Circle of Bones: a Caribbean Thriller

by Christine Kling

  Theo tucked his tablet computer under his arm and pushed past them. He trotted back to the big spool on the after deck and hit a switch with the palm of his hand. An electric motor hummed and the cable began to reel in.

  Dig pushed Riley ahead and they followed. When they got to the rail on the afterdeck, she searched the surface for signs of bubbles. Cole, tell me you’re okay. You’re going to surface in a minute and we’ll laugh, right? Each time she saw something that looked like it might be a diver’s bubbles, hope rose in her chest, but then the water would turn smooth again, the disturbance nothing more than a wind wave.

  She would know it if he were dead, wouldn’t she? She’d known something was wrong when Michael died, and he had been across an ocean. Not under one. Mikey, help me. Help me find him. Tell me he’s all right.

  Theo stopped the winch.

  “Why are you stopping?” Dig asked.

  “It’s a long shot, but Cole might have attached himself to the ROV. We bring him up too fast, and he’ll get the bends.”

  Dig raised the gun and pressed the barrel against the side of Riley’s head. “You reel that in right now, or I’ll shoot her.”

  “Theo, don’t —”

  “Riley, look, so far, the cable’s intact. If Enigma made it out, there’s hope Cole did, too. He may be down there decompressing right now.”

  Then where are his bubbles, she wanted to ask.

  “Stop talking and bring it up.” Dig twisted away from her and trained the gun downward. She jumped at the boom when it went off.

  Theo howled, his voice rising at the end as though in a question. He hopped a couple of times on one foot, his back arched, his face twisted in pain. He lifted his foot and examined the shoe. Blood dripped from a hole on the little toe side of his sneaker.

  “Don’t argue with me, boy.”

  Theo stared at Dig, the whites of his eyes huge behind his glasses, his lips pressed together as though he were forcing his mouth to stay shut.

  Far across the water, Riley saw a sportfishing boat headed toward them. Stay away, she wanted to say. There is a crazy man here, and he is likely to shoot all of us before this day is done.

  After that first cry, Theo didn’t make another sound. He hit the button and the crane started up again. The three of them stood silent at the rail watching the black, snake-like cable emerge dripping and glistening in the sunlight. To the northwest, over the island, the ash cloud grew like a brain coral recorded on time-lapse photography. It spread toward them coating the blue dome overhead with its gray pall.

  Finally, the bright yellow of the PVC pipe appeared a few feet below the surface. There was no diver, either alive or dead, attached to the ROV. Where are you Cole? Please tell me you’re hanging on the anchor chain hatching some crazy plan.

  The Enigma no longer looked like a cute little toy. The yellow pipes were broken, mangled. Riley remembered how proud Cole had been when he had shown it to her during their first passage down to Dominica and the Indian River. The device now looked like it had been hit by a truck, or more precisely, dragged out of a wreck.

  Theo hit the button to stop the crane before the device was halfway out of the water. “There’s something in the cargo net,” he said.

  “Bring it up on deck,” Dig said.

  “I can’t. The cable can’t support the weight of it. It breaks and it will all sink. Somebody needs to get in the water to attach the line from the crane.”

  “I think I can do it from the Fast Eddie,” Riley said. She wanted to get down closer to the water to look for Cole.

  “Good idea.”

  “You’re not going anywhere without me,” Dig said.

  She gave him a curt nod. “Let me untie the painter.” He released his grip on her arm, and she stepped back to the cleat. She handed the line to Theo, and he pulled the black speedboat alongside the rope ladder. Riley climbed down and Dig followed, struggling to hold onto the ladder. When he stepped onto the deck, he pulled the sling off over his head. She saw where blood had stained the left side of his shirt.

  Meanwhile, Theo swung the crane out over the water. Out on the boat’s foredeck, she scanned the Shadow Chaser’s waterline. No sign of him. She reached up and grabbed the shackle dangling from the crane.

  “Got it,” she called. She pulled on the line and walked aft, then jumped down into the cockpit so she would be able to reach the Enigma where it bobbed at the surface. Once the shackle was secured, she gave Theo a thumbs up and the crane motor hummed.

  Dig pushed her aside as the mangled ROV rose dripping out of the water. He swung it over the powerboat’s after deck, and Theo reversed the crane. Over Dig’s shoulder, she saw a flash of white. The ceramic mug. She smelled the sharp, acrid odor she always associated with low tide. Dig reached into the steel mesh bag that was slung beneath the ballast tanks, and he withdrew the white mug. She saw his hand go up into the air, and she held her breath. Two other men had touched that artifact before Dig — Cole and the captain of the Surcouf. She saw his hand fly past as he threw the mug to the deck where it exploded into sharp white shards.

  She felt as if something in her broke, too. She looked at Dig’s back. He had tucked the gun into his front waistband and he was using both hands to tug at whatever was still in the cargo net. She looked around for a weapon. Most sailboats or fishing boats at least had a winch handle or a gaff or a dive knife — but on this ocean racer, she saw nothing. As she searched every inch of the deck, desperate for something she could pull loose to hit him with, she spotted the fire extinguisher in a bracket next to the helm.

  Dig swore and she turned back to look at him. The box was in the net, but he couldn’t get it out. The clasp had snagged on the steel mesh.

  Riley popped the latch and pulled the white cylinder free from the bracket. Her attention was drawn back to the sportfishing boat that was still heading straight for them. The boat rode a huge creamy bow wave as it churned through the water closing on them.

  Dig uttered a high-pitched cry and the box broke free. He staggered backwards, clutching the box to his chest.

  In a flash, Riley saw Michael and her father and Hutch and the box she had carried to the Marine house years ago. She raised the fire extinguisher and swung it straight for Dig’s head. At the last second, his eyes flicked her way and he pushed forward into her. The extinguisher bounced off his back and clattered to the deck. She heard him grunt with pain before his head rammed into her midsection, and they both went down on the deck. Riley cracked her head on the support post for the driver’s seat and she lay stunned for several seconds.

  Diggory rolled off her and kept his body curled around the box, shielding it from her. No, not after everything he had taken from her. He could not take that box, too.

  He pulled the gun from his belt, and as he swung it towards her, she kicked hard at his elbow. The gun flew from his hand and clattered across the fiberglass deck. It lodged in a scupper where seawater flowed in and drained back out as the boat rolled.

  Over the top of the speedboat’s gunnel, she saw the flybridge of the sportfisherman and the small figure of a man wearing a white shirt. Maybe he was coming over to tell them about the earthquake and the eruption. Maybe he wanted to warn them.

  Diggory staggered to his feet. The powerboat beneath them was rocking in the waves, and he lurched after the gun, still clutching the box.

  The sportfish boat was close enough now she could see the man’s white hair blowing back in the wind. She turned to look for Theo. His back was turned. He was bent over the cabin top, but he had untied their painter and thrown it into the water. The Fast Eddie was starting to drift away. That was why the chop was throwing them around so much.

  Standing over the scupper so she couldn’t get the gun, Dig grabbed the top of the box and tried to pull the rusty old latch free. He groaned when it fell apart in his hands. He raised the lid.

  Riley heard the deep guttural growl of the electric motors that powered the Shadow Chaser’s bow thrusters.
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  Behind her, Dig roared and threw the box to the deck. He strode over to it and kicked it once, and then again. The box was empty.

  Then Dig looked up and faced the sportsfish boat bearing down on them. He stepped back, his eyes wide with recognition, and he fell on top of the engine cowling. He rolled over and tried to gain his balance. The whole front of his shirt was soaked with blood now.

  Riley saw the fire extinguisher where it lay on the deck three feet away.

  She looked for Theo. He held his tablet computer and he was steering Shadow Chaser farther away. As the gap between the two boats widened, Theo yelled, “Riley! Jump!”

  Riley could see Pinky’s face now. His mouth was opening and closing as he shouted, but the wind carried his words away. He pointed at them with one hand while holding the helm steady with the wrist of his injured hand.

  Turning, she saw Diggory balanced atop the engine compartment, his back to her, making ready to dive overboard. No, she thought. He was not going to get away this time. She grabbed the extinguisher as she bolted across the cockpit. She swung the cylinder in a wide arc. Even with all the engine noise, she heard the crunch when the metal hit Diggory’s knee. She jumped aside as he collapsed back into the cockpit. Then she leaped onto the powerboat’s rail and filled her lungs. As she dove, Riley caught one last glimpse of the Fish n’ Chicks bearing down on the Fast Eddie, riding high on that creamy bow wave. Pinky was smiling.

  She kicked harder and pulled wider than she ever had before as she reached for the deep blue depths. She reached for Cole. Please, let him be down here, hiding under the boat. Dear Universe, God, Neptune, anyone who’s listening. Please. Bring him back to me. Her lungs burned, ears ached, and she thought she couldn’t go any longer without air when she felt the impact of the explosion. She heard the boom a second later.

  Riley surfaced on the far side of Shadow Chaser and sucked in the sweet air in great gulps. Clouds of smoke rose from the opposite side of the trawler.

  Theo’s face appeared over the rail. “Riley, here!” he shouted. He threw down the rope ladder. While he secured it to the bulwark, she saw that the heavy hemp rope was singed.

  When she got up to the deck, Theo draped an arm over her shoulder and led her back to the stern. He had only one sneaker on, the other foot wrapped in a rag. Neither of them spoke. When they rounded the cabin, she felt the heat on her face. All the cabin and superstructure on Fish n’ Chicks was gone. She was little more than a hull filled with flames. There was nothing at all left of the black-hulled ocean racer, Fast Eddie. With the engines still hot and gasoline vapors in the bilge, the boat had gone off like a bomb.

  From the direction of St. Francois on Guadeloupe, a self-important-looking little boat charged toward them, red and blue lights flashing. The French Coast Guard.

  Gray cloud now covered most of the sky overhead. A thin strip of blue remained visible far off to the east. Through the gray film, the sun looked like a pale, sickly orb. A speck of something flew into her eye. She rubbed at it and felt the dried salt on her skin. Then she noticed other particles drifting through the air. So many tiny white flakes. In her mind, Riley saw the silt swirling around Cole moments before the camera died. She saw the white mug shattering into a thousand shards. Her legs buckled and she collapsed. Her wet feet had left a single trail of footprints in the fine film covering the deck. Cole was gone and the sky was raining ash.

  EPILOGUE

  Six months later

  Cherbourg, France

  November 19, 2008

  “You look like you’re a couple of thousand miles away.”

  Riley spun around at the sound of his voice. “Theo!” She wrapped her hands around his high narrow shoulders and held him tight to her. So he’d surprised her after all. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, her face pressed against the wool of his sweater.

  The hug he gave her was short but fierce. Then he grasped her shoulders and stepped back, straightening his arms.

  “You look great, Riley.” The eyes behind the wire-rimmed spectacles twinkled with genuine pleasure.

  She knew he was being kind, but she expected nothing less of him. That was Theo through and through. While she was back to work and living her life, she was neither eating nor sleeping enough to ‘look great.’

  “I was surprised when I got your email,” she said.

  He took her elbow and led her to the bulkhead that ran along the seaward side of the jetty. He gestured for her to sit. Like her, he wore a yellow foul weather jacket. His was open at the front, and he tucked it under him as he settled his long frame on the stonework next to her. He slid the backpack off his shoulder and rested it on the stones at his feet. “Surprised?” he said. “Why?”

  She scooted over closer to him until their arms touched. She felt something dig into her hip, and she remembered the bag of chestnuts she’d stuffed in her pocket earlier. She readjusted her rain jacket, then rested her head against his shoulder. “I owe you an apology. I ran out on you in Guadeloupe. I wouldn’t blame you if you’re mad at me. I should have stuck around longer.”

  She had neglected him in the weeks following the eruption and earthquake. She’d neglected everyone, living and dead, including herself. Dozens had died on Montserrat, and though the casualty list was not great on Guadeloupe, the damage from the earthquake there had been significant. They’d had to shut down the power plants, and the whole island had been under a boil water order for over a week.

  Theo slid his arm around her shoulders. “Those were tough days for all of us. I heard you went back to your boat and sailed down to Martinique.”

  After several days of answering questions and watching from St. Francois as the French authorities sent boats and divers out to the site, she’d returned to her boat at Marie Gallant, pulled up her anchor and left, without even a good bye to Theo.

  “Yeah. I had to get away. I sailed south until I found this little bay. It was called Case-Pilote. Nobody knew me there, and I wanted to stay on the boat and wallow in my misery.”

  Theo rested his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you.”

  “I’m sure you had your hands full.”

  “You’re right there.”

  “I stayed in my bunk at first. For days. Didn’t even go to my father’s funeral. But after several weeks of twisting in my sheets, one of the local fishermen knocked on my hull. I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t go away. When I finally went topsides, he said the people in the village were worried about me. They wanted to know if I was okay.”

  She had wanted to tell the man no, that she never would be okay, that the ash was still clogging her eyes and ears and mouth and lungs.

  “Island people are like that,” Theo said.

  Riley nodded. “He gave me a gift of some fresh grouper,” she said. “And I was surprised to discover I was hungry.” She remembered grilling the fish on the little barbecue on her stern rail that night. She ate the entire filet and for the first time in days, she threw no food overboard. Soon after, she contacted her employers at Mercury, and they offered her work on a project in Fort de France.

  Theo smiled. “I understood why you left. But I still should have checked up on you.”

  Riley half-turned to face him. “Tell me about you. What happened to you afterwards?”

  “I managed all right. It took a while, though. At first, the French government made a stab at seizing Shadow Chaser, but I turned to my uncle for help. Cole had set me up as a partner of Full Fathom Five Maritime Exploration, and eventually, I was able to get away with the boat. I took her home to Dominica. I was based out of Portsmouth doing some local salvage work for most of the summer hurricane season. Went down and visited Henri Michaut several times. And I built the Enigma II. It’s a new design for deep water work.”

  “And how is Henri?”

  Theo smiled. “He’s doing much better now.”

  “So where’s Shadow Chaser?”

  “Hauled out down in Puerto La Cru
z, Venezuela. We’re doing quite a bit of work on her –repairs, new paint, new electronics. You know.”

  She wondered where he was getting the money for all these repairs, but it wasn’t any of her business anymore. “You’ve really grown up these past months, Theo. You were a boy when I first met you and now, look at you. You’re the captain of Shadow Chaser and head of Full Fathom Five.”

  Theo didn’t say anything for over a minute. She felt him stiffen as he watched a tall, slender man in a green jogging outfit who strolled past them. The man wore sunglasses on this cloudy day and black wires snaked from his ears down inside the collar of his jacket. When the man saw them watching, he began to sing and rock his head back and forth.

  Theo patted her hand after the man had passed. They sat there next to the Surcouf memorial, both of them staring off to the southwest, lost in their thoughts.

  “God, I miss him,” she said.

  Theo nodded, his lips pressed together in a half smile.

  She sighed. “Cole Thatcher and his crazy theories. He sure had a way of getting to you, didn’t he?”

  Theo nodded.

  “I mean, sometimes, I swear I’m suspicious of everything now. I get the feeling I’m being followed, but then the person I suspected of following me just passes on by. I never have proof, but the feeling won’t go away.”

  Theo turned his head to look at the man in the green jogging suit. “I know what you mean.”

  She took a deep breath and slapped her hands down on her thighs. “So, what does the future hold for Theo? What are your plans?”

  “For one thing, I’ve been invited to your new president’s inauguration.”

  “Theo! You’re kidding! How marvelous for you. Are you going with your uncle? Part of some official delegation from Dominica?”

  “Something like that. We worked a little magic.”

  “I guess. Those invitations aren’t easy to come by.”

  Theo smiled at her but said nothing.

  “I wish Cole had lived to see this,” she said. “Maybe the world isn’t as bleak a place as Cole thought. Maybe the Patriarchs,” Riley paused, then took a deep breath. “And my dad — weren’t as bad as they seemed. Maybe it was just one crazy, evil man, Diggory Priest who was responsible for all the killing.”