Bluewater Betrayal: The Fifth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 5)

by Charles Dougherty

  Bluewater Betrayal

  By C.L.R. Dougherty

  Click here to subscribe to my email list for notice of new releases and special sales or giveaways. I'll email a link to you for a free download of my short story, The Lost Tourist Franchise, when you sign up. I promise not to use the list for anything else; I dislike spam as much as you do.

  Copyright © 2013

  Charles L. R. Dougherty

  All rights reserved.

  I offer a heartfelt thank you to my wife, Leslie B. Dougherty and her parents, Alan and Carol Rea for the assistance and advice that they contributed to this work. It is a far better book than it would have been without their participation.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. All of the places mentioned are either fictional or are used in a fictional way.

  The Windward and Leeward Islands

  The Virgin Islands

  South End of Martinique / Virgin Gorda

  Chapter 1

  She didn't notice the stalker while she was shopping. She was placing her groceries on the conveyor belt at the check-out counter when he spoke, startling her.

  "Liz? Liz Chirac? Is it you?"

  She jumped and glanced over her shoulder, thinking as she did that the voice was familiar. Her eye fell on a tanned, fit young man with an expectant look on his face.

  "Robert!" Her mind was racing as she tried to make sense of the emotions that swept over her. Her knees were weak, and she clutched her purse to her chest. "Robert?"

  "It is you," the young man said. "Unreal! How are you?"

  Liz recovered, her jaw clenching as she remembered the last time she had seen Robert Delorme. "I'm well, thank you. How's your wife?"

  "Uhm, she's…"

  "Caroline, right? Is she here with you?"

  "No. We're, ah, kind of not together anymore."

  "I see," Liz said, biting off the words. She stared at him.

  "So are you here on holiday?" he asked.

  "No." Liz felt a surge of anger. She turned back to the conveyor belt as the cashier began to ring up her purchases. She finished emptying her cart, focusing on the task in an effort to stem her ire.

  "Look, Liz, I…"

  "Robert, there's nothing left to say." Liz turned to face him, her green eyes flashing. "Your actions said it all back then. I don't want to talk to you." She turned her back on him again and handed her credit card to the cashier, who swiped it through the reader and handed it back. Liz signed the proffered receipt and walked around the end of the counter, where she tipped the young man who had packed her groceries into another cart. She jerked the cart away from the counter and pushed it toward the exit door, giving vent to her feelings in the violence of her movements. She strode to the door with her eyes locked to the front, only glancing over her shoulder once the automatic door closed behind her. Through the glare of the sun on the glass, she could see Robert; he was watching her, his brow scrunched into a frown that was all too familiar to Liz.

  She rolled the cart around the side of the store, heading for Vengeance's dinghy. She maintained an angry stride until the wheels rumbled to the end of the dock. She lined the groceries up on the edge of the dock before stepping down into the RIB. Taking her keys from her pocket, she opened the padlock and dropped the chain and lock into the bottom of the boat. She settled the groceries into the bow, packing the bags in so that they wouldn't spill their contents when she hit the patch of rough water where the Cul-de-Sac Marin opened into the Mouillage de Ste. Anne at the south end of Martinique. When she started the outboard and pulled away from the dock, she didn't notice Robert standing at the far corner of the grocery store building, studying her every move.

  To keep from thinking about Robert, she focused on the groceries bouncing in the bow of the dinghy as she sped out to Vengeance. She reviewed her menu plan, worried that she might have over-bought because she wasn't accustomed to shopping for just one charter guest.

  She smiled, thinking of how easily Connie Barrera had slipped into the routine of life aboard Vengeance. Connie was the least demanding guest that she and Dani had hosted, especially since Connie had decided that she wanted to buy a yacht of her own and go into the business. Dani had balked at first when Connie wanted to take on the role of deck crew; such behavior from a paying guest was unusual.

  Dani didn't mind having Connie as an apprentice, but she told Liz that it felt wrong to charge their normal charter rates when Connie was doing her share of the dirty work. Dani and Liz had discussed that with Connie, offering to take her on as crew at no charge and pick up some paying customers as well, but Connie had insisted that she wanted to pay their rates and have exclusive use of Vengeance. "I'm getting my money's worth," she had said. "You don't have anyone else demanding your attention while you teach me everything. This has to be the quickest way for me to learn the trade. Besides, I owe you two for sticking with me through that trouble over the diamonds."

  Liz returned her attention to the groceries, making sure that she had everything they would need for the trip back north to St. Martin, where she could find a good selection of food at better prices than here in Martinique.

  ****

  The barracuda was motionless, suspended at the edge of Dani's peripheral vision. Although focused on her task, she was conscious of his presence. The creature was large for his kind, and she was invading his territory, but they were comfortable with each other. When she had first slipped into the water at the stern of Vengeance, she and the barracuda had eyed one another. In spite of their teeth and reputation, Dani didn't consider barracudas a threat. They weren't shy, but neither were they aggressive. As she went about scraping the accumulated marine growth from the propeller, the big predator hung in the water watching the small fish that feasted on the scraps Dani dislodged. Periodically, he would dart in and snatch one of the colorful little fish.

  Dani grasped the prop with her gloved left hand, rotating it to expose the blade that she had not yet cleaned. Needing a breath, she released her grip and let herself float to the surface, her rate of ascent slowed by the weight belt around her waist. As her head broke into the air, she exhaled vigorously to clear the water from her snorkel. The barracuda had stayed with her, holding his position just off her right shoulder. She studied him as she ventilated her lungs, preparing to drop below again and clean the last blade of the prop. Her lungs full, she put a hand on the bottom of the boat and pushed herself down, grasping the hub of the prop with her left hand as she drew her dive knife over the blade's surface. The knife left a cloud of small barnacles in its wake, attracting several gray snapper the size of her hand. As she extended the knife for another stroke, the barracuda struck in a flash of quicksilver.

  Dani smiled inside her dive mask as she watched him swallow the snapper. He hovered between her and the prop, one big eye focused on her. She extended her right arm and brushed the barracuda aside with the back of her hand. He offered no resistance to his forced relocation and resumed his vigil at her shoulder as she finished cleaning the last blade of the prop and sheathed her knife. She surfaced and pushed her mask up, resting it on her forehead as she drifted slowly away from Vengeance, propelled by the gentle current flowing through the anchorage.

  "Finished?" Connie asked, alerted by Dani's vigorous snort as she cleared her snorkel. She was floating, hanging onto the side of the boat a few yard
s from where Dani broke the surface.

  "Yes. How about you?"

  "Oh, almost. Another three feet or so," Connie said as she scrubbed the weed from the boat's waterline.

  "I'll go rinse off the salt and make us a pot of coffee," Dani said. "Liz should be back from her grocery run soon. Maybe she'll bring us some fresh pastry."

  "Yum," Connie said as she continued to scrub. "I'll be up in just a minute."

  ****

  Vengeance bobbed in the gentle waves of the anchorage off the village of Ste. Anne. The church bells chimed six o'clock as Connie poured red table wine into each of the three glasses on the cockpit table. Dani passed a glass to Liz as Connie picked up her own.

  "To another rotten day in paradise," Connie offered as they clicked their glasses.

  "Here's to more," Dani said, as she took a sip. She noticed that Liz was holding her glass, the wine untouched as she stared into the middle distance. "Liz?" she said.

  Liz gave her head a vigorous shake. "Sorry." She forced a smile and raised the glass to her lips.

  "What's wrong?" Dani asked.

  "Oh, nothing. Just lost in thought." Liz set her glass on the table. She gave the two of them another smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

  They watched as the sun touched the horizon, marveling at how suddenly it dropped from view in the tropics. Liz picked up her glass and slugged back the wine. "Guess I'd best get dinner on," she said, rising from the cockpit seat and stepping through the companionway.

  Connie caught Dani's eye again and raised an eyebrow. Dani shrugged. Soon, they heard the soft sound of John Coltrane's sax drifting up from the galley as Liz began chopping vegetables with excessive vigor.

  "What's wrong with her?" Connie asked. "Do you think I did something to offend her?"

  "I don't know. I don't think so. She's the even-tempered one; something's troubling her all right, but I don't think it's you. I can't remember ever seeing her like this. Guess she'll tell us what's up when she's ready."

  After a moment's silence, Dani asked, "You up for spending some time communing with the diesel in the morning?"

  "Sure," Connie said. "What do we have to do?"

  "Well, it's time for an oil change and a few other routine maintenance items. Besides, there's an air leak in the fuel system somewhere. Doesn't want to start after it sits for a few days. I'd like to get that sorted out while we're here. There's a good diesel shop in the marina, and I think we may need to get the injector pump rebuilt. That can't be done just anywhere, and I don't want to get stuck somewhere while we ship it off for repairs. If I can't find a leak anywhere else, we'll pull the pump and take it in. You learn to do preemptive maintenance in the islands."

  "So how long will that take?"

  "Depends on how busy the shop is, but most likely a couple of days. That okay with you?"

  "Of course. It's all part of my education." Connie smiled.

  The music from below stopped abruptly.

  "Dinner's on the table," Liz called from the galley.

  Chapter 2

  The two men stood in the shadows of the trees, keeping a furtive eye on the automobile traffic. During the daytime, the area along the shoulder of the road was used as an extension of the public market, but at night when the food vendors were gone, other substances changed hands here. The swarthy man held the small parcel just out of Robert's reach.

  "Firs', you mus' pay, 'Berto. You know this."

  Robert's hungry stare was fixed on the packet. "Soon. I'll have some money soon, but I'm too sick to work; please, just this once?"

  "Tha's what you say las' time, 'Berto. I gotta pay the man; you gotta pay me. He don't wait no more. You 'member what happen to your beautiful wife las' time."

  "After what you did to her, we're even. Give me what I need."

  "No. We not even. Not close to even. We jus' do her the one time while you watch to show you what happen when you lose shipments. Now she wit' some real men; she learnin' to like, I t'ink. She payin' her share, but you gotta pay too."

  "You know I can't come up with that kind of money; I need some goods. You front me, and I can sell enough to pay you in a few weeks."

  "Not gon' happen. You pay firs', then we see."

  "How can I pay first?" Robert's hands were shaking as he stared at the packet.

  "You got nice yacht. You sell yacht, you can pay."

  "You know I can't. The bank owns the yacht. If I sell in this market, I won't get enough to pay off the loan."

  "So, then you mus' use the yacht to make some money."

  "You want me to carry product again? I don't understand."

  "No. No trus' you to carry product after las' time. We got some idea for charter business."

  The man put an arm around Robert's shoulder and began to speak into his ear as they walked along the roadside. Robert nodded as he listened. When they approached the marina where Robert's dinghy was tied, Robert felt the man slip the parcel into the outside pocket of his cargo shorts. His spirits lifted at the prospect of doing a few lines when he got back to his boat.

  "Hokay, 'Berto. One las' chance. St. Vincent, three days."

  Robert nodded as the man stepped around to face him. Before he could speak, the man drove the stiffened fingers of his left hand into Robert's solar plexus and watched as Robert gasped and sunk to his knees. He snapped a booted foot into Robert's ribs.

  "Jus' so you don' forget, 'Berto." The man smiled and turned, walking away, whistling.

  ****

  Liz sipped absently at the mug of tea and then returned it to the dining table. She was alone aboard Vengeance, Dani and Connie having taken the dinghy into Marin. She had begged off, volunteering to put the tools away after their morning of tinkering with the engine. She wanted time to herself; she needed to sort out her thoughts. She had passed a miserable night, slipping into short snatches of restless sleep, memories and frenzied dreams mingling as she tried to reconcile her feelings with the reality of her previous relationship with Robert Delorme.

  "Bastard," she muttered, thinking of how he had used her. She shook her head, reminding herself that she had been a willing participant in her own betrayal. He had seemed so smooth and sure of himself at a time when she was struggling with the loss of her father and the transition from university to the workplace. Her mother died when Liz was very young; she had no memory of her. Her father had raised her, and she had worshipped him. After his death, she had felt utterly alone in the world until she took up with Robert.

  She had been flattered that a man like Robert was interested in helping her cope with the complex politics of the European Commission, where she had just begun work as a financial analyst. With a year of experience to his credit, Robert seemed to have a solid grasp of how to get things done, and he had been generous in helping Liz get oriented, or at least so she had thought.

  He was charming and they were both just starting their careers. Time spent together on projects soon became time shared after work and on weekends, and they had begun discussing plans for a future together. They had discovered that they both had a passion for sailing, although their finances precluded doing more than dreaming about it, at least for some time.

  Liz remembered amusing herself while Robert was back in the U.K. for a family holiday; she had spent the time researching bareboat charters in the Greek Islands, planning to surprise him when he returned. Her father had been an avid sailor, passing on his love of the sea to Liz. He had left her a small inheritance, and she thought it would be fitting to spend some of it sailing with the new man in her life.

  When she met Robert's flight upon his return, she had immediately sensed the change in his demeanor. She had greeted him with open arms, only to be surprised by a somewhat awkward peck on the cheek in return. "What's wrong?" she had asked, the charter brochures clutched in her right hand.

  He shook his head, frowning as he glanced around the greeting area. "Let me get my bag," he said, walking toward the baggage claim area. Confused, Liz ha
d followed as he pushed through the crowd, oblivious to her effort to stay beside him. "Robert?" she had called after him as he slipped away. He continued to the conveyor belt, ignoring her.

  She finally caught up with him as he grabbed his suitcase from the moving belt. He turned to go to the taxi stand and almost ran into her. "Liz, I need some space, please." He frowned as he headed for the door. "I'll call you in a day or two, okay?" he said, looking over his shoulder.

  She experienced the pain and confusion again, remembering how the brochures slipped from her grasp as tears blurred her vision. She didn't remember going back to her apartment, but she knew she had spent several days there in a fugue state. She couldn't remember details, but she must have explained her absence from work in a satisfactory manner. During her self-imposed exile, a letter had come from Robert.

  "Dearest Liz," she remembered reading, the words as clear in her mind as if she held the paper before her eyes. "I haven't the courage to face you, and it pains me to think of the hurt that I have caused, but it's probably best if I don't see you again. Don't worry that we'll run into each other at work, as I've resigned. By the time you read this, I will be back in England. My wife's father has made a place for me in his business." She recalled her shock at learning that he was married, and the crushing blow of his closing sentence: "I hope that one day you'll be able to look back on the time we had together as the happy interlude which it certainly was for me. Fondly, Robert."

  ****

  Dani and Connie sat munching pastries and sipping espresso in the cafe at the marina in Le Marin. They had dropped off the injector pump at the diesel shop a few minutes earlier, and Connie had been unable to resist the tray of fresh baked goods as they passed the restaurant on their way back to the dinghy dock.

  "How's the pain au chocolat?" Dani asked.

  "Not as good as Liz's," Connie said. "She still seems subdued this morning."