Realizing that she had an ample supply of fresh fruit in her canvas shopping bag, she glanced at her watch. It had only been 30 minutes since she left the boat. She wouldn't have to start preparations for dinner for another hour. She decided to call on Dani's friend, Mrs. Walker, who ran a small restaurant with an adjoining grocery store.
She ambled down the shady street that paralleled Bequia's waterfront, admiring the carefully tended flowers that grew in the median. Actually, it wasn't a median; it wasn't in the middle of the street, but it did divide the sparsely traveled road into a pedestrian lane and one that was occasionally used by a motor vehicle. The road came to an uncertain end as she reached Mrs. Walker's place. It wasn't exactly a dead end, nor was it quite a parking lot. The road just sort of lost interest and fizzled out.
She stepped into the cool shadows of the empty, open-air dining room to find Mrs. Walker in the sitting area against the south wall, reading a magazine. She looked up, and a smile of welcome split her regal chocolate-brown face. "Hello, Liz. You're a welcome sight. Is Dani with you?"
She rose to her imposing six-foot height, her grace and erect posture at odds with her age, which Liz knew must be well over 80 years. She wrapped Liz in a warm hug, finishing by holding her by her shoulders at arm's length, studying her as if memorizing every feature.
"Dani's well, but she's in Martinique; I'm here on a friend's boat. It's a long story," Liz grinned ruefully.
"Well, sit down, child. I've got the rest of my life; there's no rush." As they settled into the white-painted rattan couch with its locally produced, hand-made batik cushions, Mrs. Walker called toward the kitchen. "Marianne, bring a pot of tea for me and Liz, please."
The time passed quickly, and Liz, to her surprise, found that she was perfectly comfortable unburdening herself to this woman. She knew it was partly because of the prominent part Mrs. Walker had played in Dani's upbringing, but the genteel old lady just had a way about her that put people at ease.
Her long-deceased husband had been a business partner of Dani's father, and when the two men had been away on their mysterious ventures, Dani had stayed with Mrs. Walker, sometimes for weeks on end. When Dani introduced Liz to her early in their relationship, Liz had fallen immediately under her maternal spell; she felt that Mrs. Walker had become a relative.
Liz was startled when she heard the old wind-up clock on the sideboard strike four. She checked her watch, not quite believing how much time had passed. "I'd best be going; I have to cook for the guests. Thank you so much for listening. I feel a lot better."
Mrs. Walker smiled and nodded. Both women stood, and she enfolded Liz's slim form in her solid embrace, patting her on the back. "Anytime, child. Anytime. Now go and take care of those people, and don't you worry anymore. You've got things figured out; it may not seem like it, but it will all be fine in the end. Trust me."
"Yes, ma'am. Thanks again." Liz felt a smile rising from deep within. She felt sure of herself again; Mrs. Walker was right. She laughed when she heard herself whistling as she walked back to the dinghy dock.
****
Liz heard soft calypso music drifting from below decks when she brought the dinghy alongside Isis. She was surprised that no one was on deck. She stood in the dingy for a moment, looking at the beach to see if their guests might need a ride back to Isis. She had monopolized the dinghy, but the beach was only a short swim away. There was no one in sight, other than the patrons of the bar which was just at the edge of the trees that encroached on the pristine expanse of sand.
She tied the dinghy painter to the midship cleat and set her bag of fruit up on the side deck before she climbed aboard. Picking up the bag, she walked to the companionway and climbed below into a fug of sweet, pungent smoke. Grass, she thought, surprised that Robert had permitted that. It could cost him his boat, not to mention a prison sentence. She noticed that Gus had nodded off. He sat on the port settee, slumped forward, massive arms crossed on the table top, pillowing his head of curly black hair.
As she distributed the fruit in the small, cotton-mesh hammocks that hung in the galley, she heard a man's groans and a woman's soft murmurs as she encouraged him. "Yes, yes. That's it; more, more…" Robert and Kandi were in the aft stateroom. Liz was stunned. She was surprised that they were brazen enough to mess around while Gus snoozed just a few steps away. She didn't realize that her stare had been fixed on the flimsy door that was closed to provide at least visual privacy for the couple until she was brought back to the present by Gus's hand grasping her shoulder.
Startled, she whirled and found herself in his arms. As he pressed her to himself and nibbled at the side of her neck, she realized that he was stark naked. She struggled as he pinned her against the galley counter. She tried to push him away as he tugged at her shirt, pulling it from the waistband of her shorts. "Stop!' she hissed.
He paused. "Listen to them," he said as Kandi vocalized her pleasure at whatever was happening. "Don't you want to join in?"
"No."
"Let's do a couple of lines; loosen you up. Or we got all kinds of pills and shit. Whatever you want. You got some catching up to do; we kind of started without you, but I've been saving myself just for you." He had loosened her belt as he spoke. He tugged at the waistband of her shorts until the button popped off. As he began to work the fabric down over her hips, he took a half-step back, giving himself room to work.
Taking advantage of the space, Liz put her hands on the edge of the counter top behind her for leverage and brought her right knee up smartly. She made solid contact with his groin, and he slumped toward her, both hands instinctively covering his crotch. Liz crouched a little until she felt the face of the cabinet behind her against her buttocks.
As she pushed off from the cabinet with her hips, she straightened up, thrusting herself erect with all the strength in her legs as she put her weight behind her right hand. As it approached her target, she turned her palm out, splayed her fingers, and flexed her wrist back. Her hand was as stiff as a board when the meaty part of its heel came up under her assailant's chin.
She knew it was a perfect strike when she heard his teeth crack. His eyes were already rolling back in his head as she followed through, lunging and driving her right elbow into his sternum. He fell back against the counter behind him and collapsed gracefully to the floor before she could deliver her next blow, which she had intended as a knuckle strike to the larynx with her already-poised left hand.
She listened to the uninterrupted sounds from the aft cabin as she tucked in her shirt and fastened her belt. Taking a deep breath, she stepped over the unconscious Gus and dashed to her cabin. Grateful that she hadn't had time to unpack, she threw her few toiletries into the open duffel bag and zipped it shut as she retraced her steps to the cockpit.
She dropped the duffel bag into the dinghy, untied the painter and climbed in, allowing it to drift away a few yards before starting the outboard. "Wouldn't want to disturb the love birds," she muttered under her breath as the engine roared to life. She threaded her way through the anchored boats and tied the dinghy to the town dock, deciding that was the best place to leave it. Anywhere else might make it too easy to find her if Gus and Robert got ashore and came looking.
Slinging the duffel bag over her shoulder, she walked down the street to Mrs. Walker's, which by now would be crowded with yachties enjoying her dinner menu. Liz turned off the main street just before she reached the spill of light in front of the restaurant and made her way along the shadowy lane that led to the back door. She opened the door and stepped into the kitchen, startling the cook.
"Liz?" Marianne asked. "Why you comin' in the back?"
"I didn't want anyone to see me."
Marianne nodded. Curiosity and concern were evident on her broad, friendly face, but she just shrugged and stepped into the dining room, returning in a moment with Mrs. Walker.
"Welcome back, child. Marianne thinks you're in trouble. Come with me." Mrs. Walker went out the door through which Liz ha
d entered a moment before and led the way up an overgrown path with a sure-footed gait. Liz placed her feet carefully, remembering that some of the tree roots made for treacherous footing. She could barely keep up with the older woman, but they only had a short distance to go before they were on the porch of Mrs. Walker's cottage.
Mrs. Walker flipped a switch as she stepped through the door, flooding the small, neat living room with soft light. "Let's just put your bag in Dani's room."
Liz followed her through a doorway into a room with a single bed, a wash stand, and a chest of drawers. She dropped her duffel bag at the foot of the bed.
"Now you just freshen yourself up. The toilet is right on down at the end of the hall. I'm going to make us a pot of tea while you get yourself sorted; then we can talk."
Chapter 11
Liz relaxed a bit as she settled into the seat on the small LIAT plane and buckled her seatbelt. In spite of Mrs. Walker's reassurances last night, she had been worried about the repercussions from her altercation aboard Isis. Mrs. Walker had talked her out of calling the authorities, saying that she would let Lt. Anderson know about the drugs once Liz was safely out of St. Vincent.
"He's a good boy and he knows you wouldn't be mixed up in that, but still, we don't know who else these people may be paying off. Better for you to be gone and answer their questions over the phone," she had advised.
Liz, remembering how well-connected the old lady was by virtue of her deceased husband's business, had taken her advice. Mrs. Walker had promised to call Anderson when the customs office opened, by which time Liz's flight would be approaching Martinique. When the door was closed and the plane began to taxi, the last of her tension melted away and she dropped off into a dreamless sleep. She was startled to wakefulness by the shock of the wheels touching down in Martinique. She rubbed her eyes and flexed cramped muscles as the plane taxied to the terminal.
After she had cleared immigration and customs, she stepped into the arrivals area and was surprised to see Dani and Connie waving at her from across the crowded lobby. She worked her way through the crowd and dropped her duffel bag as she was swept into a three-way hug by her friends.
"Welcome home," Dani said.
"Mrs. Walker must have gotten you. I tried calling last night, but I couldn't get through to the sat phone -- didn't even get the voice mail."
"She told us," Dani said.
"Did she tell you what happened?"
"There was no time. We barely had time to arrange to borrow Phillip's Jeep and get to the airport. She wants us to call when we get back to Vengeance," Dani said over her shoulder as she lifted Liz's duffel bag and led the way to the Jeep. She tossed the bag into the small cargo area as Connie climbed into the back seat. "So what did happen?"
As they crawled through the heavy traffic leaving the airport, Liz told her story.
"Glad you took her advice and got out of there," Dani said. "She's right; especially in light of Anderson's comment about the smugglers in the speedboat."
"That was weird," Connie said. "Did Robert offer any explanation at all for that?"
"He said it was a pirate attack."
"That's unlikely," Dani said.
"Yes. I didn't believe him. He said they were beaten, and he implied that his wife was raped while he was held at gunpoint."
"Sounds like they were mixed up in the drug business to me," Connie said. "Lucky that you're out of that. What will happen when the cops board Isis?"
"Depends on how well-connected those people are," Dani said. "Anderson's straight, and so are most of the officials, but it's a small, poor country. If they're a big enough operation to have some of the politicians on their payroll, they might get away with it, unless that jerk Liz hit doesn't recover."
"I didn't hit him that hard," Liz said. "I pulled my follow-up punch when he collapsed. Guess he had a glass jaw."
"I've told you about that. If you have to hit somebody, you should always follow through and finish 'em. He could have been faking," Dani said.
"He was finished. I was afraid at first that I broke his neck."
Connie shook her head. "You two," she mused. "Glad we're friends."
"I'm glad you're stuck here waiting on that injector pump," Liz said as they turned into Phillip's driveway. "I would have hated to miss the boat."
****
"I keep getting her voicemail," Dani said to her expectant audience. They were sitting on the veranda at Phillip's and Sandrine's, having returned the Jeep and accepted Phillip's offer of coffee and pastries. Sandrine had already gone to work. Liz had repeated her story for Phillip's benefit while Dani tried to call Mrs. Walker.
"She's probably still on the phone with Anderson," Phillip said. "The customs office in Bequia's only been open for 15 minutes, and that's if they were on time."
Liz glanced at her watch. "I'm seriously out of synch. So much happened so quickly, and I'm used to the world moving at a slower pace."
"You can slow down again," Connie said. "The diesel shop is definitely on island time."
"What's the holdup, anyway?" Liz asked.
"They had to order a seal kit for the injector pump. Guess it's coming from France. Or maybe all the way from…" Dani was interrupted by the chirping of the satellite phone.
She glanced at the caller i.d. screen as she raised the phone to her ear. "Good morning, Mrs. Walker." She listened for a moment, a frown creasing her forehead. "We're here with Phillip. Can I put you on the speaker?" She nodded and set the phone in the center of the table, pressing the hands-free button. "You're on."
"Good morning, everyone," Mrs. Walker's clear, strong voice piped incongruously from the tinny speaker. "Liz?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm here."
"It's a good thing you're not still in Bequia. I just got off the phone with Donnie Anderson."
"So you told him what happened?" Liz asked.
"I didn't have to. As soon as I mentioned you and Isis, he took over. The police were already involved."
"What happened?" Dani asked.
"They got a call early this morning from somebody on a boat anchored near Isis reporting a man hanging by his neck from the masthead. It turned out to be Robert Delorme."
Liz blanched. She swallowed hard before asking, "What about the charter guests?"
"There was no sign of them. No luggage -- nothing to indicate that anybody had been aboard except Mr. Delorme. The police called Donnie to find out more about the boat and her crew. They're looking for you, a woman named Candace Dulzuras, and a man named Hector Augustus Contreras."
"Kandi, 'Ms. Dulzuras to you,' and Gus," Liz said, softly.
"Did you tell Anderson where Liz was?" Phillip asked.
"Of course not, Phillip," Mrs. Walker said.
Phillip chuckled. "Bet that made him happy."
"Well, I did have to remind him that I used to change his diapers, and his father's before him. That calmed him somewhat. I told him that I would try to get a message to Liz."
"Did you tell him what I told you last night?" Liz asked.
"No. That's your business. I just told him that you had some disagreement and left the other three having a party on Isis after you got back from the market and discovered they were doing drugs. He said that might explain why they found Isis's dinghy tied up to the town dock."
"I guess I'd better call him before their suspicions escalate," Liz said.
"Probably," Phillip agreed. "Is our old friend still the Chief Superintendent?"
"Yes," Mrs. Walker replied. "He'll be retiring in the next two or three years, I expect. He's the same age as my son."
"Why don't you hold off calling Anderson until I speak with him, Liz?" Phillip asked. "He can keep things calm, and we might as well know what's happening down there before you get tangled up in red tape. A few minutes won't make any difference to their investigation, and the Chief Super will keep them from jumping to conclusions just because you're the first one they found."
"I think that's best," Mrs. Walke
r added.
"Makes sense to me," Liz agreed.
They ended the call and Phillip excused himself, going inside to make his call to the Chief Superintendent of Police in St. Vincent.
"I'm still not used to being so cautious about dealing with the police," Connie said.
"That's a typical American attitude, especially if you've never been in trouble with them," Dani said.
"I guess," Connie said.
"Even in the best of places, caution is in order. Assuming they're honest to begin with, they still have a certain bias; they get paid for coming up with a credible solution to a crime as quickly as possible. After a while, justice falls by the wayside for most of them. It's all about statistics," Dani said.
"But what about Paul Russo? He's a cop," Connie asked.
"He's retired from the Miami Police, remember?"
"Yes, but…"
"He probably never was a typical cop," Dani interrupted. "Ask him about the pressure to 'solve' cases, sometime, though. There's a reason you should always have a lawyer's advice when you're mixed up with them. It doesn't mean the cops are bad. They just have their own agenda."
"And corruption is more of a problem…" Liz started to say.
"He'll call back in a couple of hours," Phillip interrupted as he sat down at the table and poured himself another cup of coffee.
"Any news?" Liz asked.
"Not really. There's no sign of the two charter guests. The police got copies of the passport photos out to the airport in Kingstown right after you left. They know you left for Martinique on the first LIAT flight, but there's no trace of the others."
"So do I need to call Lt. Anderson?"
"The Chief said to wait until he calls back; he's okay with just knowing you're available for the moment. He'll cover for you with his troops, if need be."
"Good. I'd like to get back to Vengeance and stow my gear."
"Makes sense. I called Sandrine while I was inside. She wants us to meet her for lunch at the marina restaurant; she can hardly wait to hear all the gory details. You up for that?"
The three women nodded.
Bluewater Betrayal: The Fifth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 5) Page 7