LC 04 - Skeleton Crew

by Beverly Connor

  Gina was quick and clean with her excavation. She motioned for Trey to come over and take a reading of its placement in the ship. That shoe had survived for almost four hundred and forty years in the anaerobic environment of the ocean mud. Now that it was exposed to the air, it would deteriorate quickly. Once artifacts were uncovered, it was important to get them out of the ground and into an environment where they could be stabilized.

  Lindsay moved back to her excavation unit to allow the photographers and the mappers freer access to Gina's find. For her part, she needed to get the skeleton out of the ground as quickly as she could. Everything about this dig was urgent-especially with the feel of the ocean around them. Summer was the best season to do the excavation, but it was also hurricane season. Like a bad tune you can't keep out of your mind, Jeff's mention of the term "storm surge" kept creeping into Lindsay's thoughts. What would happen if ... "Who's that?" asked Bobbie.

  They all looked up to see John West escorting a woman with long blonde hair down the scaffolding stairs. The first thing Lindsay thought was that the woman was going to get her white silk blouse and beige linen slacks dirty.

  "Well, damn," whispered Trey. "I believe it's Evangeline Jones."

  Chapter 5

  ALL HEADS JERKED up as Trey stepped across the planking toward the visitor. She stuck her hand out to him and introduced herself as Eva Jones. John West stood beside her with his arms folded. He caught Lindsay's gaze and winked at her.

  "I'll get to the point," Eva Jones said, loud enough for all to hear. "It was none of my crew who shot your guy today, and I don't know who it was. It was stupid, and I don't hire stupid people."

  "I'm glad to hear it," Trey replied. "My crew said the Painted Lady was not more than a quarter-mile from where my divers were surveying."

  "It was. I'm doing my own looking. It's a big ocean, Marcus. Big enough for all of us. I don't need the kind of trouble that shooting divers would bring me. I can account for the whereabouts of all my divers. They were nowhere near yours."

  "How do you know where mine were?" asked Trey.

  Eva Jones smiled. "I don't. But my divers were alone. I keep track of them." She looked around at the site. "So, we're on the ocean floor. Damn, I'm impressed." She turned to go, then abruptly turned back to Trey. "I'll keep my people away from yours, and I assume you'll do the same. I don't want trouble."

  "We are conducting an archaeological survey in Georgia waters," Trey said. "My divers will go where the artifacts lead them. I'm assuming you're looking for the recreation of it and don't intend to loot any of Georgia's historical resources."

  Lindsay watched a smile play around Eva Jones's lips, but it never made it to her dark eyes. "I'm really weary of arguing with you archaeologists who think that everything that is ever lost in this world has to either stay where it fell or wait for you to pick it up. I operate within the law. That's all you need to know." She turned and left. John followed her out. They all watched her until she was out of sight over the dam walls.

  "Well, what do you make of that?" asked Lindsay.

  "The Coast Guard paid her a visit and she didn't like it," Trey said.

  "What's she looking for out there?" asked Juliana.

  Trey seemed deep in thought as he shook his head in reply.

  The day ended for Lindsay and the crew at three o'clock. Discounting the hour she had for lunch, with only brief breaks, she had been lying on the narrow plank for eight hours. She stood and stretched her tired muscles. Bobbie stood beside her and yawned, covering her mouth with a clean spot on her forearm. Lindsay wanted to rub her eyes, but she had removed her gloves for the intricate parts of the excavation and her hands were covered with dark gray sandy muck. Instead, she closed her eyes tight, then opened them to see people coming down the scaffolding like an invading force. They were the night crew. They arrived early to be shown by the day crew what had to be done during the next shift.

  Lindsay was loath to give up her skeleton to someone else, but she understood the need to excavate the site as quickly as possible. Her replacements were a couple of Trey's new graduate students whom she had seen around the department. She showed them how to proceed from where she and Bobbie had left off. One of the guys was a little defensive about being told how to do his job. The other was happy to be working on such an interesting find. Lindsay wondered how well they would work together. Satisfied that they knew what to do, she and Bobbie left them to it. Lindsay retrieved her notebook from the field desk and climbed the stairway to the top of the cofferdam.

  "You'll be rooming with me. I hope you don't mind," said Bobbie.

  "No. That'll be nice. We have a cabin on one of the barges, is that right?"

  "Yes. I hope you don't get seasick. If you do, they can find a place for you in the lab on the island. A few of the crew stay there."

  "I think I'll adjust." Lindsay stood in the sand at the top of the dam with Bobbie and the rest of the crew and looked down into the pit where the night crew continued the excavation. She could see little difference from when she had started that morning. Disentombing the Estrella de Espana would be a long and slow process.

  The dock of the cofferdam had a gangplank leading to the barge Winchester. The barge wafted gently in the water, and Lindsay stood for a moment after coming aboard, adjusting to the movement, getting her sea legs. The barge had a large deck in comparison to its cabin area. Perfect for the kind of work they were putting it to.

  She followed Bobbie past rows of the Estrella's timbers covered with sea-soaked blankets, past the screens used to separate artifacts from sand and mud, to a place where some of the crew were gathered rinsing their hands with a hose. Lindsay cleaned the mud from her hands, frowning at the grit under her nails.

  Their boots were loud on the metal floor and the sounds of their footsteps echoed off the metal walls as Bobbie led her down a hatchway into a barely lit narrow hallway.

  "We have the third room on the right."

  Lindsay had to duck her head going into the small, sparse room, furnished only with two twin-size beds, a desk, a sink, and a single closet.

  "I have the far bed, if that's all right?" asked Bobbie.

  "Sure." Lindsay's bags had been put on the remaining stripped bed. She slid them under the bed and opened the single small closet. Her scuba gear was neatly stored beside Bobbie's. "So this is home."

  Bobbie grinned. "You'll get used to it. You brought sheets and stuff, I hope."

  "Yes, everything on Trey's list. Where's the-"

  "Turn left out the door, to the end of the hall, and hang a right. It's the first door on the left. About half of us have to use it, so showers are quick."

  "I imagine this time of day there's a line at the shower."

  "Yep. If you have to go, the toilet has its own little closet."

  Lindsay heard the barge's engine come to life and cover the noise of the ocean with a humming-puffing-tapping sound that settled into a rhythm. Gears ground as the capstan pulled up the anchors, and she felt the barge lurch gently as it moved away from the dock.

  "Every day we take the timber and other artifacts to the lab on St. Magdalena. There's a big fabricated-metal warehouse with brine holding tanks for the timber. We have the end-of-the-day meeting in the lab from four till five, then we're through for the evening." Bobbie fished a towel and washcloth from her side of the closet and headed for the door. "We're sharing lab space on St. Maggie with the biologists. Don't expect them to be friendly. This is a research preserve, and Lewis came in with big bucks and kind of took over a lot of their space."

  Lindsay lucked out. She was third in line to get a shower just behind Bobbie. The stall was small and plain, but it had running water. Lindsay knew how to take quick showers. Inside of seven minutes she was back in her cabin, clean and refreshed.

  "Chamberlain, phone call." The voice was just outside the door.

  "The phone's in the hall." Bobbie opened the door and pointed Lindsay to a recess a few feet from their door.
>
  "Rabbit, this is John."

  He hadn't needed to tell her who he was. John West was the only person in the world who called her Rabbit.

  "You settled in?"

  "Yes, the accommodations are quite nice, compared to many sites I've worked at."

  "Why don't I take you to dinner? It's your first night. We can go up the intracoastal waterway to a seafood place I know near Fernandina."

  "I'd like that. What should I wear?" There was silence for a long moment. John was evidently not prepared for a fashion consultation. Lindsay smiled into the phone. "Will slacks and a blouse be all right?"

  "Fine. I'll meet you at St. Magdalena."

  Bobbie's white halter top and khaki shorts contrasted well with her brown skin and black hair. She had pulled her still-damp hair up into a ponytail and was slipping her feet into a pair of brown sandals when Lindsay returned.

  "So, going out to dinner with West?" Bobbie grinned. "Gina and Juliana are going to be envious."

  "Well, it ought to be interesting. He really hates my work."

  "Gives you something good to talk about."

  "What are you doing this evening?"

  "A group of us are going to eat on the barge and hang out with Sarah. She's really spooked about what happened. And that guy from the Coast Guard didn't help, either."

  I imagine you're kind of spooked, too. Don't be too upset over the Coast Guard. Everything's probably old hat to them and they forget to be sensitive."

  "He acted like we did it."

  "I don't think he really thought that. This excavation has given him more work to deal with and he doesn't like it-"

  "That's funny about the Jones woman showing up, isn't it?" Bobbie checked herself out in the mirror over the sink.

  "I was kind of surprised." Lindsay put on an aquamarine cotton short-sleeved blouse and a pair of white slacks. "Is this all right for the restaurants along the coast? John wasn't able to help."

  "Sure, that's fine. You look great."

  "I think she was scoping out the place." Lindsay ran a brush through her long hair and pulled it up into a ponytail.

  "For what? A raid?"

  "Just to see what we're up to, to see maybe if we've found anything valuable. Or, to let us know that, if it was her men, it won't happen again."

  Lindsay slipped on a pair of white leather sandals, grabbed a light sweater, and went up top with Bobbie. The barge was almost to the island. St. Magdalena was only five miles from the dam and, even though the barge moved very slowly, it took less than thirty minutes to reach the dock. Some of the crew were preparing to offload the timber to be taken to the brine tanks. Lindsay followed Bobbie down a wooden walkway toward the main building.

  The Magdalena House was a large dark cedar three-story structure that fit into the flora of the island as if it had grown there. The first floor, largely concealed by the wraparound deck above it, sat on top of the ground. It was covered with stone and had only a small closed window and one door that Lindsay could see. The second story, the one they were about to enter, had large double doors and glass picture windows on at least two sides. The topfloor windows were regular size with closed rattan blinds. A satellite dish sat on the roof, pointing at some spot in the sky.

  Beside the walkway, separated from them only by height and railing, was an alligator pond. Lindsay searched the surface of the pond and spotted the brow ridge, head, and back of an alligator, so still in the water it could have been a log.

  "Guard dog?" Lindsay asked.

  "Spooky, huh? Can't you almost hear the clock in his stomach ticking?"

  Lindsay and Bobbie walked up the wooden ramp to the deck and entered a reception area decorated with racks of brochures, hanging plants, and prints of local flora and fauna. There was no receptionist. Lindsay suspected that Lewis had stopped most of the tours of the island until the excavation was finished. There weren't many anyway. This was one of the islands used as an experimental habitat for breeding colonies of several rare species of animals.

  "The conservation lab is on the ground floor," said Bobbie. "There're some offices up here and a few apartments upstairs. The translator stays up there. You've met Harper, haven't you? I think Trey has a thing for her."

  A woman rounded the corner and almost ran into them. "Oh, someone else," she said, looking at Lindsay. "I hope you don't intend to stay here. It's getting rather crowded."

  "Tessa." Bobbie smiled. "Nice of you to greet us. This is Dr. Chamberlain. She's staying on the barge."

  "Good. I think I should tell you that a group of us are signing a petition to get you all moved off the island. You can't just come here and take everything away from us. Our work is importantmore important than yours." She paused, frustration clear on her angry face. "We were here first."

  Bobbie cocked an eyebrow. "I'll tell you right now, that argument won't work. Look, this isn't going to be forever."

  "Oh, you haven't heard?" She brandished a letter in their faces. "Lewis is planning to build a museum on the island. Listen, the environment won't be able to recover from the number of tourists that will be required to make such an enterprise pay off." Tessa's face had turned red, and Lindsay could see she was having to strain to hold back tears. "We have always worked well with you archaeologists. How could you do this to us-to the island? There aren't many untouched islands left."

  "A museum?" asked Lindsay.

  "Yes, and he wants to make the island a theme park." Tessa almost sobbed.

  "I really doubt that. Whatever you think of Lewis, he's an archaeologist, not Walt Disney," Lindsay said, trying to get a look at the letter the woman held in her hand. It looked like a fax, but she couldn't see for sure.

  Others from the barge came through the doors, talking and laughing. Tessa threw up her hands and started to leave, when they heard a splash and yells of distress just beyond the entrance.

  Chapter 6

  LINDSAY AND BOBBIE rushed outside. Several people leaned over the railing, looking into the pond and yelling at an elderly man who was splashing wildly, cursing, and clearly not listening to the profusion of advice from above.

  "Oh, Christ, it's Boote. I'll bet he's drunk." The voice sounded like Tessa's, but Lindsay didn't look behind her, instead she hurried to the scene and saw that a piece of lower railing had come loose.

  "We need to help him," Lindsay said. "If he is drunk, he probably can't help himself."

  She looked over at the alligator. It was as still as a log in the same spot on the other side of the pond. She started to kneel down, but felt herself gently pushed aside.

  "Boote, old man," said John West, kneeling and reaching out toward him. "Don't make me have to come in and drag you out of there. Swim toward me."

  The alligator submerged and someone yelled. Boote, as if just realizing where he was, darted his head back and forth, looking, then panicked, flailed his arms, and went under.

  "Well, shit," said John. He sat down on the walkway, dangled his legs over the side, and eased himself into the water.

  The pond wasn't deep. It came only up to John's chest as he waded toward the spot were Boote went under. The old man surfaced, sputtering, and John grabbed him before he could go under again. He yelled and fought as if caught by the alligator. John put an arm across Boote's chest and glided him through the water the few feet to the walkway. Jeff and Nate, one arm in a sling, helped John haul the old man up.

  "Don't get your arm wet with that muck," Jeff said to Nate. "It'll get infected."

  John pulled himself onto the walkway, stood and looked down at his wet muddy clothes, and frowned. "Boote, you better have a good reason for falling into the swamp." He knelt beside Jeff and Nate, who were holding Boote in a sitting position with his head between his knees as he coughed.

  "He seems to be all right," Nate said. "Just swallowed some water."

  "That can't be good for him," said Jeff.

  "Well, no, I don't reckon it is," said John.

  "What happened?" asked Lindsay
.

  "Can't you see?" said Tessa. "He fell through the railing. It's your fault, all of you. Moving your equipment up the ramp here like a bulldozer, tearing up the railing."

  She turned her attention to Boote, who had raised his head to look at her, squinting, trying to keep the dripping water out of his eyes.

  "And you." Tessa pointed her finger. "You were told to stay away from here. Especially when you're drunk! Have you been out in your boat in that condition?"

  "Now listen here, missy. I been bringing my boy here since he was little. You people come and run us off ... studying my island. I could've told you 'bout my island, if you'd of asked."

  Lindsay and Bobbie couldn't resist looking at Tessa under raised brows.

  She jutted her chin forward. "It's not the same thing at all." She turned abruptly and hurried back up the walkway, brushing past Harper, who had just come through the double doors carrying a blanket.

  "I thought he might need this." Harper placed the blanket around Boote's shoulders. "You all right, Mr. Teal?"

  "Thank y' ma'am."

  Nate pulled the blanket close under the old man's chin.

  "I'll take you home," said John. "I have to go change clothes anyway." He put a hand on the old man's arm and guided him to his feet. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

  "I was wondering if any of you seen Keith. He's good about looking in on me. He always brings me Sunday dinner. He didn't come Sunday last. I went over to the neighbors and used their phone to call some of his friends. They ain't seen him in about a week."

  "Couldn't he have gone somewhere-Savannah or Atlanta maybe, and you forgot?" asked Nate.

  The old man opened his eyes wide. "Atlanta. He has this girl he likes to visit in Atlanta sometimes."

  "He's what, forty years old?" asked John. "I think he can probably take care of himself." John smiled at Lindsay, told her he'd be back, and guided Boote toward the dock. Lindsay watched the old man as he walked, unsteady on his feet, supported by John, trailing the blanket like an imperial robe.