LC 04 - Skeleton Crew

by Beverly Connor

  "This job must be quite a change of pace for you guys."

  "You can say that again. Is archaeology always this exciting?"

  "It's always exciting, just not usually so-adventurous."

  "Robert and I are gearing up for a lot of treasure hunters. I'm glad we've got a few National Guardsmen here."

  "Me, too. I can't find my post card, so I think I'll go on up to bed."

  "I'll lock up," said Bowers. "Oh, there's some stuff pinned to that bulletin board in the kitchen. Someone may have found it and stuck it up there."

  "That's a good thought. I'll go look."

  Lindsay walked back to the kitchen. The board was filled with pieces of paper. She began looking through them for the card. The back door opened and Nate entered.

  "Nate," said Lindsay, "what are you doing here?"

  "Looking for an opportunity to get you alone. I need my notebooks back."

  "You mean Keith's notebooks, don't you? The ones he recorded his coin data in, the ones that match the handwriting on the postcard I got from Boote."

  "Whoever's, I want them."

  "I don't have them."

  "No one else would take them."

  Lindsay eased back toward the hallway door. It opened and Bowers entered. Lindsay sighed.

  "I'm glad to see you. Will you walk me back to my room?"

  "No, Dr. Chamberlain. I can't do that."

  Chapter 33

  LINDSAY REMEMBERED WILLIAM Kuzniak saying that Nate was after Lewis to get new security guards. Of course-why couldn't she have remembered that while she was upstairs working out all those other things?

  "You and Robert are the divers who shot Nate aren't you? Did you mean to hit him, or were you simply giving Trey a reason to call the Coast Guard to maintain a close presence and harass Evangeline Jones to keep her out of the running for the galleon?"

  "You're right, Nate, she's quick," said Bowers. He looked at Lindsay. Tom Bowers was one of those people who looked friendly no matter what he was doing. "Too bad about the concussion. I'll bet if you had been thinking straight, you would have been quicker and avoided this situation." He walked over to the cabinet and got a bottle of whiskey.

  "I was thinking the same thing," Lindsay said. "Nate, for the record, it was you who hit me and left me in the dam, wasn't it?"

  "Yes. Who would have thought you could get away in a hurricane? But I'm glad you found the galleon."

  "I'll bet you are. You wouldn't have found it with that lame program of yours. You've been dry-labbing your data, haven't you? How long did you think you could get away with that? There would come a time when Lewis and your committee would examine your data closely and realize you were faking your successes."

  "Lewis. All this is his damn fault," Nate swore. "He wants results, all the time, results. It's a good program. I'm just not finished."

  "It's not Lewis's fault. He pushes all of us-me, Harper, Carolyn, Trey-even John. We just tell him our boundaries and he backs off. You didn't have to kill people, for heaven's sake."

  "Kill people? Nate, what's she talking about?"

  "Who do you think's generating all these dead bodies?" Lindsay asked.

  "You said it was the pirates," said Tom, looking uncertainly at Nate.

  "No. It was Nate," said Lindsay. "That must have really infuriated you, Nate-Keith, the man everyone referred to as a beach bum, coming up with a better method than yours for finc.ing wrecks."

  "My program is a simulation of ocean dynamics. Finc_ing wrecks is just part of it. His was just a bunch of observations."

  "Your program is a hodgepodge of incomplete data. You thought enough of Keith's observations to steal them from him. Was that what you argued about with Keith the night Mike Altman saw you?"

  "Keith wanted me to guarantee him a cut, a big cut. I couldn't give him a guarantee that would satisfy him."

  "So you killed him. And you attacked Boote when you wer t to steal the rest of Keith's notebooks-and the cross."

  "Shut up."

  "Look, Nate-" said Tom.

  "She's lying."

  "She's got some of it right," Tom said. "Look, we agreed :hat we'd just get her drunk and leave her somewhere so people wculd think she was crazy, or hit on the head too hard."

  "He killed Denton, too." Lindsay wished William or Dale or someone would come to the kitchen for water. But everyone went to the break room when they wanted something in the night. She thought about screaming, but she was too far away from everyone-no one would hear and it would force them into action.

  "Nate, tell me, did you kill those two?" Bowers asked.

  "No. Can't you see what she's trying to do?"

  "You found Denton here getting copies of diary pages from Mike-who stole them from us. Denton was giving them to Eva Jones. You couldn't have that, could you? Denton told you Jones was close, that she had something. She had a letter addressed to Valerian, didn't she? It was in code, the code the pilot of the Concepcion wrote in to Valerian, telling where the ship was. Jones found out that the diary from the Estrella mentioned the name Valerian and that it was written in code. She thought it was the same code. That's why she wanted the translation and a few pages of the diary-a little Rosetta stone to allow her to translate her letter."

  "Nate," said Tom, "what the heck is she talking about?"

  "She's just delirious. I told you, it will be easy just to make her look drunk. Come on." He grabbed her arm.

  "Denton didn't just tell you about the letter," she yelled as he pulled her across the kitchen. "You had to hold his head under water in the warehouse to force him to tell you. You know, don't you, they found sugar water in his lungs?"

  "Shut up." He started to slap her and she ducked, pulling away.

  Tom came up behind her and held her. Lindsay kicked at his shins and screamed. He put a hand over her mouth.

  "Hush now. I don't want to kill you, but I will hurt you to save myself. I know what you are going to say next. You're going to tell me that I haven't killed anyone, so now would be a good time to cut my losses. After all, I only took an underwater shot at Nate and that was for a good cause-to keep looters away from the area. I'm right, aren't I? That's what you were going to say?"

  He was right. That was exactly the argument she was going to present to him.

  "But you see," he continued, holding her so tight her ribs ached. "That's a lot of money on that ship. And Nate says he can see to it that we get a share. I know there are all kinds of guards there now, and a big portion has already been packed up by you guys, but Nate here is on the inside. He also tells me that there is a king's ransom still on the bottom that the ship dropped before it washed ashore."

  Lindsay tried to break away again. Tried to stomp his feet. He squeezed her around the middle so hard she thought she would pass out from the pain.

  "I have a sister like you," Tom said. "I love her. She's a great sister. She's smart like you. She values her brain more than any part of her body. I'll bet you're like that. I won't kill you, but I can put you in a choke hold and cut off the blood supply to your brain for just a few seconds. Do you know what that will do?" Lindsay nodded. "Good. You aren't going to struggle any more, are you?" She shook her head. He let go of her mouth, but held her upper arm in a hard grip, her injured arm, which was now throbbing from lack of circulation.

  "See, Nate, you don't have to kill people."

  "You can't let her go," began Nate.

  "Dammit, Nate. I've never killed anyone and I'm not going to. I don't really want to hurt her. Now, our original plan will still work. She has no proof of anything."

  "You don't understand. She is very persuasive. You should have heard her today. She convicted the pilot of the Estrella after 440 years."

  "That's interesting, isn't it?" asked Lindsay.

  "What?" said Nate.

  "Both you and Bellisaro had the same motive for murder-your careers."

  "You are such a bitch. Why couldn't you take that message to heart?"

  "St
ubbornness, I suppose."

  "I'll bet you wish you had."

  "Considering how things are right now, yes."

  Lindsay was searching her brain for a plan. She had none. Help was so close-several people were in the house, the National Guard was down the beach, the Coast Guard was patrolling the water, and she might as well be in the middle of nowhere. Each of them took an arm and escorted her out the back door. The moon was waning and there were clouds. It was dark, but not as dark as pitch, not as dark as a cave. But dark. Perhaps she could do something with the dark. Her gaze roved over the area. They were on a wooden walkway that led to the second-floor kitchen. She and Bobbie had carried groceries in that way. There was a parking lot ahead just beyond the shrubbery. To the right was sand and palmettos. To the left were a ten-foot expanse of sand and the alligator pond.

  "You won't be able to get any treasure," said Lindsay. "It will be so well guarded that even Nate can't get to it. I've talked with Lewis and it's all spoken for."

  "That's a little lame," Tom countered.

  "Nate is not an expert in artifacts. He's an excavator and a diver. His academic speciality is geography-that's what his master's is in. There's no reason whatsoever for him to have access to the treasure. If he tries too hard to gain access, Lewis will become suspicious. If any turns up missing, he'll know. Don't think for a minute that it won't be inventoried and Nate won't be a suspect. You can still get out of this."

  "Will you please just do that choke hold thing and shut her up?" said Nate.

  "Nate knows I'm telling the truth. He's stringing you along so you'll do what he wants. But now you know about the murders. That makes you an accessory after the fact."

  "Then I've got nothing to lose by killing you?" Tom rasped at her. He was losing patience. That was a bad sign.

  "Yes, you do. Simply turn him in-then you're not an accessory and not a murderer."

  "I'm also not rich."

  "You're not going to get rich. You can forget that."

  Nate swung his fist to hit Lindsay in the face. She ducked her head, and his fist connected with Tom, knocking him sideways and loosening his grip on her arm. Lindsay bolted. Nate grabbed her and started to swing again. Nate wasn't a fighter. He took a lot of time swinging his arm back to get momentum for his punch. Lindsay kicked him in the groin and he doubled over. Tom rushed for her. She ran. He was about to grab her, she felt his hand on her shirt. She ducked sideways through the railings, sprinted across the ten feet of sand, slipped into the alligator pond, dove under, and swam.

  She came to a clump of vegetation and surfaced just long enough to take a breath and in time to hear Tom call Nate an idiot and tell him to get Robert to help them hunt. She thought about swimming to the front to get Dale. But Dale might not believe her and let Nate drag her off, telling Dale they were taking her to the hospital. Or worse yet, Dale could be in on it with them.

  Where could she get help? The meteorologists? Could she dash past Dale and get to William, or lock herself in Lewis's office and telephone the barge? Or dash up to Harper's room? Could she be fast enough? Would they come after her? Would they kill everyone, or simply run away? She hurt-her ribs, her legs, her arms. She hurt so bad she shook. Her brain was growing dull again from the pain. She surfaced. It was quiet. A flashlight, like a spotlight, swept across the water. She ducked just in time and swam farther into the pond, waiting until she could hold her breath no longer before she surfaced. She heard them. Someone was around in front of the house. Robert? Tom was still sweeping the flashlight back and forth in a search pattern. She heard the splash of a boat and the rhythmic splashing of oars. Nate had put a rowboat into the water, probably the one he used to move the bodies. No doubt he was armed and dangerous-and had a flashlight.

  Think, think, think. The National Guardsmen were just a cDu- ple of miles down the beach. A couple of miles-they may as well have been a hundred. She couldn't make it. Could she? What if she went through the woods?

  She heard the boat and went under the water again, swimming farther into the pond. How big was it? It was fairly deep where she was. Around the front of the house it had come up to John's chest. The marsh was shallow where Harper took a bath after falling in the quicksand. She wished one of them would fall into a pi ` of quicksand.

  She heard the boat coming and saw another light sweeping the water. She ducked the light, hoping the ripples wouldn't give her away. When she had surfaced last, she saw a clump of marsh grass to her left. She swam for it until she felt vegetation, and resurfaced. Perhaps she could just avoid them until daylight. It was more shallow here. Her feet touched the bottom. Her eyes were getting better adjusted to the darkness. She rubbed the water from them. And looked for the light.

  That's when she discovered she was face-to-face with an all igator. It lay in the water not four feet away, its nose and brow ridge above the water. She started shaking so hard, the water quivered. She never thought she would prefer to be back in the ocean in a hurricane. Stay still, don't move. Alligators are active at night. She knew that about them. Please have already eaten. The alligator didn't move, but stared at her, or seemed to. How many more were in here? This was not a good plan.

  She heard the splash, splash, splash of oars in the water. Nate coming for her with a gun. Surely he couldn't hope to get away with killing her? Maybe he would-"saw her leave the house ana followed her. She fell in the water and was attacked by an alligator, meant to shoot him, not her. Sorry." What kind of story would that make? The question was, would Nate think it would make a good story? Yes, he would. He had two witnesses to back him up.

  Splash, splash, splash. He was closer, shining that light. Light was death if it fell on her. Lindsay was afraid to move, close to panic, terrified. Surely the alligator must hear her heart beating, surely Nate must, it was so loud in her ears. It pounded up in her throat, in her ears. Thump, thump, thump, splash, splash, sp,'ash. Nate was almost upon her. The light would hit her in a moment, the alligator would attack, she would die a terrible death. She slowly ducked under the water, trying to make nary a ripple. She felt the boat move over her, felt an oar just miss the top of her head. She came out of the water under the left side of the boat and pushed with all her might, capsizing it. Nate fell into the water, splashed, cursed, yelled, then screamed. She heard running, saw the wiggling beams of the flashlights that Robert and Tom carried.

  Where could she go? She swam away from the commotion, trying to filter out the screams and the enormous splashing of the water, which she knew was the alligator. Suddenly she was hauled out of the water and a hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled.

  "It's me, Mike Altman-and James Choi."

  They pulled her back into the brush, into the sharp palmettos, away from the lights. She heard gunfire and grimaced. Mike led her through the brush and down a narrow trail until she thought she would faint. She saw lights ahead and pulled back.

  "It's all right," said James.

  It was the ranger station. They rushed her up the stairs and into the kitchen.

  "My God, what happened to you?" Lindsay looked up at Tessa.

  Gretchen came into the kitchen. "What was that shooting!"

  "Don't shout," Lindsay whispered. "Lock the doors."

  "What's going on?" asked Tessa.

  "Nate's gone berserk," said Mike, going to all the outside doors and locking them.

  Tessa left the room a moment and came back with a blanket and put it around Lindsay's shoulders.

  Lindsay's teeth chattered and she started shaking uncontrollably.

  "Can we move to the interior of the house?" she asked.

  "Good idea," said Mike, returning from his rounds.

  "What is going on?" asked Gretchen.

  They took her to what appeared to be a den, with no windows. Lindsay briefly explained what had happened.

  "He was trying to kill you?" Gretchen asked. Lindsay nodded.

  "Call the ranger station on Cumberland," Mike told Tessa. Tessa picked up the phone an
d dialed.

  "Thanks," said Lindsay. "You saved my life."

  "You were doing okay," James said.

  "What were you two doing out there?" asked Lindsay. Then she saw that James held a pair of night goggles.

  "I'm observing the night animals-alligators, too. We would have helped sooner, but we couldn't figure out what was go:.ng on.,,

  "I'm sorry about the alligator," said Lindsay.

  "He might make it. They're hard to kill."

  "You killed an alligator?" Gretchen looked incredulous.

  "No, she fed him Nate," said Mike.

  "Please point me to the bathroom," said Lindsay. Tessa showed her the way.

  Lindsay made it to the commode and threw up. When he finally came out, there was a sudden loud knocking at the door.

  "Stay here," Mike said. He opened a closet and got a gun off the top shelf and went to the door.

  "Yes," he yelled through the door.

  "My name's Tom Bowers. I'm looking for one of our archaeologists. She was hurt in the hurricane and suffered a concussion. I'm afraid she may have wandered away."

  "Is it that Chamberlain woman?"

  "Yes, that's her. Is she here?"

  "No, but if she comes, I'll shoot her head off. The bitch cost me my job."

  "If you see her, please give me a call. My name's Tom Bowers."

  "Yeah, sure. What's that shooting I heard? You're not supposed to be shooting on the island."

  "I think that was Miss Chamberlain. She's really in a bad way."

  Mike came back into the room. "I guess you heard that?"

  "I didn't really cost you your job, did I?" asked Lindsay.

  Mike looked at her amoment. "No, I just made that up."

  "Do you think they'll break in?" asked Gretchen.

  "I don't know. What did the rangers say?" he asked Tessa.

  "They're coming. They're calling the National Guard."

  "The National Guard?" said Gretchen, wide-eyed. "Is it that bad? Who are those people?"

  "Gretchen just got back from the mainland," Mike told Lindsey, with a hint of a smile. "The National Guard is here guarding that big ship that washed ashore. Those guys, if my guess is right, are treasure hunters."