Bluewater Stalker: The Sixth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 6)

by Charles Dougherty

  Out of curiosity, he brought up Fitzgerald's blog, but there was no new information there. He looked at his watch, calculating he had between five and seven hours before they arrived. They were expecting to stay here for a few days according to the blog. He considered how he might use the time. He had a specific objective in mind, again not involving killing anyone. He was glad of that as he recalled strolling through town.

  There was no anonymity here, at least not for a stranger with white skin. The water taxi driver had explained that almost all the tourists who visited Portsmouth were aboard boats, and there was a group of businesses structured to show them around. Given the attention he had attracted just walking through town to this bar, he thought it would be hard to do anything unnoticed by one of the local people, and then there were the patrols through the anchorage.

  Everyone he had passed on his walk had stopped to visit -- not just a casual "Good morning," either. Most had introduced themselves, expecting him to do the same, and they had passed a minute or two in making him welcome. Each time, he had given them the same name, one he used often, so that he would respond if one of the people used it later on, but not the name he had used to enter the country.

  After she had chatted with him for a few minutes, one middle-aged woman had offered to cook him a local feast at her house for dinner that evening. "I would ask you to contribute a little bit, whatever you think is fair," she had said, apologetically, explaining that this was her business as well as her pleasure. "It's one of my jobs, you see. It helps feed the family, but also it's a great pleasure and an honor for us to share a meal with you."

  He had declined politely, feeling a vague sense of guilt at doing so.

  He had never operated in a place like this before; he was on high alert. Although it was risky, it was the right spot geographically for the next evolution of his game, so he would go forward with his plan. What he needed to do would be done on the boats, out of sight of the curious people ashore; he only had to worry about the volunteer security patrols, and he could figure out their routine over the next 24 hours.

  He was glad he had changed his mode of travel. The decision was driven by other requirements, but it was fortuitous. He would need the extra privacy from here on.

  ****

  Dani and Liz had been awakened by the change in sea state as Vengeance approached Scott's Head. Climbing into the cockpit, they found a subdued-looking Bill at the helm, and Jane had resumed her spot on the bowsprit at some time during their absence.

  "Thanks for taking the watch," Dani said as she stepped behind the helm. "Anything exciting happen?"

  "No, not really," Bill mumbled as he stepped aside. "I'm going below and stretch out for a while."

  Dani glanced at Liz and noticed her wrinkled brow as she watched him go down into the main cabin. She sat down close beside Dani. "Pretty grumpy, for him," she said, under her breath.

  "No kidding. I'm used to him not wanting to give up the helm."

  Liz nodded. "Guess maybe the stress of the last few days is catching up with him. This can't be much of a vacation for them, you know?"

  "You're right about that. You'd better go give Jane a shirt; look at those shoulders. She won't sleep tonight."

  "What a sunburn," Liz remarked as she saw Jane's back. "And she's usually so careful."

  "Bet we're in the middle of an argument," Dani said.

  "I hope not; there's nowhere to hide. I'm going to grab one of Phillip's old dress shirts from the wet locker."

  Dani nodded as Liz got up. They kept the soft, well-worn Pima cotton shirts to wear for sun protection when working on deck. Sunscreen lotion was worthless for an active person with wet skin.

  Liz reappeared in a moment and stepped out of the cockpit, fluffing the shirt as she edged her way forward. The motion of the boat was growing progressively more erratic as they got into the confused seas that were typical off Scott's Head. The waves were amplified by the undersea mountains and the wind gusted up to 35 or 40 knots as it rolled down the steep side of the headland. As she approached Jane, a big wave broke over the bow, drenching both of them. Jane didn't appear to notice.

  "Jane? You okay?"

  Jane turned, looking at Liz over a fiery red shoulder. Liz noticed her puffy eyes and the salt crystals crusted on her chapped, sunburned face.

  "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up and get some aloe on that skin, lady."

  Jane nodded absently, grasping the bow rails on either side and pulling her legs up, assuming a squatting position. "There's s-something up h-here that wasn't here b-before," she said, pointing down between the chain rollers for the two anchors.

  "Okay. I'll check it out in a minute." Liz wrapped the shirt around Jane's shoulders. "You're freezing. Must be fever from the sunburn and a chill from being soaking wet in all this wind. Come on." She kept an arm around Jane's shoulders as they shuffled back along the bouncing deck. As Liz started to help her below, Jane put a hand on each side of the companionway opening and shook her head. "No," she muttered. "I want to stay up here with you."

  "Okay." Liz helped her to sit down on the downwind cockpit seat. "I think you're on the edge of hypothermia," Liz said, noticing the involuntary tremors shaking Jane's body.

  Dani reached behind her back and passed Liz the cockpit shower hose. "There should still be plenty of hot water. Just rinse off where you are; it'll help warm you up. Liz can get you a big beach towel."

  Jane reached for the shower handle and fumbled it, her fingers refusing to obey her brain's signals. As Liz picked it up again, Dani engaged the autopilot. "You help her get rinsed off; I'll go get a couple of towels."

  "Bring the aloe lotion, too," Liz said, adjusting the temperature of the spray.

  Ten minutes later, Jane was in much better shape physically, but she still had a thousand-yard stare as she sat bundled in two big, fluffy beach towels. Finally, she looked at Liz and gave her a twisted, sad smile. "Thanks. Sorry I wimped out."

  "Don't worry about it. People don't realize you can get chilled like that in the tropics. You feeling better?"

  Jane nodded, thinking for a moment. "Did I ask you about that thing on the bowsprit?"

  "You said there was something different up there. I forgot about it."

  "It's a little gray box, peeking out between the anchor chains. I never noticed it before."

  "Take the helm, Liz," Dani said. "I'll go see what it is."

  She worked her way forward, noticing the sea state was already improving as they got farther in behind the island. Any minute now, they would lose the wind, she thought, as she stepped out on the bowsprit and looked down for a couple of seconds. She returned to the cockpit and sat down across from Jane. "It's a satellite tracking device."

  "What's that?"

  "They're used for all kinds of things. A lot of people put them on boats so family and friends can keep up with where they are; they're cheap and easy to come by. Work really well, too. You just log onto a website and key in the code for the particular unit you're looking for, and you get a series of position plots on a map."

  "You think …" Jane's voice trailed off.

  "I'm sure our visitor the other night left it for us."

  "Should we toss it?" Liz asked.

  "It's not telling him anything he can't get from the blog, except for our precise track. I think we should leave it for now. We can always attach it to a goat, or stick it on somebody else's boat that's headed in the opposite direction if we want to lay a false trail later."

  Chapter 22

  They were becalmed shortly after they passed Scott's Head; the steep mountains blocked the wind. They started the engine and engaged the autopilot, their sailing over for the day. The island protected them from the ocean swell, and the water looked as smooth as molten sapphire, with barely a ripple on the surface and a deep, translucent blue color that drew the eye ever deeper until blue deepened to black. Dani sat behind the helm. Jane, though still huddled in her beach towels, was substantially recovered.
Of Bill, there was no sign.

  Liz went below to put on water for tea, thinking Jane needed fluids as well as warmth; her lips still looked a bit blue. As she worked in the galley, she wondered about Jane and Bill. He was in their aft stateroom with the door closed; Liz could hear strains of classical violin music through the door, but she could not identify the piece over the rumble of the engine. She considered offering him something to drink and then thought better of it; he obviously didn't want company. She took some tuna steaks from the freezer and set them in the sink to thaw, thinking as she did that dinner might be awkward. A 60-foot-long yacht could seem awfully small when two of the people aboard weren't getting along.

  She and Dani had been lucky with their guests. Some were sociable; some were less so, and they'd had a few difficult people aboard, but even the worst had mellowed after a few days' exposure to the magic of sailing through paradise. It began to look as if the Fitzgeralds were headed in the opposite direction, not that they didn't have reason, with this killer following in their wake.

  She spooned loose tea into an infuser as the kettle of water came to a boil. She set the infuser aside and poured a little of the water into a crockery teapot, swirling it around to take the chill off the heavy ceramic vessel. As she felt the warmth spread through the teapot, she emptied it and filled it again from the boiling kettle, dropping the infuser in as she adjusted the lid to hold the infuser's chain. She set the pot on a tray and took some lemon slices out of a plastic container she kept in the refrigerator, arranging them on a saucer.

  As an afterthought, she warmed a tiny pitcher and opened a small box of UHT milk, pouring some into the little pitcher; she didn't know how Jane took her tea. She put the sugar bowl and three teaspoons on the tray and warmed three heavy mugs with the rest of the water from the kettle. She could hear Dani and Jane begin conversing as she picked up the tray. The sudden increase in the volume of the violin music indicated that Bill could hear them, too, and didn't want the distraction. She stepped onto the ladder and picked up the tray, turning to reach through the companionway and put the tray on the bridge deck.

  She climbed into the cockpit and sat down across from Jane. Setting up the cockpit table, she lifted the tray, putting it in the center. "The tea's probably ready, unless you like it really strong."

  "I'm sure it will be fine, Liz. Thanks, you're sweet to take such good care of me."

  "It's all part of the package; I'm happy to do whatever I can." Liz poured tea into one of the mugs and passed it across the table to Jane, who sat up and shrugged the towel back from her shoulders a bit.

  "I'll let it steep a little longer," Dani said. "I need a jolt. I can't seem to shake off that long nap."

  "Speaking of naps," Jane said, stirring sugar into her mug, "Is Bill asleep?"

  "I don't think so. The door's closed, but I could hear music, and he turned up the volume when you two started talking."

  Jane took a sip of tea, returning her mug to the table. "He's upset; it's my fault."

  "You don't need to …"

  "I could use your understanding right now. You've both been wonderful to put up with us bringing this, this, ah …"

  "The stalker or killer or whatever he is — that's certainly not your fault," Dani said. "Or Bill's. You don't need me to tell you it's the fault of whatever sick bastard's decided to wreck your holiday."

  Liz caught Dani's eye and gave a slight shake of her head. "You and Bill are both a pleasure to have aboard; we're glad you're here."

  "Thanks, you two. That means a lot. Don't worry; I'm not going to drag you into our quarrel, and neither will Bill. That's not the way we are. It's just that, living together in such a small space, and with the added stress of the 'stalker,' as you put it, I think it's best to just acknowledge that Bill and I are going through a rough patch. I'm hoping we'll sort it out quickly, but I don't want you to feel like you're walking on eggshells around us, and neither would Bill. That's all I wanted to say."

  "Thanks," Liz said. "That's most considerate of you; we'll do our best not to make things any more awkward. Just let us know if you need privacy; we can be nearly invisible."

  Jane nodded and finished her tea. Standing up, she wrapped the towel around her torso and tucked in the end. "I'd better go start making peace."

  ****

  Vengeance was about an hour from Portsmouth; Dani and Liz had passed the time in the cockpit, talking softly. The sounds of classical recordings had continued from below, barely audible, and there had been no sign of either of the Fitzgeralds.

  "You know, whatever's wrong between them, she really handled that well with us," Liz had remarked shortly after Jane went below.

  "She's a professional counselor; guess she knows what she's doing."

  "Well, I'm sure she does, but still, to have the composure and consideration to talk to us the way she did when it looks like her life is coming apart — that's pretty amazing."

  "She needs a neutral environment if she's going to be able to sort things out with him; she just kind of helped us figure out that the best thing we could do was give them some time," Dani said.

  Liz smiled. "As hot-tempered and manipulative as you are, you have remarkable insight sometimes."

  "Careful who you call hot-tempered and manipulative," Dani said with a theatrical scowl.

  Liz laughed. "Sorry. What do you think I should do about dinner? I put some of that tuna Sandrine gave us out to thaw."

  "Sounds fine to me."

  "Peas and rice and a salad?"

  "Sure. How long will that take you?"

  "Thirty minutes or so. It's almost five. Should I shoot for dinner after we anchor? That'll be a little late, won't it?"

  "Well, I think that's probably better than going down there now and rattling around."

  "They're still in their cabin; nobody's yelling."

  "Doesn't mean the war's over. Given the way Jane handled things with us, I'd leave it with her. Don't start dinner until they open that door. You don't want to interrupt at some critical point, just to offer food."

  "We've got to eat, though."

  "Ah! You're getting hungry. That it?"

  "No, but by the time we're anchored, you and I will both be starving."

  "Then we'll just go ashore and get a fried fish dinner and a couple of Kubulis at Big Daddy's. You know Sharktooth's going to come roaring up when we get in sight of Portsmouth. He'll give us a lift ashore."

  "And just leave them aboard?"

  "Yes. If they get hungry, they'll let you know, Mom."

  Liz gave Dani a sharp punch on the shoulder. "Don't call me Mom!"

  "Don't punch me unless you mean it."

  In reply, Liz assumed a fighting stance on the bridge deck as Dani engaged the autopilot, grinning in anticipation.

  "Ready to work off some stress?"

  "If you think you can handle it," Liz said.

  "Remember who taught you everything you know about close combat," Dani said, faking a kick as she shuffled toward Liz.

  "You only taught me everything you know; I learned the rest myself." Liz kept her eyes focused on the center of Dani's chest to avoid being drawn in by Dani's feints.

  They were bobbing and weaving, kicking and punching, managing to maintain their footing in spite of the boat's motion. Dani crouched and swept up a plastic tube of sunscreen in her right hand. "Knife," she said as she rushed Liz.

  Liz nodded her understanding and twisted her torso enough to evade Dani's thrust, capturing the wrist and elbow of her right arm as Dani extended it in a lightning–fast follow-through. Liz raised the wrist, twisting it as she locked Dani's elbow, forcing Dani to her knees as the faux knife dropped to the deck. Dani followed Liz's lead, spinning around to ease the pressure on her right arm and faking a vicious strike to the side of Liz's left knee with her left elbow, pulling her punch as her elbow touched Liz's knee.

  "Draw?" Liz asked.

  "Draw," Dani agreed, "but I would have broken your leg."

  "
Not before I broke your arm."

  Jane stood on the companionway ladder, watching, as Bill looked over her shoulder, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

  "Okay, behave, girls, before somebody gets hurt. You were both amazing. Now kiss and make up," Jane said.

  "She started it!"

  "Did not!"

  "She hit me!"

  "She called me a name!"

  By now, everyone was laughing. Jane and Bill came into the cockpit and sat down side-by-side, holding hands, although Bill looked a bit drained.

  "How about a round of ice-cold passion fruit juice?" Liz asked, stepping toward the companionway.

  "Sure," Bill said.

  "Are we there yet?" Jane asked.

  "Nearly," Dani said, sliding back behind the helm and turning off the autopilot as Liz went below. "We have to round that next point, and then it's a couple of miles. It'll just be getting dark when we drop the anchor."

  Liz returned with four glasses of juice on a tray and passed them around.

  "Cheers!" Bill said, raising his glass. "To the yachting life."

  "Cheers," the others said, clicking their glasses.

  "You two looked like you knew what you were doing with those moves," Bill said. "You do some kind of martial arts?"

  Dani shrugged. "There's not much art to it."

  "She's the sensei," Liz said with a smile. "I'm just her humble student. She's a ninth degree black belt or something."

  "What form, or style, or whatever the right word is?" Bill asked, watching Dani squirm.

  "She's making that up. Let's just say I learned to take care of myself when I was growing up."

  "So where'd you study?"

  "Different places," Dani mumbled.

  "Mostly barrooms, I think, although I've heard she took lessons in a few pool halls and riots, maybe even a gunfight or two in some godforsaken jungle with Phillip."