“How do you know?” She pressed further.
“I’ve seen more of these than I care to think about, but in the warmer water here in the Caribbean, a body will surface sooner after being submerged than it does in colder water up north. This one looks like two, maybe three days.”
Olivia weighed his insight.
“It’s not her.” This time she was more assertive. Who was he to question her judgment? He didn’t know her mother. Besides the timing was all wrong. Two or three days? That didn’t add up. A wave of relief cascaded through her. Thank God.
The ME glanced to the lieutenant.
Woods spoke up. “Okay, Miss Benning. Sorry to put you through this. Thank you for taking the time. We appreciate it.”
He started for the door and Olivia followed behind, but the coroner wasn’t finished with her just yet.
“Just to be certain, could you leave a DNA sample with us? I’d like to run some tests to verify.”
Annoyed, Olivia agreed but knew it would lead them nowhere. Before she reached the door she turned back. “How did she die?”
The coroner cleared his throat. “I, uh, don’t know yet. I still need to perform an autopsy.”
He hesitated and then shared what could only be seen under the sheet. “Looks like there may be ligature marks on her wrists and ankles . . . that’s all I’ve made a note of so far.”
Olivia nodded, acknowledging her understanding, and then turned and exited the cold room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Climbing behind the wheel of her mother’s Jeep back at the Coast Guard station, Olivia was assaulted by a blast of heat from the tropical sun baking through the windshield. Leaving the door ajar and her leg hanging down, she reached for the ignition. With her hand suspended in mid-air, it hit her she had nowhere to go. She had left Colton’s place that morning, resolving to leave it behind for good, but that novel vow wasn’t going to hold up. Hating the idea of returning, especially when he wasn’t there, she had no choice. Her back was against the wall. Reluctantly, she pointed the Jeep back up the mountain.
Her energy level waned as the events of the day plagued her. After storing her perishables in his refrigerator and stowing the rest in a cupboard, she left the coconut rum on the counter for Colton to find and looked for a corkscrew to open the bottle of wine.
With time to kill before heading back down to the landfill, Olivia counted on a glass of dry white on the gallery to help blur the scene at the morgue. The foul smell lingered inside her nose. Her heart broke for the woman she saw in the metal drawer. She hoped her family would find peace with such a tragedy, but she couldn’t keep herself from rejoicing it wasn’t her mother.
Olivia allowed herself to be drawn out onto the gallery, which was becoming a favorite space of hers. Rays emanating from the setting sun hovering over the horizon were captivating, yet fleeting. It wouldn’t be long before it slipped out of sight. There was something almost magical about it, making her fantasize about what was behind it.
After the beautiful orange orb settled below the distant horizon, Olivia grabbed a bite to eat from what she had purchased and added a splash of wine to her glass. Alone in his quiet house, she paced from room to room, growing fearful of what the evening would bring. Again, she wondered where Jake was. It was little more than a passing thought, yet she yearned for his company.
As her eyelids grew heavy, she had a burning desire to rest. Settling onto the couch in the living area, her head found the armrest and she was soon sound asleep as the waning sunlight turned into evening darkness.
Olivia slept soundly until she was awaked by a strange dream. Disoriented, she squinted her eyes and looked around the room to ascertain where she was. As it all filtered back into her memory, she bolted to her feet, certain she had overslept.
The clock on his stove indicated it was time to head out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As Olivia approached, she noticed it looked different than the night before. A primitive gate made out of metal tubing in the shape of two triangles closed off the entrance. A corner of each triangle overlapped in the center and were secured by a padlock. She had no choice but to ditch the Jeep along the side of the main road and hike in. Taking a moment to consider what she might run up against, she walked around to the back of the vehicle and opened the hatch. After rummaging through the emergency kit, she shoved a couple of flares into her back pockets. They might come in handy.
Fighting off tremendous trepidation, she started down the dirt access road. One foot in front of the other. Camera hanging from her neck.
The moon was not much larger than the previous evening. She hoped she would be able to see what she needed to see and capture it on film, while steering clear of anyone adverse to her photography pursuits.
The air was still, and the only sound was the familiar tree frogs serenading anyone who would listen. Ko-kee, ko-kee. Ordinarily Olivia would enjoy their cadence but not tonight.
The trek down the road was not arduous, it just took more time than she wanted to spend. She was anxious to get into place, under cover and ready to capture whatever was going to transpire down the deserted dirt road. Walking briskly, Olivia listened for vehicles from behind her and any activity in front of her, ready to dive into the bushes along the road to avoid being detected.
Several minutes passed as she made her way in the darkness. The air was still, even the tree frogs had fallen silent. . . . that was, until she got close to where she had staked out a vantage point the night before. There was some sort of activity going on. A completely different atmosphere. Sounded like shouting. Several people yelling. Anxious to get near enough to see what was happening, Olivia picked up her pace until she got as close as she dared and then darted into the brush to maintain her cover, one hand clutching the camera. She pushed her way through the thick bushes and came to a stop where she could see, yet remain hidden.
Olivia stared through the branches. There was a crowd of men. A lot of noise. Shouting. They were standing around in a loosely formed ring. She couldn’t make out what was going on inside the circle. A dog barked in the distance. She pulled her camera toward her face and snapped photos. Sometimes the camera lens saw more than the naked eye, so she just kept going on faith. More dogs barked.
From time to time, she pulled back from the viewfinder to try to understand what was happening. Still, men shouting. Some jumping. Then the din of activity subsided and the ring of men settled back as if anticipating something else. There were a couple of high fives in the crowd. Olivia watched intently, trying to discern the situation.
Again, the shouting swelled. Something was going on in the center of the crowd, as if they were encircling some sort of activity, rooting on the participants. Was there betting going on? On what?
Olivia tried to work her way through the bushes to get a closer look. The crowd was now animated. She grew excruciatingly uncomfortable being as close as she was, but she needed to see.
She could hear dogs. Growling . . . snarling, some crying as if in pain.
It didn’t make sense to her at first. She kept listening and observing the crowd. Then her face fell.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “No . . . please, God, no.”
With eyes wide open, she tried to make out what was happening in the arena, through the crowd. The noise told the story. She winced, feeling sick to her stomach.
“Dear Lord, please make them stop.” Olivia closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see, yet she knew she had to take photos to capture what was going on for proof.
Olivia snapped photos in rapid succession. She was trying not to look, but she needed to capture the vicious act.
The crowd parted momentarily, allowing her a glimpse of the carnage. Dogs. Her mouth became parched and she tried to swallow. There were two black dogs in the center of the crowd. A ring of sorts. The two dogs were being encouraged to fight. Olivia couldn’t make out the breed, mixed or otherwise. They darted quickly toward each other and seem
ed to be responding to the crowd’s negative energy. Chants kept the two animals focused on attacking each other. Other dogs were restrained on the sidelines as if waiting for their turns.
Olivia took a step back, repulsed by the barbarity. Her head swirled. She had heard dog fighting was an issue in the islands, but she was sickened by seeing firsthand the extent to which heartless individuals would go to make money on such a gruesome activity. Unfortunately, gambling on dog fighting could be lucrative, not only for the onlookers who bet on the “game” but also for the “house,” whoever took the risk to host the fights. Even though dog fighting was illegal, it was challenging for authorities to track down. As soon as there was a crackdown, the participants would pull up stakes and find a new location, usually as far off the beaten path as possible.
This was what her mother was intent on documenting and what Olivia needed to capture on her camera. She was stunned her mother had put herself in such extreme danger. And for what? Why was she gathering evidence? Who was she working with?
Olivia refocused on the center ring. The two dogs were viciously attacking each other. Repetitive bites along both of their necks had become bloody. Both exhibited symptoms they were reeling from their injuries.
Would the dogs have to fight to the death? Olivia was afraid she already knew the answer. She turned away as she heard multiple voices from the crowd encouraging them to continue. She couldn’t bear to watch. The sounds emanating from the arena were more than she could stomach. The growling and snarling continued. An occasional yelp caused the crowd to cheer in its twisted sense of entertainment. The canine crying hit her in the gut. She leaned over and lost what little food was in her stomach. Her knees buckled and she landed hard on the ground, sharp pain emanating from her shoulder. Wiping her mouth, she searched for something to grab onto to pull herself up.
As she floundered, something nudged her hand and she yanked it back. At first, she couldn’t tell what had touched her but soon made out a small animal in the dim moonlight. Sensing it wouldn’t hurt her, she spoke to it and it crept slowly toward her. A puppy. It nudged her again. It was dark. Probably black. Olivia was drawn to its innocence, and she immediately felt the need to protect it. Would the precious little pup be forced into the ring to fight another, perhaps larger, dog? She gathered the strength to stand up. Her world spun for a moment, but she waited for it to straighten itself out before moving again.
She reached down to scoop up the puppy but strong hands pulled her away before she could reach it and she landed hard on the ground. There was movement in the bushes behind her. Animated voices grew louder. Her camera was snatched off her neck. A burning sensation was all that was left where the strap had hung. Someone pulled her arms behind her, yanking her upright. She groaned and tried to wriggle her hands out of their grasp, but their grip just tightened. Her shoulder exploded in pain.
“Get off me!” she screamed in desperation. “Get off!”
Olivia fought to get free. She knew her camera was gone but she had to escape. After witnessing their illegal activity and getting caught documenting it, her life depended on it.
The crowd in the distance continued to be wrapped up in the dog fighting and gambling at the expense of the innocent dogs.
Clearly a couple of thugs were going to make sure no one had any proof. They had flashlights. A bright light shown in her face. She winced and pulled away from the source. Their voices had the lyrical island accent. Without warning, there was a powerful arm around her neck, constricting her airways. She had trouble catching her breath. Her head was pushed down from behind. Her mind reeled. A silent prayer went up for help. Olivia vehemently wanted to walk out of there alive. With her face forced downward, she searched the ground to see what she could see in the limited and fleeting light.
Down at her feet, the beams from the flashlights danced. Several feet. More than just the two men she perceived were there. Others had joined the fray. Were they scuffling amongst themselves? A pair of brown leather flip-flops on light-colored feet came into view. Her eyes grew wide. She prayed it wasn’t so. While she tussled with whoever restrained her, she wildly searched the ground to find the flip-flops again. Was the left pinkie toe shorter than usual? Too many feet moving at once to tell.
Again a brown leather flip-flop came back into view. A left foot in the scuffle with her captors. She strained to see if the toe was truncated. The feet danced in and out of the beams of light. She could see a small toe . . . that was cropped. But was it really? She couldn’t be sure. The possibility hit her hard, as if someone had punched her in the stomach and kicked her behind the knees. Olivia struggled to remain on her feet. Her hands were held tightly behind her. She was outnumbered. Was he one of them? Islandese pervaded the frantic chatter.
Two shots rang out, momentarily halting the fray, and the hands holding her tightly abruptly loosened and fell away. Olivia landed awkwardly on the ground with one arm pinned underneath her. Fortunately it wasn’t the one attached to her injured shoulder. In the pale moonlight she could see a couple male bodies lying on the ground not far from her. She scrambled to her feet and dashed through the bushes until she reached the deserted dirt road. There was no point in trying to stay undercover alongside the road. She broke into a run and bolted for her car. She ran for her life. From the bushes she had fled, another gunshot rang out in the night. Trembling, she could only imagine what was going on.
The commotion continued behind her. Loud voices. Did she hear footsteps out on the dirt road? Olivia kept her focus on getting to safety. She tore straight for the main road. Ignoring the ache in her legs and the burning in her lungs, she ran. It seemed as though the access road continued forever. She couldn’t see the end. She kept running. No time to lose.
Finally, Olivia caught sight of the main road ahead of her. Her car wasn’t much farther. She kept running, laboring to take in short puffs of air. Her heart beat rapidly, thumping wildly against the inside of her ribcage. Her feet reached the pavement of Route 30 and she turned right to head east. Her Jeep was just a few yards down.
Dumped impulsively off on the side of the road, it looked like she had been in too much of a hurry to park it properly. No matter.
Pulling the key out of her pocket, pressing the unlock button as she approached, she jumped into the driver’s seat, leaving the door open and her left leg dangling as she melted into the seat and tried to gather herself. Her chest heaved. Figuring she was safe out on the main road, she took a precious moment to regroup. She had placed herself in grave danger and barely escaped. The brown flip-flops flashed through her mind. It didn’t make any sense. How could he be involved in such a horrible activity? What a monster. Had she misjudged him completely? Hurt from betrayal seeped deep inside her heart.
The sound of the gunshots echoed in her head. Was he one of the ones to go down? She honestly didn’t know if she cared.
Headlights approached from the east and the car passed on its way toward Charlotte Amalie. Olivia was glad to see another vehicle on the road. Lights in her rearview mirror announced another car approaching from the opposite direction. It also passed her, more closely than the first since it was on the left side of the road, on its way toward Red Hook.
Once she caught her breath, Olivia’s sense of urgency returned. She was not out of danger yet. Unsure which way to turn, she figured anywhere was better than Landfill Road.
As she reached for the ignition key, something brushed up against her calf. Instinctively, she yelled and pulled her leg inside. Looking down to see what had touched her, she could just make out the pup from the bushes. Happy to see him, a flood of warmth spread throughout her body. His little legs had carried him away from the terror and trauma in the landfill, and he was searching her eyes to see if she would take him with her. Leaning over to scoop him up, she winced as pain shot through her shoulder. She pulled him in close to her chest and he whimpered softly, melting her heart. Undoubtedly he had been through a lot in his short life.
An
other car approached in front of her. Olivia didn’t pay much attention to it. She snuggled the puppy close to her face and stroked his back. The acrid smell of his fur made her nose curl up, but she knew it was temporary and the result of the conditions he’d had to endure. She hugged him anyway. Never wanting to let him go, she buried her face in his fur, yearning to bring him back to Boston with her. The side of her mouth turned up in amusement as she pictured how furious she would make her father.
The car passed the Jeep as the others had done, but when Olivia glanced into her rearview mirror, she noticed it was making a U-turn in the middle of the road behind her. She knew that couldn’t be good. Gently placing the pup on the passenger seat beside her, she reached for the key and started up the engine. It looked as though things were going to get even more interesting.
Before she could put her car in drive, flashing lights appeared in her mirrors.
“Shit!” A patrol car pulled in behind her. She had a decision to make. Hang around to see how much more trouble she could get into or hit the gas and make a run for it. She shut the driver’s side door while she took a split second to think.
Then she realized she didn’t have much of a choice. Where was she going to run? She was on an island and it wasn’t that big. And the roads weren’t exactly conducive to a high-speed chase. She chose to stay put and see why the officer had stopped. She surmised it could just be routine. After all, her vehicle was pulled haphazardly off the side of the road. More likely, they had located a wanted woman and she wouldn’t be going very far. Reluctantly, she turned the key to shut off the engine.
Olivia watched in her mirror as a uniformed officer exited his car and approached hers from behind. His broad shoulders swayed in the same cadence as the strides of his long legs, his flashlight swung in rhythm. Lights on top of his patrol car continued to pulse behind him. She blinked her eyes to get relief from the bright lights.
The Empty Chair ~ Murder in the Caribbean Page 19