by Janine Marie
Standing in the small square wood-paneled hallway, we looked around. There were two guest cabins, a laundry and storage room, and then a hallway leading to the bow where Lorenzo’s office was located. All the doors were open and the rooms looked empty. I turned and started to walk toward Lorenzo’s office in the bow when Trent gently grabbed my shoulder and pointed to the opposite direction, to the stern. We had a silent exchange, and then I shrugged and followed him through a hidden doorway—one I would never have seen, clearly Trent knew this yacht better than I did—then down a narrow passageway to the stern where the large engine room was located.
Trent carefully opened the door and we peeked around it into the dark room. Slowly, I reached around and pushed the light switch on, illuminating a narrow corridor between twin CAT C32 ACERT diesel engines. Seeing nothing unusual, I pushed the light off. We were stepping back out the door when we heard rustling and a muffled sound like “Mmahhmgh.” Turning the light on again we ventured into to the room, quietly calling, “Catherine? Are you there?”
Suddenly I felt a shove from behind and I stumbled headlong into Trent, pushing him into the room and hard against the port engine. “What! Ouch!” exclaimed Trent.
“Couldn’t you two just leave well enough alone?” came a gruff voice from behind us. Then the lights went out and we heard the door lock.
“Trent, stand still,” I whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked. “They know we are here.”
“I don’t know—because it’s so dark, I guess,” I replied still whispering.
“Can you find the lights?”
“Yes, I think so. Here, hold the bag so I don’t trip on it,” I said, pushing the bag in the direction of his voice.
“Ouch, that’s my head.”
“Sorry.” I turned with my arms out stretched and started to slowly feel my way around.
“Wrong way—you almost stuck your finger in my eye,” Trent said as I turned around.
I eventually found the door, then the light switch. I have no idea how long it took but it seemed to take hours in the pitch black.
“Thank God,” Trent exclaimed, as the lights came on and we tried the door.
“It’s locked, of course,” I replied, frustrated. “Let’s look around, maybe we can find something to help us get out of here.”
Trent headed down the short narrow corridor between the engines as I started to look through the compact workbench and toolbox.
“Janeva… remember that sound we heard?”
“Sure,” I replied, turning and holding up a tool that looked like it might be useful. “Trent—what’s wrong?!” His face was completely white.
“You had better come and see.”
Still holding the tool that looked like a big pipe wrench and made me feel safer, I walked toward him.
What I saw made me drop the wrench as both hands went to my mouth to suppress a scream. Catherine was naked and covered in blood, she was gagged and her hands and feet bound with zip ties. How we could have missed her when we first looked in the room was incredible, though it was true that she was curled up in the fetal position in the corner, behind the Genset. But we had almost left her there.
“Is she alive?” I whispered.
Trent reached over to feel her wrist, then he took off her gag “Yes, barely.”
“Let’s untie her; we have to get out of here,” I said.
“Easier said than done. We need scissors or a knife to cut the zip ties,” Trent said.
“Scissors… no, I didn’t see any of those but I did see a box cutter that should work.”
“Now what?” Trent asked me after we had freed Catherine. She was breathing better but was still unconscious. We had torn strips from our clothing to wrap the deep cuts all over her body and slow the bleeding. And I’d wrapped her as best I could in my sweatshirt and some boat rags I had found when I found the pipe wrench, since we needed to keep her warm. “We are still locked in.”
“Do you think John did this, or was it the crew?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure I saw the crew getting into a taxi cab. John and Catherine were already on the boat.”
“The whole crew, the same three crew members who were with them in Canada?”
“I think so, but I don’t know. Who really looks at staff anyway?”
“It’s important Trent. Remember the two who disappeared in Canada? Were they on the boat? How could they have escaped the RCMP? And come back to finish the job, to finish what they started in Canada when they killed Lorenzo?” I said angrily.
“Sorry. Janeva, I’m pretty sure it was the same three who had been with them in Canada. I really don’t know how they slipped past the RCMP—and Customs. You were there, too…. It’s not like the Canadian authorities took it lightly. There had to be 20 officers crawling around, plus the Coast Guard scuba divers.”
“You’re right…. Are you sure that ALL the crew got in the taxi?” I replied with a sigh.
“No, but none of them went back down the dock. I’m sure of that.”
“How?” I demanded.
“I had to talk to John about the goddamn shoe or Wiffy would kill me, so when John and Catherine went down the dock I ordered a drink and sat at the window and watched everyone who went up or down the ramp. I saw the crew leave, then a while later I saw John come up the ramp and go to his car and return with a bag.” Seeing my raised eyebrows, he added, “I didn’t know it was Wiffy’s bag. I was too far away to see the monogram.”
I couldn’t argue with that; the monogram was hard to see even close up. I motioned for him to continue.
“So, seeing my chance, I tried to intercept him on the dock but”—here he looked down at his rounded form and patted his girth—“I wasn’t fast enough, so I followed him to the boat.”
“What is in that bag, anyway?” I asked.
“Shoes, I hope.”
We bent down and unzipped it.
“Looks like nothing but clothes,” Trent grumbled. “Still, why did he have Wiffy’s bag? Was he having an affair with her, too?! That BASTARD, slimy asshole, F…” the tirade continued. I was astonished to imagined Wiffy, that mousy women who never spoke and seemed to live in the shadows, not only had Trent terrified of her but was sleeping with John!
“We might as well see if there is anything useful in here,” I said as I pulled a T- shirt and sweater out of the bag and rolled them up to make a pillow for Catherine’s head. Pulling more clothes out I remarked “This is strange. All these clothes are old. And where are the toiletries, deodorant, and shaving stuff?”
“Maybe he planned on using Lorenzo’s. It does appear he planned on taking over Lorenzo’s life, his yacht, and wife,” Trent said as he helped me pull more clothing out of the bag and drape it over Catherine to help keep her warm.
“Look at this.” From the zipper compartment on the side of the bag, I pulled out a white shoe—the twin of one I had seen before. “Is this one of the shoes you are looking for?”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Janeva, Janeva!”
Thomas’s insisted I add his part of the story here
Thomas, returning to the boat, found Greg, who had just arrived from Geranium Island and was keen to tell Thomas about the sweet dark-blue Hinckley T38R convertible that had taken our spot when we left the island. Listening, Thomas loaded up the bags and food cooler from our boat cockpit and into the wheelbarrow, then headed back up the dock, all the time drilling Greg for details about the Hinckley. After loading the bags in the car they headed back down to Greg and Steph’s boat.
“Where is Janeva?” Thomas asked Steph as he entered the cabin of Write-Now, Greg and Steph’s cabin cruiser.
“Haven’t seen her. If I had to guess I’d say she is still happily bleaching the inside of your boat,” joked Steph about Janeva’s love of spray bleach to clean.
“Text or call her to come and join us. There’s no need to run home—Katie’s at a play date, right?” Greg said.
“Greg… it’s a study group!” scolded Steph in good humor. “She is too old for play dates now.”
“Strange, she’s not answering,” Thomas said, looking with mild surprised at his phone. “I wonder if her phone ran out of batteries. She loves texting and normally replies instantly.”
“You boys stay here and drink your beer. I’ll just walk down to your boat and get her,” Steph said, leaving the boat and heading down the dock.
~~~~~~~~~~
Returning a short while later and looking concerned, Steph said, “Thomas, she’s not on your boat but her phone and purse are, and yes, before you ask, her phone is on, and no, your text hadn’t been picked up.”
Greg looking carefully at his wife. “Why the concerned look and tone, Hon? I’m sure she just went looking for Thomas, and is probably wandering around the clubhouse.”
“I’m sure you’re right…. It’s just that she left the Clorox bleach spray, gloves and washcloth out on the counter. It looks like she was partway through cleaning when something caught her attention.”
Laughing, Thomas replied, “That wouldn’t be the first time—she’s easily distracted—but let’s go find her anyway; I’m getting hungry.”
After checking the docks, parking lot, and the clubhouse, the three stood at the railing of the clubhouse deck looking out over the marina.
“Where could she be?” asked Steph.
“The Atlantis?” replied Thomas.
“Really? Why?” Greg asked, squinting into the setting sun and looking at the Atlantis.
“We got a call from Tiffany on our way over here. Apparently John’s wife, Stella, jumped, fell, or was pushed out in front of a commuter train. The hospital staff are looking for John.”
“Is she okay?” Steph asked.
Shaking his head, Thomas replied, “Don’t know. Tiff said she was confused and disoriented. Humph, the hospital probably just needs to know her insurance coverage details.”
“So you think the rumors of John and Catherine having an affair are true, and Janeva went to confront him? That would be highly entertaining and something I would like to witness,” laughed Steph.
Thomas and Greg both laughed also at the vision of Janeva scolding John like he was a child.
“It’s good to have the Atlantis back in the marina, the marina seemed empty without her,” mused Greg, changing the subject. “They must have caught up with and arrested the missing crew for Lorenzo’s murder…. I guess we will never know why they did it,” he continued.
Thomas looked up at Greg with a start. “I didn’t tell you; I started to tell Janeva…”
“What didn’t you tell us?” Greg asked.
“The Canadian police, the RCMP, have called me a several times in the last few weeks.”
“Me too! Questions and more questions, as if I didn’t tell them everything I knew the first time,” Greg agreed.
“They found the two missing crew members and they have been cleared of any wrongdoing. They are foolish, yes, but murders, no. Apparently the first mate, Carl, wanted to propose marriage to his girlfriend, Sandy… remember, she was the housekeeper on the Atlantis. He had this notion that it would be romantic to hike up to the falls and ask her with the falls in the background. They left early that morning, sure that they would be back on the yacht doing their respective jobs well before anyone was up.”
Greg and Steph nodded. Then Greg said, “Okay, so what happened to them? We were there all day and they didn’t return.”
Thomas continued, “You are correct, of course. What the two hadn’t counted on was the mud. The heavy rain from the day and night before had made the trail treacherous. Sandy slipped and fell, sliding back down the trail.”
“Oh dear, did she hurt herself?” Steph asked, concerned.
“Yes,” Thomas continued. “Actually she is very lucky to be alive…. She slid in the mud down an embankment directly toward the falls. Fortunately she got caught up on an outcrop of rock right at the very edge of the falls: she had snagged her shirt on a shrub branch… amazingly lucky for her, a one-in-a-thousand chance. Incredibly, the snag slowed her down enough and so she was able to grab onto a tree just inches from the cliff edge of the falls. Balancing unsteadily on the rock outcrop, she hung on for dear life. Moving ever so slowly and carefully, she eventually managed to get her body wrapped around the tree at her waist, all the time looking down over the cliff, only inches away, at the 100-foot drop. Carl, her boyfriend, was frantic to help her. Now this is where it gets interesting. As she was clawing at the tree, inching her body around it, she lost one of her shoes. The shoe then tumbled down the falls, was caught on the current, and it floated to the dock, where Katie ultimately found it.”
“The same shoe we dismantled yesterday on Geranium Island?” Steph put in.
“Yes, the same one, though at the time we didn’t realize the importance of the shoe because our boats hadn’t been searched, nor had we dismantled the shoe to find the computer chip.”
“That makes sense, but how come Carl didn’t run down the trail to get help?” Greg asked.
“I asked the police officer the same question…. Apparently as he was trying to crawl down to help her, he also slipped and broke his ankle! Can you believe it?”
“No, well yes,… I can imagine how slippery that trail was. It was a hard, steep climb in places when we climbed it, and that was when it was dry, since the weeks before had been hot and sunny with no rain,” Greg commented.
“Didn’t it start to rain again during the day?” Steph asked
“You’re right. We didn’t know it, but the Coast Guard had sent a couple of experienced climbers to look for them as soon as it became clear that the two crew members were missing. I understand that it’s not the first time they have had to rescue someone from the falls,” Thomas continued.
“So they were okay?” Steph asked.
“Exhausted, cold, hungry, and dehydrated, with many bruises, sprains, and a fracture, but fortunately they didn’t get hypothermia. All things considered, they are very lucky.”
“So if they didn’t murder Lorenzo, then who did?” asked Greg.
Thomas suddenly looked stricken as realization dawned on him “Oh, God,” he groaned. “What has she got herself into now? We’ve got to get over to the Atlantis and make sure Janeva is okay!”
“Thomas! What are you talking about?!” demanded Steph “Why would Janeva need our help on the Atlantis?”
Thomas didn’t answer her but instead turned away from the balcony railing they had been leaning on and started hustled through the clubhouse.
“Oh dear, that means it has to be a Yacht Club member… one of us!” cried Steph.
“To quote Janeva’s favorites quote by Sherlock Homes “‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ Since Janeva and the three of us fall into the impossible category, that leaves Catherine, John, Stella, Trent, and Wiffy. And we know at least two of those four are on the Atlantis with Janeva,” Thomas said over his shoulder as he hurried down the stairs as quickly as was allowed in the “No running” clubhouse.
Panting to keep up with his speed-walking pace, Steph said, “Oh dear… make that three: I saw Trent following John to the Atlantis when I was putting out the fenders as we were pulling into the marina. I think we can eliminate Wiffy, she is so meek and timid, and Stella is in hospital.”
“Steph! Quit analyzing and hurry up,” Greg called back to his wife, as he and Thomas started running down the dock to the Atlantis.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Where is it?”
“Where is the shoe?” Wiffy demanded of John. They were standing in the galley of the Atlantis.
“I don’t get it…. I made the switch on the Atlantis when we were in Princess Louisa.”
“You screwed it up and I ended up with my shoes, not Stella’s.”
“Oh, that’s why you wanted me to bring a bag down with some clothes and the shoe.”
/> “Bingo! So where is the bag?”
“I left it on the dock, right where you told me to.”
“Well it’s not there now!”
“They must have taken it.”
“Get down to the engine room and check!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Someone is at the door,” I said, nudging Trent.
Slowly the door opened, shining in a thin light from the hallway at Trent and me sitting on the floor with the emptied bag open in front of us.
As we sat watching, the door slowly opening, the black muzzle of a gun was the first thing we saw. Then with a bang the door was flung fully opened to reveal Wiffy holding the gun, which she quickly pointed directly at Trent and me. We sat starring at her in stunned silence.
“That shoe! Give it to me now!” Wiffy yelled.
“Why?” I asked clutching the shoe tighter to my chest.
“None of your concern, just give it to me now or…”
“Or?” I said, looking at the gun. “It’s not looking too great for us as it is. How much worse can it get?”
Trent elbowed me in the ribs and said, sotto voce, “Shut up!”
“You should listen to him…. He knows what he is talking about. Now hand over that shoe,” growled Wiffy.
“If you want the shoe, come and get it,” I replied, thinking that Trent and I might have a chance to overpower her.
I was still shocked at the change in Wiffy. She seemed to have grown taller and her eyes now glared at me dark, black and hard. Thinking about it I realized I had never even seen her eyes before; they were always been shyly downcast. But what was even more surprising was Trent’s response. He was actually hiding behind me, trembling. “Give her the shoe, Janeva,” he whispered urgently.
“NO,” I hissed back. “She will kill us.”
“Janeva, he knows me well, very, well, you should listen to him,” said a calm and amused Wiffy.
“Would you really hurt Trent? He is your husband after all,” I replied.
“True, but he is not a very good one; I’m afraid I chose poorly. Now be a good girl and hand over that shoe.”