Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue

by Marty Ambrose

  ccWnda Sue, try to stay calm” Not sure how to help, I patted her arm.

  “If anything happens to that boy, I don’t know what I’ll do. He’s my only grandson and just the sweetest little guy you’d ever imagine.” She shook her head, swiping at the tears with a white cotton handkerchief. “He’s never given his family a day’s trouble in his whole life, and now this….”

  “Did you call Nick Billie?” I refrained from mentioning what I’d heard about Kevin’s alleged petty crimes. Now wasn’t the time. Besides, my info was only a rumor passed on by a sullen, jump-rope-hating kid with an even more sullen, rude father. It was always possible that Kevin might, in fact, be the golden boy Wanda Sue thought he was.

  “Nick is on his way to the Trade Winds Marina right now. I know he can handle things, but it’s gonna be dark soon, and I’m just plumb half out of my mind with worry for my grandson.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Could you drive me to the marina? I don’t think I could get behind the wheel right now, and I need to hear Kevin’s voice.”

  “Sure. Let me give Kong a nanosecond walk, and I’ll be ready to roll” Kong’s little bladder would burst if I didn’t attend to him.

  “Thanks, Mallie.” Wanda Sue dabbed at her eyes again, mascara coming off in big clumps. “I’m just a basket case right now”

  I grabbed Kong’s leash and shuttled him to the areca palm across from my RV site. He merely sniffed the tree. “Come on, Kong. This is your favorite spot. Do something. Quick.”

  He looked up at me. Nothing happened.

  “All right, have it your way. But I’m going to put you in the truck, so we can finish this later.” I scooped him up in my arms and strode toward Rusty. “Wanda Sue, you’re going to have to hold Kong”

  “Why, sure, honey”

  I deposited him in Wanda Sue’s arms. He started to whine, but I silenced him with a stern look.

  In a few minutes all three of us were speeding down Cypress Road, heading for the marina. “Did Kevin say anything about his dad’s disappearance?”

  “Not really. They told me he sounded so scared, he didn’t seem to know what he was saying.” Her voice quavered. “He just wants to come home.”

  “Don’t worry-he will.”

  “I hope so” Fear laced her voice.

  “If there’s one person I’d trust to bring him home safely, it’s Nick Billie. He won’t rest till he’s made sure that Kevin is all right.”

  “I know that. It’s just so … so hard to imagine my grandson out there in the Gulf all by his lonesome. He’s only ten years old. Barely old enough to bait his own fishing pole”

  “But he figured out how to work the radio, so he’s not completely helpless,” I pointed out.

  Wanda Sue contemplated that for a few moments, nuzzling the top of Kong’s head. “You’re right. He’s a smart boy. He won’t do anything foolish.”

  I reached over and squeezed her hand. We drove the rest of the way in silence, except for the sound of Kong’s staccato breathing. For a tiny dust mop, he could vie with his larger canine brothers when it came to heavy breathing.

  At the island center, we turned onto Coral Island Road-the lone exit that led off the island-and headed for Paradisio, where the Trade Winds Marina was located. A fishing village that separated the island from the mainland, Paradisio wasn’t much more than a smattering of bait shops, T-shirt/flip-flop stores, and fresh fish markets.

  As we pulled up to the marina, I pointed at the black Ford F-150. “There’s Detective Billie’s truck”

  We climbed out of Rusty and headed for the main office. She passed Kong to me as if he were a football and I was headed for a touchdown. Kong tucked his head under my armpit, and I charged forward with Wanda Sue.

  She flung open the door to the marina office. “How’s Kevin? Are you still talking to him? What are you going to do? Is he-“

  “Wanda Sue, take it easy” Detective Billie rose from his position near the two-way radio. He moved toward her and placed an arm around her shoulders. “Kevin is all right. The boat is anchored-all safe and sound at Little Coral Pass. I radioed the Coast Guard to tell them we’re going to take a trawler out there to pick him up” He spoke in a calm, reassuring tone. “Right now he’s still on the radio. You can talk to him, but you’ve got to pull yourself together. Kevin needs you to be strong”

  She took in a deep breath and nodded. “I’m okay”

  “That’s the spirit.” He led her to the marine radio. “Just keep him talking. It’ll give him something to focus on” He showed her how to use the radio.

  Wanda Sue looked at it for a long moment. Then she clicked it on. “Kevin? This is your nana. How ya doing, sonny?”

  “I’m okay” A boy’s voice came through the static. “I … I miss you”

  “I know. But you’ll be back here in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. Nick Billie is going out there to pick you up. So all you need to do is sit tight and wait.”

  “Okay. But I’m cold, nana.”

  “I know. Bundle up with blankets.”

  Detective Billie motioned me to a corner. “Thanks for bringing her. It’s just what Kevin needs.” His dark eyes fastened on me with approval. “I couldn’t get hold of Sally Jo”

  “Just trying to help.” Could my legs keep me upright if he continued to look at me like that?

  “I see you brought some backup.” He rubbed between Kong’s ears.

  Kong peeked at him. Much to my embarrassment, shameless teacup poodle that he is, Kong nuzzled Detective Billie’s hand.

  “That’s odd. He doesn’t normally take to strangers. And he can be downright fierce when it comes to unfamiliar men.”

  “Maybe he’s having a change of heart.” I could swear Detective Billie’s voice had lowered to a husky murmur.

  “I guess that can happen.” What was he saying? Whose heart was changing? The dog’s? His? Maybe I did need Madame Geri-pronto. My radar was askew right now.

  He opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment Pete Cresswell blew in.

  “Hi ya, Mallie.” He gave me quick hug, careful not to crush Kong.

  “Hi, yourself.” I grinned. Pete was the local fisherman who’d been accused of murder last summer. My finding the real killer had gotten him off the hook, and since then he and his wife, Nora, had been beyond grateful as they put their lives back together. Pete was managing the marina, and Nora worked part-time at the Seafood Shanty. Needless to say, they’d become good friends of mine.

  “We’ve got the marina’s cabin cruiser all gassed up and ready to go,” Pete said.

  “Thanks, pal,” Detective Billie replied.

  Pete tried to stroke Kong. He growled. That was more like the Kong I knew and loved.

  “You want me to go with you?” Pete asked Nick.

  “No, I need you here to handle the radio and keep trying Sally Jo’s number” Detective Billie turned to me. “I know this is asking a lot, but could you come along? Wanda Sue gets deathly seasick, and I think a woman’s touch might help when we pick up Kevin.”

  “Me?” My first reaction was shock. Then a new and unexpected warmth surged through me.

  “If you think you’re up to it.” He paused. “You don’t get seasick, do you?”

  “No, never” Actually, I had no idea if I’d get seasick or not. I’d never been on a boat, except the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World. And I didn’t think that counted, because it was a small craft on a mechanicallyrun water track in a climate-controlled, totally artificial lagoon. “I’m sure I’ll be fine”

  “Okay, let’s get going. I want to reach Kevin before sunset.”

  “Mallie, please bring my grandson back to me!” Wanda Sue exclaimed.

  I gave her a thumbs-up and deposited Kong into her arms. “Have somebody take him for a walk soon”

  “Will do” Pete handed me a Thermos and a small paper bag. “Nora sent these
over for Kevin. It’s hot tea and homemade oatmeal cookies.”

  I flashed him a brief smile of thanks, then followed Detective Billie out of the office. We hurried toward the docks.

  “Looks like the wind has dropped, thank goodness. Not much of a chop on the water.” He looked out over the small bay. “We should be able to make it out to the pass in about thirty minutes.”

  I trailed him with steps that began to slow the closer I came to the docks. What had possessed me to agree to this rescue mission? I didn’t know a chop from a wave. And I certainly didn’t know anything about boats. I swallowed hard. Keep it togetherfor Wanda Sue.

  We halted in front of a newish-looking, midsized boat with a small cabin. Painted white with a green strip along the bottom part, it looked well cared for and seaworthy to my untrained eye. At least it probably wouldn’t sink anytime soon.

  Detective Billie jumped onto the deck with an easy grace. I stood rooted on the dock.

  “Come on” He motioned me on board.

  “Uh … maybe this wasn’t such a good idea” I eyed the eight-inch space between the dock and the side of the boat. What if I missed and fell in? I might get hypothermia and-

  All of a sudden, two strong arms clamped around my waist and lifted me into the boat.

  “I don’t have time to deal with indecision right now. Either you’re going with me, or I can put you back on the dock. What’s it to be?” Nick Billie looked down at me.

  “I’m going.” Please don’t let me be seasick, I chanted silently. If Wanda Sue’s grandson could survive out there all by himself, the least I can do is help rescue him without barfing.

  Detective Billie cranked the engine. It sputtered a few times, then roared to life. “Undo the line!” he shouted.

  I untied the rope connecting the boat to the dock and, before I could think, threw the entire thing onto the dock. Oops.

  He revved the engine a few times, shifted the boat into gear, and moved away from the dock. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” I joined him under the covered part of the boat where the wheel and engine throttle were located. No need to tell him I’d thrown off the wrong end of the rope.

  He zipped up his fleece-lined black leather jacket, then eyed my flimsy Windbreaker. “Are you going to be warm enough?”

  “I’ve got on a flannel shirt under this and a T-shirt under that. It’s called layering. Helps with the cold” Actually, I don’t know if it helped or not. But I didn’t have the money to buy a real coat right now, so I had to improvise with arctic-coping strategies I’d seen on the Discovery Channel.

  “Some weather for Florida, huh?” He cracked a smile.

  “I didn’t expect it, I can tell you that.” I was tempted to move closer to him-to share body warmth, that’s all. Purely for survival.

  About twenty minutes passed, the boat slapping the water the only sound that pierced the silence between us. The sun dipped behind dense, sooty clouds that were turning the sky a dull, gunmetal gray. I shivered.

  “We’re almost at the pass.” Detective Billie steered toward the far side of the bay. The boat arced in a half circle toward our target destination, and I gripped the side to steady myself.

  “Why do you think Tom took his son out to fish in weather like this? That s-seems sort of dumb to me,” I stammered, trying to let my body sway with the pitching of the boat, but the thumping motion of each wave caused me to stiffen.

  “A lot of men on this island live to fish. Some are third or fourth generation fishermen. Unless there’s a hurricane, they think it’s okay to be out on the water.”

  “But with a kid?”

  “They like to start ‘em young”

  I clucked my tongue. It seemed one step removed from those parents who’d throw their babies into the water and trust them to surface with an instinctive dog paddle. Heck, Kong could barely stand to put a paw in water, and he was a dog.

  “Well, Detective Billie, what do you think happened to Tom?” I widened my stance on the deck, bending my knees slightly. Please let us get to Kevin soon.

  “It’s Nick, now that you’re part of my crew.” He smiled briefly; then his mouth tightened into a thin line as he straightened out the boat. “Sorry to say it, but Tom probably had too many beers and fell overboard. It’s been known to happen.”

  Another shiver snaked through me like liquid lightning. “If he couldn’t make it back on board his boat, then he might have .. ” I didn’t want to say the word.

  “Drowned” His tone was flat, unemotional, but the grim set of his features told me he didn’t hold out much hope. “There’s the boat” He gestured toward a ramshackle vessel bobbing up and down in the middle of a channel that separated two mangrove islands. “This is going to be tricky. I’ve got to get us around the stern of his boat, then drop anchor to the port side.”

  Stern? Port? I was lost.

  He must have sensed my confusion. “Here, you take the wheel, and when I say so, cut back on the speed with the throttle” He pointed at the stick with a round knob at the end. “Shift it to neutral”

  I took his place, and he moved to the front of the boat. Then he exclaimed, “Where’s the line?”

  “I … I sort of threw it overboard back at the dock”

  He cursed in a language I didn’t understand, in all likelihood Miccosukee. But I didn’t need a translation to get the gist of it.

  We drew closer to the other boat. I could see a little boy standing on the back deck, his face panic-stricken as he waved his arms up and down.

  “Everything’s going to be all right, Kevin. Just stay put!” Nick shouted. “We’re going to come up alongside you.”

  The boy settled down.

  “Okay, ease back on the throttle,” he said to me.

  I jerked it downward, and the engine cut out immediately.

  “I didn’t mean shut it down. I meant neutral!” He darted to the edge of the boat. “Try to steer us toward Kevin. We should drift in that direction.”

  I did my best, yanking the wheel, and luckily the water seemed to push us in Kevin’s direction.

  “Kevin, throw me a line,” Nick instructed.

  The boy grabbed a thick rope and tossed it to him. Nick caught it and tied it around the metal thingamajig on our vessel. In spite of his fast work, our boat still slammed into the other boat, knocking Nick sideways. He quickly recovered and stretched out a hand to the boy.

  “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let go of you”

  The boy extended five shaking fingers. The boats rammed each other again, but somehow Nick managed to grasp Kevin’s hand and hold on. Then he hoisted the boy onto our boat.

  “Way to go!” I enthused.

  Our intrepid island cop carried Kevin under the canopy, where I was. Wow.

  “What happened to your dad?” Nick asked, setting Kevin down and rubbing his hands up and down the boy’s arms to warm him.

  “I don’t know. Like I told you on the radio, I woke up, and he was gone” Kevin’s teeth chattered as he tried to blink back the tears.

  “Okay. We’ll talk later.” He gave the boy a brief hug. “This is Miss Mallie. She’s going to take care of you while I get us home, okay?”

  Kevin managed to wag his head, his face pinched with cold.

  “I’ll take him below.” I put an arm around his thin shoulders. “I’ve got some hot tea and Nora Cresswell’s yummy oatmeal cookies. Would you like some?”

  His teeth chattered around something that sounded like a yes.

  “You two go ahead. I need to stabilize the boat and check out the area” Detective Billie grabbed a pair of binoculars.

  I led Kevin down the stairs into the small cabin. It held a mini kitchen, a table with two cushioned seats, and a pair of bunks in the front, which tapered to a point. Neat and tidy with the smell of leather dipped in seawater. Nice.

  Wrapping a thick wool blanket around Kevin, I settled him on the seat next to the table. Then I filled a mug with the steaming liquid and handed it to him.


  “Thanks, miss.” He gulped down the hot tea.

  “You can call me Mallie.” I took in his short brown hair, soft blue eyes, and sensitive features. I had never met Sally Jo, but if she looked anything like Wanda Sue, Kevin must resemble his dad.

  “Is that better?” I sat next to him, slipping an arm around his quaking shoulders.

  “Uh-huh. Could I have some more?” He held out the mug.

  “Sure” I smiled and reached for the Thermos.

  As I refilled his mug, I heard muffled swearing from on deck-this time in English.

  “You stay here, Kevin.” I scrambled up the stairs and moved toward the back of the boat, where Detective Billie stood very still, head lowered. “What’s up?”

  He handed me the binoculars and pointed to the mangroves off in the distance. I held the glasses up to my eyes. For an instant I couldn’t see anything as my vision adjusted to the lenses. Then I spotted it-a man’s body flung against the clawlike mangrove roots.

  “Tom?” I mouthed without speaking.

  He nodded.

  I stayed belowdecks for the choppy trip back to the Trade Winds Marina, keeping Kevin distracted so he wouldn’t hear Detective Billie radio the Coast Guard to pick up his father’s body. We talked about school, his favorite band-the Jonas Brothers-the latest Harry Potter movie, and what kind of fish he liked to eat.

  Coming up with topics proved surprisingly easy, considering I wasn’t used to kids. Didn’t have any and didn’t know anyone who did. The world of car pools, after-school activities, and kiddie films was unknown to me-if you discounted my brief sojourn at Disney World, which I tried to do. Those multitudes of Mickey Mouse worshippers seemed like aliens from another planet. Not that there was anything wrong with them; I just didn’t connect.

  But sitting with Kevin in the cozy confines of the boat cabin, I had my first upfront, close, and personal contact with a kid. It wasn’t half bad. Even if some of his schoolmates called him a juvenile delinquent, he’d just lost his father, and I found myself welling up with a sudden, unexpected maternal desire to protect him.