The Raft
Page 7
Chapter 4
“You're carrying a gun?” Rachael asked in shock, her mind sent into a spin by the idea that Maggie had been secretly armed this whole time. Maggie gave her a patronizing glare, and hopped across the gap between the two vessels. “This is Horus's boat?” Rachael changed the subject, deciding to let the pistol go for now.
“He christened her the Straight Dope,” Maggie said in a whisper from the far deck. She was moving cautiously towards the companionway of the untidy craft, pistol in hand. The danger of the moment slowly dawned on Rachael. She was still perched in full view on the cockpit bench of the Soft Cell, but quickly ducked low as Maggie came around to cover the cabin of Horus's vessel. “It can't be said that Horus lacks a sense of humor,” Maggie continued, almost matter of fact.
After a quick glance down into the depths of the Straight Dope's cabin, Maggie vanished down into its companionway. She appeared again moments later, tucking the small pistol back into her belt.
“Nobody's home,” she said.
Who was this woman? Rachael marveled. Suddenly, Rachael was having trouble reconciling the Maggie she had known from five years prior with the Maggie who'd just hopped aboard a strange ship, armed, without even a flutter of trepidation.
Maggie looked at Rachael cowering behind the gunwale and smiled. “Well, are you coming aboard?”
“Oh, okay...” Rachael climbed to her wobbly feet and stepped up out of the cockpit. She watched the gap between the two vessels as they bumped and danced in the choppy water. It made her woozy. She felt dizzy. Maggie held out a hand and Rachael took it, hopping to the other craft with Maggie's support.
“Okay?” Maggie asked, still smiling.
“I- It's...” Rachael replied, flustered. Still holding Maggie's hand, standing close, she could smell the flowery scent of whatever shampoo Maggie had used to wash her long, dark hair. Rachael realized that she hadn't hugged Maggie hello, what with all the other shocking surprises of their reunion. In fact, she hadn't touched her at all until Maggie had held out her hand to help Rachael transition between the two vessels. Reflexively, Rachael swung in and gave Maggie an uncomfortable hug. Maggie guffawed.
“Well, it's good to see you, too,” Maggie chuckled.
“I just realized... hello.”
“Hello.”
Rachael let go. It was an uncomfortable moment.
“Be careful,” Maggie broke the tension, letting go of Rachael's hand. “This is probably a crime scene.” Maggie turned, looking over the untidy cockpit, pondering the detritus.
“Thank you, Miss Marple,” Rachael said, woozily stepping down towards the companionway. “This isn't my first crime scene, you know.”
“Oh, of course,” Maggie replied, lifting a soggy blanket from a bench and finding only garbage underneath. “Then you're the expert. This is my first time. What are we looking for?”
“Seriously?” Rachael shot Maggie a sideways glance.
“Seriously...”
“Well, clues I suppose... evidence... and I'd say signs of a struggle, but in this mess I don't know how you'd tell.” Rachael leaned down and inspected the cabin below, down through the companionway. If the deck was messy, then the main cabin was a garbage heap. “Has the ship been tossed? Was someone looking for something?”
“No,” Maggie replied. “It's always this messy.”
“You've been aboard before?”
“Oh, sure,” Maggie dismissed. She was opening the engine compartment and stooping to look inside. “Horus is always in some kind of trouble.”
“He lived here with Meerkat?”
“Mmm.”
“We should wait for the police,” Rachael said, her curiosity giving way to discomfort. “We could be contaminating the scene of the crime.”
Maggie closed the engine compartment with a thud. “As I said, we need to find Horus before the dryfoot cops arrive. But I see every indication that he's gone and put his boots on.”
“Done what?”
“Fled to dryland.” Maggie pointed up at the tree-lined shore a dozen yards from the moored boat. “Horus is gone, moored here. He killed Meerkat, for whatever reason, and fled to dryland. I suppose I should take it as a compliment.”
“Compliment?”
“He'd rather answer to the dryfoot police than me.”
Maggie stood surveying the junk all around her, thinking. “His stash,” she said. A light in her eyes flashing.
Maggie pushed past Rachael, climbing down the short ladder into the main cabin. She stepped through the piles of clothes and discarded blankets and opened a set of cabinets in the galley. Rachael followed, lowering herself carefully below deck. She resisted touching anything, half in disgust and half out of concern that anything on the boat could be evidence.
Maggie tapped at the back of a cabinet, found what she was looking for and slapped the wood with the palm of her hand. The back panel of the cabinet gave way and Maggie pulled out an extra large zip lock bag full of vegetation.
“My, that's a lot of weed,” Rachael said in admiration. Maggie hefted the zip lock bag in her hands. It was at least two to three pounds.
“Horus wouldn't have left without his personal stash,” Maggie contemplated.
“What? His drugs? I thought you said he was a dealer?”
“He is. But this is his own special BC stock. Not for retail sale. If Horus was running for his life, he wouldn't have left this behind. He thinks he's going to come back...”
“He must have left in a hurry. He panicked.”
“Sure, but he's not that afraid of me,” Maggie pondered. “And he'd have been safer out here, aboard the Raft, from the dryfoots...”
Something was bugging Rachael. “How did you know that was there?” Rachael asked, pointing at the zip lock bag.
“I...” Maggie suddenly blushed. “It's for glaucoma,” she hedged.
“You have glaucoma?” Rachael smirked.
“I could... any day now...” Maggie smiled, then chuckled. They both let themselves have a light moment, forgetting for a second the reason they were there.
“Then that's it,” Rachael said with finality. “Meerkat is dead and Horus is at large on the mainland. He's the police's problem now, this is a dead end.”
“Mmm,” Maggie grunted. She put down the zip lock bag and gave the messy galley a pass with her eyes. At the head, she pushed in the small folding door.
“We can bring the cops here to the Straight Dope. Give them what we've got. Perhaps when they realize that Horus is no longer aboard the Raft, it'll take the wind out of their sails. Surely, if it's obvious that Horus isn't hiding aboard the Raft, the Coast Guard is going to have a hard time justifying boarding Raft ships.”
“Mmm,” Maggie grunted again.
“Do you have anything more constructive to add than 'Mmm'?”
“How about motive?” Maggie said, reaching for something in the tiny bathroom. She came back with a small, empty cardboard box.
“What's that?”
“A home pregnancy test. At least the box for one.”
“Meerkat was pregnant?” Rachael's eyes widened.
Maggie shrugged. “It's a potential motive for murder.” Maggie gently returned the box to the shelf above the toilet, closing the folding door carefully. “Do you have any contacts at the coroner's office? Do you know when Meerkat's autopsy is scheduled?”
“I can make some calls.” Rachael pulled her phone from her pocket. “Horus would kill Meerkat 'cause she was having a baby?”
“He might,” Maggie mused, “if it wasn't his.”