Honeymoon for One

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Honeymoon for One Page 15

by Beth Orsoff


  I STAYED WITH THE boat while Jack walked Jane up to Front Street. They both insisted I stay hidden in the trees. Easy for them to say since they weren’t the ones being eaten alive by mosquitoes. I ran out in the open as soon as I saw Jack walking up the beach.

  “Did you put her in a cab?” I asked.

  “No, we decided she should go to the disco for a little while so she’d have an alibi.”

  I had an alibi and it hadn’t kept me out of jail. But in her skin tight black cat suit, I didn’t think she’d have a problem finding men eager to vouch for her.

  I helped Jack push the boat into the water, then climbed in while he started the engine. Neither one of us spoke until we reached the other side of the island where the turtle egg hatchery sat on a deserted stretch of beach.

  “The marine reserve’s about a mile that way,” Jack said, pointing north. “Technically, we’re not part of the reserve, but our proximity keeps this place secluded. Although the poachers always manage to find it.”

  “Poachers?”

  “For the turtle eggs. They’re considered an aphrodisiac down here. Although sometimes it’s just a poor guy trying to feed his family.”

  We walked past a roped off area where Jack said the eggs had been buried before they hatched, and I followed him to a cabin on the cusp of the tree line. “This is the hatchery,” he said, as he unlatched the padlock on the front door.

  I was expecting something high-tech and was immediately disappointed. It consisted of a long metal table surrounded by stools, a giant double sink in the corner, and an aquarium with one tiny turtle swimming in circles.

  “Who’s this?” I asked.

  “That’s Fred.”

  “Why is he spinning like that?” I was agitated just watching him, surely he must be too.

  “Look at his flippers.”

  They could’ve fit on my fingertip, but one was definitely smaller than the others. “Can you fix that?”

  “Nope,” Jack said, turning on the lights in the back room.

  “Then what’s going to happen to him?”

  Jack shrugged. “C’mon, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  At the back of the hatchery was a dormitory style room consisting of a narrow bed, a metal desk and chair, a bookshelf made from wood planks and cinderblocks, and a musty couch and coffee table that had probably been rejected by the Salvation Army.

  “The bathroom’s in there,” Jack said, pointing to a closed door next to a cube refrigerator with a coffeemaker and a paint-peeled toaster oven on top. “There’s cups under the sink.”

  “You live here?” I asked, trying not to sound too incredulous.

  “No, but when I’m working here, it’s a good place to crash for the night.”

  Jack offered me the bed and took the couch for himself. The twin bed really was too narrow for two people, but I still thought he’d try. I supposed after a week in jail I wasn’t looking too attractive.

  Compared to the beach chair that had been my bed at the police station, the sagging mattress felt like a pillow top, yet I still couldn’t sleep. Something was gnawing at me.

  “Jack?”

  “Hmmmm,” he said from the couch.

  “Why did you come to the police station tonight?”

  “I told you,” he said through a yawn. “I thought maybe you could use some help.”

  Actually, he hadn’t told me, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I didn’t believe him anyway. “The last time I saw you, you were pretty angry with me.”

  “I got over it.”

  “You got over it?”

  “Geez Lizzie, can’t a guy do a good deed without getting the third degree.”

  Only if he’s got a good reason. But obviously he didn’t want to share it with me. “I guess you’re right. And Jack?”

  “What!”

  “I just wanted to say thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now can we please go to sleep? I’ve got to get up for work in four hours.”

  I woke to the sound of running water. It took me a second to get my bearings and remember where I was. I looked for Jack on the couch, but it was empty. My heart skipped a beat before I realized he must be in the shower and I fell back asleep. The next time I awoke, Jack really was gone. But he left me a note promising he’d be back later.

  I had no phone, no television, no computer, and no one to talk to, so I decided to go for a walk on the beach. After a lukewarm shower with plenty of soap, I climbed back into my dirty clothes. It was either that or go naked, and they weren’t yet grungy enough for me to consider that option.

  I walked along the shoreline towards the rocks about a mile away. I climbed the fifteen feet to the top, only slipping once, but decided it wasn’t worth the exertion. The other side looked just like my side—beach and ocean, except for a large yellow sign proclaiming it the property of the Camus Caye Marine Reserve. Off in the distance I spied a dive boat and a group of snorkelers bobbing in the water. Not long ago that had been me. It was hard to believe how quickly my life had changed.

  When I could feel my skin burning, I walked back to the hatchery. After gulping down the last bottle of water in the fridge, I scanned Jack’s bookshelf. All I found were textbooks—turtles, birds, and marine biology. They’d be great if I was looking for something to put me to sleep, but I was searching for something to distract me from my boredom, my hunger, and my sense of doom. I would’ve cleaned the hatchery if I could’ve found cleaning supplies. All I found was Fred.

  “Aren’t you tired of swimming in circles?”

  Fred didn’t answer, but he stared at me through his glass aquarium. He wanted out. I could tell. So I scooped him up with the net and carried him outside to the beach. I figured we could race to the ocean. And just to be fair, I was giving him half an hour head start.

  Fred had barely moved an inch when I heard crunching, then two sets of beady black eyes popped out of the sand, followed by two little white bodies. In an instant, the sand crabs had Fred surrounded, and were scratching at his eyes with their pinchers. I didn’t know what else to do, so I kicked sand onto them, grabbed Fred, and ran.

  When I was sure the crabs weren’t following us, I slowed down. “Can you believe that?” I said to Fred. “They would’ve eaten you alive.”

  He didn’t seem concerned.

  I looked around and realized we were on the south side of the hatchery. Since I hadn’t yet explored this beach, I kept walking. When I spotted a dead palm tree lying across the sand up ahead, I decided I’d walk that far then head back, but as I approached I heard raised voices. “Do you think we should go to take a look?” I asked Fred.

  He had no opinion, but since I doubted Officer Juan and Sergeant Ramos would be searching for me here, I decided to take a peek.

  Fred and I moved up the beach towards the tree line and crept around the bend. Two men were walking back and forth between a speed boat anchored off shore and something buried in the trees. They were both carrying armloads of plastic bags filled with white powder. It looked like flour but I assumed it wasn’t.

  Further away two other men were standing on the beach shouting at each other in Spanish. The better dressed one—still in shorts, but paired with a silky looking button down shirt and loafers—was yelling at the one wearing board shorts and a tank top. Eventually the tank top man stormed off. He had his back to me, but I caught a glimpse of him as he turned and headed out to the boat.

  “Fred,” I whispered, “that’s Manuel.”

  Fred, as usual, had no response. But he did start nibbling on my finger and for a little guy he had a surprisingly strong grip. We crept back around the bend and high tailed it back to the hatchery. When we arrived, Jack was waiting for us on the beach.

  “Where were you?”

  “Fred and I got bored so we went for a walk.”

  “Fred went for a walk?”

  “I walked. He was carried.”

  Jack took the turtle from my hand and I followed them both into the
hatchery. Jack dropped Fred back into his aquarium with a couple of tiny shells, then asked if I was hungry. Ravenous was more like it. I followed Jack into the back room where he’d laid out two sandwiches and a bag of chips on the coffee table.

  “I brought more water,” he said. “It’s in the fridge.”

  I grabbed two and joined him on the couch. I thought about what I’d witnessed as I munched my ham and cheese. I couldn’t think of a reason not to tell him.

  “Jack, I think I saw Manuel today.”

  He nearly choked on his water. “Where?”

  “That end of the beach,” I said, pointing in the direction of the dead palm tree.

  “What was he doing?”

  “Arguing with someone in Spanish.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, reaching for the chips. “I was pretty well hidden in the trees.”

  “Good,” he said, and took another swig of water. “You should stay in the hatchery.”

  Probably sound advice, but I couldn’t just let it go. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the cocaine would it? Or was it heroin in those little plastic baggies?”

  Chapter 41

  JACK SET DOWN HIS water bottle, but didn’t answer me.

  “Are you in on it?” I finally asked. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in.” As a fugitive myself, I was certainly in no position to point the finger at anyone else.

  “I can’t believe you think I’m a drug dealer!”

  “I don’t, but you’re not answering me. What am I supposed to think?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said. “That stuff’s all over down here. Everyone just looks the other way.”

  “If everyone knows about it then why is it a problem if Manuel sees me?”

  “Because you’re supposed to be in hiding, remember?”

  Oh right. I kept forgetting that.

  We ate the rest of our lunch in silence.

  “Good thing Jane’s not here,” I said, balling up the empty bag of chips. “She hates it when people aren’t speaking to each other.”

  “Who said we weren’t speaking?”

  “I just assumed since you’re giving me the silent treatment.”

  “I’m deciding whether or not to tell you something.”

  “Well you have to tell me now. You can’t tease me like that and then not tell me.”

  He sighed but finally said, “Remember when you asked me last night why I helped you?”

  “Yes, and you got mad at me.”

  “What I told you, well, it wasn’t one hundred percent true.”

  “Oh?” I knew it.

  Jack shifted his attention to a string hanging off the hem of his shorts. “The truth is I felt a little bit guilty.”

  “About what?”

  “About your situation.”

  “Why? It’s not your fault. It’s not like you killed Michael.” When it occurred to me, “Did you?”

  He finally looked at me. “Of course not.”

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  He sighed again and stared up at the ceiling, then blurted out, “It’s possible I may have been responsible for that jade ending up in your suitcase.”

  “What!” I was instantly on my feet. “You planted that jade in my suitcase? Why the hell would you do that? What were you thinking?”

  He jumped up and grabbed my shoulders. “Lizzie, just calm down.”

  I pushed him away. “I’m not gonna calm down. This whole thing is your fault. I could spend the rest of my life in prison because of you. And you had the nerve to get mad at me for lying.”

  “That’s why I’m telling you. I believe in being honest with people.”

  “Well how about being honest with the police? That could actually do me some good.”

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “Why not? It’s okay for me to go to jail but not you?”

  “I’m not the one who planted the jade, and I have no proof who did. All I’ve got are my suspicions.”

  “And who do you suspect?”

  “Manuel. Or one of his associates.”

  “Why would Manuel plant jade in my suitcase? Is he an antiquities dealer too?”

  “Remember the night we went out on the boat?”

  “Yes.” Regardless of my feelings for him at that moment, I’d never forget that head massage.

  “Remember when Manuel pulled up next to us and how surprised he seemed?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “He wasn’t. That was for your benefit.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Manuel’s the one who suggested I take you out on the boat that night.”

  “Why?”

  He sat back down and ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time. And even when I’d heard they’d arrested you, it didn’t occur to me. But the second time, when Jane told me they’d found Michael’s blood on those pieces, I started to suspect.”

  “Suspect what?”

  “Lizzie, how do you think Michael’s blood got there?”

  “I assumed from the person who killed him. Wait, you think Manuel killed Michael?”

  “No, Manuel’s not a killer. But some of his associates might be.”

  “You think one of those drug dealers killed Michael?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve got no proof of anything. But I think you should stay away from Manuel and his friends.”

  Chapter 42

  “THIS BETTER BE GOOD,” Jane said, splashing through three feet of water to get to the shore. At my insistence Jack brought Jane out to see me after he finished work for the day. I don’t know how he managed to get her on the dive boat without a Xanax, but she obviously wasn’t relaxed.

  “Nice to see you too.” I’d heard Jack’s boat coming from miles away and was waiting for her on the beach.

  “And why are you holding a turtle?”

  “His name’s Fred.”

  She shrugged and walked into the hatchery. Fred and I followed. “It’s not great,” she said, “but it’s an improvement over last week’s accommodations.”

  “Yeah, there’s no chicken wire on the windows and I don’t have to use a bucket if I have to pee in the middle of the night.”

  “Your friend Sergeant Ramos came to see me this morning. He brought Juan too. They looked everywhere for you. Even under the bed.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “Just the fake badges.” Jane smiled, clearly pleased with herself. “I hid the rest of the gear in the rolled up towels next to the bathtub. They never even thought to look”

  Jack walked in with a giant red cooler in his arms. “Does everyone like clams?”

  We both nodded.

  “Good. Does anyone want to help me start a fire?”

  Neither one of us moved.

  “Okay. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  Jane peered at the couch in disgust before opting for the bed. “He seems eager to please,” she said, leaning back on the pillow.

  I pulled two bottles of water out of the fridge and handed her one. “He’s trying to make amends for landing me in jail.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Obviously Jack hadn’t told her, so I explained.

  “That’s unbelievable,” she said when I’d finished.

  “I know. But I’ve been thinking. It’s not just drugs that get smuggled into the U.S., they smuggle people too. Maybe Manuel can help.”

  She was shaking her head. “Forget it.”

  “Why?” I thought it was my best idea yet.

  “I called my dad this morning when the police left. He checked the INS site and they already have your name on the watch list. Even if we can get you into the country, the next time you use your credit card or an ATM machine, they’ll pick you up.”

  “God, is this never going to end? Am I going to be a fugitive for the rest of my life?”

  “Of course not. We just have to find
the killer ourselves. We already have two new leads.”

  “Two? Who besides Manuel?”

  “Jack.” The ‘of course’ was implied. “You’re not really buying his whole guilt trip story, are you?”

  “I take it you’re not?”

  “What better way to avert suspicion then to point the finger at someone else.”

  “But I didn’t suspect him. He’s the one who brought it up.”

  She was twirling her hair again. “I bet he brought you here because he knew you’d see Manuel and start asking questions.”

  I wasn’t very happy with Jack, but I didn’t think he was a murderer, or Manuel either. I wasn’t so sure about his friends. The one I’d seen him arguing with earlier seemed like he had a short fuse.

  “We need to get you out of here,” she said.

  “Fine by me. What’s the plan? Knock Jack out and steal his boat?”

  “No, we’re bringing Jack with us.”

  “Why? He already admitted setting me up and you think he’s a murderer too.”

  “Lizzie, when’s the last time you watched The Godfather?”

  “I don’t know.” Nor did I see the relevance.

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Plus neither one of us know how to drive a boat.”

  Jack took Jane back to the Tradewinds and I spent the night alone at the hatchery flinching every time a bird called or a tree branch rustled in the wind. Jane had me completely spooked. I was sure Jack or Manuel or the guy Manuel had been arguing with was going to come and slit my throat in the middle of the night, which was why I was sleeping with a plastic knife under my pillow. It was the best weapon I could find.

  “We’re leaving,” Jack said when he arrived the next morning. “Go pack your stuff.”

  “I didn’t bring anything.”

  “Then you can help me pack mine.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, as he tossed notebooks and dirty t-shirts into an overnight bag, while I slipped the plastic knife into my shorts pocket.

  “Your friend Jane rented a cottage on Parrot Caye.”

  “A cottage?”

  “Her words,” he said. “And my scuba class starts at ten.”

 

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