Now I can see I’m in a large storage room, a few cases of beer piled in one corner.
I’m crazy. That’s the only explanation. It’s one thing to make up conversations with my sister, and if I’m going to be totally honest with myself, it’s been a long time since those felt made up. But seeing her? I’m taking crazy to a whole new level. I should go back and move in with Martha.
I rise slowly and turn to the open doorway. Whatever or whoever is going to come through it, this is real.
Suddenly Dr. Jake rushes forward and pulls me into a bear hug. I’m not sure who I expected, but it wasn’t him.
“Damn it, mate, you had us all half-dead with fright.” He stands back, still clutching me with one hand, and puts the other up to my jaw. “He really knocked you about, didn’t he? But not to worry, you’re still in one piece. I thought a croc might have got you, so you’re looking a damn sight better than I feared. What were you doing going into the swamp at night? And then you come back and get into a row with Bobby’s boy.” He shakes his head at my colossal lack of judgment. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
I don’t know what to say. He thinks he’s talking to a rational person. Wandering in a swamp and starting a fistfight are the least of my lapses from sane behavior.
“Let’s get you home, then,” says Dr. Jake, realizing he’s not going to get anything intelligent out of me.
Bobby is standing in the doorway to the storage room and steps aside as Jake propels me through, one hand still firmly on my shoulder.
“He started it,” Bobby grumbles, but he looks away sheepishly when Dr. Jake holds up his hand for silence.
“I don’t want to hear it, Bobby,” Jake says. “Count yourself lucky I didn’t bring the police with me. You can be dead certain I will rain all bloody hell down on you if you or your boys go near Luke again.”
I stop just as we reach the door.
“Wait,” I say to Dr. Jake and turn back to Bobby. “What’s your problem with my sister?”
Bobby glowers at me.
“The boy asked you a question, Bobby,” prompts Dr. Jake. “Do you want to answer him or would you rather answer the police?”
“Ain’t no business of yours, Jake,” Bobby snarls, but when neither of us moves to leave, he continues, “Dat girl be bad for business, always saying she’s gonna put a stop to my activities. Ain’t none of her business. But it weren’t me that done her in, if that be her fate. You should ask dem who be dropping the cargo. It weren’t me responsible for killin’ all dem fish.”
I look at Dr. Jake to see if he has a clue what this guy’s talking about. To my surprise, he nods.
“She was upset about the drug drops,” Dr. Jake says. “Let’s go, Luke. We can talk on the way home.”
I scowl at Bobby. “If I find you have anything to do with my sister’s disappearance, I’ll be back,” I promise fiercely as I follow Dr. Jake outside to the street.
It’s blistering hot, and I wince as every inch of my body objects to the simple act of walking. My hand goes to my bruised stomach. I wonder if Dr. Jake’s right about no serious damage. He’s only a fish doctor, after all.
“What was he talking about back there?” I ask, though it actually hurts to talk.
“There was some trouble a few weeks back. A Venezuelan plane dumped some fuel drums and a huge stash of cocaine in the ocean just offshore, then crash-landed on the island. There’d been talk for a long time that traffickers were stopping off up at the airport to refuel in the middle of the night, but that was the first real proof.”
“What did that have to do with my sister?”
“I hope nothing, but she was mighty upset about it. She said something about organizing a meeting to demand an investigation. No one was ever caught, you see.”
“I do see,” I say, because this is the sister I know all too well — anti-drug, anti-crime, anti-anything that threatens her precious fish, and completely unable to keep her mouth shut.
ME: Is that it, Pat? You couldn’t be satisfied just bossing me around. You had to take on South American drug traffickers?
PAT: Well, they couldn’t have been any more stubborn than you.
“Do you think they did something to her?”
“As far as I know, there haven’t been any reports of planes landing since the crash, but she did disappear about the same time, now that you mention it.” He gives me a troubled look.
Any further speculation is short-circuited by Tracy barreling out of the Shark Center, which we’ve just reached, and flinging herself on me.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she squeals, clutching me to her breast. “We were all so worried. Dr. Jake sent out an all-points on the radio, asking if anyone knew where you were. Lemon Larry got back to him and said you might have gone out to old Martha’s, but when you weren’t back by this morning, we didn’t know what to think.”
“Radio?” I ask, as I determinedly pull away from her.
“The shortwave radio,” Dr. Jake explains. “Everyone on the island has one, every boat as well. It’s how we keep track of each other. Except Martha, of course. She says it interferes with her spirits, or some such nonsense.”
“Dr. Jake was on it all night,” continues Tracy. “We kept Station Sixteen open just for updates on you, but the last anyone saw, you were heading down the road past the airport.”
I didn’t even notice anyone around when we were passing the airport. It must be a bitch to cut school in this town.
“Sorry to scare you. We got lost and didn’t get there until after nightfall. Then we had something to eat and a bit of a rest before heading back.” I don’t bother filling him in on the voodoo stuff. In the clear light of day, I’m embarrassed that we went all that way for such a stupid reason and have nothing to show for it.
“Well, at least that was a good decision.” Dr. Jake gives me a stern look, reminding me it was one of too few in his book. “I expect you’re wanting some sleep now.”
I nod, though the truth is, there’s one thing that I hope will be worth following up on.
“Is Pete around?” I ask.
“He’s in the equipment shack,” says Dr. Jake. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, I just need to ask him something.”
“All right, then. I better get on the radio and let everyone know you’ve returned safely.” He ducks into the office, with Tracy close on his heels, while I head to the shack.
Pete is crouched on the floor sorting flippers into sizes and separating them into neat rows. It doesn’t look like he lost too much sleep over my disappearance.
“You’re back,” he says, barely glancing up from his task.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions about my sister.” I’m careful to keep my voice neutral.
Pete immediately stops what he’s doing and stands up, looking at me sharply. “I thought we’d covered that,” he says.
“Yeah, but you seemed a little unclear on the details before. You weren’t sure if you were speaking to Pat that night. Anything more come back to you?”
“No, just what I told you.” He folds his arms over his chest.
“You see, that’s strange, because someone saw you talking to my sister for a long time. In fact, she says it looked like you were hitting on her.”
“So I hit on her. So what? It doesn’t mean I had anything to do with her disappearance. She was by herself when she left.”
I perk up, suddenly alert.
“You saw her leave?”
“I didn’t say that.” He leans over and picks up half a dozen weighted belts. Turning his back on me, he starts pulling out weights and piling them on a shelf.
“That’s exactly what you said.” I step between him and the shelf.
“Okay, so I saw her leave.” He glares defiantly. “What difference does it make? She was alone. I don’t know what happened to her. Is that clear enough for you?”
My breath is coming in short bursts as a
drenaline courses through my body. I’ve just caught him in a lie, and I’d be willing to bet it isn’t his only one. I’d like to beat the truth out of him, but I’ve already started one fight today and look where that got me, not to mention the fact that he’s right. Seeing her walk off on her own, even hitting on her, doesn’t prove a thing. No one saw him leave with her.
“You know, if I find out you’re lying to me, you’re going to regret it.” My voice shakes with the effort of holding myself back.
“Whatever.” He makes a show of smirking but doesn’t quite pull it off. Stepping around me, he goes back to stacking weights.
I stomp to my room, trying to tell myself I’m overreacting. If hitting on my sister were a crime, half the guys in my high school would be locked up. From what I’ve learned over the last few hours, Pat was on the wrong side of far more dangerous people than this poser. He may not have had anything at all to do with her disappearance. But why is it that every time I get near him, I get a churning in my gut? And it’s not my imagination that he’s equally twitchy around me.
ME: I need some guidance here, Pat.
PAT: If he walks like a sleazoid and he talks like a sleazoid …
ME: So he does know something?
PAT: You’re the one playing detective. You tell me.
ME:
CHAPTER 11
The pounding starts in my dream, with images of Pat’s body crashing against a wooden post. Blood streams from her head. She’s struggling with something but doesn’t try to save herself as her body cracks against the wood again. I shout at her to watch out. The post is behind her, approaching fast. Why doesn’t she see it coming? But she can’t hear me over the sound of her own screams. There’s another noise, a sound so familiar it’s like breathing. But what is it? I wake up in a cold sweat and take a minute to realize the pounding is real.
I’m in my darkened bedroom at the Shark Center, which means I’ve slept the whole day away. Someone is banging on the door. I get unsteadily to my feet as the sound reverberates through my body, my head throbbing right along with it. I had my alarm set for midafternoon, so I must have slept through it. That sucks. I wanted to talk to Jamie today. I still haven’t heard his side of the story about the fight he had with Pat the night she disappeared. Even if that leads nowhere, I need to ask him how far Pat got with her drug investigation. How many people could she have antagonized who might want revenge? I reach for my watch and see it’s past nine; maybe not too late to see him if I leave immediately. I grab my shirt as I unlock the door.
Tracy bursts in, tears streaming down her face. It takes a few minutes before I can make any sense of her garbled sobs, since she’s thrown herself on my bed and buried her face in my pillow.
“I’m next, I’m next,” she blubbers hysterically.
I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed, leaving the door open.
“Is there a problem?”
She pops up and throws her arms around me, giving a few last hiccuping moans before she’s ready to explain.
“You have to come see,” she says, standing up and attempting to pull me to my feet, which doesn’t work because I outweigh her by a good forty pounds and I don’t want to go anywhere with her.
“See what?” I start massaging my temples. I could sell tickets to the drumming in my head. Maybe I shouldn’t have rubbed off the voodoo protection. Or maybe it’s the cause.
“The doll,” she says, yanking on my arm again. “Hurry, Luke, you have to come.”
Of course, I don’t have to come at all, and if we’re talking about another doll, I definitely don’t have to hurry. It’s not like it’s going to walk off on its own.
She plops back down on my bed and looks at me mournfully.
On the other hand, the only way to get her out of my room is to go with her. I don’t know why this girl irritates me so much. Sure she’s a flake, but I’ve met other girls like that who don’t usually bother me. Sometimes they’re even cute. Also, she was Pat’s roommate and supposedly her friend. It’s probably just the awkwardness of our last encounter, coupled with the comments she made about Pat, which still rankle. Whatever it is, I want to get rid of her. I jump decisively to my feet.
“You’re right, we should hurry.”
She eyes me suspiciously but gets up and follows me outside and down the path to her room. She points to her front step, standing well back, and like last time, I’m the one to reach under and drag it out. I have to admit it bears an uncanny resemblance to her, right down to the blond pigtails and blue eyes.
“Are you missing any hair?” I ask, holding it up next to her head so I can compare.
She shrinks back and stares at me in horror.
It seemed like a fair question, but I drop the doll to my side, curling it into my fist so it’s out of her sight. Now that I’m up, I’m even more anxious to make a quick exit. I’m certain I’m not going to find any clues to my sister’s disappearance here, and I’ve already wasted the better part of a day and night on one voodoo doll. I refuse to waste time on another.
“You have to check my room for me. I can’t go in there alone.” She flaps the bottom of her shirt, twisting it up like an anxious six-year-old.
“I have some things I need to do, Tracy.”
“I’m scared.”
“I promised Zach I’d meet him.”
“Just till I fall asleep.”
She stares at me with her enormous blue eyes and as certain as doping in the Major Leagues, I know she’s playing me. I’m powerless to resist. It’s as if my rescue-reflex, in response to her lame rendition of chick-in-distress, is hardwired into my DNA. I’d really like to know where girls learn to pull this shit and why no one is teaching guys how to deal with it. Girls already have tits. How many more advantages do they need?
“Just for a few minutes,” I grumble and follow her inside.
She lies down on her bed, which is either proof of good faith or the next step in her campaign to take me down. I sit on the other bed, realize it must be my sister’s and spring up like it’s on fire. Walking over to the desk, I sit there and stare out the window.
“Who do you think is doing this?” Tracy asks.
I’m so preoccupied, trying to figure out her endgame, that it takes me a minute to understand what she’s talking about.
“Don’t know.”
“Do you think it’s Reesie? She hangs around here all the time.”
I cut her a look. “She works here.”
“Pete said you two were on the dock yesterday.”
“If you don’t at least try to get to sleep, I’m leaving.”
“I could fall asleep faster if you’d lie down next to me.”
She pouts in a way that’s meant to be sexy but bugs the hell out of me. I still haven’t followed up on Zach’s comment that Pat was upset the night she went missing. The longer I spend here, the less chance I’ll get to talk to Jamie tonight.
“One more word and I’m out of here.”
She makes a face and rolls over on her side with her back to me. I check my watch. Jamie should be home by now. In fact, if I hang around here much longer, it’s going to be too late to go knocking on his door. I didn’t see his mom there the last time, but she must live there. If she’s anything like Reesie, she’s not going to take kindly to a strange guy showing up at her house at all hours.
My head is throbbing worse than ever. I look around the room, wondering where Tracy might keep painkillers. There’s only one shelf between the beds. I tiptoe over for a closer look. She’s got the usual chick paraphernalia — hair bands, make-up, Brazilian Bikini Wax Microwave Kit. Girls really are another species.
I pick up a sequined shower bag. It seems as likely a place as any to stash medication. Sure enough, birth-control pills are right on top. I push them aside and see something that gives me such a shock I drop the bag. It crashes to the floor, the contents scattering in all directions. Tracy flips over and vaults off the bed, pouncing on her belongings like a tigre
ss protecting her cubs.
“What do you think you’re doing, going through my stuff?” she shrieks.
“What are you doing with my sister’s necklace?”
She glares at me. “Tricia gave it to me. What business is it of yours?”
“I gave it to her.” My mind is so heavy with images that I sink down on Pat’s bed and barely notice.
ME: How could you give it away? Don’t you remember when I bought it for you in that little seaside store in Atlantic City?
PAT: Of course I remember. We spent hours trolling the beach for sea creatures. I was so disappointed there weren’t any, but all you did was nag me to put my sandals back on in case I stepped on a sea urchin. You could never just enjoy the moment; you were always obsessing on the next thing that might go wrong.
ME: And you always acted like nothing ever could. You were only fourteen, but even then you were so sure of yourself.
PAT: When I saw that starfish pendant, I pleaded with Dad to buy it, but he’d blown all his cash on gas and roadside motels just to show me the ocean.
ME: So I spent every penny I’d saved from my paper route.
PAT: I still can’t figure out how you managed it. How did you have enough money? You didn’t steal it, did you?
ME: No. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I told the shop lady it was for you. She’d seen you admiring it. I think she wanted you to have it almost as much as I did. Anyway, she let me have it for the cash I had. I don’t think I paid more than half what it should have been, but she was just like everyone else in the universe. She didn’t want to disappoint you.
PAT: Are you sure that’s the way it was, Luke? You were the one who got the great price. Maybe it was you she didn’t want to disappoint.
ME:
“She never took it off,” I say accusingly, but I’m not sure whom I’m accusing. I know Pat changed when she came here, but that starfish meant something, at least to me. Even when she left for Utila and I wouldn’t say good-bye to her, I snuck enough of a peek to make sure she was still wearing it. Could she really have cared so little about me that she’d just give it away?
The Voice inside My Head Page 11