The Reef Roamer (The Roamer Series Book 1)

by Deborah D. Moore

  The agent wished her a pleasant stay in the islands and stamped her passport, grinning again, this time with a sweeping look up her shapely body. Jayme blankly returned his expression, collected her bags, and headed for the taxi line.

  Being a seasoned traveler, she knew it wise to find a friendly and trustworthy taxi driver, one who could sometimes be convinced into being a tour guide, for a price. A friendly native could give more information and insight than the local Chamber of Commerce. Caye Crocket was such a driver.

  During her week stay, Caye had taken her to back street restaurants and shopping marts that few had the privilege of visiting. His insight into local politics was delightful and entertaining. Jayme would miss his easy manner when she left, and her camera was filled with local life that likely wouldn’t make it to her travelogues.

  The week at Fantasy Island, which wasn’t an island at all, went by quickly, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as Jayme had anticipated. As an all-inclusive resort, the food was plentiful and reasonably good, even though the wine list left something to be desired. The accommodations were clean and modern, and even her single room had a king-sized bed. In fact, she was actually enjoying herself in the fast-paced life of volleyball, tennis, casinos, and nightclubs with a younger crowd, until she was hit on by several of the younger men while she was sitting by the pool.

  “Hey, pretty lady, if you’re not looking for some action, why are you here?” asked one of the men she politely turned down.

  “That’s a very good question,” Jayme replied with a grin. She took a closer look at the vacationers around her. Most everyone there was twenty-five to thirty-five years old and single. Several of the women were sunbathing topless, which was not unusual for Europeans. Not being one to judge, Jayme had passed it off as a different custom. She watched for a while, hiding her curiosity behind her large, dark sunglasses. Then it dawned on her: this was a singles resort. People of both sexes were looking to score some diversion for a week or two. It wasn’t a clothing-optional resort, although the toplessness was accepted, even encouraged.

  Jayme slipped on her cover-up, picked up her unread book, and headed for the resort front desk.

  “May I ask what may sound like a naïve question?” she asked the young man at the check-in station.

  “Ask anything you want. What can I help you with?” he asked, looking her over.

  “Is this a swinging singles resort?” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “You didn’t know that when you booked your reservations?” When he realized she was serious, his demeanor changed. “Fantasy Island allows its patrons to indulge in their…fantasies, whatever they might be.”

  “Oh, boy,” Jayme muttered. “Can I log into your Wi-Fi from my personal laptop?” Katherine had some explaining to do.

  “Most certainly. Here is the code and password,” he said, handing her a preprinted card with instructions. “Are you sure you don’t want to partake of our amenities?” His question was heavily laced with sexual suggestion, and it was obvious he would be happy to accommodate her.

  “I’m certain, thank you. My booking agent has obviously made an error.”

  ***

  In her room, Jayme tapped in the code and logged into the internet from her secure laptop. Pulling up her email, she accessed Katherine’s private account and initiated a chat.

  Jayme demanded in writing:

  “What the hell did you get me into?”

  The reply came a few minutes later.

  “Hi to you too. What do you mean?”

  Jayme replied:

  “Fantasy Island is for indulging in your…sexual fantasies! It’s a swinging singles resort!”

  Katherine’s reply was so long in coming, she thought the connection had been lost. Katherine finally replied:

  “I didn’t know, honest! I just did a search and found out the resort changed hands about three months ago, kept the same name, and changed the, ah, ‘venue’. I had an old brochure. I’m sorry, Jayme, I really am! Do you want me to get you into someplace else for the remainder of your time?”

  Jayme sighed and drummed her fingers on the glass top table, thinking.

  “I think I can last another day now that I know what’s going on.”

  She paused in her typing.

  “I should have realized something was off when most of the women walk the poolside topless. And the men…I’ve been hit on by a dozen guys half my age!”

  Jayme fumed, even though she knew Kath couldn’t hear her outrage.

  Katherine asked with a smiley face attached:

  “Are they cute?”

  Jayme hesitated and then typed:

  “Of course they are. Every one of the guests is either an Adonis or a Venus.”

  Since she found herself laughing, she added her own smiley face, alleviating the tension.

  Jayme added:

  “At least I got some good exercise playing volley ball with these children! Once I’m back home, you can voice my displeasure to the Chamber of Commerce. For now, I’m going to make the best of it. Kath, if this weren’t disastrous, it would be funny. The RR doesn’t go to places like this! Gotta go.”

  Jayme disconnected the chat, signed off, and closed her laptop. After a shower, she changed into conservative clothes and headed back to the offices, carrying her straw purse with the camera tucked inside.

  “Can you radio a cab driver for me? Caye Crockett?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the same young man replied, more professional this time.

  ***

  “Where would Missy Haller like to go today?” Caye asked, opening the taxi door for her.

  “Anywhere as long as it’s away from here,” Jayme answered as she slid into the front seat she preferred.

  “Missy not finding what she wants at Fantasy Island?” he asked with a playful wink.

  Jayme leaned back, resting her head, then thought better of it since the cab wasn’t all that clean and sat up straight. “To be honest, Caye, I’m mortified! I had no idea that place is…is…what it is!”

  “Ah, I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “It now makes sense to me. I was wondering why a lady like you would seek out a place like dat.” He drove for a while, leaving the more populated area behind. “I know a place that serves conch chowder that make you forget all about dat place.”

  ***

  After six days of noise, crowds, booming music, and avoiding people, Jayme was more than ready for her two weeks of relaxing and diving. And quiet!

  “You leave us so soon?” Caye queried as he loaded her bags into the taxi, a sincere sorrowful expression clouding his otherwise pleasant brown face.

  “No, Caye, I’m going over to Holm Cay for a couple of weeks, and then I’ll be back to the Vistas,” she explained.

  “Oh?” His almost nonexistent eyebrows arched upward. Subtle changes in his expression revealed ever-shifting thoughts as he took in this piece of news. “Is my lovely lady here for a special reason, maybe? So much moving around is not usual, even if you didn’t like Fantasy Island.” He laughed. “Why you not travel with a man? Someone so young and pretty should not be so alone.”

  “Whatever are you talking about, Caye?” Jayme was suddenly a bit nervous over the direction this conversation was taking. Was he suspicious? Had she slipped up somehow during all their time together? Maybe she had made a mistake confiding in him. She tried to hide her anxiety by deliberately being clumsy and knocked over her newly purchased straw shopping bag, spilling the contents.

  “You take dat camera with you everywhere. It looks expensive. What kind of film you use, Missy Haller?” Caye pressed.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Jayme lied, shoving things back into the colorful straw bag. “Whatever the guy at the video rental place sold me. I left all that up to those who know the business. I hope I have enough for my vacation!” She tried to sound flippant, knowing very well she didn’t use film. It apparently satisfied Caye, for he was silent all the way to the launch. She’d definitely have to
be more careful around him when she came back. Had she really slipped up or been too obvious? Maybe she was being paranoid, or was The Reef Roamer really that well known? If that was the case, maybe the Roamer should stay home more often. The thought didn’t appeal to Jayme. It also occurred to her there were good reefs in other parts of the world, where maybe she was less well known.

  She tipped Caye generously and decided to forget the past week, including her doubts. It was highly unlikely she would be back anyway when her stay at the Vistas ended.

  ***

  Holm Cay was a several miles long island nestled in between Elbow Cay and Tilloo Cay. Although it had a small settlement on one end of the island, the resort was, so far, its only business. It boasted only one docking area and two dozen slips.

  The resort had three launches: one for snorkelers and divers, another for fishing, and one reserved for emergencies. The resort was still unknown enough that rarely were two of the boats gone at the same time. A ferry, Jayme found out later, could be called for anytime of the day to take guests to any of the other islands, and most of the tour boats gladly stopped to pick up additional passengers if given enough notice.

  Jayme allowed the dock crew to assist her out of the ferry. She was more than slightly damp from the salt spray that had been abundant on the crossing, and her silk blouse clung to her like a second skin. She noticed the appraising glances from the young islanders, blushed, and turned her back to them so they couldn’t see the flush creeping up her face, as she lifted the soggy material from her breasts. Jayme knew she was attractive, but men staring still embarrassed her.

  As she left the dock and followed the charming, primitive signs along the path that led to the resort itself, she stopped to admire the breathtaking view. The island sported many of the Yellow Pine trees that dominated the Abacos. These had been trimmed to form a delicate arched tunnel that offered much desired shade from the hot tropical sun. She set her straw bag down on the gravel and pine needle walk and brought her digital mini-cam up to her face, thinking it would make an appealing shot. She took several long steps forward to give the camera’s eye the visual feeling of forward motion, then dropped the camera to her side again and turned back to her bag. She didn’t expect to have all the dock hands eyeing her.

  Quickly recovering, she giggled. “My sister is going to be green with envy when she sees these pictures! Smile!” She lifted the camera again and added footage of the crew waving at her.

  Maybe I ought to leave the camera in my room for a few days, she chided herself.

  Jayme tipped the young man who carried her suitcases to her room and leaned against the door with a sigh as she closed it behind him. She surveyed her spacious room, deciding it was nice.

  Well, let’s get this part over with so I can settle in. She picked up her camera once more and put her back to the door. Jayme had developed the habit of always filming her rooms first, so none of her personal belongings would ever be seen on camera.

  “This appears to be an average room,” she narrated. “Good sized, even for two people. Queen-sized bed with a firm mattress. Colors are pleasant. I like the combination of shades of pink, gray, and mauve. The splashes of bright green are cheery. And look at that! Fresh flowers. Nice touch. Worth an extra ten points.” Jayme continued around the room taking pictures and sometimes focusing in closely on details.

  “Let’s see how the closet space is.” She slid open the double doors. “Plenty of room in here. Hmm, what’s this?” Jayme zoomed in on what appeared to be dried weeds hanging from the rods. On closer inspection, she identified tansy and lavender. “No wonder I didn’t detect any chemical odor,” she mumbled to herself. Onto the film soundtrack she added, “A very ecological-minded staff here. Using natural herbicides for pest control. Keep in mind, if you’re in the tropics, there will be bugs. This is their natural habitat, not yours. A management that prefers to use natural means to keep bugs away without killing them, thus not interfering with the ecosystem, gets an extra ten points from The Reef Roamer!” She focused the camera on the private bath.

  “The bath facilities are modern and clean. There’s lots of countertop room and even shelves. I like that. The towels are soft, and so is the toilet paper. That’s got to be worth a few extra points!” Jayme’s throaty laugh bounced off the cream-colored tiles as she fingered the tissue paper.

  Stepping back into the main room, she gave one last pan. “The rooms are large, nicely decorated, and with enough useful furniture without being crowded. It’s clean in here and even smells clean. I give the place a nine.” Jayme had never given any place a ten, nor expected to.

  Completing the ‘tour’ of her room, Jayme set the camera down on the desk near the exterior glass door and unpacked her belongings, making herself at home. The bathroom quickly took on a lived in look with a variety of creams and lotions, scented soaps and shampoos, and the meager amount of makeup that, though she seldom used it, accompanied her everywhere. She set her now empty suitcases in the closet, changed clothes, and wandered out to an inviting path that led in the direction of the beach.

  Clad only in peach-colored shorts and a paler peach halter top, Jayme made a striking figure as she wandered barefoot along the silky white beach, sandals dangling from one delicate hand. Her skin had already taken on a healthy copper glow from her week in the sun on Fantasy Island, and her long auburn hair was streaked with a profusion of red and gold that now shimmered in the sunlight. At 5’7”, Jayme had a long stride and soon found herself a mile or so from where she started.

  “They say they have seven miles of secluded ocean beach,” she said, panning the camera. “Maybe during the next two weeks I’ll have a chance to explore some of it.”

  Her tone had an unusual wistfulness to it, even to her ears, and a wave of loneliness washed over her again, causing a heaviness in her chest and a prickling sensation behind her eyes. Jayme sat down on a nearby piece of driftwood and took a couple of deep breaths of clean salt air. She closed her eyes, and a moment later, a nearly inaudible, meditative hum emanated from her, surrounding her like a cloud. As the tightness in her chest eased, Jayme opened her eyes and stood. With a determined look fixed on her chiseled features, she reached for the ever-present mini-cam hanging at her side and took leisurely shots in all directions, making a complete 360-degree turn to take in the white sandy beach, sparkling blue ocean, and the lush foliage.

  “There will be no pity parties on this trip!” she reprimanded herself, shutting the camera off.

  The camera settled back into its place on the specially made belt clip around Jayme’s thin waist. Two years earlier, she had almost lost her camera by setting it down on a bench and turning her back. The thief had just reached for it when Jayme felt his presence, and in a lightning fast move, she clamped a viselike grip around his wrist, digging her thumb into the soft tissue between the metacarpal bones, instantly finding the trigger point that sent him to his knees. She’d saved her camera and valuable footage that day and vowed never to take that kind of chance again. When she got back home, she had contacted an engineer and explained the type of tether she had in mind. Based on the same principle of the retractable key chains night watchmen used, it also had a clasp to rest the camera on, retracted when not in use, and locked in place. Instead of a chain, hers was made of a high tensile strength nylon cord, and the device itself fit onto any of her own belts. She never set her camera down again.

  ***

  Dinner that evening in the resort restaurant was a rare treat. The tables were set with real linens of brilliant yellows, fine crystal goblets, and polished silver. Candles and fresh hibiscus graced the center of every table. The French doors along the south wall of the spacious room were open to allow in the evening breezes. On the air currents drifted the mixed fragrances of honeysuckle and mock orange, making the atmosphere heady with tropical scents.

  After making her selections from the menu, Jayme was delighted to find the management employed a magnificent chef. She feasted on c
onch chowder, island greens mixed with a spicy secret house dressing, and tender broiled lobster served with a delicate sauce. The service was impeccable, and topped off with a solitary island rum drink, she mentally gave the place a five-star rating.

  Jayme drifted off to sleep that night feeling more relaxed and content than she had in ages, the uneasy feelings of loneliness long forgotten.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Morning came early in the Bahamas. By 6:00am, Jayme was doing her usual morning routine of stretches and Tai Chi. She found the Tai Chi focused her, organized her thoughts, and prepared her for the day. When she was at home, the afternoon routine would be a vigorous karate workout, and evening would involve a half hour of yoga to center herself, pull herself back together to analyze the day’s events. On vacation, she usually eliminated the karate and added stretches and long walks for the exercise.

  By 7:00am, and freshly showered, Jayme was strolling leisurely onto the restaurant patio where the breakfast buffet was set. She had brushed her long, shiny auburn hair up into a knot at the top of her head, secured by several decorative combs. Since she rarely wore any makeup while on vacation, Jayme looked even younger than usual and her face shone with false innocence. A securely tied brightly colored sarong over her bathing suit revealed her slim tanned legs as she moved through the tables.