Danger at the Dive Shop

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by M. J. Mandrake




  Danger

  at the

  Dive Shop

  All rights reserved. © 2017 by Mercer Lake Publishing House, LLC

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

  Find me on Facebook at

  M. J. Mandrake Starling and Swift Mysteries fb.me/mjmandrake

  Murder at the Mayan Temple, Book One

  Death on the Wind, Book Two (September2017)

  Danger at the Dive Shop, Book Three (October 2017)

  Chaos in Cuba, Book Four (November 2017)

  Sabotage in Solitude Bay, Book Five (December 2017)

  A Scandal in Spain, Book Six (January 2018)

  Nightmare Under the Northern Lights, Book Seven (March 2018)

  Terror at the Turtle Sanctuary, Book Eight (April 2018)

  Death in Dubrovnik, Book Nine (May 2018)

  Chapter One

  “There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade,

  but Death you shall not.”

  ― T.S. Eliot

  Kitty Swift slipped off her fins and took a deep breath of the warm ocean air as the other members of her diving group removed their gear. Chica, her German Shepherd service dog, hadn’t been thrilled about Kitty going off to explore the reef without her. Now she treated Kitty to a thorough inspection upon her return.

  “Am I in one piece?” Kitty asked.

  Chica gave her dignified-but-slightly-petulant look. Declaring Kitty in acceptable shape, she ducked her head and turned away. She appeared to be gazing out across the sparkling turquoise waters of the Caribbean ocean, but Kitty knew she was giving her the cold shoulder.

  “You wouldn’t have liked staying home with Nancy,” Kitty reminded her. Nancy was the graduate student who watched her vintage bookstore in Mérida

  when Kitty was working as a sign language interpreter for cruise ship tour groups. Chica liked Nancy, but she believed her place was with Kitty, and Kitty felt the same way. Where Kitty went, so did Chica. Except to the bottom of the sea. Chica was highly trained, intelligent and more than a little psychic, but there were still some limitations to her abilities. Like using a self-contained underwater breathing apparatus.

  Chica nudged Kitty’s hand to show she was mostly forgiven, then moved to a spot in the shade a few feet away. Kitty tried not to feel hurt. A guide dog never left her person, but this trip had been tough for Chica as Kitty spent most of her time exploring without her. Every now and then, it seemed Chica preferred to have a little distance between them. Or maybe Kitty was imagining it all, and Chica was simply trying to get out of the sun and closer to whatever was roasting on the little stove.

  Today, the dive shop crew had brought them out on a large, modern dive boat named Freedom II. The deck was crowded with the stacks of air tanks and safety gear, but the associate dive master, Angelina, still made room for Chica wherever she went. Which, at the moment, was right where Angelina was trying to prepare lunch. Kitty couldn’t help liking Angelina for that.

  “Did you see that spotted eagle ray?” a friendly voice asked. Kitty turned to see Ren, a college student from Vermont, sitting down beside her. His dark hair was damp at the temples and he still wore his thick diving gloves. Tugging them off, he opened a small bag of M&M candies. He offered her one, and she shook her head.

  “No, thank you. And yes, right after a sharp-nosed puffer fish.”

  “I missed that one,” he said, sounding disappointed. “Jenny!” he called to his girlfriend who was sitting at the other end of the boat. “Did you see the sharp-nosed puffer fish?”

  “Yeah. You were looking at the basket starfish, but I got some pictures before it went back into the coral.” She held up her GoPro. Kitty was regretting her decision not to purchase one, too. Besides being waterproof, it seemed very easy to use, which had been her biggest reservation. Jenny had shown her the settings and it didn’t look any harder to navigate than Kitty’s cell phone. She wasn’t tech illiterate by any means, but she avoided spending a lot of time learning new systems. Kitty believed that if it wasn’t broke, don’t spend a lot of money and time to fix it.

  “Awesome.” Ren grinned. “I think we’ve got almost everything we came to see now. Just need the spotlight parrotfish, lesser electric ray and honeycombed cowfish crossed off our list.”

  “Electric ray? I thought those were dangerous.”

  “Naw. The lesser rays can give a shock of about two hundred and twenty volts, but they won’t kill an adult.” He paused. “A healthy adult, I mean.”

  “I admire you guys for being so organized. I’m still learning the names of what I’m looking at down there.”

  “Well, as marine biology majors we have an ulterior motive, you know. Our summer project is worth ten credits. Jenny has been here before and said we’d be able to find what we needed in just a few days.” Ren glanced around, as if to make sure the dive master and crew weren’t listening. “Coleman said we were gonna visit Punta Molas and Las Brisas, but he keeps coming back to this one. We need to change locations for our project, but I’m afraid to bring it up. I tried to talk to him about it yesterday and he yelled at me for being a pain in his―” He stopped talking abruptly as Coleman appeared at the stern. Lowering his voice even more, Ren said, “Anyway, I’m trying not to be a problem, but we really need to go there.”

  Kitty grimaced. Coleman Larson, the dive master and owner of the dive shop, seemed like he was in need of a vacation of his own, far away from the reefs of Cozumel. He wasn’t simply unfriendly. He was impatient, gruff, and tended to disappear when he was most needed. She’d heard rumors that he was a ladies’ man, but Kitty couldn’t imagine what woman would want to be with such an unpleasant person. Although he seemed to avoid his tour groups, he also spent hours lecturing them on the pollution that was ruining the marine ecosystem. He would get so angry describing how the cruise companies were complicit in the destruction that Kitty could see his scalp turn red through his gray buzz cut. Kitty had read about the conflict between locals and cruise operators before, but she’d assumed it was far behind them after the construction of the half-mile long dock from the beach to a docking area far from the reef. Apparently, it was not. Coleman was livid about the recent construction and said it had been pushed through with bribery and illegal activity. Kitty decided not to volunteer that she worked for the cruise industry. If Coleman was that angry at the industry in general, she wondered what he’d do to a cruise employee standing in front of him.

  So, aside from his personality and passion for protecting the reefs, Kitty didn’t know much more about the man. Kitty had won the scuba trip while playing Bingo on her last cruise, and she knew the luxury cruise company wouldn’t have chosen Coleman if he wasn’t one of the best in Cozumel.

  “If it’s on the itinerary, we should be going out there. Maybe you could ask Mark?” she suggested. Coleman’s nephew, Mark, spent a lot of time smoothing ruffled feathers and making sure the tourists were happy. Although the sign said ‘Coleman’s Scuba Shack’, it was clear that Mark held more sway―and more responsibility― than any of the other assistants. Kitty didn’t think it was just because they were related. Coleman didn’t seem the type of person to find that very important.

  “I should. We only have one more day and we’ve been to this spot three times now. Jenny and I chose this tour just because it had those sites on the list. Not a lot of scuba groups will take the time to go that far north, unless they’re just going to paddle around and take pictures of the lighthouse.”

  Kitty considered offering to ask the prickl
y instructor, but decided against it. She probably wouldn’t have any better luck than Ren. Sure, Coleman seemed to think the college kids were more hassle than they were worth, but he hadn’t been very happy to see Kitty’s service dog, either. In fact, it didn’t seem like there was anyone in their small group that Coleman hadn’t disliked on sight.

  “Let’s see what he says at tonight’s meeting,” Kitty said. “And if it sounds like we’re coming back here, you should bring it up to Mark.”

  “You’re right.” Ren smiled and Kitty thought about how carefree he seemed. Jenny was probably about the same age, but was a little more guarded, while Ren appeared to consider everyone a friend until he was proven wrong. “I better go back to Jenny. Sometimes that guy from Texas won’t take a hint.”

  Kitty watched him walk back across the deck to where his girlfriend was doing her best to ignore the man beside her. Andrew Rex was tall, with silver hair and a thick accent, and apparently had trouble grasping the moment when a woman was giving him the cold shoulder. Or maybe he just didn’t care whether he was wanted because as Ren sat down on Jenny’s other side, Andrew didn’t stop talking.

  Kitty watched them for a few moments, feeling a curious detachment. She was so used to being in charge of a tour group and shouldering the burden of the happiness. Now the bad behavior of other tour members really wasn’t any of her responsibility. It was rather refreshing.

  Across from Ren, Jenny, and Andrew, the other three members of their group were struggling to remove their gear. The three middle aged women were on a trip to celebrate their twentieth high school reunion and all seemed nice enough. They bragged about their kids, complained about their husbands, and reminisced about old times. Lisa was the loudest and was never without her bright red lipstick. It amused Kitty that Lisa applied her lipstick the moment they came up from the boat and she took off her breathing apparatus. Her dark bob was sleek and stylish, and her nails were brightly manicured. Joan was shorter, rounder, and quieter. Her reddish blond hair didn’t like the humid air and she complained, although in a polite and subdued way, about her untamable mane. She’d already tried several products available on the island but had given up, taking to tying it back as tightly as possible. Christina was tall, had a raucous laugh and spoke in a voice that reminded Kitty of a cartoon character. When she’d first heard Christina speak, Kitty had thought the woman was putting on an act, but if it was, she hadn’t let it drop for a second.

  The three women usually drank too much wine after dinner and therefore were always the last out of bed in the morning, but Kitty tried to think positively. They were committed to enjoying themselves, and that was rare in a world filled with complainers. Besides, Kitty would probably act the same way if she had two good friends to take on her vacation. Chica was her best friend, but they certainly weren’t going to stay up late finishing off a bottle of wine together.

  When Kitty caught herself annoyed with the gales of laughter or empty wine bottles littering the outside dining area, she reminded herself that once upon a time she, too, had laughed until she cried and stayed up much too late telling stories. She didn’t want to begrudge anybody a little happiness when the world was full of heartache. There were worse things than being happy.

  Angelina stepped into her view. “Are you the vegetarian? I didn’t know if you wanted the teriyaki tofu or the plain with black bean sauce,” she said, a spatula in one hand and an oven mitt on the other.

  “No, not me. But Chica is,” Kitty said.

  “Es verdad?” Her brown eyes went wide. “I’ve never known a vegetarian dog. She’s so smart. She must be very… how do you say? Evolved.”

  “No. I was just kidding.” Kitty wanted to mention that Chica was indeed the smartest dog she’d ever known, and psychic as well, but she didn’t want to seem any crazier than she already did. “She’s been hanging around your little kitchen since you started making lunch. I’m sorry she’s been underfoot. She doesn’t usually move that far from my side.”

  “Oh, not a problem. Maybe she’s mad because you didn’t take her diving?” Angelina smiled as she turned to find the vegetarian in the group.

  Kitty narrowed her eyes at Chica. She was only a few feet away, but she wasn’t giving Kitty any attention at all. Whatever was in the pan was either the most delicious sausage ever fried in Chica’s presence, or she was still mad at Kitty.

  Stripping off her wet suit, she pulled a long, white cover-up over the dark blue one-piece she’d bought to wear under her gear. Hanging her wet suit on the hook, she settled back onto the bench and pulled out the book she’d brought along for the trip. She’d left her prized first edition copy of The Scarlet Letter back at the bookstore, but the leather bound volume she held, with its gilt edges and inked endpapers, were enough to make Kitty sigh with happiness. There was no better way to pass the time than rereading a favorite book. Some found Nathaniel Hawthorne too wordy, but to Kitty, his phrasing was just the thing to occupy her mind whether she was snug in her bed, or waiting for lunch in the middle of the sparkling sea.

  Just as Kitty opened the book and found her place, Andrew plopped himself onto her bench. As she looked up and gave him a polite smile, she wondered if he felt a Texas gentleman’s sort of obligation to entertain every woman who was sitting by her lonesome. But she wasn’t alone. She had a book.

  “Howdy!” Andrew had a cheerful, gregarious manner but when he smiled, Kitty always felt like he was making too much of an effort to show off his teeth. She really didn’t need to see them all. The front ten or twelve were enough.

  “Hello, Andrew. Did you enjoy the dive?”

  “Sure did. Best ever. Even though we’ve been here a few times now. I think we gotta move on, don’t you?”

  Kitty nodded. Maybe Ren wouldn’t have to speak to Coleman or Mark about it after all. Maybe the group would unite as one and insist on moving to Punta Molas for the last day. “I’ve heard the lighthouse there is very pretty.”

  “Forget the lighthouse.” Andrew leaned close, his grizzled grey beard inches from her face. “There’s treasure in that reef.”

  “Really? I hadn’t heard.”

  He glanced around. “Came out in a dive magazine a few months ago. Some lucky dog found a few gold coins and they traced them to a wrecked Spanish supply ship from eighteen hundred and something. The locals are trying to keep out the tourists. Everybody’s trying to find it.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  Treasure. Kitty felt a surge of adrenaline, the same feeling she had when she sat down to play Bingo on the ship. It was her mild addiction to gambling and games of chance.

  The next moment, she shook off the sudden urge to run to Punta Molas and look for gold coins. If the locals hadn’t found it by now, she certainly wouldn’t. She’d only been diving a few days and knew nothing about the area.

  Then again, Chica had an uncanny ability to sniff out lost or stolen items. She’d also saved Kitty’s life several times by anticipating violent attempts on her life. Maybe Chica could lead her to the treasure.

  Andrew followed Kitty’s gaze and said, “Beautiful dog you got there. I didn’t know they let dogs on these dives.”

  Kitty knew what he was asking, since he witnessed Coleman’s refusal for Chica to come on the boat. Kitty had been forced to bring out Chica’s papers and the dive shop’s own agreement regarding service animals. She dodged the question by saying, “I don’t think they would if they didn’t have to, but I’m glad Angelina has been so kind to her while I’ve been exploring the reefs.”

  He wasn’t going to be put off his line of questioning. “So, you said she was a service dog. What does she do?”

  Kitty knew his real question was why she needed Chica. It was a question she’d faced many times in her life when she traveled alone with Chica. Outwardly, there was nothing wrong with Kitty, aside from a perpetually sunburned nose and slightly uncontrollable brown hair. It was only when she translated for a hearing impaired cruise ship group that she wasn’t questioned
about her dog. Then, and only then, Chica was accepted for who she was and the job she had to do.

  “She’s trained to assist the hearing impaired. I’m a translator. That’s what I do when I’m not on vacation. I’m headed back to work on Monday, actually.”

  He frowned. “Hearing impaired? You’re not deaf, are you? Or do you have one of those implant things?”

  Kitty looked out at the water for a second, composing her thoughts. She should be used to the questions, used to the judgments and assumptions. But she wasn’t. “Not every deaf person travels with a service animal, and Chica is trained to help large groups. She can alert anyone she’s assigned to, and she can work independently from me.” Except when Kitty went on a scuba diving vacation and then Chica seemed to get a little resentful at being left out.

  “But you don’t need to bring her with you when you’re not on duty, right? She could have stayed at the dive shop.”

  Kitty knew that Andrew didn’t mean anything by his suggestion, but it still irritated her that she had to defend Chica’s presence. She wasn’t the kind of person who ordered a fake badge off the internet so she could take her dog grocery shopping. Andrew had no idea that Chica was a great asset to have in his corner if his life was ever in danger. In fact, Chica was probably more useful in a crisis than most humans.

  “True, she could have. But she’s also very valuable and I didn’t feel that I should leave her alone so long. A highly trained service dog could be useful to a lot of thieves,” she said. Not that Chica would ever, ever go to the dark side. She was a law-abiding dog of the highest order.

  Andrew made a skeptical sound and shrugged. He seemed to be holding his tongue, which was a pleasant change.

  Not everybody loved dogs, or even liked them. Kitty understood that. She wouldn’t expect someone to immediately take to Chica, just as she wouldn’t expect someone to feel affection for a stranger’s baby. But she just couldn’t help feeling warmly toward anybody who was kind to children or animals. It was her own bias shining through. Andrew’s inability to understand why Kitty wanted Chica along for the day wasn’t helping Kitty feel more affection for the man.

 

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