"It doesn't work like that here, unless you let the police get to them first," Dani said.
"What? You've lost me."
"That's okay. We have some resources and latitude that the police don't have."
"You're starting to scare me," Ed said.
Liz saw the muscles in Dani's jaw twitch. "We'll find her, Ed," Liz said. "This is Dani's home turf. Trust her."
****
"They have her," Li Wong said. "They're headed for Hillsborough, Carriacou."
"Why there?" the Dragon Lady asked, her cold gaze fixed on the bridge of Wong's nose as she inhaled cigarette smoke.
"Lotus Blossom is there," he said, his fingers twitching as he picked at the legs of his trousers.
"Not there. I don't like it."
"But they need to — "
"They need to do as I say," she said, removing the six-inch-long cigarette holder from her lips and tapping the ash in the carved jade bowl on her desk. "And so do you, my little one." She gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Of course, madame," he said, bowing his head. "I only wanted — "
"Call them immediately. Have them make the handoff inside the reef at Petite Martinique, well away from the town. Lotus Blossom must not anchor; as soon as she is aboard, have them put out to sea. They should take up a position 15 miles to the west, over the horizon."
"Yes, Madame. I'll call them immediately," Wong said, rising to his feet.
"Wong?"
"Yes, Madame?"
"I want you aboard Lotus Blossom as soon as possible. I'd prefer that you were there for the handoff. One of the men can run you down to Hillsborough in the Donzi. Order Lotus Blossom to wait for you. They are not to make the rendezvous without you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Madame."
"I'm holding you personally responsible for the girl. She is not to be touched without my order. Do not disappoint me."
He chewed the inside of his cheek as he waited to see if she was finished. When she raised the cigarette holder to her carefully made-up lips and nodded at the door, he gave a slight bow and scurried away.
****
Cynthia had managed to roll onto her side and push herself up against a portable ice chest to keep her face out of the foul-smelling water that sloshed in the bilge of the wooden speedboat. She could feel the bruises on her hip and shoulder from the pounding of the boat as it raced over the choppy water.
The smaller, more light-skinned of her captors had zip-tied her wrists behind her and then zip-tied her ankles before forcing her into a face-down position, all while his partner drove the boat at breakneck speed. Her skin crawled at the recollection of his callused hands stroking her thighs and buttocks as he cackled.
She shivered at the thought of what they might do to her. She kept her eyes half-closed against the blazing sunlight and studied the two men. Both were rough-looking, but the driver was the more muscular of the two.
The smaller man, the one who had tied her up and fondled her, was wiry. His muscles didn't bulge, but they moved like pieces of rope beneath his smooth, bronze skin. From his straight, dark hair, oiled and pulled back in a short ponytail, and his chiseled features, she thought he was of East Indian extraction.
The driver was several shades darker, but he too, looked to be of Indian descent. She guessed he weighed half again as much as the smaller man, but from their faces, they could be brothers. It alarmed her that they made no effort to keep her from seeing their faces. She'd read enough crime books to know what that meant.
She saw the smaller man turn toward her. Seeing that she had moved, he nudged her with a foot to her thigh and caught her eye. He made a kissing movement with his well-shaped lips and grinned at her, running his tongue over his lips as he swept his eyes over her exposed body. She cursed the skimpy bikini that she wore, wishing that she had worn a one-piece bathing suit.
The small man nudged the driver and said something to him. The big man looked back at her and grinned, nodding. He said something to his companion, but she couldn't hear the comment over the roar of the two big outboards. They both laughed, and the smaller one reached into the cooler at her back and took out two cans of beer. He leered at her again before he popped the tops and handed one to the driver.
While they were occupied with their beers and whatever conversation they were having, she felt behind her. She was able to move her hands and fingers enough to find a sharp edge on the piece of scrap metal that she thought must serve as an anchor, based on the glimpse she caught as they pushed her down into the bilge earlier. She twisted her body until she was able to press the zip-tie around her wrists against the edge. She worked it up and down with a sawing motion, feeling the plastic tie begin to loosen.
Chapter 13
Before she called Phillip, Dani considered how to manage the conversation to keep Ed from learning of Cynthia's drug purchase. It was a trivial issue, but her instincts told her the less Ed knew about it, the better. She made the call, and when Phillip answered, she said, "One of our charter guests has been kidnapped, Phillip," in a soft tone, the phone held close to her lips.
"The girl? Or her father?" Phillip asked, remembering their earlier conversation.
"The guests are a single father and his 16-year-old daughter," she said, hoping he would get the idea that she couldn't speak freely.
"You told me that yesterday," Phillip said. "Who got kidnapped?"
"No," she said, persisting, "I really have no idea why, but two men ran a speedboat between them while they were snorkeling on Horseshoe Reef, here in the Tobago Cays. They pulled her into the boat and told her father to wait for a call. They said, 'If you ever want to see her again, wait for our instructions or we'll sell her to the Arabs,' and then they took off through the cut in the reef. They cut the dinghy adrift to keep him from getting back to Vengeance."
"Probably the drug dealers," Phillip said.
"I'm not sure what you mean by drug dealers," Dani said.
"Is the father listening to you?" Phillip asked, finally realizing that she was trying to hide something.
"Yes."
"Have you told him about the girl buying drugs?" Phillip asked.
"No. I need to know something Phillip."
"Need to know? You mean he doesn't need to know? You don't want to tell him about the drugs?"
"Right."
"Okay. Got it. Go ahead."
"The father, that's Ed Savage, wants to involve the police. I've explained why that might be dangerous to the girl, given that we don't know who to trust. I thought maybe you'd let the Chief Super know what's happening, if you think that's okay."
"Let me think about that. Are you thinking of handling this without the police?"
"I thought that might be a good idea," Dani said.
"Yes, probably so," Phillip said. "Any idea on where to start?"
"I asked around among the vendors in the Cays. They saw the boat. It's a yellow 24-footer with two 250-horsepower Yamahas. Registration on the bow was TFT 4868."
"Trinidad," Phillip muttered.
"Yes. Anything we can learn about it might help."
"I'll see what Sandrine can find out through the customs channels, but the quickest way to find them is probably to sic Sharktooth on it. Want me to call him?"
"Yes, please. Fill him in on what you know, and ask him to call me."
"You want me to tell him the whole story?"
"Please."
"Got it. I'll get him to give you a call ASAP."
"Thanks, Phillip. I'll wait for his call. Tell Sandrine hello from both of us." She listened to Phillip’s goodbye and disconnected the phone.
"What did he say?" Ed asked, as Dani put the satellite phone on the cockpit seat beside her.
"He's going to call a friend of his who's the Chief Superintendent of the police force here," Dani said, casting a warning glance in Liz's direction.
"That's a relief," Ed said. "I'll feel better with the cops working this."
"Well,
he's going to cover us with the police, but he thinks we'll be better off on our own."
"I don't get it," Ed said, frowning. "If he thinks they're part of it, why would he call this guy?"
"He knows the Chief's not part of it, but remember, in a fast boat, you can slip from country to country in a few minutes down here. Corruption is everywhere, and even the honest police can get all tangled up in politics when they go outside their own country."
Ed caught his lower lip between his teeth and looked down into the footwell of the cockpit for a moment. Looking up at Dani, he shook his head and said, "I gather someone's going to call you. Is that this Chief Superintendent?"
"No. Another friend who has an informal network of people all through the islands."
"What kind of network?"
"One that operates on personal loyalty instead of politics."
"That's pretty damned vague, Dani. How's that going to get Cynthia back?"
"First, we'll find those two guys with the boat, wherever they are."
"Okay, I can see where that might happen, but then what?"
"Then we'll — " She was interrupted by the ringing of the satellite phone. "Excuse me," she said, picking it up and looking at the display.
"Good morning, Sharktooth," she said, as she lifted the phone to her ear.
****
Cynthia felt the boat slowing down as the roar of the big outboards decreased. She had managed to free her hands by cutting the zip-ties at her wrists. She had kept them behind her lest her captors notice, so her ankles were still bound. She was sunburned to the point of pain, and her spine tingled with anxiety about what might happen when the boat stopped. Her thoughts were interrupted when the slight man crouched beside her, grinning.
She flinched as he cupped the back of her head in his left hand; he laughed and pried her jaw open, shoving a wad of dirty rags into her mouth. He wrapped a strip of cloth around her head and tied it in place to hold the gag.
Her eyes wide now, she braced herself. She had just decided to claw his face when he rose from his crouch and covered her with a heavy canvas tarp. The fabric abraded her sunburned skin as he pulled it over her, cutting off her view. The tarp was coarse and stiff, crusted with filth and reeking of dead fish.
The boat slowed to an idle, and she felt it bump to a stop against something solid. She heard a voice that didn't sound like either of her captors ask, "Gasoline?"
"Yeah, mon," the larger of her captors answered.
She felt the boat shift as one of the men climbed out of it. Something was dragged across the canvas tarp over her torso, coming to rest on her shoulder. She heard a gurgling sound and smelled gasoline.
She thought about removing her gag, uncovering herself, and yelling for help, but before she could act, she heard the pump cut off. What she now realized was the fuel hose was lifted from the tarp across her shoulder. Careful not to move the tarp, she brought her right hand up to the gag and began to work at the knot. Then the boat shifted again.
"We're going to go get some food," the larger man said, from several feet above her. She surmised that he was on the dock. "You want us to move the boat?"
"How long you t'ink you be?" the unfamiliar voice asked.
"Maybe one hour," the smaller man's voice said, from the boat.
"No longer than that," the larger of her captors agreed.
"Jus' leave it here, then. Nobody gon' want fuel fo' several hours, 'til the fishermen come in," the unfamiliar voice said.
The boat shifted again as the smaller man climbed out. Cynthia listened to the creaking of boards, picturing the men walking away along a dock of some kind as the sound of their voices faded. She forced herself to wait, counting off what she thought was five minutes while she untied the gag.
She dug the rags out of her mouth and restrained her urge to vomit as she shifted her position so that she could push the zip-tie around her ankles against the makeshift anchor. With one solid thrust with her leg muscles, she freed herself.
Poking her head out from under the tarp, she peered around. Satisfied that she was unobserved, she slithered out from under the tarp and rose to a crouch in the boat. As she had thought, the boat was tied alongside a fuel dock. The dock was a prominent feature of the waterfront in a small town, from what she could see.
A hundred yards from the dock, there was a white sand beach. Above the high-water mark, children in uniforms played kickball in a fenced schoolyard. Two nuns supervised the children.
She could see a structure where the dock reached the shore, and from the beer posters on the wall facing her, she guessed that it might be a bar, perhaps a restaurant. She didn't dare walk down the dock past it for fear that her captors were having lunch there. She slipped over the side of the boat into the water and swam to the beach, deciding to approach the nuns and ask for their help.
An unnerving silence settled over the children on the playground as she approached, self-conscious about her skimpy bikini. Ignoring the glare from the older of the two nuns, she approached the younger one. The children drew back, hiding behind the older nun.
"Good afternoon, sister," she said.
The woman nodded slightly, holding her gaze.
"I'm in trouble; I need your help."
The nun's eyes dropped briefly as she studied Cynthia. After a moment, she nodded.
"Come," the nun said. "First, you must cover yourself. Then we can talk." She turned and began to walk toward a breezeway that connected the schoolhouse to a smaller structure. She opened a door and stood back, gesturing for Cynthia to enter.
Cynthia stepped through the door into a small, clean room with a table and four chairs. She took in the crucifix on the whitewashed wall as her hostess opened a roughly built, unpainted cabinet. The nun turned, a folded garment of white cotton in her hands.
"Put this on for now; we'll find something else in a bit."
Cynthia unfolded the soft, worn cloth to find that it was a spotless, simple shift, several sizes too large for her. Grateful, she slipped it over her head. "Thank you, sister," she said.
"You're welcome," the nun said, her face softening into a smile. "What's wrong?"
****
Frankie Chaterji was about to order another round of beer when his cell phone vibrated against his thigh. He and his cousin Kumar were almost finished with their lunch of curried mutton; he thought about ignoring the call. Glancing at the clock on the wall of the ramshackle snack bar, he realized that this call might be Li Wong, ready to take the girl off their hands.
He slipped the phone from the pocket of his ratty jeans. A look at the screen confirmed his suspicion. "Yeah?" he said, touching the connect icon.
"Frankie?"
"Yeah, Wong. Where are you, mon?"
"Lotus Blossom is just inside the reef. Bring her to me, now."
Frankie, annoyed that Wong hung up after issuing the abrupt order, put the phone back in his pocket and took a last sip of his beer. "Fucking freak," he muttered.
"What did he want?" Kumar asked.
"Bring him the girl. They are out in the harbor at Carriacou."
"Let's go, then. He gonna pay us now?"
"He damn well better, or we'll keep her and have a little fun," Frankie said.
Kumar stood up, grinning at that thought, and put a 50-dollar E.C. note on the table. He headed back down the dock to their boat, Frankie on his heels, mumbling under his breath.
"Shit!" Kumar said, seeing their empty boat. "Little bitch is gone."
"She cannot be too far," Frankie said. "Small island."
"The fuck are we going to do?" Kumar asked.
"We must find her, mon. I will call Wong, buy us some time." Frankie extracted his phone and called Wong back.
"The girl got away while we were eating lunch," he said when Wong answered. "Give us a few — " He listened for a moment, looked down at the phone, and put it in his pocket.
"What did he say?" Kumar asked.
"He said we are to come get him; he bitc
hed about how we are good for nothing. He will fix it himself."
Kumar frowned. "Best we go get him, I think." He stepped down into the boat and began untying the dock lines as Frankie clambered aboard.
Chapter 14
"How long ago did this happen?" the priest asked, sitting across the table from Cynthia in the whitewashed room with the crucifix on the wall. The young nun put a mug of tea in front of each of them and sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs.
"It was this morning, after we had breakfast. It couldn't have been much later than 8:30, Father," Cynthia said.
The priest glanced at his watch. "It's 1:30," he said. "Your father saw this happen?"
"Yes," Cynthia said. "Like I said, we were — "
"I'm sorry. You did say the two of you were swimming together, but how close were you to him? Would he have noticed immediately?"
"I'm sure he would have, Father. We were a few yards apart, if that. They drove the boat between us. He would have had to notice right then."
"Yes, I see. So he must have raised the alarm by now. Do you know if the yacht was in cell phone range? Could he have called the police?"
"They have a satellite phone; it works everywhere, Dani told me."
"Dani?"
"The captain."
"And these two men who kidnapped you, are they still on the island?"
"I don't know, Father. They were going to get lunch, I think. That's when I escaped. That was only a few minutes ago, so they probably are. Why?" Cynthia asked, frowning.
"I'm worried that they may be looking for you. I'm trying to think of how to keep you safe."
"What about the police?" Cynthia asked.
The priest and the nun looked at one another for a moment.
"You have no idea why they took you?" the priest asked, breaking a silence of half a minute.
Cynthia shook her head, becoming exasperated. "No, but why would that matter?"
"Have you been involved with any locals?" he asked, then, seeing the flush rise on Cynthia's cheeks, he continued. "I don't mean in a personal way, my child."
"I don't understand, Father."
Bluewater Ganja: The Ninth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 9) Page 7