Bluewater Ganja: The Ninth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 9)

by Charles Dougherty

  "Did you get involved with any of the drug people, Cynthia?" the young nun asked.

  "N-no," Cynthia said, clenching her fists under the table.

  "We aren't judging you, child," the priest said in a soft tone. "It's just that sometimes the police aren't, um ... "

  "You think they may be crooked?" she asked.

  "That's another judgment we shouldn't make. Things can be difficult in a poor country, though. Their ability to protect you from certain types of people may be compromised."

  "Well," Cynthia said, "I have to do something. If I just hide here, they'll find me. My father's a lawyer. I'm sure by now he will have gone to the authorities. That's the way his mind works."

  The priest nodded, stroking his chin with his hand. After a moment, he said, "Okay, then. If he's raised the alarm, the police almost have to react appropriately, I think. There would be too much scrutiny otherwise. Sister, why don't you call Constable Jones, while Cynthia and I drink our tea?"

  The young nun rose from her chair and nodded, leaving the room.

  ****

  "Who is this 'Sharktooth' character?" Ed asked, when Dani disconnected the call and returned the phone to the cockpit seat.

  "He's a character, all right," Liz said.

  "You'll meet him, soon enough," Dani said. "He'll be here in 45 minutes or so."

  "That fast?" Liz asked, eyebrows raised.

  "He was in St. Lucia when he called. Visiting some relatives, I guess," Dani said.

  "That's a long way, isn't it?" Ed asked.

  "Maybe 70 miles," Dani said, "depending on where exactly he was, but he'd already started this way before he called."

  "Is he a private pilot or something?" Ed asked "How can he get here that quickly?"

  "No," Dani said. "He doesn't like airplanes, but he's got an extra-fast boat."

  "He must. You're talking about nearly a hundred miles per hour."

  Dani grinned. "Oh, it's faster than that. It's a Cigarette Marauder, with over three thousand horsepower."

  "Does he race it or something?"

  "Or something. It's better not to ask him too many questions about it."

  "What does he do? Why's he coming?"

  "He's coming to help us find the two guys from Trinidad. He's another of my father's partners. He's already put out the word on those two to his network. I'd be surprised if he hasn't located them by the time he gets here."

  "What does your father do?"

  "He's in the import/export business. He brokers all kinds of deals, mostly for heavy equipment, government projects, that kind of thing."

  Ed studied her for a moment, maintaining eye contact as he waited. When she didn't say anything else after a full minute, he looked away. "What happens when he gets here?" he asked, after another long silence.

  "We'll take Lightning Bolt to wherever those two jerks are and ask them a few questions," Dani said.

  "We?" Ed asked.

  "Sharktooth and I," Dani said. "You and Liz can stay here in case they call."

  He shook his head. "I'm coming," he said.

  "You're out of your depth. At best, you'd be in the way, and at worst, you could get hurt."

  His face flushed and he jumped to his feet, towering over her as she sat on the cockpit seat.

  "Now you listen to me, young woman."

  With no apparent effort and little motion, Dani hooked a foot behind his ankle and raised her right hand, pushing stiffened fingers into his solar plexus. He gasped and sat down, hard.

  "Don't try to throw your weight around, Ed. I'm on your side, but your boxing coach was right. You don't have the killer instinct."

  He glared at her for a moment. "And you and this Sharktooth guy do, I guess?"

  "We've — "

  Liz stepped between them. "Everybody's upset. Let's remember who the bad guys are. We're going to get Cynthia back. That's what matters."

  "What if they don't have her any longer? How will you get them to talk?"

  "Sharktooth is a persuasive man," Liz said. "Trust us. They'll tell him everything they know. Wait until you see him. Then if you don't think you're in good hands, we'll talk some more."

  ****

  Cynthia and the priest sat next to one another in a small conference room at the police station, a young-looking constable in an immaculate, heavily starched uniform on the other side of the table.

  She had just finished explaining what had happened to her. The policeman had listened without saying anything, making notes on a pad of ruled paper.

  "Have you found the men in the yellow boat, constable?" the priest asked.

  "No. They were eating lunch at the snackette at the fuel dock, as Miss Savage surmised. They got a phone call as they were finishing, and they left in a hurry. This would have been just a few minutes before Sister DeMontfort called me."

  He flipped back through a couple of pages, read and underlined something, and looked up. "I'm very sorry this has happened to you, Miss Savage. It is an embarrassment to my country. I think the firs' thing we mus' do is get in touch with your father."

  Cynthia's eager look reflected her relief. "Yes, please," she said.

  "Do you know if this yacht, Vengeance, has a satellite phone?"

  "Yes, they do."

  "And would you have the number?"

  "No. Only my father's cell phone number."

  "Mm," he said. "Cell phones don't usually work out there in the Cays. I'm puzzled about one thing, though."

  "What's that, constable," the priest asked.

  "When Sister DeMontfort called, the firs' t'ing I did was to check wit' St. Vincent to see if your father had made a report. I thought surely he would have; it had already been some hours. When I found that he had not, I thought they mus' not have a satellite phone. Even so, they could have used the VHF radio."

  "What are you getting at, Constable?" the priest asked, reaching out to pat Cynthia's hand as she fidgeted.

  "I don't know; I am some confused about how to reach the yacht. I have — "

  He was interrupted by a knock on the door. A questioning look on his face, he stood and turned, opening the door.

  "Good day, Constable Jones."

  "Good day, Mr. Wong. Excuse me sir, but I am — "

  "Yes, yes, I know. I just spoke with Sister DeMontfort. Perhaps I can help. May I join you?"

  "Yes, of course. Please come in," the constable said, ushering a dwarf with Oriental features into the room and holding the fourth chair for him to sit down.

  "Good day, Mr. Wong," the priest said.

  "Thank you, Father, and the same to you."

  "Miss Savage," the priest said, turning in his chair, "allow me to introduce our good friend, Mr. Li Wong."

  "Hello, Mr. Wong," Cynthia said.

  "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Savage."

  "Mr. Wong and his employer, Madame Chen, have been most generous in their support of our poor parish, Cynthia," the priest said. "Without their contributions, I'm not sure we could keep the school open, let alone provide books and supplies for the pupils."

  "It's our privilege to support you in your work, Father," Wong said. "Lotus Blossom is anchored in the harbor at Hillsborough. I'm on the way back to St. Vincent from Grenada, and I came over to Petite Martinique in the tender to call at the convent while the crew took care of some minor engine maintenance. Sister DeMontfort told me about what happened. I wanted to offer Miss Savage the use of Lotus Blossom to return to her father and the yacht, Vengeance, I think it is."

  "That's most kind of you Mr. Wong," Cynthia said.

  "What a fortunate t'ing," the constable said. "We were just trying to find a way to get in touch with the yacht."

  "The Lord works in mysterious ways," the priest said, crossing himself.

  "When can we leave, Mr. Wong?" Cynthia asked.

  "The tender is waiting to pick us up at the fuel dock and take us to Lotus Blossom."

  Chapter 15

  Dani turned her head to the side, cupping a han
d behind her right ear. "I think that's Lightning Bolt, running with open exhausts."

  On her cue, the others heard a low-pitched whine that increased to a throaty roar in a matter of seconds. As Liz pointed at a plume of spray on the horizon to the north, it vanished and the sound abated.

  "He just throttled back and cut in the mufflers," Dani said, getting up to rig fenders along the port side of Vengeance as a long, low, speedboat threaded its way through the anchorage.

  Ed watched as a giant Rasta man brought the boat alongside, letting it coast to a stop as it kissed the fenders. He handed Dani a bow line and vaulted over Vengeance's lifelines to make the stern of his boat fast. Once he cleated the line, he rose to his full height of almost seven feet and wrapped Dani in a hug that all but hid her from view as he lifted her from the deck.

  "Been way too long, ladies," he said, in a rumbling bass voice. He set Dani on her feet and turned to embrace Liz. "You got some food for me, Liz?"

  "Of course," Liz laughed. "Let me warm up some curried fish while you get acquainted with Ed."

  "Okay, but I eat it on the way. Those bad boys from Trinidad, they in Petite Martinique. We need to move quick."

  Dani said, "Ed Savage, meet our friend, Sharktooth."

  Ed got to his feet and reached out to shake hands. He flinched as his hand disappeared into Sharktooth's baseball-glove-sized paw, then grinned at the big man's gentle touch.

  "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Savage," Sharktooth said, withdrawing his typically limp, island handshake.

  "Ed will do just fine, but could you tell me your real name?"

  "People say Sharktooth, an' I answer. That's all a name good for." He locked eyes with Ed until the lawyer nodded and looked away.

  "Fair enough," Ed said. "Where is this Petite Martinique place?"

  "Petite Martinique," Liz said, handing Sharktooth a frosted glass of passion fruit juice through the companionway. "Curry will be just a minute."

  "Thank you," Sharktooth said.

  "How far is that?" Ed asked.

  "Jus' a few minutes," Sharktooth said.

  "I'm coming with you," Ed said.

  Sharktooth glanced at Dani. Seeing the look in her eyes, he turned back to Ed and shook his head. "No," he said.

  "I can't just sit back here and wait."

  Sharktooth studied him for a moment. "I see you worry 'bout your daughter. Bes' way you can help is stay here an' take the call from the bad people. Mebbe we find her in Petite Martinique, but mebbe not. Mus' cover all the possibilities."

  "But if she's in Petite Martinique — "

  Sharktooth held up his oversized hand, stopping Ed. "The two men were eating lunch at a snackette on the fuel dock. Their boat was tied up there, but nobody saw Cynthia. Cynthia? Right?"

  "Yes. Cynthia," Ed said. "But she must be there if they're there."

  "Mos' likely, they hide her somewhere before they go to Petite Martinique. Mebbe another islan', mebbe a boat. Petite Martinique a ver' small place. Bes' if you here to take that call. Nothin' you can do that me an' Dani can't do better by ourselves. We used to workin' together, you see. You don' wan' to slow us down some, do you?"

  "No, certainly not, but I — "

  "I can only imagine how you must feel, Ed," Dani said. "Believe me, we'll call you the minute we learn anything, okay?"

  Ed's lips pulled into a tight line, like a twisted scar across his lower face. He said, "Okay, but if they call ... "

  "Let us know. Sharktooth's satellite phone number is in our directory. Listen to what they have to say and focus on making a deal with them. Make them believe that's your only hope, okay?" Dani waited for him to speak, but he just nodded his agreement, his shoulders slumped.

  Liz handed Sharktooth a one-quart plastic container filled with steaming curry, a fork sticking out. "Let's go, Dani," he said, cradling the hot food in his hand as he rose to his feet.

  ****

  Ed watched as Dani and Sharktooth untied Lightning Bolt and jumped down into the boat, their movements coordinated like dance steps. Liz retrieved the fenders and stowed them.

  "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Juice?" she asked, pausing before she settled onto the cockpit seat across the table from him.

  "No, thanks. I'm okay for now," he said, his eyes following Sharktooth and Dani as the boat threaded its way through the anchorage and disappeared behind an island. "She's amazing," he said, a dreamy look on his face.

  Liz looked at him, wondering at the change in his attitude over the short time since Dani had knocked him back to his seat.

  "A beautiful woman, and so sure of herself," he said, smiling. "How long have you known her?"

  "We met a little over two years ago," Liz said.

  "I thought you'd probably known one another much longer, like since you were in college."

  "No. We met in Antigua, just a few weeks before we decided to buy Vengeance. I was on a sort of sabbatical, and Dani was between crew assignments."

  "Sabbatical? From work?"

  "Yes."

  "You have an English accent."

  "I got my secondary education at a girl's school in the U.K. I'm from Belgium, originally."

  "I see. And Dani's American?"

  "When it suits her," Liz said, smiling at the transparency of his questions.

  "What's that mean?"

  "Sometimes she doesn't want to be American. Mostly, she uses her U.S. citizenship because it allows us to have Vengeance flagged in the U.S."

  "Does she have a foreign passport, too?"

  Liz laughed. "Only an American would look at it as having a foreign passport. She's a French citizen, too, through her father."

  "Interesting. She told me she spent her summers in the islands, until she was old enough to crew on his charter yachts in the Mediterranean."

  Liz nodded and smiled.

  "So, I can't help but wonder," he said, getting to his point at last. "Are she and Sharktooth, uh ... "

  Liz chuckled, her suspicions about where his questions were leading confirmed. "Hardly," she said. "She's known him since she was a child; his wife used to take care of her sometimes when Sharktooth and her father were working together."

  "Oh, I see. Silly of me, but they just seemed so relaxed with one another, I ... well ... "

  Liz smiled. "I understand."

  "I don't mean to be nosy, but is there a man in her life? I mean ... "

  "She keeps that part of her life private, Ed."

  "Even from you? You seem like best friends."

  "Even from me."

  "I'm becoming quite fond of her, Liz, but she's hard to read sometimes."

  "She certainly can be," Liz agreed.

  "I don't want to push myself on her if she's ... um ... well, you see, I realize it could be awkward for her, me being a paying guest, and all. I just wanted a little guidance, so I wouldn't put her on the spot."

  Liz laughed. "Sorry, Ed. I'm not laughing at you; that's quite considerate of you. The irony of the situation tickled me."

  "Irony?"

  Liz thought for a moment, and then shook her head. "Your sensitivity is commendable, but it's unnecessary. Dani doesn't hold back; she'll let you know if you're out of line. The fact that you're paying the bills won't keep her from speaking her mind. I'm really not comfortable pursuing this topic further, if you don't mind."

  "I understand. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, and I appreciate your candor. You must think I'm a jerk, worrying about that kind of thing when my daughter's been kidnapped."

  "It's not my nature to make judgments like that, Ed. We all deal with stress differently. Agonizing over something you can't control never makes things better, and right now, all you can do is wait. I'm sure any distraction is better than dwelling on your anxiety."

  ****

  "This is awesome, Mr. Wong," Cynthia said, as one of the uniformed crew members helped her aboard Lotus Blossom from the tender. "I've never been on a yacht like this." She ran her right index finger along the gleaming
varnish on the teak rail and looked aft. "Is that a British flag?"

  Wong smiled and bowed slightly. "My employer believes in maintaining tradition. This yacht belonged to her father, back in the days when Hong Kong was a British Colony."

  "Does she still live there?"

  He shook his head. "No. She found doing business under the communists too difficult. She has been in St. Vincent for many years now."

  "What kind of business is she in?" Cynthia asked as Wong led her through a corridor paneled with deeply polished rosewood.

  "She's into many different businesses."

  "Is she aboard? Will I meet her?"

  He looked back over his shoulder and smiled up at her. "She's not aboard at the moment, but it's possible that you'll meet her. She's quite interested in you."

  "She's interested in me?"

  "And she knows your father must be anxious to be reunited with you." He had stopped in front of a cabin door; he stood looking up at her, studying her face for a moment. "You look perplexed."

  "How does she know about me? Or my father?"

  "Ah, yes. Of course, I see now why you are puzzled. I called her before I volunteered the use of Lotus Blossom to reunite you and your father, to be sure that the delay wouldn't be a problem to her."

  He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. Cynthia paused in the doorway as she took in the grandeur of the stateroom.

  "Oh!" she said. "It's gorgeous. This is bigger than my room at home; I had no idea that yachts were like this."

  Wong smiled at her. "Please," he said. "Make yourself comfortable. This is Madame Chen's cabin; she suggested that you use it as your own. You may wish to shower and freshen up." He sniffed, wrinkling his nose, and ran his eyes over the white cotton shift. "There will be a selection of toiletries in the head, and I'll have a stewardess lay out some clean clothing on the bed for you."

  "That would be great, Mr. Wong. I don't know how to thank you."

  "Perhaps someday you'll be in a position to pass on the favor, Miss Savage. If you need anything, just use the bell-pull beside the bed to call the stewardess."

  He bowed slightly and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

  Cynthia went into the bath and turned on the shower, stripping off the shift and her foul-smelling bikini as she waited for the water to heat up.