Bluewater Ice: The Fourth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 4)

by Charles Dougherty

Liz returned her attention to the groceries, making sure that she had everything they would need for the trip back north to St. Martin, where she could find a good selection of food at better prices than here in Martinique.

  ****

  The barracuda was motionless, suspended at the edge of Dani's peripheral vision. Although focused on her task, she was conscious of his presence. The creature was large for his kind, and she was invading his territory, but they were comfortable with each other. When she had first slipped into the water at the stern of Vengeance, she and the barracuda had eyed one another. In spite of their teeth and reputation, Dani didn't consider barracudas a threat. They weren't shy, but neither were they aggressive. As she went about scraping the accumulated marine growth from the propeller, the big predator hung in the water watching the small fish that feasted on the scraps Dani dislodged. Periodically, he would dart in and snatch one of the colorful little fish.

  Dani grasped the prop with her gloved left hand, rotating it to expose the blade that she had not yet cleaned. Needing a breath, she released her grip and let herself float to the surface, her rate of ascent slowed by the weight belt around her waist. As her head broke into the air, she exhaled vigorously to clear the water from her snorkel. The barracuda had stayed with her, holding his position just off her right shoulder. She studied him as she ventilated her lungs, preparing to drop below again and clean the last blade of the prop. Her lungs full, she put a hand on the bottom of the boat and pushed herself down, grasping the hub of the prop with her left hand as she drew her dive knife over the blade's surface. The knife left a cloud of small barnacles in its wake, attracting several gray snapper the size of her hand. As she extended the knife for another stroke, the barracuda struck in a flash of quicksilver.

  Dani smiled inside her dive mask as she watched him swallow the snapper. He hovered between her and the prop, one big eye focused on her. She extended her right arm and brushed the barracuda aside with the back of her hand. He offered no resistance to his forced relocation and resumed his vigil at her shoulder as she finished cleaning the last blade of the prop and sheathed her knife. She surfaced and pushed her mask up, resting it on her forehead as she drifted slowly away from Vengeance, propelled by the gentle current flowing through the anchorage.

  "Finished?" Connie asked, alerted by Dani's vigorous snort as she cleared her snorkel. She was floating, hanging onto the side of the boat a few yards from where Dani broke the surface.

  "Yes. How about you?"

  "Oh, almost. Another three feet or so," Connie said as she scrubbed the weed from the boat's waterline.

  "I'll go rinse off the salt and make us a pot of coffee," Dani said. "Liz should be back from her grocery run soon. Maybe she'll bring us some fresh pastry."

  "Yum," Connie said as she continued to scrub. "I'll be up in just a minute."

  ****

  Vengeance bobbed in the gentle waves of the anchorage off the village of Ste. Anne. The church bells chimed six o'clock as Connie poured red table wine into each of the three glasses on the cockpit table. Dani passed a glass to Liz as Connie picked up her own.

  "To another rotten day in paradise," Connie offered as they clicked their glasses.

  "Here's to more," Dani said, as she took a sip. She noticed that Liz was holding her glass, the wine untouched as she stared into the middle distance. "Liz?" she said.

  Liz gave her head a vigorous shake. "Sorry." She forced a smile and raised the glass to her lips.

  "What's wrong?" Dani asked.

  "Oh, nothing. Just lost in thought." Liz set her glass on the table. She gave the two of them another smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

  They watched as the sun touched the horizon, marveling at how suddenly it dropped from view in the tropics. Liz picked up her glass and slugged back the wine. "Guess I'd best get dinner on," she said rising from the cockpit seat and stepping through the companionway.

  Connie caught Dani's eye again and raised an eyebrow. Dani shrugged. Soon, they heard the soft sound of John Coltrane's sax drifting up from the galley as Liz began chopping vegetables with excessive vigor.

  "What's wrong with her?" Connie asked. "Do you think I did something to offend her?"

  "I don't know. I don't think so. She's the even-tempered one; something's troubling her all right, but I don't think it's you. I can't remember ever seeing her like this. Guess she'll tell us what's up when she's ready."

  After a moment's silence, Dani asked, "You up for spending some time communing with the diesel in the morning?"

  "Sure," Connie said. "What do we have to do?"

  "Well, it's time for an oil change and a few other routine maintenance items. Besides, there's an air leak in the fuel system somewhere. Doesn't want to start after it sits for a few days. I'd like to get that sorted out while we're here. There's a good diesel shop in the marina, and I think we may need to get the injector pump rebuilt. That can't be done just anywhere, and I don't want to get stuck somewhere while we ship it off for repairs. If I can't find a leak anywhere else, we'll pull the pump and take it in. You learn to do preemptive maintenance in the islands."

  "So how long will that take?"

  "Depends on how busy the shop is, but most likely a couple of days. That okay with you?"

  "Of course. It's all part of my education." Connie smiled.

  The music from below stopped abruptly.

  "Dinner's on the table," Liz called from the galley.

  Chapter 2

  The two men stood in the shadows of the trees, keeping a furtive eye on the automobile traffic. During the daytime, the area along the shoulder of the road was used as an extension of the public market, but at night when the food vendors were gone, other substances changed hands here. The swarthy man held the small parcel just out of Robert's reach.

  "Firs', you mus' pay, 'Berto. You know this."

  Robert's hungry stare was fixed on the packet. "Soon. I'll have some money soon, but I'm too sick to work; please, just this once?"

  "Tha's what you say las' time, 'Berto. I gotta pay the man; you gotta pay me. He don't wait no more. You 'member what happen to your beautiful wife las' time."

  "After what you did to her, we're even. Give me what I need."

  "No. We not even. Not close to even. We jus' do her the one time while you watch to show you what happen when you lose shipments. Now she wit' some real men; she learnin' to like, I t'ink. She payin' her share, but you gotta pay too."

  "You know I can't come up with that kind of money; I need some goods. You front me, and I can sell enough to pay you in a few weeks."

  "Not gon' happen. You pay firs', then we see."

  "How can I pay first?" Robert's hands were shaking as he stared at the packet.

  "You got nice yacht. You sell yacht, you can pay."

  "You know I can't. The bank owns the yacht. If I sell in this market, I won't get enough to pay off the loan."

  "So, then you mus' use the yacht to make some money."

  "You want me to carry product again? I don't understand."

  "No. No trus' you to carry product after las' time. We got some idea for charter business."

  The man put an arm around Robert's shoulder and began to speak into his ear as they walked along the roadside. Robert nodded as he listened. When they approached the marina where Robert's dinghy was tied, Robert felt the man slip the parcel into the outside pocket of his cargo shorts. His spirits lifted at the prospect of doing a few lines when he got back to his boat.

  "Hokay, 'Berto. One las' chance. St. Vincent, three days."

  Robert nodded as the man stepped around to face him. Before he could speak, the man drove the stiffened fingers of his left hand into Robert's solar plexus and watched as Robert gasped and sunk to his knees. He snapped a booted foot into Robert's ribs.

  "Jus' so you don' forget, 'Berto." The man smiled and turned, walking away, whistling.

  ****

  Liz sipped absently at the mug of tea and then returned it to the dining t
able. She was alone aboard Vengeance, Dani and Connie having taken the dinghy into Marin. She had begged off, volunteering to put the tools away after their morning of tinkering with the engine. She wanted time to herself; she needed to sort out her thoughts. She had passed a miserable night, slipping into short snatches of restless sleep, memories and frenzied dreams mingling as she tried to reconcile her feelings with the reality of her previous relationship with Robert Delorme.

  "Bastard," she muttered, thinking of how he had used her. She shook her head, reminding herself that she had been a willing participant in her own betrayal. He had seemed so smooth and sure of himself at a time when she was struggling with the loss of her father and the transition from university to the workplace. Her mother died when Liz was very young; she had no memory of her. Her father had raised her, and she had worshipped him. After his death, she had felt utterly alone in the world until she took up with Robert.

  She had been flattered that a man like Robert was interested in helping her cope with the complex politics of the European Commission, where she had just begun work as a financial analyst. With a year of experience to his credit, Robert seemed to have a solid grasp of how to get things done, and he had been generous in helping Liz get oriented, or at least so she had thought.

  He was charming and they were both just starting their careers. Time spent together on projects soon became time shared after work and on weekends, and they had begun discussing plans for a future together. They had discovered that they both had a passion for sailing, although their finances precluded doing more than dreaming about it, at least for some time.

  Liz remembered amusing herself while Robert was back in the U.K. for a family holiday; she had spent the time researching bareboat charters in the Greek Islands, planning to surprise him when he returned. Her father had been an avid sailor, passing on his love of the sea to Liz. He had left her a small inheritance, and she thought it would be fitting to spend some of it sailing with the new man in her life.

  When she met Robert's flight upon his return, she had immediately sensed the change in his demeanor. She had greeted him with open arms, only to be surprised by a somewhat awkward peck on the cheek in return. "What's wrong?" she had asked, the charter brochures clutched in her right hand.

  He shook his head, frowning as he glanced around the greeting area. "Let me get my bag," he said, walking toward the baggage claim area. Confused, Liz had followed as he pushed through the crowd, oblivious to her effort to stay beside him. "Robert?" she had called after him as he slipped away. He continued to the conveyor belt, ignoring her.

  She finally caught up with him as he grabbed his suitcase from the moving belt. He turned to go to the taxi stand and almost ran into her. "Liz, I need some space, please." He frowned as he headed for the door. "I'll call you in a day or two, okay?" he said, looking over his shoulder.

  She experienced the pain and confusion again, remembering how the brochures slipped from her grasp as tears blurred her vision. She didn't remember going back to her apartment, but she knew she had spent several days there in a fugue state. She couldn't remember details, but she must have explained her absence from work in a satisfactory manner. During her self-imposed exile, a letter had come from Robert.

  "Dearest Liz," she remembered reading, the words as clear in her mind as if she held the paper before her eyes. "I haven't the courage to face you, and it pains me to think of the hurt that I have caused, but it's probably best if I don't see you again. Don't worry that we'll run into each other at work, as I've resigned. By the time you read this, I will be back in England. My wife's father has made a place for me in his business." She recalled her shock at learning that he was married, and the crushing blow of his closing sentence: "I hope that one day you'll be able to look back on the time we had together as the happy interlude which it certainly was for me. Fondly, Robert."

  ****

  Dani and Connie sat munching pastries and sipping espresso in the cafe at the marina in Le Marin. They had dropped off the injector pump at the diesel shop a few minutes earlier, and Connie had been unable to resist the tray of fresh baked goods as they passed the restaurant on their way back to the dinghy dock.

  "How's the pain au chocolat?" Dani asked.

  "Not as good as Liz's," Connie said. "She still seems subdued this morning."

  "Yes. She was tossing and turning all night last night. No idea what's bothering her."

  "You two really complement one another. You never got around to telling me how you ended up partners in Vengeance."

  "We met by chance in Antigua and discovered we had a lot in common," Dani said. "I had just found Vengeance and was making up my mind to buy her and go into the charter business. My family owned charter yachts for years; I've worked on them since I was a child. So anyway, I knew the key to making the business work would be finding a partner who could cook. I mean, I needed someone who could sail, but that's easy. I discovered that Liz loved cooking as much as she did sailing, and we kind of hit it off. It's a good business relationship, and she's become my best friend in the bargain. I got lucky. Good crew's hard to find, but good friends are even harder."

  "You and Liz are the only friends I've had since I was a child. I never had the luxury of making friends when I was starting out. I really appreciate the way you two have taken me in."

  "It's been our pleasure," Dani said. "You're an easy shipmate. You're really serious about going into this business, aren't you?"

  "Yes. I worked like crazy until a couple of years ago when I came into a little money. I thought it was a fortune, of course, but it wasn't. It did give me some breathing space, though. I had always thought that if I had enough money, I'd do nothing but lie on some deserted beach and sip umbrella drinks. After two years of that, I was just about nuts. I was walking on the beach trying to figure out what to do next when I found the diamonds."

  "If you go into the charter business, you won't have to worry about having enough to do. Making money at it's a whole different thing, though," Dani said.

  "My big worry, aside from learning everything you and Liz can teach me, is finding somebody to work with me."

  "That's a problem on a small boat like ours; everybody on the crew has to pitch in. Less of a problem on the bigger boats where you have several crew members. You can afford some specialization there. Liz and I can pretty well trade places, except for the cooking. She's way better at that than I am. Can you cook?"

  "Not like Liz," Connie said.

  "Speaking of Liz and cooking, we'd better head back. It'll be lunch time soon. Maybe she'll tell us what's on her mind," Dani said as she left some change on the table to cover their check.

  Chapter 3

  "Sorry I've been preoccupied," Liz said as Connie and Dani enjoyed the warm seafood salad she had served for their lunch. "I had an unsettling encounter yesterday -- an old boyfriend from my time in Brussels."

  Dani and Connie continued to chew their food, giving Liz time to collect her thoughts.

  "I guess I thought I was over him until I saw him in the store yesterday, but all the memories came flooding back."

  "You've never said much about what happened in Brussels," Dani prompted.

  "He was a coworker," Liz said, "but it went beyond that. I thought we were soul mates. We were together for almost a year, but it turned out that he was married. His wife was back in England with her wealthy parents."

  "Men can be real shits," Connie offered.

  "Yes," Liz said, "and he was."

  "Should have kicked his ass," Dani said, taking a sip of the crisp white wine from her moisture-beaded glass.

  "I was too stunned to do anything but curl up and feel sorry for myself," Liz said. "That was my first and only serious relationship, and he just cut me off cold like I meant nothing to him. I didn't leave my apartment for days; I can't even remember that period. Somehow, I managed to hang onto my job through all of it." She looked down at her salad and shook her head.

  "Not too late to t
each him some manners. He's here; we're here," Dani said, raising her eyebrows and setting her glass on the table as she grasped her right fist in her left hand.

  Liz smiled with some real feeling for the first time since her encounter in the grocery store. "I would have expected to feel like doing that, but my emotions are running the other way. I can't make sense of it."

  "You want to let him back into your life," Connie said. "I've had that kind of reaction before, even when a man treated me like dirt. Women are wired to forgive, I think; we're peacemakers, not warriors." She couldn't help laughing at the scowl of disagreement on Dani's face. "At least most of us are. Come on, Dani. Surely some guy must have broken your heart?"

  Dani shook her head. "My wrist, one time, but I was just a kid. I got him back, though."

  Liz and Connie were still laughing when a heavily built water taxi pulled alongside Vengeance.

  "Bonjour, ladies." The operator stood, grasping Vengeance's gunwale with his left hand as he swept his big straw hat off and bowed his head.

  "Bonjour," Dani replied.

  "I have some package for Ms. Chirac. She is here?"

  "I'm Liz Chirac, but I'm not expecting a delivery." Liz stood and clambered onto the side deck, dropping to a knee to be closer to eye level with the man.

  The man put his hat back on and reached down toward his feet, retrieving a long, white box with an elaborate bow. He extended it toward Liz. "From a gentleman," he said.

  As Liz grasped the box, the boatman released his grip on Vengeance's toe rail and pushed his boat away. He turned his attention to the idling outboard and roared away in the direction of Marin.

  ****

  A few miles from Vengeance, in the northeastern corner of the anchorage off the marina in Cul-de-Sac Marin, the 52-foot Isis swung to her anchor. The vessel was roomy but nondescript in the way of modern, white fiberglass yachts. She was one of the mass-produced boats built to the specifications of the large bareboat charter companies, offering the maximum number of sleeping berths per dollar. Ubiquitous in the popular anchorages of the eastern Caribbean, such boats attracted little attention, and that suited Robert Delorme, especially now.