by Matt Lincoln
The interior of the station didn’t look much different from any of the other rural stations I’d visited during my travels. The main entrance opened to a modestly decorated lobby. A single police officer was manning the main desk. Just beyond him, I could see a corridor that led into the rest of the building. There weren’t any glass partitions or intense security measures in place that I could see. Kew Town must have been a relatively safe place.
“Hello,” Olivia greeted the man sitting at the front desk coolly. “I’m Agent Olivia Hastings with the FBI. These are Agents Holm and Marston with MBLIS. We’re here to speak with Captain Turner.”
She spoke quickly and clearly, in an authoritative voice that left no room for argument.
“Of course,” the man replied as he stood up. “I’ll take you back to his office.”
We followed him further into the police station, down a narrow hallway, and toward an elevator. We got off on the second floor, and he led us through a bullpen area similar to the one back home in our own office.
The officer knocked twice on a closed door at the end of the large room before heading inside.
“Agents here to see you, sir,” he said before stepping aside to let us in.
The man sitting behind the desk looked to be in his fifties, with a rich, deep skin tone and a smoothly shaved head. He had a wide, unsettling grin on his face, like the most exaggerated caricature of a customer service smile I could imagine. All fake.
His office, too, made me feel unsettled. Aside from a large wooden desk, a few chairs, and a row of filing cabinets against the back wall, there was no furniture in the room. Honestly, it seemed more like a prison cell than an office.
“Welcome to Turks and Caicos, agents.” He smiled at us before standing to shake each of our hands. “Though I wish you were here under more pleasant circumstances.”
“So do we,” Olivia replied curtly. “To get straight down to business, I assume you know why we’re here? I’m certain you received a briefing from my director prior to our arrival.”
“Of course,” he replied. “Please, rest assured that we are ready to do everything we can to assist you in your investigation. An officer will accompany you during your time here on the island.”
Olivia clenched her jaw. It was obvious that idea did not please her. Honestly, something about the guy seemed kind of off to me as well. He was a little too cheerful for my taste.
“That’s not to say that we don’t trust the FBI,” he continued, though that was definitely what it sounded like if the tone of his voice was anything to go by. “It’s just that as the crime occurred here in our country, it is only appropriate that a member of our law enforcement be involved as well.”
“Of course, we understand,” I replied quickly when it seemed like Olivia was about to snap.
“Excellent.” He smiled morosely. “Well, let’s not waste any more time then. I’ll go get Officer Keys now.”
He stood and left the office.
“We’ve already got two separate entities covering this case,” Olivia muttered. “Why not add one more?”
“Not like we have much choice,” Holm pointed out. “That’s the fun part of international criminal investigation, having to hash through every country’s laws and policies. As long as we’re here, we have to play by their rules, at least to some extent. We’re used to it.”
“I just hope they don’t stick us with some hot-headed jerk,” Olivia muttered grumpily.
Fortunately, she got her wish, as the officer that Captain Turner returned with was all smiles and relaxed posture.
“Hey, what’s up, guys?” He grinned at us. “My name is Walter Carson. I’ll be assisting you with your case, then.”
“Carson?” Olivia raised an eyebrow at him before turning to look at Captain Turner. “I thought you said--”
“Unfortunately, Officer Keys is on leave right now,” the captain grumbled.
“Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it,” Officer Carson snickered.
The captain shot him an angry look, but Carson seemed unfazed. He was tall, and his hair was braided into neat rows atop his head and gathered at the base of his neck in a small ponytail.
“Officer Carson will accompany you,” he muttered.
“Yeah, ‘cause don’t no one else want to do it,” Officer Carson interrupted him again.
“Carson!” the captain barked, one of the veins in his neck standing out so much that it looked painful.
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Carson sighed almost disinterestedly. It was kind of amazing watching him just casually brush off his boss like that. “Come on then, let’s not waste any more time here. You agents ready to go or what?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Olivia replied.
The police captain looked like he’d just bitten into a sour lemon. I was curious as to what had just happened for his demeanor to have changed so suddenly, and I tucked the thought aside as I followed Olivia out of the office.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” I heard Holm tell the captain behind me before following me out.
“He sure seemed friendly,” Olivia muttered once the door was closed, and we were out of earshot.
“You noticed that too, huh?” I replied quietly as we made our way out of the station.
“How could I not?” she scoffed. “That guy’s smile was creepy. And what was up with how he suddenly came back all mad?”
“The captain doesn’t like it when things don’t go his way,” Carson laughed as we stepped out onto the street.
Olivia’s face flushed as she realized that he’d heard our exchange, despite the fact that we’d been whispering.
“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly as he noted the embarrassed look on her face. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop on ye. Don’t worry, though. I’m not gonna tell the captain what ye said! Anyway, now that we’re outta that stuffy old office, why don’t we introduce ourselves properly? I’m Officer Walter Carson, but you folks can just call me Walter.”
Unlike the captain, Walter’s smile seemed genuine, and I didn’t get the impression that he was putting on a show or hiding anything from us.
“Good to meet you, Walter.” Olivia moved forward to shake his hand firmly. “I’m Agent Olivia Hastings. This is Agent Ethan Marston and Agent Robbie Holm.”
“Nice to meet you,” he responded as he shook each of our hands. “Are ye all FBI, then?”
“No, actually,” I replied. “Agent Hastings is, but Holm and I belong to an organization called MBLIS.”
“Embolis?” Walter cocked his head at us, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“M-B-L-I-S,” Holm spelled the acronym out for him. “It stands for Military Border Liaison Investigative Service. We handle crimes that cross borders or that involve multiple countries, or that take place out in international waters, stuff like that.”
“Ah, I see.” Walter nodded thoughtfully. “That explains why you’re here in Turks & Caicos, then, right? I understand now. The office has been all abuzz since we heard that we’d be getting a visit from FBI agents.”
“Yeah, you mentioned something about that,” Olivia muttered. “You said that no one else wanted to be assigned to work with us. Why is that?”
“They don’t want trouble.” Walter shrugged. “I heard the details of the case earlier. Ye all found some girl dead, right? Be perfectly honest with you, no one around here wants to go anywhere near a case involving a dead American girl.”
“So why did you volunteer?” I asked.
“Cause, unlike them, I actually take my job seriously,” he retorted before giving me a grin. “And because I knew it would piss off old Turner. Only reason he wanted Keys on the case with you is that Keys is a brown-nosing little snitch who would have reported everything you did back to the boss.”
“I’m shocked,” Olivia deadpanned.
“Yeah, well, lucky for you,” Walter chuckled, “Keys is on administrative leave right now. And by that, I mean he was arrested last nig
ht up in Grace Bay. Guess he got a little too carried away with the cocaine this time! Ah, you shoulda seen the look on the captain’s face when he marched into the main office to ask where Keys was. It surprised me he hadn’t heard since gossip’s been going around all morning.”
“Your captain didn’t know that one of his officers is in jail right now?” I asked, struck with disbelief at his words.
“Man, the captain doesn’t know nothing,” Walter laughed.
Walter seemed positively gleeful about that, and I wondered just what went on behind the closed doors of that police station. Nevertheless, I was glad we had someone like Walter working the case with us.
“Let’s go speak to the owner of the boat,” I suggested after checking the time. We’d dropped our bags off at the hotel earlier, and there was still plenty of daylight left for us to begin our investigation. “According to the information we managed to dig up, he runs a boat rental shop on the beach near here.”
“Let’s go then,” Olivia agreed. “He might have seen something. He might even recognize her if he’s a local.”
Our destination was the beach located at the northernmost part of the city. As we started walking, I realized that Olivia’s earlier statement about nothing really being far away on the island was true, since it would only take us about ten minutes to walk there.
“It’s so pretty,” Olivia remarked as we walked past the brightly colored buildings, flanked on either side by massive palm trees. On the streets, I could see locals and tourists alike walking around, admiring the scenery at a leisurely pace. It didn’t seem like anyone was in a rush to get anywhere, and I imagined that it would be an amazing place to actually have a vacation. If only we weren’t here for such a tragic reason.
“You know exactly where the place is?” Walter asked us a few minutes later as we stepped onto the beach.
“No,” I replied as I looked out along the coastline. It was stunning, coated in sand so pure and even that it almost looked white. “His address is near here, though. I figured since it’s the middle of the day, in the middle of tourist season, that he’d be out on the beach right now. We can check his home next if we can’t manage to find him.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Walter hummed as he led us down the busy boardwalk. Shops and stalls lined the wide pedestrian boardwalk, and I couldn’t help but have a glance as we passed by. One particular stall caught my attention, not because of the way it looked, but because of the way it smelled.
The plump woman running the little place was deep-frying something inside of a large vat of oil before placing it onto a thick bun and piling it high with lettuce, tomato, and some kind of sauce I couldn’t readily identify.
“Ah, shark caught your eye, huh?” Walter called as he turned to see what I was looking at.
“What?” I asked, a little embarrassed at having been caught staring.
“The shark.” He nodded toward the stall. “Kinda thing you can only find here. Mama Rosie makes the best ones on the Western Island, too. Wanna stop and have some?”
“It’s alright,” I replied a little reluctantly. “It smells amazing, and I’m always up for trying a new and exciting local dish, but we really should try to get some investigating done before we take a break.”
“We can come back closer to dinner time,” Olivia suggested. “There’s a lot of stuff here I’d like to try out too. We can have a look around after we finish up for the day.”
“That sounds good.” I smiled at her.
As we continued down the boardwalk, I couldn’t keep my eyes from drifting over to the shops and restaurants lining the walkway. One, in particular, caught my eye, a hip-looking bar that was crowded with tourists. I wasn’t certain at first what about it had drawn my attention since it didn’t look any different from any other tourist-trap bar.
Then I realized what it was. A young woman was standing near the main entrance. She didn’t look all that different from the rest of the tourists, but her behavior was strange. She was standing almost unnaturally still, and something about her posture was setting off alarm bells in my head.
“Hey, Ethan!” Olivia’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. I looked up, and it surprised me to discover that I’d lagged behind the rest of the group. “Hurry up!”
“Sorry,” I called back distractedly as I looked back at the bar.
The girl was gone.
I blinked and wondered If I’d just imagined it. It was odd, and part of me wanted to go investigate, if only to ensure that I hadn’t been seeing things. I had to focus on the case now, though, so I pushed the thought to the back of my mind.
“Oh, I see boats,” Olivia remarked a few minutes later. Sure enough, a few yards away, just off of the beach, was a small docking area lined with boats of various sizes.
“This is where all the boats on this part of the beach dock,” Walter informed us. “The man we are looking for is most likely working somewhere around here.”
The area was dotted with signs advertising fishing trips, boat rentals, and even scuba lessons, so I knew that Walter must be right about this being the spot.
We stepped off the boardwalk and onto the sand toward the water where the boats were docked. There were markedly fewer tourists on this part of the beach. Most of the people walking around appeared to be fishermen and boat workers, though there were a few tourists milling around, most likely in search of a boat rental.
I kept stumbling as I made my way across the beach. The sand was so fine and smooth here that it shifted and gave way easily as I stepped over it, and I just knew I was going to end up with sand in my shoes by the end of this.
“Excuse me,” I called to one of the men standing on the boat nearest to us. “We’re looking for a Kenneth Johnson. He rents boats out here.”
“Kenny?” the man asked as he stepped off the boat to come to speak with us. “Yeah, he works down on the other end of the docks. But uh, just between you and me, my service is a lot better, you know? Faster boat and cheaper price, too.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “But we aren’t actually trying to rent a boat.”
“You need a guide?” the man asked immediately. “Maybe some fishing equipment? I can tell you right now, you won’t find anything better than what we offer here at Jacob’s Boats.”
“We actually need to question him with regard to a criminal matter,” Olivia interjected.
The man glanced up at her and then seemed to suddenly notice Walter for the first time. The smile fell from his face the moment he spotted the police uniform.
“Ah, I see,” he mumbled awkwardly before pointing down toward the end of the dock. “Well, uh, Kenny’s over there. Down by the pier, you can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” I replied, but the man had already turned around and was getting back onto the boat.
“You know that guy?” Holm asked Walter as we started down toward the pier at the edge of the dock. “He got all quiet the moment he saw you.”
“Nah.” Walter shrugged. “Probably just didn’t want to talk to a cop. Turks & Caicos is a beautiful place, full of friendly people, but that doesn’t mean there’s no crime here. The thing is, though, people here are a close-knit bunch, especially these fisherman types. They aren’t going to want to talk ill of one of their own, even if they do know something.”
“Great,” Holm grumbled. “Just what we need on a case where we already have almost no clues.”
We made our way down the line of boats. Finally, we made it to the wooden pier that the other man had directed us toward. Two boats were docked right beside it, one a little speedboat, and the other a larger fishing boat similar to the one we’d found Allison’s body in. A large hand-painted sign was jammed into the ground just in front of the boats, advertising various services such as guided fishing and boat rentals.
“Hello!” a young man with curly hair and deeply tanned skin called from one of the boats as he spotted us approaching. He jumped nimbly off and walked toward us. “How can I help yo
u folks? Interested in a boat rental?”
“Are you Kenneth Johnson?” I asked him.
“Yeah, why?” he replied, the smile slipping off his face just a little as he eyed us warily.
“I’m Agent Marston with MBLIS,” I introduced myself as I pulled my credentials out of my pocket to show him. “This is my partner Agent Holm, and this is Agent Hastings with the FBI. We need to speak to you about the person who stole your boat a few days ago.”
“Oh, that,” he snapped, his face twisting into an annoyed pout. “So you finally caught that girl, huh? Crazy cow. Just jumped into my boat, with a kid no less, and took off at full speed! Took a third of my business with her. I’m trying to make a living here, and this girl just takes off with one of my three boats!”
“So you actually witnessed her taking it?” Olivia jumped in.
“Of course I did!” Kenneth scowled. “I was just about to rent it to this nice British couple when she jumped right in and stole it! So, what, was she trafficking drugs or something? Why’s the FBI involved in some stolen property case? I knew that girl was into something bad.”
“We’re involved,” I replied curtly, “because that girl was a trafficking victim, and we believe that she stole your boat while attempting to flee from her captors.”
Kenneth’s face went white at my words, and he stuttered for a moment before speaking again.
“I-I didn’t, wow. That’s crazy,” he stammered quietly.
“What did you mean when you said she was into something bad?” Olivia asked.
“Huh?” he replied dumbly.
“You just said ‘I knew that girl was into something bad,’” Olivia clarified. “What made you think that?”
“Oh, well…” he muttered as he shifted his eyes down toward the ground. “Something weird happened right after she took it.”
“What do you mean by weird?” I asked.
He looked up at Walter before flitting his gaze back down to the ground.
“Look, I don’t want to get in trouble,” he mumbled.
“Why would you get in trouble?” I asked. “Did you do something wrong?”
