Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries)

by A W Hartoin

  “They had opportunity,” I said.

  Mauro waved goodbye to the girls and their bare bottoms and whispered in my ear, “No, they didn’t.”

  “Since when?”

  “Check out Frankie’s shirt.”

  Frankie had on a Gumbalimba Park tee.

  “So what?” I asked.

  “They went yesterday and did the canopy tour and the whole deal.”

  “I saw them yesterday. They could’ve done it.”

  “You saw them yesterday morning, so did I. They were here for the storm, but they spent the afternoon at Gumbalimba.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They told me,” he said, bending a little closer than necessary. I liked it.

  “People lie,” I said. “They lie, even when they don’t have to.”

  I should know.

  “I asked Chanda in the tour office. She booked the tour and put them in a cab.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I am.”

  I kissed his cheek. “Finally, somebody off the list.”

  “You can thank me again. Maybe at dinner tonight? That is if you and Aaron aren’t exclusive.”

  “Aaron and I are exclusive only because he won’t leave me alone.” I sighed as Pete’s distracted face came into my mind. “But I am exclusive with someone else.”

  “Let me understand. You’re exclusive, but you and Aaron are still humping next to trash cans?”

  “If you actually believe that, why on earth would you ever want to take me to dinner?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what I believe, except that you are unusual. I like that.”

  “You are a sick man.”

  “And you like that?”

  “If I was allowed to like it, I would. But I’m not, so I don’t. Understand?”

  “No.”

  I started to explain, but Officer Tabora came into the restaurant. The tourists parted and gave him a clear path. At first, I thought he was coming for me. But all he did was squint at me and head for the table with Dixie and the Gmucas. I gave the list to Mauro. “Can you have these made?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got to get a look at the crime scene. Don’t let those drinks out of your sight.”

  I thrust the napkin at him and ran out of the restaurant. If it wasn’t the Gmucas, Colin was now heading my list. I took the back way to the bungalow and passed through the parking lot. Four cops and a couple of guys that seemed like crime scene technicians, except they were wearing shorts, were getting in a van. Pinto leered at me and leaned out the window. “Be seeing you soon.”

  “Don’t count on it,” I said, turning onto the path. I managed to suppress the shiver that went up my spine. I could not get arrested by that man. It would be a very bad thing.

  Now that I was out of the public areas of the resort, it was all quiet. The cruise ship passengers weren’t allowed in the paying guest parts and all the cops were gone, leaving the spaghetti birds yelling in the palms and an isolated feeling that made me think of Andrew Thatcher. Whatever had happened to him was Colin’s fault. And from the look of Colin last night, his friends didn’t play nice.

  I turned onto the back path, so I could get a look at the crime scene without being observed. I’d forgotten to get my lock picks and almost went back when I saw a foot sticking out from behind a palm. For a second, my heart seized. I thought it was Andrew, but, of course, it wasn’t. Even Pinto wouldn’t have missed him sitting next to his bungalow.

  I went around the palm and found Joe sitting with one leg drawn up and his forehead resting on it. He had a cell phone in one hand and a napkin in the other.

  “Joe? Are you okay?” I asked.

  He glared at me. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re having the worst week of your life.”

  His expression softened. “You got that right.”

  I sat beside him in the sand and looked at the crime scene tape wound around the bushes and blocking the back door. “Any news?”

  “No.”

  “What did Colin say?”

  “Not a damn thing. They can’t find him.” Joe spat the words. “Fucking typical.”

  “But they do think he had something to do with it?” I asked.

  “Oh, he had something to do with it. He always does. If there’s bullshit going down, you can count on Colin to be right in the middle of it.”

  “What was he into?”

  “You name it? He’s probably done it. You know, I didn’t want him on this trip at all, but Andrew insisted. He said it was for old time sake. We were best friends in college and Andrew just couldn’t let go. He said Colin will settle down and we have to stick by him. Fuck that.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. Sometimes there’s just nothing to say, no comfort to give. Aaron appeared beside me with another platter. The smell of sausage, hash browns, and general goodness settled over us.

  “How do you always know where I am?” I asked.

  Aaron shrugged and put the platter in front of me. Food. Glorious food. I never imagined I’d spend half my vacation starving.

  Joe glanced over. “Is that one of your creations, Aaron?”

  Aaron rubbed his hands together. “I made the sausage this morning. The browns are a mixture of Yukon Gold and Idaho potatoes. The eggs are made the French way with heavy cream.” He took a deep breath. “I grated the garlic and onion for the sauté and used cognac to deglaze.”

  Joe started looking at my platter longingly. Poor guy was having a terrible vacation. At least he could have the best food. I passed the plate to him. “And it’s for you. Better eat it before it gets cold.”

  He tried to give it back. “Aaron made this for you.”

  “No, he didn’t. It’s for you. When’s the last time you ate?” I asked.

  “Last night.”

  “Chow down. You need your strength.”

  Aaron pulled a small backpack from behind him and produced a thermos full of milky coffee, silverware, and a napkin.

  Joe took a bite and moaned. It hurt deep inside me.

  Breakfast, I love you.

  “This is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life. You’re like a food genius. I don’t know how to thank you,” said Joe.

  “Now that you mention it, you can thank us with information,” I said.

  “Like what?” He moaned again.

  “Like what you know about Colin’s activities, since you’ve been here. I assume you don’t owe him any loyalty.”

  “Hell, no. Ask me anything.”

  “Did Colin try to kill Lucia and Graeme Carrow?”

  Joe’s head jerked up and a piece of sausage fell out of his mouth. “Are you serious?”

  “I gather he’s desperate for money. Killing pays,” I said.

  “He is desperate. Actually, Andrew and I were fighting about that. Colin gambles and I mean serious high-stakes gambling. It started in college along with the drinking and drugs. We thought he’d get over it, when we graduated. Everyone else grew up, but he didn’t. It just got worse.”

  “He gambled here on the island?” I asked.

  “Of course, he did, the idiot. These are guys you don’t want to know, much less owe. They’re freaking terrifying,” said Joe.

  “How much did he lose?”

  “Thirty thousand in the first four days we were here, and who knows how much since then.”

  Aaron sat down. “Thirty thousand dollars?”

  That was the first time I’d ever seen him surprised. Usually, he was kind of blank.

  “Yep. Dollars, not pesos or whatever. Colin’s got a problem, but he thinks he’s cool.”

  “Did he have anything to do with the attempts on Lucia and Graeme?” I took the thermos and poured myself a generous amount of lovely coffee into the lid.

  “I don’t think so,” said Joe, after he finished the sausage. “He just gets hurt himself, but…”

  “But it’s possible,” I finished for him.


  “I hate to say it, but he could’ve done it.”

  “How did you end up on this island anyway? It’s not exactly Cancun.”

  “It was Colin’s idea. I didn’t know why he was so set on it, but we found out after we arrived that he already had connections.” He looked away for a second and I felt the pain coming off of him in waves. “I should’ve said no. If anything is Colin’s idea, you know it has to be bad. Maybe I’m the idiot.”

  “Has there been a ransom demand?” I asked.

  “No, and Tabora is really worried about that.” He pointed to the bungalow. “They took Andrew when he was trying to get in the back door. There’s a little blood on the door and bushes. He was just coming back to get his camera during dinner.”

  “Why the back door?”

  “The front door sticks,” said Joe.

  “When did that start? I saw you using the front.”

  “Yesterday afternoon. It was a bear to get open.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Oh shit,” said Joe. “You think someone messed with the door, so we’d have to use the back.” He pushed the platter away and Aaron swiftly took it off his knees.

  “I think it’s probable. It’s easier to nab someone in the back than the front. Tell me what happened.”

  “When Andrew didn’t come back, Colin and I went looking for him. We called the police, but they said tourists get drunk and wander off all the time. They didn’t even come over here.”

  “When did you find the blood?” I asked.

  “This morning. I got up and Colin was gone. I walked around, looking for him and Andrew, and that’s when I saw the blood on the door.”

  “It could be Colin’s.”

  “I wish.” He looked at me, defiant. “I really do wish it were Colin’s and I don’t care how that sounds.”

  I rubbed his shoulder and gave him the coffee. He took a swig and continued, “But it’s not Colin’s. There was a struggle. I was in the bungalow all night. I would’ve heard something. Colin took off, like the asshole he is.”

  “No ransom,” said Aaron and we both looked at him.

  Aaron looked as dim as a fifteen-watt bulb, but his words lit up an idea in my head. “They got the wrong guy.”

  “Wrong guy?” asked Joe. “How’d you confuse Andrew with Colin? Andrew is black, for Christ’s sake.”

  “There’s no light back here. It gets pretty dark and they’re about the same height and build. We’re not talking about rocket scientists here. They meant to take Colin. They already tried beating the crap out of him to get the money and that didn’t work. You and Andrew wouldn’t pay. I bet they were planning on ransoming him to you.”

  “But there’s no ransom note.”

  “Because they’ve got Andrew instead and he’s supposed to have the money, right? How much have you got on your own?” I asked.

  “I could come up with twenty grand, if I had to.”

  “And that’s not enough. They want the full amount, which I’m guessing is more than thirty.”

  “Will they kill Andrew? He didn’t do anything. I’ll give them what I have, the whole twenty. I wouldn’t give them twenty cents for Colin at this point.”

  “I don’t know what they’ll do. They probably don’t know what they’re going to do. That’s why there’s no ransom demand yet.”

  “Andrew could get killed a week before his wedding. I can’t believe this. Andrew’s the best of us. He’s the reason I got through college. I’ll pay it. They just have to ask. But I swear, if Colin shows up, I think I’ll kill him. Do you think they’ll take the twenty?”

  “I think they’ll cut their losses,” I said. “Where did you meet these creeps?”

  “At a bar in Coxen Hole. I thought I was going to get tetanus just from walking in that joint and I’ve pulled Colin out of some pretty sleazy places.”

  “I want you to go there and let it be known that you want Andrew back and you’re willing to pay. I’ll get Spitball and Mauro to go with you.”

  “Shouldn’t the cops handle this?”

  “I don’t know if Andrew has that kind of time. Let’s keep it simple. We want Andrew. They want money. I assume you don’t care whether they’re caught or not as long as Andrew comes out alive.”

  “That’s all that matters,” said Joe.

  “Then that’s what we’re going to do.”

  Chapter 14

  SPITBALL AND MAURO took off with Joe five minutes after I told them what was going on. Spitball was armed like he was invading Afghanistan. I think he would’ve packed a harpoon, if he could’ve fit it into his backpack. They sped off in the resort’s van, looking grim but determined. They’d tell a select few that Joe wanted Andrew back, alive, and he didn’t care about anything else. Spitball knew the bar and the people in it by reputation. He agreed with me. They’d be willing to deal. Nobody wanted U.S. officials getting involved in Roatan affairs. It was better to take the money and call it good.

  I watched them drive away and squeezed the key in my hand. Joe had given me his front door key, so I could check out the lock. Aaron trotted along beside me as I went through the resort. My stomach was growling so loud, I could barely hear the spaghetti birds, but I couldn’t ask Aaron to make a third breakfast for me. That was just ridiculous.

  The area around Joe’s bungalow was clear, so we went right up and unlocked the door. I expected the lock to grind or perhaps for the key not to go all the way in, like someone had done the old superglue technique, but the lock was fine. The doorknob wasn’t. I could barely turn it. Aaron yanked the door and it took so much effort that he got red-faced and sweaty.

  I sniffed. “What is that smell? Have you been eating lionfish again?”

  “Hot dog.”

  I sniffed again. “Please don’t tell me those were lionfish hot dogs.”

  “I invented them. The trick is to combine lionfish with chicken to get the right texture.”

  “I’m sorry I asked.” I squatted and looked at the latch. There were faint traces of blue on the metal. “I need a screwdriver.”

  Aaron gave me a butter knife, because of course he would have one on him at all times. I unscrewed the faceplate and took it off. Inside the latch assembly was more blue stuff. It was stiff and tacky and reminded me of plumber’s putty. I’d never seen blue putty, though, and Dad had about six different kinds. At some point he’d gotten the idea that I should be able to do simple plumbing repairs. I thought I should find a hot plumber instead, but Dad insisted on teaching me how to do stuff I never actually intended to do.

  I sniffed and, although it was hard to detect over Aaron’s fishdog stink, it did smell like putty. Someone had messed with Joe’s door. It wasn’t a crime of opportunity. They planned it, but not well enough to get the right guy.

  “You’re just asking to get arrested, you know that?” Tabora came up beside me and squatted.

  “I have a key and Joe’s permission. You can call him,” I said.

  “He’s not here?” It wasn’t really a question. Tabora wasn’t surprised.

  “Not at the moment.”

  “He’s going to pay the kidnappers, isn’t he?”

  “How should I know?” I asked.

  “Because you’re calling the shots. I looked you up. Your father’s famous in the law enforcement community.”

  “He is. I’m not.”

  Tabora peered in the latch assembly. “What have you got there?”

  I broke down and told him my theory about the putty. He stood and leaned on the doorframe. “Where’s Joe?”

  “That depends on what you’re going to do,” I said.

  “I’m supposed to catch the perpetrators and charge them with multiple crimes.”

  “But…”

  “I’d like Mr. Thatcher to live and get off this island.”

  I leaned on the doorframe and sized the cop up. He seemed sincere and local law enforcement wouldn’t want an international incident anymore than the local hoods. An American man ki
dnapped and murdered a week before his wedding would garner some serious interest. “Joe’s in a bar, letting his intentions be known,” I said.

  “What about the money?” asked Tabora

  “What about it? Joe says he can get it.”

  “He could in the States. This is Roatan. Nothing moves quickly.”

  I screwed the faceplate back on. “What do you suggest?”

  “I might be able to get access to some lempira. Joe will have to pay it back. Call me when they contact him,” said Tabora.

  I stood up and stepped inside, wrinkling my nose at the smell. “I will.”

  “What do you expect to find in there?” he asked.

  “Maybe something to do with Lucia and Graeme. It doesn’t hurt to check again,” I said.

  Tabora smiled. “I knew you weren’t in there to seduce Thatcher.”

  “What gave me away?”

  He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Your eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of truth in that statement.”

  I couldn’t resist. “You bought the trash can thing.”

  Officer Tabora laughed. “Not even for a moment, but we didn’t have enough to hold you anyway.”

  “So I was humiliated for nothing.”

  “My companions believed every word, if that makes you feel better.”

  “It doesn’t,” I said.

  He paused and became thoughtful. “Miss Watts, are you planning on being with Joe at the exchange?”

  “If it’s possible, I’ll be there.”

  Tabora nodded and walked away with his shoulders hunched. Aaron and I went inside and the situation had not improved. I should’ve brought gloves. Going through pockets and reaching under beds without them wasn’t the best idea.

  We went through the room, every pocket and every drawer. Nothing that pertained to Lucia or Graeme. The burnt paper was gone out of the trash can. I guessed that Colin had flushed it. Probably lists of his markers. As if flushing them would erase his debt.

  “That it?” asked Aaron.

  I nodded and we left, locking the door.

  “Mercy, what are you doing?” Mom was on the path with her hands on her hips.

  “Uh…nothing,” I said.

  “Nothing. You just broke into a kidnap victim’s room.”

  “I have a key.” I held it up to prove it.