“We’ve been stranded,” Kate said, smiling and fluttering her hands in the air. She looked as innocent to danger as a baby bird cast from its nest. “Can you help us? Our ship is due to sail, and we have to reach the port.”
An avaricious gleam entered the man’s eyes. “Oh yeah? If you’re on one of them fancy big ships, maybe you’re worth some-thin’. You people from the States?”
“Are you nuts?” countered his pasty-faced companion. “These folks will tell where they seen us, Eddie.”
“Keep your trap shut.”
“But we gotta—”
“You’re right.” Eddie lifted his shovel and addressed the newcomers. “Get into the shed,” he told them.
Marla wasn’t about to be locked up in a dark hidey-hole again. She exchanged glances with Vail, who then gestured to Kate to move back. When the older woman returned a bewildered stare, Marla gritted her teeth. Really, how could Kate be so naive? Get out of the way, she silently urged.
At her side, Brianna stooped to fix her sandal but grabbed a handful of dirt instead and threw it at their assailants.
Vail sprung into a dive and tackled Eddie at the legs. Toppling backward, the tall man took Vail with him and tried to clobber him with the blunt end of the shovel. The two men rolled on the ground struggling while Shorty flew at Kate.
John grabbed his wife’s hand and yanked her out of the way. Shorty stumbled into Marla’s path, reassessed his prey, and drew a knife. He swung at her stomach.
Marla blocked the thrust with her beach bag, then smashed her knee into his groin before he could react with the blade.
Howling, he doubled over. Using a move Vail had taught her, she elbowed him on the jaw, resulting in the satisfactory sound of crunching bone. He went down like laundry in a chute.
Breathing hard, she bent to steady herself.
“We’ve got to help Daddy!” Brianna cried, clutching her arm.
The men tossed on the packed earth, a flurry of battling arms and legs. Eddie had dropped his shovel, but he rained a series of punches at Vail, his leaner frame proving more agile.
Kate and John stood off to the side watching in horror.
Marla felt a wave of helplessness, afraid she’d hurt her fiance instead of Eddie if she attempted to interfere.
“Look out!” she hollered when Eddie, on the top, scrabbled for a rock and aimed it at Vail’s head.
Vail turned his neck but still received a glancing blow. Stunned, he let his arms fall to his side.
Eddie circled his hands around Vail’s throat.
Marla stood petrified. How could she help him?
She needn’t have worried. Vail reached up and thrust his thumbs at the man’s eyes. Cursing, Eddie jerked back.
Vail swung his legs up, clamped them around Eddie’s torso, and used the momentum to toss the man over his head.
Leaping to his feet, he stomped his heel onto Eddie’s face.
“Let’s go” he yelled after Eddie went limp.
Blood dripping from the wound on his temple, he weaved toward a slope that headed downhill. They half slid, half stumbled down the steep, slick trail. A muddy depression at its base showed large paw prints that made Marla gulp nervously, especially when the stench of something dead fouled the air.
“Now what?” she said when they halted beside a tree scarred with claw marks. It must have rained recently in this section, because the leaves were dripping wet. She’d forgotten they were in a rain forest, where downpours were frequent events.
“You’re bleeding, Dalton,” Kate said, a look of concern on her face. She seemed none the worse for their adventure, though. Ignoring her own discomfort, she dabbed at her son’s face with her towel.
“That doesn’t matter now.” He brushed her off. “I’ll get cleaned up later. We have to find a way out of here.”
“Y-you didn’t kill that man, did you?” Kate asked in a shaky voice.
“I doubt it. No good son of a bitch.”
“I wish they’d had a car,” Brianna added, taking a long swallow from her water bottle.
“How do you think they got there?” John’s eyeglasses had fogged, and he employed his shirt to clear them.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing.” Wiping sweat from her brow, Marla regarded him. “They may have parked a vehicle out of sight of the shed. We can’t go back to look for it, though. It’s not worth the risk of them coming after us.” She paused. “Do you hear gushing water? We must be near a waterfall.”
Surrounded by dense foliage, she listened to the muted whooshing and the wind creaking through a stand of bamboo. A flash of bright green caught her eye, and she glimpsed a macaw high in the canopy, where sunlight filtered through the branches in swathes of mist.
“Is this the sort of thing you do all the time?” John asked his son. They trudged along in a line.
“Only since I met Marla.”
“Marla is real good at solving crimes, Grandpa,” Brianna proclaimed. “She’s helped Daddy with lots of cases.”
“So have you, muffin. You’ve both earned your deputy badges.” Vail beamed at them proudly.
“Hot dog! I need to get on the ball with Irene. We’re missing all the excitement,” John said to Kate.
“Irene? What does she have to do with anything?” Kate shot back. Her sharp tone could have felled a tree squirrel.
“She’s a real estate agent. I’ve been talking to her about finding a condo in Fort Lauderdale.”
“Oh yes, Marla mentioned that she’s seen you together. I thought you were acquainted through the art world.”
“That, too. If you ever listen to me, you would know these things. We’ve talked about getting a place in Florida.”
Here we go again. Marla trotted ahead, finding the source of water to be a stream and following it. The others marched behind. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. Their exertion had put her fuel gauge on empty.
“Look, there’s the ocean!” Pushing aside the spiny leaves of a cycad, she peered below at the sparkling sea. Off to the right was a fishing village.
Eager to reach civilization, she led the way down another slope, skidding down the grassy mound in her haste.
Marla worried about Kate, whose breathing had become more labored. John seemed to be in better shape, although his florid complexion indicated the heat and stress were getting to him. Perhaps they should be checked out at the infirmary when they made it back to the ship.
If they made it back to the ship. Glancing at her watch, she pressed her lips together. Less than thirty minutes to go.
Coated with sand, sweat, and flecks of mud, they approached a whiskered fellow shooing away chickens in his yard at the base of the hill.
“Excuse me,” Vail said with an earnest expression. “We need a quick ride to the port. Is there anyone with a boat we can hire?”
The man grinned, showing gaps in his teeth. “The fishing boats, they be out already, mon. But I can take you in my truck. What you be willing to pay?”
After a brief negotiation, the man chugged around a corner and returned in a rattling pickup truck with peeling paint.
His customers climbed in, and they started off along the bumpy clay road. It was slow going at first, with pools of water from recent rain in low-lying sections. They skirted potholes but continued to bounce ahead while Marla gripped the sides of the truck to maintain her balance. Good thing they hadn’t eaten in a while. They were more likely to get motion sickness here than on the ship at sea.
They passed dwellings painted turquoise, coral, or sand and built on stilts. Stairs led to main floors, open to ocean breezes, with balconies in front. Sloping tin roofs capped the structures and provided protection from heavy rainfall.
A man pedaled by on a bicycle, while to their left, boys played on a makeshift raft offshore in shallow water. Mountain ranges rose in the distance. Leaving town, they sped past a church, an above-ground cemetery, and a coastal stretch of mangroves before the harbor came into sight.
&nb
sp; Their driver screeched to a halt in front of the marketplace and across from the port security gate. No more time. The ship was due to raise the gangplank any minute.
Kate and John showed their ID to the guard and charged through the gate. While Vail paid off their savior, Marla followed Brianna into a covered stall.
“We can’t go without buying something,” Brianna said, eyeing a selection of pottery, mugs, magnets, and native art.
“Come on, it’s too late.” Marla’s fingers curled with urgency.
“Just one more minute. Please.”
Aware of the seconds ticking by, Marla snatched a painted wood carving of palm trees with Honduras scrawled beneath and several bags of roasted coffee beans. Who could resist?
“Okay, I’m ready.” Brianna held a mahogany box and a beaded necklace.
Looking frantic as he caught up with them, Vail cried, “For God’s sake, the ship is about to depart, and you two are shopping?”
“Look at these salad bowls,” Marla told him. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
He growled. “Let’s go.”
“How about a walking stick for our next jungle adventure?”
“Marla…”
Time’s up.
She paid for their purchases and ran.
CHAPTER 19
The next morning, Marla and Vail decided to leave the ship after all the tour groups for Cozumel had departed. Since it was Sunday, she didn’t want to get into town too early. After eating at the buffet, where she’d consumed a waffle with cherry sauce and whipped cream, they strolled the promenade deck to wear off the calories.
“I’m glad we’re not going on any tours today,” she told her fiancé, striding beside her. “You know how Bob Wolfson owns property in Mexico? And how he and Sandy cruise here every year? I wonder what he does when they’re in town. Sandy seemed to indicate that she went shopping on her own.”
Vail, stiff from his battle the day before, rolled his shoulders. “Let it rest, Marla. We could use a day off from interfering in everyone else’s business.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know who was responsible for our problems yesterday? Bob acted funny when I ran into him on Grand Cayman. He must be covering up something that he doesn’t want us to learn. I’d like to follow him if we catch up to him today.”
“Good for you. Maybe I should have gone along with Mom and Dad to Tulum. I hope Brie likes the Mayan ruins. It’s a long bus ride.”
“I thought they’d be exhausted after trekking through the jungle on Roatan.”
“They paid a hundred and nine dollars apiece for their excursion. Dad wouldn’t cancel.”
Marla’s eyebrows lifted. “That price includes lunch.”
“Yeah, in a box.”
She paused by the railing. “I gave your Dad my Bonine tablets in case they need it for the ferry ride. A smaller boat is bound to be rockier than this big ship.”
As their vessel approached land, she noticed a beacon flashing from a lighthouse. Soon a view of houses popped up along the coast. Although the sun had just risen, cars snaked along a road toward town. Wind whipped her hair, while she noted a Carnival cruise ship sailing a parallel course.
“I told security to report our driver to the Honduran authorities,” Vail said, “but they took that as a joke. We didn’t get any license plate number, and his description fits dozens of men. Besides, we made it back to the ship intact.”
“Barely in time. We’re lucky they waited to raise the gangplank. We could have missed the ship same as Martha did in San Juan. It almost happened to me in St. Maarten.”
“These were not random acts. Someone we know was behind them. Someone who wants us out of the way.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Marla watched as buildings came into sharper view along the shoreline. “Has the FBI been notified about Brooklyn’s disappearance?”
Vail’s mouth firmed. “Who knows? Until the laws change, jurisdiction over cruise ship crimes remains a problem. It’s common for ship’s personnel to call local authorities to deal with serious events. As for murders, forget it. You can’t get forensics people in here before the steward cleans the cabin.”
“I guess the sad lesson is to be as cautious as you are at home.” Her gaze focused. “Look, I see a McDonald’s arch.”
The Tropical Sun aimed for a concrete pier where signs faced the waterfront: BIENVENUTO PUNTA LANGOSTA, SENOR FROG’S, and DIAMONDS INTERNATIONAL.
She patted her hair in place. As the ship docked, the breeze lessened. Crystal-blue water stretched out to sea, deepening from royal blue to navy. Warmed by the sun, she thought about changing into shorts but decided to keep on her capris and turquoise top.
They descended to their cabin to freshen up, pack their belongings, and check the Tropical Tattler for a departure time.
“Look what this says,” Marla said, reading from the newsletter. “Tropical Cruise Lines has received reports of passengers becoming ill after drinking alcoholic beverages ashore. Please be aware that the contents of drinks in port may be unknown and may be much stronger or contain different ingredients than expected. Tropical Cruise Lines disclaims any responsibility for resulting illnesses or intoxication.” She glanced at Vail. “Great, now they tell us this. I should have known before I sampled that liquor in St. Maarten.”
“Their warning should apply to tap water also, including ice cubes. You don’t want to get Montezuma’s revenge.”
“Is that worse than norovirus?” Marla waved her bottle of hand sanitizer. “Don’t leave home without it.”
Ding dong, ding dong. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We have a glorious day ahead of us in Cozumel. Those of you departing on tours may descend to the gangplank. May I remind you that the Mexican Agriculture Department forbids you to bring ashore any fresh fruit, vegetables, or dairy products.”
“Hey, I could have used this yesterday,” Marla said, still reading her newsletter. “Twenty minutes of aromatherapy foot massage for forty-five dollars. Maybe I should sign up for one later this afternoon.”
“Unnecessary. My services come a lot cheaper.” Giving her a sexy grin, he waggled his eyebrows.
“Right, like we have time.” She stuffed the newsletter into her bag. They had a busy schedule that evening, too. Chili burgers and Corona beer on deck for a buccaneer fest, followed by a comedy and juggling act in the Meridian Showroom, then their choice of a newlywed game show or 80s Ladies Night before a champagne waterfall in the atrium lobby at midnight.
But she couldn’t think of that now. Setting her shopping goals took precedence.
“Are you ready?” Vail asked, donning his sunglasses.
She grinned. “Ready and armed with my credit cards,” she replied, shouldering her handbag. “Let’s go.”
Trudging along the pier in the blazing morning sun, they passed the Carnival ship and someone’s private yacht before reaching an escalator. Marla searched for quicker access to the street but she didn’t see any. The escalator led upstairs to an outdoor shopping center, Punta Langosta Mall.
“Figures we’d have to stroll by a collection of shops in order to get anywhere,” Vail commented wryly.
“Is that Heidi wearing a coral tank top by Los Cinco Soles?” Marla said, raising on her tiptoes. If so, the blonde had just disappeared inside the souvenir store. Scanning the throng for other familiar faces, she felt a wave of disappointment. Oh well, her tablemates were bound to have taken advantage of the other activities on the island, like snorkeling, which is what Betsy had decided on.
Stores beckoned, tempting her with duty-free liquors, Mexican blankets, onyx chess sets, silver jewelry, and Kahlua-filled chocolates, but she didn’t linger. This might be good for last-minute shopping, but they’d have a bigger selection in town.
Winding their way around, they found a staircase to the lower level. It took them to Avenue Rafael E. Melgar.
“Island tour, lady?” said a fellow on the street tagging after them. Other hustlers tried to run them down, of
fering driving services.
Vail kept a brisk pace as they passed the Hotel Vista Del Mar on their right. To their left stretched the aqua water, rippling in a light breeze. Radio music blasted from a jewelry store where the door was propped open. A truck rumbled past, competing with the rat-a-tat from a jackhammer and the rapid-fire Spanish spit out from all directions.
Strolling along the smooth pavement, they passed the Habana Cigar Company, advertising HABANOS, UNIQUK SINCE 1492. No need to stop there, but D’Arce Jewelers Internazionale showcased museum-quality silver figurines. Fascinated, Marla glanced at the horse and lion but hastened on when the greeter caught her eye.
Fotomega came next, along with camera supplies and a sign reading CALL HOME, INTERNET PHONE SERVICE. Pizza Hut, Sunglass Island, and Caribbean Diamonds didn’t interest her either.
Crossing an intersection, she skirted a mound of concrete debris piled in the road. Down the side street, a man hauled water bottles from a truck labeled AQUA PURIFICADA CRISTAL, while a sweeper worked his way along the curb with a broom and dustpan.
“Do you see Bob Wolfson anywhere?” Marla asked Vail as they paused by a plaza sporting a fountain with dancing waters and with palm trees ringed by red clay borders. A lady stood outside the open door of El Guerrillero, a souvenir shop where mannequin heads graced the top of a poster advertising hair braids.
“Nope. He may have slept in this morning or gone on a tour. Maybe he’ll show up after lunch.”
She wrinkled her nose, sniffing garbage. “I’d love to find out what he does here.”
“Come inside! Maybe you see something you like!” yelled a store hawker as they resumed their pace. A hot breeze blew off the ocean, ruffling the hairs on their arms.
At the corner with an Aqua Safari store on one side and Good-mark Jeweler on the other, a seven-piece mariachi band played while onlookers gawked. The musicians wore white long-sleeved shirts and black pants with rows of shiny metal studs down the edges. They played beside a utility pole from which hung a blue and yellow sign: GOTTA GO TO GOODMARK JEWELERS. A middle-aged guy stood by filming with his camcorder. His wife watched, her shopping bag bulging more than her belly.
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