Once we’re on the ground and out of the plane, I look for Cuba again, but it’s disappeared into the ocean. Why don’t the Cubans and Haitians putt-putt over here in their boats instead of taking the treacherous trip to the states?
Everyone in Matthew Town is friendly. You’d think we were long-lost family. I start asking at the airport if anyone knows Alex Rodgers or Amanda Adams. The taxi driver knows the Safety Stop. He thinks the girl on board is called Mandy, but he hasn’t seen them in a couple of months. We stop for lunch at the best restaurant in town, according to our driver and the sign in the window. Looks like the only restaurant in town.
Ellie, a thirtyish woman with skin so pale she must never go outside here in the land of sunshine, points us to a table, takes our order, and probably cooks the meal. She sort of remembers Alex when we show his picture. The bank isn’t open on a Saturday, but Ellie says the manager, Mr. Pinder, left the restaurant ten minutes ago and headed for the grocery store up the street. This is going to be quick and easy. Everyone knows everybody and everything that’s happening in town.
We leave our meal and run to the grocery. I ask the gal at the checkout if the bank manager is there and she points to a small round black man with pure white hair.
Allison walks over to him and offers her hand. “Hello, Mr. Pinder, I’m Allison Rodgers and I’m looking for my brother Alex. People say you may know where to find him.” She flashes him one of her most charming smiles and he returns it.
He holds onto her hand. “So sorry, Miz Rodgers. I haven’t seen your brother for some time.” His English sounds British with only a trace of the musical Bahamian accent that the others in town speak.
“But I’ve sent money to him at your bank recently. How could he pick it up if he’s not here?” Oh, she’s such a good liar.
“Maybe he’s on Mayaguana. We have a branch there and the routing would be the same.”
“Do you have an address for him?” Allison allows him to keep holding her hand.
“I believe it is a stateside address, and I could not give it to anyone.” He’s still smiling. “But I know from seeing him around town that he was living on a boat called Safety Stop. That’s not private information, it’s local gossip.” He laughs. A deep throaty sound.
Allison takes back her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Pinder.”
“If you are staying for awhile, stop by the bank and say hello.”
Back to the restaurant to finish our interrupted lunch and then we head for the marina. Same information there, no more, no less. I guess this isn’t going to be quick and easy.
“What next?” Jeremy asks.
“I’d like to see the flamingos and huge iguanas somewhere on the island.” After all this is vacation, sort of.
“Business first, Pratt.”
“Okay. On to Mayaguana. Should we rent a boat?” There’s a nice catamaran at the marina.
“How far is Mayaguana?” Bert asks.
I walk over and ask the man at the marina. Sixty miles from the other end of Inagua, which is forty miles long.
“Too far, Pratt. We can hop over by plane in less than an hour.” Jeremy spoils my fun.
“I guess this isn’t a laid-back Bahamas vacation?”
“Work first—play later.” He gives me a pat on the bum.
#
From the air, the two islands are totally different. Mayaguana is green and Inagua is brown and white, desert and salt. How can two islands so close have different climates? When we are close to Mayaguana, slashes appear in the green. It looks like the construction going on in southwest Florida. I researched Mayaguana on the net—a sleepy, easygoing island with few people. But I guess the developers found it.
Jeremy flies low all the way around the coastline. Boats cluster at little villages and a couple move along the coast. One sits at the east end of the island, anchored inside what looks like a reef. A good diving spot. Could it be the Safety Stop?
The huge modern airport sits in the middle of a construction site. Unbelievable on an island that’s supposed to have a population of three hundred. Definitely in the hands of developers. We take a taxi to a new resort and marina, which are works in progress. No one has any idea who or what we are talking about, but they suggest we try Abraham’s Bay on the other side of the island. The same taxi takes us to the marina, which is actually a government dock.
A customs man knows the Safety Stop. Says it’s somewhere diving and should be back in the harbor tonight. No boats are available to rent. He suggests we book rooms for the night at the new resort or local inn here on the harbor. If they don’t return, he’s sure we can find someone who will rent us a boat in the morning.
Off we go with the same driver to a cute little inn. We could have walked. We check in and plunk ourselves at waterfront tables to watch what’s coming and going. Sunset is around six-thirty and it’s not even five. This could be a long wait and I’m really itchy. I can’t seem to relax and enjoy the view. Allison looks twitchy, too.
“Anyone for a walk?” I ask.
“Allison and I can sit and watch for the boat,” Bert offers. “Snoop around if you like.”
“Okay, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” I grab Jeremy’s hand and head down the street.
There’s the inn, a church, a few houses, and a small store that looks like it carries a little of everything. Just like home. That’s the whole town in a thimble. A few people have gathered to buy fresh fish at the dock. They all wave and say hello as if we were neighbors. The town is lazy and warm and quiet. Before we know it, we’ve left the town and are walking along a road wide enough for one car and full of cracks and potholes. We’re accompanied by the birds, creatures scurrying through the brush, and the ocean lapping the beach alongside the road.
“What’s bothering you, Pratt?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you walking fifty miles an hour?”
“I want this job to be over. Wish we could go find Alex instead of waiting.”
“You were flying high this morning.” He grins.
“Funny, Jeremy. Are you going to teach me to fly?”
“Maybe.”
But I was flying high. Thought it was over and I was on vacation. But what’s really bothering me? It’s not waiting for Alex.
“Are all the bad guys locked up?”
“The Colombians are still out there.” He grins at his own joke.
“What do you think happened to the drugs?” That’s what’s bothering me.
“We’ll probably never know. Don’t get your brain in a twist over it.”
“Life is not going to be peaceful for all my new found friends if people keep hunting the drugs and killing people. Are Susan and George safe? Is Manuel safe? How about Mom? She’s been writing about all this.”
“All of the bad guys are dead or in jail.”
“Humph. All of the bad guys? Everyone was looking for the cocaine— Florida dealers, New England dealers, who knows, maybe even Colombian dealers. It doesn’t make sense. And I can’t see that stopping if they haven’t found the goods. There must be others involved that we don’t know about.”
“What do you want to do, Pratt? Look for the cocaine? If the people involved don’t know where it is, how are you going to find it?”
“I don’t feel like it’s settled, even if we do find Alex today or tomorrow. I don’t feel like I’ve done my job.”
“You’ve found George, Manuel’s mother, and hopefully Alex. You even found Farrell and rescued his wife and kids.
“I didn’t exactly find anybody. They just fell from the sky.”
“What more do you want? You’ve done a good job, Pratt. We can celebrate when Alex arrives.”
“If he shows up. Let’s go see.” I turn and head toward Abraham’s Bay.
When we reach the little town, a schooner has dropped anchor in the harbor, and a forty-something-foot motor yacht is headed for the dock. It’s much bigger than I pictured the Safety Stop. I move closer to t
he water for a better look. It could be a dive boat—looks like tanks on the deck. Two people work at securing the boat, a man and woman.
“Alex!” Allison comes running toward the dock. I move to get out of her way and my foot finds open air. Reaching, grabbing to keep from falling, I get a handful of Allison’s shirt. We tilt and thrash and tumble together into the harbor. We surface sputtering to see Jeremy and Bert leaning over the wall looking worried. The two from the boat come down the dock to join them. If this guy is Alex, he looks nothing like his picture, but who can tell through all that hair and beard.
“Hey, Alley-cat.” He sits on the wall and grins at us. “Whacha doin’ here?”
“Are you going to help us out of here, Alexander, or just sit there smirking?” Allison splashes water at him without much effect. We’re about six feet below him.
“Try the ladders.” He points. “Or better yet, I’ll meet you at the boat.”
Allison and I swim over and pull ourselves onto the dive platform at the stern. Jeremy, Bert, and the two people I assume are Alex and Mandy stand grinning at us. Allison shakes herself like a dog, since no one has offered us towels. I pull my mobile in its new bright yellow raincoat from my pocket. It shows five bars. Wow!
“Why haven’t you called me?” Allison asks her brother.
“No phone service.”
I hold out my cell for all to see. He lies. I had programmed my SIM for BaTelCo before we came to the Bahamas. According to my provider, I could have used them, but paid a lot more.
“I didn’t want anyone to find me.” Alex flashes a grin.
“Ernie found you,” Allison answers. “She’s very good at finding people.”
I raise my hand. “I’m the guilty party. Ernie Pratt, PI.” I know I’m blushing at Allison’s praise. I haven’t done much of a job of tracking people. I’ve been bumping along on blind luck.
“But no one knows where we are,” Alex says.
“The banks know.”
Alex gives me a narrow-eyed glare and says nothing. Does he suspect I know about all his money?
“Aren’t we going to introduce ourselves? I’m Mandy. I take it you know Alex.” Mandy is slim, athletic, tan over freckles, with short, curly reddish-brown hair and smiling green eyes.
We introduce ourselves, and Mandy suggests we go inside the boat. She grabs a couple of towels for Allison and me on the way in. “I have some dry clothes if you’d like to change.”
“It’s okay. We have clothes at the inn.” The boat is roomy and gorgeous. I stick my head in front and rear to look at the staterooms. Mandy tells me there’s another one below.
“You don’t need to stay at the inn. We have plenty of room on the boat.” Alex has his smile back. “I want to catch up on things with Allison.”
“Oh sure. You hide for months and you want to catch up. All you had to do was call me.”
“Sorry, Sis.” He gives her a hug. “I wanted you to have a chance with your marriage without me around complaining. But it was cool that I could hide from you for six months.”
“Hah! I found you.” She gives him a friendly shove. “But you were right about Tony. We’re getting a divorce. Might be your fault, though, since I’ve been spending all my time looking for you.”
“Oh, Allison, I’m sorry.” His sad tone doesn’t match the twinkle in his eyes.
“Let’s eat. Then the two of you can spend as much time as you like telling stories.” I leave the boat and head for the restaurant. The others follow, with Allison and Alex trailing, talking in hushed voices. I can’t help but tune in. My curiosity radar is turned to high.
“I beat you this time.” Alex laughs. My God! He does laugh like Allison. The same har, har, har.
“What are you talking about?” Allison is not smiling.
“I beat you and Tony at your latest moneymaking scheme.”
“Tony and I have no money making scheme. He’s in school and I’ve been searching for you. I haven’t paid any attention to money.”
“It was your money.”
“Tony wiped out my account.”
“We’ll talk about it later. People might be listening.” Alex ends the conversation.
Interesting. What's that all about? Maybe Allison will tell me.
#
After shower, clean clothes, and dinner, we all return to the boat. Jeremy, Bert, and I sit on the deck drinking beer and getting to know Mandy.
“I talked to your dad,” I tell her. “He’s anxious to get you and the Safety Stop back.”
“He has plenty of boats, and Alex is paying him rental. He only wants me back working for him. Free help.”
“He knew you were taking it?”
“Sure, he said go ahead. But that was in the slow season. Business is booming by now.”
“Are you island hopping?” Bert asks.
“And diving. Do you dive?”
“Never tried it.”
Allison and Alex are sitting at the end of the dock in private conversation. I try to listen but can only pick out a word here and there. I hear Farrell’s name mentioned and my ears tune in. Key words register on my brain. Drugs...refugees...cocaine... How does Alex know about the coke if he hasn’t seen Farrell and crew for months?
“No!” Allison’s voice rises above the sound of water. “People were hurt, killed. It’s not a game.”
The wind shifts and their voices disappear into the night. A “har, har, har” floats through now and then—his and hers.
#
The room at the inn is small and the bed is only a double. It’s too quiet and too dark. Lying in bed next to Jeremy, I can’t move and can’t sleep. I can tell by his breathing he’s not sleeping, either. I crawl out of bed and manage to get to the window without banging into anything. Outside is pitch black: no moon, no streetlights, no glow from civilization. I can’t see anything except a sky full of blazing stars.
“I guess your job’s finished.” Jeremy stands next to me. I didn’t even hear him move.
“Yeah, I guess.” Somehow, I don’t feel like it’s finished. “Did you hear the conversation between Alex and Allison?”
“Some.”
“I’ve been thinking about what I heard. Maybe Alex was in on the drug deal. And how can Allison be innocent about her husband Tony’s involvement?”
“You have a good imagination, Pratt.” He puts his arm around my shoulders. “Come to bed.”
Sunday
Chapter 47
Another startling bright morning greets us in the Bahamas. Jeremy, Bert, Allison, and I eat breakfast outside a little café that is part of the inn.
“What are you going to do now, Allison?” Jeremy asks.
“I guess I’ll spend some time with Alex and Mandy on their boat.”
I finally feel like I earned at least part of the ten grand she gave me up front. I tracked down Alex. Yes!
“Are you staying or coming with us, Bert?” I ask.
“I have a few days before I lose my job. Maybe I’ll learn to dive. I might talk Allison into going to New York with me.” He gives her a sappy look.
“You two can stay on the boat, too, if you like.” Allison offers, even though it’s not her boat. “There’s plenty of room.”
“No thanks. Jeremy and I are going island hopping by plane and he’s going to teach me to fly. Aren’t you, Jeremy?”
Jeremy rolls his eyes.
“Our phones work here, Ernie. Maybe we’ll give you a call for a ride home,” Bert says.
“Yeah, but you need my Bahamas number. I programmed it for BaTelCo.”
“Me, too.” Bert pulls his from his pocket and we swap numbers.
I notice mine has messages. Must be Mom. She’s the only one with this number. Alex and Mandy are headed our way. I’ll get it later.
“You guys wanna go diving?” Mandy asks.
“Jeremy and I are flying out.” I answer. “We have a reservation for tonight at Crooked Island.”
“We could bring you back t
his afternoon. Won’t take long to fly there.” Alex drags two chairs to our table. He’s shaved and cut his hair. He looks like Allison; even their expressions are the same. But pale skin, where his beard grew, makes him look like a raccoon.
“I’m not that interested in diving,” I tell him. “Snorkeling maybe. If I was going to stay I’d rather check out the wildlife.”
“We’re headed for Northeast Point and Booby Cay. Plenty of wildlife on the cay, and you can snorkel.” Mandy straddles a chair. “Come on. We like company now and then. We’ve been alone so long, we barely know what to say to each other anymore.”
“Bert and Allison will be with you.” I don’t know why I’m resisting.
“The more the merrier,” says Alex.
I look at Jeremy who smiles and nods. Oh, well. We can always stay at the inn another night if we get back late.
#
Hanging over the rail of the Safety Stop, I can see right to the bottom, see fish swimming, even seaweed growing on the sand. It’s cleaner than a swimming pool. The color is something else. Depending on the depth, it’s green, aqua, brilliant blue, and beyond the reefs where it drops off to unbelievable depths it’s dark royal blue, almost purple. It’s calm today, no real waves, just a gentle undulation, reflecting sunlight in moving patterns, like liquid glass or crystal. Not like the murky water around Florida
We set anchor behind a reef with rolling surf splashing the outside and perfectly calm water inside. Allison pairs off with Alex for a dive and Bert with Mandy for a lesson. Jeremy and I don snorkeling gear, plus T-shirts to protect us from the sun, and we swim for the reef.
This is amazing. Fish of all sizes, some wearing cartoon colors, swim in and around live coral. Most of the coral around Florida is dead rock, even in the Keys. Pollution and rising water temps. This reef is alive and dancing in sunlight barely filtered by the clear water. I could spend all day hanging around watching this alien world, even if I turn into a prune.
A school of tiny silver fish parts to swim around me. A big ugly grouper sticks his nose out, opens his mouth, and wags his tongue at me. He makes me laugh and I surface for air, choking. Not supposed to laugh under water. I see Jeremy, looking like a floating corpse except for an occasional wiggle of his flippers, staring at the undersea world. I swim over to see what holds his attention, and he points to the white sand beneath us. The sand moves and a manta ray miraculously appears, gliding away, dark and graceful and mysterious.
Mangrove Madness: An Ernestine Ernie Pratt Mystery (Ernestine Ernie Pratt Adventures Book 1) Page 27
