I’m dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean, so we head for the boat. We slip into long sleeve shirts, hats, and sneakers, then head for Booby Cay in one of the two tenders, an orange inflatable. The four divers have another one at the reef with the dive flags up. When we pull the dinghy onto the beach, I hear a strange whirring noise and look up to see a pink cloud of birds flying away right over our heads. This place is magical. We walk inland through the brush. Hermit crabs dart and click in front of us, leaving small tire tracks in the sand. Some places the bushes are so thick we can’t pass through. No manmade paths on this island, but we find a path full of small hoofprints that leads to a pond and a group of half a dozen goats. Not exactly what I consider wildlife.
We wander around the edge of the pond away from the goats and sit in the almost shade of an almost tree. Nothing grows very tall here. I can hear noises in the shrubs, but no matter how hard I stare, I see no animals. A few flamingos float in and settle in the water. Something pops onto the path where we found the goats. It’s Bert and Mandy. Now that’s wildlife.
An almost invisible creature follows them through the undergrowth, nose in the air, sniffing at the mango Mandy is eating.
“You have a pet.” Jeremy points at the iguana, about three feet long. Biggest lizard I’ve ever seen.
Bert and Mandy turn to look and the iguana ducks into the branches.
Mandy sits in the sand and holds the mango toward the bushes. An ugly head pokes out, sniffing. She sits patiently, waiting. After what seems like an eternity, the iguana flashes his tongue, grabs the mango, and disappears again.
“They’re different than the ones in the Caymans.” Mandy stands and brushes herself off.
“Where are the twins?” I ask.
“Down for one more dive. They’re too much.” Bert shakes his head. “I’ve never seen two people so competitive. Every time they open their mouths they’re trying to outdo each other.”
“Have you thrown in the towel with Allison? I thought you might be getting serious.”
“Maybe, until I met her obsession, Alex. I’m not cutthroat enough to hang with those two.” Is this my brother talking? I always thought of Bert as competitive. He’s the only one in our family who’s ever been into sports or winning or making tons of money, which to me is just another way of trying to outdo the next guy.
“Bert and I wanted to know if you could take us with you,” Mandy says. “Hanging around those two feels like we’re on ‘Survival.’”
“Where are you headed?” I ask.
“Maybe I’ll go home for awhile and see my dad.”
“We’re flying in the opposite direction from the Caymans,” Jeremy says.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll grab a ride home somewhere along the way, or from Florida.” She looks nervous, unsettled.
“Something else is bothering you. What is it?” I ask.
“I probably have an overactive imagination, but I don’t trust those two together. Alex has been involved in something, and you guys must have heard some of what he was telling Allison.”
I’m happy to know I’m not the only one suspicious of Alex.
“I believe he’s the one who stole the drugs everyone’s been looking for,” Mandy continues. “Or as he would say, diverted them.”
“I heard some of that conversation,” Jeremy says. “But tell us what you know, Mandy.”
“I don’t know much, but I have a theory.”
“I’d like to hear your theory.”
“I’ve been around for all of it, but had no idea what was going on. I didn’t put anything together until you told me what’s been happening in Florida with Farrell and the drugs. Then I heard Alex and Allison talking. I think Alex discovered that Farrell refused the cocaine shipment. He knew the people involved and sent someone to tell them Farrell had changed his mind and would carry the cocaine. Alex arranged the pickup. He never showed his face in any of this. As far as anyone knew, Farrell was delivering the coke to Florida.”
What had I overheard between Alex and Allison? “Why did Alex say he’d beaten Allison at her own game?”
“I think at least part of the money for the missing cocaine came from Allison.”
Not our sweet innocent Allison. “No way! That’s impossible.” But was it? Maybe Allison had more than one motive to look for her brother.
“Well, if not Allison, her husband.”
A light goes on in my head. “The money that disappeared out of their joint account.”
“What money?” Jeremy asks.
“Tony emptied an account of a hundred grand. Allison figured he wanted to get his hands on it before the divorce.”
Bert is quiet. He sits staring at the sand with a funny look on his face.
“What’s the matter, baby brother? Another girlfriend down the tubes?”
“My judgment of character is not great, at least in women. But maybe she didn’t know about any of this.”
“She does now, and it doesn’t seem to bother her,” Mandy says. “At least we have enough sense to get off the boat when it’s sinking, so to speak.”
“What are we going to do about all this?” I ask. “Are we going to turn him in?”
“How can we turn him in?” Jeremy shrugs. “It’s all speculation and the drugs are long gone. The best we can do is spread the word and let people know to keep an eye on him.”
#
On the way to town in the Safety Stop, I shower and change in Allison’s room. I’m about to go on deck when I spot her journal on the nightstand. I can’t help myself. I grab it and stow it in my backpack. It will make good reading material when I get home. My conscience doesn’t shout or even whisper about taking it. Face it, Pratt. You’re pissed. Someone you liked doesn’t appear to have any morals.
Alex and Allison insist on taking us to the airport in a jeep.
“You sure none of you want to stay awhile? We’d love to have company.” Allison doesn’t look like she wants company. She’s smiling at her brother. It’s not what I would call a loving sister smile, it’s more like a little kid trying to think up some kind of mischief. She must know what he’s been doing and it doesn’t seem to bother her at all.
Will her journal tell me? Will she know I took it? Will she blame Alex? I’m not a good thief. I must look guilty as hell.
“You two want to catch up. You don’t need us hanging around,” Mandy says.
“We have to leave,” Jeremy adds. “A front’s due to come through tomorrow.”
“We’ll be returning to the Caymans with the boat in a couple of weeks,” Alex says. “We could drop you off, Mandy.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there.”
Allison gives me a hug and I return her hug without much enthusiasm. How can she ignore what her brother’s been up to? People dying and going to jail and getting kidnapped all because of what he did.
“Send me an invoice, Ernie. I must owe you quite a bit by now.”
“I’m sure I owe you.” I couldn't have put ten grand worth of work into finding Alex.
“No way! If it doesn’t add up to the deposit, keep the difference. It was definitely worth it, finding my wayward sib.”
So much money to throw around. Alex disappearing and Allison finding him must have been just another game for the two of them, like kids playing hide and seek.
Chapter 48
Jeremy lets me play pilot. It’s thrilling, adrenaline pumping, scary even. I love it. Luckily, most of the flying terms are the same as sailing, but there’s a lot more to keep track of. Things to watch all the time, so many instruments, observing outside in every direction, even up and down. He turned off the autopilot, and I’m trying to keep us on the straight and level. His voice gives calm instructions through my headset.
“There’s a plane following us,” Jeremy says.
“Following us? How do you know they’re following us? Maybe they’re headed the same place we are?”
“Not the way you’re flying. And they’re too close.
I’ll take the wheel.”
I take my hands off the wheel to let him fly and turn to look behind us. We jerk to the left.
“Feet off the pedals, too, Pratt.”
Wups! I forgot my feet control the rudder.
Jeremy takes the plane down a few hundred feet and my stomach does one of those funny things it does when an elevator drops too fast. The plane behind stays with us.
“Can they hurt us without hurting themselves?” I can’t believe an airplane is chasing us. “Looks like they’re right above us.”
“Hang on.” Jeremy does a quick roll to the right.
“Wow! Like Star Wars.” From Mandy.
The other plane turns to follow us and ends up above, again, where I can’t see. I hear a thump and our plane shudders.
“I think they hit our tail.” Jeremy rolls the plane to the left. Our stalker appears beside us. Crunch! Its wing hits our wing.
“Are they crazy?” Bert yells.
“That plane isn’t full size. There’s nobody flying it. It’s a drone.” As I watch, the little aircraft moves closer again, its prop tearing into our wing.
“Hang on! We’re going down.” Jeremy fights to keep us level. “Grab your life vests, under the seats. Get that package behind you, Bert—the one that says life raft.”
He punches buttons on the dash and starts talking on the radio, telling the world we’re in deep shit trouble. I retrieve my cell in its waterproof wrapper and punch in nine-one-one. It rings, but there is no response, nothing but static. I talk to the static, telling them where we are and what’s happening. Like talking to myself.
Will my phone survive the water? Strange thing to be thinking as we plunge toward who knows what. The big question—will we survive the water? Put on your life jacket, Pratt. Easier said than done. I struggle to get it from under the seat, wiggle into it, then realize I have it on over my seatbelt. Wiggle out, unfasten seatbelt, wiggle in, fasten seat belt.
What about Jeremy? He can’t put his on while he’s flying. I can’t pull it from under his seat while he’s flying, either. My mouth feels like cotton. Fear? I grab a bottle of water and start chugging. No, Pratt! Save the water for when we’re waiting to be rescued. I stuff two bottles inside my life jacket and start searching for some of those energy bars we stashed on the plane. When my pockets are full, I peek out the window.
Holy shit! Waves are right below us!
Jeremy eases the airplane down, but we slam into the water. Bam! We skip a couple of times like a boat going too fast over heavy chop. We’re floating. The engine is quiet. Waves bang against the windows; water washes over us.
Jeremy opens the canopy. We all climb onto the wings, which are starting to sink. “Get away from the plane.” He jumps into the water holding his life jacket.
We follow him in and somehow manage to swim in the same general direction. Bert and Mandy are each dragging a package, and I’m miraculously holding onto my backpack. Bert’s package explodes into a life raft, and we climb in, dripping and panting. Our airplane has disappeared into the deep.
No Bert. “Where’s Bert?” I scream. I can’t lose my brother. I’d die if I lost him.
His head appears over the side. I drag him into the raft. “What the hell are you doing scaring me like that?”
“This thing nearly drowned me and that’s all you can say?” I can understand how Allison felt about losing her brother.
Just as we’re getting settled, the drone hits the water not fifty yards away and a wave threatens to swamp us. We all scurry to bail water. Jeremy finds a small bilge pump and gets it going.
Finally, the boat floor is almost dry. I use a T-shirt to soak up leftover water and ring it out over the side. “Where are we?”
“Adrift in the middle of the Atlantic, Ernestine.”
I make a face at Bert and his useless answer and ask again. “Where are we?”
“We’re about halfway between Inagua and Crooked Island,” Jeremy answers. “Adrift in the middle of the Atlantic.”
Monday
Chapter 49
A hand shaking my shoulder wakes me. I feel shitty, hung over. The bed rolls. Oh God! We’re in a life raft.
“Your turn, Pratt.” Jeremy hands me a bottle of water. We’re taking turns staying awake to watch for rescue or sharks or more tiny suicide airplanes.
Bert moans and rolls over, rocking the boat, which wakes Mandy. “What time is it?” she asks.
“One o’clock,” Jeremy answers.
Bert and Mandy both sit up and I pass them the water. The ocean looks calm and the moon is bright. “Do you think we could open the top and get some fresh air? Four sleeping bodies in a small space—it’s a bit ripe in here.”
Jeremy pulls back the top halfway. Cool damp salty air flows in.
“Everyone go to sleep,” I tell them. “My turn to watch.”
Bert says, “I’m wide awake.”
“Me, too,” from Mandy.
We all sit around staring at the water. How the hell did this happen? Who did this to us? Someone with lots of money. Or someone who stole the drone. Why? Why would anyone want to crash our plane?
“Who knocked us out of the sky and why?” Bert voices my thoughts.
“Could be some friends of the drug dealers we’ve been chasing,” Jeremy offers. “They could have followed us from Florida. Or we could blame it on the illusive Colombians.”
“Maybe someone was looking for Alex,” Bert says. “We led them to him, and now they figured they’d get rid of us?”
“For all I know it could be Gorilla Bob.” I get a chuckle with that one.
“Who’s Gorilla Bob?” Mandy asks.
I tell her the stories and get everyone laughing. You’d think we were sitting around at a party and not stranded on a life raft in the ocean.
At least we’re not going to die, for a while anyway. This is one amazing life raft. It holds all kinds of survival gear. Food, first aid, GPS, even fishing gear. It collects fresh water from the air at night. We could live for days in this thing. I hope we don’t have to.
“Maybe it was the military. Are we in a no-fly zone or something?” Bert starts the guessing game again.
“Come on, you know who it had to be.” Mandy sounds like she’s lecturing dumb kids. “It had to be the twins, one or both.”
“How do you figure that?” Bert asks.
“Who else? They have the money and the connections to get a drone, and they’re crazy enough to send it after us.”
“But why?” I ask.
“We’re the only ones who know where Alex is and what he’s been up to.”
“Do they know we know?”
“Why did I decide to leave all of a sudden, if not because of Alex’s activities?” Mandy asks.
“Because you couldn’t stand being around the two of them?”
“Well, that, too.” She chuckles.
“Yeah, and I was going to stay and play,” Bert adds. “Suddenly, I changed my mind.”
“You change your mind about women all the time, brother of mine.”
Bert makes a face at me.
“Okay, assume they suspect we know Alex has been smuggling drugs. But a drone? Where would they get a drone? I can’t believe they pulled that out of thin air.”
“The Coast Guard and the Bahamas use them for spotting smugglers,” Jeremy says. “But they don’t normally crash them into planes.”
“Alex made friends with this guy in Bahamian customs,” Mandy says. “Maybe he’s part of the drug smuggling scheme. Maybe he has access to the drone.”
I have Allison’s journal. It could tell us something. I drag out my backpack and borrow Jeremy’s light. The journal is there, soggy, wet, pages stuck together. The ink is blurred and unreadable when I pry it open. Justice, Pratt. You weren’t meant to steal anything. It might even be one of the reasons they decided to knock our plane from the sky. I don’t tell the others what I did.
Jeremy stares into the sky, unaware of my guilt. Nothi
ng to see but stars and a sliver of moon rising. “If what Mandy says is true, we can’t trust our rescuers, if there are any. Maybe we should turn off the signal and the light.”
“Before you turn off the GPS, where are we?” Mandy asks.
He turns on a flashlight. “We’re drifting in the right direction, northwest toward Crooked Island.”
“We can use the canopy like a sail,” she says. “Maybe we can navigate and not get caught in the Gulf Stream.”
“Not much wind right now. We can try it in the morning.” Jeremy opens his mobile. Water runs out. “Damn, I’ve got your problem, Pratt. Dead phone.”
“Here try mine.” I proudly present my yellow cell phone.
“Can’t believe you have a phone with a life jacket.” He punches a few different numbers, listening each time. “All I’m getting is static. Oh wait, I have Big Jim.”
Jeremy spends about five minutes trying to explain that we are floating on a life raft in the Atlantic and were brought down by a drone. He holds the phone to my ear and I hear Jim’s high-pitched giggle. “Jim, don’t tell Mom where we are. Tell her I’ll see her in a few days.” He laughs harder. Does he think it’s a joke? Will he send someone to rescue us?
When the others are sleeping and I’m staring into the nothingness, I brood on Jim’s amusement, trying to see the humor in our situation. This will make a great story at a party on dry land after we’re safe. Getting knocked out of the sky by a drone, Jeremy and I floating off into the sunset, like James Bond and the girl in more than one of his movies. Except Jeremy and I have company. And all the bad guys haven’t been caught.
I wish Allison was here to tell the tale. No, I don’t. She may be one of the bad guys. At the very least, she must have known brother Alex sent someone after us. Life is a game to them. And I’m not laughing. I’m cold and damp and scared shitless. We could float here forever, or someone could drop a bomb on us. How will we know if a plane is friend or foe?
Mangrove Madness: An Ernestine Ernie Pratt Mystery (Ernestine Ernie Pratt Adventures Book 1) Page 28
