Mangrove Madness: An Ernestine Ernie Pratt Mystery (Ernestine Ernie Pratt Adventures Book 1)

by J. C. Ferguson

  Flying fish jump out of the water, scattering luminescence on the surface. Even that pretty sight is scary. What’s chasing them—a shark?

  I have to force myself to stay awake. I don’t even have a radio. At last, there’s a bit of light in the east. The sun will rise soon and I can sleep.

  #

  Water in my face startles me. Some guard I am. I must have drifted off. The ocean has turned choppy and the sun hangs over the horizon, shining in my eyes, blinding me.

  I tug at Bert’s shoulder. He rolls over and groans. “Rise and shine, little brother. Time to take over the watch.”

  “My watch is drowned,” he mumbles, eyes closed, burying his face under his arm. His eyes pop open when another wave washes over the side and hits him.

  I grab the top and try to close it. “Help me with this.”

  Jeremy sits up and pulls on the other side.

  Everyone is awake, and we go to work again tying down the top and bailing. Mandy digs through the supplies and finds energy bars for breakfast. My stomach growls with hunger, but not for energy bars. Yuk! Bacon and eggs sounds about right. Maybe one of Bert’s omelets.

  She passes around a bottle and then refills it from the little reservoir of water collected in the night. We’re going to do better with water than food. Maybe we should attempt fishing.

  “Anyone want to try sailing?” Jeremy asks.

  “If we open the canopy we’ll take on more water.” Mandy looks through the porthole. “We’re getting splashed pretty bad.”

  It’s my turn to sleep, and I try to settle on the damp floor. The rock and roll of the raft sloshes the energy bar around in my stomach. Hope I don’t heave. Where’s my iron stomach when I need it? I look for seasick patches in the supplies. I find some wristbands marked for motion sickness in the first aid kit and tie one around my wrist. “Anyone else feeling queasy?” Jeremy and Mandy play it tough and decline.

  Bert takes one. “How’s this thing work?”

  “It’s acupressure,” Mandy answers.

  “You mean it has needles in it?”

  “Pressure, not puncture.”

  Bert gingerly places it around his wrist.

  “Don’t know how it works, but it does.” My stomach has quit the bump and grind and I settle onto the floor. Now I can’t sleep. When I was on watch, I couldn’t stay awake. I lie here for what seems like hours, listening to the noise of the waves and the sound of the engine... What engine? I sit up and the sound goes away. I put my ear to the bottom of the raft again. “Is that an engine?”

  Jeremy looks out one side and Mandy the other. Bert leans down and puts his ear to the floor. “I hear it. You’re not entirely wacko, sister of mine.”

  “Can’t see a thing,” Jeremy says, “but we’ll show like a target with the bright orange cover.”

  He borrows my cell and dials. “Hey, Jim, are you coming for us in a boat?” He listens for a while and then hands it back.

  “What’s the story?” I ask.

  “No boat. They’re about to take off from Crooked Island in a chopper.”

  “Oh shit! The boat must be the bad guys. How can we make ourselves invisible?”

  “Harder to see us from a boat than the air,” Jeremy says. “We have everything turned off. They can’t track us.”

  “Hey, maybe it isn’t even the bad guys. Could be someone traveling between islands. Tourists or drug smugglers...” I grin at the others but no one else grins.

  Mandy scrunches down to listen. “It’s pretty faint. If I was diving, I’d say it was pretty far away. But this is through the bottom of the raft and waves are crashing. It’s hard to judge.”

  How are we going to attract the helicopter without attracting the boat? “If we turn on the radios and signals we’ll attract the boat. If we leave them off how’s Big Jim going to find us?”

  “I left your mobile on,” Jeremy says. “Big Jim can track its GPS. I don’t think the boat can.”

  “Boats have GPS.”

  “But they can’t track phone signals.” Under his breath he says, “I hope.”

  Looking west...I think it’s west...I can see clouds building. Must be the front Jeremy was talking about. Was it only yesterday? How is anyone going to rescue us in a storm?

  There’s that noise again. Definitely an engine. “Is that boat getting closer?”

  “Oh yeah, I saw it top a wave.” Bert’s face is plastered to a porthole. “It’s gone again, but they must have seen us.”

  A strange whistling noise starts in the top of the canopy. There’s a small hole and it’s getting larger.

  “Damn, they shot at us.” Jeremy pulls a gun wrapped in plastic from his knapsack.

  “I didn’t think you could bring guns into the Bahamas.”

  “I’m a cop, Pratt. Can’t go anywhere without a gun.” Jeremy replaces Bert at the porthole, motioning us to stay down, as if someone could hear him if he talked. Fat chance over the sound of the waves.

  “Talk to us, Jeremy. What’s happening?” I ask.

  “It’s a Go-Fast.”

  “What?”

  “A Go-Fast. A Super Smuggler. Low slung fast boat used to smuggle drugs.”

  “Can you see who’s in it?” Mandy asks.

  “Looks like two guys, not Alex.”

  Mandy manages a shrug lying in the bottom of the raft. “He wouldn’t do his own dirty work.”

  Did I hear a bang? Another shot? No holes this time.

  “They’re pulling alongside and shooting. But it’s too bouncy to aim.” Jeremy opens the side of the canopy a crack and points his gun through.

  Bam! Another hole appears. I definitely heard that one. They could sink us. Or kill us!

  Boom! An explosion in the raft as Jeremy shoots back.

  “Did you hit anyone?” Bert asks.

  “No, but I must have hit the engine. Smoke’s pouring out of it.”

  I can’t stand it. I peek out. Bang! Zing! Another hole appears not far above my head. I drop to the floor. It feels safer, but there’s nothing between us and the bullets but plastic, air, and thank the water gods, a bouncing Atlantic.

  I hear helicopter noise. Come on Big Jim! More shots fired. Wonder if it’s the chopper or the bad guys. How can I tell the story if I can’t see? I slide over to look in time to see the chopper drop a net over the boat.

  My phone rings. Big Jim. “Can you hear me now?” He lets out a peal of high-pitched laughter.

  Chapter 50

  “Ernie was the last to be lifted out of the water as the life raft sank,” Big Jim tells my mother. I can’t believe it was just this morning. I should be crashing, but I must be running on adrenalin.

  We’re all sitting around our living room talking, Jeremy, Big Jim, Bert, Mandy, and Mom, who is typing furiously on her laptop. I’m not sure if she’s writing a news story or a novel. Each of us tells her a different version of the last few days’ events. Mine does not include cowering in the bottom of the raft or almost puking my energy bar breakfast. I look at my wrist and realize I’m wearing the seasick band long after a shower and a change of clothes. My story also skips my screaming as they lifted me dripping in a sling from the water. The others seem to think it’s funny, but the damn thing broke my toe!

  Bert’s going to New York in the morning and Mandy’s going with him. My brother is so fickle. Three women in less than three weeks. Mandy’s never been to New York and she’s not ready to face her father. George took Susan to Boston to meet his parents. Manuel and his Mom are staying with their relatives in Fort Myers and Maria promised to visit us often. It’s quiet without the little guy at the house. It will be even quieter when everyone goes home. Just Mom and me and the cats. Oh yeah, we have Lucky. Susan left her dog for us to babysit.

  Mom looks up from her typing. “What happened to the bad guys in the boat?”

  “They’re in jail in the Bahamas,” Big Jim answers.

  “What about Alex and Allison?”

  “They disappeared. And we ha
ve no proof they did anything wrong,” Jeremy says. “Sorry Mandy, but your story isn’t enough implicate Alex. No one is talking about who sent the drone after us. The two men in the boat said their boss told them to find and dispose of us. Didn’t say who that boss was, either. Some Colombian is their story. So what’s new?”

  Bert raises his hand like he’s in school. “I remembered something. If you want to track the twins, you can.”

  “How’s that, Bert?” Jim asks.

  “I left my mobile on the boat. The new one with GPS. It’s programmed for BaTelCo.”

  “What’s the number?” Big Jim already has his phone in hand.

  Bert and I rattle off the number. He shares my amazing memory for telephone numbers.

  Jim repeats the number into his cell.

  “Bert, you’re gonna make a good PI when you decide to abandon the money and the women and join my business.”

  “Not ready for that yet, Ernestine.”

  I guess this isn’t the storybook ending where you wrap everything up neat and tidy. Lots of unanswered questions, people who should be in jail. And who are those Colombians?

  At least Manuel is with his mother. My family and friends are safe, even Grammy. We heard from her in Australia. Said they might head this way, soon. And I have this beautiful hunk, Jeremy, protecting me, even though most days I want to take care of myself.

  I did finish my first real case. I found Alex for Allison. “I hope we can do something about the twins. Seems they created trouble for a lot of people and caused a few deaths.” Maybe I’ll see if I can pin something on them. I could send an anonymous note to Tony telling him who ripped off his coke. Or should I just drop it? “Hey! They crashed our plane. Who’s going to pay for it? And the life raft?”

  “Insurance will cover most of it,” Jeremy says.

  “I know what I’ll do. Allison said send her an invoice. I’ll bill her for the airplane and the raft. Do you think she’ll pay?”

  <<< The End >>>

  About the Author

  J.C. Ferguson started making up stories virtually when she started talking and began writing them down shortly after. Her short stories and poems have been published in several magazines and anthologies. In 2014, Florida Authors & Publishers Association awarded the gold medal in Adult Fiction: Action/Suspense e, to Ferguson’s debut novel, The Janus Code. She currently resides in Southwest Florida.

  www.jcferguson.net