“Somethin’ like trouble in Paradise?” Steve asked.
“You might say that, mate.”
“A lot of trouble could be found here if a man took a notion to go lookin’ for it,” Steve informed me.
“Well,” I said, “I believe my friend to have found more than he could handle.”
“If it be the transfer of illegal substances that your friend be involved with, then I might be of help to ya mate, but it ain’t here that ya need to be.”
I wasn’t sure if it was Steve’s drunken state of being that prompted him to make any decisions dealing with the matter. I knew though that sooner or later I was going to have to take someone into my confidence and explain the situation as it really was.
When we got back to the boat we proceeded to further indulge our intoxication as Steve entertained us with his endless stories of adventure. The last thing I remember before lapsing into unconsciousness was Tom and Steve arguing about sixteenth century English history.
I awoke the following morning with beads of sweat rolling off my face. Insufficient ventilation of the forward cabin was the reason and as I got up to rectify the situation, my thoughts began to focus on the plan of the day.
Living on a boat in the islands, one can get a general idea of the time of day by the amount of heat from the sun that has collected below decks. I figured it to be around noontime and that I had better get things going. Over coffee I thought about Steve’s offer the night before and decided that it was, at this point, our best bet.
Either the smell of coffee or the heat below decks soon had both Tom and Steve up and about. With the three of us up topside sitting around the cockpit, I had a chance to ask Steve if his offer the night before in helping us find some information on Bruce was still good.
He assured us that he knew people in Nassau that were knowledgeable of most of the illegal doings that transpired here in these parts of the Bahamas. He went on to say that if Bruce was involved in the business, there was a good chance that someone he knew in Nassau would have known of him.
Steve then offered us a deal. For a ride to Nassau, he would investigate for us any information he could find about Bruce. It had now been about two weeks since the incident with Bruce and I didn’t want to waste any unnecessary time.
“How quickly can you be ready to go?” I asked Steve.
“I’m ready now.”
“What about your gear?”
“This is it,” he said producing a tooth brush from his back pocket.
Talk about traveling light, this guy had it down to a science - one t-shirt, a pair of swim trunks under his jeans, a pair of sandals, a hundred and fifty dollar pair of sunglasses and his toothbrush. From its appearance, I would have taken bets that it held more substance of unknown origins between its bristles than any man’s teeth possibly could.
“Ok, then, we’re out of here,” I said.
Chapter 6
After topping off the fuel tanks and clearing customs, we were pounding a smooth ocean surface on our way towards Nassau. Although most of Steve’s work as an engineer involved working on large diesel engines, he was familiar with the twin pack of power the boat harbored below deck. When I suggested that he handle the controls for a while, he smiled like a kid being offered the cookie jar.
The whole time he was at the controls he kept expressing his enthusiastic appreciation for such a finely designed power boat. From down below deck I could hear Tom encouraging Steve to apply more power to the props.
It didn’t take long for us to get to Nassau. As we entered the harbor we could see the many cruise ships lined up at the docks. Steve suggested we proceed further into the harbor and away from the many commercial endeavors that cramped the immediate entrance of the harbor.
We ended up at a marina that seemed to serve the needs of the local boats. Steve said that he knew the guy that owned the place and that the boat would be safe there. Steve was an amiable type so it didn’t surprise me to see the welcome he got as we walked into the office of the marina.
After securing the boat and clearing customs, we all headed for town. Nassau was the main port of call for Steve’s ship so that explained why he knew so much about it.
The downtown section of Nassau was crowded with tourists. I assumed that most of the people were off the large cruise ships that we had seen on our way into the harbor.
We first stopped at a small bar and had a few beers. Inside the bar I overheard two guys arguing over something. Each was speaking a different language and I don’t think either knew what the other was saying.
After downing a few we headed for one of Steve’s favorite restaurants. Then, after our meal and a few more beers, Steve said that he was going to check on some possible leads on Bruce. He then suggested that Tom and I try out a particular bar that was down by the docks. Before Steve left he asked me for the picture of Bruce that I had brought with me into town. From the picture, it was evident that it had been taken not too long ago. Bruce looked just as he had two weeks earlier.
In the picture, Bruce was standing beside a bright red Porsche. He was dressed as casually as he had been that night I met him. Bruce stood about six feet three inches tall, somewhere around the two hundred pound mark and while, by no means a weight lifter, one who seemed as though he could hold his own.
I remembered the look on his face that day when he turned to show me that he had been shot in the arm. Despite that and the loss of enough blood to cover the controls that his hands were on, he maintained enough composure to pilot the boat. I found myself hoping that there was some chance he had managed to get away from those that were chasing him that day. Even if it did mean that all that money back in West Palm Beach would be his. The deal with his father would still be good for a cool million.
After Steve left, Tom and I headed for the docks to find the bar. We had agreed to meet Steve there around midnight. If he couldn’t make it back in time it was agreed that we would meet back at the boat. As we walked into the bar it was obvious that this was a pretty popular place for the tourists as well as the local folk.
The place was huge and had large TV screens at either end that were showing popular music videos. With a packed crowd, we had to push our way back to the bar. I had to yell at the bartender just to be heard over the noise of the crowd.
After paying for a couple of beers, I suggested that we try to find a place to sit down near the back and away from most of the noise. Towards the back, the crowd thinned out and we were able to find a table. It had a couple of drinks on it but the seats were empty and we reasoned them to be ours.
“Look!” Tom said as he pointed to the men’s room sign just a few feet away from the table.
“Yeah, great seating choice,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
Inside the men’s room the noise of the crowd subsided enough that I didn’t need to yell to be heard. My thoughts turned to Steve and I was hoping that he would be able to get some kind of a lead on Bruce. If he could, it would save us a whole lot of time trying to befriend someone else that might be able to help. Most people, especially here in the islands, are a little reluctant to associate with people they don’t know and are usually very suspicious of people asking questions.
On my way back to the table I could see that Tom had already made some new friends. Both were in the form of bronze-skinned women, each endowed with enough physical attributes to set nearly any man to make a fool of himself with his attempts of persuasion.
“These ladies claim that we have taken their seats,” Tom informed me.
His offer of the use of his lap didn’t go over too well but my offer to order up another round of drinks as well as find a couple more chairs was enough to persuade them to stick around. I could see that the tables outnumbered the chairs in this place.
With a ‘leave your seat, lose your seat’ attitude, I grabbed two chairs from a couple who decided to take up dancing.
“Here we go,” I said as I slid the chairs up to our table.
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Tom introduced the girls as Ava and Evonne and informed me that they both worked on one of the cruise ships that was in the harbor. They had both just recently arrived from Europe and were looking for a little island adventure of their own.
They explained to us that the ship they worked on was cruising from the Bahamas to South America. The hours passed by quickly and Steve still hadn’t returned. I was hoping that it meant that he was onto something but couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous at the same time.
We all decided after waiting an extra hour for Steve that we would head back to the boat. Ava and Evonne were both curious about this boat that Tom had been telling them about and after we assured them of a cab ride back into town later, we headed for the marina.
Back on board, Tom gave our guests the grand tour of the boat. They, like most all before them, were impressed. Who wouldn’t be? You didn’t have to be into boats to appreciate the money and power this boat projected.
Through the course of the conversation the girls mentioned that they had some free time in the next two days before their ship headed south to St. Thomas. Either one of these women could have owned my heart but I was taking a distinct liking to Ava. Perhaps it had something to do with our mutual liking of jazz or the fact that we both enjoyed sailing.
At around three in the morning, I found myself starting to nod off and excused myself, informing all that I was headed for bed. I asked Tom if he could call the cab for Ava and Evonne and then extended to them the use of the two extra side berths below should they want to stay over. With that I headed down below and straight to bed.
I think that part of my reasons for not staying up was due to a little guilt I was feeling about leaving Linda and two days later enjoying the company of another woman. I was wishing that Linda could have been a little more adventurous like Ava. Does man think by brains alone? I thought as I lapsed into sleep.
The next morning I woke to the sounds of someone in the galley and got right up thinking it was Steve. Entering through the doorway, I found Ava making coffee.
“Hey! Good morning,” I said. “I’m glad to see you stuck around.”
“I hope you don’t mind me making coffee,” she said.
“Not a problem,” I said. “Got any extra?”
“I made a whole pot.”
“Have you seen Steve?” I asked.
“Steve?” she asked.
“Yeah, Steve is a friend of ours. He was supposed to meet us last night but never showed up. I was hoping that he’d be by this morning.”
“What time is it?” I heard a voice ask. Turning, I saw Evonne in the port berth that was situated across from the galley.
“Twelve thirty,” Ava replied.
I went up topside and found Tom asleep on the rear deck cushions. After getting him up, I went back down below and had some breakfast with the girls.
“So what are you and Tom doing today?” they wanted to know.
“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “Why?”
Evonne said that they were going parasailing and wanted to know if Tom and I would like to go along. I told them that I wanted to wait around for Steve to get back but after that we were free for the day.
“You could leave Steve a note telling him you’re over on Paradise Island at the beach,” Ava suggested.
“You can’t miss the place,” Evonne added.
“Well, let me check with Tom,” I said.
I went back up topside to find that Tom had fallen back to sleep. Waking him this time, I asked what he thought about the parasailing idea.
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “What about Steve?”
“We can leave him a note telling him where we’re at. I hope nothing went wrong with him asking questions about Bruce,” I added.
“He’s ok,” Tom insisted. “He told me he had a couple of girl friends here and I’d bet that’s where he is.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said.
“You worry too much,” Tom insisted.
Before heading out, we left word at the marina as well as a note on the boat for Steve suggesting that he come on over to the beach where we would be. It was a quick ride over the bridge to Paradise Island and in no time we were spread out on the beach soaking up the sun.
Ava and Evonne both had pretty well developed tans and mine, from the time spent on the vagabond sailors’ boat two weeks earlier, was enough to hold its own. Tom, on the other hand, was quite the sight. From the neck up he could have passed for someone born and raised in the southern latitudes but, with him standing there in his cutoff jeans, he looked more like a recent transplant from the far north from his neck down to his toes.
We spent that afternoon swimming and parasailing up and down the beach. I halfway expected to see Steve show up but as the sun began to set I started getting anxious to get back to the boat thinking that he would be there waiting for us.
On the way home, Tom was already beginning to feel the effects of too much sun on places that it hadn’t shone on for a while. I was relieved to see Steve sitting up topside on the boat as we made our way down the dock.
“Is that your friend Steve?” Ava asked as we neared the boat.
“Yeah, that’s Steve,” I said.
“Hey, guy, I’m sorry I didn’t leave a key to the boat with your friend at the marina,” I said as we boarded the boat.
“That’s ok,” he said. “I’m just getting back myself. Looks like you guys wasted no time in making new friends,” Steve said as we introduced him to Ava and Evonne.
I explained to him that we had met them the night before at the bar near the docks.
“By the looks of Tom’s feet, I’d say the four of you spent some time at the beach today, right?” he asked.
“We spent most of the time parasailing,” Evonne informed Steve.
When I asked Steve how things went he said pretty well and then asked if I would walk up to the marina with him. As Steve and I headed back up the docks Tom suggested that he and the two girls would see about putting some dinner together.
Before leaving the States, Tom and I had purchased enough food to feed ourselves for a month. We were not sure about being able to find the food we liked here in the Bahamas.
On the way up the dock Steve handed me a portion of a newspaper. Upon opening it up I took notice to a story heading that read:
“New York Man Found Dead At Sea”.
My first thought was that Bruce was from Florida, not New York. I read on:
“Authorities found the body of a New York man today
and have identified him as Kevin Flowers. . .”
Damn, I thought to myself, so much for any hopes of him pulling through. The article went on to say that it was believed to have been a drug related incident. Something I found interesting was that the paper said that Kevin was from Rhinebeck, New York. Rhinebeck was a place I was very familiar with. I had grown up about a hundred miles from there but spent many a weekend there at an airdrome where they flew old World War One airplanes in the weekly airshow.
As a kid I grew up around airplanes. My uncle ran the local airport which was only a few miles from our house. It wasn’t much more than a few thousand feet of grass but from there he taught many a person, including myself, to fly airplanes. I actually learned to fly a plane before I could drive a car.
You couldn’t legally be a licensed pilot unless you were eighteen but that never stopped Tom and me from many times pushing one of those little yellow planes out of the hangar and taking off for some illegal flying. Of all those memories from that time in my life the best were of the flights to Rhinebeck with my uncle in one of the little J-3 cubs. It seemed that besides Viet Nam, Kevin also had New York and Rhinebeck in common with me. I wondered if he had been a pilot.
“So what do you think?” Steve asked.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s the guy I was telling you about. Did you find out anything about Bruce?”
“I think so,” he said.
I showed the
picture to some people who told me that Bruce has spent time here and that he was hanging around with some French people who live over on Paradise Island.
“Do you have an address?” I asked.
“Sure do,” he said. “Right here.”
“Great,” I said taking the piece of paper with the address on it.
“Anything else?” I inquired.
“Well, that’s all anybody wants to say at this point,” Steve informed me. “A lot of people or most, actually, don’t want to jeopardize themselves by talking too much. Here in these islands one must be careful.”
We agreed that the following morning would be the best time to check out the house of these French people that Bruce had been seen with. I asked Steve if he wanted to hang out and have dinner with us but he told me that he had to get back to the ship to prepare for a trip south.
“South?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. We will be leaving Monday sometime for Guadeloupe.”
“Guadeloupe?” I asked. “Where is that?”
“South about a thousand miles,” he said.
“Do you usually go that far south?” I asked.
“Only when we go into dry dock,” Steve informed me.
He went on to say that every two years or so they would haul the boat out of the water and give it a going over. Being constructed of wood made that pretty much necessary.
“Well, that’s a long way to go, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yeah, but it actually is cheaper in the long run because labor rates are so low there.”
Steve and I agreed to meet at the boat early the next morning. He took off on his little moped and I headed back to the boat.
Back on board, dinner was ready and as I sat down at the table, I handed Tom the newspaper clipping that I had gotten from Steve. As Tom read the article Evonne inquired as to what it was about.
“About an American they found dead around here,” I told her.
“What did he die of?” she wanted know.
“It seems that somebody shot him,” I said bluntly.
Adventures In A Pair-A-Dice Page 7
