by Junie Coffey
“What are you doing?” asked Nina.
“Mrs. Davis waits for her mail every day. I feel bad when all I have to give her is junk mail. Flyers for two-for-one burgers and her electricity bill. So, when there’s something good, like a card from her daughter or a letter from one of her old friends in Dallas, I put it on top.”
He hopped out of the cart, grabbed the package from the backseat, and bounded up the front steps two at a time. He rang the bell, and seconds later an elderly lady with freshly sculpted white hair wearing a sweater set and tan pants opened the door. She smiled when she saw Danish. He handed her the package and the bundle of letters, waved good-bye, and bounded back to the cart.
Nina turned to face him. “Kiki said Tiffany complained about Barry putting the condo company shares in her name,” she said. “Tiffany didn’t care about them. To her, it was just a piece of vacant land and a pipe dream. But it’s his obsession. He couldn’t divorce her without losing his stake in the project. Maybe she was in the way of both his personal life and his business, so he got rid of her.”
“Yeah,” said Danish. “I can see that. He’s probably more capable of planning and executing a serious crime than Tiffany. She generally doesn’t do anything more strenuous than drive into town to get her hair done, which from what I can tell, involves sitting for two hours with tinfoil on your head, cucumber slices on your eyes, and your feet in a tankful of little fish who eat the dead skin off the bottoms of your feet. I’m serious. You should come by the inn and check it out. It’s hilarious.”
“I’m sure,” said Nina, who decided not to mention she’d perhaps done similar things in the name of beauty.
They drove back to Nina’s house.
“I’ve got a few more deliveries to make,” said Danish. “I’m working at The Redoubt later if you’re thinking of stopping in. See ya.”
“Thanks, Danish,” said Nina, jumping out.
She poured herself a glass of iced tea, mulling over the morning’s events. She wandered out onto the veranda and sat down, looking out at the horizon, replaying the scenes with Lance and Jules and Kiki in her head.
Nina had been sitting on her veranda for a while, she didn’t know how long, when she heard a loud knock on the door followed by Danish’s voice hollering, “Hey, Nina!” He appeared on the veranda before she could get up from her chair.
“Guess what?” he said as he threw himself into a chair beside her. He continued without waiting for her to reply. “I just went to the beauty salon in town to deliver their hair-products shipment, and Carrie told me that this morning Barry got a ransom note from Tiffany’s kidnappers. It said they wanted three million dollars or he’d never see her again. Carrie heard it from her cousin Danielle, who’s a data-entry clerk at the police station.”
That put a twist in things. “Wow. So, does she know what Barry’s going to do? I’ve really go to meet this Carrie sometime,” said Nina.
“Carrie’s sister-in-law Loretta cleans the Bassetts’ house, and she’s there now. Carrie said that Loretta called a while ago to tell her that when she got there this afternoon to work, the police were pulling out of the driveway. We probably went right by them this morning and didn’t see it because of the hedge.” He paused for a moment. “We probably drove right by the kidnappers! Do you remember passing anyone on the road out there?”
“No,” said Nina.
“So, anyway,” said Danish, “Carrie said Loretta went in the kitchen, and Barry was pouring himself a glass of champagne. He even offered her some. She said no. He took a sandwich and a bag of potato chips and went into his study, and then she could hear the football game he recorded last night playing on the television. Loretta called back a half hour later to say she could hear him snoring through the door. Apparently, he has a comfy sofa and a big-screen TV in there.”
“So, at least we know he doesn’t care about his wife,” said Nina.
“He’s not exactly rushing right down to the bank to withdraw the ransom or sitting by the phone waiting for the kidnappers to call,” said Danish. “I think he did it, and he knows her body is somewhere the police will never find it. Like in Shark Alley.”
“Danish. What a gruesome thought. I’m going to have nightmares now. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” she said, and then she walked him to the door.
8
The next morning Nina was lying in bed reading with a cup of coffee in her hand when she was startled by the sound of someone pounding on her veranda door.
“Hey, Nina! Rise and shine!” It was Danish’s voice. Nina wiped the spilled coffee off her arm, quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and her sweater, and padded out into the front room. Danish’s face was pressed against the window, and he was peering into the room. She opened the door to let him in.
“I chartered a boat to take us into the cays so we can look for Tiffany. Let’s go,” he said. Nina poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.
“That sounds like a very bad idea, Danish,” she said. “Aren’t the police on the case? I have other plans for today. I’m going to paint my living room.”
Danish rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “What is wrong with you people? You move down here to the islands for a new life and then proceed to do exactly the same things you did up north. Where’s your sense of adventure? Let’s shake things up a little! We’re going to find that emerald necklace and restore it to my lady. You heard her, the whole exhibit is going to fall apart without it. When I find it, she’ll know my true worth, and we’ll live happily ever after.”
“I thought last night you said you thought Barry did it, and that he’s killed Tiffany and fed her to the sharks,” said Nina.
“Yeah, but what if he didn’t? Or what if he has a partner camped out somewhere in the cays with Tiffany tied up, waiting for some tax-free ransom money he’s going to pay to himself?” asked Danish.
“I don’t know if ransom money is a tax write-off,” said Nina. “You might want to look into that.”
She took a sip of her coffee and glanced around the room. She was looking forward to whipping the cottage into shape. But Danish was right, it could wait. The chances of running across Tiffany’s kidnappers were nil, and she was keen to explore the nearby cays. She looked out at the water. It was mirror smooth, not a whisper of a breeze wrinkling the surface. A beautiful, sunny day. A few hours tooling around the tiny islands trailing off the south end of Pineapple Cay like stepping-stones was beginning to sound like a great way to spend a morning. Let Danish amuse himself. She’d just enjoy the sights. She took another sip of coffee. Plus, on the off chance he did find Tiffany, he might need help avoiding getting killed.
“OK, Danish. Let’s go.” She gulped the rest of her coffee, slipped on her two-piece swimsuit under her cutoff shorts, and pulled a white T-shirt over the top. She brushed her teeth, splashed some water on her face, and smeared on some sunscreen. She threw a water bottle and a towel into her tote and put on her sunglasses. They went out the back door onto the veranda, the screen door slamming behind them. Danish started off down the beach a few steps ahead of her.
“It’s Ted’s boat,” he said over his shoulder. “He wasn’t going to do it; then I told him it was for you and me, and he said all right.”
Nina stopped in her tracks. About a hundred yards away at the water’s edge, she could see Ted Matthews leaning against his Boston Whaler, watching their progress across the sand. She suddenly felt ridiculous. Humoring Danish was one thing, but she didn’t want anyone else to think she was part of his nutty scheme to find the kidnappers and the necklace. Then again, she wasn’t part of Danish’s nutty plan, so what did she care what Ted Matthews or anyone else thought of her decision to take a boat ride through the cays on a lovely day? In five seconds, she had rationalized the whole thing and continued walking toward the boat, which was really all she could do at this point.
“Hi, Ted,” she said when she got close to him.
“Morning, Nina,” he said.
“Um, I didn’t realize you’d been roped into this expedition. I imagine you have more important things to do than go on a sightseeing cruise through the cays today,” she said.
“We are not going sightseeing, Nina,” said Danish as he loaded his knapsack into the boat. “I see you wore your bikini, but this is serious. We’re looking for the kidnappers’ hideaway, OK? I have to teach my yoga class at noon, so maybe we could get going now, eh, team?”
“Danish, really,” said Nina in a gently pleading tone, “why do you think we can find Tiffany Bassett when the police haven’t been able to locate her?”
“Maybe we won’t,” he said, turning around to look at her over his shoulder, “but maybe we will. The more people looking for her, the better, I say. Anyway, the police boats went north this morning, with scuba tanks. My guess is they are searching below the cliffs at Kiki and Jules’s place. So, we’ll go the other way.”
He and Ted pushed the boat out until it was floating free above the sandy bottom. Nina waded out and stood beside it. She sighed.
“Well, how about this. We go down to the park, and if we see anything suspicious, we’ll call the police, OK?” she said to Danish’s back as she glanced at Ted, who stood on the other side of the boat wearing his gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses.
“It’s OK,” said Ted. “I’ve got a couple of free hours, and it’s a beautiful day to be on the water. Let’s go.”
They all climbed in the boat, and Ted steered it away from shore and south toward Diamond Cays National Park. They flew along, and Nina gradually relaxed, leaning back in the seat and watching the coastline go by. They passed a string of pastel-colored vacation houses of various sizes and designs spread out along the beach south of Coconut Cove village, and then the shoreline was alternatively covered in vegetation or backed by sand dunes. They rounded the southern tip of Pineapple Cay, and the Diamond Cays lay spread out before them. Ted slowed down and followed the red-and-green channel markers, threading a course between the cays.
Danish sat cross-legged on the bow of the boat, looking through a pair of binoculars at the small islands as they motored slowly by them. Within the park, they were all uninhabited, their white-sand beaches devoid of any human activity, their interiors covered in dense vegetation. Tall coconut palms towered above the underbrush on some islands. The only litter on the beaches that Nina could see were fallen coconuts and brown palm fronds shed by the trees along the edges of the beaches. Some of the cays were just small lumps of sand and coral rock a few hundred feet long, with low-growing cacti and ground vines the only vegetation. The water was shallow, clear, and inviting. After they had been meandering around for about a half hour, Ted slowed and cut the engine.
“Why don’t we take a break,” he said. “It’s a hot day, and there isn’t a leaf stirring out here.”
He opened the cooler and handed Nina and Danish each a bottle of water, then took one for himself. They sat in the shade of the Bimini top and drank.
“The snorkeling here is good,” he said, looking at Nina. “Care for a dip?”
“Sounds great,” said Nina.
Ted opened a bench and took out three sets of fins and three masks with pipes attached.
“I’m going to stay topside and look out for suspicious activity,” said Danish.
“Suit yourself,” said Ted, handing Nina a set of snorkel gear.
“While you’re looking for bad guys, could you also please keep an eye out for big sharks in the area,” said Nina.
“I suppose,” said Danish, “although we’re not on vacation here. This is business.”
“Well, you’ve got to keep the troops fresh, right?” said Ted, unbuttoning his shirt. Nina turned away and slipped off her shorts, leaving her T-shirt on over her bathing suit to protect her shoulders and back from the strong sun. Ted had stripped down to his all-purpose khaki fishing shorts. She tried not to stare at his tanned torso as he also pulled on a T-shirt. She put on her fins and mask and sat up on the gunwale, ready to jump into the water, which was crystal clear and looked to be only about ten feet deep. The bottom was studded with big round clumps of brain coral and waving purple sea fans.
“If you’re scared of sharks, you might want to take off those earrings, Nina,” said Danish. “They like shiny things. I heard about a lady once, just got married on the beach at some fancy hotel. Got up the next morning and went for a swim wearing her shiny new wedding ring. Shark took her hand right off.”
“That is the island equivalent of an urban myth,” said Ted.
Nina took her earrings off anyway and threw them into the open top of her bag. She positioned the mask over her eyes and nose, making sure no strands of hair were breaking the air seal, put the mouthpiece in, and slipped over the side into the water. It was bathtub warm. She hadn’t snorkeled much, but she loved it. She put her face in the water and breathed in and out through the mouthpiece, kicking gently away from the boat, feeling the fins move the water. She spread her arms out and floated, looking down. A school of tiny striped fish swam by beneath her. She saw a giant red starfish on the sandy bottom. Three curious angelfish, flat as dessert plates with feathery fins waving in the current, swam up to her and lingered for a while.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over. Ted was beside her, pointing at a spot on his other side. Five or six cobalt-blue fish the size of her hand were mooching around the fronds of a clump of coral. Blue tangs. Below them floated a bright yellow-and-blue-striped grunt. Nina was mesmerized. She and Ted floated side by side over a forest of coral alive with multicolored schools of fish. They were everywhere. Reds, blues, greens, yellows, and purples. Some with stripes, some with scales gilded in contrasting colors. Red on blue, yellow on green. The coral was equally otherworldly. Waving fronds of vibrant color; beds of dense, velvety underwater shrubs; and yellow spikes of staghorn coral.
Suddenly, Nina felt a commotion behind her in the water. She spun around to look. She could see a paddle slapping the water next to the boat. She stood upright, treading water, and pulled off her mask and snorkel. Danish was hollering and pointing behind her.
“Shark! Nina! Behind you!” She spun around to look where he was pointing, but she couldn’t see anything. She whipped around again and swam as fast as she could toward the boat, legs scissoring hard, arms windmilling through the water. She grabbed the side of the boat and, with superhuman strength fueled by adrenaline, heaved herself over the gunwale and into the boat. She turned around to face the way she’d come.
“Where’s Ted?” she asked urgently.
Ted was swimming slowly toward the boat, his mask pushed up on his forehead, snorkel behind his ear. Danish was laughing. He was standing up on the bow of the boat slapping his knees.
“You should have seen yourself. Man, can you move when you want to!” he said with a hoot.
She got it. There was no shark. She pulled off her fins and leaped up on the bow of the boat. “Are you kidding me? You think that’s funny?” she hissed.
Danish backed away from her, but she kept advancing on him.
“It was hilarious. Oh, come on, Nina. It was just a joke. It was funny,” said Danish.
“Let’s see how funny you find this!” she said, pushing him into the water.
He hit the surface with a huge splash, sank, and then bobbed up again, sputtering. “Ah! That is very refreshing! Thank you. Fantastic!” he said, treading water. He dove under and came up on the other side of the boat.
Ted pulled himself up and into the boat. He looked at Nina. “You all right?” he asked, handing her a towel.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, drying off her face, arms, and legs, her heart still hammering. She sat down on the bench and watched Danish take a few more strokes back and forth beside the boat, then hoist himself up and onto it.
Nina threw her wet towel at him. “That was not funny, Danish. You could give a person a heart attack that way. You remind me of my brother, Eric, and not in a good way,” she said angrily.
“You ever pull a stunt like that on my boat again, and you’ll be swimming home,” said Ted.
“OK, OK. Sorry, man,” said Danish, raising his hands in surrender. He got to his feet and sat down next to Nina, putting his arm around her shoulder and squeezing her to his side.
“Aw, come on, Nina. I’m sorry. I really didn’t think you’d fall for that one. Really, I’m sorry. Forgive me?” he asked. He dug in the pockets of his dripping shorts and pulled out a sodden packet of Zig Zag rolling papers and two seashells. He slipped the wad of wet paper back into his pocket and held the shells out to her on the palm of his hand.
“Here. These are for you. I found them on the beach at the inn this morning. You have to get up early to beat the shell hounds who stay there. They pick it clean daily.”
He held a tiny, perfect pink trivia shell—a smooth, polished oval of delicate pink with a pleated texture. Its edges curled inward to make a cozy home for its onetime resident. Beside it was a tulip shell—furled and marbled, and white and orange, with elegantly tapered ends. Nina looked at him, then picked them up, cradling them in her own hand.
“They’re beautiful, Danish. Thank you. They’ll be a lovely souvenir of the time you tried to kill me with a very lame practical joke,” she said.
“I think it’s time we head back,” said Ted, starting the engine. They zigzagged through the cays and then back along the coast of Pineapple Cay to the Plantation Inn. Ted pointed the whaler toward the beach and drifted into the sand. They all hopped out into the knee-high water and pulled the boat up onto the sand in front of a row of tastefully landscaped beach bungalows, each with its own screened-in porch steps from the beach.
Danish swung his backpack over his shoulder and turned to face Nina and Ted.
“Thanks a lot, Ted. I’m sorry about the shark thing. It kind of overshadowed the whole looking-for-Tiffany aspect of our mission. She’s got to be out there somewhere. Maybe the kidnappers—or Barry—drove her out there in a boat and threw her overboard.”
