Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (32 page)

Aaron gave me a butter knife, because of course he would have one on him at all times. I unscrewed the faceplate and took it off. Inside the latch assembly was more blue stuff. It was stiff and tacky and reminded me of plumber’s putty. I’d never seen blue putty, though, and Dad had about six different kinds. At some point he’d gotten the idea that I should be able to do simple plumbing repairs. I thought I should find a hot plumber instead, but Dad insisted on teaching me how to do stuff I never actually intended to do.
 

I sniffed and, although it was hard to detect over Aaron’s fishdog stink, it did smell like putty. Someone had messed with Joe’s door. It wasn’t a crime of opportunity. They planned it, but not well enough to get the right guy.

“You’re just asking to get arrested, you know that?” Tabora came up beside me and squatted.
 

“I have a key and Joe’s permission. You can call him,” I said.
 

“He’s not here?” It wasn’t really a question. Tabora wasn’t surprised.
 

“Not at the moment.”
 

“He’s going to pay the kidnappers, isn’t he?”
 

“How should I know?” I asked.

“Because you’re calling the shots. I looked you up. Your father’s famous in the law enforcement community.”
 

“He is. I’m not.”
 

Tabora peered in the latch assembly. “What have you got there?”
 

I broke down and told him my theory about the putty. He stood and leaned on the doorframe. “Where’s Joe?”
 

“That depends on what you’re going to do,” I said.
 

“I’m supposed to catch the perpetrators and charge them with multiple crimes.”
 

“But…”
 

“I’d like Mr. Thatcher to live and get off this island.”
 

I leaned on the doorframe and sized the cop up. He seemed sincere and local law enforcement wouldn’t want an international incident anymore than the local hoods. An American man kidnapped and murdered a week before his wedding would garner some serious interest.
 
“Joe’s in a bar, letting his intentions be known,” I said.
 

“What about the money?” asked Tabora

“What about it? Joe says he can get it.”
 

“He could in the States. This is Roatan. Nothing moves quickly.”
 

I screwed the faceplate back on. “What do you suggest?”
 

“I might be able to get access to some lempira. Joe will have to pay it back. Call me when they contact him,” said Tabora.
 

I stood up and stepped inside, wrinkling my nose at the smell. “I will.”
 

“What do you expect to find in there?” he asked.
 

“Maybe something to do with Lucia and Graeme. It doesn’t hurt to check again,” I said.

Tabora smiled. “I knew you weren’t in there to seduce Thatcher.”

“What gave me away?”

He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Your eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of truth in that statement.”

I couldn’t resist. “You bought the trash can thing.”
 

Officer Tabora laughed. “Not even for a moment, but we didn’t have enough to hold you anyway.”
 

“So I was humiliated for nothing.”

“My companions believed every word, if that makes you feel better.”
 

“It doesn’t,” I said.
 

He paused and became thoughtful. “Miss Watts, are you planning on being with Joe at the exchange?”
 

“If it’s possible, I’ll be there.”

Tabora nodded and walked away with his shoulders hunched. Aaron and I went inside and the situation had not improved. I should’ve brought gloves. Going through pockets and reaching under beds without them wasn’t the best idea.
 

We went through the room, every pocket and every drawer. Nothing that pertained to Lucia or Graeme. The burnt paper was gone out of the trash can. I guessed that Colin had flushed it. Probably lists of his markers. As if flushing them would erase his debt.
 

“That it?” asked Aaron.
 

I nodded and we left, locking the door.
 

“Mercy, what are you doing?” Mom was on the path with her hands on her hips.
 

“Uh…nothing,” I said.
 

“Nothing. You just broke into a kidnap victim’s room.”

“I have a key.” I held it up to prove it.
 

“You have a key? That’s great. Just because someone lets you in, doesn’t mean you have to go,” said Mom.
 

It kinda does.
 

Mom’s voice went up. “Are you listening to me?”
 

No, not really. When do I ever?

“Yes, Mom. I’m listening.”
 

“You can’t get involved with that kidnapping. It’s bad enough that you got involved with the Carrows’ problem.”
 

“I thought you liked them,” I said.
 

“I do,” said Mom.
 

“Then what’s your point? You want me to let Lucia get killed, so I won’t mess up our vacation?”
 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I want you to stop looking for trouble.”
 

“Trouble comes to me. Giftwrapped,” I said.
 

“Well, don’t open the package. I’ve had enough of this with your father. You’re supposed to be a girl.”
 

“There are girl detectives, you know.”
 

“But you’re not one. You need to remember that,” said Mom.
 

I crossed my arms. “Then stop making me work for Dad, if you don’t like it.”
 

That stumped her, a feat I’d never before accomplished. She couldn’t have it both ways. I don’t think she’d ever thought she couldn’t have exactly what she wanted. I had to admit her track record said she could.
 

“We’ll talk about this later,” said Mom.
 

“If later means never, I’m totally for that,” I said.
 

“It means later. Come on. You have to talk to your aunt. She’s serious about this gardener.”
 

Now she’s my aunt.

Mom took my arm and I gave a pleading look to Aaron, who was polishing his butter knife on his shirt. Hopeless.
 

“Just let it go, Mom,” I said. “He’s a nice guy.”
 

“You don’t know the whole situation.”
 

“Because no one will tell me.”

“That’s beside the point,” she said.
 

“Not to me. And I’m not going to talk to Aunt Tenne about this. She can do what she wants.”
 

“She doesn’t know what she wants. I’m her sister. I always take care of her.”
 

I walked off toward the restaurant with Aaron trotting behind me.
 

Mom yelled after me. “I made some calls!”
 

I halted and Aaron ran into me with an oomph. “What calls?”
 

“I know people. Your father knows people.”
 

“Tell me you didn’t have Bruno put on the terrorist watchlist.”
 

“Not yet. Talk to Tenne. She’ll listen to you. She thinks you walk on water,” said Mom.
 

“No!” I yelled. “I will not!

“Yes, you will!”
 

“Then tell me why!” I yelled so loud, my throat felt like it’d been strip-mined.
 

“I can’t!” Mom yelled back.
 

“Fine! Stay right there.” I stomped up the stairs to my room, flung open the door so that the glass rattled, and grabbed my lock picks. I went back down and took Mom’s arm.
 

“Where are we going?” she said, while trying to wiggle out of my grip.
 

“To see why you should leave Bruno and Aunt Tenne alone.”
 

“There’s nothing on earth that could convince me of that.”
 

“Don’t count on it.”
 

I dragged Mom through a maze of paths and promptly got lost. Aaron took over and we arrived at Bruno’s door in five minutes, instead of the twenty it would’ve taken me. I knocked on the door. No answer, so I opened my lock pick case.
 

“No, no, no,” said Mom. “This is breaking and entering. We are not doing this.”
 

“Why’d you let Dad give me this kit then, if I’m never supposed to use it?” I asked.
 

“I…I…”
 

Score!

“This will only take a second and then I want you to back off Bruno, okay?”
 

“Fat chance.”
 

I stuck my picks in the lock and listened for the click, which came faster than I expected. I turned the doorknob. “You know, Mom, I’ve never understood that phrase. Fat chance means the chance is big, right? So in this case it’s accurate.”
 

Mom crossed her arms. “I’m not going in there.”
 

“Aaron,” I said.
 

He poked Mom in the back with his butter knife. She yelped and turned on him. “You think I should go in there?”
 

“You’ll listen to Aaron and not me?” I asked.
 

“Aaron is sensible.”
 

“How can you tell?”
 

We looked at my partner, who was now picking his teeth with the butter knife. Sensible was not the word I’d use.
 

“Go in,” he said with the knife still in his mouth.
 

“Alright. Then I will.” Mom flounced in and I waited outside.
 

“Why does my mother like you so much?” I asked Aaron.
 

He kept on picking his teeth and shrugged. “Everybody does.”
 

I considered the statement and it was true. I’d never met anyone who didn’t like Aaron. He was like a panda, fat and odd-shaped, but nevertheless irresistible to the general population. I’ve never been a panda person, though. I didn’t get it.
 

Mom stepped out of Bruno’s room, white-faced and silent.
 

Oh, crap! Has Bruno slashed the paintings or put blood on them or something?

I squeezed past her and peeked in the room. The paintings were intact and there were a few more. Bruno had moved on to yet another technique. Chiaroscuro, if memory served. Aunt Tenne was painted as the Madonna, nude from the waist up, and so beautifully done in light and shadow it made me a bit breathless. Rembrandt would’ve been jealous. I left the room reluctantly and relocked the door.
 

“So what do you say now?” I asked.
 

Mom gazed at me with big green eyes filled with tears. “He’s a genius.”
 

“He is, but even if he only loved Aunt Tenne that would be enough. Call off the dogs. If she’s making a mistake, so be it. She’s been sad my whole life. Bruno makes her happy. Who cares if it doesn’t last? At least she’ll be happy for awhile. That’s better than nothing.”
 

“I’m worried about the fall,” said Mom. “She can’t handle it.”
 

“We don’t know what will happen, but I do know something should happen. She’s been alone too long.”
 

Mom hooked her arm through mine and we walked back to the restaurant. Dixie and the Carrows still sat at their table, laughing. The Gmucas were at the bar, probably ordering more drinks for me to throw on cruise ship passengers.
 

“There you are,” said Dixie. “We were just talking about taking a glass-bottomed boat tour. What do you think?”

I looked over at Lucia and Graeme. Their color was good and they’d both eaten. “How do you feel?”
 

“Great,” said Lucia. “This whole thing has been weighing on me. I’m so glad it’s over.”
 

“Over? Since when is it over?”
 

“We heard that the cops are looking for that Colin character.”
 

“I never liked him,” said Graeme. “He always looked stoned. The cops think he’s the reason Andrew was kidnapped. Didn’t you know that?”
 

“I did, but that doesn’t mean he tried to kill you and Lucia.”
 

“Who else could it be? Nobody else was there every time something happened,” said Lucia.

Aaron ran off to the bar and I sat down, feeling tired again. Lucia had a point. No one else was around at all the incidents. He was diving with us during both scuba incidents and I’d seen him in the vicinity during both poisonings. Colin as a hitman. It was a little weird, but what wasn’t in the world of crime?

“Colin is the suspect at the moment,” I said.
 

“But you’re not convinced,” said Graeme, his fingers drumming the table.
 

“Not yet. We have zero evidence.”
 

“We have motive,” said Dixie. “He has gambling debts.”

“That’s true,” I said. “It’s probably him. Dad always says that crime is crazy, but it has a certain logic to it.”
 

Dixie smiled. “If it looks like a duck, it ain’t a freaking camel.”
 

Mom burst into laughter and we joined her, causing half the restaurant patrons to stare in our direction.
 

Dixie dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “That was something my husband, Gavin, used to say.”
 

Mom and I waited for her to start weeping, but she didn’t. Her dark eyes were sad, but there was a remembered happiness in there, too.
 

“But it might be a goose,” I said. “That’s how my dad always finished Gavin’s saying.”
 

“I’m not sure what that means,” said Lucia.
 

“It means that most murders are exactly what they look like. If it looks gang-related, it probably is, but it might not be the gang you originally suspect,” I said.