Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (33 page)

“There are outliers,” said Mom. “Thrill killers, for instance.”
 

“You think a thrill killer was after us?” asked Graeme.
 

“Not for a minute,”I said. “I think it’s money.”
 

“So Colin fits,” said Lucia.
 

“He does, but we’ll have to see when Tabora finds him.”
 

“If he finds him,” said Mom. “This island isn’t exactly easy to search.”
 

“As long as they find Andrew, I don’t care,” said Dixie. “So what about that tour?”
 

“I’m going to lay on the beach,” I said.
 

“We’re up for it,” said Graeme.
 

I stood up. “I’d rather keep you in bed, but if you think you’re up to it, I just need to do a wound check.”
 

Lucia sucked in her lips and gave me the big eyes.
 

“What did you do?” I asked.
 

“I sort of took the packing out.”
 

“Why in the world?”
 

“It was itchy.”
 

I rolled my eyes. “I still have to check it.”
 

“No more packing. It feels so weird.”
 

“Are you going to be difficult?”
 

Graeme stood up and laughed. “Probably, but let’s get a move on.”
 

Lucia and Graeme led the way back to their bungalow. He seemed completely normal and she wasn’t limping hardly at all. Mom and Dixie said they had to change and split off from us when we got there. Their bungalow was so clean, it was a relief after Joe’s disgustarama room. Lucia laid down and unwrapped her bandage. There wasn’t any pus, only good white granulation, a sign that healing was well under way.
 

“So?” asked Lucia.
 

“Alright. I give in. You’re looking very good, so I won’t pack it again. You have to keep it dry, though, and don’t overdo it,” I said as I rewrapped her thigh.
 

Lucia touched my hand. “Have you talked to my brother lately?”
 

“Nope. My phone died a watery death. Have you?”
 

“Only every day. I’m still not ready to tell him about the diabetes. Please keep it to yourself when you see him after we get back.”
 

“Maybe I won’t see him,” I said.
 

It was Lucia’s turn to roll her eyes. “Haven’t you learned anything about our family yet? You will definitely see Oz. There’s no way you can avoid it.”
 

“So have you told him about the stabbing and poison?”
 

“Not yet. I’ll tell him after Colin is charged,” she said.
 

“Sounds reasonable,” I said. “Just between the three of us, assuming Colin is charged, will he make it to trial?”

Lucia sighed. “I doubt it. And I won’t have any say in that decision. Aunt Calpurnia won’t ask me my opinion.”

“So she really runs the whole deal.”
 

“Just between us, yes. She’d like you.”
 

“She’d scare the crap out of me,” I said.

“I doubt it,” said Graeme. “You don’t appear to scare easily.”
 

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I agreed. What was scared anyway, if it didn’t have an effect? I’d been afraid for my life plenty of times. There were other times I should’ve been terrified, but I was too stupid to know it. Either way it didn’t seem to make much difference to me. I didn’t have an off switch. I just kept going, whether it made sense or not. I didn’t want to meet Lucia’s Aunt Calpurnia, though. It just wouldn’t be healthy.
 

I left after giving them a lecture on hydration and resting. Lucia and Graeme nodded, but they were listening to me about as much as I listened to Mom. I opened their door and found Aaron standing there, holding an extra-large glass.
 

“What have you got?” I asked.
 

“A synthehol smoothie. I invented it.”

“Imagine that. What’s synthehol?”
 

“Synthetic alcohol that doesn’t get you drunk.”
 

“So this is a fake drink?”
 

“No, it’s real.”
 

I took the drink. “You are so weird.”
 

“Don’t give it away.”
 

“I won’t.” I sucked down half of Aaron’s latest creation and went to change into my swimsuit. I found my remaining one-piece hung on the back of my bedroom door and it too had the seams ripping out. Was someone trying to tell me something? I wasn’t too big for that suit, was I? I drank the rest of my smoothie and felt pretty good, despite the fact that I was busting out of my seams. How much alcohol was in that thing?
 

“Aaron!” I didn’t let him in, but if he wasn’t there, I would’ve been shocked.
 

“Yeah!”
 

“I thought so. What was in that smoothie?”
 

He listed about twenty ingredients, including macerated blackberries, but only a shot of chocolate liquor. “You hungry?”
 

“Not anymore.” I found Chuck’s gift bag still stuffed in my suitcase and pulled out the teenie bikini.

Groan.

It fit like latex and I’ve never felt so obvious in my life. Then there was another obvious thing in the room. An idea that had never before occurred to me and I felt kind of stupid even thinking it, but once that thought got in there, I just had to ask.

I peeked around my door to find Aaron standing there with, you guessed it, another fishdog. Gross. “Aaron, why do you follow me around?”
 

“Tommy told me to.”
 

“Is that the only reason?”
This is so stupid.
“You’re not like in love with me or something, right?” I asked, wincing.
 

“Huh?”

Sigh of relief. Aaron in love was too bizarre to be seriously contemplated.
 

Wait a minute.
 

“Aaron, is there another reason you follow me around? I mean, a reason besides Dad.”
 

“Yeah.”
 

I waited and predictably nothing happened. “Okay. What is it?”
 

“Chuck.”
 

“What about him?”
 

“You won’t let him follow you, so I gotta do it.”
 

I ducked back in my room and put on my cover-up, which looked like used Kleenex. So Chuck wanted me stalked. Why did everyone think I was so incompetent? I hadn’t gotten killed yet. I hadn’t even gotten that close, only within say three hairsbreadth. Not too bad. I came out and Aaron followed me to the beach, right on my heels as usual.
 

“When did Chuck tell you to follow me?” I asked over my shoulder.
 

“He didn’t.”
 

I spun around and waited for Aaron to stuff the rest of his dog down his gullet. “So why are you following me for Chuck, if he didn’t ask you to?”
 

“He wants me to.”
 

“How do you know?”
 

“I know.”
 

Okay. That’s about as clear as chocolate ganache.
 

Hmmm. Ganache.
 

I found the perfect spot on the beach and ordered a Monkey Lala. Bruno was raking the sand in front of The Aviary and I suffered a wave of guilt. It didn’t happen very often, guilt, but something about Bruno made me feel worse than the time I stole Dad’s car, drove it around with fifteen friends stuffed in it like a clown car. They were drinking White Russians and guess what got spilled? The smell was unbelievable. Dad still couldn’t talk about that without veins popping out on his forehead.
 

Confession is good for the soul or so they say. I’d never found that to be true, especially after being grounded for three months, but I thought I’d give it another go. I handed Aaron my drink and squared my shoulders. Aaron started to get up.
 

“Don’t follow me,” I said. “I can handle this alone.”
 

Bruno spotted me at ten paces and leaned on his rake. I bit my lip and tried to look more regretful than I felt. I did feel guilty, but I wasn’t sorry. Now that was a familiar situation for me.
 

“Bruno, I have to tell you something,” I said.
 

“Yes.”
 

“I broke into your room.”
 

“Yes.”
 

“You’re not surprised?”
 

“No.” His face was as impassive as Aaron’s usually was.
 

“Why not? How often do people break into your room?”
 

“Never.”
 

Usually when I made that sort of confession there was a lot of yelling. I didn’t know what to do with the quiet, but the guilt was definitely worse.

“Do you want to know why I did it?”

“It doesn’t matter. You invaded my privacy.”

Oh, yeah. Privacy. I had so little of it, I forgot that other people did.
 

“My mother was going to put you on the terrorist watchlist to keep you out of the U.S.”
 

His eyes widened just a smidge. He was surprised. Thank goodness.
 

“She’s crazy. She would’ve done it. I had to show her your work. It was the only way.”
 

“My work is private,” he said.

“It still is,” I said. “It’s only Mom and she’s not that bad.”
 

“You said she’s crazy.”
 

“Well, there’s that, but she’ll back off and leave you alone.”
 

As much as she leaves anyone alone. Cringe.

Bruno went back to raking. I was not forgiven and it sucked. I settled back on my chair with itchy guilt weighing on me and with it unreasonable anger. I guess I could’ve let Mom go all Mama Bear on him. Is that what he wanted? Dixie came down and told me they were taking off for their tour and I watched Lucia and Graeme get into a water taxi with Mom and Dixie. At least that felt good. They were okay. It was our second to last day and we were almost in the clear.
 

I woke up with a fresh sunburn an hour later with three guys standing over me. I squinted at them.
 

“Haven’t you heard about sunscreen?” asked Mauro.
 

“The only sunscreen that works for me is called a tent. What happened? Did you talk to the right people?”
 

Spitball laughed and scratched the grey stubble on his chin. “I wouldn’t call them right, but we put the word out.”
 

“We bought a disposable cell phone. That’s the number we gave,” said Mauro.
 

Joe sat on the edge of my lounger and put his hands over his eyes. “What if it doesn’t work?”
 

“It’ll work,” I said. “Most kidnap-for-ransom victims are released when the ransom is paid.”

“How long before they call?”

“I’d give it a couple of hours. They have to get the message, think it over, and come up with a plan.”
 

Aaron jumped up and ran up the stairs to the restaurant.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Mauro.
 

“He probably thinks you’re hungry,” I said.

“He’s right. What do you think he’ll make?” asked Spitball.
 

“There’s no telling, but it’ll be just what you need.”
 

“You’re lucky to have him.”
 

“So I’ve been told.” I rubbed Joe’s back. “Have you called Andrew’s family?”
 

“No.” He got choked up and his voice came out in a tight rasp, “They can’t do anything. It’d be like torture.”
 

“Damn straight,” said Spitball. “We get him back first, then tell them.”
 

“I agree,” I said. “My cousin Chuck’s trying to get down here to help. He couldn’t get a direct flight. Last I heard he was in Venezuela.”
 

“Your cousin flew all the way to Venezuela?”
 

“Last time we talked he was getting on a flight to Nicaragua. He’s busing from there.”
 

“You got quite a family,” said Spitball, checking his oversized dive watch. “We got a crew going to Mary’s Hole in fifteen. Be back in a couple of hours. The shop can get us if you need.”
 

Mauro gave Joe a cheap cell phone and they went down the beach to
La Isla Bonita Two
, bobbing around in the water, and talked to Alex the captain. Joe hunched over the phone and stared at the blank screen. I patted him. “Take Aaron’s seat. He won’t mind. I won’t tell you to relax, since it’s not possible.”
 

“No kidding.” He continued to stare at the phone. “Does your dad handle a lot of kidnappings?”

“Hardly ever.”
 

He glanced up. “I saw on the news that two thousand kids get abducted a day.”
 

“They do, but those are mostly custody disputes. I meant situations like this. There aren’t many kidnap-for-ransom cases in the States. Dad only handled one that I know of.”

Joe moved onto Aaron’s chair. Every muscle in his body was tense and he gripped the phone like it was his only oxygen line. We watched the waves come in and out. I managed to turn off my brain by reviewing procedures like stitching and wound care. I found such details distracting. Joe couldn’t calm himself until Aaron came back. He carried a large serving tray laden with multiple dishes and laid it on the small table between our chairs.
 

“You ready?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.
 

Joe didn’t answer. He stared out at the ocean, gripping his phone.
 

“We are,” I said. “What did you make?”
 

“Mac and cheese with cheddar, gruyeré, and parm. The second dish is spätzle with cabbage, onion, and bacon. Where’s Spitball and Mauro?”
 

“They had a dive.”