Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (40 page)

“He’s touching me!” yelled Todd. “Police brutality!”

Chuck squeezed again. His long fingers dug in under Todd’s collarbone and the weasel screamed like a five-year-old girl. “It’s her! It’s all her fault.”
 

Chuck winked at me. “Now that I believe.”
 

“It’s her fault!” yelled Todd as the cop handcuffed him above his hairy butt. I’ve never seen such a look of revulsion on a man’s face. Plenty of times on a woman’s, but never a man’s. Maybe guys are harder to gross out.

Chuck and the cop yanked Todd to his feet. He kept on yelling about me and how everything was my fault. I guess it was from his point of view. He wanted to kill Lucia and I ruined it. It was the first time fault sounded good.
 

“Yeah. Yeah,” said Chuck. “You would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that meddling blond.”
 

The cop shoved Todd in the back of the car beside his still screaming wife and leaned against the door. He wiped his round face with a red handkerchief and looked me over. “Are you Mercy Watts?”
 

“Your reputation proceeds you,” said Chuck.
 

“And follows me,” I said. “I’m Mercy. Why?”
 

“Tabora’s a fan.” He grimaced at the kids, who were still in some form of shock. “I guess I’ve got to take them in.” He looked at me hopefully.

“Nope. Not a chance. Those demons are going with you.” I pointed at the lovely bite mark on my calf.

“I had to try,” said the cop.
 

“I won’t hold it against you.”
 

Aaron walked up carrying an open to go box filled with baleadas. “You hungry?”
 

“So you were off getting food while I was wrestling the suspect to the ground?” I asked.
 

Aaron shrugged and offered the baleadas to Chuck and the cop. They each took one.
 

“Remind me why you’re my partner.”
 

“Tommy says.”
 

“Right.”
 

The cop herded the now crying Tara and Tyler into the car. I promised to be available for statements at La Isla Bonita whenever he wanted to take them, so I didn’t have to go to the station in a bikini. Chuck volunteered to go, saying he had to discuss extradition. He’d been ordered to take Todd and Tracy back to the States. The cop drove off and the crowd dispersed, looking vaguely disappointed that there wasn’t a second round of bikini wrestling.
 

“Wait a minute. You knew they did it and you didn’t call me?” I asked.

“My phone and luggage were stolen in the Managua airport. Then I got on a bus. By the time I got another phone, I was here and nobody was answering. Besides, I knew you could handle it.”
 

“What if I didn’t?” I asked, hands on hips.

“You did. I assume Lucia Carrow is still alive.”
 

“She is, just barely.”
 

“Works for me. I’ll see you two at the resort after I sort this whole jurisdiction thing out.”
 

“The Honduran government has jurisdiction. The crimes happened here,” I said.
 

“But the conspiracy started in the States. Did Pete tell you about his patient that was shot at Plaza Frontenac?
 

“Don’t tell me that was supposed to be Lucia?” I asked.
 

“Witness descriptions match Todd and we’ve proved he was in St. Louis driving a rental car that also matched. We’re hoping the Hondurans would rather get Todd and Tracy off their hands than deal with them.”

I got in Tracy’s golf cart to take it back to the resort. “Mind telling me why they wanted to kill Lucia?”
 

“You haven’t figured that out?” He grinned, looking quite rakish and handsome, despite his rumpled clothes and the bratwurst-shaped bruises on his face or maybe because of them.
 

“I’ve been busy trying to keep people alive, for your information.”
 

“They were trying to save their own skins. Todd and Tracy are accountants to the Todaro family. We think they were cooking the books and were about to get caught,” said Chuck.
 

“I thought they were crazy, but they stole from the Mafia? That’s suicide.”
 

“I agree, but that’s what it looks like. After the Fibonaccis had Angelo Accosi killed, they hatched the plan to kill Lucia as revenge.”
 

“What?” I said. “They thought killing her would make them even with the Todaros?”
 

“Looks like it.”
 

“Nobody works like that, especially not the mob. Lucia isn’t equal to an underboss. She’s a civilian. That would start a war between the families.”
 

“What can I say? That was their plan.” Chuck got in his rental car and sped off. Aaron stayed next to my cart, chewing.
 

“We’re leaving, Aaron,” I said and he trundled off to the other cart and I followed him back to La Isla Bonita. He ate the entire time.

Chapter 18

I PARKED MY golf cart next to Aaron’s, picked three more embedded pieces of gravel out of my thigh, and climbed out like I’d aged thirty years, complete with the old man groan. Aaron gave me his empty to go box and ran away as fast as his little chubby legs would carry him.

“Thanks!” I yelled after him.

I tossed the container in the recycling bin and told the girl in the office that we’d brought back the carts. She barely looked up from her
Vogue España.
Okay. Catching would-be murders 0. Beauty tips 1. I left and walked down to the scuba shop to find out if anyone knew how Spitball was doing. I assumed he was at the hospital as any normal person who had been stabbed would be. Spitball wasn’t normal. He was at the counter, explaining how the open water certification process worked to a new group. His side was bandaged with what looked like an old sheet. There wasn’t any blood, so that was good. He saw me standing at the top of the stairs and waved. Then he finished with the newbies and they signed up to start the course the next day.
 

One of the women asked, “May I ask what happened to your side?”
 

“Just a scratch. Got to be careful when you’re moving equipment.”
 

Everyone nodded in agreement and left the shop. Spitball grinned at me. “So here she is, the conquering hero.”
 

“Well, we got them, if that’s what you mean,” I said. “So you’re calling that wound a scratch?”
 

“Ain’t nothing. I got worse fighting for the last pork chop. Five brothers.”
 

“You should be at the hospital.”
 

“I been there before. No, thank you.”

“Can I take a look?” I asked.

“If I got a problem, I’ll call you. So did Todd and Tracy confess?”
 

“No, but it looks bad for them. My cousin showed up and he’s trying to get them extradited back to the States.”

“If he really wants to punish them, he should leave them here. Honduran prisons ain’t no joke.”

“I bet, but the States want them. How’s Lucia?”
 

“Shitty. Todd came within a hair of killing her. She went hysterical on the beach and Graeme wasn’t there. Luckily, your Aunt Tenne stepped up and got her back to her room before people started asking too many questions.”
 

“You’ve managed to keep this quiet? You were stabbed. Not to mention all the attempts on Lucia and Graeme.”
 

“Hell, yes, we kept it quiet. This is our business. Todd and Tracy ain’t our fault. I’m not gonna let those bastards drive tourists away.”
 

“It’s going to be all over the news. Maybe you can drive the tourists in. You’ll never get murdered on our watch. You know, that kind of thing. Notoriety is a draw,” I said.
 

Spitball scratched his stubbly chin. “You might be right. La Isla Bonita, the safest resort on the island. We’ve never lost a tourist.”
 

“Are you saying some resorts have lost tourists?”
 

“It happens occasionally. You can’t stop stupidity.”
 

I left Spitball mulling over marketing and wandered down to Graeme and Lucia’s bungalow. I knocked and Graeme answered the door. Wracking sobs burst out behind him and drove me back a step. That and Graeme’s appearance. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

“Mercy, thank god it’s you. What happened?” he asked with a raspy throat.
 

“We got them. Todd and Tracy are in custody. It’s over now.”
 

He hugged me so hard that all the air whooshed out of my lungs. Just that made it all worth it, even the pebbles still embedded in my butt.
 

“Mercy,” called out Lucia.
 

“Yes, it’s me.” I could see her stumbling out of bed behind Graeme. “Don’t get up.”

“She should get up,” said Aunt Tenne behind me. I turned to see her with Mom and Dixie. They reminded me of the three Fates, all wise in their own way.
 

“I don’t know,” said Graeme.
 

“I do.” Aunt Tenne came onto the porch and walked right past Graeme, bumping him into the door frame with her wide hip.
 

Before I knew what was happening, Mom, Dixie, and Aunt Tenne had gotten Lucia dressed, combed her hair, and powdered her nose. Lucia said nothing. I think she was too surprised. They hooked their arms through hers and led her out into the afternoon sunshine.
 

“We’re going to get a drink,” said Mom. “Care to join us?”
 

“Um…” said Graeme. “Maybe we should stay here.”
 

“No, you shouldn’t,” said Aunt Tenne. “Life didn’t stop. Let’s live it.”
 

Without another word, they went down the walk with Lucia, chattering about her lovely hair and what drink was best. Did she prefer ice or blended? Sweet or sour?

“I don’t know what to say,” said Graeme.

“That’s okay. It wouldn’t matter if you did.” I steered him out the door. “They’re going to do what they’re going to do.”
 

We followed them through the maze of paths to the restaurant. Mom ordered a slew of drinks and started to take Lucia down to the the water. For the first time, she pulled back. “I can’t go down there.”
 

“Take it from me,” said Aunt Tenne, “you have to.”
 

“We’ll be with you and Mercy’s right behind. You’ve never been safer,” said Dixie.
 

“What about me?” said Graeme. I guess he’d never been seen as incidental before.
 

“And Graeme,” said Mom with a tone that said he was practically useless in such situations.
 

My family took Lucia down each step, slow but steady. She shook and Mom held her tighter. She cried and Aunt Tenne whispered encouragement in her ear. “Don’t let them take the ocean away from you,” she said. “It’s too precious.”
 

They stepped on the sand and Lucia’s shoulders twitched. The three fates crowded close and walked her to the water’s edge, stopping just short of the gentle waves. The water was its usual ice blue and the reflected light danced over our skin. I don’t know what was going on in Lucia’s mind, but mine was flooded with moments of panic. Remembered fear that was no longer real, but certainly felt real.
 

A boat went by and pushed in waves. My family held firm and the waves hit their feet. Lucia gasped and hands stroked her back.

“There. You’ve done it,” said Mom.
 

“The water is perfect,” said Dixie.
 

“It can’t hurt us,” said Aunt Tenne.
 

The waves kept coming, rushing around their ankles and creeping up their calves.
 

“Our clothes will get wet,” said Lucia with a much stronger voice than I expected.
 

“They’ll dry,” said Mom.
 

Lucia stepped forward and the women of my family stayed right with her moving as one, the way they always moved with me. Right there. Ever present in love. Soon their hemlines were soaked and then their skirts floated up around their waists, twisting and flowing like petals around lovely stems.
 

“So these are the people who raised you,” said Graeme, smiling.
 

“I think they’re still doing it,” I said. “I’m not done as far as they’re concerned.”
 

A waiter came up with a huge tray of drinks. “Where would you like these?”
 

We found an empty table next to some loungers and then waded in ourselves and delivered the drinks. Graeme and I didn’t stay. Lucia didn’t need us. We lay down on the loungers and watch the brilliant sun creep across the sky.
 

I fell asleep and when I woke, Chuck was in Graeme’s spot, wearing touristy garb and drinking a Honduran beer. “About time. You’re going to sleep away your last day on the island.”
 

“I deserve a nap. A hundred naps. This was the unvacation.”
 

“You look hot.”
 

“That’s less important to me than you think.”
 

“What I think or whether you’re hot?”

“Both.”
 

“Liar.” Chuck drained his beer and asked for a dark replacement. Since Honduras doesn’t really do dark, he and the waiter settled on a Salva Vida.
 

I stole his beer as soon as it arrived and glared at him. “I’m not lying.”
 

“Yeah, right. You want to hear about Todd and Tracy or what?”
 

“Or what.”
 

Chuck ignored me, like the rest of the family did, and proceeded to tell me that Todd and Tracy hadn’t confessed. I didn’t expect that they would. This was real life not
CSI: Miami
. The surprise was that they wanted to charge me with assault, multiple counts.

“Was Todd wearing clothes when he made this request?” I asked.