Just Different Devils (22 page)

Since we were already at the top of that dastardly cliff, we took more selfies, and pictures of
Raymond Johnson
resting below. Po Thang, always ready for his close up, grinned and drooled for us and we clicked off even more great shots of boats in the background.

I was making a video surely destined for National Geographic when a sudden movement under the clear water caught my eye. I zeroed in just as Bubbles pirouetted behind
Raymond Johnson
, making a loud splash probably intended to call her BFF out for a romp.

Unfortunately, it worked.

Po Thang barked and dove right off the top of a very steep slope created eons ago when the volcano blew and created the crater that was now an anchorage.

Jan and I screamed, "Noooo!" but he was gone.

With my heart in my throat, I rushed to the edge, prepared to see a broken lump of fur on the rocks two hundred feet below. Which is where I would have ended up if Jan hadn't grabbed the back of my shirt and shorts and yanked me back.

"Hetta, for cryin' out loud. Get a grip."

"But, Po Thang!"

"It sure as hell won't help him to have your big butt land on top of him. Now, very slowly, we'll crawl to the edge and take a peek."

"I'm too scared to look. You do it."

"Okay, stay behind me and hold my feet. What's that noise?"

Hoping she hadn't heard yelps of pain, I cocked my head. "Sounds like...rocks falling?"

Jan shimmied to the edge. "It is. I think he's found a path!"

I scooted over to join her, losing skin in the process. Sure enough, just as I dared look down, Po Thang, preceded by a mini-avalanche of stones and dust, rolled ass over teakettle onto a stretch of rocky beach, gave a mighty shake, and bounded into the water to meet his BFF.

"I swear, I'm going to shoot that damned dolphin," I said, as Jan and I rolled onto our backs and caught our breath Then we began to giggle, which is what we always do when in this kind of situation.

Finally composing ourselves, we stood, yelled, and waved our arms when we saw Chino, camera in hand, come up on the flying bridge to see what the brouhaha was all about. He waved and then focused in on us as we posed and vamped, camping it up for his camera.

And that's when we saw the Parque Nacional patrol boat headed for Raymond Johnson.

"Oh, crap. They won't arrest Po Thang will they? Let's go!"

"Take it easy, Chica. First off, because Po Thang is the designated search and rescue dog at our fish camp, he's registered with the parks department."

"Po Thang is registered with the Mexican government?"

"Had to. Dogs are not allowed at the lagoon, so Chino pulled some strings. He's kind of a park ranger himself. And even if he wasn't, can you imagine those dudes down there trying to take your dog from Chino, Nacho, and Javier? No way are they any kind of match for those three."

Even with those assurances, we made our way back to
DawgHouse
as fast as we could navigate that torturous trail, and while we didn't have to put up with Po Thang showering us with rocks and dust, we slid a good part of the way on butts and stomachs. We arrived back at
Raymond Johnson
looking as though we'd just competed in a mud wresting match.

The park rangers were a little taken aback with our appearance when Jan and I arrived, but from the questions they asked us—Was Po Thang our dog? And was he swimming only, and not going to the beach?—it was obvious they had little interest in busting anyone for allowing a dog on the island. Matter of fact, they seemed much more interested in a dolphin and dog playing with each other than whether said hound had broken their rules. Both men took photos and made videos. One of them also snapped off a couple of Jan and me.

When they motored on toward the main anchorage, waving as they left, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew! I was sure we were collared."

Chino, looking us over said, "Maybe they thought you two had been beat up enough for one day." He snapped another photo of his own.

"Hey!" Jan made a grab for his iPhone, but he deftly stepped aside.

"Oh, no. I must share this on my Facebook page for others to enjoy."

"Glad to be of service," I grumbled. "I need a beer."

Javier, looking way too pleased with our dishevelment, at least handed me a cold Tecate. I sank into a deck chair and examined my scraped knees. Lord only knows what my butt looked like.

Nacho, who hadn't said a word since our return and didn't seem to share Chino's glee at our muddy selves, moved into the chair next to me. "Hetta, we have had news." From his facial expression, I surmised it wasn't
good
news.

"What now?"

"Another body has been discovered east of here. Very torn up. And, he was wearing a kilt."

After Bubbles left and Po Thang, Jan, and I were cleaned up, we threw together lunch while the guys made calls and checked the Internet for any more details on this latest victim.

"Ya know, Hetta, it might not even be Mac."

"Yeah, right. I hear kilts are all the rage in the Sea of Cortez."

"I guess the bright side is, whatever was up is over. We can go back to La Paz, and Chino and I'll head back to camp and get ready for the whale season. And you?"

"I don't really know. I'll call Jenks and—" I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Oh, hell, you think Nacho will want a refund?"

"Hadn't thought about that. Lemme think. We've been working on this cruise of his for…thirteen days. I'd say the most he could ask for is less than half. Which is still a pretty penny."

"Ain't happening. Just for starters, he got me kidnapped, and forced me to try to flee the country, incurring extra costs in fuel and…upset."

"Upset? Think that'll hold up in court?"

"Matter of fact, now that I think about it, he owes me
more
money."

"I love the way you can turn any crappy event to suit your bank account."

"It's what I do."

We high-fived. "Anyhow," she said, "if Nacho's still working with Javier and Mac—make that
was
working with Mac—to investigate the Red Devil thing, I guess he'll stay on the case, and he'll want to do so on your boat. I can hang on for a little longer if you like, but I want to get paid up front, just in case you go and get yourself kilt."

We were hooting over Jan's extremely irreverent, inappropriate, tasteless, and just plain bad, kilt line when I caught a movement in my peripheral vision and Javier materialized behind us. "Can I be of help?"

Startled, Jan, who was multitasking as a standup comic and master chef, whirled on him, paring knife raised in threat. In one deft move, the knife was in Javier's hand.

"Don't do that!" Jan screamed.

Po Thang, who had been hanging around hoping for a dropped quart of ice cream or something, tucked tail and took a powder just as Chino rushed to the galley and put his arms around Jan. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Jan, her cheeks flushed, shook off a combination of chagrin and embarrassment. "Nothin'. Javier startled me, that's all."

Chino turned on Javier and saw the knife in his hand. "What did you do to my darling Jan?"

Javier was speechless, so I jumped to his defense. "Your
darling
Jan pulled a knife on a federal officer, and he disarmed her. Pretty danged slick move there, Javier. Can you teach me how to do that sometime?"

Nacho joined us. "What's going on? Po Thang jumped into my lap and almost knocked me from my chair."

Po Thang who had slinked back behind Nacho, leaned up against my leg. I scratched his ears. "Jan yelled at Javier, and this poor dog thought she was scolding
him
. Everyone just calm down and grab a dish. Lunch is ready."

Jan, carrying a bag of potato chips in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, growled, "Gee, thanks for your unflagging support."

"Well, you did look like you were about to filet him."

"He shouldn't sneak up on people holding knives."

"Did anyone bring the Valium?"

Jan pouted throughout most of our lunch, only un-pooching that bottom lip when the conversation turned to Mac.

"I am very confused," Chino said. "Mac told me he and Johnnie might visit the whale camp again soon, but I did not know they were already in La Paz. And Hetta, how did you meet him?"

Nacho spoke up, sidestepping Chino's question. "I think we need a timeline here. I will start it; divers began to be killed by what appeared to be
diablos rojas
attacks. So, let us start with those Red Devils, and the deaths attributed to them."

We all nodded, but no one spoke up, so Nacho continued. "Javier, your group contacted me to hang out with the cruising fleet and keep my ears open for clues, since some of the men who died were on foreign boats. I also came up with the Grahams to help with investigating what was going on with the squid from a scientific viewpoint."

"Yes, that is so," Javier agreed.

"Who did Mac report to?" I asked.

"To me," Nacho admitted.

"Did you know Mac had helped me free a dolphin from a fishing net?" I wanted to know. "And if so, was he already on your payroll at the time?"

"Ah," Chino said, "it was Art who helped you. Good for him."

"Yes, it was," Nacho continued. "He was actually looking for the dolphin. It had already been reported that an animal in distress was spotted near San Francisco Island, and he went out to find it. But the dolphin came to Hetta for help." Nacho said this with a crooked grin, as if to question the dolphin's judgment. "However, at the time Mac did not know you and I were acquainted."

"But, when he told you we'd met, and how, you then decided to hire my boat to infiltrate the cruising community?"

"It seemed reasonable. At the time."

"Was his wife with him then?"

"No, she was already gone, but we did not know why, or where to. However, when he returned to La Paz right after the dolphin rescue and, instead of returning to his slip at Marina Palmyra, he ended up next to your boat at Marina de la Paz, we became curious as to what he wanted from you."

Jan perked up. "Oh, you know how men flock after Hetta, what with her fatal charm. But then when he kidn—yahhh! Hetta, what the hell?"

I dabbed iced tea from her face, muffling her mouth in the process. "So sorry, Jan, I tripped." I hauled her out of her chair and herded her down into the main cabin. "Let's get you into some dry clothes."

Over my shoulder, I said, "We'll be right back."

At the bottom of the steps Jan balled her fists and attempted to swing on me, but the heavy towel over her head threw off her aim.

"Jan," I hissed, "ix-nay on the earls-pay. There are two men out there we cannot entirely trust."

"Oh, orry-say. Okay, I got it." She dried her hair on the towel. "At least you don't use sugar."

"Let's go back up. No pearls, no guns. No nothing, let
them
talk."

Jan wrapped the towel into a turban, which on her looked great, and pasted a big smile on her face. "We're back. No harm, no foul. Hetta's clumsy."

Po Thang, always leery of shouts and unscheduled liquids, was hunkered down between Nacho and Chino, who both had that look of discomfort men get when women act up. Javier, on the other hand, was the picture of suspicion.

"Now, where were we?" I asked cheerfully.

"Jan was saying something about Mac?"

"It was not important. Let's stay with the timeline. Nacho, who contacted the Trob in order to charter
Raymond Johnson
?"

"It was arranged through the Mexican justice department. At my suggestion."

"So now that you and Javier were in cahoots, investigating the diver deaths, you were also still working with Mac, whom you suspected may have offed his wife?"

They both nodded.

"Why were you at the
bajo
? What is out there?"

"Actually, he didn't know he did it, but Mac led us there. We had him under surveillance, because we were suspicious that he was covering something up. Maybe the death of his wife, but we were also beginning to wonder if he was trying to protect the squid."

"Protect the squid? How nuts is that?" I blurted.

Chino shook his head. "Not so nuts. I, too, was reluctant to blame the squid in an attack reported near Loreto, and that story has since been proved a hoax. Unfortunately, I was one of the scientists who caught a poor innocent squid for testing. It has to be the low point of my career."

Jan patted his shoulder. "You didn't know. By the way, did you ever discuss this incident with Mac?"

"Not personally, but I addressed the situation in an article in the MarineBio Newsletter, and he probably read it."

"So," I looked at Javier, "you hired the Graham team to get the truth about the squid attacks, and something went awry?"

He was clearly not understanding the word, awry, so Chino quickly translated.

"Yes." He scowled, as though unhappy with Mac's findings. "He seemed certain the squid were not to blame, but we disagree. Since the
Tourista
Bureau," his emphasis on
tourista
, almost spitting it, made clear his feelings for one of the most powerful offices in Mexico, "never wants bad, uh,
publicidad
they prefer to bury the truth. We have made no progress and divers still die."

Jan and I exchanged a grin at his use of
tourista
, a euphemism in Mexico for Montezuma's Revenge.

I looked to Nacho for the story to continue, but he tilted his head, cut his eyes skyward and lifted his palms in a
¿quien sabe?
gesture. Who knows?

"Okay, then, Nacho. Answer this. What next?"

Javier spoke up. "I suggest we all return to La Paz."

I shook my head. "Not for a few days. I have, uh, things to do out here." There was no way I was telling this fed I'd made Mac a promise I'd stay put. "Anyone who wants to leave better go with Javier."

My loyal crew and friends all said they were staying with the ship, so Javier gathered his things and left.

As soon as he was out of the anchorage, Jan asked, "Okay, tell me again why we aren't heading for port."

"I told Mac, as part of the deal I made with him, I would stay here a few days. He kept his end and returned Nacho to us, or at least I think he did, so I'm staying put."

"Hetta, he's probably dead."

"Doesn't matter. I said I would, and I will. If you don't want to stay, Nacho can take you in when you're ready. Right Nacho?"

"No."

"No?"

"I think we must all stay to protect you from yourself. It is surely more than I can do on my own."