Real Mermaids Don't Sell Seashells (17 page)

I
doubt
he'd be waving a wrench around if he had a gun
, Luke rang back.

Get
the
police
up
here
, I rang to Luke.

I'm texting Trey on Bobbie's phone right now. He says they're on their way but are getting slowed down by the evacuating passengers.

“What's that sound?” Baldie shook his head. He must have caught a bit of our rings in between the intermittent alarm.

“Maybe you should get your ears checked once they put you in jail,” Luke said.

“I hear they have great dental too,” I added, giving Luke a chance to slip toward the gangway leading to the elevator doors. “And you can get a jail-yard tattoo of a merman while you're at it!”

Baldie's eyes popped open in surprise.

“What do you know about that?” he asked. Then a look of realization crossed his face. “That noise you two were making. That's the same noise Henry was making to his pals when I figured out his secret. You two little punks are mers too.”

The
guy
is
bright
enough
, I rang to Luke.
Too
bad
he
hasn't used it for the power of good.

Imagine
what
he
could
accomplish
, Luke rang back with a laugh. By then, he'd made it to the gangway by the lifeboats, but he stayed put, texting something on his father's phone.

“What?” Baldie demanded. “What are you saying?”

“We're just saying how clever you are,” I said, edging around the pool to keep a safe distance from his wrench. “Only you're not
so
clever because I'm the one who knows where that green backpack is and you don't.”

Baldie's face hardened into an evil expression. He stalked toward me. “Why, you little brat. You're going to tell me where that backpack is or—”

“Or what?” I asked, circling the pool as he approached. “You're going to tell everyone my mer secret? You're about to get nailed for kidnapping a minor, buddy. Who's going to believe anything coming out of your mouth?”

“It sounds a little crazy and desperate if you ask me,” Luke called out from across the deck to distract him.

Baldie turned toward Luke then back to me, trying to keep track of where we were. The sound of the alarm seemed to have him seriously spooked, though, because he turned toward the lifeboats to make his escape.

“I'm outta here,” he yelled and grabbed Luke along the way. “And I'm taking you with me for insurance.”

Mr. Martin's phone popped out of Luke's hand and skittered across the deck toward me. I ran to grab it.

“Wait!” I yelled. Adrenaline shot through my veins as I saw Luke struggle against Baldie. I tried to dial someone's number (anyone's!) but my fingers fumbled over the phone's screen. “Don't!”

But Baldie had already released the lever to lower the lifeboat to deck level and was forcing Luke inside.

“I told you! I know where the backpack is!” I yelled, stashing the phone in my bag and hoping Baldie wouldn't see. “Take me instead. I can show you!”

I knew it wasn't the smartest thing, trading one hostage for another, but I was the reason Luke was there in the first place. He'd said we should get the police right away back on the pier and I didn't listen. It was my fault Luke was in trouble.

“Maybe I should take both of you,” Baldie said once he'd tied Luke's hands behind his back with rope from the lifeboat. “Yeah. That's what I'll do. Get in!”

“All right, all right,” I said. “Just let him go.”

“Do you think I'm an idiot?” he asked. “I said
get
in
!”

I had to get Baldie away from Luke and give the police time to make it to the upper deck.

“You'll have to catch me first,” I said, clutching my bag to my chest.

Jade, watch out!
Luke rang.

Baldie lunged toward me with the wrench but slipped on the wet deck in the process. He gained his balance and chased me toward the bow. I ducked, avoiding the wrench as Baldie swung it my way. My only escape was to jump in the pool and run for the waterslide, trying not to get my bag and Mr. Martin's phone wet just in case I'd need it.

“Come back here,” Baldie yelled, jumping into the pool to catch me. I didn't have a choice but to jump into the waterslide opening. I climbed up, up, up, trying to brace my feet and hands along the sides of the slide so I wouldn't slip back down. The tube slide was see-through so I could see Baldie fold his arms over his chest and laugh at me, thinking there was no way I was going to escape.

My head began to spin as I traveled through the tube, moving across the ship's railing until I was hanging out over the side of the deck and looking down into the watery depths of the ocean. I stopped and braced myself against the slide, ignoring the fact that I was basically hovering hundreds of feet above the Atlantic Ocean.

Hurl
alert!

It was true—I was trapped. But the smug look on Baldie's face made my blood boil. The guy had to pay for what he did. And Ensel too. Hopefully I'd stalled Baldie long enough for the cops to get here in time. What about Ensel, though? He couldn't walk free!

I took a deep breath and was focused on Baldie's terrible, self-satisfied face when I got an idea. I fished in my bag and pulled out Mr. Martin's phone and Ensel's business card. I punched in the number and started a new message.

I'm the guy with the stuff. Be at the drop site in half an hour.

Seconds later, a message popped up from Ensel.

You better not be messing with me. Got a lot riding on this deal.

I looked down the slide and saw that Baldie had decided I wasn't worth it because he was back at the lifeboat, lowering it with him and Luke inside. Oh no! He couldn't escape. Where were the cops?

I texted Trey and Cori at Bobbie's number.

almost here?

Seconds later, they texted back.

holdno! almst trhe!!

gr8! & get the cops to señor frg's in half an hour. anthr bad guy to arrest!

I was about to slide down the waterslide to try and stop Baldie when two policemen rushed onto the deck. They stopped the lifeboat's descent and nabbed Baldie. Trey and Cori arrived moments later with the lady officer. While she helped get Luke untied, he looked my way and flashed an adorable “We did it!” smile.

I held a finger up to my lips so he wouldn't let on I was there.

I had a backpack to deliver.

Once Baldie was arrested and they took him away, I waited until everyone was long gone and then slid back down the waterslide. I rushed down the stairs and back onto the dock, far away from prying eyes, then took a huge swan dive into the harbor.

I hit the water so hard that I saw white. Then my legs exploded into a tail as my sundress swirled around me.

I spun around toward the pier, working the muscles of my newly formed tail, and swept my arms behind me to get some momentum. It was completely dark by then—I guessed it was about 10 p.m.—making it hard to see through the gloomy water, but my eyes had adjusted to the dark by the time I reached the pier.

The backpack. Where was it? I traveled up and down along the pier, trying to remember exactly where I'd stashed it. Then I remembered that Henry was toward the bow of the cruise ship when I found him, not the stern, so I swam under the ship's hull to the other side and kept swimming, hunting around the framework of the pier.

After ten minutes or so of searching, I started to panic. What if I couldn't find the backpack? What if Ensel got away with his dirty tricks? He'd probably make up some kind of story about Dillon and pin everything on Baldie. Who would believe a proven kidnapper like Baldie over a police officer like Ensel? I couldn't let Ensel just walk away.

Finally, I saw a flash of green a few dozen feet down the pier. The backpack!

I swam to it and pulled it off the spike where I'd left it, scraping my hand in the process.

Yeowch!
Pain sliced across my palm, and my arm almost snapped off as the backpack sank like a boulder to the bottom of the ocean.

I swam after it and struggled to slip the bag onto my back along with my own backpack, and then I remembered I still had Mr. Martin's phone in there. Oops. Being a mermaid definitely wasn't electronics friendly.

My hand ached from scraping it on the sharp spike, and the weight of Baldie's backpack pulled me down to the ocean floor. I pushed my swaying hair away from my face and struggled to keep moving, but I felt like I was carrying a hundred-pound sack of potatoes. One way or another, though, I had to get to Señor Frog's.

I swam with all my might, but the weight of the backpack slowed me to the speed of a one-armed dog paddle.

By then, I was sure I'd been in the water for at least twenty minutes and I was barely skimming the bottom of the ocean floor with my feeble swimming attempts. At the rate I was going, it would take me well into next week to get to the drop-off.

I wasn't sure if it was the hopelessness of the situation, knowing there was no way I'd make it to Señor Frog's on time, but the evening light dimmed even more than usual, casting dark shadows all around me. It didn't help that my hand was now throbbing. And, ugh, was it bleeding?

I looked up, wondering if a cloud had covered the moon, and saw the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen.

Edges of moonlight glistened around an unmistakable sleek, dark shadow.

Slow moving. Stealthy. Sharp finned.

Shark!
I rang out without thinking.

The shark zoomed toward me, sensing my presence, probably sniffing the blood from my hand. I swam with all my might, desperate to get away, with the soundtrack from Cori's video blaring in my head.

I'm sorry, Cori! I should have gone shark diving with you! Now I have no shark skills, and it's all my fault!
I rang, nearly delirious with fear.

I felt something grip the back of my backpack with such force that it snapped my head back.

Ack!
I couldn't believe it. After months and months as a mermaid, I was about to become a mer-kebab!

The great reef tiger shark (or whatever the monster with the death grip on my backpack was called) shook me back and forth through the water like a toddler swinging a rag doll.

I
am
SO
dead,
I rang.

But all of a sudden, I felt a thump from behind. I swung my head around and caught a glimpse of a second shadow. Then a third.

Thump! Thump!

Ocean
human!
I heard a ring call.

The dolphins!

The water around me filled with the loudest, shriekiest sounds I'd ever heard as the dolphins called to one another. Within seconds, more dolphins appeared all around me, adding to the noise.

Thump! Thump!

The dolphins were attacking the shark! They were trying to save me.

I covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut as the noise and force of the fight behind me intensified. The shark kept swinging me around, making my brain scramble inside my skull.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Finally, thankfully, amazingly, the shark let go and I floated down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean, exhausted by the fight and weighed down by the backpack. I landed face up, looking up at the battle in the water above me as the dolphins rammed into the shark, chasing it away.

I could barely move, barely process what had just happened, barely believe I was still alive!

Seconds later, the same silver-beaked dolphin I'd seen at the marina the night before appeared by my side in the moonlight.

It's you!
I rang, relieved to see a friendly face. Um, beak. I tried to speak as plainly as possible so the dolphin could understand.
You
saved
me! Thank you!

You
help
ocean
human. Make harbor safe for us again. We help you.
The dolphin motioned with his beak for his friend to come nearer. At first, the other dolphin was skittish but I must have looked pretty harmless because soon he came to my side.

You
mean
Henry?
I asked.
He's okay now. He'll be going home soon so you can have your harbor back. But I need to catch the bad human who hurt him.

And by “human” I meant Ensel, though he was pretty
sub
human as far as I was concerned. I was fairly sure Ensel didn't know anything about mers—Baldie had told him his “guy” was a scuba diver, not a mer—but clearly Ensel was as much to blame for Henry's situation as Baldie was.

Bad
human?
the dolphin replied.

Yes.
I struggled to get moving again, hoping the shark hadn't torn too big a hole in the backpack.
I
need
to
get
this
bag
somewhere
very
soon
or
else
the
bad
human
will
escape.

We
help
you
again, then no more ocean humans?
the dolphin asked.

So they wanted me gone too? I guess I was only slightly less irritating to be around than a full-fledged mer, but I tried not to take it personally that I was still rather offensive.

Trust
me
, I rang back.
The
sooner
I
get
out
of
this
harbor, the better!

Then, we go!
The dolphin and his friend each grabbed a strap of the backpack and pulled me along while their pals formed a dolphin guard all around me in case the shark came back.

Okay, then, if you insist!
I rang, letting them drag my limp, tired body in the general direction of the Straw Market.
Off
to
Señor Frog's!

•••

Thankfully, the big yellow hook attached to the pier below Señor Frog's was fairly easy to find once we got there, but if Officer Ensel wanted the stash in the backpack, he'd have to get very wet. I attached the bag to the hook and gave the straps a few extra turns and knots, just to make things interesting. The pack had a rip at the top of the bag, thanks to my toothy pal, but none of the load was lost as far as I could tell. Though I shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to me if I hadn't been carrying smuggled goods on my back.

I said good-bye to my dolphin friends and swam to the far end of the wharf, hidden from view, so I could watch what was going on without being seen while my tail transformed back to legs. I took a few deep breaths of air and tried not to cough as it burned down my throat. Music played from inside the restaurant, but there was still no sign of Officer Ensel.

Soon, my tail started to burn with its own heat, and I knew that it was only a matter of minutes before it started dissolving into legs. My eyes stung with tears as I forced myself not to cry out in pain, but the more I forced the pain away, the more it kept coming. I could barely keep from screaming when I saw him.

Carl Ensel.

He'd stripped down to his boxer shorts and was climbing down the ladder near the hook. At first I don't think he saw the bag, but soon he spotted it and climbed a bit farther down into the water to try and reach it. Thankfully, my legs had fully formed by then and my fancy knot handiwork gave me a few extra minutes to get myself out of the water to check and see if the police had arrived yet.

The coast was still clear, so I hobbled barefoot toward where Officer Ensel was retrieving the backpack, keeping close to a small shed near the water's edge and out of sight. The patio of Señor Frog's was on the other side of the shed so the customers couldn't see me, but still, I didn't want to have to explain why a fourteen-year-old girl was walking around barefoot in a dripping-wet sundress in the middle of the night.

“Oof.” I almost tripped on Ensel's clothes as I sneaked around the shed. When I realized what they were, a smile grew on my lips. I picked up the clothes and bundled them in my arms. When I heard a jingle, I realized it must be Ensel's keys! I slipped those into the pocket of my sundress for safe keeping.

I could hear Officer Ensel cursing as he kept trying to untie the backpack, so I took the time to plot what to do with his clothes and smiled at the thought of him stuck in his boxers.

But where were the police? I wondered. I tried Mr. Martin's phone from my backpack, but it was fried. I checked the pockets of Ensel's pants for a phone. Nothing. Maybe he'd left it in his car, but I had no idea what his car looked like. I could only hope that Cori and Trey got the message to the police and they arrived in time to catch Officer Ensel red-handed.

“Got it,” I heard Ensel whisper to himself.

Ensel's head popped up over the pier as he climbed the ladder and struggled with the water-logged backpack. I looked all around me, trying to see if the police had arrived yet, but I couldn't see anyone. I slipped behind the shed, watching Ensel as he hunted around for his clothes. After a few minutes, he gave up and started to leave. He probably wouldn't get very far without his keys, but I couldn't take the chance that he would escape with the evidence.

“Yoo-hoo!” I called out from behind the shed as I dangled his pants in the air. “Looking for these?”

Ensel looked my way. The nearby streetlamp was enough to show the shocked look on his face.

“Where did you get those? Give those back, you little brat!” He started toward me, but I threw the pants at him to slow him down. He picked them up and put them on hastily, giving me enough time to run back a few dozen feet, closer to the stalls of the Straw Market. I slipped into the maze of stalls, trying to hide as Ensel approached. I could hear him on the other side of the stalls' canvas walls, cursing as he walked along the uneven gravel.

“You're that girl who was with Dillon on Monday, aren't you?” Ensel called out. “Good thing he made it back home okay, isn't it?”

His words rang with a false note, like an actor trying too hard to convince you of his part.

I waited until he'd passed the booth where I was hiding before answering. “We both know Dillon didn't make it home.”

There was silence on the other side of the canvas for a moment, and then his voice pierced the dark night.

“It would be a real shame if you didn't make it home either,” Ensel replied.

A chill ran through me.

I backtracked along the stalls in the opposite direction, knowing there was an opening where I'd popped out to see Dillon's shells back on Monday. I hung on to Ensel's shirt and shoes and tried my best not to trip. I peered around the corner of the canvas to catch a glimpse of him and saw that he was about thirty feet away, pulling back the canvas of the stalls to look inside. Now that he knew that I knew he had something to do with Dillon's disappearance, there was no way he was leaving without getting the whole story.

“I know about your pal over at Wonderment Cruiselines too, you jerk!” I yelled, throwing a shoe out into the water to confuse him. Ensel spun around, trying to make out the source of the splash as I ducked back into the stalls and cut across to the opening on the other side of the tent. I checked to see if the cops had arrived yet, but there were still no flashing lights to be seen. I doubled back, dashing down the side of the tent toward Señor Frog's, hoping to buy a little more time.