Hurricane Bay by Heather Graham
Kelsey went over to the equipment and found her mask and snorkel. She leaned over the port side of the boat to spit in her mask and rinse it, then jumped into the water.
Dane had tried many of the usual haunts before trying the fishing spot. He didn’t know why, but his sense of anxiety had been growing ever since he had learned that Andy Latham was back on the streets.
Latham had a tendency to fish the Gulf side, but when the fishing was poor there he went over to the Atlantic.
The shallow bank near Pennecamp was a favored spot. Some of the best reefs were close by, and not far away was a small, barren island, almost a sand spit, with a few tenacious grasses and trees. It was a popular picnic spot for boaters. Beneath the water’s surface there were long spits of sand, as well, making it a safe place to anchor without harming the coral, while still being close enough to several small outcroppings of reef where the fish tarried before—hopefully—falling prey to rod and reel. There was also the wreck of a fishing boat that had gone down before they had been born. It provided a place for barnacles to form and sea life to find a home. It made the spot a special place, good for fishing, diving and, especially, for snorkeling, since the water ranged from twenty to forty feet deep.
As he motored in slowly, Dane surveyed the boats already anchored there.
“Bingo,” he said softly.
He could see the Lady Havana, Free as the Sea, Nate’s Madonna, and two of the other charter boats that went out from the same marina. Jorge Marti wouldn’t be captaining the Free as the Sea, since he was with Kelsey and the others.
Izzy Garcia might well be aboard the Lady Havana, though.
He set his anchor and picked up his binoculars. He could see the groups aboard the Lady Havana, the Free as the Sea and the other two charters, the Key Kiwi and the Sea She. He studied the Lady Havana closely, but he didn’t see Izzy among the men with their rods.
He turned to study the Madonna. There was no one topside, and the dive flag was up.
He set the binoculars down. The view before him was almost picture-perfect, entirely serene. The day was spectacular, without even the customary puffs of white clouds above him. The sky was a crystal blue, the sea shimmering in shades of blue and green. The waves were light, without a hint of chop, and the boats at anchor rocked gently where they lay.
And yet…
He should have been on the phone with the women he had met at the strip clubs, pushing and prodding to find out if they recognized any of the people in his pictures. He should have been tracking down Andy Latham, calling every number from the list Kelsey had taken from Izzy’s cell phone, or bribing or conniving a friend at the phone company to give him names and addresses for those numbers he didn’t know.
Instead he was here.
There was no reason to suspect that Kelsey should be in any kind of danger. She wasn’t a stripper, and she didn’t lead Sheila’s lifestyle.
But she never shut up. She was determined to find Sheila. She was always asking questions, and her questions were an awful lot like accusations.
The temptation to get in the water and find her was overwhelming. He felt like an Alfred Hitchcock trailer. “Have you ever had a premonition…?”
Dane put up his own dive flag, went for his snorkel equipment and dived in. Surfacing, he headed straight for the area where the Madonna lay at anchor.
Kelsey took a deep breath and dived. She could see Cindy ahead of her. Cindy could be a pure predator. She had apparently shaken Larry, having decided he would scare her fish away and ruin her catch. Now she was headed toward the scattered coral.
Something brushed Kelsey. She instinctively moved, then realized it was only a piece of seaweed. There was a lot of it today. Whatever was happening with the storm out in the Atlantic might be driving it in.
She surfaced and took another gulp of air.
Her lung capacity was good. Probably because she had grown up an islander and spent almost as much time in the water as she had on land the whole time she was growing up. They were all good, of course, though Larry wasn’t quite up to par with the rest of them. But then, he had been a weekender. And no one was quite as good as Dane, but then…well, he was Dane.
Joe had been as good, though.
Kelsey swam toward the coral and found a tiny flatfish digging into the sand. She teased it with a finger and watched as it dug deeper. She surfaced and found herself pulling away from a big patch of seaweed again. For a moment she floated, staring up at the sky. She found herself thinking that she was going to make a point of calling her parents that night. She remembered her feeling, after the initial anguish of Joe’s death, of failure that she wasn’t all that Joe had been, the perfect son.
It all seemed so petty now.
She was grateful to them; she loved them so much. They were so normal and they did love her. They had given her a good home, a good education and so many of the silly things she had wanted over the years.
She had not led Sheila’s life.
She turned in the water, took a deep breath and made another dive.
She was very close to what could be classified as a reel reef. And, she realized, she was by the old wreck. How far had she come from the boat? As experienced as she was, she never went diving alone, and even when snorkeling, she was careful to stay close to the others. The best swimmers in the world could drown because they were too confident in their own abilities.
She would surface, get her bearings and head back.
Now, she saw, she was right over the wreck. The scattered coral near it was intriguing. As she headed up, she was surprised to catch a glimpse of green curling around one of the larger pieces near the rusting hull of the boat, and she found herself taking a breath and slipping beneath the surface again. She dived down low to the ground, wondering if a moray eel was making a home here. She swam deep. Tangs, parrot fish and medium-size grouper swam past her, the grouper eyeing her warily. She kept her distance, circling, watching.
She was startled at a whooshing sound in the water, close by.
She spun around and saw nothing, but the fish that had been near her were all darting to and fro in sudden confusion and fear.
She turned around in a full circle but still saw nothing.
The old boat sat decaying in the sand and rock, silent and still.
The fish around her slowed again, their movements easy through the water.
As she turned back to the little spit of coral rock, she was pleased to spot an eel. It poked its head out from a hole in the formation of living rock, then ducked its head back in.
Treading water, she waited at a safe distance, anxious to see the moray again. She’d missed being in the water like this. She loved the serenity in the water, the beauty of the creatures that lived there.
The moray tentatively peered out.
She was careful not to move.
How long had she been down? At one time she could make almost five minutes. She probably wasn’t that good anymore.
The eel seemed to accept her.
Then…
It jerked back so suddenly it was almost like a disappearance into thin air—or water, as the case might be.
She heard the whooshing sound again…
And saw…
A streak of silver.
A spear…
Some idiot was spearfishing right here, with her in the water. Surely, despite the coral and the seaweed, she could be seen.
She couldn’t see anyone attached to the spear that had just shot by her, dangerously close.
She looked around…and again…the whoosh.
Damn tourists!
Was someone in the hulk of the old boat, thinking they could do better if they were hidden in the rotting wood and rusting metal of the wreck?
She got ready to kick her way to the surface, out of the fishing grounds. Before she could do so, she nearly screamed as a hand landed on her shoulder.
She turned in alarm. Dane. He grasped her hand, pulling her upward.
They broke the surface together.
“Dane, what the hell are you doing here? You scared me half to death!”
“I nearly scared you to death? Jesus, someone down there is using you for target practice! Get back to the boat, Kelsey.”
“Back to the boat? Where are you going?”
“Back to find out who is down there.”
He pulled free, about to dive. She grabbed his hair, jerking him back up. His dripping head and blazing eyes reappeared.
“Dane, you idiot, there are tourists down there who don’t know what they’re doing! You’ve got to come with me. We’ll call the Coast Guard.”
“Kelsey, dammit, get back to the boat. I don’t think that’s some dumb tourist taking potshots. Let me go.”
“You’re not going after someone with a speargun. You’re unarmed!”
“Kelsey…” He was impatient.
“Dane!” She was adamant.
“Kelsey, go back to the boat. Now.”
“But—”
He dived. She didn’t stop him, but she couldn’t turn and leave him, either. She surveyed the ocean floor beneath her.
She could see the coral, but the fish had all disappeared.
The old wreck sat like a silent sentinel, as it had for years. No activity was evident in or around it.
She couldn’t see Dane.
Seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, but she still couldn’t see Dane.
Or any sign of life.
Minutes.
Minutes went by.
He was good. He could hold his breath for a long time.
She still couldn’t see him. How far had he gone? Where had he gone?
She gasped, inhaling water along with air as she felt a hand on her back. She turned, coughing, treading water as she wheezed and struggled for breath. Dane. He had come from the other direction.
“I told you to get the hell out of the water!”
“Don’t yell at me!”
“Kelsey, you idiot, I think someone was trying to kill you.”
“Here? With at least half a dozen boats around? Dane, it was some idiot tourist who should be arrested. You were in as much danger as I was.”
“We may still be in danger, Kelsey, and while I’m wearing a dive knife sheathed at my ankle, you haven’t any protection but a blue bikini. So swim, Kelsey. Let’s both get back to the damn boat.”
She turned and started for the boat, but she couldn’t help thinking he was crazy. No one would want to kill her.
And yet…
Why would someone search for concealment in order to spearfish?
Unless they were fishing for a human prey.
CHAPTER 13
When they reached the boat, Larry was just climbing up the ladder. He was jubilant.
“Will you look at this? I got a dolphin fish—a big one. Cindy, Nate and Jorge got nada. Call me a weekender, will ya? Look at this baby. Hey, Dane, where the hell did you come from?”
“Where the hell did you catch that?” Dane demanded. Larry’s smile faded, and he pointed north, away from the wreck. “Over there somewhere,” he said, scowling. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
When they reached the ladder, Dane urged Kelsey to go first, then followed her up.
Kelsey, sorry that Dane had been so curt when Larry was so excited, explained quickly. “Larry, someone was over by the wreck with a speargun, and they missed me by a matter of inches.”
“Damn!” He stared at Dane, who was dripping onto the deck. “Stupid tourists. Did you tell them to stop?”
“We couldn’t find them,” Dane said. “But I’m calling the Coast Guard and reporting the incident. Where are the others?”
“Coming in.”
Dane, his hands on his hips, was staring toward the other boats still anchored nearby.
“It’s gone,” he said.
“What’s gone?” Larry asked, perplexed. The spear he had held so proudly, bearing his captured fish, was now lowered by his side.
“Izzy’s boat. The Lady Havana.”
“It was out there?” Larry said.
Dane nodded, studying the fishermen still at anchor. “Jorge’s boat is gone, too.”
“Jorge is with us.”
“I know. But his boat was here when I anchored.”
“So?”
“So we need to know exactly who was out here.”
“Those charters usually just do rod and reel fishing,” Larry said.
“I know.”
Jorge came climbing up the ladder, his spear empty. “Hey, Dane,” he said in greeting.
“Where were you?” Dane asked him.
Jorge frowned and looked down at his torso, glistening from the sea. He looked back at Dane. “In the water.”
“Where were you spearfishing?” Dane clarified.
“Toward the boats in the crescent there. Why?”
“Someone nearly speared Kelsey,” Larry explained.
“What?”
Cindy was on the ladder then, with Nate right behind her. “Maybe we should explain this to everyone all at once,” Kelsey murmured.
“I’m calling the Coast Guard,” Dane said, and headed below deck to use Nate’s radio.
Kelsey wound up explaining. They were all indignant, and certain that anyone so careless with a speargun had to be a tourist.
“I mean, come on, Kels,” Larry said. “Why would anyone be aiming at you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Dane had come back topside.
“You really called the Coast Guard?” Nate said slowly, as if they might wind up getting someone in trouble for a piece of stupidity.
“What happened was serious,” Dane said.
Cindy was frowning. “Dane…how did you get here?”
He sighed and pointed. “My boat.”
“Oh. You were just coming out to join us?” Nate said.
“Something like that.”
“Cool,” Nate murmured. “Hey…they’re all leaving.”
“Did any of the rest of you notice what other boats were out here?” Dane asked.
They looked at each other. “I didn’t even notice that Jorge’s Free as the Sea was out here,” Larry admitted ruefully.
“And I hadn’t seen Izzy’s boat,” Kelsey said. She hadn’t paid the least attention to the other boats. She had been involved in the diary, and then she had gone in the water.
Dane looked at them all one by one. Kelsey could feel a certain tension rising. “You were all within sight of each other, right?”
A silence followed his words.
“Kelsey was right—we should have decided to order pizza,” Nate said, staring hard at Dane.
They heard the loud blast of a horn from a Coast Guard cutter, and a moment later the vessel was lining up with theirs and an officer hopped aboard the Madonna. He was young, and very serious and attentive as Dane told him that he had gone looking for Kelsey, only to see a spear go streaking through the water, nearly missing her.
“Well, who shot it?”
“I don’t know,” Dane said impatiently, ruffling the feathers of the young officer. “She was nearly killed. There were at least two spears, maybe more. And whoever shot them was hidden somewhere. In the wreck, I imagine.”
Then the officer stared at them all curiously, since they had obviously been spearfishing.
“Every one of us knows how dangerous a speargun can be,” Nate said firmly.
“And we weren’t anywhere near the wreck,” Cindy said.
The officer took information from each of them, then asked what other boats they’d seen in the area. Dane rattled off the names of at least five other boats anchored.
“We’ll do what we can,” the young officer said, then shook his head. “If you’d only seen someone…”
“Yeah, I know that,” Dane said impatiently, “but when you’re being shot at, you try not to swim right back into danger.”
“And you’re sure,”
“We’re positive,” Jorge said with disdain.
“Right,” Larry murmured. He nodded toward Kelsey and Dane, and said, “Humans there.” He picked up his catch. “Fish here. We know the difference.”
Once again the officer stiffened. “You don’t need to be sarcastic. We’re on the water to save lives.”
“Of course. And you do an excellent job,” Cindy soothed.
“We deal with drug peddlers, modern-day pirates who would just as soon shoot you as look at you, refugees and—”
“Assholes,” Nate supplied.
The officer lifted a brow and at last cracked a small smile. “Yeah. So if I offended you with my questions, at least you’ll understand why.”
“No one is offended. We appreciate your work,” Dane said carefully. “But you will check out everyone on those other boats, won’t you?”
“Yes, we will. I know most of these boats. And you think there were a few more with names you didn’t catch?”
Dane nodded. “Yeah.” He sounded angry with himself.
“You didn’t mention that boat over there.” He pointed.
“She’s mine,” Dane said.
“Oh? So you came out in two different boats?”
“I knew my friends were out here,” Dane said.
“And you just happened to dive in the water and found your friend in danger from an unseen spear fisherman?”
“Yes,” Dane said. Kelsey realized then that everyone was staring at Dane.
“Good timing,” the officer said.
“Yes, it was.”
The officer kept staring at him.
“I don’t even own a speargun. I was never into spearfishing,” Dane said impatiently.
“All right. We’ll do our best.” He handed Dane a card. “I’ve got your name and numbers. And you can contact me if you think of anything else,” he said.
Dane accepted the card. “Thanks.”
The officer returned to his boat, leaving them with a cross between a wave and a salute.
They were left alone, silent for a few minutes, staring at one another.
“I guess it’s a pizza kind of night after all,” Cindy said, trying to break the spell of silence with a light tone.