Marcia Talley - Without a Grave

‘Maybe that guard wasn’t involved with anything that went on last night. I don’t have a lot of experience in running a drug cartel, but I imagine it’s pretty much “need to know.” All he needed to know was “Hey, Joe, keep everyone off that beach.”’

‘He could have killed us.’

‘I know. And he’s not going to get away with it.’

Although it would have taken a team of X-Men to steal Good Golly at that point, we tied her carefully to a poisonwood tree, nevertheless. While Molly shook sand out of her tennis shoes, I tucked my soaking-wet T-shirt into my shorts and tried to look halfway presentable.

‘Where to?’ Molly asked.

‘First we’re going to see Gator. Then, I’m going to make sure you get your boat back.’

ANY PERSON WHO PURCHASES, ACQUIRES OR HAS IN HIS POSSESSION, USES OR CARRIES A GUN WITHOUT A LICENCE THEREFOR SHALL BE LIABLE… TO IMPRISONMENT FOR A TERM OF TEN YEARS AND TO A FINE OF TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.Commonwealth Of The Bahamas, Statute Law,Chapter 213, Part IV, Section 15(2)(a)CONDITIONS AT FOX HILL PRISON, THE COUNTRY’S ONLY PRISON, REMAINED HARSH. THE PRISON REMAND AREA, BUILT TO HOLD 300 PRISONERS, WAS INSUFFICIENT TO HOLD THE 650 PRISONERS AWAITING TRIAL, LEAVING MANY PRE-TRIAL DETAINEES CONFINED IN CELLS WITH CONVICTED PRISONERS [WHERE THEY] WERE CROWDED INTO POORLY VENTILATED CELLS THAT GENERALLY LACKED REGULAR RUNNING WATER, TOILETS, AND LAUNDRY FACILITIES. MOST PRISONERS LACKED BEDS, SLEPT ON CONCRETE FLOORS, AND WERE LOCKED IN SMALL CELLS 23 HOURS PER DAY, OFTEN WITH HUMAN WASTE.Bahamas, US Department of State, Country Reportson Human Rights Practices, 2006

It wasn’t even eight o’clock, but I felt like I’d lived a whole lifetime since dawn. Leaving the ruined Zodiac behind us on the beach, Molly and I trudged over the dune and on to the Queen’s Highway. Wet, disheveled, my hair and clothing stiff with salt, I hoped we wouldn’t run into anyone we knew. On Hawksbill Cay, that simply wasn’t possible.

At the Pink Store, the generator was working overtime, keeping the lights and refrigeration running. Winnie had just opened her doors, so we bought bottled apple juice out of the cold case and had to explain to Winnie why we looked like objects the cat dragged in – ‘damn dinghy overturned’ – before being allowed to sit outside on the bench to drink it.

I was relieved to find Gator in his shack, getting his equipment ready for the day. ‘Morning, ladies.’ It took a moment for our appearance to register. ‘Jesus, what happened to you?’

I was in no mood to mince words. ‘We took Molly’s boat over to Poinciana Point this morning where one of Rudy Mueller’s goons pulled a gun and shot Molly’s Zodiac out from under us.’

From the look of astonishment on Gator’s face, I knew there were a lot of things about that statement that didn’t exactly fit with laid-back island life. ‘He pulled a gun ?’

Molly, her hands primly folded in front of her, said, ‘An automatic.’

‘Mueller’s people aren’t licensed for guns. Were you on Mueller’s property?’

She shook her head. ‘We were on the water.’

‘Unbelievable!’

‘That’s what we thought, too, as we were paddling for our lives.’

Gator put down the swim fin he was adjusting. ‘Which guard was it, do you know?’

‘He wasn’t one of the college kids. He’s older, in his thirties maybe. Blond hair. Wears one of those ridiculous soul patches on his chin, so he’s either a sloppy shaver, or going for a retro Frank Zappa look. Poinciana Cove must be his beat because we’d run into him there before.’

‘Before. What’s this before business?’

I bit my thumbnail and tried to look demure. ‘We were collecting sand dollars. There are a lot of really nice ones over there.’

‘Sand dollars! Give me a break. So you were trespassing?’

‘When that man accosted us,’ Molly insisted, ‘we were well below the high-water mark.’

‘And today,’ I hastened to add, ‘we were on the water. On public property, so to speak. That’s what we want to talk to you about.’

‘I think we better sit down.’

Gator retrieved a couple of plastic lawn chairs from underneath a tarp, unfolded them, and placed them side by side on the concrete apron that surrounded his shack. He pulled up an empty barrel, turned it over and sat down facing us. ‘OK. Shoot.’

‘Last night after dinner, Molly and I were sitting on her porch and saw some unusual activity going on over at the Tamarind Tree Resort. Near the runway.’ I went on to explain about the lights, the plane, and the mysterious packages. ‘Molly tells me that she observed similar activity approximately a month ago, around the time that Frank and Sally Parker went missing.’

Gator opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut.

Molly shot me a glance. ‘I think we’ve stunned him into silence.’

‘That’s why we went over there this morning,’ I went on. ‘The plane is still parked on the runway, at least it was about an hour ago, but it’s what we saw tied up at the end of the dock that was interesting.’ I stood and rooted in the pocket of my cargo shorts until I found my camera. ‘I took some pictures of it, but I’m afraid my camera got a good dunking.’

I pressed the ON/OFF switch on the camera but, as I had feared, nothing happened. ‘Damn! Must be the battery. I’ll dry it out, then see if it’ll hold a charge.’

I opened a compartment on the side of the camera and pulled out the tiny memory chip. ‘But there shouldn’t be anything wrong with this.’ I held it out. ‘Do you have something you can read it on?’

‘Have you seen my office?’

‘All right, then. I’ll take it back to the house, dry everything out, and see what we have.’ I tucked the chip back into the camera for safekeeping. ‘I can email it to you as an attachment.’

Gator raised both hands, palms out. ‘So, let’s cut to the chase. Tell me what you think you have on that chip.’

‘Frankly, Gator, I’m not sure. It looks like a World War II torpedo, except it’s painted blue. Rusty in spots, pretty banged up. It’s got this propeller thing on the tail.’ I demonstrated by rotating my finger rapidly in the air.

‘How long?’

I shrugged. ‘Hard to say. Thirty feet maybe?’

‘Could it have been a submarine?’

‘It didn’t have a conning tower, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Kind of small for a submarine,’ Molly interjected. ‘You could squeeze a couple of people into it, but there wouldn’t be room enough to swing a cat.’

Gator stood up, tugged at the waistband of his shorts. ‘I think I’d better have a look. Have you called the police to report the shooting?’

‘I would have, but we don’t have a generator, so my cellphone ran out of juice last night.’

‘That’s all right. We can use mine. Then, I’m going to get you ladies back to your cottages.’

For the first time since we set off on our morning adventure, Molly smiled. ‘Thanks. I’d forgotten for a moment that my boat is out of commission.’

Gator dropped me at my dock, then ferried Molly to hers. I dragged myself along the planking, the vision of a long, hot soapy shower shimmering like a mirage at the end of the sidewalk. I’d actually taken my clothes off and climbed into the shower enclosure before I remembered – no power, no water pump, no water. Stark naked, I leaned back against the wall and bawled.

I was taking a shower at Molly’s when the power came back on. After Molly cut off her generator, I did a little happy dance around her garden.

Once we were sure it wasn’t a fluke, I removed my meat from Molly’s freezer and carried it back to Windswept where my refrigerator was humming away. Never came so close to hugging a major appliance.