Gloria Skurzynski - Mysteries in Our National Parks - Escape From Fear - A Mystery in Virgin Islands National Park

A MYSTERY IN VIRGIN ISLANDS NATIONAL PARK

For Denise Georges,

who brought the island of St. John

to life for the authors

Text copyright © 2002 Gloria Skurzynski and Alane Ferguson

Cover illustration copyright © 2008 Jeffrey Mangiat

All rights reserved.

Reproduction of the whole or any part of the contents is prohibited without written permission from the National Geographic Society, 1145 17th Street N.W., Washington, D.C. 20036.

Map by Carl Mehler, Director of Maps

Map research and production by Matt Chwastyk and Thomas L. Gray

Hawksbill turtle art by Joan Wolbier

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to living persons or events other than descriptions of natural phenomena is purely coincidental.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Skurzynski, Gloria.

Escape from fear / by Gloria Skurzynski and Alane Ferguson. p. cm.—(Mysteries in our national parks; #9)

Summary: While at St. John National Park in the Virgin Islands for a seminar on coral reefs, the Landons help a wealthy thirteen-year-old to find his birth mother, whom he believes is in danger.

ISBN: 978-1-4263-0972-4

[1. Racially mixed people—Fiction. 2. Adoption—Fiction. 3. Poaching—Fiction. 4. National parks and reserves. 5. Virgin Islands of the United States—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Ferguson, Alane. II. Title. III. Series.

PZ7.S6287 Es 2002

[Fic]—dc21

2001005508

Version: 2017-07-07

The authors are very grateful to

Ginger Garrison, Marine Ecologist,

U.S. Geological Survey, and to the staff members

of Virgin Islands National Park

who so generously shared their expertise:

Denise Georges, Park Ranger;

Ken Wild, National Park Service archaeologist;

Schuler Brown, Chief Ranger;

Judy Shafer, Deputy Superintendent; and

Rafe Boulon, Chief, Resource Management; and a

special thanks to Miss Felicia, the basket-maker.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

AFTERWORD

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

The beach stretched in front of him, a gleaming sweep of moonlit whiteness edged by a thick stand of trees. A perfect spot, the man told himself—secluded, wild, and most important of all, a place where there would be no witnesses.

It was when he’d dropped anchor into the ink-black water that he saw her, alone and vulnerable. Her eyes, large in the moonlight, watched him silently. She knew he was there.

“You see that?” he asked his accomplice, steadying himself as a wave broke against the bow. It sprayed a fine mist that glittered in the moonlight.

“I see dat. She be good, mon. So we goes an’ catch dis one big beautiful t’ing.”

Yes, they would take her. More money would fatten his wallet thanks to this lucky find. She was icing on his cake. Slipping into the waves, he made his way toward her….

Jack looked down, straining to catch a glimpse of ocean beneath him, but all he could see were endless white clouds floating like enormous swirls of meringue. After three hours in the air—just on this leg of the trip—he was more than anxious to reach his destination, Virgin Islands National Park on the island of St. John. He’d been dreaming of white beaches and turquoise waters, where rainbow-colored fish swam as thick as snowflakes and the water was as warm as the sunshine. After an icy Wyoming winter, he was ready for instant summer. Besides, with his skin the color of a fish’s underbelly, he needed to get started on a tan.

“Jack, where’s your sister?” his mother asked from a seat directly behind him.

“Looking for a People magazine,” Jack answered. “She’s trying to mooch one out of First Class.”

“You know she’s not supposed to go in there—if they catch her they’ll toss her right back into Coach.” A beat later, she asked, “Don’t you think she’s been gone an awfully long time?”

Jack shrugged. “Mom, we’re on an airplane. Even Ashley can’t get lost on an airplane.”

His mother, Olivia, was small—already shorter than Jack, who, at 13, stood at almost five feet seven inches. Olivia’s dark curly hair had been pulled into a ponytail, and she wore no makeup except lip gloss. Jack could see a three-inch stack of papers on her folding tray, marked with red lines and exclamation points that made the paper look as though it were bleeding red ink. Since they’d left Jackson Hole, she’d been poring though publications about coral reefs and hawksbill turtles, scratching notes in the margins of books and rereading research papers. National Parks frequently called Olivia, a wildlife veterinarian, for help when a species became threatened. The case in St. John involved a larger problem—Earth’s coral reefs were dying at an alarming rate. Since much of Virgin Islands National Park on St. John lay underwater, reef loss was hurting many species, including the endangered hawksbill turtles.

“Steven, don’t you think Ashley’s been gone too long?” Olivia prodded. “It’s been half an hour.”

Next to Olivia sat Jack’s dad, Steven, his reading glasses perched on the end of his thin nose. Steven, a professional photographer, had immersed himself in the newest photography magazine. Jack could see the beginning of a bald spot in the overhead light that cast a small circle on the top of his father’s blond head. “She’s probably busy chatting with the flight attendants,” Steven murmured without looking up.

Olivia scanned the aisle. “Maybe you’re right. I swear, that child has never met a stranger.”

“Which is why she’s been so good with our foster kids.” Pulling off his glasses, Steven dropped them into his shirt pocket and said, “You know, I was just thinking how long it’s been since we’ve had a trip with just the four of us. It seems we’ve had a foster kid or two to stir things up on every single park visit. What are we going to do without all the excitement?”

“Rest. Play. Relax!” Jack broke in. At least, that was what he was counting on. What his dad said was true—every single time the Landons had been scheduled to leave on a trip, it seemed, a foster kid materialized at almost the last second. But not this trip. Now it was just his own family on the way to paradise, exactly the way Jack wanted it. Settling back into his seat, he heard his mother murmur something he couldn’t quite make out, to which his father replied, “OK, if it will make you feel better, I’ll go find her.”

“You don’t need to, Dad,” Jack said, pointing. “There she is. Check it out—Ashley’s coming from First Class. And it looks like she’s bringing a friend.”

His sister’s small frame seemed to bounce with every step as she made her way down the narrow aisle. Behind her was a boy close to Jack’s age, as perfectly pressed as an airline pilot—tan khakis, the kind with a knife pleat down the front, topped by an impeccably tailored navy-blue blazer worn over a red-and-white cotton shirt. Whoever this guy was, it looked as though he definitely did not want to trail after Ashley through Coach. Poor sucker, Jack thought. He wasn’t the first to be pulled into Ashley’s tractor beam.