She grabbed my arm, pulling me back from the water. “Marion, you’re nuts. Jesus Christ, I’m surprised you’re still alive. Get in my little boat, I’ll take you.”
“I don’t mind the swim. It’s not a problem.”
“Oh yeah? Hand me that little flashlight you got-no, look, don’t even bother. There she is right by the dock. Lizzy Pig. You can see her in the light. I hate her. She still gives me nightmares.”
Lizzy Pig? What kind of name was that?
Then I saw, and understood. Drifting alongside the Nan-Shan was one of the biggest alligators I’ve ever seen. Had to be close to fourteen feet long and so broad that it resembled an Australian croc-or the empty fuel drum I’d mistaken it for on my swim in.
When the girl took my fins and mask and stepped toward her little boat, I didn’t protest. “Lizzy Pig, Daddy’s had her for years. She gets real excited the nights he puts on dogfights. Big old fat lizard. She knows, next morning, he’s gonna feed her the losers.”
19
On Tuesday morning, December 16, I caught an American Eagle Flight to Miami International-not my favorite airport in Florida-and stood in line at the Avianca desk until I had tickets to Cartagena in hand.
Two tickets, not one.
I had an unexpected travel companion at my side: Amelia Gardner.
Early Saturday morning, just before dawn’s first gray light, when I’d returned to my rental cottage at the Pelican Post on Bradenton Beach, her green Jeep was in the driveway, the hood cool to the touch. I tapped on the door before entering and found her curled on the couch, windows open, Gulf breeze blowing through the curtains.
When she asked where I’d been, I used the first alibi that came to mind, saying, “If I’d known you were coming back, I wouldn’t have stayed out so late snook fishing.” It didn’t account for being dressed in tactical clothing, but I’m not the most creative person around nor the quickest thinking.
She pursed her lips as she rubbed her eyes and said, “Bullshit.” Then she reached, switched on the floor lamp, and held up the piece of notebook paper on which I’d made notes while talking to Dalton Dorsey.
Dexter Money’s name was on the paper, as well as the name of his shrimp boat, the Nan-Shan. Stupidly, I’d left it atop the chest of drawers in the bedroom.
She said, “When you called the second time, almost two-thirty, I started to feel bad about not picking up. I know I’ve got a temper, and I work hard at controlling it. So I decided to call you back. No answer. I called a couple of more times, still no answer. By three, I was worried sick. So I got in my Jeep and came looking.”
I crossed the room, saying, “Like I told you, I was out fishing. There was a great tide tonight at Longboat Pass.” I opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Coors. I was exhausted but still wired.
“Sorry, Doc, I don’t buy it. I deal with professional liars every day, and you’re no professional. You weren’t here and your boat was gone. Your shaving kit was still in the bathroom-I could see it through the window, so Mrs. Post gave me a key. I found this note in the bedroom. I admit it, I’m a snoop. So who’s Dexter Ray Money?”
“Nobody. A guy I wanted to see about a boat. What I’m wondering is, why are you so suspicious?”
“How do you know him?”
“Friend of a friend. Boaters are a pretty tight bunch.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Amelia tossed back the thin bedspread and stood. She’d changed out of the black dinner dress into neatly pressed jeans and a white blouse. No makeup now, but her red hair still held the light. “I’m suspicious,” she said, “because I’m a public defender in this county and I know who Dexter Money is. I know what a piece of trash the guy is. I’ve had to defend some of his sicko buddies. And I’ve heard the rumors about how he makes a living with his shrimp boats.”
She took a step closer, staring into my eyes. “There’s something you’re not telling me, Ford. You had an appointment with him tonight, didn’t you? Or someone. That’s why you made me leave. You’re not up here for a meeting with Bell Fish. That’s bullshit, too.”
“Would you feel better if I said yes?”
That made her smile; she couldn’t help it. “Goddamn right I would! I’ve got feelings. But only if it’s true. No woman likes throwing herself at a man, then being told thanks but no thanks. And only if you’re not involved with some kind of illegal crap with that redneck slime. Which I wouldn’t believe even if you told me yourself.”
She was standing so close to me now that I could feel the warmth of her breath when she spoke. Her eyes were the luminous green of fresh mint. When I didn’t answer right away, she put her hands on my arms and said, “You’ve heard something about them, haven’t you? Our missing friends. It has something to do with Janet, Michael, and Grace. I can sense it. Why else would you be sneaking around at night, talking to criminals who own shrimp boats? Were you trying to buy information from Dex Money?”
I placed my beer on the table, still looking in her eyes. Touched my index finger to her chin, tilting it upward, then kissed her lips softly, then again, feeling her tongue move and moisten. When I felt her hands slide to my sides, when I felt her body begin to react, I pulled away long enough to say, “All I can tell you is, I think you were right. I think there’s a chance a boat picked them up and took them to South America, maybe Colombia. I’m leaving Sunday if I can get a flight. Monday, maybe Tuesday at the latest.”
Momentarily, her eyes had gone sleepy-woozy, but now they came back into sharp focus. “I’m going with you.”
“Absolutely not.”
She stepped back, holding me away with her hands. She was suddenly very serious again. “Doc, you don’t understand. I have to go. If there’s any chance they’re still alive, I have to go and try to help them. Please don’t argue with me about this. You don’t know how important it is to me.”
I was looking into her face, feeling, once again, that there was something she wanted to tell me but couldn’t. I said, “This is the sort of thing that one person can do better than two. Colombia’s a dangerous place. If you go, it’ll only double our risk.”
“I don’t care! I’m going. I’ve got my reasons.”
Sometimes you sense the need to push, and so I did. “Reasons? Why, because you feel guilty?”
Her face flushed. “Yes! I feel guilty. I’ve already told you that.”
Now I was holding her arms, making her look into my eyes. “Yeah, you told me, Amelia, but you didn’t tell me the rest of it. You haven’t told anyone, have you? What really happened out there that night? You’ve got the courage to go to Colombia, but you don’t have the courage to tell me the truth, do you?”
“That’s not fair, Doc!”
“Fair? Unless you’re playing some kind of game, why should there be rules? Just tell me what happened.”
“Okay. Okay, I will. The truth is… the truth is…” She yanked her arms free of my grasp, turned her back to me, shuddered, and then began to sob as she talked. “The truth is I’m a worthless, cowardly piece of crap because I went off and I left them! Okay? I went off and left all three of them alone to die. I panicked. I’ve never been so scared in my life! That’s what happened. Are you satisfied?” She’d been shouting, still crying, sobbing, and now she turned to face me, her eyes closed, and leaned against my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, patting the small of her back. I waited for what seemed a full minute before I said softly, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Amelia. It’s okay.”
She was shaking her head. “No. No, it’s not okay. That night, when we were trying to swim together, they were going so slow. I knew we weren’t going to make it to the tower. Then I got hit by a really big wave and sucked down a lot of water. Then I got hit by another, and I just snapped. I lost it. I ripped my BCD off and started swimming. I could hear them shouting for me to come back, but I didn’t. The last thing I heard Janet say was, ‘Please don’t leave us alone.’