Killer Knots (18 page)

“Forget the designer mall,” Marla advised Brianna, sitting on her right. “Looks like they have mainly wood carvings, Honduran coffee, T-shirts, and pottery.”

Squeezed between Vail and his daughter, she peered out the window at a cluster of ramshackle buildings, many of them on stilts, before they headed into the lush hills behind a Nissan pickup truck. Horses grazed on a pasture as they chugged up an incline. Wildflowers growing on a grassy patch by the roadside provided splashes of color.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” Kate gushed, pointing to a vista of jungle vegetation when they reached the summit of one mountain. She wore a straw hat, shorts, and a wraparound tunic over her one-piece swimsuit.

Marla, not in the mood to talk, nodded. She focused on a town terraced up a hillside where stray dogs roamed. Laundry on a line flapped in the breeze, while slatted windows on the dwellings meant natural air-conditioning. They rounded a curve with a wooded slope on the right and a white car passing on the left. An electric wire crossed the road overhead. The other side of the range boasted wealthier homes and a glimpse of the jeweled sea far below.

From the tour guide, she learned there were 60,000 people living on the island, which at forty-nine square miles was the largest of the Bay Islands. Surrounded by the world’s second-largest reef, Roatan had a rich underwater environment that drew scuba divers, snorkelers, and fishermen.

“Roatan has a one percent crime rate because the jail cell is ten by ten and holds up to thirty people,” the attractive young woman told her captive audience from the front of the van. Marla’s lip curled. Vail had straightened at the mention of a jail. “It has no toilets, no air-conditioning, and someone must share food with you or you’ll starve.”

Holding a microphone, the guide staved off questions. “Artifacts that we call
yabba-ding-dings
are still found throughout the island. The Paya Indians were the first residents. They were a smaller and less advanced group than the Mayans. When one of them died, the survivors broke and buried their clay pottery along with the body. Pieces of pottery, shells, and other ceremonial relics tell the island’s history.”

Marla returned her attention to the view out the window, not caring that Columbus arrived in 1502. The slave trade, pirates, and battles with British troops didn’t excite her either. When she heard mention of treasure chests, however, she perked up. Having recently discovered Grandfather Andrew’s hidden gemstones at Sugar Crest Plantation Resort, she could relate to the topic.

Roatan had been a pirate stronghold for Captain Henry Morgan, who plundered Spanish ships carrying gold from mainland Honduras. In the 1920s, British archaeologist Mitchell-Hedges explored the ruins of a pirate fortress at Old Port Royal. He discovered four wooden chests filled with gold doubloons. Back in New York, he sold off his loot for $6 million and bought himself a castle in England.

But that wasn’t his most noted discovery. Mitchell-Hedges also uncovered a crystal skull in Belize said to have supernatural properties, and ancient artifacts in limestone caves at the far end of Roatan. He believed these mysterious relics to be remnants from the lost civilization of Atlantis.

Other explorers, Howard Jennings and his friend Robin Moore, came in the 1960s. They unearthed chests containing silver bars and gold coins. Much more could remain hidden on the island, a lost legacy from the thousands of pirates who’d lived there.

Marla’s ears closed, and she began dreaming of a different type of treasure: the liquid kind. She couldn’t wait to claim a lounge chair on the beach, sip an icy rum drink, and sink her feet into the powdery white sand.

Tabyana Beach turned out to be everything she’d hoped for in a tropical paradise. As they entered the grounds, she let her eyes feast on the twisting vines, almond trees, coconut palms, pink bougainvillea, and sea grapes. Buildings sprinkled among the shrubs held changing rooms and showers, a barbecue pit, and the ever-present gift shop.

Emerging from the van into the bright sunshine, she heard a steel band playing “La Bamba.” Waves swished in the distance, where sparkles of light glinted on the sea.

“Take my picture,” Brianna said, thrusting her digital camera into Marla’s hand. She posed in front of a painted wood sign that read: TABYANA, THE LOST CARIBBEAN. Tropical foliage and red flowers framed the shot.

Marla took a turn next, adjusting her malleable turquoise ha—purchased from the ship’s boutique—to shadow her face. She wore flowered capris and a solid top over her two-piece swimsuit. Turquoise appeared to be a popular island choice; many of the cement-block houses with tin roofs they’d passed were the same color, reflecting the sea.

“I’m hungry,” Vail said, pointing his nose in the direction of the lunch hut. He’d stuck a baseball cap on his head to shade his face.

Marla adjusted her sunglasses. “What do you want to do first, honey?” she asked Brianna.

“Let’s reserve our chairs,” Brianna said, bouncing with excitement. She’d slung a beach towel over her shoulder. “Hey, look, there’s a parrot.” She pointed to a green bird sitting on a branch. Tropical trees and palms shaded a lush expanse of sand before the beach proper. Marla and Brianna snapped more photos of each other beside the colorful bird, who eyed them as though they were intruders.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Kate announced. “Anyone else need to go?”

“We’ll meet you, Grandma.” Brianna strode away, her legs long and slim. She’d be a stunner when she grew up, Marla thought, hustling to keep pace.

“I’ll check out the food,” Vail called, veering toward the mouth-watering barbecue smell.

John trudged along in Marla’s wake. She paused to let him catch up. “Do you like the beach?” she queried, hoping to draw him out.

“It’s okay,” he said in a noncommittal tone, “but I can’t stay too long in the sun.” His lack of swim trunks gave truth to his words. Knobby knees showed beneath a pair of Bermuda shorts, partially covered by a loose-fitting Tommy Bahama silk shirt.

She pointed to a pair of lounge chairs under a thatched-roof cover. “Why don’t you take that spot? It’s shady but you won’t be far from the rest of us.”

He nodded, a floppy canvas hat bobbing on his head. Tromping over, he claimed both spaces, in case Kate decided to join him.

“Oh, Brie, look,” Marla cried.

“What?” Brianna halted.

“You can get your hair braided. See?” Red lettering on a white board read: PROFESSIONAL HAIR BRAIDING, WELCOME TO ROATAN, INSTRUCTION GIVEN ON HOW TO CARE AND REMOVE YOUR BRAIDS. The board stood next to a poster displaying customers’ photos. An empty white chair leaned against a palm trunk, fronds shading the ground. The lady must be on break, Marla figured.

“Why should I get that done here?” Brianna said with the incredulous tone of a teen who felt her elders lacked a few mental marbles. “I can go to your salon at home.”

“I don’t use colored beads, nor am I good at ethnic styles. You’d have to ask Nicole.” Nicole, salon manager in her stead, was their specialist on ethnic hair design.

“Never mind. Let’s claim our spot before it gets crowded.”

Slatted beach chairs formed rows along a sandy stretch interspersed with graceful palms. Overhead, fluffy clouds drifted in an azure sky. Hills rose to the left, where the land curved around the lagoon. On their right was some kind of dock with small boats, and a sign attached under a coconut palm: PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH OR STAND ON THE CORAL.

“I’ll go test the water,” Marla said to Brianna, who’d laid their towels and beach bags over several chairs. “Do you want to come?” She couldn’t wait to dip into the ocean.

“I’ll wait for Daddy. You go on ahead.” With a blissful sigh, Brianna sank onto a chaise and stretched out, tilting her head to catch the sun.

Marla waded into the water, letting the foam swoosh around her ankles. She couldn’t believe the clarity, nor the mixture of colors: turquoise, aqua, jade, and farther out, cobalt blue. Salt spray mixed with coconut scent in the air. Water lapped at her calves, rose to her knees as she ventured farther. Its warm silky feel seduced her into dunking herself. The sea embraced her, soothed her skin with its gentle current as she crouched neck deep.

Squinting behind her sunglasses, her hat left on shore, she saw a middle-aged man stand in the shallow depths and wipe water from his eyes. Heads bobbed all around from swimmers who’d submerged their bodies, and their laughter reached her ears.

A brief moment of fear slashed through her as she thought of a tsunami. The flat surface could change in an instant into a broiling mass of water. No warning, and they’d all be dead, drowned.

Her gaze lifted to the horizon, where dark sea met lighter sky. The tableaux looked so tranquil, but looks could deceive. So could people.

First Martha, and then Brooklyn. Gone. Like the tsunami victims.

Or maybe not.

Helen’s message…Could she have been referring to them?

Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the port, Dalton said to the driver transporting them to their ship. He’d ushered them into his vehicle as soon as they’d appeared at the pickup point on Tabyana Beach. Without waiting for other passengers, the native had screeched off in a cloud of dust before they’d even been seated.

On their left, the ocean stretched to the far horizon. “We take da scenic route, mon. I show you da place where dey found pirate treasure.”

“Do you mean Coxen’s Cave?” Brianna asked excitedly. “Cool, I’d love to see it.”

Marla unfolded a map from her purse. “Isn’t that inside Gumbalimba Park? We’d have to pay to get in, and according to this map, the park is near West Bay. We’re going in the opposite direction.”

“This be a private spot, lady, where Captain Morgan buried his chests full of gold doubloons. Mebbe you dig and get lucky.”

“Surely you can’t be taking us to Old Port Royal. I’ve read my island history. That’s forty miles away on the east end.”

They left the paved roadway and bumped along a dirt road. Reddish clay soil spewed from the tires. Their van continued to follow the coastal route.

“I take shortcut inland to ship. You’ll see.”

True to his promise, the driver cut onto another paved road about twenty minutes up the coast. Engine revving, the van climbed into the hills. Greenery met Marla’s eyes on either side, with electric poles at periodic intervals. Overhead wires presented an incongruous sign of civilization amid the forest.

Studying her map, she saw a couple of roads that cut across the island toward the town of Coxen’s Hole, although these were situated at a considerable distance from their original route. Nonetheless, they had plenty of time before the ship sailed.

Feeling gritty from sand and sweat, she took out her water bottle and gulped a few sips. The sun had sapped her energy.

She let her eyes drift shut until a jolt aroused her.

“All right, ladies and gents, we get off here,” said their driver, shutting off the ignition. “I show you overlook to pirate cave. Den we go to ship.”

“I’ll stay put,” Kate said, her face flushed from the heat and fatigue. Wisps of hair had escaped from her hat and were sticking to her moist forehead.

“Sorry, I check oil while you have look-see. Everyone out.” After hustling them off the van, he led them on a winding trail through a jungle thicket to a ridge. “Limestone cliffs are riddled with caves. Look closely, and you can see ruins of old fortress. You wanna visit, dat path take you downhill.”

“I don’t see anything,” Brianna whined, flinging her backpack onto a rock. “Let’s go back to the van.”

“Listen up,” Vail said to the guide’s retreating back, “something doesn’t seem kosher here. We didn’t pay for any extra stops, and this seems out of the way. Don’t waste our time—” He stopped when the driver spun around, gun in hand. “Shit. I should have seen that coming.”

“Don’t blame yourself; you’re on vacation.” Marla winced as she considered her own lack of foresight. “I imagine someone paid him to delay us.”
Like the fellow in St. Maarten who’d drugged her drink?

“I not want to hurt anyone,” the skinny man said, waving his weapon. His eyes glimmered with fear, not malice. Noting how his hand shook, Marla didn’t move. “You wait until I leave. Then you walk to nearest village. Fisherman can take you to airport.”

Vail’s hands curled into fists, but he didn’t budge. His eyes trained on their driver. “Airport? We have to get back to our ship. Who hired you? We’ll pay you more.”

“No deal, mon. I got reputation to maintain.” With those words, he flipped about and hoofed it to the van. They heard the engine catch, roar into action, and diminish as the vehicle tore down the road.

“At least we didn’t leave our bags on the van,” Marla said with an air of dejection. Just what they needed. A hike through the jungle. Were Dalton’s parents capable of strenuous activity? How far would they have to go before finding help?

“Thank goodness for small things,” John replied in a cheery tone. “Let’s go, people. We have a long walk ahead of us.” Putting his foot forward, he started back along the trail.

“You sound like you’re enjoying this,” Kate accused, stumbling along in her sandals.

“Consider it an adventure, dear. God knows we have little excitement in our life these days.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? That I bore you?”

“You like to play it safe. I’m ready to take risks, enjoy life to its fullest. Who knows how much time we have left.”

“Not much, if we don’t make it to civilization before dark,” Kate griped. She tripped on a tree root and yelped. As she recovered her balance she dropped her beach towel. “Oh yuck, now it’s full of this awful clay.” Shaking it out, she wrinkled her nose.

“Anybody got bug spray?” Brianna asked, stomping along. She’d flung her backpack across her shoulders and stuck a sun visor on her head.

“I wish.” Kate swiped her forehead. “God, it’s hot.”

“This is nothing compared to Florida in the summer. Right, kids?” John marched along, undaunted by their situation.

Kate, inhaling deeply, grumbled, “I’m already out of breath.”

“Did anybody tell you that you have a flair for the dramatic?” John snapped. “Come on, we’ll never make it if you go at a snail’s pace.”

“Mom and Dad, stop a minute. We have to figure out which way to go,” Vail said. “Marla, let me see your map.”

“We’re on the north side of the island.” Pointing, she showed him their approximate location. “We have to get across the hills to the other side. If we can reach French Harbour, we could hire a fishing boat, like the driver said.”

She didn’t share her thoughts. They’d never make it to the ship on time.

Vail’s glowering expression told her he had reached the same assessment. “We’d better get going then. Mom, are you okay?” He regarded Kate with consternation.

His mother squared her shoulders. “I’ll be fine. Take the lead, Dalton. We’ll follow. Come, Brie, walk beside me.”

Following the road didn’t turn out to be such a good idea. It curved east, heading up the island instead of crossing the ranges. Faced with this obstacle, they halted.

“We have three choices,” Marla said, consulting her map. “I think we’re right over here. If we keep on this road, it will take us to a paved section running to the south side, but much farther to the east. We can backtrack to the coastal strip until we get to a major intersection. Or we can cut through the woods and try to reach this little road heading to French Harbour. There aren’t any direct routes.”

“I hear water,” Vail said, cocking his head. “If it’s running downstream, we might be able to follow it toward the ocean. That may be quicker.”

Breaking off from their path, he crashed through the underbrush for the source of the noise. The others, not wishing to be left behind, staggered after him. He paused by a brook where water trickled down a series of rocks into a small pool.

“It doesn’t go anywhere,” he said disappointedly. Stooping, he splashed his face. “Feels good, though.”

Marla stepped to the bank, kicked off her sandals, and stuck her feet into the cool water. Ah, what relief. Wiggling her toes to clean off any remaining sand from the beach, she bent over to rinse her hands.

After they’d refreshed themselves, they set off through a clearing in a direction Vail deemed south. He used his watch as a compass, reassuring the others that they couldn’t get too lost on an island where they’d eventually end up at the ocean.

Dubious about his advice, Marla followed him through the jungle. Vail took the lead, swishing the air in front of him with his towel to demolish spiderwebs.

“Stamp your feet and make noise,” Brianna said from Marla’s rear. They walked single file, with John at the end. “It scares away snakes.”

“Snakes!” Marla squeaked. Brushing away a branch that swiped her face, she grimaced. Spiders were bad enough, but snakes? Bird cries echoed through the jungle along with a strange chittering. Leaves rustled overhead. Glancing up, she squinted behind her sunglasses. Was that a monkey she saw swinging on a vine?

Shuddering despite the heat, she watched her footing. Rocks, gnarled roots, and fallen coconuts made for slower going than she would have liked. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, glistening on cobwebs and fluttering butterflies. Ephiphytes vied for space with strangler figs and wild banana plants.

“Here’s a bunch that looks ready for picking,” Brianna cried, rushing ahead. She threw a banana to each of them and they consumed their snack, finishing the fruit off with a sip from their water bottles.

Marla tore off a couple of extra bananas, brushed away any clinging dirt, and stuffed them into her sack. “I’d suggest you all take a few. We may need them later.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Kate stated.

“Not again.” John glared at her. “You just went before we caught the van.”

“So? I have a small bladder.”

“You have a funnel. It goes from your mouth straight to your pee-pee.”

“Pick a tree, Mom,” Vail said with resignation. “We won’t look.”

“Fine. I have tissues if anyone else needs them. Brie?”

The teenager shook her head, swinging her ponytail. “Something might bite me on the rush. I’ll wait.”

Minutes later, Kate came streaking toward them. “There’s a giant creature in there! It looks like a dinosaur.”

“Nonsense,” Vail scoffed. “Let me see.” He loped toward the site. “It’s only an iguana,” he called, his tall form barely visible behind the foliage.

A screeching noise made them all jump.

“What’s that?” John rasped.

“Probably a howler monkey,” Vail replied, returning to their clearing. “Come on, we’re wasting time.” Forging a path past a large fern, he signaled for the rest of them to follow.

Under other circumstances, Marla might have enjoyed the beauty of their surroundings, but not when they had a schedule to keep. If they got lost, they’d roam for hours in the forest. She wouldn’t care to be there after sunset. Swatting at an insect, she kept pace, skirting a cashew tree, a cluster of crotons, and a red-tipped ginger plant.

A parrot squawked from a nearby tree beyond a stand of bamboo. Distracted, Marla almost tripped into what looked like an anthill, out of which spilled a posse of slimy beetles. Grimacing, she scratched her arm, feeling as though bugs crawled along her skin.

“Hey, here’s shelter,” Vail yelled, speeding forward.

Marla hastened to catch up, viewing the ramshackle shed with doubt. Perhaps it had been erected for travelers, but from the looks of the jagged hole in its roof, the structure hadn’t survived the latest tempest. A scraping noise came from the shed’s rear, accompanied by a man’s grunt and the sound of gravel hitting stone.

When they rounded the corner, two men glanced up. They wore sweat-stained clothing, floppy canvas hats, and boots. One of them held a shovel and the other stretched a measuring device between a forked tree and a large boulder. From the mounds of earth piled beside a trench, it appeared they’d been digging.

Their faces scrunched in a manner that meant they were none too happy to have visitors. Marla got a whiff of their unwashed bodies and hung back.

“Oh, are we glad to see you,” Kate cried, rushing ahead before Marla could warn her. “Do you have a phone? Or a car?”

“Who are you?” the taller white man groused, swirling saliva in his mouth before spitting. His leathery skin bore the ravages of too much sun. Gripping the shovel, he spread his legs in a challenging stance.

Marla could feel Vail tense. His fingers wagged at his waistline, as though reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.

“We’ve been stranded,” Kate said, smiling and fluttering her hands in the air. She looked as innocent to danger as a baby bird cast from its nest. “Can you help us? Our ship is due to sail, and we have to reach the port.”

An avaricious gleam entered the man’s eyes. “Oh yeah? If you’re on one of them fancy big ships, maybe you’re worth some-thin’. You people from the States?”

“Are you nuts?” countered his pasty-faced companion. “These folks will tell where they seen us, Eddie.”

“Keep your trap shut.”

“But we gotta—”

“You’re right.” Eddie lifted his shovel and addressed the newcomers. “Get into the shed,” he told them.

Marla wasn’t about to be locked up in a dark hidey-hole again. She exchanged glances with Vail, who then gestured to Kate to move back. When the older woman returned a bewildered stare, Marla gritted her teeth. Really, how could Kate be so naive?
Get out of the way
, she silently urged.

At her side, Brianna stooped to fix her sandal but grabbed a handful of dirt instead and threw it at their assailants.

Vail sprung into a dive and tackled Eddie at the legs. Toppling backward, the tall man took Vail with him and tried to clobber him with the blunt end of the shovel. The two men rolled on the ground struggling while Shorty flew at Kate.

John grabbed his wife’s hand and yanked her out of the way. Shorty stumbled into Marla’s path, reassessed his prey, and drew a knife. He swung at her stomach.

Marla blocked the thrust with her beach bag, then smashed her knee into his groin before he could react with the blade.

Howling, he doubled over. Using a move Vail had taught her, she elbowed him on the jaw, resulting in the satisfactory sound of crunching bone. He went down like laundry in a chute.

Breathing hard, she bent to steady herself.

“We’ve got to help Daddy!” Brianna cried, clutching her arm.

The men tossed on the packed earth, a flurry of battling arms and legs. Eddie had dropped his shovel, but he rained a series of punches at Vail, his leaner frame proving more agile.

Kate and John stood off to the side watching in horror.

Marla felt a wave of helplessness, afraid she’d hurt her fiance instead of Eddie if she attempted to interfere.

“Look out!” she hollered when Eddie, on the top, scrabbled for a rock and aimed it at Vail’s head.

Vail turned his neck but still received a glancing blow. Stunned, he let his arms fall to his side.

Eddie circled his hands around Vail’s throat.