Chapter Two
Denise and Ashley sat as the two men took over. They hadn't bothered to look for themselves or to bring any equipment of their own. Rather they simply picked up the stuff Denise and Ashley brought and started using it. With the two archeologists safely tied and gagged, the two were able to go about their business.
Denise was furious. Being tied up was bad enough, but there was also the insult to her professional duty to rankle her. She was charged with finding out about the past, while these two were in one of two categories: either a pair of crooks in it to two line their own pockets or two crooks in the employ of some amateur who was in it to have the treasure in some sort of private collection.
Ashley looked around for something sharp. The two goons were in a position similar to herself and Denise not too long ago: so intent on what they were looking for they would not be paying attention to anything around them. Unfortunately, Ashley was unable to find anything sharp. Such convenient objects were found only in Hollywood, bad novels, and cheesy Internet adventure stories.
The calm was interrupted by the sudden appearance of two figures. One was black and the other was white. Both were women, or at least appeared to be. Denise assumed that the long brown hair and a smooth lean calves visible between the shorts and hiking boots belonged to a woman. She also wondered if the they were the pair she had seen snorkeling the previous day, as the woman whose face was visible was black.
Either way, the two drove off the two thugs with swift kicks and well-executed flips. Only then did Denise and Ashley get to see the faces of both their rescuers. Indeed, once they recognized the other face, they were sure it was a rescue.
"Now, how did you get yourselves in so much trouble?" Kate Kelly asked.
"You know these two?" her companion asked.
"My archeologist friends, Denise Stuart and Ashley Ferrel," Kate said as she went to work on the ropes binding the captives.
"Since Kate's a bit negligent on introductions, I'll have to take matters into my own hands," her companion said. "My name's Carrie Long,"
"You're a P.I., too?" Ashley asked, once free of the gag.
Carrie nodded. "I didn't start out in the navy, though. D.C. police."
"I think I saw you two snorkeling yesterday," Denise said then gave the location and approximate time.
"Guilty as charged," Kate said.
"You're not into scuba are you Carrie?"
"I'd rather not rush things," Carrie said. "Until about a year ago, the biggest body of water I swam in was the Georgetown University pool."
"Enough about us," Kate said. "What are you doing?"
Denise briefed Kate about the supposed treasure. "It's possible," Kate said. "You can forget that stuff about lost pirate treasure. They spent it all. If not on booze and prostitutes, then by setting up a business ashore and building a fine house."
"I suppose you two are on a case."
"That's right."
"I hope you didn't have to go too far out of your way to help us," Ashley said.
"We were trailing them anyway," Carrie said.
"Too bad the got away," Denise said.
"We have other things to look into," Kate said.
"Of course. Even with that in mind, I hope we run into each other when you're finished."
"Maybe we will."
Kate and her partner left, while Denise and Ashley continued their search before they made their way back to Nassau. It was not as if they had not seen Kate since their Egyptian adventure. The three spent many a weekend together and on extended weekend in the warm weather, sometimes took camping trips. Still, they not met her on a case since the affair with the Scrolls of Ramses.
"Very convenient of them to show up when they did," Ashley said.
"Indeed," Denise put in. "Also very lucky for us."
"I know we don't usually ask Kate about her cases, but do you think we should have asked more about it?"
"I guess these guys are like claim jumpers in the Old West. Are you thinking that's why happened to cross paths with us?"
"It's possible."
"Perhaps, but let's get back to what we came here to do. I hope none of this equipment has been damaged."
Everything worked properly and they went back to work looking for the treasure. Of course, the time lost by seizure and rescue meant there would be less time to do any searching before nightfall. However, they had a camping permit and the tent was pitched.
It was much too hot for Ashley and Denise to crawl into sleeping bags. Rather, they used the sleeping bags as mattresses. As they were no strangers to camping, the pair was able to sleep without much difficulty and woke the next day refreshed and ready for action. Unfortunately, they were unable to find anything and the trudged back to the hotel to regroup and take much-needed showers.
Denise had long found the a good shower to be conducive to thinking so she let Ashley go first, lest all the hot water be taken. In the shower, stark naked and lathered with soap, she was struck with a brainstorm. Perhaps the governor had a personal residence on the island and the stuff was buried there and not at the official residence. She rinsed off and as she dried herself, explained her idea to Ashley.
"Government House, governor's house," Ashley thought aloud. "They certainly sound alike. And somebody can easily make the mistake of thinking the stuff was buried at the governor's official residence."
"We can start looking into that in the morning, but there's something I think we should investigate right now."
"What's that?"
"Dinner."
As the entered the hotel dining room, they saw Kate and Carrie about to be offered seats. "Make that a table for four," Kate said as she indicated the new arrivals. "They're friends."
"Very well," the headwaiter said and led the quartet to a table.
The members of the group sat down and contemplated their orders. After the orders had been placed, the conversation began in earnest. Inevitably, talk turned to Kate and Carrie's particular line of work. "Any more on our two friends from yesterday?" Ashley asked.
"We think they might be local talent recruited by outsiders," Kate said.
"Our client is a legitimate treasure hunter working for in conjunction with the Smithsonian," Carrie said. "Lately, there have been attempts to crash various treasure sites."
"Sometimes you can find a few loose Spanish coins after a hurricane, but they've been hitting possible and known wreck sites. Although we're not working for the Fisher family, they have reported problems on the Atocha site of the Keys."
Kate was referring to the lost Spanish treasure ship Nuesta Senora de Atocha, found by Mel Fisher. It was the largest treasure haul ever found and all had not been recovered.
Kate continued, "There has been a dive boat called the Grail linked with these problems. Unlike some boats, it's home isn't painted on the stern."
"You've traced it back Nassau, then." Denise said.
"We saw Shorty and Baldy leave it yesterday," Carrie said. "They have been all the people we have been able to see with any connection with the boat, except for a deckhand."
"We're trying to stake out the boat," Kate said.
"Kate has too much navy in her. She wants to creep up on it in the middle of the night and sneak aboard."
"I think that stuff went out with sails," Ashley said and they all laughed.
"How did things go in your department?" Kate asked Denise.
"Struck out," Denise replied.
The food arrived and talk went away from business. They enjoyed their meal and each other's company. After dinner, the two pairs went their separate ways. "There're good friends," Kate confided to Carrie in their suite, "but I don't want to drag them into this any more than they already are."
"Yeah, Carrie said. "I figured that real archeologists weren't like Indiana Jones or Lara Croft. She then changed the subject back to their case. "We'll go with the two pronged approach."
"One by land, one sea."
"You taking the sea."
"Through no fault of either one of us, I look like most of the tourists and you look like most of the locals."
"That should also dictate what we should wear."
The next morning, Kate and Carrie made their preparations. Kate would play the tourist and rent a boat, while Carrie would pose as a local. Carrie had been to various islands in the Caribbean, both for vacations and for investigations. She could easily pass for local, so long as she didn't speak. Her accent would be a dead giveaway.
Therefore, she laid out clothes chosen especially for such an occasion: denim cut-offs, a t-shirt, and a pair of beat-up shoes. That was the easy part. She needed some way to carry her binoculars in some container that would not look touristy. Finally, she decided to rent a motor scooter. It had carrier and a visit to an open-air produce market netted her a bunch of bananas, which she carried in a paper bag. It was a bit too big for the bananas alone, but was big enough to conceal her binoculars.
She drove to the harbor and saw Grail sitting at anchor in its usual spot. On the after deck was a winch for raising heavy artifacts from the seabed. The paint was bright and fresh, but the vessel lacked the shine of something new. Not something new, but and older boat bought and refurbished.
There were signs of life aboard, but Carrie preferred to do her observation from concealment. She saw a battered old shed near the wharves used by fishing vessels. That would be perfect, she thought and made her way to the shed. She parked the scooter on the shady side of the shed and stood close to it then trained her binoculars onto the boat in the harbor.
There were more people gathered on Grail's afterdeck. Carrie's attention was on a couple. The man had brown hair and wore an unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt and what appeared to be shorts or swim trunks. Probably the latter, as his companion had a sarong wrapped around her waist and a bikini top, the lower portion no doubt hidden by the sarong. The woman had silky black hair, but did not appear to be Hispanic. A British Red Ensign flew on the stern. Perhaps the man was a Brit and the woman -she might even be his wife-was Italian.
Grail never docked, it merely dropped anchor and those who needed to go ashore did so in an inflatable rubber boat. At the moment, none were moving, either to or from the larger boat. The winch was the focus of attention right now. From appearances, it was not undergoing repairs, just some routine maintenance. Considering the winch was exposed to the salt sea air, it was probably something to inhibit rust.
Finally, the maintenance was completed and the group retired below decks. Eventually, two men emerged and removed a canvas cover from an object on the foredeck. They lifted a rubber boat off the deck and set it down in the water. The later emerged, though this time, the man's shirt was buttoned and he wore slacks. He and the two deck hands climbed down into the rubber boat and headed for shore.
When it became clear that the raft would be coming close to where she was, Carrie decided to duck inside the shed. She heard the sound of the outboard motor grow louder as it approached. When the noise reached its peak, the motor was shut off. Carrie heard a bit of conversation, but was unable to get anything relevant.
After a while she heard a conversation going on just outside the shed. Idle talk mostly, just to help pass the time. "Let's check inside, in case somebody took something from the shed," one voice said.
Carrie looked around frantically. Only then did she realize there were things in the shed that most likely had not been left behind when the shed was abandoned. The door flew open and the men were surprised to see Carrie. She tried to tale advantage of this surprise by running away, but the two men recovered quickly and grabbed her. A bandana faded from much use was stuffed into her mouth and held in place by a rag. Her wrists were securely tied behind her back, and she was lifted up and carried to the rubber boat.
Inside the boat, there was a canvas cover. Carrie was laid face down in the boat and her ankles were bound. The canvas was thrown over her head and the outboard started. Although unable to see, Carrie had a good idea about where she was going. Out to that boat, most likely.
Bahama Drama
Chapter Three
Bahama Drama
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