Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (16 page)

“And it’s not that weird,” said Graeme. “Beautiful women marry odd men all the time. Have you seen Bill Gates’ wife?”
 

“He’s loaded,” I said.
 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Aaron had money,” said Lucia. “He’s a genius in the kitchen.”
 

“I’ll give you that. I’m going to see about those salts. Graeme, can you go get the Keflex?”
 

He headed to the room. I ordered an ice water for Lucia and rewrapped the wound. “I’ll put new bandages on after we soak it.” I bit my lip and glanced around. The beach was packed. Colin was awake and now pounding beers with Andrew and Joe. A bunch of cruise ship passengers were totally wasted and dancing in their Brazilian bikinis and nearly flattening small children if they wandered too close.
 
If it wasn’t Graeme and I wasn’t ready to concede that yet, it could be anybody. There were a lot of anybodies on that beach.

Lucia patted my hand. “You don’t have to stay here with me. Nothing will happen. Even if you’re right, I’m right out here in the open.”

“I just can’t leave you,” I said.
 

“You’re wonderful for caring, but I’m telling you it can’t be true. It just can’t. I have good luck, not bad. It’s kind of a family thing.”
 

It was the first time I’d heard a hint of her family connections. Fibonaccis were famous for their luck as well as other things. Lucia had been pretty lucky so far.

“Sometimes we have to make our own luck,” I said, still looking around.
 

Aunt Tenne and Bruno weren’t on the swings anymore. But Mom and Dixie were coming down the path to the beach carrying mimosas. “My mom’s coming. Please don’t tell her what I said.”

“Why not?” asked Lucia.
 

“No crimes or talk of crime allowed. We’re supposed to be having a girl trip.”
 

“You brought Aaron on a girl trip?”
 

“I don’t bring him anywhere. He just shows up. So you’ll keep mum about the whole suspicious accident thing?” I asked.
 

“I will, but I kind of want to see what would happen.”
 

Mom tells Dad. Dad finds out you’re a Fibonacci. Dad hits roof.
 

“Probably just a stern lecture, but I try to avoid those whenever possible. You know how family can be.”
 

She settled back on her lounge and tipped down the brim of her broad sunhat, so that I couldn’t see her eyes. “Yes, I certainly do.”
 

I left and intercepted Mom and Dixie while they were ordering lounge chairs to be brought down for them.
 

“Hey, Mom. Can you keep an eye on Lucia for a little bit?”
 

“Why? She’s not three.”
 

Cause someone’s trying to kill her a lot.

“Her leg is worse and I need to find her some Epsom salts. If she throws up, or does anything unusual, come get me immediately. I’ll be in the room.”

“Sure,” said Dixie. “We’d be happy to.”
 

Dixie did look happy, but Mom gave me the suspicious look she usually reserved for Dad. “Isn’t this unusual for such a minor wound?”
 

“I wouldn’t call it minor and stingrays are poisonous. Just watch her. Okay?” I rushed away down a back path before Mom could question me further. She wouldn’t have needed to question me, if she gave the situation a moment of thought. She knew everything that had happened to Lucia. She just needed to string the events together. If she did, I was toast. The last thing I wanted was Dad flying down to Roatan to take over between sessions of yelling at me.
 

Since I had no discernible sense of direction, I wandered around on those twisted, shady paths for a good ten minutes. Getting lost doesn’t usually work out for me. I tend to end up at the right place at the wrong time. The most notable incident was in tenth grade when I got lost under the gym trying to find the tennis equipment lockup and discovered my crush, Brennan Glock, kissing our english lit teacher who happened to be a dude. I still said yes two weeks later when Brennan asked me to Homecoming, because he was the only one who asked, being the only one who really didn’t care if I said no. I told him what I saw over dinner and we became a special kind of friends. It turned out that I was the only who knew he was gay (besides Mr. Heck), and it remained that way for another decade.
 

Most recently, I’d found a fellow nurse stuffing a patient’s Schedule II drugs in her panties. Don’t ask me why. She had pockets. On this unlucky day, I saw the Gmucas sneaking down the path behind the bungalows. Frankie whispered to Linda and they disappeared behind Lucia and Graeme’s. I crept through the foliage to the bungalow next door and peeked around the corner. Frankie was jiggling the back door handle.
 

Holy crap!

Linda whispered in Frankie’s ear and kissed his cheek. How touching. You just became suspects with a capital S.
 

I stepped out into the open. “Hi, guys. What’s ya doing?”
 

Frankie and Linda turned matching shades of red. “Um…Um…”

“Is that your bungalow?”
 

Linda looked at the door and feigned surprised. “Oh, my gosh. It isn’t. This is so embarrassing. Let’s go, Frankie.”
 

“We were just, you know, going back to our room,” said Frankie.
 

“Through the back door?” I asked.
 

“We…um.”
 

“Come on, Frankie.” Linda dragged her husband away before he could finish his sentence, which certainly didn’t make them look any better.
 

I watched them go into their bungalow three doors down and then got on the right path to the room. Before I came out of the palms I smelled the most amazing smell. Aaron. Not Aaron personally. He usually smelled like hot dogs or crab, but Aaron’s cooking. I was getting so that I could pick his style out of a lineup. Aaron was the only person I would ever know that could make the air succulent.
 

The water pail next to our steps was clean and fresh. I wrecked it and ran up the stairs to find Aaron squatting next to two hibachis. One had a small saucepan, bubbling with a light brown liquid. The other was covered in fruit, pineapples, mangos, peaches, and, oddly, watermelon. Opposite Aaron sat Todd the Land’s End dad on the deck chair, wearing a pink polo, ironed, and with a perfect tan.
 

“You hungry?” asked Aaron.
 

“I am now,” I said. “Hi, Todd.”
 

“Hello, Mercy.” Todd winced when he looked at me. I pictured my hair resembling something Lady Gaga would have, only worse. “Aaron offered to make breakfast and there’s no way I could resist. Tracy’s taking the kids snorkeling for the morning at Half Moon Bay. I hope you don’t mind.”
 

“Why would I mind?”
 

“You might’ve been hoping for a romantic breakfast, just the two of you.”
 

“Not you, too. Aaron and I aren’t a thing. He’s…he’s my dad’s best friend’s Dungeons and Dragon’s buddy.”
 

“And World of Warcraft,” said Aaron.
 

“That, too.”
 

“And Star Wars: Force Unleashed.”
 

“You’re not helping,” I said. “We’re not together. We’re really, really not together. Please tell people that.”
 

“But you’re on vacation together,” said Todd.
 

“It’s complicated.”
 

“We’re partners,” said Aaron.
 

“Really not helping. We’re sort of partners in work. We do research for my dad. It’s boring,” I said. “What’s for breakfast?”

Aaron lifted the edge of a pineapple. “Grilled fruit salad with honey lime syrup.”
 

“Smells great,” I said. “Do you happen to know where I can get some Epsom salts?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

I waited for a second, but nothing more seemed to be coming, so I asked, “And where would that be?”
 

“Julia’s.”
 

I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but they got stuck. “Aaron, you make me tired. Can you get them for me? Lucia needs to soak her wound.”
 

He mumbled something I took for a yes and I went in for a quick shower. It didn’t help much. I looked like I’d angered my hair permanently. When I came out swathed in towels and leave-in conditioner, Aaron was chopping fruit on top of our little apartment fridge in the corner. I watched him for a moment, peeling and chopping with precision. I’d never seen him in action before. I have to say it was impressive. It would’ve been even more impressive if he hadn’t had a foot wide ketchup stain on the seat of his shorts. How do you sit in that much ketchup and not notice it?
 

“Are you going to get the Epsom salts,” I said.
 

“Got ‘em,” he said, holding up a small wrinkled paperbag.
 

“Already?”
 

He shrugged and kept chopping.
 

“Thanks.” I took the bag out on the porch and found Todd engrossed in a paperback,
Catch-22.
I couldn’t ask him to take the salts. As benign as he seemed, he was still a suspect. I passed him by, ran down the steps, and found Marcella coming onto the path from the dive shop. “Can you do me a favor?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“Take these salts down to my mother on the beach. She’ll know what to do.”

“Any new suspects?”

“Not yet.”

 
Marcella took off for the beach and I went back to find Aaron still in my room, muttering over a mixing bowl.

“Aaron, I need a favor.”
Not sure how to ask this.
“Do you have Spidermonkey’s phone number?”
 

“Spidermonkey the hacker?”
 

“How many Spidermonkeys do you know?”
 

“Morty hates Spidermonkey.”

“I know, but I need information and I can’t ask Uncle Morty.”
 

“How come?”

“Cause he’ll tell Dad.”
 

“So.”
 

Because I’m trying to hide stuff, you nutbag.

“Because I can handle this Lucia thing on my own. I don’t need Dad calling me up and interfering. You know how he is.”
 

You should anyway. You’re on my girl trip.

“I’ll get him to call you. Don’t tell Tommy. Tommy’d be pissed, if he knew,” said Aaron.
 

“I will never tell Dad. Believe me.” I went in the bedroom, tried to find some clean clothes, but settled for my surviving one-piece and a rather crusty cover-up. It was kind of nice not worrying about shoes or clothes. If it weren’t for the hair, I might consider island living.
 

My phone rang and I answered without looking at the caller ID. Mistake. “Hello.”
 

“What the hell, Mercy,” said Chuck.
 

“Shit!”
 

“Weren’t expecting me, were you?”
 

“No. No. I just stubbed my toe. It’s fine,” I said.
 

“Yeah, right. You were expecting Spidermonkey.”
 

“Who?”
 

“He’s one of my informants. He hears something about you, he calls me first thing.”
 

“Why?”
 

“Because you’re family,” he said.
 

“That is not working out for me.” I waited while a burst of raucous laughter drowned out what Chuck was saying.
 

“Shut up, you pricks!” yelled Chuck.
 

“What’s that about?” I asked.
 

“You don’t want to know.”

“If it’s at your expense then I do.”

“I guess you’ll find out eventually. I arrested a woman this morning and she attacked me with a frozen bratwurst.”
 

I laughed until my stomach clenched in pain. “I so needed that!”
 

“Yeah, that’s great. So what are you doing that you have to hide it from Tommy?” asked Chuck.
 

“How many times did she hit you?”

“Mercy!”

“I’m not hiding anything from Dad,” I said, still chuckling.
 

“Do you want me to refer Spidermonkey to him?”
 

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” I asked.

“Not a chance, sweet cheeks.”
 

“Don’t call me that.”
 

“I’m trying out pet names. I think we should have pet names for each other.”
 

“Eww. No.”
 

“You know you want to tell me, love muffin,” said Chuck.
 

I hung up. I needed to wash out my ears. The phone rang again and I swear the ring was sleazy.
 

“What?” I said.
 

“Mercy,” said Chuck with all the sleaze gone. “Tell me what’s going on.”
 

“I can’t.”
 

Chuck paused and I pictured him sitting at his desk with his Timberlands propped up. The boots gave him an extra couple of inches in height, not that he needed it, but he liked the intimidation factor.
 

“I’ll just be going now,” I said.
 

“I won’t tell Tommy.”
 

“Yeah, right.”
 

Chuck was my dad’s protege and he’d never gone against him since the moment he invaded our family.
 

“I’m serious. I’d rather keep it from Tommy than have you out there on your own,” he said.

“I have Aaron.”

“So you’re digging the partner now?”
 

“Not exactly, but the food is good and he does have a tendency to keep me alive,” I said.
 

“You need information. I can provide that.”
 

Chuck was right. I couldn’t do the research on my own and Dad had a broad reach. Anyone else I called might be his source.