The Secret of Skeleton Reef (5 page)

“I will,” Joe said. He walked to the stern, his fins slapping on the deck. Putting in his mouthpiece, he sucked a breath of compressed air. Feels right, he thought as he pushed a button to activate his diver's watch. Then Joe leaped off the stern ledge, his legs spread for distance, and hit the water with a forceful splash.

As the weight of his belt pulled him downward, Joe glanced at the underwater world around him. The water was as clear as glass. Joe glimpsed the bright colors of coral at some distance below and nearby saw the white hull of the
Destiny
.

Keep breathing, Joe reminded himself.

Under the rear of the hull, he saw a flurry of sand drifting upward, which he knew was caused by the mailboxes. As he drifted farther down, Joe could vaguely make out three of the
Destiny's
divers working near the sea floor.

I'll check them out later, Joe thought. First, a brief survey of the reef. He turned himself horizontal and, using a flutter kick, propelled his body toward the corals on the floor.

Joe knew coral reefs were areas where large shelves of coral grew not far from the water's surface. Because the coral was as hard as a rock and as sharp as a stiletto, it could be quite dangerous to ships—and divers.

Soon Joe was on top of Skeleton Reef. Up close the coral was spectacular. It blossomed out of the sea floor and spread branches like a never-ending tree. The colors were fluorescent—green, pink, orange, and yellow. As he swam, he was careful not to scrape against the coral.

Joe glimpsed a school of fish swimming through the coral branches. There were hundreds of them, colored an almost transparent purple. With all the colors wavering in the water, he felt as if he were looking inside a gigantic kaleidoscope.

Then Joe glimpsed a much larger fish swimming toward the coral. No, Joe realized, it seems to be swimming toward me! He drew a sharp breath from his mouthpiece.

Joe knew a shark when he saw one.

Joe's first impulse was to swim away as fast as possible, but he knew that would be the wrong thing to do. If it wanted to, the shark could catch him easily. And furthermore, the movement would only entice the shark. Joe knew the best thing to do was remain calm and stay still. He inhaled a shot of compressed air, reminding himself to continue breathing.

The shark glided closer, moving effortlessly through the crystalline water. The creature was long, sleek, and bluish gray. There was an angled fin on each side of the shark's body and another angled fin on top of the back. Joe knew the fins helped keep the shark buoyant in a manner similar to the wings of an airplane.

Joe also knew sharks were not nearly as dangerous as their reputation—at least not to humans. The fact was, sharks usually had little interest in human flesh.

As the shark glided closer, Joe noticed the yellowish eyes set far back in the head. Then he glimpsed dozens of razor-sharp teeth set inside the shark's enormous mouth.

Keep breathing! Joe told himself.

The shark began swimming in a slow circle around Joe, obviously studying him. Joe knew the shark was probably relying on vibrations rather than sight to sense what sort of a creature he was. However it did it, the shark soon decided he was not a tempting enough snack and began swimming away.

As Joe let out a breath of relief, he saw a parade of tiny bubbles float up from his mouthpiece. Never underestimate how perilous the sea can be, Joe told himself. Even the gorgeous corals of the reef around him were potentially deadly.

This reminded Joe to check his watch. Seven minutes had elapsed on his dive. Okay, he thought, I should pay a visit to the
Destiny
divers. Who knows? I might even pick up some sort of clue I wouldn't have discovered on deck.

Joe propelled himself toward the spot where he knew the divers were working. It was some distance away from the coral and deeper down. Below him,
Joe saw Ziggy swimming here and there, running his hand along the sea floor.

Soon Joe was swimming through clouds of swirling sand. Looking down, he saw two craters, each about four feet deep, which had been created in the sea floor by the mailbox blasts.

Through the sandy water, Joe saw Dirk and Wilson digging inside one of the craters with gardening spades. The divers had knives strapped to their legs and net bags attached to their wrists.

After hovering above the crater a few minutes, Joe saw Dirk pull an object out of the sand. While Dirk and Wilson examined the object with great interest, Joe swam closer for a better look. Though the object was partially covered with encrustation, he could see it was a leather shoe. Almost three hundred years ago, the shoe had been on the foot of a pirate!

As Dirk placed the shoe in his net bag, Joe turned around to get a look inside the other crater. The red-haired young woman named Peg was working alone in it. Through the swirling sand, Joe saw her chipping at the crater wall with her spade. Working with a great deal of determination, she seemed to know something was there. With each chip, more sand drifted upward.

A host of tiny objects began floating up in the midst of the sand. Joe felt his heartbeat increase when he saw what the objects were—dozens of
glittering gold coins. The coins glinted as they caught the sunlight filtering down from the surface. It was a magical sight.

Joe continued hovering above the crater, but Peg was too busy to notice him. She began grabbing at the coins and placing some of them in her bag. When the other coins settled, she began scooping them off the bottom of the crater.

Next Joe saw something very interesting. Peg partly unzipped the top of her wet suit, placed several handfuls of coins inside it, then rezipped.

Peg did some more chipping at the crater wall, then pulled out a number of encrusted objects. Some of the objects went in her bag, but a few of the smaller ones went into her wet suit.

Finally Peg checked her watch. Then she pushed out of the crater and began swimming upward. Joe quickly swam away. From a distance he watched Peg kick her way up through the sandy water for a moment. Glancing at his diver's watch, Joe saw he had been down twenty-two minutes. Time to go. He followed Peg upward.

Joe broke through the surface of the water and saw Peg climbing the ladder on the side of the
Destiny
. Joe swam to the boat, climbed the ladder, and stepped onto the boat himself.

As Joe pulled off his mask and spit out his mouthpiece, Peg set her net bag on the deck. Teisenbach was there, already going through the items brought up by Dirk and Wilson.

“How was it?” Frank asked, approaching Joe.

“See that redhead?”

“You mean Peg,” Frank said, looking at her.

“I saw her hide some coins and artifacts inside her wet suit,” Joe said. “She's not handing them over to the archaeologist, either. I think she's planning to steal them. I'm wondering if this might have something to do with the Chrissy situation. As you know, where there's one crime, there's often another.”

As Peg moved away from Teisenbach, Frank and Joe both watched her. She removed all her diving gear but kept on the top of her wet suit. Next she moved to the bow and picked up a duffel bag. Then she carried the duffel bag down the steps leading into the cabin.

“I'm going to follow her,” Frank told Joe.

Frank waited a moment before walking toward the cabin area. When he stepped through the door, he found himself in a closed-in corridor. A door to the right was marked Rest Room, a door to the left was marked Storage, and beyond the corridor were two rooms.

Hearing running water in the rest room, Frank realized Peg was inside. Frank waited by the door.

• • •

After returning his diving gear, Joe spotted Montclare sitting near the bow. He was reading a paperback book, obviously uninterested in the seafaring activity around him. Joe considered Montclare
to be near the top of the suspect list. He'd been the last to see Chrissy, and he'd made light of mangling Frank's leg, as well.

“Hi,” Joe said, approaching Montclare.

“
Bonjour
,” Montclare said, only briefly glancing up from his book. A bottle of sunscreen lay beside him.

“Do you normally spend time on salvaging ships?” Joe asked.

“No,” Montclare said, eyes on his book.

“I see,” Joe replied. “Have you, uh, ever financed an expedition like this before?”

“No,” Montclare said into the book again.

“What's your normal line of work?” Joe asked.

“Bananas,” Montclare muttered.

“Ah, bananas,” Joe said, crouching down. “I've never met anyone in the banana business before. I like bananas, though. I'm especially fond of banana splits. Have you ever had one of those? It's a combination of ice cream, sliced bananas, and—”

“Listen,” Montclare said, slamming down his book. “I don't know why you are on this boat, but I don't want you coming back. You and your brother are not covered by my insurance plan. If you were to be seriously injured, you could sue me. Furthermore, I don't like to be interrogated like I am some sort of criminal! Do you understand? Good.
Adieu
.” Montclare picked up his book and resumed reading.

“
Adieu
to you, too,” Joe muttered and walked away.

• • •

Below deck, Frank was still waiting outside the rest room.

Finally Peg came out. “Oh, hello,” she said in surprise. “I'm sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“It's okay,” Frank said with a friendly smile. “I just got here. I'm Frank Hardy, by the way.”

Good to meet you,” Peg said, shaking Frank's hand. “My name is Peg Riley.”

Frank guessed she was in her twenties. Her freckled face was attractive, but she also had an air of toughness. Her eyes were an intense shade of green, and she spoke with a strange yet appealing accent.

“Where are you from, Peg?” Frank asked.

“Ireland,” Peg answered.

“Wow,” Frank said, leaning against the wall. “How did you wind up in the Caribbean?”

“Well, like most of the folks in the treasure-hunting business,” Peg said in her lilting accent, “I guess I'm a bit of a drifter. None of us is the type to stay in one place and hold down a regular job. You might call us restless spirits.”

“Maybe that's what happened to that woman who didn't show up today,” Frank said, as if just making conversation. “What was her name?”

“You mean Chrissy?” Peg asked.

“Yes,” Frank said. “Maybe Chrissy just felt the need to drift to somewhere else.”

“Perhaps,” Peg replied. “But she didn't take any of her things with her.”

“How do you know?” Frank asked.

“The two of us share a little bungalow near Soufrière,” Peg explained. “Actually it's more like a shack. Aside from being drifters, most of us are also as poor as church mice.”

“As long as you're not rats,” Frank said with a laugh. Peg smiled tightly, obviously not amused by the joke.

“Are you worried about Chrissy?” Frank asked.

“A bit,” Peg said. “But aside from being drifters, most of us are pretty savvy, too. I imagine Chrissy can take care of herself.”

“And it's not like anyone was out to get her, is it?” Frank said in a casual manner.

“What are you, a detective?” Peg asked, her green eyes piercing Frank.

“No, just a curious kid,” Frank said, shrugging.

Peg seemed to believe him. “No one would be out to get Chrissy,” she told Frank. “She's a nice girl from the States. Shy even. Most of us have made some friends on the island, but Chrissy kept mostly to herself. And now, Frank, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do upstairs. A pleasure to meet you.”

Peg gave Frank a nod, then left the cabin. If she's a liar, he thought, she's a fairly good one.

Frank decided to stay in the cabin area and look
around. He poked his head inside one of the rooms. It was a galley containing a refrigerator, stove, pantry, and cooking supplies. He stepped into the other room, which contained two narrow beds and a desk. Some clothes were lying on the floor, and he figured they belonged to Isaac and Ishmael, the cousins who guarded the dive site.

Frank glanced at some papers on the desk. One of the sheets listed the names, current addresses, and phone numbers of the
Destiny
crew. The paper also contained information on everybody's next-of-kin, which he realized was necessary in case anybody was seriously hurt or killed during work. After some rummaging, Frank found another copy of the list. He folded it and put it in the back pocket of his cutoffs.

While looking at a large map of the reef area, he became aware of another person's presence. Frank spun around and saw Isaac watching him from the doorway.

“Hello, mon,” Isaac said in a deep voice.

“Hi,” Frank replied. “I was just, uh . . . just having a little look around.”

Isaac walked over to a corner of the room and picked up a rifle Frank hadn't seen. Opening a drawer in the desk, Isaac pulled out a box of bullets. He loaded several bullets into the rifle chamber.

“Just having a look around?” Isaac said as he closed the chamber with a loud click.

“That's right,” Frank said, wondering what the gun was for. “It's an awfully nice boat you folks have here.”

Isaac lifted the rifle to eye level and aimed it at Frank.

Frank swallowed. Was this his last precious moment on earth?

“What's the matter?” Isaac asked, keeping the rifle in Frank's face. “Am I scaring you?”

“As a matter of fact, you are,” Frank answered as calmly as possible. “If you're planning to shoot me, perhaps you could give me some indication why.”

A smile spread across Isaac's face. “Aw, I'm just having some fun with you, mon,” Isaac said, lowering the rifle. “This rifle isn't for you. It's for somebody else.”