Asylum Harbor Page 12

  He wasn’t a guy she’d typically be attracted to, but something about him just felt right. She tried to think of the things that made him so different from her ex-husband and all the other men she’d dated. For one, she thought, he’s a good listener, which moved him quickly up to the top of her list. Plus, he was a good-looking man, and beneath that tough exterior, she was sure he was a teddy bear. And she couldn’t deny that the attraction was mutual. When he touched her, she felt the sizzle that romance novels always described but she’d so easily dismissed.

  Like a schoolgirl, she fantasized about what it would be like to kiss him. She wondered if his kiss would be tender and soft, or hungry and passionate. Probably passionate, she thought, as she made her way back to the shore. She could feel the burn in her arms and legs as she jumped off the board and let the cool waters wash over her. She lugged her board onto the sand and prepared to head back to the hotel. She was just minutes away from—

  “Hey, Rach.” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

  She was surprised to see Mike standing on the sidewalk. He was dressed in running shorts and a tank top. His muscles glistened with sweat.

  “Hi. What are you up to?” Rachel felt herself blushing.

  “Just finishing my run. What about you?” He looked over at her board.

  “Paddleboarding,” Rachel said. “My Rx for stress relief.”

  “I bet. I’ve seen those around the beach. I need to try that sometime.”

  “I’ve got a board at home. The concierge set me up with this one to use. You’ll have to go with me next time.” Rachel dipped her head to the side and took a handful of hair, twisting it around in her hand, wringing out the excess water.

  Mike seemed to consider her offer. “Maybe I will. Do you go every morning?”

  “I try. It’s been a little hectic lately.”

  “Right.” Mike swiped his forehead with a hand towel. “Any news on the photo?”

  Rachel still couldn’t shake that someone was messing with her, but a part of her wanted to believe that it was real. Mallory was alive and someone had her. The photo looked like the real deal.

  “Nothing yet. Drake sent it into his lab, but we haven’t heard anything.”

  “Let me know if I can help in any way.” Mike smiled at her. “I need to get back to the room and shower. Get ready for our meeting this morning.”

  “Me too.” Rachel picked up her board.

  “Need help with that?”

  She expertly hoisted the board on top of her head to distribute the weight. “Thanks, I got it. See ya in a few.”

  Rachel could feel Mike’s eyes on her as she walked across the street to the hotel.

  She left the board with the front desk and headed up to take a shower. She was eager to see what Drake had in store for them at the meeting.

  CHAPTER 37

  “We’re leaving in a few minutes to head over to Cabana Cay.” Rachel held her cell phone in one hand while searching for her purse with the other. “If you could ask Red to call his friend Vance Pearson who runs a charter here in the Bahamas…We may need to use his boat if something turns up.”

  Rachel gave her final instructions to Janine before she left to meet up with Drake and Phipps. She’d been crushed at this morning’s meeting to find out that they’d be escorted by the Royal Bahamas Police Force and that a cruise line representative would give them a guided tour. So much for a full, unencumbered search of the island. She wasn’t even allowed to bring her search team. With Drake and his team running the show, she didn’t have much choice in the matter.

  She ended her conversation with Janine and gathered the rest of her stuff. According to Drake, this would just be a look-see operation, although she knew that he had agents ready to go if they found something of interest. So she had a backup plan of her own as well. Her team would be on standby, waiting for further instructions.

  Rachel met Drake and Phipps in the lobby and they drove to the boat dock, where a representative of the Royal Bahamas Police Force would meet them for the trip to Cabana Cay. This was supposed to be a surprise visit, but somehow Rachel thought it would be anything but that.

  The marina was busy with boats coming and going. Charter fishermen hauled tourists out for a day of deep-sea fishing, private yachts headed out for leisurely cruises, and colorful sailboats ready for a fun day skimmed the coastline. Drake spotted the slip where a thirty-two-foot cabin cruiser waited for them.

  “Hi, I’m Quinn Miller with Special Ops. Assistant Commissioner Johnson asked me to give you folks a lift to Cabana Cay.” He waved them onto the boat. “Welcome aboard.”

  Drake stepped on board first and helped Rachel. After everyone was settled on the deck, the captain moved them out into rather calm waters.

  “Did you contact the folks at Cabana Cay to let them know we were coming?” Drake asked Quinn.

  He nodded. “Assistant Commissioner Johnson arranged for us to take a tour of the island and meet with the manager.”

  “How long will the trip take?” Rachel asked.

  “About thirty-five minutes or so.” Quinn leaned back into his chair as he answered. He was slim and dressed in uniform blues. His dark skin contrasted with the white boat.

  Everyone was quiet with his or her thoughts as they approached Cabana Cay. It was just as Matt had described. From afar, the island looked very tranquil. Beautiful sugary beaches with shallow turquoise waters. Hammocks strung up between palm trees, gently swaying with the breeze. A lone man in the distance raked the sand to smooth away the footprints the previous cruise passengers had left. Amber’s footprints should have littered that beach, Rachel thought. She should have been having fun with her friends, playing volleyball and dancing under the palm trees.

  The captain radioed the island manager to let them know of their arrival. Rachel would have preferred to come unannounced, but nothing could be done about that now.

  As they disembarked, they were met by a gentleman dressed in a SeaScape uniform—white pressed shorts and a navy-blue shirt with the company logo on the right breast pocket. His accent confirmed that he was a native of the Bahamian islands.

  “Welcome to Cabana Cay,” he greeted them warmly. “I’m Joe Vermillion, the island manager.”

  Quinn stepped forward and shook his hand. “Sorry for any inconvenience. As Assistant Commissioner Johnson told you, we’re still searching for the missing teenager from the SeaStar cruise liner. Miss Amber Knowles.”

  The man nodded his head but didn’t speak.

  Quinn continued, “In light of some new witness statements, we thought it was prudent to search the island.”

  “I spoke to Mr. Morrotti, owner of the SeaStar, and he instructed me to tell you that you have our full cooperation,” Joe replied.

  “Very well, then,” Quinn said. “These are Special Agents Drake Reynolds and Lee Phipps with the FBI. And Ms. Rachel Scott with Florida Omni Search.”

  “Nice to meet all of you.” Joe pointed toward the golf cart. “I’ll take you on a quick tour of the island first? Then you can ask any questions you feel necessary. Cabana Cay is a large island, so we’ll take the golf cart.”

  The golf cart had two seats up front and three rows of seats behind it, seating up to eight adults. Rachel sat up front with Joe and the guys sat behind her. He gave them a quick history of the island. Most of what he said they already knew from Stacy.

  “Mr. Morrotti bought this island in August of two thousand two from an eccentric billionaire. Morrotti wanted a private island excursion for his cruise line passengers to enjoy.”

  “How long have you been with the cruise line company?” Rachel asked him.

  “Since two thousand three. I came on board in the middle of the island renovations. Mr. Morrotti invested a lot of money to get the island ready. There wasn’t much here at the time. Just a couple of bungalows and a main residence. He fixed those up for employees, and then built the restaurant, bar, and dive shop for the guests.”

  “Does the sta
ff live here full time?” Drake asked.

  “We have eight people who live on the island.”

  “What do they do?”

  “I oversee the whole island. We also have a cook and maintenance and security personnel who stay here full time as well. The rest of the employees arrive on the island with the ship. The dive shop manager, bar staff, waitresses, and activity coordinator all come from the ship. Several employees pull double duty,” Joe explained. “Work on the ship and on the island.”

  The golf cart came to a rolling stop at a line of small bungalows.

  “These are the private cabanas that we rent out to passengers for five hundred dollars a day.” Joe got out of the cart and led them up the stairs to the cabana on the end. He unlocked the door and led the way inside. “As you can see, they have air-conditioning. Living area with sofa and small kitchenette. Compact fridge holds cold drinks. Private bath with shower—indoors and outdoors.”

  Rachel walked around the cabana. It was about three hundred square feet, with an ample outside deck. She could see it would be a nice refuge from the heat of the day.

  “These cabanas are kept locked during off days from the cruise lines?” Phipps asked.

  “Yes. We clean after guest departures and then do a quick run through before the next guests arrive. The only occupants are cruise passengers. Our staff accommodations are located on the other end of the island.”

  “Can we see those?” Drake asked.

  “Sure,” Joe answered without hesitation.

  They all climbed back on the golf cart and headed down the trail. Within a few minutes, they’d left behind the fun part of the island, and the trail became smaller, more overgrown, and less inhabited.

  “Not many people get to see the behind-the-scenes stuff,” Joe commented. They pulled up to a gate and he pressed a button on a remote-control device. “This area is off-limits to our guests. For safety and security reasons.”

  And to hide dead bodies, Rachel thought, but didn’t say aloud.

  The gate swung outward and Joe eased the cart through. Immediately, Rachel spotted a large warehouse off to the right.

  Joe followed her gaze. “That’s where maintenance keeps all their equipment, plus the other resort golf carts. The laundry facility and storage are there as well. We’ll see that on the way out.”

  After a few hundred feet, they rolled to a stop. “These are our employee quarters. Five bungalows, each with two bedrooms, a kitchenette, bathroom, and living area. My wife and I live in that one.” Joe pointed to one of the middle bungalows.

  “Your wife works on the island as well?” Rachel asked.

  “Yeah. She’s a former nurse and runs the first-aid station while the passengers are onshore. She also helps out at the gift shop. Everyone pitches in during arrival days.”

  Joe unlocked the door to his bungalow and let everyone in.

  Structurally, the bungalows were similar to the private cabanas, but larger to accommodate the needs of full-time employees. Joe’s place was well kept. His wife had added personal touches, including family photos and monogrammed pillows.

  “It’s not much. We have a house in Freeport as well. Of course, most of our time is spent here on the island.”

  Rachel felt that she was intruding in his personal space. She took a quick look around and walked back outside with Drake and Mike. Everything seemed normal. But there was that nagging feeling Rachel always got when something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was very quiet and eerie. Rachel felt a chill go down her spine.

  “Who lives in the main residence?” Rachel asked.

  “Mr. Morrotti uses it when he comes to visit.”

  “Which is how often?”

  Joe paused for a second. “Um…about twice a year. Sometimes other people from the corporate office stay there as well.”

  “Is it occupied now?”

  “Yes, it is. One of the regional directors is here.”

  “Can we take a look around?” Quinn asked.

  “Sure. I believe they’re out inspecting the island.”

  They followed him up the steps to the plantation-style house. Rachel admired the old home. It was a white two-story frame house with a wide front porch. Tropical foliage surrounded the yard. Joe pushed the screen door open and they followed him inside. Delicious smells came from the back of the home.

  “Judy is cooking lunch.” Joe sniffed the air. “Smells like her famous conch soup and corn muffins.”

  At the mention of her name, a lady wearing a red apron walked around the corner. She was petite with short, wavy salt-and-pepper hair. “Hello.”

  Joe made the introductions. “They’re looking for the missing American girl.”

  “Oh, I see.” Judy wore a puzzled expression. “Excuse me for asking, but I thought I saw on the news that she fell overboard. Why in the world are you looking for her here?”

  Rachel thought she caught an irritated look that Joe shot Judy.

  Quinn answered for them. “It hasn’t been determined what happened to her. We have to follow up on every lead.”

  “Certainly,” Judy answered, and then changed the subject. “Would you like some conch soup? There is plenty for everyone.”

  “Thank you, but we still have some ground to cover,” Quinn graciously declined.

  “It sure smells good, though.” Rachel’s stomach growled. She wouldn’t mind a taste of the island delicacy.

  Joe showed them around the rest of the downstairs and then headed out to the back of the house. He pointed out a small shed that he explained held more equipment—mostly lawn care.

  “Would you care to see anything else?”

  “I think we’re good here,” Quinn said. “We don’t want to disturb your guests.”

  “Very well. We’ll take the cart back to the warehouse. Then finish up at the restaurant. I’ll be happy to have the chef prepare you a sandwich and a cold drink for the ride back.”

  “That would be nice,” Rachel answered for all of them.

  A quick tour of the warehouse revealed what they expected. Laundrymen folded towels and the maintenance staff repaired equipment. The storage area contained items the staff needed to run this private island. Quinn seemed satisfied that everything was in order.

  “Do you have any questions Joe could answer?” Quinn asked.

  Drake looked around. “You mentioned you have several employees who stay here on the island. Other than Judy, do you have any young women who live here?”

  “Judy is the only woman who stays on the island full time. Our security and maintenance staff are all men.” If Joe thought the question was peculiar, he didn’t show it.

  “Do you run security cameras on the island?” Rachel asked.

  Joe nodded. “Only on Cabana Cay around the restaurant and bar area. You’ll have to talk to the head of security at SeaScape if you need more information.”

  “I think that does it. We appreciate your time,” Drake told him.

  Rachel felt differently. She thought that they’d only scratched the surface of the island. Remembering back to last night, when she’d looked at her maps, she knew the island was very large. It covered close to a thousand acres, and they still hadn’t explored most of the terrain—or truly searched most of the buildings. She itched to get her people out here with equipment and take a look around without Joe to “guide” them. That probably wasn’t going to happen, though.

  Their last stop was the island’s restaurant, Coco’s Two BBQ. The restaurant featured pulled-pork sandwiches, hot dogs, hamburgers, rotisserie chicken, and salads. It was served buffet style, just like on the ship. The chef also prepared light meals for the staff who lived there year-round.

  “This is Chef Tyree,” Joe said, introducing them. “He’ll fix a box lunch to take with you.”

  They all elected to try the pulled-pork BBQ sandwiches with chips and iced tea. Chef Tyree boxed the lunches up and put them in a large bag with plastic silverware.

  “Have a sa
fe trip back.” Chef Tyree handed them the lunch.

  “Can I answer any other questions for you?” Joe asked as he guided them back to the waiting boat.

  Drake shook his head. “We appreciate your time, Joe.”

  “I hope you all come back again. Next time as cruise guests?” Joe laughed.

  “Sure. Thanks again.” Drake led the group back onto the boat.

  Quinn took his lunch inside to eat with the captain. Drake, Phipps, and Rachel sat on the deck and ate in silence.

  Phipps was the first to speak. “I don’t know about you two, but something was a little off back there.”

  “I thought the same thing,” Rachel said, relieved that she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

  “I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary,” Drake commented.

  “That’s right—nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was just too…” Rachel trailed off in thought.

  “Too normal?” Phipps finished for her.

  “Yeah. Too normal,” Rachel answered. “I don’t know if it’s because they knew we were coming or the island is just plain creepy. I would love to go back with some of my guys and equipment. Take a look around without the guided tour.”

  “Not possible. We were lucky that Assistant Commissioner Johnson set this up so quickly,” Drake answered. “We’ll just have to start from square one.”

  The boat slowed down, making its way to the dock.

  Rachel pointed toward shore. “Wonder what’s going on there.” A few police cars and an ambulance were parked in the lot.

  CHAPTER 38

  Amber was never sure what time it was. Her room was kept dark most of the time. The nurse came in about every hour to check on her. She took her vital signs, although she seemed to know that Amber was feeling better and wasn’t sick anymore.

  She didn’t know what was going on. She couldn’t leave her room because the door was locked from the outside. But she wasn’t tied up or threatened, and nobody seemed worried that she might scream. After Mr. Morrotti’s visit, Amber thought that this was some kind of kidnapping plot. He wanted to get information about her involvement with Josh, but she’d repeatedly told him that she didn’t know him that well. She was just a passenger on his cruise line. None of his questions made sense to her. Maybe he just wanted to get money out of her family because her dad was governor.