Kerry’s brow creased in thought. “It was pretty dim in there. I don’t think I would have,” she told her partner apologetically.
“Besides, we were too busy trying to get underneath those…those…
What were those metal things we found the eel behind anyway, Dar?”
Upside down and tilted sideways, the wreckage hadn’t been that intelligible to Dar either. Her mind drew a picture of the huge pile of twisted metal that she’d edged behind. She remembered 284 Melissa Good reaching out to try and move it, and her hands had closed around something roundish, and relatively smooth… “Cages.” The word came out of Dar’s mouth unexpectedly. “They were cages, with bars.”
Bob and Kerry both stared at her. “Cages?” Kerry repeated thoughtfully. “Wait… Yeah, they were. One of the doors was open and I was lying on top of it.” She nodded. “The hinge was poking me in the ribs.” Her voice rose in excitement. “You’re right, Dar!”
“Cages?” Bob looked extremely puzzled. “For what? People?”
Dar slowly shook her head. “No. Too small.” Her brow contracted. “Must have been for animals. They were spread out all over the hold, just in pieces everywhere.”
Now Kerry looked slightly confused. “I don’t get it. Why would he be trying to get animals into the islands? Or…” Her eyes widened. “No, he was trying to take them from here, wasn’t he!”
Dar nodded slowly, feeling a mixed sense of elation and disgust. “They’re a commodity,” she told Kerry bluntly. “In some places, the black market for them is huge.”
“Like for zoos?” Bob asked. “I thought they could pretty much breed their own.”
“No.” The tall, dark-haired woman exhaled. “Well, yes, there are some places that’ll pay for exhibit animals, sure, but mostly the market is for…ah…”
“Parts,” Kerry murmured. “Skin, fur…”
“Even more for traditional folk medicine,” Dar confirmed quietly. “It’s big money. Alastair did an analysis of emerging markets two years ago, and I think even he was shocked. One of our far eastern offices was contacted to provide database services and processing for a company that acts as a clearing house for the legal stuff.”
Kerry stared at Dar.
“He rejected the contract.” Dar gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “He told me his mother would spank him raw if she ever heard he’d helped poachers.” She pulled the wood over and studied it. “Okay, now we’ve got something to go on. Ker, do a search on these letters, only hit veterinary databases instead of marine.”
“Right you are, boss.” Kerry assumed the laptop and commenced typing. “They’re gonna faint at the cell bill this month,” she commented. “You’ll get another set of tickets to the Super Bowl from Bell South. Maybe this year we can go.”
Dar turned the wood over in her fingers, examining it carefully.
It seemed likely it was from a supply crate. She could see the faint indentations where metal strapping might have held it in place.
“So I guess he wasn’t really nuts, huh?” Bob said suddenly.
“Crazy like a fox,” Dar murmured, tipping the wood to the light.
Terrors of the High Seas 285
“Holy Jesus. That means we’ve won. I’ve gotta call Tanya.” He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “We really did it.”
“We?” Kerry said under her breath. “Not so fast. We haven’t proven anything. All we’ve got is a reasonable theory,” she added in a more audible tone. “Oh. Dar, look.” Kerry pointed at the screen, which showed a list of responses to her request.
“Carter International.” Dar exhaled. “Zoological supplies.
What’s the odds?” She tapped the wood on her knee. “All right. It’s a theory. We’ve got the M16, this bit of wood, our memories of the hold full of cages, and a fishing boat without any fishing gear on it.” “And the cigar box,” Kerry reminded her. “Not that it’s relevant, or even able to be opened.” She pushed the laptop aside and got up, heading for the gear room. The boat rolled and she put her hand on the wall for balance, then continued.
Charlie’s voice crackled through the radio. “Hey, Dar?”
Dar set the wood down and headed over to the console. She keyed the mic and answered. “Yeah? What’s up? I think we’ve got something here, Charlie.”
“Waal, I think we’ve got something here. You might want to come up a minute,” Charlie said. “We might have company.”
Crap. Dar leaned her head against the doorjamb. “Okay. I’ll be right up,” she answered, tossing the mic down in a mild fit of frustration. “Damn it! Can’t anything ever go like it’s supposed to?”
“What’s that?” Kerry returned, carrying her box. “What’s going on?”
Dar turned and faced her. “Charlie thinks someone’s following us. I’m gonna go check it out.” She waited while Kerry continued walking towards her, tilting her head as her partner ended up at her side. “Maybe it’s just someone out late doing some night fishing.”
“Maybe cats put on jackets and do the tango.” Kerry set the box down on the console and dusted off her hands. “I’ll go with you.”
“Me too,” Bob agreed.
Dar sighed. She picked up the box and examined it. “This’ll take time to pry open, Ker. It’s completely encrusted.” She glanced at Bob, who was peering curiously over her shoulder.
“It’s just an old cigar box,” he said, sounding disappointed.
Dar put the box down. “Yeah.” She opened the door, jerking a little as a gust of fitful wind puffed against her and blew her hair back off her forehead. “Time for that later.” She edged outside, shading her eyes against the boat’s running lights and spotting the whitecaps riffling around them. “Damn.”
“Got nasty fast,” Kerry observed. “Is it that storm system?”
Dar pulled herself along the cabinet over to the ladder. “I don’t 286 Melissa Good think it was moving that fast. Maybe this is just a thunderstorm.”
She reached up and caught an upper rung, and started her upward climb. The pitching of the boat threw her slightly from side to side, but she got to the top and caught her balance. “Charlie.”
The big ex-sailor turned from his seat at the controls.
“Weather’s up,” he said. “Looks like a squall.”
“No kidding.” Dar grabbed the edge of the bridge railing and got behind the wheel. She felt Kerry thump against the back of her seat, and then the pressure of a hand on the back of her neck.
“Where’s the signal?”
“Here.” Charlie pointed to the radar. Amid the clutter of the storm, a small, pulsing green blip emerged some distance away from them. “Could just be a false. Not getting much closer in the last bit.”
“Not with our luck.” Dar studied the dot. It didn’t seem to be moving quickly, just meandering after them, keeping about an even distance from the Dixie. “You think it’s DeSalliers?”
Charlie shook his head. “Too little.”
“Pirates?” Kerry suggested
“Not in this weather. They ain’t that stupid.”
Kerry leaned in next to Dar. “Maybe they changed their minds about helping you out.”
Charlie snorted. “Anyhoo, we got three more hours of this before we get to the meet point. Weather’s getting worse. You want to pull in somewhere ’til it clears a little?”
Dar lifted her eyes and peered off into the darkness. The wind whipped her hair back, and a crack of far off lightning illuminated a bank of heavy clouds ahead of them. “You think it’ll clear?”
The big man shrugged. “Depends. Might just be a squall,” he said.
“Or an outer band,” Dar replied dryly. “How far are we from the spot?”