I was a virgin and Tom said he was too, but I didn’t believe it. I was right. He knew exactly what to do. He locked the door, turned on the radio, and lit a candle. What happened that incredible night I’ve never experienced again.
Sometime in the night, a knock on the door and his mother’s voice woke us. I hid in the closet while she asked him questions — did he have a nice time, would he ask me out again, did he remember to take the rubbish to the curb. After she left, he kissed me one last time and I crawled out his bedroom window.
I floated across the street until I heard Pop’s angry words through our front door. I slipped inside and saw Mum lift her arms to protect herself. Pop swung his fist, but Mum ducked. Not making the expected connection, he spun with the momentum and lost his balance. When he crashed to the floor, I grabbed Mum. We raced down the hallway, Pop’s threats not far behind. I had just pushed Mum through her bedroom door and heard the lock click when Pop spun me around. I was focused on that crazed look in his eye. I didn’t notice Shinju holding our grandfather’s oyster knife, sharp as broken glass.
Over ten years have passed since that night, and that knife’s long gone. But every once in a while, when I look in the mirror, I still feel its razor sting.
The next morning anxious thoughts woke me. Tom believed Shinju was into something over her head. The previous night’s partially garbled conversation coiled itself around my stomach and pulled tight. A nutcase was loose on the island, and now his sights were set on me. But then I reminded myself that the reason I left Broome was to find Shinju’s killer. Hiding in a storage closet wasn’t going to solve this mystery.
Rummaging through my shore bag, I found my dive knife and strapped it above my knee. Then I stuck my head into the hallway. Lab techs scurried in and out of TIER, but I didn’t see Crowe. I rechecked the sheath buckle, then quietly shut the door behind me.
I snuck out of the building and ran to the makeshift showers. While fresh water rinsed the scaly salt from my body, I wondered what to do next. I hated acting like a hunted animal, but I wasn’t sure who I could trust. Crowe wanted me dead. Who else was my enemy?
I toweled off using the sarong I wore, then rewrapped myself in it. Sticking around a crowd seemed a good idea, so I walked to the small, open-air dining hall, where some of the crew sat on benches taking a coffee break. I saw Cody, my longtime diving buddy, and squeezed in next to him. He apologized several times for not watching me more carefully during the dive, but I couldn’t tell him I now knew my broken hose had been no accident. I sipped my tea, wondering who I could confide in.
Freshly shaven, Captain Lafroy entered, ordered a cup of coffee, and was about to have a seat next to the first mate when he saw me. I waved him over.
He gave me a big smile. “How you feeling?” He tugged my hair.
I swatted his hand away playfully. “Did Tom tell you I almost got my oyster quota? Didn’t drop a one on the way up.”
Captain Lafroy laughed, his crooked smile turned upward in delight. “What’s really important is you’re alive.”
I looked at him carefully. The paunchy middle, the sun-damaged skin, the graying at the temples. This is what his son would look like in another thirty years. But there was one big difference: Captain Lafroy was a man I could trust.
The hall had cleared out some; even my dive buddy had taken off. I wondered if Captain Lafroy would believe me. Crowe wasn’t a favorite among the ships’ crews. He tossed out what he claimed to be questionable, sickly oysters, which decreased divers’ counts. And more importantly, paychecks.
“I need to talk to you. Right away,” I said.
Just then Crowe sauntered into the room. He saluted the captain with a tweak of his hair, but when he saw me, he stopped short. His eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened into a thin line. He walked to the counter, ordered, then turned back to stare at me while he waited for his food.
Captain Lafroy looked at his watch. “Sorry, no time. The Adelaide suffered some damage from the storm.”
I leaned in closer. “It’s about Crowe.”
The captain laughed again, but this time more heartily. “Do you think he’s fudging your oyster count numbers? Look, he’s a stickler for keeping the harvest healthy. Cut him some slack.” He glanced at Crowe, who was still glowering, then back to me. “Wait a second. What’s going on here?”
“I need your help,” I whispered. “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”
He sighed. “All right, I’ll give you a wee bit of time. How about Sunset Point in thirty minutes?”
I thanked him and left. As I walked back to my room, Crowe and the oyster counts preyed on my mind. If Crowe was stealing pearls, how was he doing it? I needed evidence to convince the captain. The only way to find out was to sneak into TIER.
Once in the building, I tried the lab door. It was locked. I heard no voices inside, only the gurgling of the water tanks. A blast of cold air hit me and I looked up at the overhead vent. I hurried to my little storage room and turned the bolt. I climbed the shelves, unscrewed the vent cover, and hoisted myself up. The ventilation shaft was a tight fit. Luckily my destination was close by.
After checking to make sure I had no company, I dropped through the vent opening and onto a lab table. A photo of Crowe with the BSSP president sat on the largest desk in the room. On Crowe’s computer screen, the Adelaide’s latest haul was entered on a spreadsheet. I minimized the document, watching it shrink to the bottom of the screen. I found the file from the Indian Princess, the ship connected with the pearl found in Shinju’s throat, and couldn’t make sense of it. I needed more time, but knew my luck was ticking away. A jpeg file entitled Simms saved on the desktop caught my eye. I’d worked with a diver named Simms once. I clicked on the file and felt my jaw drop as soon as the photo popped open on the screen. I knew that hand as well as I knew my own. In her palm, Shinju held the pearl that had killed her.
My mind was in a fog as I clambered my way through the vent back to my room. Tom was right about one thing. Shinju was in way over her head. Even so, she didn’t deserve to die. I needed Captain Lafroy’s help.
The sandy path to Sunset Point ended at a rock outcropping that rose high above the crystalline blue water. The tide was in, covering the craggy formations below. I leaned over, judging the height to be about twenty feet. Shadowy box jellyfish dotted the surface. I sat on a wet rock and turned my face to the sun clambering to get out from behind a cloud. I had just closed my eyes when I heard the rustling of scrub brush. I turned and shaded my eyes from the glare. Because his lip was hiked up in its familiar crooked grin, my first thought was that I was looking at Tom Lafroy, Jr. What was he doing at Sunset Point?
“Your sister loved this spot too. Pity to stain its natural beauty a second time.”
I readjusted my brain. The captain was speaking, not Tom, but his words made no sense.
“A free ascent,” he said, nodding his head. “Quick thinking. Thought you’d panic, lass. Well, I can still make this work.” He tugged on a pair of heavy rubber gloves, the kind oyster scrubbers use to scrape off algae and bacteria.
I tried to speak but couldn’t.
“You didn’t wait long enough after the scuba accident, Kashiko. You passed out from nitrogen poisoning. You fell, hitting your head against the rocks. A tragedy.”
“Wait,” I croaked. “First tell me what happened to Shinju.”
He shook his head. “She was a pretty little thing when she was young. The first time I saw you and your sister was the day I decided to buy the house across the street from your family. I made up my mind then and there I’d have you both. Just once was all I wanted. There were a few other young girls in the neighborhood as well. That was a lucky chance. I got Shinju, but I guess she figured she’d save you by ruining your looks. She was right about that. Those stitches, that hideous scar turned my stomach.”