Artifact: A Daredevils Club Adventure Part 13

The telephone rang as she was leaving.

"Peta? Frik."

For one misguided moment, Peta thought Frik might have called to see how she was doing. He soon disillusioned her. Wasting no time on pleasantries, he told her that Terris McKendry had been severely injured in a battle to save one of Oilstar's tankers.

"He was shot and burned. He's in bad shape."

"Where is he?"

"He was medevac'd here, to Mount Hope Medical Center. Unless Arthur's plane is fueled and ready, I'll send my jet to get you and have a car waiting for you at this end."

My plane now, Peta thought, since the reading of his will.Because she was Arthur's student in his lifesaving burn techniques, it stood to reason that Frik would turn to her for help, Peta thought. Still, a "Would you mind coming?" might have been nice.

"Mount Hope's a good place," she said. "I'll call and let them know I'm on my way."

Pleased with herself for having made the arrangements she had with the loc.u.m, Peta called him in from his day off. She had left her Honda at the clinic, so getting home to pack a small bag would be no problem.

Nor would getting to the airport be a problem, even with a stop first at the closest Barclays Bank for some cash to see her through.

Standing in line at the bank, she fiddled with the pendant around her neck. When she reached the counter, on a whim, she took off the necklace, sealed it in an envelope, and asked to be escorted to her safe-deposit box.

Frik's jet beat her to the airport; his car was waiting for her upon her arrival at Piarco International. She was pleased to see Saaliim behind the wheel and not Frik. He got out and opened the back door.

"You're not my chauffeur, Saaliim. I'll sit in the front with you, if that's all right."

He grinned and she smiled back. She had always liked the Honduran, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

"Mr. McKendry in bad shape," he said when she was settled beside him.

"I a.s.sume Frik's with him."

Saaliim shook his head. "He with Mr. Brousseau out at Dragon's Mouth."

"Simon? He's not diving, is he?"

"Yes. As we speak."

"a.s.sholes," Peta muttered. Simon had no business diving in his condition, and Frik had less business encouraging him. She'd have a few things to say to the two of them later. Right now, her focus had to be Terris McKendry.

Twenty minutes later, Saaliim swerved off the Uriah Butler Highway and into Mount Hope Medical Center's parking lot. "You want me to come inside, Miss Peta? Or maybe wait outside?"

Peta thought for a moment. In all likelihood she'd be fully occupied with McKendry for the rest of the day and, by the sound of it, for several days beyond that.

"You go to come back," she said, using the Grenadian colloquialism. "I know my way around this hospital all too well. Tell Frik I'll call him later with a report."

The charge nurse, to whom she had spoken several times en route, ushered Peta into McKendry's private room in the hospital's small intensive-care section. The last time she'd seen him, not that long ago at Arthur's apartment, he'd looked fit and well. Now he looked as if he probably wouldn't make it through the night. He was barely conscious. According to his chart, he had presented in shock, a mess of mud and oil and blood. Her initial cursory examination confirmed that he had been hit by two rifle bullets and that he had sustained some surface burns.

The burns might leave some scarring but were not enough to be life-threatening. The bullet wounds were a more complex problem. Where a hollow point or frangible round would have pureed the contents of his chest cavity, he had every chance of surviving these wounds.The flesh wound along the right flank would heal, even without medical attention. The second shot was less simple: a full-metal-jacketed slug had made a through-and-through penetration of his lower right chest. Fortunately for McKendry, the bullet had not hit a major artery on the way through or a rib on the way out. The former would have exsanguinated him in minutes: the latter would have deflected the bullet, causing major, possibly catastrophic, collateral damage. The through-and-through FMJ chest wound had collapsed the lung, but some bright medic or ED doc along the way had inserted a chest tube and hooked it up to suction; that no doubt had saved McKendry's life until the local thoracic surgeon got to him and closed the entry and exit wounds.

Peta discovered further evidence of McKendry's dumb luck when she examined the exit wound and found it just low enough to miss ripping up his posterior shoulder girdle. An inch higher and he'd be looking at permanent disability. Talk about charmed lives.

Telling the nurse to set up a bed for her in one of the little rooms adjacent to intensive care, she washed up and put in a call to Frik.

"It'll be a while before his next escapade, but with good care and exquisite attention to antisepsis, he'll make it. His lung's not reinflating as quickly as I'd like, so I'm going to stay here with him for a few days."

Frik sounded relieved. "Thanks, Peta. I'll be in to see you later this evening. I can't leave the office right now."

"I heard about Simon. Is he all right?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"I warned you both that he shouldn't be diving, Frik."

"Well for your information, he's fine. He had to come up because he used up most of his tank clearing debris from his entry point. I wish I had half his energy. He's down in Port of Spain now, pretending to be some TV star, but he's going back to San Gabriel tomorrow to complete the dive."

"Alone? No dive buddy?"

"He seems to prefer it that way."

Idiot! Peta thought. She was fed up with all this macho bulls.h.i.+t. When she had stabilized McKendry, she would hitch a ride to San Gabriel. If Manny was in the area, he would take her there; if not, she'd use one of Frik's speedboats. Not that she particularly wanted to delay her return to Grenada, but in all good conscience she had to take one more shot at warning Simon that his heart probably couldn't take another dive. If she couldn't convince him to stop, she would insist on going along. Barring unforeseen setbacks, she should be able to leave McKendry in the hands of the hospital staff in three days, four tops. She would mention it to Frik when he came to see McKendry.

If he came to see him.

22.

Thus far, Frik had called several times, but he had not yet made an appearance. Peta was hardly impressed by his lack of compa.s.sion and admitted to herself yet one more time that the Oilstar chief was not among her favorite people.Two days later, by which time McKendry's condition had been stabilized, Frikkie showed up at the hospital. He was not a pretty sight. His one eye hadn't yet fully healed from the explosion that had killed Paul Trujold, and his hand looked as if it had a long way to go before it was good for more than gross manipulation. His visit was short, their conversation brief and more about Simon than Terris; in neither case were his emotions involved.

"Simon's in San Gabriel. He hasn't gone down-in the water-again yet. The weather's not been conducive. Too much rain, too many currents stirring things around."

"You shouldn't let him-"

"Let him? May I remind you again that he's an adult. What he chooses to do is his own business."

There was obviously no point in arguing with the man. None at all. "I'd like to see him," Peta said. "I think I'll head out to San Gabriel for a day or two. I could use the rest."

"What about McKendry?"

"Terris is a long way from full recovery, but he's doing well. Barring unforeseen complications, the hospital can manage fine without me. When they think he's ready, they'll send him on to rehab. He won't need me for that, either. If they have to reach me, they can call me in San Gabriel."

Something in Frik's expression told her that this was the last thing he wanted her to do. For whatever reason, Simon's dive was of enormous importance to him. Well, that's just too bad, she thought. It was not only a man who had to do what a man had to do.

Leaving Frik at McKendry's bedside, she went outside for a smoke. It was the last American cigarette she had brought from New York. From now on, it was back to the local 555s, which were milder and cheaper anyway. I'll give up again soon, she told herself, lighting up. After having given them up for three years, she had fallen into old habit the night Arthur was killed.

"Got another one?" Saaliim asked.

Peta jumped. "Didn't know you were here, and no, this is my last one."

She handed it to him and they shared it the way they would have shared a joint.

"I'd like to go to San Gabriel this afternoon." She waved away the end of the smoke. "Think you can take me there?"

He drew on the b.u.t.t, then crunched it underfoot. "I have to take Mr. Frik to the a.s.segai," he said. "After that we maybe go to the site. Mr. Frik say maybe Mr. Brousseau come dive today. Maybe not." He looked up at the sky. "Maybe later it storm."

"Could be." Eighty-four degrees. Humid. Sultry. Not a cloud to be seen. A tourist would have laughed, she thought. "Is Manny on island?"

"I think so."

"Good." Peta glanced at the Hummer beyond them in the physician's parking lot, unsurprised that Frik would feel it his right to park there. "I'll get my things and make arrangements with the charge nurse.

Don't leave without me."

When she was ready to leave the hospital, Saaliim was half asleep behind the wheel of the car. Frikpaced impatiently back and forth next to it.

"One more minute and we'd have been out of here," he said.

Peta didn't answer; in fact, she said little en route to Frikkie's dock, and only waved a pa.s.sing good-bye as Saaliim turned the Hummer around.

To her delight, the first person Peta saw at the dock was Manny Sheppard, inevitable Carib in hand. He was clearly happy to see her.

"Hey, beautiful. What's up?"

She hugged him. "You first, Manny. What's up with you? Which way you headed?"

"Which way you want me to head?"

"I need to get to San Gabriel."

He motioned toward his small steel-hulled freighter. "Come. I'll take you there. I got a load of supplies headed for Grenada. San Gabby's a quick stop on the way."

She had known Manny since childhood, as well as anyone could ever know him. He was the sort of person with whom you could never quite tell what was real and what he was making up on the spot.

He'd been running boats up and down the Caribbean since he left the OECS Security Forces. What was in the boats he sailed around was always an open question, though no customs officials had ever found any evidence to back up their suspicions.

"So what you want in San Gabby?"

"I'm looking for Simon Brousseau." She felt a sudden stab of anxiety. "He hasn't gone diving today, has he?"

"Not so far as I know. Simon be probably resting up in San Gabriel, making the lovely ladies happy," he said.

Peta had no idea how many lovely ladies might be hiding in the small fis.h.i.+ng village close to the drill site, nor did she care. If the choice was diving or diddling, s.e.x was certainly the less life-threatening option for Simon.

They sailed through a seascape dotted with rock outcroppings and headed toward the Dragon's Mouth-the narrow channel separating Trinidad from the Venezuelan mainland. San Gabriel was actually a small island off the coast of the Chaguara Peninsula, the northern spit of land pointing from Trinidad toward the body of South America. It was one of a half dozen towns that made most of their living from not-so-rich Americans and Europeans who wanted to experience diving and sport fis.h.i.+ng, but couldn't afford the big resorts and charters.

As many times as Peta had made the journey through the Dragon's Mouth by sea before, she was still taken by its jagged beauty. Distracted, wanting some escape from the endless worries about Simon and Terris that ran through her mind, at first she only half listened to what Manny was saying.

"...So Paul Trujold, he...You listening to me, Peta?"

"I'm sorry, Manny. I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's all right," he said. "But you need to hear this."Manny repeated what he had been saying. When he had finished telling her about Paul Trujold, about the real purpose of Simon's dive-to retrieve a piece of the artifact that was wedged in an underwater cave-she thought of the pendant that Arthur had given her and started to put the facts together. If there was any real basis for what Manny had told her, she could come to only one possible conclusion.

"My G.o.d, Manny. Are you sure? Because if you are, chances are Frik is responsible for Arthur's death."

"How so?"

"Arthur had a piece of the artifact. He always kept it on him. Frik could have seen it and put out a contract-"

"Yes, but you told me you saw the piece with Arthur's body."

"I did. It was covered with blood and-"

"So you say maybe the killer-"

"Missed it. Yes. It's possible, what with the police and so many people." She stopped. "G.o.d, Manny. If it's true and I don't get to Simon-"

Manny pointed at a speedboat. "That's one of Frik's boats, the one Simon's been using." He maneuvered between a small fis.h.i.+ng boat and the powerboat tied up to the village's makes.h.i.+ft pier. When he was up against the dock, he asked, "Want me to stay here with you?"

"I can handle things."

Without arguing, Manny tossed her duffel and medical bag onto the wooden dock, helped her out of the boat, and blew her a kiss. She watched him reverse into the channel, and waved him onward. Turning to face whatever awaited her in the village of San Gabriel, she trekked to the top of a minor incline.

In the only bar in town, which was also its only hotel of sorts, Peta met the owner-a handsome, charming Venezuelan who introduced himself as Eduardo Blaine and kissed her hand with far too much enthusiasm and spittle for a rank stranger.

"I am a friend of your Mr. Van Alman. He called to tell me you were on your way and told me to take care of you." He held on to her hand for more than a moment too long. "I am proud to welcome you to my establishment. Your room is ready for you. It has a spectacular view."

"If I could have that back." Peta withdrew her hand. She would like to have said that Frik was far from being her friend, but instead she asked after Simon.

"He is in his room," Blaine said.

"Please tell him I wish to see him. I'll wait at the bar."

"He, um, he is-how shall I say it-not quite alone." Blaine winked blatantly, as if at a co-conspirator.

"He did not wish to be disturbed."

Peta chose not to argue. "I'm told he will be going out early tomorrow morning. I must see him before then."

"If you will do me the honor of dining with me, I will promise to wake you before he leaves."

And then we arm-wrestle, Peta thought wryly. "Dinner sounds fine," she said. "But first I'd like to take ashower."

"Allow me to show you to your room." Blaine picked up her duffel.