Danger at the Dive Shop

  Danger

  at the

  Dive Shop

  All rights reserved. © 2019 by Mercer Lake Publishing House, LLC

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

  Murder at the Mayan Temple, Book One (August 2017)

  Death on the Wind, Book Two (September2017)

  Danger at the Dive Shop, Book Three (October 2017)

  Chaos in Cuba, Book Four (November 2017)

  Sabotage on Solitude Bay, Book Five (December 2017)

  A Scandal in Spain, Book Six (January 2018)

  Nightmare Under the Northern Lights, Book Seven (March 2018)

  Terror at the Turtle Sanctuary, Book Eight (July 2018)

  Death in Dubrovnik, Book Nine (August 2018)

  Mystery in Mérida, Book Ten (September 2018)

  If you liked this book, be sure to leave a review!

  You can find me on facebook at M. J. Mandrake or Mary Jane Hathaway. Come on by and chat!

  Don’t miss the second book, Death on the Wind! Who needs enemies when you’ve got friends like these?

  Book Three, Danger at the Dive Shop is a deep sea game of cat and mouse.

  If you’re like Kitty and have always wanted to explore Old Town Havana, don’t miss the Fourth Book, Chaos in Cuba.

  Book Five, Sabotage on Solitude Bay, is a special edition Christmas mystery set at Leander’s family home in the Florida Keys.

  Book Six takes you on a Catalan adventure that ends in a shocking twist: A Scandal in Spain.

  Prepare for an ice cold killer in Book Seven, Nightmare Under the Northern Lights.

  Big changes―and mortal danger―are in store for Starling and Swift in Book Eight, Terror at the Turtle Sanctuary.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader,

  Recipes

  Angelina’s Famous Fish Tacos With Cilantro Lime Sauce

  Leander’s Specialty Dish: Camarones Rancheros or “Bacon Makes Everything Better”

  BIOGRAPHY

  Excerpt from

  Chapter One

  “There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade,

  but Death you shall not.”

  ― T.S. Eliot

  Kitty Swift slipped off her fins and took a deep breath of the warm ocean air as the other members of her diving group removed their gear. Chica, her German Shepherd service dog, hadn’t been thrilled about Kitty going off to explore the reef without her. Now she treated Kitty to a thorough inspection upon her return.

  “Am I in one piece?” Kitty asked.

  Chica gave her dignified-but-slightly-petulant look. Declaring Kitty in acceptable shape, she ducked her head and turned away. She appeared to be gazing out across the sparkling turquoise waters of the Caribbean ocean, but Kitty knew she was giving her the cold shoulder.

  “You wouldn’t have liked staying home with Nancy,” Kitty reminded her. Nancy was the graduate student who watched her vintage bookstore in Mérida

  when Kitty was working as a sign language interpreter for cruise ship tour groups. Chica liked Nancy, but she believed her place was with Kitty, and Kitty felt the same way. Where Kitty went, so did Chica.

  Except to the bottom of the sea.

  As glorious as God’s creation was, diving wasn’t for her. Chica was highly trained, intelligent and more than a little psychic, but there were still some limitations to her abilities.

  Like using a self-contained underwater breathing apparatus.

  Chica nudged Kitty’s hand to show she was mostly forgiven, then moved to a spot in the shade a few feet away. Kitty tried not to feel hurt. A guide dog never left her person, but this trip had been tough for Chica as Kitty spent most of her time exploring without her. Every now and then, it seemed Chica preferred to have a little distance between them. Or maybe Kitty was imagining it all, and Chica was simply trying to get out of the sun.

  Or closer to whatever delicious meat was roasting on the little stove.

  Today, the dive shop crew had brought them out on a large, modern dive boat named Freedom II. The deck was crowded with the stacks of air tanks and safety gear, but the associate dive master, Angelina, still made room for Chica wherever she went. Which, at the moment, was right where Angelina was trying to prepare lunch. Kitty couldn’t help liking Angelina for that.

  “Having a good time?” a friendly voice asked. Kitty turned to see Ren, a college student from Vermont, sitting down beside her. His dark hair was damp at the temples and he still wore his thick diving gloves. Tugging them off, he opened a small bag of M&M candies. He offered her one, and she shook her head.

  “No, thank you. And I sure am.”

  “You look like an expert.” He gestured at the gear. “Did you grow up along the coast? Or the kind of place where you could dive year round? Or even just in the summer?”

  So many questions. There was always that one person in a tour group who wanted everyone’s life story. “Nope. I grew up in a landlocked little town in the Midwest. The kind of place where you kept your car windows rolled up in the summer or you’d find your back seat full of kittens and zucchini.”

  He smiled. “Did you see that spotted eagle ray?”

  “I think so. Right after a sharp-nosed puffer fish.”

  “I missed that one,” he said, sounding disappointed. “Jenny!” he called to his girlfriend who was sitting at the other end of the boat. “Did you see the sharp-nosed puffer fish?”

  “Yeah. You were looking at the basket starfish, but I got some pictures before it went back into the coral.” She held up her GoPro. Kitty was regretting her decision not to purchase one, too. Besides being waterproof, it seemed very easy to use, which had been her biggest reservation. Jenny had shown her the settings and it didn’t look any harder to navigate than Kitty’s cell phone. She wasn’t tech illiterate by any means, but she avoided spending a lot of time learning new systems. Kitty believed that if it wasn’t broke, don’t spend a lot of money and time to fix it.

  “Awesome.” Ren grinned. “I think we’ve got almost everything we came to see now. Just need the spotlight parrotfish, lesser electric ray and honeycombed cowfish crossed off our list.”

  “Electric ray? I thought those were dangerous.”

  “Naw. The lesser rays can give a shock of about two hundred and twenty volts, but they won’t kill an adult.” He paused. “A healthy adult, I mean.”

  “I admire you guys for being so organized. I’m still learning the names of what I’m looking at down there.”

  “Well, as marine biology majors we have an ulterior motive, you know. Our summer project is worth ten credits. Jenny has been here before and said we’d be able to find what we needed in just a few days.” Ren glanced around, as if to make sure the dive master and crew weren’t listening. “Coleman said we were gonna visit Punta Molas and Las Brisas, but he keeps coming back to this one. We need to change locations for our project, but I’m afraid to bring it up. I tried to talk to him about it yesterday and he yelled at me for being a pain in his―” He stopped talking abruptly as Coleman appeared at the stern. Lowering his voice even more, Ren said, “Anyway, I’m trying not to be a problem, but we really need to go there.”

  Kitty grimaced. Coleman Larson, the dive master and
owner of the dive shop, seemed like he was in need of a vacation of his own, far away from the reefs of Cozumel. He wasn’t simply unfriendly. He was impatient, gruff, and tended to disappear when he was most needed. She’d heard rumors that he was a ladies’ man, but Kitty couldn’t imagine what woman would want to be with such an unpleasant person. Although he seemed to avoid his tour groups, he also spent hours lecturing them on the pollution that was ruining the marine ecosystem. Kitty appreciated knowing the facts, but his rapid-fire rants were like trying to drink from a firehose. Too much, too fast.

  Coleman would get so angry describing how the cruise companies were complicit in the destruction that Kitty could see his scalp turn red through his gray buzz cut. Kitty had read about the conflict between locals and cruise operators before, but she’d assumed it was far behind them after the construction of the half-mile long dock from the beach to a docking area far from the reef. Apparently, it was not. Coleman was livid about the recent construction and said it had been pushed through with bribery and illegal activity. Kitty decided not to volunteer that she worked for the cruise industry. If Coleman was that angry at the industry in general, she wondered what he’d do to a cruise employee standing in front of him.

  So, aside from his personality and passion for protecting the reefs, Kitty didn’t know much more about the man. Kitty had won the scuba trip while playing Bingo on her last cruise, and she knew the luxury cruise company wouldn’t have chosen Coleman if he wasn’t one of the best in Cozumel.

  “If it’s on the itinerary, we should be going out there. Maybe you could ask Mark?” she suggested. Coleman’s nephew, Mark, spent a lot of time smoothing ruffled feathers and making sure the tourists were happy. Although the sign said ‘Coleman’s Scuba Shack’, it was clear that Mark held more sway―and more responsibility― than any of the other assistants. Kitty didn’t think it was just because they were related. Coleman didn’t seem the type of person to find that very important.

  “I should. We only have one more day and we’ve been to this spot three times now. Jenny and I chose this tour just because it had those sites on the list. Not a lot of scuba groups will take the time to go that far north, unless they’re just going to paddle around and take pictures of the lighthouse.”

  Kitty considered offering to ask the prickly instructor, but decided against it. He seemed to have taken a particular dislike to her. Maybe it was because she reminded him of someone, but she could have sworn it was when he saw her reading her Bible in the main room. The expression on his face could have peeled paint. Or when she bent her head to say grace before meals. He’d barked at her to “eat because we’re on a schedule”.

  Kitty tried not to take it personally. She’d struggled with her faith for a long time, too, so she understood people who saw praying as a waste of time.

  So, asking about the schedule probably wouldn’t bring any more clarity than Ren. Sure, Coleman seemed to think the college kids were more hassle than they were worth, but he hadn’t been very happy to see Kitty’s service dog, either. In fact, it didn’t seem like there was anyone in their small group that Coleman hadn’t disliked on sight.

  “Let’s see what he says at tonight’s meeting,” Kitty said. “And if it sounds like we’re coming back here, you should bring it up to Mark.”

  “You’re right.” Ren smiled and Kitty thought about how carefree he seemed. Jenny was probably about the same age, but was a little more guarded, while Ren appeared to consider everyone a friend until he was proven wrong. “I better go back to Jenny. Sometimes that guy from Texas won’t take a hint.”

  Kitty watched him walk back across the deck to where his girlfriend was doing her best to ignore the man beside her. Andrew Rex was tall, with silver hair and a thick accent, and apparently had trouble grasping the moment when a woman was giving him the cold shoulder. Or maybe he just didn’t care whether he was wanted because as Ren sat down on Jenny’s other side, Andrew didn’t stop talking.

  Kitty watched them for a few moments, feeling a curious detachment. She was so used to being in charge of a tour group and shouldering the burden of the happiness. Now the bad behavior of other tour members really wasn’t any of her responsibility. It was rather refreshing. The only thing missing was Leander. She couldn’t help thinking back to the last time she’d seen him. The silver swift he’d given her for Chica, the kiss on the cheek, the endearingly awkward invitation to dinner. Whenever that would be. They didn’t even live in the same city.

  Kitty sighed. It was silly to be pining after him. She needed to enjoy herself and the few days they had left on their trip.

  Across from Ren, Jenny, and Andrew, the other three members of their group were struggling to remove their gear. The three middle aged women were on a trip to celebrate their twentieth high school reunion and all seemed nice enough. They bragged about their kids, complained about their husbands, and reminisced about old times. Lisa was the loudest and was never without her bright red lipstick. It amused Kitty that Lisa applied her lipstick the moment they came up from the boat and she took off her breathing apparatus. Her dark bob was sleek and stylish, and her nails were brightly manicured. Joan was shorter, rounder, and quieter. Her reddish blond hair didn’t like the humid air and she complained, although in a polite and subdued way, about her untamable mane. She’d already tried several products available on the island but had given up, taking to tying it back as tightly as possible. Christina was tall, had a raucous laugh and spoke in a voice that reminded Kitty of a cartoon character. When she’d first heard Christina speak, Kitty had thought the woman was putting on an act, but if it was, she hadn’t let it drop for a second.

  The three women usually drank too much wine after dinner and therefore were always the last out of bed in the morning, but Kitty tried to think positively. They were committed to enjoying themselves, and that was rare in a world filled with complainers. Besides, Kitty would probably act the same way if she had two good friends to take on her vacation. Chica was her best friend, but they certainly weren’t going to stay up late finishing off a bottle of wine together.

  When Kitty caught herself annoyed with the gales of laughter or empty wine bottles littering the outside dining area, she reminded herself that once upon a time she, too, had laughed until she cried and stayed up much too late telling stories. She didn’t want to begrudge anybody a little happiness when the world was full of heartache. There were worse things than being happy.

  Angelina stepped into her view. “Are you the vegetarian? I didn’t know if you wanted the teriyaki tofu or the plain with black bean sauce,” she said, a spatula in one hand and an oven mitt on the other.

  “No, not me. But Chica is,” Kitty said.

  “Es verdad?” Her brown eyes went wide. “I’ve never known a vegetarian dog. She’s so smart. She must be very… how do you say? Evolved.”

  “No. I was just kidding.” Kitty wanted to mention that Chica was indeed the smartest dog she’d ever known, and psychic as well, but she didn’t want to seem any crazier than she already did. “She’s been hanging around your little kitchen since you started making lunch. I’m sorry she’s been underfoot. She doesn’t usually move that far from my side.”

  “Oh, not a problem. Maybe she’s mad because you didn’t take her diving?” Angelina smiled as she turned to find the vegetarian in the group.

  Kitty narrowed her eyes at Chica. She was only a few feet away, but she wasn’t giving Kitty any attention at all. Whatever was in the pan was either the most delicious sausage ever fried in Chica’s presence, or she was still mad at Kitty.

  Stripping off her wet suit, she pulled a long, white cover-up over the dark blue one-piece she’d bought to wear under her gear. Hanging her wet suit on the hook, she settled back onto the bench and pulled out the book she’d brought along for the trip. She’d left her prized first edition copy of The Scarlet Letter back at the bookstore, but the leather bound volume she held, with its gilt edges and inked endpapers, was enough to make Kitty sigh wit
h happiness. There was no better way to pass the time than rereading a favorite book. Some found Nathaniel Hawthorne too wordy, but to Kitty, his phrasing was just the thing to occupy her mind whether she was snug in her bed, or waiting for lunch in the middle of the sparkling sea.

  Just as Kitty opened the book and found her place, Andrew plopped himself onto her bench. As she looked up and gave him a polite smile, she wondered if he felt a Texas gentleman’s sort of obligation to entertain every woman who was sitting by her lonesome.

  But she wasn’t alone. She had a book.

  “Howdy!” Andrew had a cheerful, gregarious manner but when he smiled, Kitty always felt like he was making too much of an effort to show off his teeth. She really didn’t need to see them all. The front ten or twelve were enough.

  “Hello, Andrew. Did you enjoy the dive?”

  “Sure did, honey. Best ever. Even though we’ve been here a few times now. I think we gotta move on, don’t you?”

  Kitty nodded. Maybe Ren wouldn’t have to speak to Coleman or Mark about it after all. Maybe the group would unite as one and insist on moving to Punta Molas for the last day. “I’ve heard the lighthouse there is very pretty.”

  “Forget the lighthouse.” Andrew leaned close, his grizzled grey beard inches from her face. “There’s treasure in that reef.”

  “Really? I hadn’t heard.”

  He glanced around. “Came out in a dive magazine a few months ago. Some lucky dog found a few gold coins and they traced them to a wrecked Spanish supply ship from eighteen hundred and something. The locals are trying to keep out the tourists. Everybody’s trying to find it.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  Treasure.

  Kitty felt a surge of adrenaline, the same feeling she had when she sat down to play Bingo on the ship. It was her mild addiction to gambling and games of chance. She knew better than to let it take center stage in her life but she still felt the pull.

  The next moment, she shook off the sudden urge to run to Punta Molas and look for gold coins. If the locals hadn’t found it by now, she certainly wouldn’t. She’d only been diving a few days and knew nothing about the area.