Perilous Waters, page 1
Contents
Cover
Also by Terry Shames
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Terry Shames
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Also by Terry Shames
Samuel Craddock mysteries
A KILLING AT COTTON HILL
THE LAST DEATH OF JACK HARBIN
DEAD BROKE IN JARRETT CREEK
A DEADLY AFFAIR AT BOBTAIL RIDGE
THE NECESSARY MURDER OF NONIE BLAKE
AN UNSETTLING CRIME FOR SAMUEL CRADDOCK
A RECKONING IN THE BACK COUNTRY
A RISKY UNDERTAKING FOR LORETTA SINGLETARY
MURDER AT THE JUBILEE RALLY *
GUILT STRIKES AT GRANGER’S STORE *
* available from Severn House
PERILOUS WATERS
Terry Shames
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First world edition published in Great Britain and the USA in 2024
by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,
14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.
This eBook edition first published in 2024 by Severn House,
an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.
severnhouse.com
Copyright © Terry Shames, 2024
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Terry Shames to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1180-4 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1181-1 (e-book)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
This eBook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
Praise for Terry Shames
“Razor-sharp, propulsive, and filled with heart-thumping action”
John Lansing, author of the Jack Bertolino series
“An irresistible, full-throttle thriller”
Reece Hirsch, author of Dark Tomorrow
“May be the best regional crime series around today”
Library Journal Starred Review of Guilt Strikes at Granger’s Store
“Readers … will expect, and get, shocking revelations”
Booklist on Guilt Strikes at Granger’s Store
“Should win Shames new fans”
Publishers Weekly on Murder at the Jubilee Rally
“A neat character-intensive combo of clever police work and family angst”
Kirkus Reviews on Murder at the Jubilee Rally
“A surprise ending makes this entry one of Shames’ best”
Kirkus Reviews on A Risky Undertaking for Loretta Singletary
“A careening powerboat of a thrill ride! Jessie Madison is adventurous, capable and a bit reckless. A compelling heroine you can’t help but root for”
Matt Coyle, bestselling author of the Rick Cahill crime series
About the author
An avid sailor for many years, Terry Shames has had adventures sailing on the US east and west coast, Mexico, the Bahamas, the Caribbean and the Mediterranean. She is a member of Sisters in Crime, the Mystery Writers of America, and the Texas Institute of Letters. Originally from Texas, she now lives in Marina del Rey, California.
www.terryshames.com
To my dear friend Susan Shea, partner in crime.
ONE
As my ‘goodbye to the Bahamas,’ the weekend excursion to the opening of Trophy Cay Resort promised to be a winner. The brochure gushed about the luxurious rooms, the sumptuous meals, and the island-style entertainment. Having worked in the Bahamas as a dive instructor for three months, I knew to take the photos and the promises with a grain of salt. But it hardly mattered, because the weekend was free, courtesy of my roommate, Shelley. Or rather, a gift from a regular at the bar where she worked as a cocktail waitress.
The trip to Trophy Cay on the high-speed ferry from Nassau took four hours, so it was dusk when the island came into sight.
I had almost missed the ferry because of an incident with an inexperienced diver who had panicked with a balky regulator. I’d had to stay late to fill out an incident report. My boss, Jeremy, knew I was trying to catch the ferry, though, and had speeded up the process to help me. I felt guilty that he was being so kind. He didn’t know that as soon as I got back from the weekend, I was quitting. It was time for me to get home to Virginia to pick up the pieces of my shattered life. Surely, by now it was safe to go back.
‘Jessie, look! It’s gorgeous!’ At my elbow, Shelley was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.
I murmured my agreement. Palm trees lined the pristine beach that glittered in the last rays of the late-afternoon sun. The ferry’s wealthy patrons chattered their approval as they pushed their way to the boat’s off-ramp. Once we were on the dock, we were directed toward the hotel, a magnificent white wooden island-architecture structure with lanais and patios, adjacent to a huge, inviting swimming pool.
We were met by white-jacketed men and sarong-wrapped women, bearing trays of mai tais and pina coladas.
‘Let’s get this party started!’ Shelley exclaimed as she grabbed a mai tai.
Upstairs, in our elegant, airy room, we changed into bathing suits and headed down to the pool, where guests were already settling into chaises and sipping drinks. We spotted a fake grass hut bar at the far end of the pool and I went for drinks while Shelley grabbed chairs.
We had come to party, but it didn’t take long for reality to set in. Most everyone here was in couples – older couples. Shelley was disappointed by the lack of eligible men. I was OK either way. I just wanted to relax and contemplate my future. Meeting an interesting man would have complicated my situation. We swam, drank rum, and relaxed until midnight.
Maybe because I knew I was nearing the end of my enforced vacation, I didn’t sleep well. For three months, I’d firmly banished memories of my humiliation back in the States out of my mind. Now, the thoughts crowded in, and I’d fall asleep only to jerk awake several times a night dreaming disturbing images: finding Diego Boland’s body surrounded by my sister’s bloody footprints, or my trainer, John Farrell, scolding me for my bad choices.
The next morning, we slept late and then had brunch poolside. We had just ordered when my gaze feel on two men walking onto the patio. I jumped up. ‘Johnny!’ I called out and waved. He waved back and said something to the man he was with before they headed over to us.
Jean Durand was a boat captain I’d flirted with at a party a few weeks back. Around thirty, he was lanky and tanned, with longish, sandy-colored hair that flopped endearingly over his forehead. He was dressed in baggy cargo pants and a scruffy white T-shirt, looking as if he’d just gotten off the boat.
As the two men neared, I realized his friend was a man I’d seen on the boat yesterday afternoon.
‘What are you doing here?’ Johnny said, kissing me on both cheeks.
‘You mean, how can I afford this? My rich roommate got us tickets.’ I poked Shelley. ‘Shelley, meet Johnny Durand. He’s French and his real name is Jean, but he likes to be called Johnny.’ I remembered being surprised to find out he was French. He had no accent.
Shelley giggled, but if Shelley was anything, she was honest. ‘I’m not really rich,’ she said. ‘Somebody I know gave me the tickets.’
Johnny win
‘I didn’t see you on the ferry,’ I said to Johnny.
‘I sailed here. I told you I was a boat captain.’
I remembered that he said it was a gem of a job, with wealthy owners who weren’t around often. ‘Nice that you could be here.’
‘I’m on my way back to Nassau and decided to stop in and see what the party was like.’ He looked down at his rumpled clothing. ‘I should probably go get changed before they chase me out of here.’
Shelley said, ‘I’m so glad you guys came. Everybody here is, like, old.’
‘You don’t like old people?’ Johnny teased.
Shelley fluffed her hair. ‘I was hoping to find a rich playboy here, preferably young.’
‘Don’t look at us,’ Johnny said. ‘I’m just the hired help. And Nick is …’ He shrugged as Nick frowned at him.
‘Go get your bathing suits,’ Shelley said, ‘and let’s go for a swim.’
We nabbed two more chaises on the poolside deck while the guys went to change. Johnny was staying on his boat, but Nick said he had a room at the resort. I wondered what kind of business he was in to afford this blowout. Johnny had said the decision to stop here had been last-minute. So how had he and Nick arranged to meet? Or had it been some kind of weird coincidence?
The four of us spent the rest of the day swimming, walking on the beach, and lying on the chaises, dozing. Or at least three of us dozed. Nick Garnier sat upright, reading something on his phone or staring off into space. At some point, Shelley and Johnny went for a swim, so Nick and I were alone. My never-ending curiosity got the best of me. ‘You don’t seem very relaxed. Why are you here?’
Nick looked surprised. ‘Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.’ He had a slight accent that I hadn’t noticed before. He hadn’t answered my question.
‘How do you know Johnny?’ I asked.
‘Jean and I are old friends. I’ve known him for a while. What about you and Shelley? You two don’t seem much alike.’ It was such an obvious question to divert me that I almost laughed.
I explained that when I came down to Nassau, Shelley happened to be advertising for a roommate. ‘You’re right, we aren’t alike. She’s barely out of her teens and I’m twenty-three, plus she’s really happy-go-lucky, and me, not so much. But we get along well. I’ll miss her when I go back.’
Nick swung his legs over the side so he could sit facing me. I was aware of his muscular, hairy legs that hadn’t seen the sun in a while. ‘Are you going back soon?’ he asked.
I shrugged. ‘Probably.’
‘Don’t you like it here?’ I was aware of his intense gaze and wondered if he ever really relaxed.
‘I do. It’s beautiful.’
‘What kind of work do you do?’
‘I’m a dive instructor.’ At least until I could get back and re-channel myself from the career I’d wrecked. From FBI trainee to what? Who knew?
He glanced at my body. ‘Yeah, that fits.’
Before I could turn the conversation back to questioning him, Shelley and Johnny showed up to tell us that waiters were setting up a lavish buffet and that a steel band was soon going to start playing out on the beach. ‘I’m starving,’ Shelley said.
No one else seemed to be dressed for dinner, so we rinsed off at the outdoor shower and got in line for food. I was famished, not having had time for lunch. We were almost at the food table when a portly man, who introduced himself as Alan Christy, the resort manager, announced that there would be a limbo contest at nine o’clock.
Eyes sparkling, Shelley said to me, ‘Are you going to do it?’
‘When have you ever known me to turn down a limbo contest?’ I asked, laughing.
Johnny put his arm around my shoulders, casually. ‘This I’ve got to see,’ he said.
The four of us went to sign me up. There were five other contestants – only one other woman, and I heard her say she was doing it on a dare. One man, a muscular island guy, looked like a real threat.
‘Should we bet on you?’ Johnny said before I went to join the emcee.
‘Yes!’ Shelley said. ‘She’ll kick butt.’ Her eyes were shining. She gave me a hug for luck. I noticed Nick rolling his eyes. He might be surprised.
TWO
Sweaty and thirsty after the limbo contest, I swigged a bottle of water and looked around for Shelley and the two guys. It was fully dark, and fairy lights had come on all over the patio. It looked magical.
I found Johnny and Nick in the billiard room, deep in conversation. Their heads jerked in my direction, and Nick frowned.
‘Hi, guys,’ I said. Something in the atmosphere made me feel awkward. ‘I was wondering where you were. This could be fun.’ I nodded to the table. ‘Let’s play some pool later.’ My eyes fell on a backpack lying open on the table. Next to it was a package wrapped in brown paper.
‘Sounds good,’ Nick said, but his voice was clipped, as if he was impatient.
‘Yeah, let’s play.’ Johnny’s voice had an edge to it.
‘I think I interrupted something,’ I said.
‘Not a problem,’ Johnny said, glancing at Nick. ‘By the way, you were awesome. Where did you learn to limbo?’
I shrugged. ‘It not something you learn, really. Just takes practice.’ I couldn’t help shooting a triumphant look at Nick, but he wasn’t looking my way. ‘I’ll go look for Shelley,’ I said. ‘You guys can find us when you’re ready.’
As I closed the door, I heard Johnny say, ‘Are we OK?’
Back on the patio, Shelley came rushing up, a drink in her hand. ‘Jessie, oh my God! You won! That was so amazing! I kept telling people I know you!’
I brandished my prize, a bottle of champagne. ‘Champagne breakfast tomorrow morning!’
‘I don’t know where the guys are,’ she said, looking around, and then her face brightened. ‘Here they are.’
I turned to see Johnny grinning at me. Nick still looked strained, but he forced a smile.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’ Johnny asked.
‘Long story.’ I wiped my brow with the back of my hand.
Nick glanced between Johnny and me with a frown. I wondered what his problem was. Was it because I had barged in on them in the billiard room? Were they engaged in some criminal activity? Whatever, I figured it wasn’t personal. He caught me staring, and his expression slipped into neutral.
‘We’re going to the pool,’ Shelley said. ‘Want to come?’
‘Sure,’ Nick said. He was being polite.
Johnny ran his fingers lightly up and down my back. He slipped his hand around my waist and whispered. ‘Let’s go down to the beach.’
I hesitated. Did I want to leave Shelley with Nick? Something about him didn’t sit well with me. He was too tense for a casual vacation.
Johnny pre-empted my caution by saying to Nick, ‘You guys don’t mind if we skip out for a while, do you?’
Shelley grinned at me and raised her eyebrows suggestively. Too bad she wasn’t the one with Johnny. I thought they would like each other. But three months in the islands had taught me to be more spontaneous. I snuggled in and put my arm around Johnny.
‘Don’t forget we need to finish our talk,’ Nick said to Johnny. He was scowling.
‘We’ve got all day tomorrow,’ Johnny said. ‘We’ll catch up with you later.’
We left the bottle of champagne at the front desk and headed out to the sand. The air caressed my skin, typical of an evening in the islands. Close to the water, we watched tiny waves lap at the shore, phosphorous in the waves sparkling.
Johnny turned to face me, drew me close, and kissed me. In spite of my reservations, my body responded, and I shivered.
‘Let’s go to my boat,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to see it.’
