Island of Bones (26 page)

They stopped to tie a small piece of white cloth to a tree. It was Landeta’s idea, a way of marking the opening in the mangroves where they had left the boat. Then they followed the path as it wound along the mangrove shoreline. The moon slipped in and out of the clouds, giving them a chance to get a sense of their surroundings.

To the left were the mangroves, creeping out into the open water. To their right was a jungle of heavy brush, vine-tangled trees, and stands of shallow black water.

“I still haven’t seen anything, no buildings, no houses,” Louis said.

“We’ve only come about a half mile,” Landeta said. “We’re still running parallel with the water. My guess is the family lives inland.”

“It’s uphill,” Louis said. “And I haven’t seen any paths or anything going in.”

“So I say we stay near the water for now.”

“No argument from me, man,” Louis said.

They went a little farther and Louis drew up short
. Landeta stopped.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Hold on.” Louis got out his flashlight and flicked it on, aiming it inland. About ten feet into the brush, the beam picked up a white mound about five feet high.

“What do you see?” Landeta asked.

“I think it’s an Indian shell mound.”

He flicked the light off and they moved on. Finally, the tunnel opened onto a clearing.

“Shit,” Landeta whispered.

Louis turned back. Landeta was rubbing his temple. He had walked into a board nailed to a tree. Louis flicked on the flashlight.

“Is it a sign?” Landeta asked.

“Yeah. It’s in Latin. It says
Agni Dei
."

“That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he said, clicking off the light.

Louis turned back to the clearing just as the moon came out from a cloud. It swept the sand and trees like a soft spotlight. A wall of mangroves formed the outer barrier, the roots looking like snakes against the shimmering water. A canopy of oak trees arched high overhead, hung with what looked like heavy black
rags. The sandy ground was carpeted with dead leaves. Embedded in the sand were a half a dozen or so round stones, slightly larger than a human head.

Louis drew in a sharp breath. “Jesus,” he whispered, moving forward. “Jesus.”

“What?” Landeta asked.

Louis turned on the flashlight, sweeping it slowly over the round stones. They were carved from white coral and spaced about three feet part. They ran from the center of the clearing, down toward the water. He counted them. Five.

“What?” Landeta hissed.

“It’s a cemetery of some kind.”

Louis’s eyes moved over the markers. This was it. This was the reason they had come. Even though he had expected this, it was hard to think about. The faces of the five missing women hovered in his mind and he tried to remember something he had learned about each of them, but nothing was coming, not even their names.

They were too late. Years too late.

“What are those things in the ground? They look like markers,” Landeta asked.

“They are
, headstones maybe. They’re made of coral, I think.”

“Names?”

“No. I don’t think so. Let me look.” Louis moved closer, kneeling. He shined the light on the coral, hoping to see some writing or carvings, but there was nothing. The coral was too rough and covered in moss and mold.

“No names. But there are five of them, Mel.”

The moon disappeared again. Louis felt Landeta’s hand and turned to see him holding out the camera.

Louis stepped into the graveyard, glancing around. He hoped he could take a photograph without the flash. But he needed to
wait for the moon to reappear. He looked up. It wasn’t going to happen any time soon. He flicked the button for the flash and snapped the picture.

In the instant the flash lit up the graveyard Louis thought he saw something else
—- something dark and boxy on the edge of the graveyard that he hadn’t seen before. He walked toward it.

“Mel, there’s a table over here.”

Landeta came up next to him and Louis clicked on the flashlight, running the beam over the table.

It was a
small, rough wooden table. A dark red cloth was spread over the top.

“Do you see any candles? Knives? Anything for a ritual?”

“No,” Louis said, “just the table and the cloth.”

“Take a picture of it.”

The flash lit up the cemetery again, hanging in the air like lightning. Louis heard a sound behind him.

“Shit,” Landeta muttered.

“What’s the matter?”

“I stepped in a fucking hole.”

Louis clicked on the flashlight. Landeta was sitting on the edge of a large hole. There was a small mound of dirt with a shovel lying on it.

“Christ, Mel, it’s a grave.”

“What?” Landeta pulled his leg out and scrambled to his feet.

Louis shined the light directly down into the hole. It was about two feet long, maybe a foot deep.

“You’re sure it’s a grave?” Landeta asked.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing in it and it looks like it’s only half dug. There’s a shovel here.”

“What else do you see?” Landeta asked.

“Nothing,” Louis said. “We’ve got to call this in now.”

“Horton’s going to be pissed,” Landeta said.

“I don’t care. Call it in.”

Landeta got the police radio out. Louis moved away, his flashlight scanning the brush, looking for anything that could tell them what was going on here. The flashlight beam picked up a break in the brush. It was another path and it seemed to head uphill and inland. Louis heard Landeta’s voice and then a low burst of static.

Landeta clicked the radio off. “I’m not getting anything. We must be out of range.”

“Shit,” Louis muttered. “All right we’ll try again when we get out in the sound.”

Landeta was quiet “You’re sure there are only five markers here?”

Louis flicked on the light and swept the small cemetery. “Five, that’s all.” He turned off the light. “Maybe they were digging this grave for Shelly Umber.”

Landeta knelt by the hole
and grabbed a handful of dirt, bringing it up to his nose.

“The dirt is fresh
. Someone had just started digging it,” he said. He stood up, throwing the clot to the ground.

They stood motionless in the dark, listening, attuned to the smallest sounds in the brush and trees. But there was nothing except the whine of the mosquitoes
.

Louis wiped his forearm over his sweating face. His brain was screaming to get the hell out of th
ere. But suddenly he could see the faces of all the girls -- Cindy, Emma, Paula, Mary, and Angela.

“Mel,” Louis said
, “if this is a new grave, someone could still be alive somewhere, a girl we don’t even know has gone missing.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Louis hesitated. “I saw another path,” he said. “It heads inland. I say we go up and look around.”

“You’re reading my mind
.”

Louis switched the flashlight back on, aiming the beam into the break just beyond the wooden table. He went to the path and hesitated.

“Better turn that off,” Landeta said coming up behind him.

He felt Landeta’s hand on his back. It was pushing him forward. Louis started up the
slight incline of the path, Landeta behind him.

“
It’s all uphill now, Rocky,” Landeta said.

Louis saw the lights first, and then the house emerged, coming out of the dark trees. It was large, two stories, and made of wood. It looked like the restaurant, but without the white paint.

As they crept closer, Louis could tell they were at the side of
the house. The path continued on to the front, opening onto what looked like a large yard. Louis could see the outlines of other smaller buildings arranged in a semicircle facing the big house. The light had been coming from the ground floor of the big house. It had the soft glow of lanterns. There were lights on in the windows of the second floor, too, but none of the cabins surrounding the house were illuminated.

“There
’s a house, and smaller ones around it like a compound,” Louis whispered.

“People?”

“No one.”

“
But I hear someone,” Landeta said.

“Okay, we’re going closer,” Louis said.

Louis led Landeta up to the house. They flattened themselves against the weathered wood, moving toward a lighted window. Now Louis could hear the voices.

“
Tomas, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Louis looked at Landeta. Female.

“He’s causing trouble,” the man said. “He’s trying to change things.”

Louis eased up to the window. In the glow of the lantern, he saw the woman. She was old
, gray-haired and small, wearing a black dress. She was sitting in a carved wooden chair in front of the cold stone fireplace, which framed her like a primitive throne. The man’s back was to Louis, so Louis could see only his long dark hair and the rifle slung over his shoulder.

“He’s been talking to Rafael,” the man said. “He’s telling him we’re living like animals, that we
—-”

“Stop,” the woman said. “I won’t hear you talk like that.”

Landeta was tugging at Louis’s shirt and pointing back to the path. But Louis shook his head.

He heard a door open, and ducked back down. Another man’s voice.

“It’s time. Angel’s ready.”

Louis felt Landeta’s hand tighten on his shoulder.

“Tomas, go with Rafael,” the old woman said.

“I can do this alone,” Rafael said.

“No, let Tomas go with you.”

A moment later, Louis heard a screen door open and bang shut. Two men came out of the house, pausing in the yard while one of them turned up the
lantern he was carrying. They walked across the dark compound and one of the men disappeared into a cabin. When he emerged he had his arm clamped around the shoulders of a dark-haired woman. She was hunched over and Louis could hear her whimpering.

“Where is he taking her?” Landeta asked.

“Down the path we just came up,” Louis said. “Come on. Stay behind me.”

The man with the rifle led the way, carrying the lantern.
The other man followed, his grip firm around the woman’s shoulders. They didn’t speak. The woman’s soft sobbing was the only sound Louis could hear as he followed the soft glow of the lantern’s light down the dark path.

About halfway to the cemetery, the trio veered off to another path. Louis realized he had not even noticed the fork in the path when they came in. He motioned to Landeta that they were heading right. The path led to a cabin settled into some twisted trees. The cabin was smaller than the ones in the compound, more primitive looking, and it was dark.

The trio stopped. Louis touched Landeta’s arm and motioned for him to hide in the brush.

The man
the old woman had called Rafael still had his arm tight around the woman’s shoulders. Her whimpers were growing louder, more like short cries now. Louis could see she was having trouble walking. She looked badly hurt, and Louis fought the urge to jump out and stop this now. But he knew it wasn’t time.

“You don’t have to come inside, Tomas,” Rafael said.

The other man mumbled something Louis couldn’t hear and handed Rafael the lantern. Rafael pulled open the screen door and took the woman inside. Louis could see the glow of the lantern in a window.

In the dim moonlight, Louis watched as Tomas pulled the rifle off his shoulder and set the butt on the ground. He rested the rifle against his body and pulled out a cigarette. As he cupped
his hands to light it, Louis could see his face. He looked to be in his twenties and his dark hair flowed past the collar of his shirt. Louis recognized him as the man who had waited on them at the restaurant, the one with the piercing black eyes.

A woman’s scream split the silence. “Oh, God, no!”

Louis bowed his head. Another scream, followed by a low moan.

“We’ve got to get in there now,” Landeta whispered.

Louis wiped his hand on his shirt and slipped his gun from the holster on his hip. He could hear Landeta do the same. Tomas was still standing there, smoking the cigarette. With the rifle on the ground, they could take him.

Something snapped in the brush. More footsteps.

Tomas picked up the rifle, his eyes trained on the path.

A man came to a stop about ten feet from Tomas.

“Go home, Uncle Francisco,” Tomas said.

Francisco?
He heard Landeta pull in a quick breath. He had heard it, too.

The man came closer toward the cabin, and Louis peered into the dark.

Jesus.
It was Frank.

He was thinner, his hair was longer and ragged, and he had started to grow a new beard. But it was definitely Frank Woods.

Another scream came from the cabin and then faded off into ragged breathing. Frank looked at the cabin, then back at Tomas.

“
Tomas, just listen to me,” Frank said.

“You’ve talked enough,” Tomas said.

“This doesn’t have to happen. We can stop it. Now, right here.”

“It’s the way it’s done,” Tomas said. “It’s the way we’ve always done it.”

“No,” Frank said. “Not anymore. I’m in charge now.”

“Bullshit!” Tomas said. “You come back after thirty-five years and you think you can bring the outside world with you. We don’t want it!”

“Tomas, listen —-”

“You’re not one of us anymore, old man.”

The woman screamed again, a long guttural scream that hung in the thick wet air.

Frank started toward the cabin. Tomas grabbed the rifle and jammed the butt into Frank’s belly. Frank doubled over,
gasping for breath. Tomas hit him again on the shoulder, sending him to his knees.

“I’m moving,” Louis whispered to Landeta. “When you hear my voice, step out and point your gun at
the light inside the cabin. I want them to know there are two of us.”

Landeta nodded.

The woman’s cries were now a steady stream of whimpers that would build to sharp little shrieks then die away again.

Louis s
tepped toward the path just as the cabin door opened. Rafael came out, holding the lantern high in his hand. He was sweating and breathing hard. His hands were covered with blood.

“Tomas, something’s wrong. I can’t
—- ” he began.

Tomas turned toward the cabin.

Louis moved into the open. “Everyone freeze!”

Tomas swung back toward Louis. He started to raise the ri
fle but when he saw Louis’s Glock he stopped.

Landeta stepped from the brush, his gun aimed dead ahead of him.

For an instant, no one moved.

“Drop
the rifle,” Louis said.

Tomas looked at Landeta then back at Louis. He took a step back, planting his feet apart
. Rafael was frozen in place.

“Drop the fucking rifle!”

Tomas didn’t move, the rifle pointed down.

Sweat was trickling into Louis’s eyes and he blinked it away. “You,” Louis said, indicating Rafael with his gun barrel. “Come forward.”

Rafael took two steps forward then stopped.

“Closer!”

Rafael just stood there, holding the lantern.

“Damn it, do it!”

“They won’t,” Frank said softly.

Louis glanced quickly at Frank, still on
the ground.

“Frank, get over there with them,” Louis said.

“You know him?” Tomas demanded. He was staring at Frank. “You know him? You brought him here? Is he a cop?”

“I didn’t bring them,” Frank said through gritted teeth.

“You’re lying, old man!” Tomas yelled, gripping the rifle.

A scream came from the c
abin.

“Louis,” Landeta said, “I can go to her.”

Louis hesitated, his eyes locked on Tomas and Rafael. Landeta was standing just clear of the brush, about ten feet off to Tomas’s left.

“Go,” Louis said.

Landeta started slowly moving sideways. He had his gun still pointed at the lantern in Rafael’s hand. But his other hand was outstretched, held low, the fingers spread.

Louis watched out of the co
rner of his eye. He could tell Landeta couldn’t see where he was going, that he was trying to fake it. But the ground was too uneven, there were too many branches in the way. And he was moving too slowly.

Landeta inched his way toward the cabin. Tomas was watching him carefully, watching his outstretched hand. Suddenly, Louis saw Tomas’s eyes narrow.

“Rafael,” Tomas said, “turn off the lantern.”

“Don’t do it, Rafael,” Frank said.

Louis saw a flicker of confusion cross Rafael’s face and he started toward him.

“T
urn it off! Now!” Tomas yelled.

The clearing went black. Louis saw a shadow rush toward Landeta and he swung his gun toward it but held his fire.

A shot cracked the silence.

Louis froze in a crouch, his gun sweeping the darkness. The shot
was from a .45. That’s what he had heard. Not a rifle shot. Mel had fired his gun.

“Mel!”

Louis heard breaking branches, sounds of a struggle, and the crack of a fist against hard flesh. Then the scurry of footsteps in the brush.

“Mel!”

The footsteps were gone. It was quiet.

A low moan led him to Landeta. He was on his back, his hand on his face, blood seeping between his fingers.

Louis grabbed Landeta’s shoulder. “Are you shot?”

Landeta shook his head. “No, I got a shot off and then the fucker jumped me. Shit, I think he broke my nose.” He grabbed Louis’s arm to pull himself up. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know. Stay here.”

Louis edged back to the clearing. He saw the lantern on the ground. Rafael was gone. He knelt to pick up the lantern and saw dark spots in the dirt. He touched the spots and his hand came up bloody. But whose blood was it
—- Angel’s or Rafael’s?

Still kneeling, gun drawn, he scanned the brush. He saw no one. He heard nothing. Not even from the cabin.