Tourist Trapped (28 page)

The woman nodded and remained anchored to the ground in the seedy hut, her body convulsing as she wept.

The bushes slashed at Amanda’s skin, as if avenging her sister’s death. Branches scraped off bits of her, taking hide in exchange for redemption. A soldier pointed to a tree and the captain said, “See the bullet?”

She looked closer and spotted the glint of metal embedded in the bark.

“They sprayed the area with gunfire. No one would have survived.” The senior official continued on.

A cold sweat washed over Amanda and her extremities quivered as she followed the military personnel. Sticks rose out of the ground and jabbed at the sides of her feet. Her Tevas were great for the water, but not for jungle. Each step angered the wound on her leg and the sea-soaked bandage had begun to loosen.

Through the thick vegetation, Amanda caught sight of two soldiers staring downward. Captain Garza stopped next to them and they pointed at the ground. “Is this Señora Adams?”

Amanda tried to swallow the lump the size of a peach pit that lodged itself in her throat. The stench of warm, dead flesh filled her nostrils. She gritted her teeth and ventured forward, focusing on the limp body beneath the buzz of flies. The glassy eyes that stared into the world beyond didn’t belong to her sister.

“It’s not her! That’s not Rebecca.” Relief sucked the energy out of Amanda and she leaned against a tree to keep from crumpling to the ground. A dam broke and tears flooded her vision. White-hot tears that released years of anger and resentment, streamed down her face.

“Señora, are you all right?” The officer said.

She nodded. “Yes, please, give me a minute.” She bent over and wiped her face on a shred of her tank top. “Let’s go back, I have to tell Miriam.”

Rebecca could still be alive…but for how long?

THIRTY-FOUR

Thursday December 17, Midday

The dead girl’s
vacant eyes haunted Amanda—they murdered a child! Those barbarians would surely execute Rebecca and Trent if the ransom delivery failed…but would they kill them even if they received the money? Ferreting out her sister and brother-in-law and whisking them to safety became even more critical.

But she was Cooper-less. She slumped over the bench on Fernando’s speeding boat, exhaustion returning with vengeance. Her legs and arms burned from scratches covering almost every inch of exposed skin. At least her thigh stopped throbbing when she didn’t move.

Without her trusty techno bloodhound, she didn’t know what came next. They had followed the lead to Cozumel and found the boat. Cooper would have a plan. Her personal CSI wannabe would have scoured the abductors’ hideaway until he unearthed a lead or two, sending them in a new direction.

A distraught Miriam had stayed with the Navy, hoping they would find Rebecca or some indication of where she could be. Amanda had volunteered to return to San Miguel to gather sturdier clothing for both of them, and to rent a pick-up and an ATV so she could maneuver around the island herself.

“Muchas gracias, Fernando. Thanks for saving me today.”

“No problemo. It was the most excitement I’ve had in a long time. Got the blood pumping.”

The stench of that hut—she couldn’t quash it. Amanda tried to imagine life while holed up in that tiny space, day after day, scared to death. Where did the kidnappers stash Rebecca and Trent now—someplace worse? And how would Amanda find them?

Cooper would know where to look—or he’d text somebody and a clue would magically surface, like bubbles in water. The Navy had locked down the island and were inspecting every plane and boat departing from Cozumel, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Rebecca and Trent must be alive. She needed to concentrate, to figure out where to look next. Once she returned to the hotel, she’d pore over super-sleuth’s notes until she found something—anything.

I need him.
She dialed Cooper’s number, desperate to hear his voice, but instead she heard the automated message. For a second time, tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision before she wiped them away. “Cooper. Hi. It’s Amanda. We found the boat but not Rebecca and Trent…um…can you call me? I really need your advice. We’re running out of time and I don’t know what to do. I’m not very good, going at this alone…call me, please?”

She slipped the phone into her tote bag, hoping Fernando didn’t notice her pull out a tissue.
Get control, girl. You have to figure this out yourself.

“What’s that?” Fernando slowed the boat and turned it toward the beach.

Amanda glanced up and spotted someone running across the shore and into the jungle. Her heart hammered in double time. “I think that’s Rebecca—get me over there!”

He sped up and almost rammed the shore, hitting reverse at the last moment. Amanda jumped off, ignoring the assault of the saltwater on her wound. She rushed across the beach, trying to enter the jungle where she thought Rebecca went in. Sunlight abandoned her as she fought her way into the never-ending tangle of bush, vines, and trees. The temperature dropped and the green scent of decaying leaves filled her nostrils. Dead wood crackled beneath her feet while living branches ripped at her arms and legs. They tore at her face and snagged her hair. Pain pulsated through her leg, like a knife shredding the remaining tissue.

“Rebecca! It’s Amanda. We’ve been looking for you. Please, come back. Your mom’s up at the cove with the Navy. Rebecca, please, you’re safe now.”

The unrelenting gauntlet of growth tripped her feet, swiped at her skin and obscured her view. The jungle impeded every step, closing in around her and erasing any evidence of her trek. Amanda held her arms in front of her eyes and traipsed forward. How would she find her sister when she couldn’t see beyond two feet?

She stopped, listening for rustling. No sound except the songs of birds. Had she misjudged and entered too far south? Too far north?

“Dad’s down here, too, he’s looking for you in Cancun.” Amanda stomped deeper into the vegetation. “I saw where they held you. It’s awful. And I checked out the boat, the Ocean Fox. Trent booked it for a fishing trip.”

The crippling pain in her thigh tried to distract her, to force her to give up, but she pushed through branch-after-branch, each limb a claw, slashing her flesh.

“We saw your pictures from Señor Frog’s and Carlos ‘n Charlie’s. We’re all staying at Fiesta Oasis Royale, waiting for you.”

The thick brush disoriented Amanda and she feared she roamed in a circle. The canopy of leaves reminded her of hiding beneath a blanket, the greenery eclipsing the sun’s location.

“At the aquarium they told us you loved swimming with the dolphins and we know you went snorkeling with an older couple at Isla Mujeres while Trent stayed on the sailboat.”

Is that sobbing?
Amanda halted and held her breath. She altered her course and then stopped every few feet to orient herself toward the mournful sound.

She spied her sibling huddled on a fallen tree: dirty face, ratted hair, filthy and tattered tank top and shorts. Rebecca looked so small and fragile.

“Let’s get you out of here.” Rebecca looked up with empty eyes and Amanda held out her arms and eased herself toward the girl. Rebecca froze until Amanda knelt down and embraced her. “C’mon, little sister, let’s get you someplace safe.”

Rebecca wept and fell into Amanda, limp as a rag doll. “They’re dead. Trent and the girl. They killed them.”

“Trent’s dead?”
I failed her—and Miriam—and Dad.

Amanda passed her tongue over her lips, but they remained dry and cracked. Saliva had forsaken her as she had forsaken her brother-in-law.

Rebecca’s mass of black, matted hair nodded. “They shot him when he tried to help me escape. He sacrificed himself for me.” Her grimy body shook with each sob. “And the girl, too.”

The young girl’s eyes, devoid of a soul, floated back into Amanda’s consciousness. “Who was she?”

“She brought me food. They killed her because she helped me get away. Poor little thing. Who are these people? Why did they kidnap us?”

“I don’t know Rebecca, I don’t know.” Was it all over—the finale of their search a live Rebecca and a dead Trent? Amanda examined Rebecca’s state. Scratches and gashes covered her arms and legs, and blood mixed with the dirt on her clothes. “Are you hurt? You look pretty bloody and scraped up.”

“I’m okay.”

Now…how do we get back?
Amanda shut her eyes and listened for her sound: the surf. Beneath the twitter of the birds, like the heartbeat of the jungle, she caught the rhythmic crashing of the waves. She swiveled her head until she determined their direction to freedom.

“Stay close.” Amanda forged a path, swatting at the undergrowth, one limb at a time, careful to keep each one from whipping back and hitting Rebecca. Inch by inch, they worked their way to the shore, finally breaking through the wall of green and onto the sun-soaked sand.

Fernando motored up and jumped out to help Rebecca into the boat.

Once on deck, he assessed the girl. “Have you been shot, too?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No. Trent and the girl, but not me.”

“So at least somebody hasn’t been shot yet,” he whispered to Amanda. “Seems like pretty much anyone involved gets a bullet in them.”

* * *

Amanda settled Rebecca
on deck and fed her from the stash of food and beverages. Her sister guzzled two bottles of water, and inhaled some bread and cheese.

Fernando motored the boat down the coast and Amanda cleaned off Rebecca’s bloody scratches with water and paper toweling. Some of the gashes looked pretty deep, and the outer soles of her feet could best be described as chopped sirloin. Amanda tried to treat them with the paltry options from the first aid kit, but her sister needed to see a doctor soon.

Between swallows from a third bottle of water, Rebecca started talking. “I was so scared all the time, except when they let Trent stay with me.”

“You weren’t locked in the hut together?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, I was usually by myself. They’d throw him in with me for a little while most days, but they beat him up a lot, trying to force him to divulge a contact for the ransom. For a long time he refused to cooperate. He looked worse every day.”

“Where did they keep him?”

“I don’t know. I assumed they had him in another hut like mine. Trent didn’t say.”

“The captain didn’t show us any other solid buildings. Maybe the hut was farther out.”

“Did you see him?” Rebecca said.

“Trent? You said he was dead.”

“Did you see his body?” Rebecca’s eyes glistened with tears. Although Amanda had tried to wipe the dirt off of Rebecca’s face, the steady stream of tears streaked her smudged cheeks.

“At the time I left, they had found the bodies of some men—probably kidnappers—and the girl. We didn’t see Trent.”

“Maybe they buried him. At least he won’t be eaten by the animals. I don’t want Trent’s body ripped apart. Trent!” She howled his name and then spun around and vomited over the side of the boat.

Amanda grabbed her sister’s shoulders, holding her tight while Rebecca bent over the gunwale, retching until nothing came up.

Did I force their hand to kill Trent?
“Becky, I hate to ask, but I need to know. When did they shoot Trent? Was it today?”

“No, he’s been gone for a few days.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Her little sister had endured so much—captivity and uncertainty, the threat of death and the loss of her husband. This girl that Amanda had discounted for so many years had a spine of tungsten to survive such hell.

Rebecca rinsed out her mouth and wiped her face. “How did you find us in Belize?”

Amanda and Fernando exchanged glances.

“Rebecca, why do you think you’re in Belize?” Amanda asked.

“Trent overheard the kidnappers.”

“You’re in Mexico. They held you on Cozumel.”

The tears started up again. “Trent thought we’d been smuggled out of the country and you’d never find us. It’s the reason he gave them Dad’s phone number. If we had known—Trent wouldn’t have told them. He might still be alive.”

Amanda wanted to ask her about Buho’s on Isla Mujeres and about Trent’s phone calls, but the future held plenty of time to figure it all out. First they needed to reunite Rebecca with Miriam and then return to Cancun. Rodriguez and the stalker dude continued to roam the Yucatán. Amanda wouldn’t feel safe until back at the hotel, behind a locked and chained door.

That was a lie. She wouldn’t feel safe again until she was with Cooper.

* * *

Amanda calmed Rebecca
and handed her a white soda. “You need to keep something down and this may be easier than water. You must be so dehydrated.”

“Thanks.” The Ocean Fox came into view. “No, don’t make me go back there!” Rebecca dropped the plastic bottle and clung to the bench, her knuckles white.

Amanda stroked her sister’s back. “You can stay on the boat, but we have to go in close enough for me to find your mom. Fernando, drop me off and then take Rebecca out to a distance where she feels comfortable.”

He nodded and brought the boat within sixty feet of the water’s edge. Amanda jumped off, yelling as she hit the surf, the seawater saturating her wounds and starting another round of wincing pain. “Miriam, we found her. Miriam, we have Rebecca!” She hollered as she waded to shore, but Miriam wasn’t in sight. A handful of military men patrolled the beach and one of them directed Amanda to the first Navy boat. She ran up the plank. “Miriam? Where’s Señora Sloane? Miriam, we found Rebecca—Miriam, where are you?”

A soldier led her to the despondent mother, balled up beneath a blanket in a corner of the command center.

Amanda extended her hand. “Didn’t you hear me? We found Rebecca running up the coast. She’s on the boat with Fernando.”

Miriam’s bloodshot eyes took a moment to focus while the news made its way through layered sorrow. She leapt up and ran out of the compartment, going in the wrong direction.

“This way.” Amanda grabbed her icy hand and pulled her through the boat.

Topside, Miriam scanned the water. “Becky!” She ran into the sea, muscled through the waves, and swam for the boat. Fernando motored over and helped the older woman onto the swimming platform, pulling her up with one hand, not bothering with the ladder.

Miriam wrapped her daughter in her arms and didn’t move. Fernando stood back and Amanda spotted the grin engulfing his weathered face.

Captain Garza walked up to Amanda. “Señora Sloane? Is that Señora Adams? Where did you find her?”

“On the beach north of here. Fernando can give you better directions, but we found her about fifteen minutes up the coast. She was walking along the shore.”

“What about her husband?”

“She said they killed him. Have you found his body?”

“We haven’t found anyone beyond the dead you’ve seen.”

“Could they have thrown him into the sea?”

“They would need to weigh him down, but it would be possible in this area. With so little snorkeling and scuba diving on this side of the island, they may have gotten away with it. Or he could be farther out in the jungle. If he’s been dead for a few days, animals may have dragged him off.”

Amanda shuddered at the thought of Trent ending up as carrion for denizens of the wild. Her brother-in-law probably had been executed and left where he died, to slowly become one with the jungle.

At least they were able to rescue Rebecca. Amanda watched the two women entwined on the dive boat. “Can we take Rebecca back to San Miguel? She needs to see a doctor.”

“We can take you back.”

“If it would be all right, I want to return on the dive boat. It’ll be a calmer voyage.”

“That’s fine, but we’ll need to talk with you more.”

“After Rebecca’s wounds are treated, we can meet you at the police station.” She gazed out at the boat. “We’ve rescued my sister, but there are so many unanswered questions.”