The Voice inside My Head (25 page)

I
n the end, we drag Pat out of the water, weight belt and all. It takes Jamie, Reesie and Zach all pulling from above and me pushing from below to heave her waterlogged body onto the dock. I’m the one who stays in the water and gets a firm grip on her butt to hoist her up. I won’t let Zach help me. It’s the only dignity I can offer her in a death that’s stripped her of everything else.

When we finally have her resting faceup, looking at the sky for the first time in weeks, no one can figure out what to do next. The shock of her, finally among us, is too enormous. I take her hand. There’s nothing of my sister in its slimy coldness but a lot of the horror she endured. I tell myself she wasn’t conscious when she went into the water, but I know that’s a lie. I’ve seen her struggle. I’ve heard her screams. They’ve filled my dreams as her teasing voice once filled my waking hours.

Jamie has left the dock, Reesie with him. They’re standing together on the shore, turned away from us. I can tell he’s crying, though no sound reaches me. I envy him the easy release of his grief, the sister steadfast at his side, the last weeks he spent with Pat, weeks I lost. Zach is several feet
away, on his hands and knees, leaning over the side of the dock puking his guts out. My eyes fill with tears of rage — at my sister, her murderer and most of all myself.

I peer into her cold, fish-gray eye. It stares back without forgiveness.

“We need to get the police,” says Zach tonelessly. I didn’t notice him approach and glance up to find him standing above us, his head sunk into his hunched shoulders, his gaze off to the side. “I’ll go, if you want to stay with her.”

I look up at him, shielding my eyes against the blistering sun, and try to make sense of what he’s saying — something about the police. It’s too late for the police. Doesn’t he see that? I turn back to my sister. Sweat drips off my face, mingling with the salt water on hers. Together they form rivulets sliding across her cheeks like tears. I take her hand again. It’s still the clammy, foreign object it was before, but I force myself not to let go.

“Luke.” I start as Reesie touches my arm. I look back at the shore. Jamie’s no longer in sight. Nor is Zach. “Dr. Jake is back from seeing Pete off on the plane. He’s calling the police now.”

“What about Tracy?”

Reesie’s brow furrows. “You want to talk to Tracy? I didn’t see her. Maybe she went back to her room.”

I stand up and stride off the dock, breaking into a run when I hit dry land. I race to the office, stop just inside the door and take in the scene. Zach, Jamie and Dr. Jake are there, talking in hushed tones, but there’s no sign of Tracy.

“Where’s Tracy?” I demand, my voice tight.

Dr. Jake looks at me in surprise. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since early this morning. We have a dive going out later. She said she was going to get some gear ready, but maybe she went back to bed.”

“She wasn’t at the airport seeing Pete off?” Zach asks, but it comes out as a more of a statement as comprehension blooms on his face.

I’m out the door before Dr. Jake can reply. As my feet pound the cement walkway to Tracy’s room, Zach is on my heels. I bang on the door. Zach leans past me, turns the knob and throws it open. We rush in and freeze as we take in the scene in front of us. The room is empty. Tracy’s clothes, her Hello Kitty toiletry bag, her backpack, all gone.

“It was her,” I stare at the deserted room that chides me with the evidence that once again I’ve failed.

“We’ll find her,” says Zach.

“How? She’s gone; she could be anywhere. We’ll never find her.”

“This is Utila,” says a voice behind Zach. Reesie pushes past him into the room. “We just need to get ourselves on the radio. There’s no place to hide.”

Together we hurry back to the office. Dr. Jake meets us at the door. By the mixture of revulsion and concern on his face, I know he and Jamie have already figured out what’s going on.

“Was she there?” Jamie asks grimly.

“We need the radio,” says Reesie.

Dr. Jake points at it and sinks down on the couch, his head in his hands. We brush past him, and Jamie joins us as we huddle around the radio. I fidget while Reesie flips it on and repeatedly punches a button, flicking through stations.

“I’m tuning in to the emergency frequency,” she explains. “There’re some people always on standby on it. It’s the fastest way to get the word out. After that, we can try individual stations, track her down when we start getting some sightings.”

Jamie takes the mike out of her hands and pushes down the button, speaking into it hoarsely. “Putting out an all-points for Tracy from the Whale Shark Research Center! Wanted for murder. Out.” He releases the button, and we all wait in silence as the radio crackles.

Jamie holds down the button again. “Blond girl from the Whale Shark Research Center, probably carrying a pack. Wanted for murder. Out.” The seconds tick by as the radio continues to crackle. Jamie raises the mike to his mouth again just as a voice bursts out of it.

“Ya lookin’ for the little blond girl from the Shark Center?

Out.”

“Roger that,” says Jamie anxiously, holding down the button. “She’s wanted for murder. Out.”

“That you, Jamie Greenfield? Out.”

“That’s right. Who’s this I’m speaking to? Out.”

“It’s T.J. from Bungie’s Café. Ya serious ’bout that murder thing? Out.”

At this point I’m ready to rip the mike out of Jamie’s hands, but he gives me a warning look.

“It’s serious. You seen her? Out.”

“Yep. I sure have. Out.”

“You want to goddamn tell us where?” I shout, but Jamie doesn’t have the button down so my tirade goes unanswered.

Jamie keeps an eye on me as he presses the button. “Where would that be, T.J.? Out.”

“She be goin’ off in Mr. Christian’s boat. Looks like they be headin’ for the cays. Out.”

“Thank you kindly, T.J. Out.”

“Ya tell you’ mama to drop round for a coffee sometime, on the house. Out.”

“I’ll do that. Out.”

“We’ll take my boat,” says Jamie, replacing the mike and heading for the door.

“I need to bring my sister in off the dock,” I say, feeling guilty I only just now thought of it. “Is there somewhere I can put her?”

“Bring her in here,” says Dr. Jake. “The police should be here soon. They’ll need to take a look at her.”

I cringe at the thought of strange men pawing over her. If I don’t go after Tracy now, it may be too late, but how can I desert my sister? My eyes well up as I think of her alone, not just now but forever. How many times am I going to fail her?

Reesie looks at me worriedly, like she’s following the direction of my thoughts. “Do you want I should stay with her?” she asks.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

We all go out to the dock. A pelican is perched on the end, close to Pat’s body. It flies off when we get close, but following its path upward, I notice several frigate birds circling. They’re carrion eaters. I have no doubt why they’re hanging around. If I had a rock, I’d throw it at them.

I want to remove the weight belt from Pat’s waist, but Dr. Jake says we should leave it for the police to inspect, which makes it a struggle to lift her. She’s slippery, and I almost drop her a couple of times, but I won’t let anyone help me as I lumber along the dock and back to the office. I lay her gently on the couch and wonder briefly if Dr. Jake would have preferred I put her on the floor, but he claps a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll take care of the police,” he promises. “You go do what you need to do.”

Jamie, Zach and I hurry through town to the dock where Jamie keeps his boat. We’re a sorry group of heroes, all too aware that any justice we win for Pat now won’t achieve the only thing we all want — to have her back. I try to talk to her in my head, but she remains stubbornly silent. I wonder if her voice is lost to me forever. Perhaps she was only trying to lead me to her, or maybe she was never there at all. Maybe it was my imagination from the beginning, and it’s only deserted me now because even I’m not deluded enough to conjure a living soul from the stark evidence of her ravaged carcass.

We clamber into Jamie’s boat, a narrow, wooden dory like all the others I’ve seen here, and cast off from the dock, motoring slowly out of the harbor, picking up speed as we reach open water. The sea looked calm from the shore, but out here the swells are massive. We ride them up eight feet and crash down amid a cascade of water sloshing over the gunwales. Zach rocks with the waves like he’s riding a horse, at ease with the rhythm. I clutch the sides of the boat and stare into the dark blue water, wondering why I let him save me from drowning. If I’d stayed with Pat, it would all be over now. Maybe that’s all she wanted, company in her final resting place. I’m glad it’s too loud for the three of us to talk over the sound of the motor and splashing waves. We’re united yet alone, all suffering our own private grief.

The sea smoothes out as we come into a channel between the main island of Utila and the smaller cays off its southwest bank. Though tiny, the island we’re approaching seems even more bustling than the town we just left. There are few trees and, apparently, not an inch of undeveloped land. The houses that line the coast are built out into the water on stilts, using the reef as a foundation. Jamie is hailed from shore by several men hurrying along the dock from one of the adjacent buildings.

“She’s not here!” one man shouts before we’ve even docked. “We heard on the radio ya be chasin’ down a girl who be
goin’ with Mr. Christian’s boat. They didn’t come here.” He leans out and catches the rope that Zach throws to him.

“Any idea where they might be?” Jamie asks, steadying the boat with one hand on the dock.

“No. There’s been loads of chatter, but no one’s seen ’em. I expect Mr. Christian dropped her somewhere and went off to do some fishin’.”

“Damn,” I mutter. She could be anywhere, and while the radio may be effective for hunting her down on the populated parts of the island, most of the island’s just empty forest.

“It’s thirty minutes back to town,” Jamie says. “We won’t hear much until Mr. Christian puts in somewhere, but we could get on the radio so we know where we should be heading.”

I exhale in frustration. “That makes sense. We should also radio Reesie and give her an update.”

Zach and Jamie nod in agreement so we all pile off the boat and head into the nearest building, which turns out to be a very basic guesthouse for divers. There are a few sticks of furniture and a TV blaring in one corner, with a kid half-asleep in front of it. Other than that, the only modern convenience is a radio. I’m beginning to see how central this apparatus is to remote island living. This one’s already crackling away, picking up a conversation between several boats about the location of a school of dolphins. Jamie switches the frequency to the one the Shark Center stands by on and puts in the call.

“This is Jamie, from the cays. Out.”

“Hello, Jamie. Dr. Jake at the Shark Center. What are you doing in the cays? Out.”

Jamie looks at Zach and me in confusion. We shake our heads.

“We came here looking for Tracy. Out.”

“But Reesie got your message you’d gone to Jack Neil. Out.”

“What is he talking about?” Jamie asks anxiously.

I take the radio out of his hand. “What message? Out.”

“It came in over the radio not more than ten minutes ago. Gudrun from Poppies Hotel sent it. Out.”

I raise an eyebrow at Jamie.

“This is Poppies,” he explains. “Gudrun is one of the dive masters who works out of here, but their boat was gone when we docked. They must be out diving already.”

“Gudrun said Tracy’d been dropped at Jack Neil Beach, so Reesie left in the dinghy twenty minutes ago and went to meet you there. Out,” says Dr. Jake.

“Where’s Jack Neil Beach?” I ask with a flash of hope. But Jamie doesn’t answer as he turns to the kid lounging in front of the TV.

“Has Gudrun been on the radio this morning?”

The kid looks over at us in surprise. “Not from here. She took a group out early. She could have called from the boat, though.”

“We’ve got to go,” Jamie says over his shoulder, already racing for the door with Zach behind him. I see them through the window, sprinting hell-bent along the dock, so I tear after them. Something is clearly wrong. My stomach churns when I realize it somehow involves Reesie.