I squint and try to make out the dark object on the water. “It’s a boat.”
“Yeah,” he says.
“That’s crazy! Why would a boat be out on the water?” I ask sarcastically.
He smirks. “Ha. Ha. Funny. Look closely. Whatdon’tyou see?” When I shrug a shoulder, he explains, “There aren’t any lights. It’s not anchored or stationary. Lights are required for navigation and safety. Why would anyone sail at night without lights? It’s too dangerous.”
“Maybe they’re having a malfunction with their equipment,” I state.
“There’s only one way to find out. Let’s follow them,” Roger says. He taps the soft spot in the center of his ear to turn on his communication device and relays our intentions to the rest of the team.
“Copy,” Elijah says.
“Do you need backup?” Jessie asks. “Please say you need backup. The only thing we’ve discovered so far is that George and Sally Parsons have four kids, a dozen grandkids, and are here celebrating their 50thanniversary. Oh! And Sally can give you a full rundown on how to cure gout using homeopathic methods.”
“Negative,” Roger replies. “We’re only going to observe.”
The boat glides slowly and silently across the water, which allows us to keep up with them while walking along the shoreline. Roger and I move further inland so that our silhouettes blend into the trees that line the pathway rather than remain isolated on the beach. Although it’s not uncommon for resort-goers to meander around, we don’t want to draw any extra attention our way. When the ground turns from soft, white sand into more compact dirt with buried seashells that have sharper edges, we take a minute to put on our shoes.
“I don’t know what would be worse, stepping on a Lego or stabbing the bottom of your foot with a broken clamshell,” Roger quips.
“A Lego for sure. That’s the kind of pain you never forget, but let’s hurry. The boat is disappearing around the inlet.”
There’s a small jungle filled with tropical plants and palm trees that mark the edge of the resort lodging area and has a winding path that leads in the direction of the boat rentals, charters, and other excursions. We halt and duck down, taking cover in the tree line before it opensup to the docks.
“I wish I had my night vision goggles—too many shadows and not enough details,” Roger says just as the boat bumps up against the cut tires secured to the side of the pier. A man jumps off and secures the mooring lines, then moves in a clockwise circle to ensure the area is secure. He waves toward another man standing on the bow.
As people start exiting the vessel, it’s like watching one of those clown cars where it’s an endless stream, and you wonder if there is an end in sight. “How many people does it take to operate a charter boat that size?” I ask, having no clue about anything that’s related to sailing.
“Not 27, that’s for sure,” Roger replies.
“Did you say that 27 people got off the boat under the cover of darkness?” Elijah asks.
“He’s has to be exaggerating,” Jessie retorts.
Carter adds his two cents. “When have you ever known Roger to exaggerate, Jessie? Oh, he might throw in a dad joke or two, but he’s about as serious as they come.”
Roger shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. I’m not used to a team that uses banter in situations like this. Most of the agents I work with are hyper-focused on the mission objective. “Are they always like this?” I whisper.
“Yes!” everyone shouts in unison, reminding me that even the softest of words can be heard when the communication devices are turned on. Yet it doesn’t sound loud in my ear, just a normal speaking volume.
“Is it possible that it was a night charter that went awry?” I ask.
“Unlikely. The man wouldn’t have ensured the coast wasclear before waving the people off the boat. Let’s see if we can find out where those people are going,” Roger says, tugging at my shirt so that I’ll follow him.
We don’t get very far when the sound of a diesel engine starts up, and we see the taillights of a short bus pull away and drive down the road. I catch a glimpse of people crammed inside, but there’s no way we can catch up to it on foot. “Did you happen to see what was painted on the side of the vehicle? I had a palm leaf in my face,” I say, swatting away the offending plant protrusion.
Roger nods. “From the brief peek I got, it appeared that there was a picture of two interlocking keys in the shape of a heart.”
Carter asks, “Are they employees of the resort?”
“I can’t confirm, but my Spidey senses are screaming that this is no ordinary transport. Although the boat has the words “Keys to Romance Charter” on the side, something smellsfishyabout the whole thing,” Roger says with a chuckle at his little pun. There is a chorus of groans that follow, and I shake my head in wry amusement.
Roger bends down further and takes a few steps backward in a slow and controlled manner until we are deep enough in the jungle that our movements would go unnoticed if anyone were still on the boat. I do the same until he turns around, stands upright, and walks toward our suite as if nothing is amiss.
“What do you suggest we do?” I ask, jogging to catch up. “Do you want to stake out the docks?”
Roger smiles and shows me his pearly whites. “I suggest that one couple take a charter and…”
