The Girl Beneath the Sea (Underwater Investigation Unit #1)(63)

I was expecting him to lay it out for me. He wants me to explain what Raul was up to. Okay . . . um . . . why did he have explosives?

“Did Raul know Bonaventure was in trouble?” I ask.

“Everyone did.”

“All right, but he kept showing up for work. Why? Was Bonaventure paying him that well?”

“Or was he paying him that poorly?” George replies.

“Wait? What? Oh shit.” It hits me. Damn, I’m slow. “Raul made a bomb. A small one.”

“Why?”

“To sabotage the Kraken. He wanted to sink it so he could recover the money.” Winston’s assistant had a half-billion reasons to sabotage it.

“Okay. You know boat stuff better than me. Why didn’t Raul just reprogram the thing or hijack the controls?”

I shake my head. “Winston didn’t trust anyone. Maybe he put all the controls inside sealed compartments and never let Raul near any of the frequencies. Bonaventure probably had him watched closely. Maybe even videotaped the whole procedure. Interesting . . .”

“Might be why the Mendezes left him alive,” George replies.

“Maybe it was the proof Bonaventure showed the cartel? Maybe they watched the tape and saw Raul acting suspiciously?”

“Could be. So, Raul puts an explosive on board. Timed or remote-controlled?”

“My bet is timer. Radio control would be dodgy underwater. They probably had a timetable for the delivery. Raul could have put a timer on it to go off at a certain point so he’d know where the sub sank.”

“Why didn’t he tell them under duress?” asks George.

“Maybe he did and got the math wrong?” I pull out my phone and look up the weather for a few days ago. “We had more rainfall last week. That meant the currents were stronger on the canals. I think they did an Everglades release too. That could screw up a small wreck’s location by several miles. He may have told them exactly where to find it, but it wasn’t there.” I open up a cupboard and start pulling charts out and setting them on the table.

“What are you doing?” asks George.

“Trying to figure out where it is.”

“It could be anywhere. You don’t even know where it was heading.”

“South?”

“The Intracoastal goes all the way to New York. Or the thing could have gone out to sea, right?”

“Maybe . . .”

“How many wrecks are there within a twenty-mile radius of here?” he asks.

“Thousands,” I reply.

“And you want to set sail and try to find it? Is this how your family plans all your expeditions?”

“More or less,” says Dad from the sliding doors to the deck.





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

RIPTIDE

Dad takes a beer out of the fridge and goes down the steps into his cabin. I think he’s already resigned himself to the fact that I’m going to be my own McPherson. He’s already watched two sons take jobs on land. It’s only a matter of time before the seagoing renegade tradition of the McPhersons comes to an end—unless he can convince Jackie to become a Somali pirate.

I turn my attention back to the map of Florida on the table. Little red marks with numbers indicate potential wreck sites—ones you won’t find in books. These are places where Granddad, Dad, and Uncle Karl thought we might find the remains of lost ships.

The problem with searching for wrecks is that the ocean has a habit of spreading things. The seafloor, far from being a fixed object, is a constantly shifting landscape. Dunes form and fall like the shifting sands of the desert.

One of the best times to go look for something is right after a hurricane. That’s when you go to known wreck sites and see what’s been unearthed after thousands of tons of sand have been swept away.

Fortunately, we don’t need a hurricane. The Kraken is probably still sitting on the floor in the open. If it’s in a canal, it could be in less than ten feet of water. If it’s in an inlet or the ocean close to shore, the depth still wouldn’t be that great. It would be an easy dive—if we knew where to look.

I draw an X on the part of Turtle Isle where the Kraken docked. I then place another X on the location of the secret shipyard.

“Our only two known locations,” observes George.

“So where to now? It could be anywhere between here and Colombia.”

“I don’t think he was sending it there. Maybe he was doing the money handoff, but if he put incriminating info about K-Group inside the sub, he might have planned on fleeing,” he replies.

“And you’re sure his ship has been under surveillance?”

“Constantly. In fact, I suspect he used the Good Fortune as a distraction while using the Kraken. If he sent it to the Bahamas, DEA and coast guard would shadow it.”

“So where was the Kraken going? Another location?” I ask.

“You’re Bonaventure. Where would your safe house be?”

“My safe house is my boat—when it’s safe. Is the Good Fortune his only ship?”

“That we know about. If he’s using another vessel for running money and drugs, he’s got it under another name.”

I think about where we found the Kraken hangar. “If he used that Belgian guy for the house above the sub tunnel, then he could have a boat under a different name.”