CHAPTER 1A Mysterious Encounter
One day earlier …
Picture yourself on a tropical island, on a beach so white it shimmers. The sand is as silky as baby powder between your toes. Doves coo and terns turn lazily in a crystalline sky. Scarlet- and purple-winged parrots flit among the palms. The water is the color of aquamarine gemstones, deepening to jade around undersea caves and indigo in places where the seabed drops away sharply. Turtles and angelfish glide through pink coral reefs.
Naturally, there are dolphins.
Your home is a sleek thirty-seven-foot Rustler yacht, and you can sail it anywhere, any time you choose. The Bahamas or Baja, California, this week; Turkey or Turks and Caicos next month. The Cape of Good Hope! Australia, even! Forget school. As for homework, that’s a thing of the past. You can spend all day, every day, paddling in lagoons, barbecuing lobsters, or snoozing on a sun lounger.
Now imagine that you’ll be doing this for the rest of your life. Forever and ever. Sound blissful? Remember that, even in paradise, the weather’s unpredictable. Sea squalls and hurricanes can whip up out of nowhere with terrifying speed. What if you capsize? What if there are sharks? What if you’re seasick? What if there are pirates?
And don’t forget that, below deck, the living compartment’s barely big enough to swing a ship’s cat. Every irritating habit, frustration, fear, or flare of temper is magnified. Being with your crewmates twenty-four/seven is a true test of love, especially when one of those crewmates is your ultra-aggravating twin brother. Not everyone survives it.
* * *
“You’re the most hateful boy who ever existed,” spluttered Jess, spitting up seawater, after falling headfirst and fully clothed into the marina, thanks to Jude. “When I get out of here, you’re dead.”
As she swam strongly back to the pontoon, where her brother was doubled over with laughter, it crossed her mind that one person’s idea of heaven was another’s hell.
Take Jude. If it were up to him, they’d only ever put into harbor a couple of times a year. He lived and breathed sailing and the sea. When he was ashore, he rarely left the marina, preferring to hang out with Gabe and the other yachties chatting about bilge pumps, knots, and rigging.
Jess, on the other hand, counted the days, hours, and minutes until they reached their next port and the furniture stopped moving.
That day’s Caribbean paradise was particularly welcome and not just because they’d spent most of the past three weeks at sea, or meandering from one uninhabited island to the next. Gabe had promised her two whole days in one place. Jess couldn’t wait to enjoy a shower that wasn’t a cold trickle and eat a meal that didn’t start life in a tin.
But the main reason she’d cheered when Gabe guided You Gotta Friend into a berth at the Nanny Cay marina was because the British Virgin Island of Tortola had a bookshop. By a happy coincidence, the latest in Jess’s favorite mystery series was being published that very day. As they docked, Gabe had handed Jess her birthday money and told her to treat herself to five books.
Jess had been so excited that she’d helped secure the yacht in record time. Convinced that every young reader within fifty nautical miles would be on a mission to snap up Castle of Secrets by Ellie Ellis, she’d set off at a sprint for the bookshop. She didn’t notice the hose that Jude had abandoned while mooning over a Leopard superyacht until it sent her belly flopping into the marina. Sam, thinking it was a game, had jumped in too.
“I didn’t leave it there on purpose,” protested Jude, putting his hands up to ward off blows as his dripping sister chased after him and as the dog barked wildly from a safe distance. “Anyhow, you shouldn’t be so clumsy.”
“And you shouldn’t be so careless and messy,” accused Jess.
“Not again,” chided Gabe from the deck of the yacht. “Beats me why y’all gotta bash heads over every doggone thing. You’re twins. You’re supposed to be best buddies.”
“Urgh,” said Jude, pulling a face at his sister.
Jess rolled her eyes. “Freak.”
“Geek!”
Luckily, Gabe didn’t hear them over the barking. “Sam, that’s enough! Quiet! Jess, it’ll take you five minutes, max, to dry off in this heat. Go get your mystery books. Jude, you’re about to be twelve. It’s time you took some responsibility for your actions and quit goofing around.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” said Jess, leaping loyally to her brother’s defense. “I should have been looking where I was going.”
“Thanks, sis, but I can fight my own battles,” muttered Jude, a scowl clouding his good-natured face. “Sorry for laughing though.”
In a louder voice, he said: “Yes, sir, Captain.”
“And what do you say?”
“Apologies, Captain.”
“And?”
“Apologies, Jess.”
Gabe jumped onto the pontoon. He ruffled Jude’s hair affectionately. “That’s more like it. Once we’ve refueled, let’s hit the chandlery and get those sailing gloves you wanted for your birthday. Now, kids, a little bird told me there’s a beach barbecue to die for on Tortola. If you promise not to squabble, I’ll treat you both to a slap-up lunch.”
* * *
Desert Island Books had a hot-pink storefront and a sign shaped like a palm tree. Inside, it smelled the way all good bookshops should, of remembered forests, both real and imagined, and inky dreams punctuated with peril, high-stakes adventure and dragons.
In this case, it was also fragranced with the tropical scent of its customers’ sunblock.
“You’re in luck.” The woman behind the counter tossed her long braids over her shoulder. “We have one copy left—on the Hurricane Specials table at the back. It’s so hot off the press, it’s practically smoking.” Out of the corner of her eye, Jess saw a girl with deep brown skin making a beeline for the Hurricane Specials. Jess flew between the shelves, but it was too late. The girl was clutching Castle of Secrets to her chest, face aglow. Her beaming mother was wishing her happy birthday.
Jess could not have been more crushed if an entire box of copies of Lord of the Rings had fallen on her head—but what could she say? A birthday today trumped a birthday tomorrow. She’d have wept if the girl hadn’t looked so delighted. At least Ellie Ellis’s newest bestseller was going to a deserving home.
“Don’t worry—we can order you another,” the bookseller consoled her. “We’d have it in by Tuesday. When do you leave Tortola?”
Jess tore off to the boatyard to find Gabe. Surely they could stay an extra couple of days? It’s not as if they were on a schedule. Early on in their voyage, she’d asked her guardian how long they’d be at sea and he’d laughed at the question.
“That’s not how sailing around the world works, girl! We’re not in a race or on a timetable. We’re living the dream! Best guess says it’ll take two years. Depends on the wind and the tides and whether we need to stop for repairs or to earn extra cash or whatever. We’re going with the flow, you know.”
At the boatyard, yachts were parked on trailers or winched up high in harnesses like wounded whales. Jess spotted Gabe right away. He was talking to someone silhouetted behind a dinghy sail. She hung back, not wanting to be dragged into any dreary discussions about inboard engine diagnostics.
Suddenly, Gabe’s voice rose. “Sorry, pal, you have the wrong man. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
Through the white sailcloth, Jess saw a shadowy hand grip Gabe’s shoulder and spin him around. For an instant he and the spiky-haired stranger were shadowboxing.
Jess, frozen as a shrimp on ice, thought she heard the other man snarl, “If you ever breathe a word … you’ll live to regret it.” Then a welding iron shrieked in the boatyard workshop, drowning out his angry words.
Before Jess could run for help, Gabe came striding toward her. He had a beet-colored face and his collar was crooked, yet he grinned at her as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“What happened?” cried Jess.
“What happened where? Hey, how did you get on at the bookshop? Did you find The Castle of Adventure, or whatever it’s called?”
Jess stared at him in confusion. The book had gone from her head. “No, I mean, are you okay? That person seemed … upset.”
The skipper kept walking. “Oh, him. We had a minor disagreement over the price of a new winch. Too much sun can make a man crazy. Those types are best avoided. Change of plan. Let’s grab takeout, round up your brother and dog, and hop on a quad bike to Josiah’s Bay. Turns out the beach barbecue here’s a bit of a tourist trap.”
Jess glanced over his shoulder. The silhouette behind the dinghy sail had vanished.
By the following morning, so had Gabe.
CHAPTER 2Even Good People Have Secrets
“There has to be a logical explanation—something we’ve missed,” said Jess. “He can’t have just disappeared … Can he?”
For the thousandth time that morning, the twins’ gazes roamed restlessly across the ocean, as though at any moment Gabe might bob up to the surface in a diving suit, lift his mask, and say, Sorry I’ve been gone so long, kids, but you won’t believe what I’ve found! A sunken galleon full of treasure!
Or come roaring up in a speedboat, yelling, Ta-da! Birthday surprise!
Ordinarily, Jess’s supersensible, wise-beyond-her-years approach to life made her easy to tease and was the cause of many of the twins’ rows. Now Jude was grateful for it. Jess was right. She was always right. Not as often as she thought she was but quite a lot. Added to which, she’d read so many mystery novels that she practically had a degree in detection. And that’s what the situation called for: a detective.
She was in private investigator mode now as she said, “Jude, tell me again what you remember about last night.”
But Saturday night didn’t make sense unless Jude first thought about Saturday afternoon. So that’s where he started, with the trip to Josiah’s Bay.
Neither of the twins had eaten since discovering Gabe was missing three hours earlier. They’d been too busy maneuvering the yacht to a mooring buoy near the Dog Islands. Consequently, Jude’s stomach rumbled as he recalled the smoky aroma of flame-grilled seafood that had wafted in his direction as he’d waited with Sam near Tortola’s finest beach barbecue the previous day.
On land, Jude always felt like a fish snatched from the sea. His skin became taut and itchy as if it had suddenly shrunk, and his limbs, well adapted to balancing on a bouncy, wind-blasted deck, felt weighed down by gravity.
Almost everyone who passed him had paused to admire the Swiss shepherd. Jude wouldn’t have minded if they’d wanted to chat only about dogs, but sooner or later they all wanted to know which yacht he was on and who was skippering it. Inevitably, they leaped to the conclusion that he was on a sailing holiday with his family. That Gabriel Carter was his dad.
Jude always dreaded that part. Gabe was like a father, but he wasn’t his dad. Could never be his dad. His dad was dead, and nobody would ever replace him.
Over the years, Jude had perfected the art of avoiding prying questions, but that afternoon one couple had been particularly nosy. They’d taken a shine to Sam and kept pawing him. As they fussed over the dog, they’d grilled Jude on where he’d sailed from, whether he had any siblings, and how long his father planned on staying in the Caribbean.
“What an adventurous life you must lead! Where’s Dad taking you next?”
Desperate to stem the torrent of questions, Jude bluntly informed them that his parents were dead. That was a mistake, because their faces crumpled with pity.
“You poor, poor boy,” said the woman with a sigh. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to them?”
Mercifully, Jess and Gabe came into view at that moment. Jude bolted through the palms to greet them, dragging Sam behind him.
Looking back, he should have guessed that something was off as soon as he saw his sister and guardian. Jess, who’d talked of nothing but the books she planned on buying with her birthday money for days, hadn’t bought any, and Gabe was acting weird.
Breaking the news that he wouldn’t, as promised, be treating the twins to the “beach barbecue to die for” because he had a “much better plan,” Gabe had exuded fake cheer.
Jude, who was starving, let out a heartfelt groan. But before he could beg Gabe to change his mind, Jess caught his eye and shook her head.
He wished now that he’d asked more questions.
Regrettably, he’d thought only of his stomach. And Gabe had soon won him over with an industrial quantity of coconut shrimp, roti, and key lime pie, bought from a wildly expensive café. He’d also hired an ATV (all-terrain vehicle). The three of them had roared through the lush green hills to Josiah’s Bay, Jude sitting in the back with the dog.
The pricey picnic and ATV were out of character too. Gabe loathed what he called “rip-off” tourist joints. But Jude hadn’t dwelled on that either. He’d been too busy savoring the picnic and enjoying the kind of afternoon that always made him pinch himself.
Somewhere, far away, kids were sweating through exams, plonked in front of televisions, staring at their phones, or otherwise sealed off from nature, in dank and stifling rooms in smoggy cities. Meanwhile, he and Jess got to play Frisbee with their dog in the sunshine on a beach that looked newly laundered.
Later, Jess swam laps in the choppy bay while Jude messed about in rock pools and beachcombed for shells and starfish with Sam. A near-drowning incident at the age of seven had left him wary of swimming in rough water. He’d never have admitted it, least of all to his sister, that the fear had intensified since they’d left Florida.
“Jess, stay in the shallows where I can see you,” ordered Gabe. “The rip currents here are notorious. If one grabs you, you know to just go with it, right? Don’t fight it. Swim parallel to the shore, and the rip’ll sweep you back in.”
Jess had heard the rip-current speech a hundred times over the years, but she dutifully promised to be careful. Gabe knew very well that she was more dolphin than girl. Under normal circumstances, her guardian would have swum with her. He loved swimming almost as much as she did. Instead, he stayed in the shade, tapping moodily at his phone.
“What’s eating the skipper?” Jude asked, when Jess returned to the beach. “He’s about as relaxed as a surfer in a cove full of tiger sharks.”
“Who knows.” She toweled off her hair. “Maybe he’s still ticked off with the boatyard guy for trying to cheat him over the price of a winch. They nearly got into a fight.”
Jude stared at her. “A fight? Over a winch? But we don’t need a new winch. The ones we have work just fine. Are you sure that’s what he said?”
“Hey, kids!” called Gabe. “I’ve had a flash of genius!” He came trotting over. “Jess, you asked if we could stay here longer so the bookshop could order your mystery book, but we can do better than that. If we sail to Virgin Gorda later today—maybe anchor overnight in the Baths National Park—you can buy your books at Leverick Bay on your actual birthday! How does that sound? Jude, you’ll love it there too. From what I’ve heard, some of the superyachts in the North Sound have to be seen to be believed.”
He grinned. “Before we leave Tortola, let’s swing by the bakery. A birthday isn’t a birthday without cake!”
Copyright © 2022 by Lauren St. John
