Caribbean Rescue (Coastal Fury Book 16) by Matt Lincoln (i can read books txt) 📕

“That’s… bizarre,” she scoffed. “Some people really have too much time on their hands.”

“You’re telling me,” I muttered.

“So, why are you so invested in this?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, I can tell just by the way that you talk about it that it really means a lot to you.”

“It was my grandfather’s dream first,” I explained. “The ship actually belonged to our ancestor, and he spent his life looking for it. He passed the torch onto me before he died.”

“That’s really lovely.” She smiled at me. “It’s nice to see someone pursuing their passion like that. You don’t see it often nowadays. People just go through the motions and do the bare minimum.”

“Thanks.” I grinned at her. “Most people just look at me like I’m a weirdo for being obsessed with pirate ships.”

“Well, those people are boring,” she retorted. “People shouldn’t worry so much about what others think. We only have one life, you know? Better spend it doing what makes us happy.”

“I like that,” I replied as I churned her words over in my head.

She opened her mouth as if to say something to me, but before she could, the plane’s intercom system crackled to life as the captain announced our imminent descent into Turks and Caicos.

“What did he say?” Holm asked as he pulled his headphones off of his ears. “Are we landing?”

“Yeah,” I replied, unable to keep the disappointment completely out of my voice. It seemed as though every time Olivia and I started to get somewhere, we were interrupted.

I’d just have to carve some time out for us while we were on the island.

11

Ethan

My first impression of Turks and Caicos was that it wasn’t unlike Miami. It was hot, it was crowded, and I could smell the salt in the air.

The beaches definitely seemed cleaner, though. That wasn’t to say that Miami’s beaches were ugly or anything, but it honestly wasn’t all that uncommon to stumble across a broken beer bottle, or a pile of trash left behind by careless tourists. The sand along the shore here seemed uniformly pristine and almost spotless, despite the large number of people milling around. The water, too, was stunningly bright and clear, even from a distance.

We’d landed at Providenciales International Airport on the Western Island. Providenciales, commonly referred to as Pravo by the locals, comprised the Western, Northern, and Eastern Caicos islands. Southern Caicos was home to the large, densely populated Cockburn Town, but since the boat owner was located on the Western island, we’d decided to center our investigation there for now. For that reason, our first destination was the police station in Kew Town, in Western Caicos.

“We should drop off our stuff first,” Olivia hummed as she looked around the pickup area. Dozens of tour guides and taxi drivers lined up outside the exit, offering their services to people as they left the airport. “Unless we want to start chasing bad guys with all of our luggage in tow.”

“That’s a good idea,” I replied. “How far is it?”

“Not far at all,” Olivia answered. “Actually, the island is so small that nothing is all that far from anything else. According to the GPS, we could walk from one end of the island to the other in less than six hours. The hotel’s only about ten minutes from here.”

“Let’s go then,” I replied as I slung my bag over my shoulder.

The scenery was beautiful as we made the short trek over to the hotel. I could see the ocean from the street we were on, which was lined with palm trees and bright green plants with enormous leaves. Though most of the houses were painted in shades of white, every once in a while, we’d pass one that was a bright shade of banana yellow or canary blue. Everything on the island seemed extremely colorful and fresh.

“This is it,” Olivia announced as we came to a stop in front of a large green building. I’d been so absorbed in the scenery that I’d barely noticed the time pass.

As we stepped into the hotel, a blast of cool air from the AC hit me. The inside of the hotel looked a little like the lobby of an apartment building, and I wondered if it had been converted from one.

“Why don’t we meet back here in fifteen?” I proposed. “That’ll give us time to put our stuff down and freshen up.”

“Good idea,” Olivia replied as we stepped onto the elevator. We’d all gotten rooms on the same floor. Unlike the plane seats, that had been deliberate, as it would be safer for all of us to be close by just in case anything went wrong during the case.

We got off of the elevator and headed into our rooms, which were side by side on one side of the hall. Holm had the room to my right, while Olivia had the one to my left.

I didn’t have enough time to shower, so I settled for splashing some water on my face. Though the weather here felt similar to Miami’s, it was definitely hotter on the island, and even the short walk from the airport to the hotel had left me sweating.

After doing one last check to make sure I had all the essentials, namely my gun, my badge, and a few sets of handcuffs, I headed downstairs to meet up with Holm and Olivia.

“Last one to the party again, Marston,” Olivia teased when she saw me. She and Holm had already made it down.

“It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes,” I countered.

“Well, I can’t sit still,” she replied. “Come on, let’s get to the station already.”

The three of us headed out of the hotel and back onto the street. The difference between the cool interior of the hotel and the sun-baked street was palpable.

“The police station is right over here,” Olivia muttered as she looked up the directions on her phone. “Let’s just hurry and get this over with.”

“What