Dead Asleep Read Online Free PDF Page B

record. I can’t afford to have him hauled to the mainland to face charges, but if I knew what it was, I’d just sweep it under the rug and call the doctor. What bothers me is that I don’t.” He gave her a pointed look. “And you can believe that I’ve seen it all before, so if I don’t recognize it, then it must be real trouble.” The noise of the car engine whining as it crawled up the steepest part of the hill had grown much louder. Carrow turned his head to listen.
    â€œPlease don’t tell Island Security. Duncan Moore’s an ass. He doesn’t like me and he hates Martin.”
    Emma didn’t respond. Instead she stashed the gun in the credenza’s cabinet and opened the door. A dark green Jeep pulled into the drive with Moore at the wheel. His small vehicle sported three antennas of various lengths and a green logo of dual palm trees bending toward each other with the word security on the side. Moore killed the engine, got out and walked toward them. He wore a short-sleeved sand-colored shirt and dark green cargo shorts. He gave Carrow a curt nod before turning to Emma.
    â€œYou called Security?” he asked. Before she could answer she heard a noise and her name called. She looked over to see Latisha Johnson, the cook, hurrying toward them. Johnson was nearing forty, with thick dark hair that she kept in braids and then wrapped into a bun. She wore a robe and her arms were tightly wrapped around her middle as she approached, holding the robe closed. Latisha looked at each of them, her eyes widening when she recognized Carrow, and then she turned to Emma.
    â€œSomeone broke into the garage. I’m sorry to tell you that they tossed your test tubes on the ground.”
    Emma nodded. “I know. I called Security.” She indicated Moore.
    â€œYou didn’t talk about bottles in a garage,” Moore said. “You said you’d been attacked.”
    The cook sucked in her breath. “What?”
    Emma told her what had happened. When she was done, she noticed that Carrow looked fascinated, Johnson appalled, and that Moore didn’t look as surprised as she would have expected. He exchanged a look with Johnson, whose face had become set.
    â€œIt could have been anyone,” Moore said. “Access to the island is easily accomplished by boat from the mangrove side. The mountain blocks the view of their landing.”
    His response struck Emma as pat, safe. If she had to guess, she would have said he was hiding something. She looked at Carrow, whose return glance was filled with speculation. Then he took a swallow of the liquor and cast a suspicious look at Moore. Clearly, he didn’t buy the man’s explanation either.
    â€œTough to get through the mangrove,” he offered in a mild voice.
    Moore bristled at that. “I just said it was possible. There could be other explanations as well.” Carrow gave a noncommittal shrug, which didn’t seem to mollify the Security man.
    â€œHe appeared to be suffering from some sort of seizure,” Emma said. “His eyes didn’t focus on me, but upward, and his face was contorted in a tic. And I found this in my hallway.” She stepped back and waved Moore and Johnson into the house.
    Johnson gave a low moan. “Oh no, voodoo,” she said, seeing the offering.
    Moore snorted. “This voodoo stuff is getting out of hand. Until recently there was very little on the island.”
    Terra Cay sat in the middle of a row of islands in the Bahamas that reached down toward Puerto Rico. It was an exclusive enclave of the very rich. Access was only available to those who could afford to rent a house or charter a yacht big enough to handle the open water for days on end. The island had only one small hotel and a hundred villas, some of them for rent. Each renter was required to pay for a minimum staff of three people, including a cook. Everything on the island had to be imported,