Deep in the forest, the only sound was the steady beat of the native drums.
All of nature was reverently silent as the men and women in colorful sarongs moved sinuously around the young woman. She knelt, with her head bowed down, on a cushion of palm fronds in the center of the circle. The drummers punctuated the rhythm as the dancers swayed in time to the beat. Once they completed the third revolution, the drumming stopped.
The High Priest, wearing a tunic of finely tanned leather, and the Shaman, dressed in crude animal skins, stepped into the circle and bid the girl to raise her head. The High Priest bowed and handed a small pouch to the Shaman, the direct descendant of the ancestral great Shaman, and stepped back.
The Shaman raised the bag for all to behold, then ceremoniously turned away from the girl to face the dancers and other tribe members. After softly whispering a chant over the pouch, he reached in and produced a silver pendant, simple in style but finely crafted. The Shaman slowly turned in a circle with his hands raised, holding the necklace for all to see.
As the Shaman approached the girl, she stood and turned her back to him. He placed the necklace around her neck, being careful to secure the delicate clasp. The High Priest stepped forward to face the girl and made a sign with his hands. He recited an ancient chant, after which the girl responded with a nod. The High Priest then asked the girl to face the tribe. The tribespeople chanted an approval.
Thus, the traditional ceremony was finished, and a new shaman had been declared. The drumming resumed, much softer than before, slowly fading to an inaudible pulse as the circle of dancers dispersed into the tropical forest. Slowly, the life sounds of the tropical forest resumed their natural levels.
* * *
Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda
“Getting here reminds me of a line from a song—something about ‘trains and boats and planes,’” said Julia.
“I hope we don’t have to get on a train,” said her sister Carly. “I seriously doubt they have one on this small island anyway. Taking three planes and the island ferry from St. Thomas was enough for me.”
Julia smiled. It had been a long day made longer by a flight delay on the last leg from San Juan to St. Thomas. “At least we didn’t miss this ferry ride. I was seriously sweating that final late departure getting here. This is the last ferry of the day into Virgin Gorda.”
“One of us has good karma, fortunately,” said Carly, smirking at her sister. “Who did you say is meeting us here?”
“Antonio, I believe, or his wife, Rita. The email said it depended on his work schedule.”
The sisters pulled their carry-on luggage down the ramp to a concrete pier, where most everyone either walked to an adjacent parking lot and got into a car or were greeted by someone with a hug and kiss. There didn’t seem to be anyone left over who could be either of their bed-and-breakfast hosts.
Carly turned to her slightly older sister and sighed loudly. “You were saying? Are you sure about the plan for picking us up?”
Julia groaned and pulled out her phone to check the details. Her eyes lit up and she nodded. “I’m sure. Maybe we arrived a little early. Let’s chill for a few minutes and wait. I see a bench over there.”
“I’m impressed you actually got here with a single carry-on, Julia. I had my doubts when you said you could do it, even though it was a great idea.”
“‘O ye of little faith,’” she said, scoffing. “Basically, I hate dealing with lost luggage, and there’s always that chance, especially with two plane transfers along the way. Besides, we didn’t have to pack half a dozen costumes this trip.”
“And two or three sets of tap and jazz shoes. Do we have a schedule for the week? Or will this be a real vacation like you promised?”
Julia cringed. Their last girls’ vacation in Paris had turned into a detective story when Julia and Carly had helped the Paris gendarmes find a murderer to keep Julia’s long-distance beau, Josh, out of jail. “We will be footloose and fancy-free here. At least that’s my plan.”
“Miss Fairchild? Miss Pedersen?” A nice-looking man with dark, gray-tinged hair and a beautiful smile approached them. “I am Antonio. Welcome to Virgin Gorda.”
Julia turned to Carly. “And the fun begins.”
* * *
Saturday
“‘Come with me to Virgin Gorda,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ she said.” Carly dropped her daypack, plopped down on a boulder, and wiped her brow with a damp bandana. “What’s so special about this beach anyway?” she asked as she pulled out her water bottle. “The heat here is suffocating. I need one of those proverbial trade winds right now.”
Julia scanned the horizon, then checked the local tourist map, noting the visible landmarks. She admitted to herself, though not aloud to Carly, that the heat did feel rather miserable, especially compared to their normally cool and moist Pacific Northwest. “We’re getting closer. Antonio said it was well worth the walk because it’s less crowded than some of the other beaches. He said we might even find some sea glass.”
“What’s so special about sea glass? I’ve never heard of it.”
Julia sighed dreamily. “A few years back I read a book about a young girl who was married but spent most of her time alone because her husband was gone a lot on a fishing boat. They lived on the coast somewhere in New England. Anyway, she took long walks along the beach and picked up the pretty pieces of glass that she found.”
“Okay, but what is it?”
“I was getting to that. Sea glass is created from ordinary glass that has been in the water for a long time, like from broken bottles on ships. It changes color to soft greens and blues as it’s polished by the water and sand. I’m not sure why that intrigues me, but I like to look for it. When I visited my friend Judy in Los Gatos last time, we found some when we were beachcombing at Santa Cruz. We even met a young lady who was collecting it to use in jewelry-making. I ended up giving most of mine to her, because she had a small child and a dog with her. I thought it might be her only source of income.”
“That was nice of you.”
“Thank you. I still wanted some to keep for myself, so we went back the next day and found a little more. That’s what’s in the vintage cut glass bowl in my kitchen window.”
“So that’s what those rocks are. I wondered when I saw them last time I was at your house. Back to looking for the beach here. Are you sure we’re heading to the right one?” Carly guzzled again from her bottle, then stood and struck a theatrical pose with her hand to her ear. “Hark! I hear the ocean now and it’s not very far away.”
Julia pretended to punch her silly sister, then joined Carly as they trudged their way farther down the trail through the dry, Caribbean terrain. A hundred yards farther, Carly stopped and held out her arm. “Wait.”
“Do you see something? Are we there?” Julia stepped past her sister to see for herself. She glimpsed the tranquil water of the Caribbean Sea straight ahead. “There it is! It’s beautiful. I love that turquoise color.” She snapped a few photos for her expanding collection of travel pictures.
“But what about that?” Carly pointed off to the right. “I hope that’s not a … person.”
Julia slinked up to a large boulder with something strewn across it. Flies buzzed around a body lying on top of a huge, flat rock. “Oh, no!” She didn’t need her medical degree to know this woman was dead.
“Julia, what do we do?”
Already Julia was fumbling through her beach bag. “No cell service here,” Julia said, after checking her phone. “Well, let's document what we found to give to the authorities.” She took photos of the body from several angles. The small woman had long dark hair and was mostly clad, but her clothing was torn. She was barefoot. “This looks like a costume of some kind, maybe for a performance or dance. I don’t think she’s older than her late teens." Julia sighed. "It breaks my heart when young people die. Did you know that’s why I didn’t go into pediatrics?”
“I understand. I love kids, but I’m sure it’s hard to take care of little ones with awful diseases like cancer. I don’t know how pediatricians do what they do." Carly reached out to pat her sister on the arm. “Anyway, her dress reminds me of the harem girl costumes we wore when we performed that dance from Aladdin. She even has one of those jewels on her forehead.” She shook her head sadly. “I’ll look for her shoes.”
Julia scanned the immediate area for anything that might belong to the young woman. She caught a flash of something shiny a couple of feet away, mostly hidden by the thick foliage. A small, silver pendant on a fragile chain shone in the sunlight. She used a tissue to pluck it from the base of the aloe-like shrub. She held it up and let it dangle in front of her face to determine what it might be. It had a dark red gemstone on the front with what looked like a religious image of some kind on the back, though she didn’t recognize the saint it depicted.
“Hey, look at this. I’m pretty sure it’s not Saint Christopher. I wonder who it is. The pendant is heavier than the medallions I saw in Rome a few years back. It also has an inscription on the back.” She squinted but couldn’t make out the minuscule lettering. “I don’t think it’s Latin. Maybe it’s a native language.” She took several photos, thinking that there was probably a Catholic Church in Spanish Town with a priest who might be able to identify it.
Carly emerged from behind a short palm tree with gigantic fronds and peeked at it. “I don’t have a clue. Maybe it represents someone special to the local people.” She motioned for Julia to follow her and pointed to a small slipper that was almost hidden under the scrub. “I didn’t touch it. I knew better.”
Julia took several photos at different angles before using another tissue to retrieve the silver slipper. The dainty shoe had a curled-up toe and reminded Julia of footwear from Arabia or the Far East. She sighed as she carefully placed it, along with the pendant, in the side pocket of her pack and zipped it closed. “Too bad this slipper can’t tell us what happened.”
Carly said, “Well, so much for a fun day at the beach.” She picked up her gear for the trek back.
“We’ll need to find the police station in town and report this so they can pick up our Jane Doe,” said Julia.
“Could you tell how long she might have been on that rock?”
“I’m not very good at estimating time of death, but I’m guessing she likely died within the past twenty-four hours. I didn’t see evidence of major deterioration, which would almost certainly happen a lot faster here with this heat.”
The sisters were unusually quiet as they retraced their steps to the trailhead, where they mounted the scooters they had borrowed from their host.
* * *
As they walked back, Julia strode ahead and began second-guessing her trip with her sister, knowing she had promised Carly that this would be their own special fun time. She certainly hadn't intended for them to get involved in anything somber. After all, Julia Fairchild, M.D., and her younger sister Carly Pedersen had traveled to Virgin Gorda purely for a vacation. Julia had promised to treat Carly to a girls-only trip after previous misadventures in Amsterdam and Paris. She had arranged a stay in a bed-and-breakfast with a lovely host couple who lived on the southwest side of the island, not far from Spanish Town. Other than taking time to explore the beaches, doing a bit of snorkeling and going on a few hikes, their time was absolutely unscheduled.
For Julia, a popular, busy internist in a medium-sized town, having totally free time was surreal. Carly’s job in the accounting office at a large paper mill had its own share of stress, like when it was time to make payroll every two weeks. Or tax time. Or when there were union negotiations with extra requests for reports. It hadn’t taken much to persuade her to join her sister and get away.
They had grown up with two more sisters and two brothers on a small farm, but had lost sisters number one and three. Those losses served to bond Julia and Carly even more closely together. Carly had been Julia’s favorite little sister since childhood. They now treasured the time they got to spend with each other as adults, a few adventures here and there notwithstanding.
Taller, with blue eyes and brunette hair, Julia had been single since a short marriage right out of college, and periodically swore off men. She knew that her life as a physician was intimidating for a lot of guys. When other women her age might take a vacation with their spouses, Julia looked forward to time away with her sister, but now, this unfortunate event.
Julia felt a hand slip into hers and she looked back. Carly was smiling at her, obviously recognizing what her sister was feeling. “Somehow I think Rob won’t be surprised,” she said, giving Julia a little nudge. Carly, with her golden hair and hazel eyes, was married to a sweet man, Rob, who worked as an electrician at the same mill as his wife. He was cool about fending for himself when the sisters went off for girl-time. He had become familiar with the unusual adventures the two sisters had. Julia couldn't help but smile at her sister’s attempt to make her feel better.
* * *
A couple of hours later, just before two o’clock, Julia and Carly presented themselves at the police station in Spanish Town. Once Julia had explained the reason for their visit, they were immediately ushered into the office of the chief of police. A large ceiling fan rotated slowly, pushing the warm air gently around the room. The windows were open to the outside but had heavy iron grids keeping bad guys out (or in?). The air smelled stale in the smallish room, despite the moving air.
They sat in two uncomfortable metal chairs facing a massive wood desk and a wall of certificates in simple, black document frames. A tallish, slender man with a thick shock of dark hair and a mustache à la Tom Selleck entered through a second door at the rear of the room.
“Hello, ladies. My name is Magnus Hawke. I’m the police chief in this region of the island. And you are?”
“Julia Fairchild,” said Julia, offering her hand. “And my sister Carly Pedersen,” who did the same.
“Welcome to our island.” He smiled and sat down in the well-worn leather chair behind the desk. “I understand you made a discovery earlier today.”
“Here are photos that I took of a young lady near the beach where we hiked,” said Julia, handing him her phone. “Unfortunately, she was dead, but probably not for very long.” She explained the location and gave him the necklace and shoe. “We didn’t find a second shoe.”
He looked at the photos for a couple of minutes. “I see. I had my sergeant check the missing persons list before I came into the room. He said he didn’t see anyone who would fit this description, but that isn’t unusual. We find that families often wait an extra day, thinking their daughter stayed overnight with friends or something like that.” He handed the phone to Julia and leaned back in the chair.
“What about the clothes she’s wearing? It seemed unusual that she would be dressed in what looks like a costume,” said Julia.
“I guess it would depend on when she disappeared. She could have been dressed this way on Friday night, for example, and just happened to be found on Monday, as you say.”
Julia nodded. “Are you able to do DNA testing here?”
“Not locally. We would send the evidence to a lab in San Juan, Puerto Rico. But in all likelihood, someone will be filing a missing person report soon and then we will know who she is. We’ll retrieve the remains and wait for the appropriate person to claim her.” He smiled confidently, as if the conversation were concluded.
“And,” Julia couldn’t help but ask, “find out how she died?”
“Of course. I’ll arrange for an autopsy. Things don’t happen quickly here, however. There’s probably a simple enough explanation; we don’t get many murders.”
He stood, signaling an end to the discussion. Julia shared the photos and her contact information with the desk sergeant before leaving the building.
“He didn’t seem very upset about our finding a dead person,” said Carly as they walked to their scooters.
“He was quite complacent. Maybe it’s an everyday occurrence.” Julia shrugged.
“I don’t think so. He said murders were rare here.”
“Well, we’ve done our citizen’s duty. Let’s check with Antonio and Rita and plan something for tomorrow.”
* * *
Julia and Carly sat with their hosts on the palm-shaded patio overlooking the azure Caribbean waters. Tropical birds flitted through the trees and chattered loudly like a serenade of sorts as they finished the evening meal. Fragrant flowers of yellow and red bougainvillea and hibiscus added a colorful backdrop.
The house itself was on the small side, set on a large beachfront lot at the edge of a tropical forest. With trees on two sides of the patio, the house on a third, and the open side facing the water, it felt like they had their own slice of paradise. All the windows were open, shutters at the ready in case of a seasonal storm. Each room had a ceiling fan that moved the air to create refreshing island breezes.
“This fish is delicious! I’d love to know how you prepare it.” Julia took another bite and sat back as she savored the flavors. “I love this fresh fruit salsa and the rice dish, too. I might have to take you back home with me!”
“We didn’t learn anything like this at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris last year,” said Carly. “My husband, Rob, would love this. He catches a lot of salmon and steelhead in the Columbia River.”
Once everyone was finished with the meal, they chatted and watched the sun slowly sink into the water. The birds fell silent almost immediately as the sky started to darken.
“I’m always amazed at how short the twilight is in the Caribbean. Hawaii, too,” said Carly. “At home in the Pacific Northwest, it doesn’t get dark for at least another hour after the sun goes down in the summer.”
Antonio nodded. “Yes, the sun goes down quickly but we can sit out here in the dim light and have a cocktail while I play my guitar and enjoy the peace and quiet of the evening.”
“Especially after those birds settle down,” said Julia. “Is it my imagination or did they get louder just before sunset?”
Rita laughed. “I think they are telling each other all the hot bird news just before they go to sleep. They’ll be chattering again just before sun-up tomorrow.”
“Like the early edition of news on local television back home,” said Julia. “Speaking of news, we need to tell you about finding a young girl at Savannah Bay today.” She launched into a short version of finding the girl, then visiting the police station and the priest.
“Oh, how sad,” said Rita. “I hate hearing stories like that.”
The room was quiet, almost reverent, for a few minutes. Rita seemed especially somber, then she brightened a bit. “Let me refresh those drinks,” she said, rising to pour wine from the decanter.
“You mentioned wanting some ideas for tomorrow,” said Antonio. “I would suggest going to the copper mine on the other side of the island. The view from there is fantastic in every direction. It’s easy to get there on the motorbikes.” He sketched a map on his napkin. “If you go in the morning, you can spend the rest of the day at one of the beaches not far from there.”
“Do you promise we won’t find another body?” asked Carly.
Antonio chuckled. “Just stay away from Dead Chest Island.”
Carly’s eyes opened wide and Rita laughed. “That is simply the name of one of the small islands, my dear. You will love visiting the other side of this island, and I promise you’ll have a great day.”
