Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries) by A.W. Hartoin

with a half cup of conditioner. Todd, the Land’s End dad, was the last to arrive and we all walked down to the beach behind the golf carts. Colin patted my rear three times and smacking his hand only seemed to encourage him. I was starting to wear down my teeth from grinding them so much. To distract myself, I asked Lucia if she had her inhaler. She did, but it was her last one. I didn’t like that. She had no idea where the other one went. My guess was over the side of the boat, because her other inhaler and wallet hadn’t turned up in her room and that was worrisome. Graeme wouldn’t take Lucia’s wallet. What would be the point? Her money was his and vise versa.  
    Alex the captain took us out to Pablo’s Place, a dive spot known for great coral and lobsters. The boat skipped over waves as the wind picked up and I yawned.  
    “Tired?” asked Todd.  
    “Just a little,” I said.  
    “So’s Tracy. Not sleeping well on the hotel bed.”  
    Frankie leaned forward. “Maybe they can switch out the mattress. Ours is great.”  
    Linda nodded and braided her long hair. “I’m sleeping like a rock.”  
    Alex turned the boat and we all leaned to the right. Then he cut the engine and we coasted to a stop. Mauro went around helping with gear and stopped in front of me, so close my chest brushed his BCD.  
    “I’ve checked everything,” he said.  
    “Twice?” I asked.  
    “Three times. No worries today.”  
    We queued and the line went fast. Lucia and Graeme were in first. She had no fear and I admired her for it. From my point of view, she had a lot to be fearful of. On that dive there was no lead rope and we all deflated our BCDs to descend together. The spot was beautiful but different than our previous dive areas. The coral was larger with lots of fanciful formations and big schools of colorful fish darting around them. We descended to forty feet and began to spread out. Mauro clinked on his tank and the sharp metallic sound echoed through the water. He made the sign for turtle and everyone got out their cameras. It was a hawksbill, if I remembered the dive book pictures correctly. The shell was at least two feet across with a jagged section at the back.  
    Mauro clinked again and made the sign for shark. Five feet from the turtle was a nurse shark lying on the sandy bottom between two walls of blue and yellow coral. He was maybe nine feet in length and reminded me of a catfish with its broad head. Mauro indicated that we should spread out and look for seahorses among the coral. Lucia was to my right, swimming behind Graeme. He pointed to some tall formations of coral, the kind that looks like crusty old vases. Around them were lots of fan coral, black and red, and brain coral that always made me want to touch its lovely swirls and grooves.  
    I followed Graeme and Lucia into the coral maze and we spent fifteen minutes looking before Graeme found a little yellow seahorse hanging on a fan coral branch. He had a long snout and spines running down his back. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was so small and delicate, the size of my little finger.
    Lucia took a picture and then swam deeper into the maze. I tore myself away to follow. There was a tug on my foot. Mauro gave me the okay sign and I gave it back. He asked how much air I had left. Plenty. Over fifteen hundred PSI. I turned back to where Lucia had gone and saw her drop down between the edge of the dropoff and a large area of brain coral. Lucia emerged again, twisting in the water, a cloud of red around one thigh. I darted over, my knees scraping the coral. Her hands were on her thigh. A shaft of white stuck out from between her fingers.  
    I yelled through my reg, “Don’t take it out.” But she yanked it out anyway and dropped it. I got a glimpse before it disappeared into the depths, a five-inch serrated piece of bone. Lucia shot up, headed for the surface through a cloud of red. I held her foot. She’d give herself the bends.