Bonnie of Evidence - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,68

me a can of bug spray, just in case the spider had been traveling with an extended family. So everyone went to bed happy.

Except me.

I was going to have to tell my husband that I suspected our contest had been infiltrated by a killer who was using his feet as deadly weapons.

“The ferry isn’t scheduled to leave for another half-hour,” Wally continued, “so you’ll have plenty of time to grab a cup of coffee or use the comfort station before we board. And please remain in your seats once we’re parked because Emily has an important announcement to make about the contest.”

Buzzing. Whispers. Distrustful looks from the guests in the seats around me.

“What kind of announcement?” Bill Gordon yelled.

“We’ll be arriving at the harbor in a few minutes, Bill. I suspect you can wait that long to find out.”

I was a bit leery about how people would react to my idea, but Wally was on board, and I was pretty sure Etienne would be on board, too … once I told him, even though he’d probably never heard of Oprah. I would have told him this morning, if our five- minute time limit hadn’t expired before I could get it out.

“Is anyone seeing what I’m seeing in the water over there?” George asked in a disbelieving tone. “What is that? A reef ?”

I looked out the window to see a frothy swell of white water bubbling out of the sea like a tsunami wave, churning and roiling with volcanic intensity. Only, it wasn’t breaking toward shore. It was just staying in the same place, like a permanent gash in the ocean’s surface, bleeding out constant spume and brine.

“I’ve read about this,” Wally enthused, “but this is the first time I’ve seen it with my own eyes. What you’re witnessing, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact point where the Atlantic Ocean encounters the North Sea. There’s no reef. It’s just a friendly meet and greet between two powerful bodies of water.”

“Meet and greet?” questioned George. “Looks more like a full frontal attack to me.”

“Seas might be more choppy today because of the wind,” Wally added, “so if you’re predisposed to motion sickness, I suggest you take a prophylactic before boarding the ferry.”

Snickering. Whispers. Snorts.

“Psst. Emily.” From behind me, Osmond poked his fingers through the divide between the seats to tap my arm. “I got a condom with me, but I don’t get how it’s gonna prevent sea sickness. What am I supposed to do? Wear it, or swallow it?”

I looked heavenward and shook my head. Really? I mean, really?

The harbor at John O’ Groats consisted of a parking lot filled with recreational vehicles and several single-story, whitewashed buildings spread out along a circular drive. After Calum maneuvered the bus into a vacant space and turned off the engine, I joined Wally at the front of the vehicle and took over the microphone, praying all the while for an outcome more favorable than total rebellion.

“Good morning. I thought this might be a good time to tell you about a new wrinkle I’ve decided to add to the contest.”

All eyes were focused on me. Faces conflicted. Mouths stiff.

“I wasn’t anticipating some of the problems we’ve run into, so to thank you for hanging in there with me and taking things in stride, I’m adding a few more prizes to the contest. Instead of giving away one free trip, Destinations Travel will be giving away”—I paused for effect—“five!”

Lips softened. Brows inched upward. Eyes gleamed with disbelief.

“One trip will go to the winning team, and the other four will be awarded to one member of each losing team.” It would cost the agency a fortune, but I figured we could recover more quickly from a one-time output of capital than from the bad publicity that litigation would bring.

Studied silence.

“Are you telling us that you’re chucking the competition?” Tilly asked in a stern voice. “That the geocaching skills we’ve honed over the past few months are being discarded in favor of a mindless and wholly random drawing?”

Uh-oh. I’d expected Bernice to give me flak, but never Tilly. “I wouldn’t have expressed it in exactly those words, but I guess that’s what it all boils down to.” I flashed a self-deprecating smile. “Every team gets a pony.”

She thumped her walking stick on the floor. “Good. Timed events completely unnerve me.”

“Does this mean you’re pulling the plug on the whole operation?” asked George.

“No, no. You can still search for the cache; I’m simply making it less stressful by