leather couches. A TV nearby was on, turned to a religious station showing Easter services but with the sound on mute. All the cabin windows were closed and doors were secured. There was nothing unusual on the floor, nothing broken or upturned anywhere.
The deputies shouted directly into the cabin. Again, no reply.
They drew their weapons and stepped inside. It was more of the same. Nothing was out of place. They walked through the sitting area to the galley. It, too, was clean. Glasses, plates, bottles—all secured and where they ought to be. The fridge was filled with food and the vessel had plenty of drinking water.
They moved into the sleeping area, half expecting to find a body or two on one of the beds, a murder-suicide perhaps. But everything in the sleeping area was also in order. It was empty, and while there were no wallets or money lying around, everything else was in its place.
This was getting weird. Both deputies were veterans of the sheriff’s marine division. They’d seen a lot of odd things on the job, but nothing like this.
They returned to the rear deck, holstered their weapons and contemplated the situation. There were pirates in these waters, though not the typical kind. They were more like drug addicts and thieves who would board yachts, sometimes in force, and rob the passengers and crew. Most times, they murdered anyone onboard to eliminate witnesses. Coming upon these pirated vessels, though, it was obvious to law enforcement what had happened: Bloodstains, bullet holes in the hull, and signs of a struggle usually told the tale.
But the Mary C looked as normal as any boat at sea could look—except it was empty. Not even any towels on the rear deck to hint the occupants had been lost while swimming.
The deputies climbed up to the bridge to find the steering column had not been set to drive the boat in circles; it had just been left unattended with the yacht’s engines pushed half-speed forward. The radio, located next to the controls, indicated the last message: A call to a recorded weather service had been sent two hours earlier. So the Mary C had been adrift since 6 A.M. or so.
“The Muy Capaz, maybe?” one deputy finally asked.
The Muy Capaz was a gang of Bahamian criminals who attacked luxury boats at sea to get cash and valuables. Their name, Spanish for “very capable,” was a loose indication that, unlike other gangs, they strived to leave behind as few clues as possible whenever they committed a crime. Though pretty much drug-addled and shabby, the Muy Capaz nevertheless had been known to wipe down surfaces for fingerprints and to clean up bloodstains.
But if some kind of crime had taken place on the Mary C, then the boat had not just been wiped down but scrubbed down, sanitized and everything put back in its place with mind-boggling efficiency.
“I’m not sure the ‘Muy Capaz’ is this ‘capaz,’ ” the other deputy replied. “Something else happened here.”
“Like what?”
“Like UFOs? An abduction?”
The first deputy barely smiled.
“Don’t even joke about that,” he said.
* * *
THEY TOWED THE Mary C a mile east, to shallow water, where they dropped its anchor. Then they called the Bimini police, reported what they knew and turned the whole matter over to them.
But no sooner had this been done than the deputies received another call from the Coast Guard. A second boat had been spotted adrift about five miles south of their present position.
Would they please investigate?
* * *
THE DEPUTIES CAME upon the Rosalie fifteen minutes later.
It was a sailboat, sixty-five feet in length, with two masts. A real beauty. It was moving west, a few miles off the Bimini resort of Alice Town. All its canvas was set, but it was obviously drifting.
It took some adept maneuvering by the deputies to catch up and grapple the sailboat. They climbed aboard and immediately lowered the vessel’s sails and tied off the steering wheel. Then they searched it.
Unlike the Mary C, the sailboat did have some life aboard. There were two canaries and a cat inside the cabin. The cat was spooked, though, and hid as soon as the deputies appeared.
The lawmen searched the sailboat stern to bow and back again. Every cabin was empty, but not in disarray. There were no signs of struggle or conflict. As before, there was plenty of food and water onboard, and the fuel tank for the sailboat’s small inboard engine was full.