“We need to find her immediately. The message warns of danger.”
“The question is, how recent is this message?” Aaron mused. “Ocean currents can carry objects for months, sometimes years.”
Everyone turned to look at Leo Cartwright, who had been quietly observing from the corner of the room.
“Mr. Cartwright,” Aaron asked, “in your experience, can you estimate how long this bottle might have been in the water?”
The fisherman scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“Hard to say for certain. The bottle isn’t heavily weathered or covered in barnacles, which suggests it hasn’t been adrift too long. But ocean currents around the Bahamas are complex. The Antillean Current or eddies from the Gulf Stream could have carried it from almost anywhere in the region.”
“What about these location clues?” Elena pressed. “Red rocks and horseshoe bay. Do those sound familiar to you?”
“Many of our cays have unique geological features,” Cartwright replied. “Some have reddish rocks from iron deposits. As for horseshoe bays, there are several scattered throughout the Exumas and outer islands. Without more specific landmarks, it would take weeks to check them all.”
“We don’t have weeks,” Elena said firmly. “If Kona is being held by drug traffickers, she’s in immediate danger.”
Detective Delgado turned to Officer Wilson.
“What resources can the Bahamian authorities provide for a search operation?”
“We’ll coordinate with our drug enforcement units,” Wilson replied. “They’re familiar with known trafficking routes and hideouts. But I should caution you, if this message has been adrift for some time, the location may no longer be accurate. Traffickers move frequently to avoid detection.”
Elena’s eyes returned to the postscript.
“What about this final clue? The red light only blinks on Thursdays. That has to mean something specific.”
Aaron checked his watch.
“Today is Thursday. If this is referring to some kind of signal or marker that’s only visible on Thursdays, then we might have just this 1 chance to locate it.”
The Interpol officer checked his watch.
“It’s already mid-afternoon. If this light is some kind of signal visible after dark, then we need to be in position before sunset.”
“I’ve contacted our marine units,” Officer Wilson said. “They’re preparing boats for the search operation, but they’re currently deployed on another mission. It will take several hours to recall them and get them in position.”
“We don’t have several hours,” Elena insisted, her voice rising with urgency. “If this is our only chance to find my daughter, we need to move now.”
After a brief conference among the officers, they agreed to a compromise. Detective Delgado would take Elena and 2 officers in the sea plane to conduct an initial survey of Norman’s Cay, while Leo Cartwright would follow in his boat with additional support. The Bahamian authorities would deploy their official vessels as soon as they became available.
“We’ll maintain radio contact at all times,” Aaron instructed as they prepared to leave. “If anyone spots anything suspicious, you observe only. No engagement until proper backup arrives.”
Elena nodded, though her mind was already racing ahead to the possibility of finally finding her daughter.
As they left the conference room, the Interpol liaison approached her with a satellite phone.
“Take this,” he said, handing her the device. “It has direct access to our command center. If you find anything, anything at all, call immediately.”
“Thank you,” Elena replied, tucking the phone securely into her pocket.
As they headed toward the sea plane dock, Elena felt a strange mix of emotions washing over her. For 10 years, she had lived with grief and uncertainty. Now, for the 1st time in a decade, she had something concrete to hold on to, her daughter’s words, proof of life. But that knowledge came with its own terror. Kona was out there, possibly in danger, and the clock was ticking.
The sea plane engines roared to life as Elena settled into her seat, clutching the evidence bag containing Kona’s message. Outside the window, the sun was already beginning its westward descent. In a few hours, it would be dark, and somewhere in the vastness of the Bahamian archipelago, a red light might start to blink.
The sea plane touched down on the crystal-clear waters near Norman’s Cay 2 hours after leaving Nassau. As they taxied toward the small dock, Elena scanned the shoreline, searching for any sign of the clues mentioned in Kona’s message. The island appeared peaceful, with a few small boats moored in the harbor and a handful of tourists visible on the beach.
“It’s quieter than usual,” Aaron observed as they secured the sea plane. “Tourism is down this time of year.”
A local police officer met them at the dock. The Bahamian authorities had radioed ahead to coordinate their arrival. After brief introductions, Aaron divided them into small teams to question locals and survey the island without drawing too much attention.
“Remember, we’re looking for anything unusual,” he reminded them. “Remote structures, unfamiliar boats, anyone who seems out of place.”
Elena partnered with Aaron, and they began making their way through the small settlement, showing Kona and Daniel’s photos to shopkeepers and residents.
No 1 recognized either of them.
“Nothing,” Elena said after 4 hours of fruitless questioning. “No 1 has seen them.”
Aaron checked his watch.
“The others are reporting the same. Let’s regroup at the dock.”
The various teams converged at their meeting point, all with the same disappointing news. No sign of Kona or Daniel, and no recognition from any of the locals.
The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, casting a golden glow across the water.
“What now?” Elena asked, frustration edging her voice.
Aaron studied the nautical chart they had brought.
“We need to decide, north or south from here.”
Leo Cartwright had arrived in his boat during their canvassing and joined the discussion.
“South makes more sense to me,” the old fisherman said. “That would take us toward Shroud Cay, where I found the bottle.”
Elena nodded, the logic resonating with her instincts.
“South then.”
As they prepared to board their respective vessels, Elena paused, something catching her eye in the sand near the water’s edge. She bent down and brushed away the surface layer, revealing what appeared to be a small colorful bead partially buried. With trembling fingers, she dug it out completely.
A handmade ankle bracelet with distinctive blue and turquoise beads.
Elena’s breath caught in her throat.
