Free Balefire by Barrett Page A

cayes was transporting large purchases out to the island. Fuel was expensive, and even pricier if they had to order from the states. Diane and Mark, his best customers, depended on him to pick up orders of fresh produce and meat.
    Kirin leaned back to welcome the salt spray and wind in her face as the boat rose up and skidded across the waves. The route back would be more direct since she had taken more pictures than she needed. Her data would be plenty for one very long article or two shorter ones. Plus, Diane had promised to give her some time for an interview and pictures of their resort. If her luck held out, she might get to the private island resort before she flew out on Saturday. In spite of the rocky beginning, this might be a very profitable trip.
    Once they cleared the shoreline and turned northeast, Kenrick mo tioned to her. She made her way forward.
    “Would you like to drive her a little bit?” he shouted.
    She was stunned that he would even offer. She grinned. “You bet!”
    He described the instruments, pointed out their direction, and then stepped to his right. She gripped the large chrome steering wheel and felt the power of those twin engines vibrating. Within minutes, she felt com fortable with the power and accustomed to the bumps as they smacked the small waves in their path. As they passed near tiny uninhab ited islands, he cautioned her to keep a watchful eye for anything sticking out of the water.
    Forty-five minutes later, Kirin tired from holding on to the bucking boat. She pointed to the wheel, and Kenrick nodded with a big smile. She slid down on the bench.
    During the last twenty-four hours, she had absorbed an overwhelm ing mountain of disturbing information. The idea that the individuals who provided elegant meals, clean sheets, fast boats, and fancy fishing expedi tions actually lived in third world conditions might tarnish those glamorous tropical adventures. She knew most tourists skipped the im poverished areas by design. Never look behind the curtain, it might spoil the illusion.
    In her heart, this was the kind of journalism she had always wanted to write. This could be her chance.
    Kenrick steered the boat northward, and she let her mind wander as the sunlight danced on the surface of the turquoise water. Brightly colored restaurants, shops, and hotels dotted the sandy shore as they sped past. No more thinking , tomorrow will sort itself out . Her only goals were a long shower and a cold drink. The distant sight of the now familiar thatched casitas and long pier was a welcome one.
    After tying up his boat, Kenrick followed Kirin to the condo for his well-deserved salary.
    As they walked by the main buildings and pool, Kirin noticed the mu sic. “Sounds like a party. Do you think they’re celebrating our return?”
    He laughed. “No, I don’t think so. I think probably the people are hap py because tonight is the regular Belizean celebration.”
    “What’s that?” Kirin stopped, curious.
    He waved toward staff covering the poolside tables. “They serve a buf fet with all the local specialties. They also get local groups to play Garifuna music. It’s very good, you should go.” His eyes twinkled above his gapped-tooth smile. Another Belizean proud of his heritage.
    It sounded like fun, but she wasn’t sure she had the energy to walk back after she got to the condo. “I’ll see how I feel after a long hot shower. Aren’t you going to stay?”
    He actually blushed. “No, my lady is waiting for me.” He winked and waved goodbye.
     
    Chapter Nine
 
    “RIGHT OVER HERE.” Mark had his arm around Silke and pushed her to a round table near the bar. There was no room to use her cane be cause of the crush of people. “Bren and Katie made me promise to bring you over as soon as you arrived.”
    “Thank you,” Silke said. “I’m sure I would’ve made it but I do appreci ate your chivalry.”
    The deck around the pool was crowded with small tables, each cov ered with a