ISLAND LIFE excerpts
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Stacy chuckled wondering how often a husband falls in
love with his own wife. His parents, his friends back
home, all would talk and tell tall tales until his life
would become a fable; he had gone off into the West Indies
islands and married a beautiful girl to save her money, a
woman who, though she claimed not to be, showed every
evidence of being an alcoholic and was rumored to be a
murderess.
 
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"Fend her off, fend her off!" Hank bellowed and the three
men grabbed pulpits, lifelines, and shrouds to stop the
sailboat that came charging at the dock.
 
With a glance at what looked to be bloodstains on the
foredeck, he turned to the girl who sat at the helm
gripping the wooden spokes with white knuckled hands.
 
"Amanda? Where's Franklin?" Hank looked down the
companionway expecting her husband, the owner of Island
Life Resorts, to appear.
 
"The sharks got him. He fell in... I tried to save him."
 
"Franklin fell overboard?" Hank Bouchard muttered the
words no seaman wants to hear.
 
"They were tearing at him. They grabbed his arms and
legs and wagged their heads."
 
"Amanda! Calm down."
 
"Hank, they... they were so quick, there was no time to
help him. When his screams faded, I knew he was gone."
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At the bank, Wronkle stepped to Melissa's window and laid
a deposit envelope on the counter.
 
She voiced her standard greeting, "Good morning. How may
I help you?" and lifted her eyes to see him looking at her
as if he could read her thoughts.
 
When she set the stack of bills aside and began the
deposit slip, he said, "This may all be mine soon."
 
"How? I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Wronkle." She
tried to look disinterested, but asked herself how he could
possibly expect to take over with the widow alive and well.
Did he have some sort of plan? She knew that after Amanda
he was secondary trustee and heir. Could Richard Wronkle
drive someone to suicide, or even worse, murder someone?
 
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The old engine was bumping down in the bilge and Brooks
was ready to pull the anchor out of the sandy bottom when Amanda
gasped, "Look! A doll floating in the water."
 
Without hesitation, she shouted, "Wait, I'll get it," and
dove over, slicing into the clear water without a splash.
 
Brooks watched her grasp the little black doll and Stacy
heard him mutter, "Dat a voodoo doll an I don't think we
wants her on dis boat."
 
Amanda laughed and named the doll, Mammy, explaining she
looked a lot like the fortune teller in Castries.
 
Brooks put the engine in gear and started the boat out of
the anchorage. The engine was humping away when he called
out, "She's overheating!" and turned it off.
 
"What happened?" Antoinette looked puzzled.
 
Brooks bit his lip and rolled his eyes. "De fan belt
broke. I don't think we should take dat little doll back
to St. Lucia. She voodoo, bad luck, you know."
 
Amanda picked up the doll. "If we throw her over, I'll
be looking for her in every sea I ever sail. Mammy, I'll
take care of you, if you'll take care of me. Okay?"
 
Everyone looked at the little black doll as if
expecting a reply.
 
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Stacy called Melissa that night. "I'm sure Wronkle put
Fast Freddy up to tampering with the brakes. The front
wheels were hanging over the edge when the car stopped."
 
"I warned you, if you were both dead he would get it
all," she whispered into the phone..
 
"When I climbed out my door, the car careened down the
cliff, hit the bottom and exploded. The burned out frame
still lays at the water's edge just north of Soufriere."
 
"When you got out, where was Amanda?"
 
"I had hold her wrist and pulled her out as the car went
over. She was hanging over the cliff when the car tumbled
down into the valley."
 
Stacy Biddle recoiled in disbelief when Melissa shrieked,
 
"Why didn't you drop her?"
 
===================================================
 
When Stacy had reefed the main, Fast Freddy
took the helm from Amanda and worried aloud, "We got to
run off this wind -- sail south. Maybe the hurricane will
go by north of us."
 
Amanda complained, "The winch handle! Stacy, you left the
handle in the winch!" and crawled forward, along the cabin
trunk, to the mast, reckless in her haste.
 
Stacy froze when a wave, driven by the howling winds,
leaped onto the Romarin's deck and carried her over the
side and into the sea.
 
In less than a heartbeat Amanda was gone.