a thing and I said so.
“It’s a small island and the horses can do tremendous damage, grazing the dunes. The herd here is already too big, but no one wants to cull them. This seemed like a good compromise. Give them PZP.”
“PZP?” I asked.
“Porcine zona pellucida. It’s an immunocontraceptive vaccine.” Rosemary sighed. “Anyway, there are a number of island residents who are vehemently opposed to this vaccination. They feel we should be leaving things to nature.”
“Only nature never envisioned horses on this island,” said Darcy. “The Spanish released some horses in the 1500s on the much bigger island to the north of us and now the herd there numbers about two hundred or so. Right, Rosemary?”
It was interesting seeing Darcy’s technique to draw Rosemary into the conversation, but it seemed to work. Her eyes had come afire and she was tracing her hands through the air to punctuate what she was saying. “That island is big enough to accommodate the horses. But this island is too small. They figure the horses got here in the first place by swimming across the channel. No other way they could have come. So now it is crucial to preserve island habitat. The horses are considered exotic or weed species that are not endemic to the area. But that doesn’t seem to matter to some of the islanders.”
“Is that where you got your black eye?” It just came out of my mouth without warning.
She swivelled to look at me and said in a clipped tongue, “I thought I told you it was my cabin door.” End of conversation.
chapter four
Rosemary ate in silence, and when she was finished she got up without a word, nodded her head at me, and went to join the man reading the gossip rag. Darcy and Martha were deep in conversation about something, so I finished my meal and thought about getting up for some more. At that moment the screen door of the mess room squeaked open and Stacey walked in, or rather staggered. She was sweating copiously and her face was an unhealthy pasty grey. I wondered how she had managed the stairs with her gimpy leg and her excess pounds. She looked like a heart attack waiting to happen. She surveyed the room in what I can only describe as controlled panic. Hiding something, but not very successfully. She remained standing at the door and said, “May I have your attention, please?” The buzz of conversation slowly petered out, as she accepted a glass of water from Darcy, who had darted out of his seat to help her.
“As you all know, we enjoy the use of these research facilities because of the islanders. As director of this research facility, I must remind you that if we lose their trust we lose this station. The islanders voted for the vaccination of the horses, and for this reason we must support that decision and help Wyatt and Rosemary do their job.”
Who was Wyatt? I wondered.
Stacey continued. “It has come to my attention that someone among you has tried to sabotage the vaccine.”
The room had gone quiet, the way a room can when those in it have all been accused of a crime. What a time to be visiting the island, I thought.
“Can you tell us the details?” asked David.
Stacey looked around and sighed. “Apparently, some of the vaccine has gone missing. Is a Dr. Wyatt Sinclair here?” I followed her gaze around the room. A man sitting at the far back gestured with his hand. He was, for lack of a better word, an impressive looking man, with a head of wildly thick white hair that cascaded over half of his very expansive forehead and accented the startling blue of his eyes. He exuded a self-confidence that was apparent even before he spoke. He rose to his feet, laughed a hollow laugh, and said, “Will the perpetrator please stand up now so that we can get on with our job?”
No one stood up. “Worth a try,” he said, but the way he had said it left no doubt that he wanted his vaccine back. “Seriously, someone had the gall to let themselves into my cabin yesterday and steal a bottle of vaccine that was on my desk. This is totally unacceptable, and I need it back.” He scanned the room, his face unreadable, and then suddenly he smiled, a charming cat-in-the-cream sort of smile, at Stacey, who had a queer look on her face, as if she was going to be sick.
“Why are you singling us out for sabotage? I mean, there are islanders who don’t want this to happen.” The deep, guttural voice came from the dark-haired man sitting beside Rosemary.
Wyatt bowed to Stacey. Stacey hesitated, her face quickly suffused with blood and her eyes clouded. The confusion on her face was intriguing.
“I am aware of that, Sam,” she finally said in a quiet voice. “But the easiest route is usually the correct route, and all of us here in this room would have an easier time sabotaging the vaccine than any islander.”
The buzz of conversation that followed this comment was cut short by Stacey, who said in a tight, pained voice that matched her face, “You know who you are, and when you are caught we will prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.” As she hurriedly turned toward the kitchen her face seemed to collapse in on itself as if the weight of the world was just too much. She seemed so alone and vulnerable. I wondered if she counted any of the people present as her friend. She seemed like she could use one.
Darcy interrupted my thoughts to say that he and Martha would be back in a minute; he had to show her something before showing us to our cabin. It never ceased to amaze me at how fast Martha could make friends, and have them eating out of her hands. But I’d had about enough excitement for one day and they were gone longer than I wanted. Finally, Darcy led Martha and me back into the no-see-ums, down the stairs, and then over to a little cabin tucked in between two honking big live oaks. Martha was lugging her huge suitcase behind her and was breathing heavily by the time we got to the cabin. It was even tinier than it looked. There was just enough room for two beds and a night table, one chest of drawers, a desk, and a chair. No washroom. As if reading my mind, Darcy, who was standing in the doorway, said, “They skimped on the bathrooms. The woman’s is one over from the mess stairs.” He laughed. “Just don’t get the trots.”
Martha rolled her eyes as Darcy pushed past us, plunked himself down on one of the beds, and bounced up and down. “At least the mattresses in this cabin are okay.” Which gave me visions of lumpy pretzel mattresses that sagged and smelled in some of the other cabins. I wondered who got those.
“So what’s all this about the vaccine being stolen?” I asked.
“Tempest in a teapot. Wyatt probably just misplaced it. Or maybe he didn’t bring as much as he thought he had. It’ll quiet down. It always does.”
He got up from the bed and I wondered why he seemed so sure — or was he? He actually seemed a bit too glib. And what was this always does all about?
“Is Wyatt a regular?” I asked.
Darcy laughed. “No, he’s here on a working vacation. He’s a first timer angling to be a last timer, judging by his attitude. He’s not a researcher and he likes to make that pretty clear. He’s a prickly guy, always complaining about something. And he and Jayne are always goading each other.”
“Who’s Jayne?” I asked.
“She’s our turtle lady. Does research on sea turtles. She used to be the director until she retired and Stacey took over. Everybody said it was because Jayne burned out. Too bad really — at least for Jayne. I think she genuinely liked being director.”
“And Stacey doesn’t?”
He
