bedroom. He looked to be real, flesh and blood. He was there...
Just as quickly as it had ceased to beat, her heart took flight. They’d been wrong. The bone fragments found in the fire had not belonged to Miguel.
Because Miguel was standing right in front of her.
She raced to him, throwing her arms around him. He barely moved in response. She drew back, staring at him. It was Miguel. But...
Something was wrong with him. Something was really wrong.
“Miguel, what—what have they done to you?” she asked.
His eyes were blank as he stared back at her. Then, to her astonishment, he picked her up.
And he walked back out to the balcony without saying a word.
He spoke like Miguel, he smelled like Miguel, he looked like Miguel, but...
She was confused, but her confusion cleared in a split second when she realized his intent, and started to scream.
A bottlenose dolphin leaped majestically out of the water, crystal droplets raining down around it in the morning sun. It splashed as it landed, then appeared almost to fly as it raced around the lagoon, thrusting itself out of the water with the power of its fins and flukes, all the while staring straight at Lara Mayhew. The dolphin emitted a chattering sound, something delightfully akin to laughter.
Lara smiled at the sight and sound of the dolphin, a beautiful female estimated to be about ten years old and named Cocoa. Rick Laramie, the head dolphin trainer, had told Lara on an earlier visit that Cocoa was performing for her and “speaking” to her simply because she had chosen to, that she’d decided she liked Lara. That was fine with Lara. She liked Cocoa, too, and was fascinated by her. Cocoa was one of the facility’s rescue dolphins. She’d been attacked by a shark and been near death when she was brought to Sea Life. Now it seemed she knew she owed her life to the facility. She was as friendly as a family pet. Today Rick was taking her for her first dolphin swim and training experience, and she was glad it was going to be with Cocoa.
Rick hadn’t shown up yet, but Lara knew she was early. She was delighted just to be there, enjoying the sunlight beneath a beautiful blue summer sky, feeling the warmth of the day heat her skin. No one at the facility was up yet, in fact. It was just after six thirty. In another half hour the cooks and cashiers who ran the small café would arrive, and a few minutes after that the rest of the staff would come wandering in. The facility opened to the public for seven hours each day, but the crux of the work here was research and education, not entertainment. They didn’t study dolphin disease and physiology, or perform necropsies or anything like that; they focused on training, learning more about dolphin habits and intelligence with each passing season.
Which, of course, was expensive. And why Grady Miller, one of the three founders of the Sea Life Center, had decided that, like other sea mammal research facilities, they would educate the public on dolphins, arranging for playtimes, dolphin swims and other trainer-conducted interactions. While Rick was the head trainer here, Grady was managing director. The facility had been a nonprofit research institute for years, and Grady was loved and respected by the dolphins as well as all of his coworkers. She’d seen him in the water with the dolphins; they had all rushed to him like giant wet puppies, eager to greet him, eager to have him stroke them along their backs and fins, eager for his kind words. He’d purchased the property and the docks from the previous owners—filmmakers who’d trained dolphins to perform for the camera—and continued working with the dolphins they’d left behind, simply loving and being fascinated by the creatures. That had been almost thirty years ago. He’d started with two partners. Willem Rodriguez had provided financing, and Peg Walton worked with him day-to-day. Peg had passed away a few years ago, and now Grady essentially ran it on his own. The facility was now far larger than when it had been founded, and it was thriving, with its research featured in the most influential scientific publications.
They were supported by people from around the world, rich and poor alike. Their contributors included people who “adopted” a dolphin for a small donation and “sustainers” who, in return for their substantial support, were allowed to see some of the research as it was being conducted and were invited to attend a picnic-style fete each year, as well as being welcomed to various small meetings where the center’s newest findings were presented. There was, in fact, a dinner planned for that evening. It would be Lara’s first chance to attend such a special occasion, because there weren’t many of them, and as a new employee she was lucky to find one happening so soon after she was hired. At Sea Life, every contributor was appreciated, and with nonprofit enterprises continually reliant on the philanthropy of others, it was important to always let all their contributors know how much they were valued. And tonight a few of their major supporters would be on hand. Lara didn’t know much about Grant Blackwood of Eden Industries or Ely Taggerly of Taggerly Pharmaceuticals. She did know that Mason Martinez, CEO of Good Health Miami, had a nationwide reputation for his healthful lifestyle clinics and the preventive medicine practiced there. She was also familiar with Sonia Larson of Sonia Fashions.
In fact, she owned a number of Sonia’s pieces, trendy business fashions that didn’t cost an arm and a leg. She was anxious to meet the woman, along with all the others, of course.
Lara’s job tonight was to seat everyone and see that they were happy with the food and everyone had a good time while the trainers and scientists talked about their research and results. It hardly seemed like work.
And then there was the day-to-day here at Sea Life. Always time to walk around the lagoons and talk to the dolphins.
Lara felt she’d truly found a haven. She loved all the dolphins—but especially Cocoa.
Cocoa was in the front left lagoon that day, her usual location, though occasionally she was shifted to a different lagoon for training purposes. There were six underwater enclosures for the dolphins at the facility, front, right and left, and then two more behind each of those, with a sandbar-like island at the rear that more or less created a back street to approach the lagoons. The last two were the largest, where the adolescent males were kept. They could be rough when they played, just like teenage boys, and since two of the females had calves that were just a few months old, they were happiest away from the antics of the “boys.” The lagoons were all connected via underwater gates so the dolphins could be moved around for training and medical purposes.
Each lagoon had a floating dock for trainers, medical personal and the visitors who were part of a swim program, as well as a floating platform farther out in the water.
Lara sat down on the dock. “Good morning, Cocoa!” she called.
The dolphin made that clicking sound again, disappeared for a minute, then came up near Lara in a magnificent leap and welcomed her with a showering spray of seawater.
Lara laughed. “Yes, yes, you’re lovely and talented, and that actually felt very good. Love the sun, but it is warm. That water felt great. This is such a beautiful day,” she said.
And it really was. Stunningly beautiful. The sun was shining, making the water sparkle. A breeze was drifting in off the bay, rustling the palms and sea grape trees that grew along the stone paths and by the docks. By afternoon it would be hot, and they might be caught by one or more of the torrential storms that could hit the area in the summer and into the fall. But right now, it was simply beautiful. The sky was a true bright blue; the water was like a sea of diamonds.
The move to Miami had been a good idea.
