******
They passed through immigration fairly quickly, handing over the required cards they had filled out on the plane, and having their passports stamped for the number of days they planned on staying. Then they headed to the carousel to find their luggage.
"I think this is it." Thad reached over and grabbed the handle of the black suitcase as it came toward them. Phyl held onto her tan shoulder bag, and watched, relieved, as he hoisted their luggage over the rim of the carousel, and they were off. They picked up several brochures at the tour desk, then headed for customs. The Bahamian customs agent waved them through after they shook their heads that they had nothing to declare. As they left the air-conditioned airport, both of them were immediately struck with the difference in temperature and humidity, and Phyl quickly removed her lightweight jacket and slung it over her arm, glad she had decided to wear a short sleeve white cotton blouse over her lightweight black pants. She watched Thad motion toward a parked taxi, the only sensible way to reach the capital, which was nine miles from the airport. The amiable driver, with an engaging British accent, helped with their luggage, and they entered the taxi, with its required yellow license plate, and Gothic lettering on the side. They peered through the cab windows at their surroundings as the vehicle left the airport compound. They rode down John F. Kennedy Drive, passing one of the lakes they had seen from the plane, finding out from the driver that its name was Lake Cunningham, then they turned onto Blake Street, then the main road in Nassau - West Bay Street, which paralleled the northern coastline, and where their hotel was located. They passed a bright yellow and blue-trimmed horse-drawn carriage filled with tourists, and Phyl promised herself that one day, they should return for a vacation. She would love to check out all the boutiques, and what the driver called the 'Straw Market' on Franklin Street. As they rode down the street on the left side of the road - Phyl made a mental note to remember that - she gazed at the low-rise buildings with old colonial architecture, in pretty pastel colors, with white balconies, and windows covered with ornate black iron grating. They waited at a busy intersection for the policewoman, wearing a black and white uniform, standing in a small white pavilion in the middle of the thoroughfare, to give them the 'move along' sign. As the taxi pulled up to their destination, Phyl was surprised to see that their hotel, the British Colonial Inn, was a beautiful older structure, painted a pale coral, and figured from its location that it should have a gorgeous view of the ocean. Phyl saw the driver bound out of the taxi and retrieve their luggage from the trunk, as she and Thad exited the vehicle and stood next to one of the white, ionic-style columns on the sweeping, curved portico at the front of the hotel. Phyl turned to look toward the ocean, disappointed to only see palm trees and striped umbrellas in the distance, as Thad took the suitcase and tipped the driver, and they walked through the double doors into a lobby that looked like it was straight out of a grand old movie. Black and white marble floors, white columns soaring up to the high ceiling, ornate drapes lining huge multi-paned windows. There was a lot to take in. Not really her favorite style, she thought, much preferring lightweight drapes and fabrics near the beach, but she wasn't going to be picky. They were lucky to even get a room, and this was unbelievably elegant. She had really thought they would end up in a tiny, unkempt place, since they had booked at the last minute. They walked up to the lobby desk and Thad set down the suitcase. As they waited patiently for the clerk to turn around from a phone call, Phyl let her eyes roam around the lobby, seeing guests sitting on the gold brocade sofas, reading newspapers, drinking tea. She felt as if she had been taken back to the nineteen-twenties or thirties, somehow. Looking toward the entrance, she spied Jonathan's parents walking toward them, obviously deep in a private discussion, as they entered the lobby from the front door.
"Thad, there are Scott and Leah."
He turned around and narrowed his eyes to get a look at them.
"May I help you?" The clerk turned to them.
"You go ahead." Thad nodded toward Jonathan's parents. "I'll check us in." As he talked to the receptionist, Phyl walked toward the couple, strolling with their heads together, barely looking up.
"Scott, Leah!" The couple stopped and they both looked up at her, their eyes wide in surprise. Leah immediately ran over and the two women hugged.
"I'm so glad to see you, Phyl." Leah had tears in her eyes as they pulled apart, and she searched for a tissue in her pants pocket. "You look wonderful." She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue.
"I'll second that." Scott gave her a hug as well. "We're looking forward to meeting your husband. Thad, is it?" Phyl pulled away from the tall man and looked up into his friendly face, with his hazel eyes, and graying light brown hair, and nodded. She had always thought that Jonathan would look just like his father when he got older. Leah was a little shorter than she was, with chin-length, dark blond hair, high-lighted by white streaks on the side strands that curved inward, and brown eyes. They were both wearing khaki Bermuda shorts, and white, short sleeve cotton shirts, and tennis shoes. Their faces looked beyond strained, and her heart broke for them. This must be close to unbearable. She saw Scott look past her, and she turned her head to see Thad striding toward them, carrying their suitcase, the room key dangling from his hand. She smiled, and as she turned back to the couple, saw Leah looking up at Thad, her head tilted, appraising him, and her eyes narrowed and brightened, and she nodded as if in deep thought, and smiled.
"Scott, Leah, this is Thad." The two men nodded at each other and Phyl watched, smiling, as they shook hands amiably. Leah, to her surprise, waited until the handshake was over, then reached up and gave Thad a big, long hug, and Phyl saw him rub her back with his strong, comforting hand, and she could tell that Leah was crying. Phyl tried to hold back the tears, but seeing the couple who could easily have been her in-laws so taken with Thad, and adding to that the stress of the mystery surrounding Jonathan's whereabouts...it was just impossible. Leah pulled away, and wiped her eyes again with her tissue, and tried to smile. Phyl sighed, and rubbed her lips, nodding to Thad as he pulled out his handkerchief and handed it over to her, and she wiped her own eyes and nose.
"You don't know how much we appreciate you both traveling so far to be with us, but you two need to get to your room and unpack." Leah told them sternly, sounding like the kindergarten teacher she had been for thirty years. "You must be exhausted. Why don't we meet for dinner in an hour, what do you think, Scott?" She looked over at her husband.
"Sounds good to me." He stared hard at Phyl. "We'll tell you what little we know so far about this nightmare." Leah shook her head, and wiped her eyes again. "There's a good seafood restaurant right down the street."
"All right, we'll meet you here in an hour." Phyl saw Thad pick up their suitcase, and she patted Leah's arm, before they all turned and headed toward the elevators. Scott and Leah exited on the second floor, and Phyl and Thad continued to their room on the third floor.
As Thad set their suitcase on the stand across from the double bed, Phyl walked over to the window, and pulled aside the brocade drapes to see a balcony, and an ocean view. She was stunned. They had certainly gotten their money's worth with this hotel. They couldn't ask for better accommodations. Thad joined her, and they went out onto the balcony, and she felt his arms go around her, as they looked out at the ocean, the crowd of people on the beach, palm trees lining the area where the white railings of the hotel patio began. She sighed, as a soft, warm breeze ruffled her hair, knowing that they were here for a purpose, exactly what that was, she wasn't sure yet, but unfortunately, it wasn't to enjoy the scenery. She tilted her head up at Thad, and sighed, wanting only to stay in the moment with him. Had they made the right decision to come to the Bahamas? He kissed her neck, and they stood together for a moment more, then pulled apart reluctantly.
She slid a long black and white striped cotton sundress over her head, and threw a white sweater over her shoulders. As she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on her black sanda
ls, she saw Thad emerge from the bathroom, running his hand through his short hair, looking handsome in his long khakis and dark green polo shirt, and she sighed again, grateful to him for even suggesting that they come here to look for Jonathan.
"Should we play the messages for them?" She brushed back a strand of her long hair, pulled back at the temples with barrettes.
Thad paused in front of her and put his hands on his hips, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he looked down at her. "Perhaps we should. He's their son. They would want to know."
"Why don't we call them, and meet them in their room, and play it for them there, where it's private?" As he nodded in agreement, Phyl scooted up to the top of the bed and picked up the phone on the nightstand, and dialed the desk. She asked to be transferred to the Martin's room. After a moment's conversation with Leah, she nodded, hanging up the phone. "That's done. Are you ready to head down?"
Thad grabbed the black recorder, and Phyl put it in her shoulder bag. They closed the door behind them, and walked down the ornate hallway toward the elevator.
"Come on in, we're ready." Leah held the door for them, and they entered the room, the exact layout and fabrics as theirs. She had changed into a purple floral sleeveless dress and sandals. Phyl saw that Scott was opening a bottle of white wine at a small table near the sliding doors to the balcony, and he nodded as they walked toward him. Leah gathered four plastic glasses, and soon, they were sitting on the balcony, sipping the wine, and looking at the darkening turquoise sea as dusk began to settle over the island.
"Scott, Leah, we need to tell you that Jonathan called and left us a phone message Thursday, and another one this morning." Phyl heard Leah's sharp intake of breath, and saw Scott lean forward in his chair to stare at her. "I didn't tell you over the phone, because we weren't sure what to do with them until we checked with you here."
"What did he say, Phyl?" Scott's voice was hoarse.
"We recorded it." Thad took the cassette player from Phyl's outstretched hand, and he rewound the tape, and set the recorder on the table, then changed his mind. "Perhaps we should go inside and listen to it." It only took a minute for all of them to sit on the sides of the bed, as Thad placed the recorder on the bedspread, and pushed the play button.
"Kristin...kidnapped...in Bahamas.........hiding.......danger....need your help..." click
Leah's hands had flown to her mouth and her eyes were wide at the first sound of Jonathan's strained voice amid the static, but she remained silent as they listened to the first message.
"Here's the second one, from early this morning." Thad pushed the play button again.
".....Phyl.....I.....am.............free....." click
"Oh, my God." Leah's hands were still covering her mouth, and she looked like she was in shock.
"When did you say he left these?" Scott looked distraught.
"Thursday morning, and this morning." Phyl reached over and laid her hand on Leah's shoulder. "Are you all right, Leah?" The woman nodded.
"It's just such a shock to hear his voice." Leah looked at each of them. "I wonder what he meant by being 'free'?"
"I think what he's really saying is quite different from the small portion that we can understand, don't you Thad? So many words are unintelligible." Phyl looked over at Thad who was standing by the bed now.
"I agree." Thad put his hands on his hips, his dark eyes narrowed. "We'll need to replay this several times. The second message is the more important one as far as I'm concerned."
"What do we do with the tape is the question." Scott looked over at Thad.
"Are the people at the American Embassy here helpful?" Thad pushed the rewind button as he spoke.
Scott shook his head in disgust. "There is no ambassador right now, and won't be until November, we understand. There's an interim diplomat, what they call a charge d' affaires there now, and he is not as helpful as we had hoped. Of course, we've only been here a half-day, and they're closed now for the weekend."
"From what we gather, things move at a much slower pace here, even if it involves kidnappings and investigations." Leah sighed.
"We did hire and meet with a lawyer recommended by the embassy, and we're meeting with him again tomorrow." Scott glanced at Phyl and Thad. "He seems competent. Right now, he's trying to find out what the police are up to, and what Jonathan's status is. It all seems up in the air at the moment."
"Well, we all want to know where Jonathan is and why Kristin was kidnapped." Phyl sighed, as she looked around at each of them in turn. "But, do we want the authorities to hear this now? On the other hand, can we legally keep it to ourselves? Shouldn't the lawyer listen to it?"
"Normally, I'd say that the lawyer should hear the messages, and figure out the next step." Thad nodded. "But, Jonathan seems to be avoiding the embassy, and police, so he must have his reasons for that as well."
"Yesterday was very frustrating." Leah looked over at Phyl. "At least, after hearing the message from this morning, I know that Jonathan seems to be all right. I don't understand why he's hiding, though." She sighed, then reached over to pat Phyl's hand. "Thank you for bringing the messages to us. It was good to hear his voice." Her eyes teared. There was a long pause as they each were lost in their own thoughts. Leah broke the silence, sighing. "I have a recent picture of him." She found her purse and rummaged through it as she sat on the bed, pulling out a color photo, and handing it to Phyl. "It's Jonathan and Kristin on the beach. He sent it to us about a month ago."
Phyl gazed down at the picture and was surprised that she barely recognized the man in the photo. She held it out so Thad could see, and they both peered at the picture of the smiling couple, standing arm in arm in the sand with the ocean behind them. The only features Phyl could recognize were his height and smile. He could pass for a professional surfer, with his tan and his long, shoulder-length, sun-streaked hair, and Kristin, in her bikini, her blond hair blowing to the side, for a swimsuit model. He most certainly had changed. Phyl looked up and caught Thad's eye, and noticed that his eyebrows were raised as well.
"His hair is really long now, as you can see." Leah sighed. "We only met Kristin one time, before they moved, and, I'm sad to say, knowing now that the poor girl may be in grave danger, that I didn't care for her at all." Leah dabbed at her eyes. "That's awful of me, but that's how I felt." Scott moved over next to his wife, and put his hand on her shoulder. "She seemed very spoiled and self-centered." She sniffed into her tissue.
"They looked very relaxed in the photo." Phyl offered.
"Well, they didn't get along at all, from what little he mentioned of their life together here." Leah straightened her spine and composed herself, brushing back a strand of hair. "They weren't suited at all." She looked around at all of them, and sighed. "Well, why don't we head out. We have to eat, or we won't be any good to Jonathan at all, will we?" She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror over the dresser, sniffing, and wiping her eyes. Phyl went over to her and hugged her shoulders, then handed her the photo.
"I wish we could stay longer than a week, Leah."
Leah reached back and patted her hand. "You don't know how much you've helped already, Phyl." She put the photo in her purse, as Phyl put the recorder in her shoulder bag and they headed out the door.
The two couples walked together down the hall to the elevator, and Leah motioned for Phyl to join her, and the two women lagged a little behind the men, Thad looking back at them at one point, his brows lowered, a slightly quizzical smile on his face.
"You know, Phyl, Scott and I had reminded Jonathan many times of that old saying 'you snooze, you lose'," she laughed softly. "We kept hoping he would propose to you, but his career seemed to be his main focus, unfortunately. But I'm sure you already knew that." She tilted her head, and kept her voice low. "I like Thad an awful lot. I can see that the two of you are very well-suited for each other."
"We are, Leah." Phyl didn't elaborate, and she couldn't tell her that marriage to Jonathan would have b
een a disaster. She would have always felt that something very important was missing in their relationship.
The couples emerged from the elevator and took their time getting through the lobby, now a little more crowded, with several more tourists lined up to check in at the desk. They walked through the double front doors, and out onto the portico, and Phyl was once again reminded of the humidity here, and pulled off her sweater and slung it over her arm, as she and Thad followed Scott and Leah's lead. They walked out onto the crowded sidewalk.
"Right down that street..." Leah pointed westward. "..is the apartment that Jonathan and Kristin were renting. It's on the second floor of that pale blue building on the left, can you see it? There's yellow tape around the balcony now."
"I can see it, Leah." Phyl craned her neck and saw a thin strip of yellow against the blue of the building. She tried to visualize Jonathan living here on the island compared to living his life amid the bustle of New York City, and found that she had difficulty seeing him happy here.
"Can your lawyer get you inside?" Thad moved over to the street side, and put his arm around Phyl's waist as they maneuvered down the now busy sidewalk.
"No, we asked." She looked back over her shoulder at them. "Again, the authorities are still sorting through everything, and they don't seem to be in any hurry. I think we're looking at a very extended stay here."
"Where is the Sullivan Institute?" Phyl was curious.
"It's further west, not too far from the airport - on John F. Kennedy Drive. You passed it on the ride here." Scott looked back at them. "Well, here's the restaurant. Dinner is on us, by the way, and we don't want to hear any arguments." He smiled, but his eyes were serious, and they entered the restaurant.