The Secret of Skeleton Reef Read online

  Contents

  * * *

  1. Tale of the Ghost

  2. Rescue

  3. The Scent of Treasure

  4. The Destiny

  5. The Laughing Moon

  6. Out of the Sand

  7. Scavengers

  8. Blood in the Water

  9. Green Gold and Real Gold

  10. X Marks the Spot

  11. Something Fishy

  12. Why Pirates Were Pirates

  13. Inside the Volcano

  14. Return of the Ghost

  15. The Truth Surfaces

  1 Tale of the Ghost

  * * *

  “Man, this is the life,” Joe Hardy said as he nestled a bare foot into the powdery white beach sand. Glancing up, he saw a slender crescent moon glowing in the night sky.

  Frank looked at his younger brother and said, “Get a clue, Joe. They don’t say ‘man’ in the Caribbean. They say ‘mon.’ ”

  “Okay, mon,” Joe said. “Don’t sweat it.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t,” Frank said, leaning back in the sand, using his backpack as a pillow. “Working up a sweat is the last thing on my mind.”

  “Well, if anybody needs a little rest and recreation, it’s Frank and Joe Hardy,” Jamal Hawkins said. Jamal was a seventeen-year-old the Hardys had gotten to know on one of their cases. As luck would have it, Jamal’s uncle owned a bungalow on the Caribbean island of St. Lucia, and Jamal had invited the Hardys to join him on the island for some summer fun in the sun.

  The boys sat silently a few moments, enjoying the pleasantly warm Caribbean night. A faint breeze rustled through the fronds of the palm trees. The three had arrived on the island only two hours earlier and had wasted no time getting to the water.

  The sea lapped gently several yards away. Frank felt himself becoming hypnotized by the slow, easy sound of the waves.

  “Peaceful, isn’t it?” Jamal said finally.

  “You can say that again,” Frank replied.

  “You know, I like action more than anybody,” Joe said, “but right now I’m really looking forward to a complete break from it all. No school, no chores, no life-threatening situations.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jamal said. “If you ask me, you guys aren’t even capable of relaxing. If there’s trouble lurking anywhere in this part of the world, I know you guys are going to stumble into it.” Jamal glanced at them with a knowing smile.

  Both Hardys attended Bayport High School and occasionally slipped into the roles of teenage detectives. Frank Hardy was tall and had dark hair. At eighteen he was a year older than Joe, as well as an inch taller. Intelligent and even-tempered, Frank was seldom anybody’s fool.

  Blond Joe, on the other hand, was more the impulsive type. Though he was also smart, Joe sometimes allowed his emotions and instincts to guide his actions.

  “Jamal, you’re no stranger to danger yourself,” Joe chided. “You got us into one of our scariest cases yet.”

  “True,” Jamal admitted. “I just don’t go looking for disaster the way you guys do.”

  Jamal was slender and a little shorter than the Hardys, but he could match either one in athletic ability. Jamal’s father owned a commuter airline in Bayport, and Jamal was an expert pilot himself.

  Hearing voices down the beach, Frank turned to see two young men approaching. They were both in their twenties and had the tanned, laid-back look of California surfers. Each had long hair, one blond, the other light brown.

  “How’s it going, guys?” the blond one said, stopping right by Jamal and the Hardys.

  “Oh, not too shabby,” Joe answered. “Just checking out the waves.”

  “Too bad you can’t see what’s underneath that water,” the blond one said. By the accent, Frank could tell he was a fellow citizen of the U.S.

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked.

  “Sunken ships is what I mean,” the blond replied. “There are plenty of wrecks out there, and I’ve seen tons of them. Everything from fishing boats to luxury yachts. There is a reef four miles offshore that’s awfully dangerous to boats in bad weather.”

  “Hey,” Jamal said, “we heard there were some treasure hunters stationed on the island. They’re supposed to be searching for the remains of a sunken pirate ship. You guys wouldn’t be a part of that scene, would you?”

  The blond smiled slyly and hitched up his shorts. “We were trying to keep this thing quiet, but on a small island, word gets around eventually. As a matter of fact, we’re members of the crew looking for that pirate ship. I’m Ted, and this is Dirk.”

  Frank noticed that Ted and Dirk looked pretty impressed with themselves as he introduced himself and Joe and Jamal.

  “I guess a lot of pirates sailed these waters way back when, didn’t they?” Joe asked.

  “They sure did,” Ted said, glancing out at the calm water of the Caribbean Sea. “Several hundred years ago the Spanish conquistadors were busy conquering South and Central America. They stole tons of precious metals and gems from the natives of those countries. The booty was hauled back to Spain on big ships called galleons. Those ships carried a lot of loose change, too. And most of the galleons came right through this very sea you’re looking at.”

  “So the pirates started hanging around here so they could rob those ships,” Jamal added. “It served those greedy Spaniards right!”

  “Maybe it did,” Ted said with a grin. “Anyway, there was a pirate ship called the Laughing Moon that sank near St. Lucia. Supposedly there was mucho treasure on board. That’s the ship our underwater salvage team has been searching for.”

  “Have you found any sign of it yet?” Joe asked.

  Ted shrugged. “Maybe we have, maybe we haven’t. I’ve said too much already.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” Jamal said.

  “A lot of things aren’t fair,” Dirk said with a playful wink.

  “Catch you later, dudes,” Ted said. Then he and Dirk strolled down the moonlit beach.

  A few moments passed before Jamal said, “I read once that one third of all the gold ever mined is lying at the bottom of the world’s seas and oceans. On sunken ships, of course.”

  “Maybe we should become underwater treasure hunters,” Joe said. “I wonder if you can major in that in college.”

  “I bet those wrecks can be pretty tough to find,” Frank said, always the practical one. “Chances are, playing the stock market is an easier way to get rich.”

  “Did somebody say rich?”

  Frank turned and saw an elderly island woman standing right above him. Her skin was dark brown, like Jamal’s, and her summery smock was the deep pink color of bougainvillea. “Hi, there,” Frank said. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

  “Hello, boys,” the woman said with a deliciously thick island accent. “My name is Auntie Samantha. If you cross my palm with, oh, just a little bit of coin, I tell you a story.”

  “What sort of story?” Jamal asked.

  “Any sort of story you want,” the lady said, her smile revealing several missing teeth. “If it happened on this island, Auntie Samantha knows all about it. I know everything about this ol’ heap of sand and trees on the water.”

  Frank pulled a few coins from the pocket of his cutoffs and handed them to Auntie Samantha. “How about a pirate story?”

  “Ahhh, I know a whopping good pirate story,” Auntie Samantha said. “Now get yourselves comfortable.” She knelt on the sand, and the boys shifted to get in better positions to watch her. Auntie Samantha dramatically closed her eyes for a moment, as if summoning the story to her mind.

  “You see, oh, about three hundred years ago,” Auntie Samantha began, “there lived a young lady on th
is island by the name of Rebecca. She was from England, the daughter of a man who owned a banana plantation. There be many, many bananas on this island. Well, Rebecca was a very rich girl and a very merry girl, and she always wore a diamond necklace. But one sad day, tragedy crossed her path.” Auntie Samantha spoke in a musical voice, her words mingling with the lapping of the waves and the rustling of the palms.

  “One night,” Auntie Samantha continued, “a beautiful night just like this, Rebecca was walking along the beach, not too far from here. Suddenly a band of grimy pirates sprang from the trees and rushed at Rebecca. They demanded the diamond necklace she wore. But because she dearly loved that necklace, Rebecca tried to fight the evil pirates away. And then, I am very sorry to report, the pirates murdered her.”

  “How?” Joe asked, his blue eyes flickering with interest.

  “Some say they strangled her,” Auntie Samantha told the boys. “Others say they slit her throat.”

  “Did they take the necklace?” Frank asked.

  “Of course,” Auntie Samantha said with a somber nod. “Then those grimy pirates, they returned to their ship and sailed away. But lo and behold, several hours later, by the light of the moon, they saw something moving on the waves in front of them. And do you know what that something was?”

  “What?” Jamal asked.

  “It was the ghost of Rebecca,” Auntie Samantha said, her voice now hushed and low. “Rebecca’s face was completely white, and she was walking on those waves just like she be walking on land. All the pirates rushed to the deck, and I’m sure some of them screamed with fright. Then those grimy pirates sailed away from these parts just as fast as their canvas sails would carry them.”

  “Was the ghost ever seen again?” Joe asked.

  “I’m glad you ask that,” the woman said. “Since that night, many a sailor has claimed to see the ghost of Rebecca. Last I heard of her being spotted was about, oh, I think five years ago. But I’m pretty sure ol’ Rebecca is still out there. Still haunting the waves that roll toward this lovely little island, still looking for her beautiful diamond necklace,”

  Auntie Samantha fell quiet, letting the rhythmic whisper of the waves put the finishing touch on the tale.

  “Wow,” Joe said after a moment. “That was a great story!”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Auntie Samantha said with a grateful bow. “If you boys ever want another story, you just come looking for Auntie Samantha. Most days you can find me inside the volcano.” Auntie Samantha rose from the sand, brushed herself off, and glided down the beach as if she were being carried away by the trade wind.

  “Did she say ‘inside the volcano’?” Frank asked incredulously.

  “There’s a volcano on this island you can walk or drive through,” Jamal explained. “It’s called La Soufrière. It’s the island’s number-one tourist attraction.”

  “Let’s put that on our list of vacation things to do,” Joe said with enthusiasm. “Right after sleeping in and catching some rays.”

  For another few moments no one spoke. Gazing at the crescent moon, Frank let his imagination wander over the story he had just heard. As he pictured the ghost of Rebecca hovering on the sea, he now found the sound of the lapping waves to be somewhat ominous.

  Then Frank saw something on the edge of the water that made his blood run cold. He closed his eyes, hoping the vision had been imaginary, but when he reopened his eyes, the frightening sight was still there.

  “What’s wrong?” Joe asked his brother.

  “Look,” Frank whispered, pointing.

  Joe turned to look. The sight made his heart stop. Only several yards away, lying in the shallow water of the beach, was the limp body of a young woman.

  2 Rescue

  * * *

  Frank, Joe, and Jamal sprang to their feet and ran over to the body. The young woman lay facedown in the white sand, the waves gently swishing her long chestnut hair up and down. She wore only shorts and a bathing-suit top.

  After the boys pulled the young woman away from the water, Frank slapped her on the back a few times, right between the shoulder blades. Spurts of seawater came spraying from her mouth.

  “Turn her over,” Frank instructed, and Joe and Jamal turned the young woman onto her back. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be around twenty years old.

  Frank placed an ear against her chest. “There’s a heartbeat,” he said. Then he tilted the young woman’s head back, pinched her nostrils, and put his mouth against her mouth in order to begin emergency resuscitation.

  “She must have been swimming,” Jamal said. “The tide probably saved her from drowning.”

  “Get the Jeep,” Joe told Jamal. “Drive it down here if you can. Do you know where the hospital is?”

  “I sure do,” Jamal called, and darted away.

  Joe watched as Frank blew repeatedly into the young woman’s mouth. After several breaths Frank would pull back, then start again. Frank’s effort continued for several tense minutes with no result, and Joe began to doubt the young woman would revive.

  Finally Joe saw her chest expand. More seawater came dribbling from her mouth, and then her eyes popped open. “Good job, Frank,” Joe said with relief.

  “Thanks,” Frank said, a bit winded.

  With a groan, the young woman shut her eyes again. Joe noticed that she was tan and pretty.

  A beige Jeep came roaring onto the beach, tires spewing white sand. Jamal braked the Jeep right near the young woman and leaped out. Frank and Jamal lifted her into the backseat of the Jeep. Then Joe got in back with her and covered her with a blanket while Jamal and Frank climbed into the front seats.

  Most of the island was mountainous and covered jungle-thick with trees and vegetation. Jamal had to pay close attention as he guided the Jeep down a steeply descending dirt road. Outside the beam of the Jeep’s headlights was nothing but darkness.

  The young woman was conscious but weak and groggy. Joe held a hand on her shoulder so she would not fall from the bumpy ride. She had been silent, her eyes mostly closed, but now Joe noticed she was trying to say something.

  “Skeh . . . ” the girl murmured in a hoarse voice.

  “Shhh,” Joe said. “Just relax right now. We’re on the way to the hospital.”

  “Skeh . . . ” she said again.

  “What is it?” Joe asked, leaning close to her. “Do you need to tell me something?”

  “Skeh . . . ” she repeated.

  “What’s she saying?” Frank asked from up front.

  “I don’t know,” Joe said. “It sounded like ‘skeh.’ ”

  “Maybe she’s trying to say she’s scared,” Jamal said, shifting gears to accelerate the Jeep up a hill.

  “Maybe,” Joe said as the young woman shut her eyes once more.

  Before long Jamal drove into the village of Soufrière, and within a few minutes he’d parked the Jeep in front of a two-story brick hospital. Joe and Jamal carried the young woman into the building, then set her on a chair inside the empty waiting room. Frank approached a nurse at a desk.

  “What happened to her?” the nurse asked Frank.

  “We don’t know,” Frank answered. “We found her lying on the beach. She had some water in her, but we got most of it out. I think she’s in shock.”

  “Do you know who she is?” the nurse asked as she rolled a wheelchair over to the girl.

  “Sorry,” Frank said. “We have no idea.”

  “Okay, I’ll take her right in to the doctor,” the nurse said as Joe helped the young woman get into the wheelchair. Then the nurse wheeled her down the hallway.

  Twenty minutes later a doctor wearing a white smock entered the waiting room. “Thanks to your efforts,” the doctor said, approaching Jamal and the Hardys, “the patient is going to be all right. I pumped some more water out of her and, aside from that, she just needs a good night of rest. I wish I knew who she was, though. We’d like to notify her friends or family of her whereabouts, but we couldn’t get any informa
tion from her.”

  “Could we see her briefly?” Frank asked. “Maybe we can get something out of her.”

  “I suppose,” the doctor said with a nod. “She’s in Room eleven. But stay only a few minutes, please.”

  “Right,” Frank said, leading Joe and Jamal down the hallway. At Room 11 Frank rapped lightly at the door, then stepped into the room. Joe and Jamal followed. The room was dark, but enough light spilled in from the hallway for Frank to see the young woman lying on the tilted hospital bed.

  As Frank approached, he could see her eyes were open. She was wearing a hospital gown and had an ID bracelet on her wrist. Her long chestnut hair was now dry and draped across the pillowcase. Though her face was friendly, there was a hint of fear in her pale blue eyes.

  “How are you feeling?” Frank asked.

  “Not too bad,” the girl said, her voice still hoarse. “Are you the guys who brought me here?”

  “That’s right,” Frank said. “I’m Frank Hardy. This is my brother, Joe, and our friend, Jamal Hawkins. What’s your name?”

  The young woman hesitated a long moment. “Uh . . . Chrissy,” she said finally.

  “Chrissy what?” Frank asked.

  “I’d prefer we just leave it at Chrissy.”

  “Is there anyone we can notify about your being here?” Frank asked. “Some family or friends in the area?”

  “No,” Chrissy said quickly. “In fact, would you guys do me a big favor?”

  “Sure,” Frank said.

  “Don’t tell anyone you found me or brought me here,” Chrissy said. “Please. Promise you won’t say a word to anyone.”

  “Okay.” Frank wondered what was up, but he said, “We promise.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you, Chrissy?” Jamal asked.

  “No,” Chrissy said, shaking her head. “I remember . . . some sort of struggle, then . . . ”

  “Who was struggling with you?” Jamal asked.

  “I don’t remember,” Chrissy said, her brow wrinkling as if she were rummaging through her thoughts for some lost item. “Someone was trying to hurt me. . . . Suddenly I was in the water . . . and then . . . then I was swimming . . . and I, uh . . . just recall swimming and swimming a very long way until . . . I couldn’t swim any farther.”