“And then you went out with her last night. You did, right?”
“Yes, we went dancing.”
“This morning? She told me she was going out with you this morning.”
“I can’t talk to you right now. I just came back to get a book I forgot. Please, excuse me.”
He walked ahead but she speedily blocked his path.
“No, tell me! I haven’t seen Daphne all day, you’re the last one who has seen her as far as I know. So please, tell me everything.”
“I can’t, sorry.”
Again, he tried moving past her. This time she took a handful of his cotton shirt and held firmly.
“Ricardo, you tell it to me now or you tell it to the police in an hour. I just want to know that she’s all right. Please…”
The young man looked left and right and then brought his head down next to hers. “Taken. Daphne was taken.”
The word knocked Jessica’s air away. Taken? Who gets taken? Seconds went by and she ran out of oxygen. She gasped like she was coming out from the ocean after several minutes spent underwater. What was happening?
“W-What… How?”
“Not here.”
He looked around once more to make sure they were alone before taking her elbow and leading her away. They went back to the shack where he worked. The high-pitched bell over the door once again made her heart jump.
The uncooperative old man came out to see what was going on and he looked almost disappointed that Jessica had caught up with Ricardo after all. The two of them spoke to each other in the local dialect and the old man disappeared again in a huff.
“What’s going on?”
Before replying, Ricardo locked the front door, looked out the window, and lowered the shade.
“Tell me! Please!”
“I didn’t see much.”
“Tell me what you know, Ricardo.”
He nodded. “We had a lot of fun last night and this morning with Daphne, we went to Little Curaçao, this small island nearby. What you have to understand is that she is wild, she doesn’t listen.”
“Tell me about it.”
“There is a shipwreck there and no one is supposed to go near it.”
“Let me guess, she wanted to go on board, to take some pictures.”
She probably wanted to have sex on the shipwreck too, she didn’t add.
“I told her it was dangerous, that it is not allowed. But she went, she was running to it.”
“And?”
“And there were men on this boat. The men had guns.”
Jessica covered her mouth with her hands to suppress a cry. “And they took her?”
“It’s difficult to tell. I was very far, I can’t say who it was or what they did. I… I returned to my boat to wait for her. After an hour, she didn’t come back. I went back to look but the men were gone. Everyone was gone.”
“And you didn’t tell anybody? You didn’t do anything?”
Her hands had turned into fists and her knuckles were white. She had never hit anyone before in her life but right now that’s all she wanted to do.
“You don’t understand, miss. On this island there are things you can’t do, there are people you can’t cross.”
“So you know who took Daphne?”
She looked at him with a mixture of pleading and accusation.
“I was too far away. Even going to the police would do no good.”
“But you know, Ricardo. You know. You have to tell me who has her.”
The young man backed away and shook his head. “It’s not how it works here.”
“It’s not how it works? I’ll tell you how I goddamn work. You tell me who took Daphne or I swear to God I’ll have the US consulate in this place by morning.”
“The US consulate?” he sneered. “They have no authority here.”
“Of course not but you know what they can do? They can put pressure to have your business license revoked. They can put you on a no-fly list. They can make sure no American tourist comes back to this place ever again.”
She was making it up as she went but after the fretful day she’d had, in spite of her regular pacifist demeanor, it felt empowering to have someone on the defensive. In any case, Ricardo gulped laboriously, visibly weighing his options.
“What’s it gonna be? Should I be calling someone right now? I have the consulate on speed dial.”
To bring her point home, she showed him her phone and sure enough the US mission was in her contact list.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Do it quick!”
“All I know – all everyone here knows – is that you don’t approach the shipwreck on Little Curaçao. It’s not because it’s not safe, it’s because it is the territory of one man. This man is dangerous. No one goes up against this man.”
It was Jessica’s turn to swallow audibly. “Who is it? What’s his name?”
“Prins, Ryker Prins.”
Chapter 7
Jessica knew how George Foreman felt after a few rounds with Mohammed Ali. She was breathless, disoriented, as if she had been pummeled into the ground by someone three times her size. Ryker had kidnapped Daphne? Sure, the man had seemed quite mysterious from the get-go and she had even been afraid of him at first. But the most dangerous man on the island?
When she got over the shock, she thought about her options. Logic dictated that she called the police. Hell, a part of her wanted to call every acronym in the phone book and have the full power of international law rain down on Ryker to retrieve her friend. That was the smart thing to do.
On the other hand, she knew him. What they had shared together, their intimate night into each other’s arms, she was convinced it couldn’t be fake. He couldn’t be all bad. Underneath his rough exterior was someone she was sure could be reasoned with. If she could appeal to his senses, if she made him understand that Daphne was her friend, maybe she could get her back. It was most likely all one giant misunderstanding.
After several minutes of threatening and harassment, she made Ricardo tell her more about Ryker. He told her he operated a business called West Indies Imports & Shipping and after a long struggle with his conscience he finally gave her the address.
She found a taxi after walking out of the marina and, feeling braver than she actually was, she instructed the driver to take her to West Indies Imports & Shipping. The sun was almost completely gone and she was afraid that going to the police first would waste valuable time. Besides, the more she thought about it the more she believed Ryker could be reasoned with.
Yeah, and I might end up in a ditch.
She made abstraction of negative thoughts and calmed herself. How could she convince him to give Daphne back? Money? She didn’t have any. She had no marketable skills save for geology and that was mostly an academic field. What if he wanted to be compensated in another way? Oh God, he wouldn’t!
She banished these considerations and looked at the scenery. They drove out of town along winding roads and there was no way she could remember how to come back here. Another reason why she might end up as a statistic on stupid American girls disappearing in the topics.
At last, they left the road and went through chain-link fences with the gate open. A dilapidated sign on it read West Indies Imports & Shipping. Up ahead was an imposing warehouse and beyond it she could see the ocean. There were shrubs along the driveway but they were in serious need of gardening work. All in all, the place wasn’t giving her the warms and fuzzies.
“Not going closer,” the driver said as he came to a halt 200 feet from the entrance.
She considered arguing but she recalled how scared Ricardo had been up Ryker. There was no sense making another enemy so she paid her fare.
“Stay here, okay? I won’t be long.”
She gave him an extra $20 in American currency and he nodded nervously.
She took deep breaths as she walked to the warehouse. There were a few parked cars in front so at least she’
d be able to talk to someone. She still had no idea how she was going to broach the subject. Hello, have you by any chance kidnapped my best friend? It somehow didn’t sound like the right approach.
She was wearing capri pants and a blouse and in a desperate effort to put luck on her side, she undid the top button of her shirt. She hadn’t done something like that since her freshman year and of course it had been Daphne’s idea. She was convinced she had no charm or feminine guile but right now she was willing to use every trick in the book.
She walked through the door, a thick, heavy metal affair usually found in the back of buildings. She was bowled over by the interior though. She was standing in an antechamber, about 15 feet square, that was tastefully decorated in pastels. It was almost inviting.
“Bon nochi!”
There was a receptionist sitting behind a desk. She was about her age and smiled pleasantly.
“I’d like to see Ryker Prins please.”
The woman’s smile tightened, she hesitated, and then picked up the phone. But before she could speak or even dial, a side door opened and a man walked in. He was short, not much taller than Jessica, and his skin was too light for a black man and too dark for a white man. His head was shaved bald.
“Kén bo ta?” When she didn’t answer, he switched to Dutch. “Wie ben jij?”
“English? I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language.”
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“I’m here to see Ryker Prins.”
The man came closer. “You don’t have an appointment.”
“I’m making one right now,” she caught herself saying, staring defiantly at him.
“It is all right, Hubrecht.”
Jessica looked beyond the man and found Ryker standing in the doorway. He stuck his hands in his pockets, crossed his feet, and leaned against the wall.
“Ryker…”
“Good evening, Jessica. I did not expect you to visit me at work. You should have called.”
“You didn’t give me your phone number.”
“And yet you have my address.”
There was accusation in his voice, but also amusement.
“I’m resourceful.”
“I can see that.”
He spoke Dutch to Hubrecht and the short man backed away.
“Come with me, we shall talk more privately.”
He straightened up and motioned for her to come with him. Everything Ricardo had said was coming back to her past. He was a dangerous man, he’d said. Everyone is afraid of him. What if he was taking her back there to dispose of her?
To hell with it. She needed answers. She walked toward Ryker.
“She has a taxi waiting for her in front.”
Jessica quickly turned around and noticed Hubrecht was bent in half next to the receptionist, watching security monitors.
“Go tell the driver he is no longer needed tonight.”
Hubrecht nodded and left the warehouse. Jessica was about to panic as she’d come to think of the cab as her insurance policy. Now there was no one waiting for her. What if she ended up like Daphne?
“This way, Jessica. I will drive you to your hotel later.”
She braced herself and went through the door. On the other side was a fairly ordinary warehouse with industrial shelving and crates everywhere. There were half a dozen employees milling about, some of them operating forklifts. All in all, there was nothing nefarious going on but she still wasn’t at ease.
He went past her and she followed him up metal stairs. A catwalk led to an office and her rudimentary orienteering skills made her deduce the office sat above the reception area. The office had the same color scheme as the lobby. There was a trendy desk made of glass and brushed aluminum and a few plants made the place cozy. A window behind the desk opened on the side of the warehouse which meant the ocean was visible in the background.
A man was already there and leaning against a bookcase. He was tall, several inches taller than Ryker. His skin was coal black and his forearms were covered with tattoos. His hair was fashioned into long dreadlocks.
“Leave us alone, please Vurnon.”
“You sure, boss man?” he asked in a distinctive Jamaican accent.
“Ja.”
With an intimidating glare, Vurnon nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Ryker pulled up a chair for Jessica but she refused to sit down. He grinned at her independence and dropped into the swivel chair behind the desk.
“What did you do with her?”
“Excuse me?”
“Daphne, where is she?”
“I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about.”
“Stop taking me for a fool! I know about you, I know about your… business. I wanna know what you’ve done with my friend.”
“You will have to start at the beginning if you want me to follow this story of yours.”
Jessica slammed her fists on the glass tabletop, making it clang loudly. “I’ve had enough of being jerked around today!”
“What happened, Jessica?”
“You have the nerve to ask that? You sicken me!”
“Tell me what is happening. Please, I want to understand.”
“You wanna understand? No, I want to understand! Why did you kidnap Daphne? Where is she? Did you kill her?”
For the first time Ryker became flustered. He shook his head and frowned.
“Explain yourself, Jessica. I have not seen your friend and I certainly have not killed her.”
“Stop with this bullshit,” she shouted. “I know she was on Little Curaçao this morning. I know you protect that shipwreck for whatever you’re hiding in there. She was at that boat, she saw you doing something illegal, and you took her.”
“Who told you this?”
She barely heard him. She was exhausted from using these harsh words. She swept her hair back and sighed.
“Look, I just want her back safe. Pretend I don’t know anything. We’ll keep quiet and fly back home.”
“I do not know anything either, believe me. Someone has been playing games with you.”
“All right, fine. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to cooperate, fine. I’m getting the police in here. They can search your damn warehouse.”
She let her words sink in and turned around. The time for threats had passed. It was now time to act. The police would handle this and hopefully their interrogation methods would be barbarian.
She opened the door and stepped out on the catwalk. As she spun, she came face-to-face with Vurnon. His face was a mask of fury. She didn’t have time to tell him to get out of the way. He lifted his arm and it came crashing down toward the head.
Before she could feel pain, everything went black.
Chapter 8
Jessica woke up wincing. Everything was still dark but her head was throbbing. She was disoriented, having no idea if she was sitting or even upside down. She took deep breaths and discovered she was a bit dizzy. What had happened?
She tried to remember the chain of events. Graduation, about to start a new job, coming to the Caribbean on vacation. Yes, with Daphne… She had disappeared! She remembered everything now: scouring the island, asking questions, finding out Ryker was responsible for kidnapping her friend.
And then she’d been knocked unconscious by that Rasta wannabe.
She moved her hands and pawed around her. It was soft like she was on a mattress. So her hands weren’t bound, why couldn’t she see then? Was this what being dead felt like? Or maybe she was blind!
“No…” she cried in panic.
Her hands flew to her face and she found something covering her eyes. Bandages?
“Calm down, shhhh. It is all right.”
The voice belonged to Ryker so she was pretty sure she could rule out being dead. She was still unsure about being disfigured though. There were footsteps – exactly three – and she felt a presence over her. She picked up aftershave, definitely the Dutchman’s floral brand.
He gently pushed her hands away from her face and then reached behind her head. That’s when she understood she was blindfolded. He took it off and she could see! She blinked a dozen times to adjust to the ambient light which was a very dim.
She looked around eagerly, anything to get a better understanding of what was happening. She was in a bedroom, her head propped up on a thick pillow as she lied down on a queen-size bed. Lighting came from a lamp on the farthest nightstand; wattage was low, casting an orange glow throughout the spacious room.
Ryker was indeed next to her and in his hands was the blindfold. It was made of red silk, certainly not something most people had lying around for makeshift hostage control. Behind him, several yard away, Hubrecht kept an eye on her. There was a hand inside his open Hawaiian shirt and Jessica was certain he was getting ready to draw a gun.
“Where am I, Ryker?”
“I am happy that you are feeling better.”
“I don’t feel better. I don’t know where Daphne is.”
That made him smile. “The blindfold might not have been necessary, I apologize. How is your head?”
His words brought back the pounding going on at the base of her skull. She rubbed the area and sure enough there was a bump.
“I am sorry about this, Jessica. The perpetrator had no authority to strike you and he has been dealt with, I assure you.”
“Did you kill him too?” she shot back.
“There is some water and aspirin next to you.” He pointed at the nightstand. “Please rest and we will talk further in the morning.”
“No, let me go back to my hotel!”
He didn’t look at her and walked out of the room with his henchman in tow. She wanted to scream, to throw a tantrum, anything to protest the situation, but she had a feeling she’d only be wasting her time and energy. And there was the fact that her head hurt like a bitch.
She sat up and looked at the aspirin. Her first instinct was to avoid it at all cost. Maybe it was actually arsenic or cyanide! However, she figured that if they had wanted to kill her they would have done so when she was unconscious. She inspected the two tablets and they looked like regular aspirin. She threw caution to the wind and swallowed them with half the glass of water.
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