The Kate Jones Thriller Series 1-4 (Boxed Set)

by D. V. Berkom

  "Gods say you must accept Kamohoali'i. Do this, balance will return." He began to shake and put his head down on the table and moaned. I was ready to dial 9-1-1 when he looked up and pointed a gnarly finger at the sky.

  "The headless Honu will show way. No be afraid."

  Crazy boy leaned back, all smiles, apparently finished. Stunned, I wondered if it was safe to leave.

  "Don't mind him. It's just his way." One of the cooks from the shrimp truck had come out onto the patio area and was bussing a nearby table. "The regulars are used to him. He means no harm. Do you, Ray?"

  Ray nodded and smiled, then stood and shuffled off to sit at another table.

  "Good to know." My knees turned to gel as I walked to the counter to grab a container to take my meal home. I'd seen some strange rangers in my life, but I didn't expect to encounter it in rural Hawaii. Central Park, yes. The North Shore of Oahu, not so much.

  "Hey, Evelyn."

  Startled, I turned.

  And found myself looking directly into Alek's face. I almost lost my grip on the plate.

  "Alek."

  Clearly, this dude was stalking me. Anger fueled by fear rose in my chest. I didn't need this right now.

  "I was hoping I'd run into you."

  "You do know what you're doing could be construed as stalking, right?" I jerked open the container and dumped in the uneaten shrimp and rice, struggling to maintain control of my emotions. Closing the box, I strode past him toward the parking lot and my scooter. He put his arm out to block me.

  I glared at him.

  "I wanted to give you something." He reached into his pocket and brought out a small bone carving with a wrapped cord. He held it out, letting it dangle.

  "It's for you. For protection."

  I glanced at it and shook my head.

  "I can't accept."

  "Yes you can. It's nothing, really." His face fell and he looked down, avoiding my eyes.

  Jesus, Kate. Just accept the damned necklace. He made it for you. And you sure as hell don't want to piss off this guy. You don't know what he's capable of. I forced a smile and took the necklace from him, holding it up to get a better look.

  "Thank you." The carving was part-man, part-fish, with a divot removed from the figure's back and replaced with a red stone. It was well done, but not my choice of subject matter.

  "I'm glad you like it. Would you like me to put it on you?"

  "No, Alek. I'm going to leave now. And you need to stop following me. Let it go, okay?"

  I searched his face, expecting to see a hint of the anger I'd seen earlier, but his expression betrayed only friendly interest. He moved aside with a sweeping hand gesture.

  "Please, go. You looked like you were on your way somewhere."

  I walked to my scooter and slid the box of shrimp into the saddle compartment. When I turned to see where he'd gone, I noticed the man Alek said was his uncle watching me from behind an old camper van. Alek walked up to him and said something, and they both turned to stare.

  The uncle was the first to break visual contact as he opened the door and climbed into the van.

  FOUR

  "Kate-" Gabby's voice cracked.

  "What's wrong?" I clutched the phone, instantly awake and alarmed by the emotion in his voice. I glanced at the clock on my dresser- three a.m.

  "Henry's- been hurt." Gabby choked out the words through gut-wrenching sobs.

  "How? Where is he?" I pushed myself off the bed, pulled on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, and started hunting for a pair of flip flops. Dread filled my mind.

  Not Henry.

  "They're taking him to emergency. God, Kate. There was so much blood…"

  "Where are you?"

  "I-I'm just now leaving."

  "Come and get me. I'll drive."

  I drove Gabby's Jaguar like a mad woman to the hospital, ignoring stoplights and little things like traffic. Gabby didn't notice. He stared out the window, watching the car's headlights lick at the edges of the pineapple fields.

  "What happened?"

  Gabby looked dazed, the shock still fresh.

  "I found him on the floor by the window. He'd been stabbed multiple times." A tear rolled down his cheek, breaking my heart. "Why would anyone hurt Henry?"

  "It can't be anyone who knew him. We all love Henry." An idea I didn't want to acknowledge started to wind its way through my mind. "How did they get in? Isn't your house protected like a bunker?" Gabby had the best security on the market. Apparently, even that wasn't failsafe.

  "As soon as the paramedics arrived, I checked the digital feeds before the police showed up. They'd been disabled. The police didn't find any signs of forced entry. One of us must have left something open."

  Or Henry knew his attacker.

  "Did they take anything?" His answer would tell me if the theory taking root in my mind had any validity.

  Gabby nodded. "One of my rarest pieces- a tiki carving from the early fourth century."

  That told me it wasn't any of Salazar's thugs. What would they want with a Hawaiian statue? Besides why warn me when they wanted me dead? It would give me a chance to escape. It took them five years to find me in Alaska. I doubted they'd risk losing track again.

  The other possibility could be that Alek wanted to hurt Henry, that he thought we were together. Stealing the carving might have been an afterthought, maybe a ploy to throw off law enforcement. Stalkers could be seriously unhinged, especially when it came to jealousy. I'd had a girlfriend in college who'd been a victim. Her stalker didn't let little things like reality or the word 'no' get in his way. Alek's behavior didn't give me any reason to think he was stable.

  But was he capable of trying to kill someone?

  The hospital had the same death-and-detergent smell I remembered from my childhood. The nurse at the desk told us Henry was in emergency surgery, had been stabilized and would be moved to the ICU soon. Gabby and I found seats in the waiting room, prepared for a long wait.

  An hour later, a doctor wearing scrubs and a weary expression approached. His nametag read Dr. Kamaka. He told us Henry was unconscious, but resting in the ICU.

  "Unconscious? That's not good, is it?" Gabby looked stricken.

  "He had a reaction to the anesthesia. We're monitoring him closely. We'll know more soon."

  "Can we see him?" I asked.

  Dr. Kamaka frowned. "You family?"

  "Eh, bruddah, we closer than family," Gabby replied.

  Minutes later Gabby was sitting by Henry's side, holding his hand like he alone could make him live, his face a mask of grief.

  Henry lay on the bed, connected to an IV, monitors blipping steadily. His usual robust demeanor had been replaced by a shrunken copy of the big-hearted man. The skin around Gabby's eyes sagged, adding a century to his age. I walked behind him and started to rub his shoulders.

  "He's going to be okay."

  Gabby nodded as a ragged sigh escaped him.

  After a while I talked him into walking down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. The doctor had said he might remain unconscious for several hours, possibly days. We brought the coffee back to the waiting room and sat, mindlessly watching some God-awful reality show about people with big hair and even bigger egos.

  "You don't need to stay. Take the car." Gabby held out the keys to his Jag.

  "How will you get back?"

  His eyes were filled with bleak determination. "I'm not leaving without Henry."

  Before I left, I made a reservation for Gabby at a hotel nearby and asked him to call me if Henry's status changed.

  On the drive home, I called my rental company to find out what else they had available. Since it was Hawaii's high season, they didn't have a vacancy until later in the week. I asked to be put at the top of their list for another place that wasn't on the North Shore. Running into Alek was getting old. Not to mention possibly putting old friends in danger.

  Granted, I was just delaying the inevitable, but I didn't have a clue where to
run next. The old Mexican shaman's prediction came back to me with a force I hadn't felt in years.

  Apparently, the bad spirits weren't done yet.

  ***

  Within days Henry rallied, gaining consciousness and improving to the point of being able to give a statement to the police. He hadn't seen his attacker, having been stabbed from behind. The police opened an investigation of the robbery-home invasion in connection with the theft at the museum. Now that Henry was going to be fine, Gabby was inconsolable about the loss of the tiki carving.

  "That piece was my most exquisite, a representation of Kamohoali'i. It's irreplaceable." Gabby sat with his shoulders slumped on a bench outside the hospital.

  "Did you say Kamohoali'i?"

  "Yeah. It's the Hawaiian name for the Shark God. Why?"

  "It's probably nothing, but the other day someone told me I should 'accept Kamohoali'i so balance will return.'"

  Gabby straightened, his interest piqued.

  "Was this person Hawaiian?"

  "More Asian. He was older, wild-looking hair, ancient flip-flops."

  "He doesn't sound like any of the seers I've met. What else did he say?"

  "You mean there are others?"

  "Seers frequently choose to live here. In the old days, you'd probably have called them priests or medicine men. Nowadays most people think they're mentally impaired." Gabby shook his head. "It's unfortunate. In the past, these individuals were given great respect within society. Now they're shunted off to the fringes."

  "It was pretty bizarre, Gabs, although most of the folks didn't react- apparently, they were used to him. The cook told me he was a regular."

  "Locals tend to be more accepting of unusual behavior. Live and let live." Gabby took out a pack of cigarettes, shook one free and lit it with a match.

  "When did you take up smoking?"

  He shrugged, exhaling an acrid blue cloud. "I've been stressed." He narrowed his eyes. "What else did this guy say to you?"

  "That I was 'the one' and to trust a headless sea turtle." I probably remembered that wrong, but it was close enough.

  Gabby sighed. "Well, that was cryptic, wasn't it?" He patted my knee. "I wouldn't worry about it."

  "There is something I am worried about, though. A local guy, Alek, saw me with Henry the other day. He's definitely stalker material- follows me everywhere. I don't know if he's capable of stabbing anyone, but thought I should mention it. And, he's a carver. A good one."

  Gabby took another drag of his cigarette and leaned back. "Have you told anyone?"

  "I thought I'd let you know and you could do what you wanted with the information. I'm waiting to hear from my rental company so I can move to somewhere other than the North Shore for the rest of my time here."

  "You mean you have an end date?" Gabby sat up straight. "You can't leave, Kate. I don't know what I would have done without you during this."

  "If I don't, more bad shit will happen, I guarantee it." I tried to ignore Gabby's puppy dog eyes. "That's the way it is right now. I don't have a choice."

  "There's always a choice, Kate."

  "Not for me."

  After he went back inside to check on Henry, I walked through the parking lot to the Jag, mulling over what he'd said. I wouldn't have noticed the dark-haired man sitting in a black, four-door sedan across the parking lot if he hadn't flicked a cigarette out the window, drawing my attention. A knot formed in my stomach. It looked like he had the same tattoos on his forearm as the guy I'd seen at the farmer's market. I squinted, trying to get a better look at him through the car's windshield. The engine started and he slowly drove out of the lot.

  Same sunglasses. Same guy.

  FIVE

  I opened my eyes to the dark and froze, every nerve alert.

  Someone's in my room.

  Barely breathing, I strained to listen, calculating how to get to the gun under the mattress. Before I could make a move, a gloved hand clamped down on my mouth and a hooded figure straddled me, pinning my arms to the bed. I struggled to push him off, but he outweighed me by a good fifty pounds. Another set of hands slapped tape over my mouth, muffling my screams. They flipped me over and the one straddling me taped my wrists together behind me, then my ankles.

  Fear taunted me for letting my guard down, not taking enough precautions.

  They hoisted me off the bed and carried me out the bedroom door and down the hallway. I writhed and squirmed, using my body like a bad slinky, but their grip on me was too secure. They hiked me through the front door and down the two cement steps, then dumped me into the back of a SUV. One of them pulled a pillow case over my head and slammed the door shut.

  Shit. The idea of praying to some Hawaiian gods for protection crossed my mind, not to mention the Hindu, Muslim, Christian and Buddhist deities.

  Who were these guys? Salazar's thugs favored SUVs. Though they hadn't spoken yet, I wasn't convinced it had anything to do with Mexico. If it did then I'd be dead, not in the back of a truck, still breathing.

  I was pretty sure hyperventilating was considered a form of breathing.

  They got in the front and closed the doors, starting the engine. I tried to place the familiar scent of coconut and citrus, but couldn't remember where I'd noticed it before. Suntan lotion?

  The driver made a left out of my driveway and then turned right onto the Kam. I paid attention to the turns to get an idea of where they were taking me.

  Alert for any indication of who my captors were, I strained to hear them, but they didn't engage in conversation. Obviously, they weren’t after money; they'd left cash on the dresser and my jewelry in the drawer. The thought of rape crossed my mind, but I pushed it away, preferring to believe they would have done it back at the house.

  Did they think they could hold me for ransom? Only a few people had any idea I was friends with Gabby. The one person I knew on the island with any net worth, not many people realized how wealthy he really was. Most believed he lived on a professor's retirement, supplementing that with speaking engagements.

  Death was the only other option. But why?

  I curled into myself and leaned against the side of the compartment, not knowing what to do next.

  About fifteen minutes later, the driver hooked a left toward the water. That narrowed it down. There wasn't a lot of room between the highway and the Pacific Ocean. The briny sea air drifted in through the open windows, replacing the coconut/citrus scent as we bumped along a rutted track. Neither of my abductors uttered a word.

  We came to a stop a short time later. They killed the engine and I heard both doors open and close. I tensed as the rear door of the truck screeched open and one of them grabbed my legs. He slid me forward until my feet rested on the ground. Then he bent down and cut the tape from around my ankles.

  "Walk."

  The word had no discernible accent. They kept a grip on my arms and directed me where they wanted me to go, holding me steady when I stumbled.

  We covered a few yards and stopped.

  "Eight steps up." The voice was gruff, unfamiliar.

  We climbed the stairs to the top and paused again. One of them pushed me forward.

  "Six steps down."

  I counted six stairs and stopped, waiting for direction. He grabbed hold of my arm and led me forward until my legs bumped against something covered in fabric.

  "Turn around and sit."

  I did as I was told. The pillow case came off.

  Lit by a single lamp, I sat on an old chenille-covered sofa in a large room evidently being used as storage. Boxes, tarps, and miscellaneous tools littered the floor. Dampness permeated the air. There were three doors leading off of the main room. One had a padlock attached to it, while the other two were closed with no visible locks.

  The man standing in front of me had dark hair and the beginnings of a mustache. He appeared to be in his twenties, was heavy set and wore board shorts and a t-shirt. We both turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. My second captor
emerged from the shadow of the stairwell.

  Alek.

  SIX

  My face must have registered the shock I felt. He walked over and pulled the tape from my mouth.

  "Welcome to my home, Evelyn." He acted as though he just now noticed the other guy standing next to him. "This is my friend, Calvin. Calvin, this is Ev."

  Calvin nodded in acknowledgement. I half-expected someone to walk in with a couple of beers or a tray of lemonade, make it a party.

  "Alek. What are you doing? You've just committed a kidnapping. I'm pretty sure that's considered a felony in Hawaii. And," I focused on Calvin, "Calvin here would be considered an accessory. Also a felony."

  Calvin shifted from one foot to the other and glanced nervously at Alek. Alek smiled and shook his head.

  "You won't consider it kidnapping when I show you why you're here." He turned to Calvin and said something to him in a low voice. Calvin nodded and left the room, heading upstairs. Alek turned back to me.

  "You're not wearing the necklace I gave you."

  "I was in bed, Alek. I don't usually wear jewelry when I sleep."

  His gaze lingered on my bare legs and swept upward, finally coming to rest on my face. Then he reached in his front pocket and pulled out the necklace. He must have taken it off my dresser.

  "Well, you're not asleep now. Here-" He bent down and fastened the necklace around my neck.

  Citrus and coconut.

  "What's this about? Why am I here?"

  Alek sat on the couch next to me. I moved away. He slid closer and stroked my thigh, watching my reaction. I stared back at him, not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

  "You'll see. Just wait."

  Alek stood and walked over to an older stereo stacked on top of a footstool. He turned it on and the velvety voice of John Legend flowed through the speakers, filling the room. Alek executed a smooth turn followed by a couple of exaggerated dance steps. He held out his hand, as if asking me to dance. I shook my head.

  "Did you forget?" I leaned to the side to show him my bound hands. If I could get him to cut my hands free, I'd have a better chance of getting the hell out of there.