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

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The Kate Jones Thriller Series 1-4 (Boxed Set) Page 14

by D. V. Berkom


  He danced over, his hips and shoulders taking on a life of their own. Was the guy completely detached from reality? Did he think I'd be won over by a couple of dance steps? My fear factor ratcheted up a notch. He was skirting delusional.

  And dangerous.

  He leaned down and I caught the glint of metal in his hand. My body tensed, hoping he'd go for the tape and not my skin.

  "Lean forward," he said in a low voice.

  He sawed through the tape on my wrists. I brought them around to the front and rubbed at where the tape had cut off my circulation. Then he grabbed my left wrist and pulled me to my feet. I slammed the heel of my right hand against his face.

  Alek recoiled, holding his nose as blood gushed through his fingers.

  "You BITCH."

  His voice was behind me now as I raced up the stairs, headed for the door. I collided with Calvin coming up the outside steps. We both tumbled to the ground. Alek's voice reverberated from the basement.

  "Stop her," he screamed.

  Calvin shook off the collision and grabbed at me as I scrambled to my feet. I'd almost made it clear when his hand clamped around my ankle and he jerked me back. Landing on my hands and knees, the fall knocked the breath from my lungs. I dug my fingers into the ground, trying to stop him from dragging me toward the house.

  Footsteps pounded down the steps as Alek ran out the door. I flipped onto my back only to have the wind knocked out of me again as he jumped on top of me.

  "Get the tape," he ordered. Calvin climbed to his feet and ran back inside the house. Alek held his head back, breathing heavily. It didn't look like it was doing a lot of good. Blood still flowed down his face.

  Calvin returned a couple of minutes later with an old t-shirt and a roll of duct tape. Alek tore the shirt from his hands and held it to his nose, trying to stanch the blood as he slid off me. Calvin took his place and proceeded to tape my wrists.

  "Want me to do her feet?" Calvin asked.

  "Wait until we get the bitch inside." Alek removed the t-shirt. "How does it look?"

  Calvin frowned. "Broken."

  "Fuck." Alek glared at me as he held the shirt against his face again.

  Calvin stood and I struggled to a sitting position.

  "You might want to get some ice on that. And a doctor wouldn't be a bad idea-"

  "Shut up, or you'll be the one who needs a doctor."

  "Listen, Alek. This has gone way too far. You need to let me go. Now."

  He turned to Calvin. "Let's get her inside. I need a beer."

  They lifted me to my feet and dragged me up to the front door and back down to the lower level, shoving me onto the couch. With Calvin left to guard me, Alek disappeared into one of the rooms for a moment, returning with two beers. He handed one to Calvin and took a drink from his.

  "We'd better tie her up if you're going to keep her here." Worried wouldn't begin to describe the look on Calvin's face.

  Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

  "If you do, it'll just compound the crime, guys." I looked pointedly at Calvin. "This will mean years, buddy. Think about that. Handsome man like you, I bet you'd be pretty popular in prison."

  "I said shut it. Don't listen to her, Cal." Alek took another drink of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Cal began to pace. Alek stared hard at him, and he stopped.

  A few moments ticked by before Alek's expression softened.

  "We got off on the wrong foot, Ev. I'm sorry. I only wanted to show you something I've been working on." He reached for my hands and pulled me to my feet. "Come with me."

  "What do you want me to do?" Cal played the heavy well, next to Alek's sleek persona.

  "Stay out here, in case she runs." He glanced at a baseball bat standing in the corner. "Use that, if you need to."

  Quite the romantic.

  Alek led me across the room to the padlocked door and unlocked it with a key from his front pocket. He pushed the door open, flipped a light switch and stood aside.

  Spots illuminated three large wooden statues in various stages of completion in the middle of the room. A layer of saw dust covered the floor. Off to the side was a table with several smaller pieces. He walked to the table, motioning for me to follow him.

  "This is the one I want you to see. They chose me for the honor."

  Alek held up a carved statue about eight inches tall, made of what looked like bone. It resembled the photograph I'd seen in the newspaper story about the museum theft.

  Alek stole the statue?

  Did he kill, too?

  "Is that what I think it is?"

  Alek beamed, his smile of pride tracing a cold path down my spine.

  "I'm supposed to recreate it, exactly."

  "What will you do with the original?"

  "They're going to give it back, as soon as I'm finished."

  They. Maybe Alek hadn't killed the volunteer.

  "Who are 'they'? Did you steal the statue?"

  He scoffed at the question. "No. They didn't want to chance my getting caught. They used somebody else, someone with more experience."

  Relief swept through me, although it was short-lived. Alek placed the statue back on the table.

  "Pretty cool, huh?"

  "Are you serious? Alek, someone died because of this."

  "They lost their life, true, but they should be proud of their contribution. The ancient rites were followed. It's the only way to restore the balance."

  Restore the balance? Hadn't Crazy Ray at the shrimp truck said something about that?

  "Who thinks balance needs to be restored? What does that mean?"

  Alek sighed as though speaking to a child.

  "So much development on the aina- the land- has ruined things. The old ways need to be honored, or the spirits will do it for us." He shook his head, concern evident in his face. "It won't matter who you are, then. Everyone will die. The gods have much power. You've seen what Kilauea can do. It will be much worse, unless we fix things." He bowed his head. "It's a deep honor to be a part of righting old wrongs."

  He replaced the tiki carving on the table and took me by the arm to stand in front of one of the large statues.

  "This is a statue of Kamohoali'i, the Shark God. He is the father of Nanaue, the figure on your necklace, and one of the most powerful gods in the islands. My uncle says he will finish this one soon, and we’ll be able to hold the sacred ceremony. " He pointed at the other two statues. "That is Kane, Bringer of Light, and the other is Ku the Hawaiian God of War." Alek reached up to stroke my hair. "His wife was named Hina. She was a goddess, like you."

  I jerked my head away.

  "This has gone far enough, Alek. Let me go. I'm not your Hina, not by a long shot." My anger got the better of me and I continued, my voice dripping sarcasm. "And you're certainly no Ku."

  At first, Alek looked surprised, but that was quickly replaced by a tightening of the skin around his mouth. His eyes darkened, the anger I'd seen before beginning to build in intensity.

  He grabbed me by the arm and threw me against the wall. I struggled to maintain my balance as he advanced, fists curled, ready to strike. I widened my stance, went into a crouch and charged him head on, taking him by surprise. He fell backward and slammed into one of the large statues, knocking it over with a crash. I turned and ran.

  I'd almost made the stairs when Cal grabbed me. He held me in a grip so tight I could barely breathe.

  "That's it. We pau." Alek had picked himself up from the floor and was in the process of righting the statue. "I've done everything I could."

  "What are you going to do with her?" Cal grip tightened as I struggled to break his hold.

  "Lock her up. We'll wait until my uncle gets home. He'll know what to do."

  ***

  The moonlight against the statues cast eerie shadows across the sawdust covered floor. At least the shapes were discernible. Cal had re-taped my ankles and left me sitting propped against the far wall, in the dark.


  No water. They must have figured I wouldn't be there long. I wasn't sure that was such a good thing. Alek's uncle was an unknown quantity. Best case scenario, he'd be horrified at what Alek had done and release me.

  Yeah, and I had a knack for attracting the right people.

  Who was I kidding? Alek screwed me the minute he showed me the statue from the museum, and compounded that by locking me in the same room. No way to deny knowledge of its existence. Not to mention admitting he knew who killed the volunteer.

  I was dead.

  A heavy hip hop beat from upstairs reverberated through the ceiling, punctuated by the occasional sound of laughter. Apparently, Alek and Cal had continued the party.

  Knees up, I pushed at the floor and slid up the wall to a standing position. I stopped short as the hot sting of something sharp pierced through the thin material of my t-shirt. Alek had checked the area for tools before he left, but apparently he'd missed something else. I arched my back and elbowed my upper body away from the wall. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the point of a nail protruding from the paneling.

  Maneuvering into position, first I worked on poking through the tape covering my wrists. Once the nail went through, I pulled up, trying to rip through it. One thing about duct tape: it's elastic. It took several attempts before I'd achieved a small tear near the edge.

  Focused on freeing myself, I failed to hear the door open. When I realized someone had entered the room, I looked toward the door and froze.

  Alek stumbled across the room and stopped directly in front of me, the smell of alcohol thick.

  "You don' un'erstan' anything." he slurred.

  I turned my face so I wouldn't have to breathe the fumes.

  "You're Hina. You an' I will rule the islands after the ceremony." He caressed my face with clumsy fingers all the while swaying on unsteady feet. I kept my head turned away.

  He lost his balance and staggered against me. Too late, I tried to sidestep him, but he'd grabbed onto my t-shirt. He lurched past me, ripping the material, only to catch himself with a hand on the wall. Alek turned and stared at the rip in my shirt, now barely covering my shoulder.

  He stepped closer, hooked a palm behind my neck and pulled me toward him, whispering, "My Hina."

  The smell of stale booze turned my stomach. Saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth. I arched away from him, but he was too strong.

  Then Alek's eyes drifted past me, his expression replaced by one of surprise. He let go of my neck.

  "Dude, you're here." He stepped toward the door. "I told her -"

  "Go to bed, Alek."

  The quiet, steel-edged voice gave me goose bumps, and not the good kind. I turned my head to see who had walked in.

  Alek's uncle.

  SEVEN

  "Aw, man, no way. She'll come 'round, I know she will."

  "Why is she here?" His fierce expression made my throat dry. This wasn't somebody's happy Uncle Bob.

  "I just wanted her to see…"

  "Go to bed, Alek," his uncle said, again. This time there was no mistaking the intent.

  Alek mumbled something unintelligible and stumbled out the door. His uncle gave the room a cursory glance. Then he turned his attention on me.

  I didn't like the look in his eyes.

  His hand closed around my upper arm like a steel band. He lowered his head, pulled me toward him and threw me over his shoulder. I screamed and kicked, but the man was built like a bull. He handled me as though I weighed nothing.

  He carried me outside and into a garage a few yards from the house, and dumped me hard onto the floor. I remained quiet, trying to conserve energy. Then he disappeared behind a bulky, tarp-covered shape in the middle of the structure. I knew I wouldn't have much of a chance if I stayed where he left me. With some difficulty, I wriggled onto my forearms and knees. Stretching forward with my arms, I dragged my knees up to meet my elbows. Stretch the arms. Slide the knees forward. Stretch the arms. Slide the knees…

  A pair of feet wearing leather flip flops came into view. I sighed in resignation as he lifted me by the armpits and dragged me across the dirt floor without saying a word. This time, he deposited me on a wooden chair on the far side of the garage. I tried to stand up, but he shoved me back.

  He held a long white rope in both hands. I was sure he was going to use it to strangle me. Instead, he wrapped it around my torso, securing me to the chair.

  Next, he walked over to the tarp and began to pull it off. Underneath was a gleaming wooden outrigger canoe resting on a trailer. Intricately rendered Hawaiian designs decorated its hull and spars. The outrigger itself was attached by complex knots of interlocking rope.

  "It's beautiful. Did you use Koa?" Couldn't hurt to try flattery.

  He registered surprise at my question.

  "You know traditional style?" He rolled the canvas and stowed it on a shelf next to the wall. "Yeah, wood is Koa. Everything follows ancient ways." His eyes glittered in the harsh light from the lone bulb hanging from the ceiling.

  It has all the hallmarks of a secretive Hawaiian sect active centuries ago, Kate. The group was shunned by the Kahunas for their unrelenting use of torture. Gabby's words came back to me like a blow to the gut. A cold sweat began to form on my skin despite the humidity.

  Alek's uncle walked outside, swallowed by the dark, leaving me alone. I tested the ropes holding me to the chair, but he'd done a good job with the knots. I needed to get out of there, now, or I wouldn't see morning. I heaved myself forward, onto my feet, but found the chair too heavy for me to move anywhere. With a frustrated sigh, I leaned back and the chair fell into place with a thud.

  Not seeing any other options, I worked at the tape around my wrists, pulling and stretching, trying to get it to split further. I was rewarded with a slight ripping sound, but still had a long way to go.

  A few minutes later, the large SUV Alex had used to transport me backed into the garage to the trailer and stopped. The taillights went out and the driver's side door opened with a metallic screech. I peered around the end of the canoe to get a better view of the driver. Alek's uncle climbed out and shut the door. He carried a full-length, opaque dry cleaning bag much thicker at the top than the bottom.

  I'd thought shoulder pads had died with the eighties. He opened the back door and carefully laid the bag across the seat. Straightening, he backed away from the vehicle, carrying something with both hands. As he drew closer, I realized it was a large stone with a carved channel around its circumference, which he carefully placed inside the canoe. Then he tossed in what looked like a crudely fashioned rope.

  He walked next to the chair and untied me. Then he picked me up, kicking and squirming, and carried me to the front of the SUV, opened the door and slid me into the passenger seat. His face like stone, he reached over and buckled my seatbelt.

  "Thanks. Wouldn't want to go through the windshield or anything."

  He grunted and shut the door. Grateful he hadn't noticed the tear in the tape, I leaned forward and continued to work on it.

  A few minutes ticked by, and the tape gave a little more. The driver's door opened. I eased back in my seat. He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

  We pulled out of the garage and drove past the house, toward the water.

  "Where are we going?" I asked. Whether he told me or not was irrelevant. Although it was a long shot, establishing some kind of connection with him might humanize me to the point of creating guilt or remorse at what he planned to do.

  Pretty obvious this wasn't going to be a romantic flotilla for two.

  He stared ahead, his expression unreadable.

  "You find out. Be patient."

  "Patience has never been my strong suit." I glanced out the window, trying to gauge where we were. In case I got lucky. The stars glimmered brilliantly this time of night. It looked like someone had scattered a handful of white diamonds across inky black velvet. It occurred to me it could be the last time I'd see a star-lit night.
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  "What's the significance of the statue? Couldn't you have Alek recreate the piece from photographs?"

  Alek's uncle shook his head and muttered, "Stupid Haole."

  "Yes, I'm ignorant. Enlighten me. Obviously, your secret will be safe."

  Especially if he succeeded in my death.

  He tapped a finger on the steering wheel, apparently considering if he should answer. Then he sighed deeply.

  "Old stories say we must use original carving. Has powers reproductions do not possess."

  "Did you have to kill the volunteer? What was her name, Sonja?"

  "A blood sacrifice was needed. Her soul is now at peace."

  "Didn't sound like a real peaceful way to die. In fact, it appeared to be especially brutal."

  He glanced at me. Even in the dim light of the dashboard, I could see anger flash in his eyes.

  "How you know how she died? It wasn't reported. Even Alek doesn't know details."

  I shrugged, not wanting to implicate Gabby or the night guard. "I heard it from someone."

  He grew silent, his mouth set in a firm line. Good. Maybe now he had a small, niggling doubt about who knew what.

  Not that I had any illusions it would prolong my life.

  The truck broke through brush on each side as the road ended and we rolled onto a sandy beach. The smell of the sea air that once brought peace now held an element of threat. He maneuvered the truck so the trailer was as near to the water as possible, then climbed out and shut the door.

  Again, I leaned forward to wrestle with the tape around my wrists. Alek had wrapped them several times which made it difficult to rip through each layer. I glanced out the back window to watch what the uncle was doing. The red glow from the taillights gave him a demonic look.

  The hand crank clanked as he slid the canoe off the trailer. I knew he'd finished when the back of the truck jacked upward. I leaned into the seat as he opened the rear door to grab the dry cleaning bag. He walked to the front of the truck and stood in the headlights with his back to me and slipped the plastic off, letting it fall to the ground. He pulled off his shirt and wrapped himself with what looked like an ornate, floor-length cape with a hood. When he turned, my breath caught in my throat.

 

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