by Meryl Sawyer
"Vanessa, when do you intend to leave?" She carefully broached the subject, the blackmail threat uppermost in her mind. Had Big Daddy anticipated this divorce? Was the bloody knife a warning meant to keep Dana from helping her sister?
"I'm going back to Honolulu with you."
"Remember that knife and note I told you about?"
"Sure. You found out it was some kind of joke, right?"
"No. I think it's a blackmail attempt. Your intuition may have picked up on something when you said it was the Coltranes."
"Impossible. No one knows anything about that night except us. I was just being paranoid when I said it was the Coltranes."
Dana expelled a deep breath. Lordy, Vanessa could be unbelievably stubborn sometimes. "The knife was exactly like the rabbit-skinning knife that hung in the shed. Someone knows."
"Well, I didn't tell anyone."
Vanessa wheeled the Range Rover onto the private side road with an electric gate and a large orange sign that read: kapu. The literal translation of the word based on ancient Hawaiian meant forbidden, but throughout the islands today the sign meant keep out.
Dana thought the older meaning better fit the Coltrane ranch. There was something forbidding about the place. Oh, it was beautiful, more stunning than most island resorts. But Dana was never quite comfortable there. With each visit her wariness increased.
Vanessa pressed the remote control and the gate swung open. Just beyond it was a huge painted sign: KAU RANCH. Below the letters was a painting of a steer wearing an orchid lei. The cow looked so happy you'd never think all the Coltrane cattle were destined for the slaughterhouse.
When Dana had first met Big Daddy she'd asked him what kau meant, and he'd claimed it meant king. The ranch had originally been called Coltrane Ranch, until Big Daddy had renamed it Kau Ranch. King. It fit, all right.
Coltrane considered himself a king. He was obsessed with old Hawaii, when the white settlers ruled the islands like feudal kings. It wasn't until much later that Dana's friend on the court, Gwen Sihida, told her that kau meant king shark. In Hawaiian lore shark gods played a predominant role, and Kau, king of the sharks, was by far the most troublesome. And dangerous.
"Vanessa, I hired an attorney to represent us… just in case. We have to be prepared to take on the Coltranes. Assuming they don't know about the knife, the blackmailer may tell them if your divorce gets nasty."
"You know best." Vanessa sounded so trusting. It was hard to believe that only a few years ago their roles had been reversed.
"Is there anything I should know about the Coltranes?" Is there anything you haven't told me, Dana silently added. All this was so unexpected.
"No. But sometimes… well, sometimes Big Daddy finds out things long before you think he will. I don't talk much on the telephone—I think he listens on one of the extensions."
Ahead of them the ranch house was a modern creation set on a rise and flanked by several smaller houses and clusters of guest cottages. All the buildings faced the sea, which beckoned on the distant horizon, a mirrorlike glimmer in the midday sun.
Hidden by a grove of trees were the stables and paddocks. Near the mammoth barn was a bunkhouse where the paniolos lived. The cowboys' quarters were constructed Hawaiian style, like the other buildings, with bleached wood to reflect the sun and huge louvered windows to admit the cooling trade winds.
The main house was shaded by lacy jacaranda trees and ferns so tall they brushed the roof. Drifts of rare orchids with deep throats of scarlet or lavender grew in the shade. An arched bridge brought guests across a lagoon of koi fish to the double-wide doors of polished teak.
Eustace, the housekeeper who'd taken over when Big Daddy's wife died leaving him with two sons, greeted them. Stern-faced and as wide as she was tall, Eustace wore the Kau Ranch uniform, a violet muumuu with splashes of white orchids. She was flanked by several servants, who took Dana's suitcases.
The interior of the house was a series of huge rooms with vaulted ceilings and soaring glass that rose two stories above the marble floors, creating an illusion of cool tranquillity, of being part of the spectacular landscape. When the weather was nice, as it was most days, the glass slid into wall pockets to allow the gentle breeze to blow up the green valleys into the house. Display cases in the whitewashed wood walls contained priceless Hawaiian art and artifacts that had been collected by Big Daddy's great-grandfather.
Spotlighted on a wall was one of Big Daddy's own contributions to the collection, Duke Kahanumoku's longboard. Surfing, a sport of ancient Hawaiians, was almost a lost art in the twenties when Duke built his longboard and took to the beach off Waikiki. Fascinated tourists made surfing—and Duke—world famous. Surrounding the wooden board, which was much longer than contemporary surfboards, were three stuffed sharks, looking every bit as vicious as they'd been when Big Daddy had speared them off the Molokini Crater. Each time Dana visited, he told her how he'd single-handedly killed three sharks in one day.
At first Dana thought he'd forgotten he'd already told her the story. She later decided there was nothing wrong with Big Daddy's memory. He simply loved basking in his own glory.
"You're in Makai House," Eustace informed Dana.
Dana arranged to meet Vanessa by the pool later and followed the men with her suitcases along the crushed-lava rock path to a small cottage. As soon as she entered she saw why it was called Makai House. Makai—toward the ocean. The cottage faced the sea, with an awesome view of the water and the blown-out cone of the Molokini Crater rising from the waves like the crown of an ancient Hawaiian king.
The cottage was too small, she realized with a jolt of alarm. It had a sitting area with a love seat and a chair that was adjacent to a king-size bed. There was an alcove with a minibar and beyond it a marble bathroom with a sunken tub.
She couldn't possibly share these quarters with Rob. She'd always had one of the two-bedroom bungalows, and she hadn't expected this visit to be any different. She marched back to the main house, but had no luck in persuading Eustace to give her a bigger cottage. Lots of guests would be arriving to celebrate Big Daddy's birthday on Saturday night. There wasn't any other cottage available.
Dana returned to Makai House and surveyed the situation. She could sleep on the love seat and let Rob have the bed. Six nights. It sounded like a life sentence with a man that she didn't quite trust. Today she'd purged Rob from her thoughts. Well, most of the time anyway. The emotional aftershock of that kiss was undeniable. How could she have kissed him like that?
She'd never lost her composure when other men had kissed her. Temporary insanity, she decided, reluctant to admit that she was actually attracted to him. Rob Tagett frightened her. Massive shoulders. Intimidating height. But it was much more than the threatening power of his body that disturbed her.
And it was much more than the ugly rumors she'd heard about him.
He'd been studying her. How else had he detected her dyed hair and her penchant for sexy undies? Add his talent for keen observation to his skill for assassinating people in print and she might as well be swimming with one of Big Daddy's deadly sharks.
What choice did she have?
She stretched out across the bed, listening to the birds singing in the jacaranda trees and the lulling sound of the ferns brushing against each other as the wind softly swept through the glade of ferns and wild orchids where the cottage was located. Her head on the pillow, she listened to the "oh-oh" call of the islands' most elusive bird, the 'o'o.
She must have fallen asleep, she thought, jerking upright with a neck-wrenching jolt, not realizing at first what had awakened her.
Another keening wail pierced the bosky stillness. A child's cry.
6
Dana sprinted up the path to the main house, drawn by the sobs. It had to be Jason; he was the only child at the ranch. As she crossed the terrace Dana could see into the house. Eustace was kneeling beside Jason while Big Daddy towered over Vanessa's young son.
Nearby were Eric and T
ravis Coltrane, but neither of the brothers appeared particularly concerned about the sobbing five-year-old. Dana saw their blood-splattered clothes and knew they'd killed the pig. She could just see them "sticking" the cornered animal with the knives that were now in scabbards at their sides.
And Jason had been forced to watch.
"Shut him up before his mother hears him," Big Daddy told Eustace.
A white-hot flare of anger rocketed through Dana. Swear to God, if she'd had a gun she would have shot the three of them. She charged into the room. "What have you done to him?"
Big Daddy raked his hand through his arctic-white hair, which swept back from his face in thick waves and emphasized jet black eyes and matching eyebrows that shot upward like a Russian dictator's. "The boy's pussy-whipped. Started bawling the minute the dogs cornered the pig."
"W-Wilbur," Jason got out between sobs, reaching his little arms out for Dana.
She took him from Eustace and cradled him against her bosom with an overwhelming surge of affection. As young as he was, Jason sensed he could trust her even though he didn't see her as frequently as he did the others in the room. She kissed Jason's blonde head, silently praying that all he'd inherited was the Coltranes' square jaw and distinctive cleft chin. She didn't want him to be anything like these men. "Honey, who's Wilbur?"
He lifted his head from the crook of her neck. "Y-You know, Charlotte's friend Wilbur."
It took a second for it to register that he'd thought the pig was the one from Charlotte's Web. Dana had given him the book at Christmas, and she'd been the first one to read the story to him. To Jason, the sticking had been like watching a beloved pet die.
"The dogs jump on Wilbur and bite him bad." His blue eyes—so like his mother's—were swimming with tears. He sniffed and swiped at his runny nose with his fist. "R-Rambo tore Wilbur's ear off." Imagining the dogs attacking the trapped pig, Dana gazed into Jason's eyes and saw the anguish of innocence destroyed. The charming world of Charlotte's Web, where pigs talked to spiders, had been cruelly wiped away in a bloody pig sticking.
She knew only too well how one traumatic incident could emotionally cripple someone for life. She never dwelled on the past, but she was intelligent enough to know her psychological scars came from that horrible night. She didn't want Jason to suffer for years because he'd been forced to watch this.
"Den they cut Wilbur." Jason pointed an accusing finger at his father and grandfather. "He cry and cry, but they don't stop cutting him."
She longed to scream at the Coltranes, but she didn't. There would be time for that later. It wouldn't do Jason any good to see adults fighting. "Honey, it wasn't Wilbur. It was a bad pig."
"Hell. I tried to tell him that," Big Daddy interrupted, "but he wouldn't listen. Started crying like some pantywaist."
"You're barbaric," Dana said, certain Jason didn't know what the word meant.
Vanessa burst into the room, her wet hair dripping on her shoulders. Obviously she'd just gotten out of the shower and heard the crying. Her beautiful face was contorted with an emotion too intense to be mere anger. The only other time Dana had seen her this upset had been that night so long ago.
"You bastard!" she yelled at Big Daddy. "You won't be satisfied until you ruin my son!"
"You coddle him too much," Big Daddy said, his tone placating. He reached out to put his hand on her arm, but she jerked away.
Vanessa wheeled around to face her husband, Eric was standing behind his father, his hands crammed into the pockets of his blood-splattered jeans.
"I want a divorce," Vanessa said, her voice now deadly calm.
Eric glared at his wife with black eyes that were exactly like his father's; he shrugged, clearly conveying his indifference to his wife. Dana battled the urge to slap him.
Travis, standing nearby, spoke up. "Hey, Vanessa, babe, you're overreacting. So the kid freaked. He'll get over it." Travis pointed at Dana, who was rocking from side to side, comforting Jason. "See? He's already belter."
Vanessa ignored Travis. "I mean it." She glared at Eric. "I want a divorce."
"Okay by me," Eric responded, then looked at his father.
"You'll change your mind," Big Daddy said with such characteristic confidence that Dana gritted her teeth instead of responding in anger.
Dana grabbed Vanessa's arm with her free hand. "Let's put Jason down for a nap." At the door she paused and looked over her shoulder, "I wouldn't bet on Vanessa changing her mind, Big Daddy."
Side by side they walked out of the house and across a lawn that would put most golf courses to shame. On the far side of the swimming pool that looked like a mountain lake and a row of cabanas was the house Vanessa and Eric shared. Already Jason was half-asleep, exhausted from crying for so long.
Vanessa opened the door to her home, which was a smaller version of the main house, with floor-to-ceiling windows that accentuated the panoramic view and vaulted ceilings. They went into Jason's bedroom and put him to bed.
"Mommie," he said, his voice groggy with sleep, "don't leave me."
Dana watched as Vanessa kissed her son's forehead and said, "I won't. Aunt Dana and I will be sitting right outside your door." She pointed to the French doors that opened onto a redwood deck outside Jason's bedroom.
Vanessa and Dana slipped outside and sat in bent-willow chairs surrounded by an armada of toys. Dana could still feel Jason's little arms around her neck. She never thought that she wanted children. Oh, she liked them, but she never considered having her own. Now she had a glimpse of what she'd been missing. She wanted a home and a family; her life wasn't going to be complete without a child.
"I've been thinking," Vanessa said, her voice so low that Dana had to lean toward her to hear. "I'm going to act as if Big Daddy's right and I've decided to stay here. I don't want him to suspect that I'm really leaving. He has enough men here to stop us from taking Jason. On the night of his birthday luau we'll go. It'll be hours before anyone misses us."
"What about the knife I received in the mail? That might be Big Daddy's weird way of warning me about helping you. If he knows what happened, there isn't a judge in the country who wouldn't give Eric full custody of Jason."
"It doesn't sound like something Big Daddy would do. He would have picked up the telephone and threatened you himself. Besides, this is the first time I've ever mentioned divorce. He wouldn't have any reason to warn you."
"Maybe," Dana halfheartedly agreed.
"Whatever you do, don't discuss this when anyone can overhear you," Vanessa warned. "I swear. The walls have ears. Eustace and her helpers must tell Big Daddy everything."
Hours later Dana was just putting on her lipstick, already dreading going to the main house for a tension-filled dinner, when she heard a knock on her door. She swung it open and found Big Daddy standing there with two glasses in his hand.
"Champagne," he said as he offered her a glass. "I thought we should have a drink before dinner." Dana reluctantly took the glass as he swept past her through the small cottage to the open doors that led out to the deck. She wanted to throttle him, to scream what a heartless bastard he was, but she and Vanessa had a plan. Besides his two burly sons, Big Daddy had a phalanx of servants and a bunkhouse full of paniolos. No doubt about it; they could physically prevent Vanessa from taking Jason.
As much as Dana hated indulging this pompous jerk, she had no other choice, so she followed him outside and stood on the deck, sipping expensive champagne and looking at the sunset. The sun's crescent was barely visible, firing the rim of the Molokini Crater with golden light. The submerged volcano had blown its top eons ago and was now a popular dive site. Dana had been promising herself for years that she'd dive there and see what it was like to swim with the sharks. As she waited for Big Daddy to speak, she realized this might be her last trip to Maui.
Who knew what the future held?
"I've decided to set Vanessa up in a business of her own. What do you think about a boutique in Makawao?"
Big Daddy
rarely asked anyone's opinion on anything. Just asking the question showed he was concerned that Vanessa might actually divorce his son.
"Vanessa has never mentioned to me that she was interested in having a boutique."
"Well, she shops enough. A boutique would be right up her alley." He drained his glass. "Vanessa's too focused on Jason. He's growing up. She needs to learn to let him go."
Dana had to grip her glass firmly to keep from tossing her champagne in his arrogant face.
"Vanessa listens to you. Since she's not going to be able to have any more children, she needs an outside interest."
Dana took a quick gulp of champagne. Why couldn't Vanessa have any more children? She'd never mentioned not being able to have another baby. What was going on here? Vanessa wasn't telling her everything.
"I have no intention of letting Vanessa take Jason away." There was more than a note of menace in his voice, and Dana held her breath, waiting for him to mention the knife and the note.
When he didn't, Dana asked, "What does Eric say? After all, he's Jason's father."
"Nothing. My sons are as worthless as tits on a bull. Do you seriously think they can lead Coltrane Consolidated into the twenty-first century? I need Jason."
She nodded, surprised that he understood what mental lightweights he'd fathered. True, both Eric and Travis were outrageously good-looking, with full heads of hair that would turn a lush white like their father's and square jaws with cleft chins that belied their weak personalities, but they weren't intellectually capable of—or interested in—running a multifaceted company.
The original Coltranes had made their fortune in macadamia nuts. Local society matrons liked to dip the nuts in warm chocolate and eat them. Soon the Coltranes began exporting not only nuts, but boxes of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. Big Daddy's great-grandfather had also purchased the rich pastureland at the base of Haleakala and began raising cattle.