Cherelle’s brother, Manolo, promised to swing by the store after work. He never showed and the only thing she could think was the fishing boat he worked on was running behind schedule. She prayed he hadn’t gone missing.
She was torn, unsure if she should wait for her brother or close shop and head home.
The tick-tock of the wall clock lulled her into a trance and caused her eyelids to droop. Cherelle grew tired of waiting for her brother and decided to walk home alone. After all, it was only a couple blocks from the store, on the other side of town.
The wooden barstool she had sat on for hours caused her leg to go numb. She limped to the back door, flipped the lock and then headed to the front of the store.
When she reached the front, she paused, reached inside her purse and pulled out the pocketknife her friend, Rick, had given her after tourists started disappearing.
Cherelle shoved the pocketknife into the front pocket of her jacket, stepped out into the cool evening air and locked the door behind her.
The only place in town still open was “Stefan’s” restaurant. The sound of laughter and muffled voices echoed from the open bar area and Cherelle relaxed her shoulders.
She picked up the pace and with determined steps, quickly passed through town. When she reached her small home, she unlocked the front door and slipped inside.
She quickly threw the deadbolt and released the breath she’d been holding. She had made it.
Cherelle shut the blinds and slipped out of her work uniform. She carefully hung her work jacket on the back of a kitchen chair before pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
She opened the small kitchen cabinet and peered inside. It was slim pickins for dinner. She grabbed the half loaf of bread, a jar of unopened peanut butter and carried them to the table, placing both on top of the worn surface.
Cherelle stepped back over to the cupboard, tore a paper towel off the roll and pulled a knife from the silverware drawer. After she slathered a thick layer of peanut butter on one of the slices of bread, she placed a second slice on top and took a big bite.
Still hungry after finishing her sandwich, Cherelle reached back inside the cupboard for a bag of chips and glanced at the clock above the sink. It was time to call Jimmy.
The blinking light from Cherelle’s cell phone caught her attention and she headed to her small dresser where she had left her phone charging. She pressed the “on” button and dialed Jimmy’s number.
Jimmy answered on the first ring. The two of them talked for several moments.
Jimmy had one more flight scheduled for tomorrow and then he would be off for a whole week. Cherelle was excited. The young couple planned to spend one of his days off with her brother, Manolo, fishing for dorado, a dolphin fish.
If they were lucky enough to catch a nice size Dorado, Cherelle would be able to freeze the filets and have enough fish to last several months.
They also planned a couple beach days where they could hang out and relax. Cherelle was so caught up in the excitement of planning the next few days she almost forgot her promise to ask Jimmy about the flight manifest.
“There is a man who came on the plane today. He had a tattoo on his neck. Do you remember his name?”
Jimmy paused. He had left the manifest in the hangar. The man’s name was on the tip of his tongue. “I can’t remember,” he confessed. “I left the manifest on top of the desk in the hangar.”
Cherelle lifted the blind and peeked out the window. “I will wait for Manolo to come here and then we can take a quick run out there to get a copy.”
The hair on the back of Jimmy’s neck stood up. He didn’t like the strange man, either. It was as if, when he looked at you, he looked through you.
Jimmy had chalked it up to being overtired but if Cherelle noticed it too, maybe there was something to it. One thing he was certain of, the man was still on the island, unless, of course, he had chartered a small boat to take him to one of the other nearby islands.
“Be careful, Cherelle,” he warned.
The young woman promised to call Manolo to accompany her to the hangar. She almost thought about waiting until morning, but decided it would be too late.
She hung up the phone and immediately called Manolo. “I’m home but I need you to run out to the hangar with me. I need to pick something up.”
Manolo frowned. “I’m still at the dock. The jitney won’t start. The battery is dead and we’re waiting for it to charge,” he told his sister.
It would be hours before Manolo was home! “I can’t wait.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to go alone.”
“Wait for me, Cherelle,” her brother begged. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Cherelle was already tired. If she fell asleep now, she knew there was no way she would wake up in the middle of the night to make a trip to the hangar. “No. I think I will be okay. I’ll call you as soon as I get back.” She didn’t give Manolo a chance to talk her out of it and disconnected the line.
The young woman sucked in a deep breath and headed for the front door. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.
***
Cherelle stepped off her front porch and into the alley. She knew a shortcut that would lead her from her small home to the hangar. She would have to cut through the neighbor’s backyard and walk two more blocks through a seedier section of the island before she made it to the small airport.
It wasn’t much of an airport, per se, but more of a long, low metal hangar, which housed several smaller planes Jimmy used for hopping from island-to-island. There was also one larger plane, used to fly to the main island of St. Rochelle. The main island was much larger than Kiriban and the hub of the atoll islands.
From St. Rochelle, visitors boarded major commercial planes that flew internationally. Cherelle had visited St. Rochelle many times but preferred the quiet island of Kiriban.
In fact, Cherelle and Jimmy planned to visit St. Rochelle soon so she could meet some of Jimmy’s family who lived there.
A haunting howl of a lone dog shattered the quiet of the night air. Cherelle picked up the pace and jogged the rest of the way.
The hangar was dark. One lone mercury light beamed down over the side entrance door.
Cherelle fumbled inside her front pocket for the spare key Jimmy had given her. She inserted the key in the lock, turned the knob and stepped inside.
She quietly closed the door behind her and locked it…just in case.
The interior of the small lobby was pitch-black. She swiped at the wall as her fingers searched for the switch.
Cherelle flipped the switch and bright light flooded the small area.
Jimmy’s office was to the right. To the left was a door that led to the large, open area of the hangar where they kept a few of the planes.
She made a beeline for the office, grasped the knob and pushed the door open.
Cherelle paused as she stepped inside. The office lights were on. Jimmy never left the lights on and was careful to make sure everything was off to keep utility costs down.
Jimmy’s desk, which sat on the other side of the room near the window, was neat and clean. On one corner of the desk was a stack of black trays. On the other corner was an office phone, a penholder and stapler.
Front and center was a tidy stack of manila file folders…the flight manifests.
Cherelle shuffled to the desk, reached for the folder on top, pulled it toward her and flipped the front open.
“Thunk!”
Cherelle jerked her head up. Her eyes widened and a jolt of fear raced through her veins. She wasn’t alone…
She slowly turned and in that moment, everything went dark.
***
Cherelle’s head throbbed. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. She tried to lift her arm. It felt as if it was filled with lead.
She licked her dry lips. Something was terribly wrong. She shifted her upper body and a sharp pain shot through her skull and raced down her arm.
&n
bsp; The fog in her head started to clear and she remembered she had been in the hangar, looking for a flight manifest. She had heard a noise. It was the last thing she remembered.
Cherelle lifted her hand and swiped at her forehead. Her fingertips touched something sticky. She gently dabbed at the side of her forehead. It hurt like the dickens. The horrifying realization that what she felt was blood left her breathless and lightheaded.
The young woman shifted again. Her right arm was throbbing and her whole body ached.
She gingerly ran her fingers down her arm and touched a large bump above her elbow. Without a doubt, her arm was broken, her head bleeding.
Cherelle shifted and then lifted her left arm. Something was covering her eyes. She wiggled the rough piece of cloth up and then wished she hadn’t.
She was seated upright, her back against the wall of the hanger. She lowered her gaze and stared at a thick cable circling her waist. Her eyes followed the cable to a 2x4 that ran up the side of the building.
Something nudged her right leg. Her horrified gaze shifted to the side…to a woman seated next to her who was in worse shape than she was.
The woman’s left eye was swollen shut. A large cut ran down her cheek.
Cherelle lifted her gaze to the woman’s jet black hair and bouffant hairdo.
Her eyes widened. The ship’s crew was searching for this woman!
Cherelle squeezed her eyes shut, praying this was all a bad dream.
The woman next to her was breathing heavily, as if she was having a hard time catching her breath.
The young store clerk forced her eyes open and studied her surroundings. At first glance, she thought they were alone, that whoever had tied them up had left.
She grasped the black cable and desperately tugged on the front. It was tight, the cord digging into her skin.
The woman next to her moaned in agony.
“I’m sorry,” Cherelle whispered. “I’m going to try to get us out of here.”
The woman opened her mouth. “It’s no use. He is going to kill you.”
Cherelle’s heart skipped a beat. She knew this woman was speaking the truth, but Cherelle Flores was not going to go down without a fight.
Her eyes darted around the room. Her jacket! Her knife!
She reached inside her jacket as she searched for her pocketknife. It was gone!
The woman next to her leaned her head against the metal wall and closed her eye. “If he sees you trying to escape, he will beat you,” Cat warned.
A loud banging echoed from the office area. Their tormentor had returned.
Cherelle’s heart pounded loudly as the footsteps grew louder. She lifted a horrified gaze and stared into the eyes of the man who had been in the store yesterday…the eyes of a killer.
He seemed pleased Cherelle was awake. He placed his hands behind his back and paced back and forth, the heels of his shoes clicking sharply on the cement floor. “Cat, you have company,” he mocked.
Cat moaned.
“You should have minded your own business,” he said hollowly. “Now, not only will I have to kill the pilot, I will have to kill you.”
Cherelle blinked rapidly as she tried to digest the news.
The man, delighted with the look of sheer terror on her face, paused. “As soon as the plane arrives tomorrow, I will overpower Mr. Salazar. I will let him watch as I kill you, and then I will kill him.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Halfway from here to St. Rochelle, I will toss your bodies out of the plane and my wife, Cat, and I will continue on our way. Right Cat?”
Cat did not open her eyes or acknowledge her ex-husband, Jay’s, psychotic rants. No matter what she did, she would incense him and would suffer more bone-shattering beatings. It was useless. She felt as if she was almost dead now. All Jay needed to do was finish the job.
Somehow, in his sick demented mind, he wanted to keep Cat around for a little longer. Perhaps his plan was to torture her until she begged him to kill her.
Jay strode across the floor, leaned over Cat and raised his fist as if to punch her in the face. He lowered his fist and stepped back.
Cherelle’s stomach churned and she covered her mouth. The man was mad!
Cat had stopped praying, right after the last beating and he had knocked her unconscious. She was ready to die, ready to escape the agonizing pain that racked her thin frame.
Cat’s fate was sealed. Jay would destroy her, even if it meant he would die in the process. All they could do now was wait for the plane…
Chapter 20
Rick slowed his pace when he realized the women were having a hard time keeping up with him. “Jimmy Salazar, the pilot, should be here anytime with a new wave of passengers.”
Millie had a sudden thought. What if Jimmy Salazar was somehow involved? Had he taken Cat as a cover up when his real intent was to get rid of his girlfriend?
What if the man with the tattoo was a hired hit man? People did strange things. Anything was possible.
Maybe the hitman had thought Cat was Cherelle and murdered her, only to discover he had taken out the wrong woman!
Rick forgot his promise to slow his pace and began a fast walk.
Annette and Millie jogged to keep up.
They reached the entrance to the airport. Off to the left was a small building. To the right was a large metal hanger.
Rick pointed to the small building. “That is the building for new arrivals. They check in there,” he explained.
“This way.” Rick motioned them toward the hangar.
They reached the side entrance and Millie peered through the glass windowpane. It was dark inside the small lobby. The only things visible were two small, vinyl chairs, an artificial plant and a floor lamp straight out of the 70’s.
Millie grasped the knob and turned. The door was locked.
Annette pressed her face to the pane. “Too bad we can’t get inside,” she said.
Rick flashed a mouth full of white teeth. “We can, mum. There is a hidden key!” He stepped over to an earthen-colored flowerpot next to the door and tilted the bottom. He stuck his hand underneath and pulled out a key.
Millie rubbed her hands together. “Sweet. Well, what cha waiting for man? Open the door!”
Rick inserted the key, turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The trio stepped into the small lobby.
Rick pointed to the right. “Jimmy’s office is over there.” He led the way.
Millie followed behind and Annette brought up the rear.
The door was ajar. Rick gave it a small push and the door swung open. The room was large enough for an L-shaped desk, a bookshelf, a filing cabinet and two guest chairs. The desk was neat and orderly.
Millie made her way behind the desk and studied the surface. A stack of trays was off to one side and on the other was a desk set. Front and center was a pile of manila folders.
Millie tilted her head to study the tab. “This is the flight manifest folder.”
Finally…maybe they were onto something! Millie flipped the folder open.
Annette rounded the side of the desk. She stepped on something that stuck out from under the edge of the desk. “What is this?”
She bent down and picked it up. It was a jack knife. Annette turned the small knife over in her hand.
Rick quickly crossed the room. “Tis Cherelle’s pocket knife. She keeps it with her all the time.”
“Freeze!”
The three quickly turned to face the ominous, hard voice coming from the doorway.
The first thing Millie noticed was that she was staring straight into the barrel of a semi-automatic pistol.
The second thing she noticed was the hideous tattoo on the man’s neck. It was a snake with beady red eyes. Cherelle had told them about this man.
The man waved the gun. “In here. Don’t try anything funny or I’ll shoot now and ask questions later,” he warned.
Rick kept one eye on the gun and one eye on the door
as he stepped into the hangar. “Empty your pockets and drop your belongings,” the gunman commanded.
The three quickly complied. The only weapon the girls had were Tasers.
Rick dropped the jackknife that belonged to Cherelle, along with a small handgun.
“Move!” the man shouted as he waved his gun.
The trio shuffled across the cement floor to the other side of the large, open hangar past two small commuter planes.
“We have more guests,” the gunman announced.
Millie wondered who on earth the man was talking to until she rounded the side of the plane.
There, propped up against the wall and sitting on the floor was Cherelle. Next to Cherelle was another woman, her face bruised and battered.
Millie took a step closer and almost fainted. It was Cat.
Cat stared at Millie through the one eye that wasn’t swollen. “Millie.”
The man kicked Cat’s shoe. “Lookie here, Cat. Your friends came to rescue you. Now you can watch them die, too.”
Horrified, Millie realized the man holding the gun was Jay Beck, Cat’s ex-husband. He was the man who had tried to kill Cat and recently released from prison.
“How did…”
Jay grinned evilly. “How did I find Cat?”
“The story of the missing family has been all over the news. When I found out the ship Cat worked on was docking on the island overnight, I saw my chance to finally finish what I started.”
He glared at Cat. “It’s this woman’s fault I spent the last two years in prison. I have a record now. No one wants to hire me. I had to rob a quickie loan place to get enough cash to cover my expenses to get here.”
Jay clenched his fists as if itching to strike the poor woman…again. “Cat will pay for what she has done to me. A slow, painful death is what she deserves.”
Millie shuddered at the cold, hard words of a mad man. The man was insane. He had almost killed Cat. He never should have gotten out of prison.
“You are waiting for the plane,” Rick guessed.
“Yes, and as soon as it gets here, I’ll be saying sayonara to all of you. You’re going to disappear just like the rich family, except no one will ever find your bodies at the bottom of the ocean,” he said.
Vanishing Vacationers (Cruise Ship Christian Cozy Mysteries Series Book 5) Page 12