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DNA STALKER: Revenge or Justice? (High Seas Mystery Series Book 4)

Page 14

by Diane Rapp


  *****

  Dressed in a teal sea-island cotton shirt draped casually over white raw-silk slacks, Xander Pendleton strolled down a sandy pathway with Jacquie Ludlow’s hand draped over his arm. The rakish tilt of a Panama hat over bronze-colored Cartier sunglasses gave him a look of stylish insouciance. Women found him alluring and men were envious of the beautiful woman at his side.

  Although both spoke fluent French, Xander preferred to converse in English during his frequent shipboard visits. As they walked in the sun, Xander’s attention drifted. When he failed to respond to a question, Jacquie halted and glared at him.

  “Xander, you fail to pay sufficient attention to the words I say. What is wrong that you ignore me today?” Her diamond “birthday” bracelet sparkled in the sun as she brushed a stray lock of golden hair behind her petite ear.

  He smiled and feigned indifference. “Jacquie, these unruly tourists dart about like monkeys released from a zoo. It’s impossible to maintain a conversation with so much activity to distract. We should retire to a shady spot near the stage and listen to this delightful music.” His sexy smile revealed a set of perfect white teeth.

  She cocked her head and peered into his mirrored sunglasses, attempting to judge the sincerity of his statement. Her French accent thickened as she said, “All right, Mon’Ami, I forgive you. Besides, I need the icy beverage right away. It is much too hot.” She gestured toward the courtyard just ahead. “I doubt that you will find the peace and quiet here, but the tempting smell of food makes me believe it should be ready soon.”

  Xander settled Jacquie at a table for two, shaded by large palm fronds draped on an overhead lattice. He meandered toward one of the bamboo-covered bars that offered liquid refreshments. Frowning at the green plastic cups coated with salt crystals that the waiter slid across a polished mahogany countertop, he asked, “Don’t you use glassware today?”

  The waiter shrugged. “Bare feet and broken glass don’t mix. We always use plastic at the beach, sir.”

  Nodding, Xander turned toward Jacquie, carrying the flimsy cups. Familiar faces across the patio caused him to freeze mid-stride.

  A thin woman wearing a large, floppy hat scowled at her pudgy companion. Xander heard her annoying whine. “Timothy, can’t you get anything right? I requested a rum punch, not a margarita coated in salt.”

  Timothy groaned, “Shirley, they’re only serving free beer and margaritas today. I didn’t think you’d enjoy island-brewed beer.” He indicated his own foam-topped cup and shoved the plastic margarita glass into her hand, jangling the assortment of gold bangles that climbed up her skeletal wrist.

  “Island rum borders on undrinkable but their beer is downright disgusting. Trust Kate to cheapen out on this barbeque!” she growled. “Why didn’t we bring our own coolers filled with wine like those people?” She pointed at a rowdy group of twenty-somethings, who poured wine and hard liquor into plastic cups. She sniffed disdainfully at the smoke from nearby grills. “I assume the food we’re offered today will prove inferior as well.”

  Her gaze drifted toward Xander, but he jerked around to avoid recognition. Wearing polarized sunglasses and his white hair covered by a hat, he felt grateful for the disguise. Even so, he walked briskly back to Jacquie. He chose a chair and sat with his back to his dreaded relatives, feeling tense.

  “Is something wrong, Xander?” Jacquie asked, her voice filled with concern.

  “No, my dear. I hope you enjoy margaritas. The selection of beverages was limited, although free. They also serve a local brand of beer, but it didn’t look very appealing,” he said, setting the glasses on paper napkins.

  “Merci beaucoup.” Licking salt from the margarita’s glass, Jacquie grinned. “I love the strong margarita, and the bartenders, they have included much tequila in this one.” A fluttering from above caught her eye. She scowled at the Genetics Ultra banner being hoisted over the bandstand. “That company, it spreads such propaganda everywhere! Me, I’ll be much delighted when this cruise, it is ended. If Emily, she had mentioned to me that company had chartered the entire ship, I never would have made the transfer from the Andromeda.”

  Xander tilted his head, suddenly concerned. “What’s wrong with Genetics Ultra?” he asked.

  “The company, it is inefficient and heartless! Last year, my brother Henri died. A faulty test by that company prevented him from receiving a heart transplant that was tres necessaire. Tu comprends, Mon’Ami? Genetics Ultra sent our family the apology letter and tried to offer much money. The company, they claimed a new technician mishandled the samples, but it was too late to save Henri.”

  He clasped her hand. “I’m so sorry, Jacquie.”

  She wiped a tear off her cheek and pursed her lips. “I blame the owner of the company, Kate Foster. If she operated the professional organization, mistakes like this would never happen. The family, they have launched a lawsuit that may cost her millions. The legal remedy, it may take years and fails to return Henri to us.”

  Xander winced at the anger in her voice. Would Jacquie cooperate with the group that wanted to harm Kate’s sons as revenge for Henri? He withdrew his hand and sat pondering the possibility.

  Shirley’s shrill voice broke his reverie. “If we cannot get Drew to sign these documents, we must submit the twins’ DNA samples to the court,” she announced.

  Tim disagreed. “We didn’t get those samples legally, so that might jeopardize our case, Sis. We must adhere to our original plan and trust Rose to draw him out of hiding.”

  The sound of Rose’s name sent prickles up Xander’s spine, like fire ants crawling over his skin. He brushed his neck with trembling fingers but found nothing. The sensation unnerved him and he glanced nervously about, wondering if he should contact security about Tim and Shirley’s conversation, and about Jacquie’s animosity. Sharing secrets could prove dangerous for him, but he couldn’t let Kate or the boys suffer.

  Jacquie popped up from her molded plastic chair, startling Xander. She announced, “Enough of the gloomy conversation. My gallant companion he has delivered our drinks, so I shall fetch some delicious food. How do you like your hamburger cooked?”

  He laughed. “Well done with catsup, onions, and cheese on top, please.” He watched her elfin figure wind through tables, avoiding waiters laden with trays of drinks. As a valued Chief Purser, Emily trusted Jacquie to help run the ship. Perhaps he should confide his secret to her and ask for her advice. Doubt flooded his mind as he remembered the animosity she exhibited toward Kate. He frowned and decided to wait and watch out for trouble. In the meantime he would keep track of Tim and Shirley. Perhaps they would lead him to Rose, the source of his problems.

  *****

  Esteban and Amanda entered Kate’s beach tent, followed by Jason. They sat next to Natalia and motioned for Kate and Emily to join them. Amanda stated, “Word arrived from Miami that a group of terrorists attacked the condo where Pete and Kent are staying. The culprits dropped out of a helicopter to the roof and rappelled down the side.”

  “Are they okay?”

  Esteban nodded. “Roberto and Geraldo held de gunmen off until de swat team arrived. Two of de terrorists be dead but three are now in custody and my boys interrogate. We get information about de organization and shut de doors on prison.”

  Natalia sighed. “Lot of good it did to hold a news conference to dissuade the Red Brigade from harming Pete and Kent. They just added two more names to their original hit list. How many members do you think remain in the Red Brigade?”

  Amanda gave Esteban an inquisitive glance before she said, “We’ve caught or killed ten so far, but the group had over forty years to build a para-military organization. They raise their kids with guns and knives as toys, breeding an army of cutthroats. We need to track down their headquarters, and since we’ve got more members to interrogate the situation looks good.”

  The group of twins silently listened to the conversation with somber expressions on their faces. Kimberly stood and tied the bel
t to her cover-up. “I’m starved,” she said, “and I just heard Paul’s stomach growl, right Abby?”

  “My brother has a sinkhole where most people keep their stomachs,” Abby agreed. “I think we all need to grab some burgers and beer before they’re gone.”

  Matt jumped out of his beach chair, dusting sand from his backside. “I’m game. Those terrorists can’t scare me out of a good meal.”

  Everyone laughed, breaking the somber mood.

  Felix said, “My mouth has been salivating for half an hour, but I was too embarrassed to complain. Let’s go!”

  As they walked toward the food court, the other twins protectively hovered close to Matt and Felix. Esteban and Jason followed just two feet away, while Natalia walked with Emily and Kate. Kate’s daughters chatting amiably with the other girls.

  Natalia noticed the strained expression on Kate’s face and told her, “You’re not to blame for any of this. Rose wants revenge. She might have targeted you and your girls if Drew’s sons were never available.”

  Kate nodded. “I just feel guilty about joining the Peoples Temple in the first place. I was young and idealistic. Jim Jones was so convincing in his sermons about equality. Later he scared me and I was desperate to leave. Drew never wanted to go to Guyana, but he had little choice. You know, he even contacted deprogrammers and arranged for them to take me away before I was packed off to Guyana with the other girls. If not, I’d be dead in that jungle with the rest of them.” A tear trickled down Kate’s cheek, which prompted Emily to wrap her in a warm hug. The two sisters walked arm-in-arm down the path while Natalia kept watch from behind.

  Smoky-flavored island-grown beef on toasted buns graced hungry passengers’ plates. Luckily, several distribution points allowed lines to move quickly. The twins giggled and laughed as they piled condiments onto the meat and moved along the self-serve line to add papaya, mangos, and plantain to their plates.

  Matt arched an eyebrow and poked at the plantain. “What’s this, bro?” he asked Felix.

  “Think it’s a substitute for potatoes, but then again I heard that breadfruit fills that role. Give it a taste and let me know,” Felix responded.

  Stabbing a piece of wide banana-shaped food that had been charred on the grill, Matt popped it into his mouth. “Not bad. It’s a bit like banana only not as sweet, but it will never replace fries in my book.”

  Melany and Penny both filled their plates with fruit, avoiding the hamburgers altogether. Suzanne and Tania selected grilled tuna burgers as their preference. Kim and Patsy added cheese and avocado on top of charred ground beef without buns and enjoyed tropical fruits on the side.

  Natalia sat with Jason while Esteban and Amanda took up positions nearby, close enough to jump in if problems surfaced. Jason chewed his burger with zest but never let his attention wander. Natalia nibbled bites of burger and stabbed up pieces of fruit with her fork, allowing her senses to gather information from surrounding minds.

  She detected no menace, but the twins all remained on edge. The music stopped and the band leader announced, “We will be having a lesson on steel drums. Does anyone out there know how to play the piano?”

  Matt blushed as Felix pointed at him and shouted, “My brother Matt plays the piano.”

  “Very good, please to come up here, Mistah Matt.” The band leader waved him forward and Matt glanced at Jason and Esteban.

  Was this a smart idea? Natalia wondered.

  The guards shrugged their shoulders, so Matt slowly climbed onto the stage. He wiped his hands with a paper napkin and examined the shiny surface of the steel drums. “You see these spots on the drum? They be places where notes change like so.”

  The man tapped the spots with his mallet, making the notes rise and fall like piano keys vibrating. “Is easy, no?” the man asked.

  Matt took the mallet and tried to make the drum sing. He plunked nervously, creating one note at a time until he learned to make the notes quiver and vibrate. Matt cocked his head and listened to each note he struck. “I get it,” he announced. He experimented with the notes of songs he knew and soon plucked out Blue Moon.

  “Very good, Mistah Matt. You be one smart white man.” The leader waved at the other band members and they joined Matt in playing the song with a Caribbean-beat. The crowd cheered and whistled as the song ended.

  The band leader stared at Felix. “Since you bruddah play so good, maybe you be coming up to help him?” The twins all clapped and shoved Felix toward the stage. He grinned and climbed up next to Matt.

  “What should I play?” he asked, examining the instruments the other band members used. He spotted a cigar box nailed to a long branch that had strings running from the box up the neck of the instrument. “That almost looks like a fiddle. I’ll give it a try.”

  He took the “fiddle” and plucked the strings until he established passable sounds. Then he whispered to Matt and the brothers started playing The Banana Boat Song, originally made famous by Harry Belafonte. The band leader sang a loud “Day O! Daaaay O!” and the crowd cheered as everyone immediately recognized the song. He continued singing the lyrics and the crowd joined in singing, “Daylight come and me wanna go home”, at the refrain. People got up and danced in a winding snake pattern between the tables as the calypso music continued. When the song finally ended the twin brothers received a standing ovation.

  The leader clapped Matt and Felix on their backs and proclaimed, “You be welcome at any of my shows, bruddahs.”

  Natalia worried as the crowd pressed forward to congratulate the brothers, but nothing seemed amiss. Perhaps Rose and her gang had flown off to Florida.

  *****

  Two women, dressed in CCL uniforms with colorful batik scarves tied over their hair, dragged a large empty laundry cart up next to the entrance of the men’s shower area. A stack of fresh towels was piled high on the bench next to the ordinary-looking cart. A hand-printed “Wet Towels” sign was attached to the handle bars.

  Looking around to make sure no one was watching, the older woman slipped a tube into each handlebar and loosened the back wheel of the cart that rested in the sand. Having parked their van in a shady spot nearby, the women sat on the top of a sand bank where they could watch the action on the beach and see who approached the building.

  In the distance a steel band played familiar songs with a strong calypso beat as the women drank sweet tea and ate conch sandwiches. There was plenty of time to relax while they kept watch for their quarry.

  Rose swallowed a bite of sandwich while she pondered the psychic’s strange message. Surely the woman was a fake! Jim would never try to stop their plan. How did the woman know about the name Raven Moon? It was the first time in decades that anyone had called her Raven, and that name spurred vivid memories of November 18, 1978, the worst day of her life:

  After shooting Congressman Ryan at the airport, the Red Brigade members whooped and shouted as Raven drove them back to the compound. Only Hank Martin remained calm. He sat beside her in the passenger’s seat and meticulously polished his lethal Bowie knife. She glanced at the man, who grinned at her like a wolf stalking its prey.

  Raven stiffened and returned her attention to the task at hand. She drove the Safari Wagon like an expert, avoiding potholes large enough to swallow a car as she turned up the jungle road leading to the compound. She felt excited and eager to share the thrilling success of their attack with her lover, Jim Jones. The gun strapped to her waist was still warm after firing at the traitors who planned to desert the Peoples Temple.

  She knew she killed at least one!

  As she shifted the heavy gun belt, she unconsciously rubbed the baby bump under her shirt. This might be the perfect time to tell Jim her wonderful news. Surely they would run away together now that the Peoples Temple must be abandoned. However, the recent suicide “dry runs” unnerved her more than she’d ever admit. If Jim became determined to die, she planned to disappear into the jungle. She must save her baby, Jim’s child.

  As the
Safari Wagon entered the compound, Raven’s heart sank. Hundreds of bodies rested side-by-side in the hot sun, the flies and rancid odor making her stomach roil. She stomped on the gas and headed for Jim’s private bungalow. Perhaps he was waiting for her, planned to run away from this grisly scene with her at his side.

  She prayed it was so.

  Just ahead she heard a loud gunshot and watched Drew bolt from the house. He jumped onto his new motorcycle and looked in her direction. His wide eyes met hers with a guilty expression before he gunned the motor. Raven spotted a red satchel tied to his bumper as the bike fishtailed in the soft dirt.

  She recognized that bag!

  Last month Jim had opened that bag and allowed Raven to run her fingers through hundreds of emeralds and diamonds. It was his secret stash of getaway loot. Their future had disappeared with Drew!

  Skidding to a halt she shouted orders, “Get Drew! He just murdered the Reverend and we can’t allow him to escape!”

  Hank snarled and ordered his men to chase Drew on their dirt bikes. They leaped from the Safari Wagon without hesitation and revved their engines before thundering after the killer.

  Hank told Raven, “Let me check the scene before you come inside. There might be more danger.” Five minutes later he emerged with tears in his eyes. “He’s dead, Raven. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “No!” Raven dashed up the steps and threw open the screened door. She shrieked, “You can’t be dead!” A hard knot formed in her chest as she stared at the bloody scene. Rushing forward, she tripped over a man’s body sprawled across the floor and fell against her lover’s corpse. Desperate to locate a heartbeat, she pressed her hands against his lifeless torso.

  “Breathe!” she shouted. “You can’t leave me!”

  Hatred flared in her heart. Drew had killed the only man she could ever love, and he would pay with his life! She pushed herself away from the body and examined the scene. The door to Jim’s safe stood open with piles of counterfeit money stacked inside. Evidently Drew couldn’t bring himself to pass bad money and had left it alone. Keeping a level head, she calmly filled a leather suitcase with the money. She’d make sure any survivors believed that Drew had stolen everything after killing Jim.

 

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