“Need any help?” Stretch called out, as Malcolm reached down and pulled Jeff’s inert body onto the platform.
“I got it,” Malcolm replied, pulling Jeff by his arms through the little door.
With Jeff face down on the floor, Malcolm took something long and white from his pocket and looped it around Jeff’s ankles. He inserted one end into the other and drew the band tight with a zipper sound. He then pulled Jeff’s hands behind his back and did the same with his wrists.
Gabby was already swimming back toward the beach. Leilani could just see the trail of bubbles moving quickly toward shore.
“She’s a pretty good swimmer,” Leilani said.
“Former Olymp—” Stretch started to say. “Oh, what the hell, she’ll tell you anyway.”
“Tell me what?”
“Her name’s not Gabby,” Stretch said. “It’s Charity Styles. She used to be an Olympic swimmer.”
“Is Stretch your real name?” Leilani asked, watching Charity sprint across the beach again, disappearing into the foliage.
“Course not,” he replied. “What kinda parents would name their kid Stretch? I could just as easily have been a midget. No offense.”
Leilani smiled up at him. “You do like me. You’re making jokes. I’m not a dwarf, I’m just real short. Most people where I come from are short.”
“It’s not a matter of like or dislike, Leilani,” the tall man said. “I don’t know you. All I know about you is that you stole money from a friend of mine. That puts you way down on the totem pole. Below even a total stranger.”
“That’s pretty harsh. You must not have many friends.”
He looked down at her and one corner of his mouth came up in a half-grin. “No, I don’t. But the few friends I do have, I know I can trust with my life.”
“Is she one of them?” Leilani asked, as Malcolm climbed back up.
“All week and twice on Sunday,” he replied, moving over and extending a hand to the other man.
Malcolm took Stretch’s outstretched hand, stepping lightly up onto the fly bridge. “He’s sleeping peacefully, but his head’s gonna hurt when he wakes up. And he’s gonna really freak out when he doesn’t know where he is.”
Stretch sat down behind the wheel and spun the seat around. He put his feet up on the rail and watched the beach. But his eyes kept straying toward the setting sun.
“What do we do now?” Leilani asked, dropping her tiny frame onto the bench.
“We watch the sun go down,” Malcolm said. “And wait for Gabby to bring us the other guy.”
“Stretch already told me her real name.”
The two men exchanged glances. To her, it seemed as if there were words moving back and forth between their eyes.
“She’d tell you anyway,” Malcolm said, shrugging his shoulders, and moving around to sit beside Stretch. “That is, if you take her up on her offer to help you go straight.”
“And you guys aren’t who you say you are either,” Leilani said. “Every time you say one another’s name, it sounds like the words are clumsy for you.”
“No, we’re not,” Stretch said, offering nothing more.
Turning on the bench, Leilani looked west, toward the setting sun. Charity wasn’t anywhere to be seen and both men seemed content to just sit and watch the sun go down.
“He’s going to think I ratted him out,” Leilani said after a few moments.
“That guy down there?” Stretch slowly nodded his head. “Probably will. He saw you up here with us.”
“I tried to duck, but you stopped me.”
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I.”
Glancing at the man, Leilani studied the side of his face closely. He seemed the epitome of cool and calm. His legs were crossed at the ankles, feet bare, long tanned legs, and powerful arms crossed on his chest, as he gazed off toward the setting sun. Even though he wore sunglasses, they weren’t so dark that she couldn’t see through them. His eyes were fixed on the horizon. Yet, she sensed that the impression he gave off was completely the opposite of reality. She felt as if she were sitting just a few feet from a deadly snake, coiled and ready to strike.
Why did he block me when I tried to hide? she wondered. He even admitted that it was intentional. Why? The realization hit her before the question was fully formed in her mind. He wanted Jeff to look up and see her there. He wanted the man to think that she’d ratted the group out. Even if all of them were arrested, Jeff would somehow get word to the others. She knew that Mister Pence had a lot of associates all over the world and would send someone to kill her. Stretch was reinforcing the woman’s offer to help her start over, by making it more difficult not to.
“If you take Charity up on her offer,” Stretch said, never taking his eyes off the sun as it slowly disappeared over the horizon, “she can make Leilani vanish completely. Like you never even existed. Start over anywhere, with a brand-new, bullet-proof identity.” He slowly turned his head and removed his sunglasses. His eyes were dark blue and conveyed a great seriousness. She could see pain there, as well. “Or get you safely home to your mom and dad,” he added.
Makuahine? Makuakane? Suddenly, early childhood memories flooded Leilani’s mind. Memories that she’d suppressed because of the sadness and longing that came with them. Her father fished. Leilani, being the oldest, had helped unload his boat when he came in at sunset. Her days had been filled with lessons at school, and when she got home, she helped her mother tend the garden behind their house and helped take care of her two little brothers. Her brothers — they’d be grown men now.
For years, she’d buried the idea of ever seeing her family again. Pushing those memories down became a habit, so powerful that even when she and Brent were headed toward Florida the thought of going home had never even entered her mind.
“I can go home?”
“If that’s what you want,” Stretch said, turning his gaze back toward the sun. “She can help you do it.”
Leilani stared at the side of his face, as he slipped the sunglasses back on. His hair was unruly, and the wind tossed it this way and that. He hadn’t shaved in some time and both his beard and hair showed signs of turning gray. There were fine lines at the corners of the man’s eyes, but they didn’t make him look old. Her father had lines like that. They became deep furrows when he laughed, and he was always laughing. The reflection of the sun in his sunglasses winked out, and at the same time, a single tear traced its way down his cheek, disappearing immediately into his thick beard.
Hearing a splash, Leilani looked toward the beach. The badass lady helicopter pilot was standing over a man who was on his hands and knees in the surf. Leilani rose and went to the rail. Stretch merely turned his head, as if there had never been any doubt that this would happen.
Charity bent and grabbed the hair on the back of Doug’s head and pulled it back, raising his face. Doug was looking right at Leilani, when Charity struck him on the top of his head with the bottom of her closed right fist. Just like Jeff earlier, Doug collapsed onto the sand, only to have a wave wash over him.
In seconds, Charity dragged Doug beyond the breakers, pulling him the same way she’d pulled Jeff. She had something clutched in her teeth, but Leilani couldn’t tell what it was.
Halfway to the boat, Doug began to thrash around, splashing with his hands and feet. Charity moved her arm, from around one shoulder and under the other, to a strangle hold around Doug’s chin. He continued to struggle for a few seconds, then stopped. Charity moved her grip back and resumed swimming for the platform.
“She killed him!” Leilani said, both hands going to her mouth. “Choked him to death.”
“No,” Malcolm said, rising, and moving toward the ladder. “You gotta maintain a choke hold for a couple minutes after a person blacks out before it kills them. He’s just taking a snooze.”
A phone on the console vibrated
and Stretch turned and picked it up, looking down at the screen. Malcolm paused on the ladder expectantly. Stretch looked over at him and said, “A message from Livingston’s computer tech.”
Clive kept looking around, obviously frustrated. Rayna and Fiona had joined him and Yvette at their table, but Doug and Jeff were still nowhere to be seen.
“They’ll be along,” Yvette said, touching his hand. “This is just a social thing. They’re always punctual when it comes to work.”
“They were still here when I took the ferry back,” Fiona offered.
Clive turned toward her. “What were they doing?”
“Just as you said, looking for a possible recruit. I saw them at the Tiki bar before I left. Then they split up, Doug going to the dock, I guess to meet the ferry, and Jeff went down the beach, talking to a blond woman.”
“And you didn’t see them after that?” Yvette asked.
“I saw Doug,” Fiona said. “I waited until everyone unloaded, before going over to the dock. He was walking away from there, talking to one of the other passengers.”
“Another ferry is heading toward the dock,” Rayna said. “Maybe they’re on that one.”
“They better be,” Clive said.
Clive detested a person’s inability to be punctual. When you were supposed to be somewhere at a certain time, you should be there. Tardiness showed a lack of respect and self-discipline.
A waiter, dressed in a crisp white linen shirt and matching shorts, approached the table and refilled their wine glasses. Others, dressed the same and working in pairs, were beginning to move large trays with big silver domes over them out to a large fire pit. A low wall surrounded the pit, well away from the flames. The trays were being lined up on the circular wall in preparation of serving dinner.
When the ferry tied up at the dock, only six people got off; three couples. Jeff and Doug were either still on the ship and not attending, or never left the island to get ready. Clive was becoming furious.
Fiona leaned toward Yvette, sitting next to Clive. “What’s the new guy like?”
“He’ll be ready by the time we board the next ship,” Yvette replied.
Rayna conspiratorially leaned partway across Clive’s lap, toward the other two women. “He’s actually been pre-trained by someone. A total slave boy.”
“Need I remind you ladies,” Clive hissed. “There are ears all around us, all the time.”
“Yes, there are, Mister Pence,” a tall, shapely blonde said, stepping up to the four empty chairs on the far side of the table.
Clive’s eyes went straight to the stranger. Her blue eyes were clear and non-threatening. Clive prided himself on being able to read people’s eyes. She stood with both hands on the back of a chair, as if waiting to be invited to sit. The dark green dress she wore was simple, and fit her well, clinging to the athletic curves of an elegantly long frame, and revealing just enough of her lean, tanned legs.
“Do I know you?” Clive asked, thinking there was no way he’d have forgotten meeting such an exquisite creature.
Slowly, the woman pulled the chair out and slid down onto it. She reached for the card tent in front of her and turned it around. It was the spot Leilani would have sat, had she not run off with Brent.
“For now,” the blonde said, her voice quiet enough to not carry to the next table. “You can call me Leilani. And before we go any further, please look at Missus Pence and ask her to describe what she sees.”
Clive started to rise, but then thought better of it. He turned to Yvette and she looked at him. Suddenly, she gasped and drew back.
“What is it?” Clive asked.
Yvette looked at the woman on the other side of the table, then back at Clive. “For just a moment, there was a red dot on your forehead.”
“That would be a laser sight, Mister Pence,” the woman said, leaning forward on her elbows. “It originates from the scope of a high-powered rifle no more than two hundred yards away. The man behind that rifle has killed men from five times that distance, so please don’t make any sudden movements. Just because the light is no longer on, doesn’t mean his crosshairs aren’t fixed on your forehead.”
Clive gulped. He had no idea who the woman was. He’d made enemies in the past, but had buried most of them. Those he hadn’t killed would have no way of knowing where or even who he was.
“What do you want?”
“You,” she replied without hesitation. “Locked up behind bars for the rest of your life, getting butt-fucked at least once a day.”
Clive paused, waiting for the woman to give the real reason for her intrusion, instead of some vulgar fantasy. She had to have been sent by someone he’d double-crossed in the past.
He studied her blank expression a moment. “Who hired you?”
“I’m not for sale,” the woman replied.
“Someone had to put you up to this,” Rayna said.
The stranger’s blue eyes turned toward Rayna. “Miss Haywood, have you killed anyone recently?”
“Of course not!” she replied, a bit too indignantly.
“And you, Miss Russo?”
“How does she know who we are?” Fiona asked, turning toward Clive.
“Answer my question!” the blonde hissed, getting Fiona’s full attention.
Fiona shrank back in her chair, as if the woman’s eyes were daggers. “No,” she replied meekly.
“I believe you,” the stranger said, then turned back to Rayna, “but you’re a liar.”
Clive glanced around without turning his head. Where were those idiots when they were needed?
“Jeff and Doug won’t be joining us,” the woman said, as if reading his thoughts. “They’ve been detained.”
“What do you mean?” Yvette asked, her eyes darting around nervously. “Are you with the police?”
Slowly, the blonde turned her eyes toward Yvette. “What I mean, Missus Montgomery, is that your days are numbered, too.”
The shock on Yvette’s face was palpable.
“Yes, I know who you are,” the blonde said. “As does the LA County Sheriff’s office. And the San Francisco Police before that.”
Yvette’s hands involuntarily moved to her mouth, gasping once more. The woman on the other side of the table smiled, as a waiter placed a plate in front of her. She thanked him, and the man moved around the table, serving the others. When he left, the woman was still smiling at Yvette.
“The two agencies seem to have received a tip,” the blonde said. “And now they’ve linked you to three other dead husbands in Colorado, Nevada, and Oregon. Those agencies are now sharing information about five dead husbands.”
“What is it you want from us?” Clive said.
The woman picked up a knife and fork and cut off a small piece of the fish on her plate, popping it into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back for a moment. “Mmm, you should try the grouper, it’s really delicious.”
“I asked you what you want,” Clive said, clearly irritated.
She took another bite, then delicately touched a napkin to the corners of her mouth and swallowed. “I already told you what I want. The only reason I’m here is to extend an invitation if one is warranted.” She turned her eyes on Fiona. “If you want to leave; want a chance at redemption and an ordinary life, now’s the time to decide. You won’t be arrested for anything. Just come over here and sit beside me.”
“You stay where you are, Fiona.”
“Need I remind you, Mister Pence,” the woman said. “A sniper is watching your every move. If I raise my right hand, my associate will end your miserable life.”
“I don’t believe you,” Clive said, becoming more certain that this was just a ruse to take one of his people away.
The woman slowly raised her left hand and pointed at the ground off to the side of their table. “I have no problem with ending th
is here and now,” she said, “but it would be very messy and ruin dinner for all these nice people. I’ll allow that you may need some proof.”
Clive turned and looked where she was pointing. There was a loud crack, that seemed to come from all directions. A coconut laying on the ground simply blew apart as he watched it. People at other tables looked up, wondering what the sound was, but Clive was apparently the only one who saw where the shot landed.
“You don’t have a lot of options here,” the blonde said, then turned to Fiona. “He can’t stop you. If you want out, come over here and join me. This is your last chance.”
Slowly, Fiona rose from where she was sitting and went around the table. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“What about me?” Rayna asked.
“You’re as dirty as they are,” the stranger said. “You killed at least three men in Palm Beach, and you’re going to have to answer for those crimes.”
“I’ll track you both down and kill you,” Clive snarled.
“No,” the woman said calmly, as she rose slowly to stand next to Fiona. “You may track me down, but only if I let you. Trust me, I know everything about you, and you’re completely out of your league. Fiona and I are going to leave now. If you’re smart, you’ll sit right here and enjoy the grouper. If any of you stands, you will die. I can’t make it any simpler than that.”
Taking Fiona by the arm, the woman turned and led her away.
Yvette’s face was an unusual pale pink, as if she’d been in the sun for too long. Clive turned toward her. “What was all that about five dead husbands?” he asked, very suspiciously.
“Who are you?” Fiona asked, as the tall blond woman walked her briskly through the interior of the island, which was mostly loose, bare sand and an occasional palm tree.
“Keep moving,” Charity said. “Leilani’s with me and I’m going to help her out of this mess.”
“But who are you?” Fiona asked again, then stumbled. “Damn these shoes.”
“Take them off,” Charity replied, pausing for a moment. “I can explain it all once we get a little farther down the beach. Now please hurry. I don’t want anyone back there to get killed.”
Enduring Charity: A Charity Styles Novel (Caribbean Thriller Series Book 4) Page 18