Hot Lava (23 page)

“Thank you,” he said, bowing his head. “And now that you’re all free again, please try to stay that way.” He grinned and nodded to them.

They, in turn, nodded back up at him. Easier said than done, I figured. Still, at least for the time being, they were, as he said, free. Perhaps, I hoped, they’d stay that way. With my eyes shut tight, I willed the same thing for my young little friend. He was, thank goodness, off to a good start.

But were we?

The crowd dispersed, leaving the five of us alone on the beach yet again. “Now what?” I asked. “We have the address, but what good will it do us? We can’t break in. The place must be totally wired. Plus, if past experiences are any indication, he knows that someone is on to him. Meaning, I think we can all assume, he’s playing it extra safe, at least until the trial is over. And with Liko very much out of the picture, Yamasuka will beat the rap.”

Strangely, though my speech was most certainly impassioned, if not a tad overwrought and overdramatic, Koni was giggling by the end of it.

“Why the guffaws?” Briana asked.

He broke out into full-on laughter. “Because,” he managed. “The Cute Dude just gave me a great idea.”

“I did?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he did?” Brandon asked. “Chase did?”

“Yep, he did,” Koni replied, nodding his head. “He said
the rap
.”

“I don’t get it,” I admitted, for the umpteenth time that week.

“That makes two of us,” Will chimed in.

“Three,” Briana said, raising her hand.

“It’s unanimous,” fourthed Brandon.

And still Koni remained smiling. “Surprise, surprise,” he said, shaking his head, well-accustomed to our dimwittedness. “Anyway, admittedly, this Yamasuka dude will be playing it safe for now. But if there’s one thing I know about men, and, trust me, I know plenty, it’s that, when sex is on the menu, safety gets thrown out the window.”

“In English, please,” Brandon admonished.

He sighed. “How did Chase get into his house the last time?” he asked, slowly and evenly, for even us imbeciles to understand.

“Ah,” I ahed. “
The wrap
. Now I get it. I got in dressed as Judy. And a horny old man will let his guard down for a sexy young woman.”

“Sexy and young?” asked Brandon. “Who are you trying to kid?”

“Fine,” I allowed. “In any case, he is a horny old man. And a horny old man will fling his proverbial window open for an able and willing female.”

“Two,” corrected our young friend.

“Two?” Briana asked. “Who, me?”

His mop of a head swung from left to right. “Try again,” he said.

We looked around, our eyes landing on the only other person he could be talking about. “Me?” asked Brandon.

“For sure,” said Koni. “There’s safety in numbers.”

“Yeah,” Brandon replied. “And there’s safety in staying put, too. I say we sacrifice the homelier one.”

“Gee, thanks,” I groaned. “With friends like you, who needs enemas?”

“Stop,” Briana shouted, hand held up high. “Before this escalates into the usual bitch fight, I say we take a vote. Those in favor of
both
Judy and Liza going to Mister Yamasuka’s, say aye.”

Naturally, the vote was three to one. I abstained, on the grounds that I didn’t want to go, either.

And then a new and terrifying thought popped into my head. “Um, but with Liko dead, and Mister Yamasuka responsible, how do we arrange all this? We don’t even have his phone number.” And then there was that great, big smile of Koni’s again. It, too, was terrifying. “Let me guess,” I guessed, “you have his number, right?”

He nodded. “It was below his address on that girl’s cell phone. Needless to say, in my line of work, it helps to have a photographic memory.”

I groaned. “Couldn’t you just take photographic memories of scantily clad surfers, like Brandon does?”

“Hey,” Brandon protested. “Don’t knock it. Anyway, kid, even with the guy’s phone number, how do you intend on arranging all this? This Yamasuka dude had a working relationship with Liko. May I remind you, we don’t.”

He scrunched up his adorable face and pulled at his meager chin whiskers, a sure sign that we were in trouble. (I know, as if all those bodies piling up weren’t indication enough, right?) “Just leave that up to me. All you two need to do is look pretty.” He paused and stared at us. “Well, pretty enough.” I started to protest, when he interjected with, “And you’ll need new sarongs, which seem to have worked for Yamasuka before. He’s already seen you in the one you own, Chase.”

That, of course, shut us up. However temporarily. I reached out my hand to Brandon. “Shall we, Liza?”

“Let’s, Judy.”

And we were off, the joy of shopping replacing our abject fear of,
gulp
, imminent death.

It was late, the store was just closing, but with Brandon’s Prada wallet waving the salesclerk down, we had no problem getting in. Thirty minutes later, our shopping bags were full. After all, what’s a sarong without the appropriate accessories to go along with it?

Unbelievably, that half an hour was all it took for our bright, young schemer to arrange everything.

“Done,” he proclaimed upon our return, all three of them lounging around our room, celebratory champagne and Coke already flowing.

“Done?” I asked, instantly panic-stricken at the thought. “But how?” I reached for the nearest bottle of booze, beating Brandon to the punch by a mere two seconds.

“Kid’s a genius,” Will informed us, lifting his glass in a toast.

“But how?” I repeated, collapsing on the bed and downing my glass in one giant gulp.

“It was easy, really,” Koni admitted, a look of pride stretching from ear to ear. “I told Yamasuka that I was Liko’s cousin, just starting a new
enterprise
on the island. I mean, I figured he knew that Liko was, well, dead, so he’d be looking for a new pimp, right? Guy like Yamasuka ain’t going to no bars to pick up bimbos to beat his ass, right?”

“I’m, um, not a bimbo, thank you kindly,” I protested.

“Oh, right,” he quickly corrected. “I meant
ladies
. Ladies to beat him.” I nodded for him to continue, which he did. “Anyway, I said that, being Liko’s cousin, I had access to his, well, stable of
ladies
. And then, adding the cherry to the sundae, I told him I was running a two for one sale. And then I asked him if he had any, um,
ladies
in mind.”

“Gee,” I interrupted. “And he asked for me, right? What a compliment.”

“Well, in any case,” he said, “he did ask for you, which was what we were hoping for, right?”

I moaned. “Guess that old saying was once again proven correct; you should be careful what you wish for, because it might just come true.”

Koni giggled, and then finished with, “Anyway, I told him you were available and said you had a partner you usually work with, namely Liza. Needless to say, he was delighted.”

“At least one of us is,” I managed.

“Oh, come on now,” Briana piped in. “This is what we were hoping for. The guy seems harmless enough.” She paused, realizing immediately the error in her assessment. “I mean sexually, of course. You go in, tie him up, beat him up, and search the koi pond. Easy as pie.”

“Too bad I’m a cake person,” I sighed, head in hand.

“I like pie,” Brandon chimed in, downing his second glass of champagne.

“You’re not helping any, asshole,” I told him.

He paused. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I mean, I hate pie, too. Well, not apple. Or cherry. Key lime, now that I hate. And rhubarb. Who came up with that one anyway?”

I threw a pillow at him. “Please, Brandon, shut up.”

He shut up, adding a quick and whispered, “And mincemeat. Gross.” The second pillow found its mark, as did a third.

In any case, as Koni had said,
done
. We were all set to go. Ready, though not raring.

We arranged to meet the next morning, Yamasuka in his black Cadillac just outside the food court, as last time. He nodded his greeting to the two of us but otherwise remained silent, just like our first outing. Needless to say, we kept quiet as well. The less said to this guy, the better. Still, we did have something up our sleeves, however short they were in our form-hugging sarongs.

He drove the same way as before, thankfully. Meaning, we were headed to where we wanted to go. And then, soon enough, we arrived.

Yamasuka led us in; we followed close behind. He closed the door, slamming it shut behind us with a
bang
. My breath got stuck in my throat. There at last was the koi pond. My heart began to pound even faster at the sight of it.

And that’s where things got tricky. Tricky-er, that is. Brandon and I had never had sex with each other before. Oh, sure, when we first met, there was, well, some chemistry. Heck, you just have to look at Brandon and you’re already on your way to a PhD in chemistry. Still, where sex was concerned, we’d managed to keep that part of our lives separate. Now we were hookers in drag, getting paid to have sex with a shrimp-dicked Japanese businessman. And a killer at that.

That’s where the sleeves came into play.

He stood in front of us and bowed. We bowed and then I slapped his cheek. A glimmer of a grin appeared. Liza echoed the gesture. The grin grew wide, wider still, as did the tenting in his slacks.

I nodded toward Liza. The signal was received, her/his sarong sleeve lifting up. A blindfold was seductively pulled out and placed over Yamasuka’s eyes. He moaned when warm leather touched hot flesh, a visible shiver running down his body once he realized who was in control.

I grabbed him by his shirt and led him to the bedroom. Luckily, it was easy to find. He whimpered when I tossed him to the bed and groaned when I held him down, then groaned louder when I applied the wrist restraints, plastic and unbreakable, a gift from Will that I had removed from my panties.

Now we were safe, relatively speaking. As far as we could see, all the cameras were outside, as were the guards, Yamasuka obviously liking his privacy. Still, we had to keep him occupied so that he wouldn’t get suspicious.

Liza unbuttoned Yamasuka’s shirt, revealing that pale torso of his, fingernail trails still visible from whatever last encounter he’d had. My friend shuddered and moved to Yamasuka’s pants, unbuttoning them, unbelting them, and tugging them down with a long, hard tug. His prick sprang up, short and thin, hooded and dripping copious amounts of precome. Liza looked over to me, and mouthed, “Teeny.”

I nodded and removed our final up-the-sleeve trick, only this one was hidden in my purse, an item I’d brought with me on vacation. Just in case. I mean, a battery-powered cock sheath with jacking action comes, no pun intended, in handy. It was quickly placed over Yamasuka’s prick and flicked on, the setting set to slow and steady, to keep him on the edge without bringing him over.

And that was my cue to get going.

Liza sat on a nearby chair, whacking him from time to time to keep him occupied while I started the search. Within seconds, I was at the koi pond, which by indoor standards was quite large. Meaning, this wasn’t going to be easy. And we didn’t have all the time in the world. Eventually, the guy was gonna spew like, well, Diamond Head once had.

At first, I scanned the round pool with my eyes, looking for any obvious inconsistencies, places a dastardly murderer would hide vital information. Needless to say, the koi pond looked just like a koi pond, with koi swimming to and fro. If there was a hidden compartment somewhere, it wasn’t noticeably visible.

In other words, I had to get in. The fish, needless to say, were none too happy with my intrusion. They moved to the opposite side of the pond, whacking the water with their thick, opalescent bodies.

“Fine,” I said to them, tossing my shoes to the side. “See if I care. Just be glad I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Sushi ain’t my cup of tea.” (Talking to fish. I know, what next?)

I bent down and tapped the tiled walls, hoping to hear some kind of hollow pinging sound, like you do in the movies. Only, with the water and everything, I just kept hearing dull thuds. I walked in a circle, tap, tap, tapping, the fish clearly pissed at all the hubbub. Still nothing. I tried the flooring, butting it with the soles of my feet. Cement. Solid as, um, cement. No trap doors, no secret boxes springing out at me.

“Hmm,” I said. “If I was something important in a koi pond, where would I hide?”

Naturally, my eyes landed on the koi themselves. Maybe the sushi idea wasn’t half bad. Then again, without a fairly sharp knife handy, it wasn’t much of an option. Plus, there were at least thirty of them. It would’ve taken far too long to gut each and every one. Besides, it seemed unlikely, not to mention difficult to achieve, that Yamasuka was hiding whatever he was hiding in his precious fish.

And then I spotted it. Oh, sure, it seemed blatantly obvious, but aren’t the best places to hide things the ones that are the most obvious, thereby making them the last place you’d look? Despite my logic, or lack thereof, it seemed reasonable enough. Anyway, Yamasuka probably didn’t even realize that X marks the spot, not seeming like much of the pirate aficionado to me. (Not unless the pirate wore a butt-plug instead of a peg-leg. Yo ho ho and a bucket of Crisco.)

But there was indeed an X laid out within the tiles, dead center. I inhaled and sloshed over to it, pounding on it with my heel. Again, I was greeted by a
thud
and nothing else. I reached down, my hands beneath the water, and tried to pry a tile free or to see if there were any gaps. Once more, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Just a bunch of angry fish shitting all around me.

“Fuck,” I sighed, hearing my friend slap our,
yuck
, john in the other room. I knelt down and stared at the koi as they grew accustomed to my presence, gliding past me as they circled around and around and around. Naturally, watching them made me dizzy (er). And, naturally, I then slipped and fell, landing,
thwack
, on my butt. “Fuck,” I repeated, with a groan.

Only my butt kept sinking. I jumped up, turned around, and glanced back down. “Ah,” I ahed, realizing what I had done. Apparently, you didn’t have to press just one tile to get the secret chamber to open; you had to press at least several of them. Fortunately, my ass did the trick, tiny and petite though it might be.