Pleasing the Dead (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-eight

Storm looked at the pain on Stella's face. Though it was mostly due to hearing about Yasuko's death and her concern over Tagama's welfare, some of it had to be because her hands were still fastened painfully behind her back.

Storm stood up, bent her knees to move with the swaying cabin, and slid her feet along the floorboards. She was at eye level with the outside deck, stooped slightly in the six inch rise the locked hatch provided. Two oval portholes provided what little fresh air there was. The windows were secured from the outside by large screws.

She needed something sharp, an object with enough edge to saw through the heavy plastic ties that bound their hands. One trip around the tiny room at eye level didn't give her anything to work with. There was nothing on or around the bunks, either.

She opened the door to the head. The toilet had a hand pump, and though the shaft was metal, it was smooth and round. The handle was plastic.

But the fire extinguisher was another matter. It was made of red-painted steel, and it had a metal pin and metal handles. It was also bracketed to the wall of the tiny lavatory with slightly corroded metal calipers.

Stella and Keiko had at first assumed she went into the head to use it, but when she hauled the extinguisher off the wall, they began to pay attention. Keiko got to her feet.

“See if there's anything sharp on this,” Storm said, and handed the red tank to her. It was fairly heavy and about eighteen inches in length and six or seven inches in diameter. “I'll try the bracket.”

Keiko didn't need to be asked twice. She hauled it to one of the bunks and began loosening one of the bands that attached the hose and nozzle to the tank.

The upper edge of one of the wall brackets was rough and narrow, and Storm began to work her wrist restraints back and forth against it. Each tug sent pain shooting up her arms. Blood began to flow again, and Storm gritted her teeth. The plastic was beginning to fray, though, and she kept at it.

Five minutes later, her eyes were squeezed closed against the pain and the sight of her tattered skin. When Keiko tapped her on the shoulder, she was lost in the effort and she jerked with surprise.

“Put your arms out.” Keiko held the flat blade of a box cutter in her free hands.

Storm stared. “Where did you find that?”

“Someone slipped it under the door.”

“When?”

“I don't know. We just found it.”

“You didn't see who did it?”

“Must have been Lara,” Keiko said. She attacked the ties at Storm's wrists.

There was a sharp, painful jerk, and Storm's hands dropped free. Stella stood behind Keiko with a first aid kit.

“I found this in a storage compartment under the bunk,” she said, and squeezed a tube of Bacitracin ointment along the cuts on Storm's arms. She then took a roll of gauze and covered the abrasions. Both her arms and Keiko's were wrapped, too.

“What a relief,” Storm breathed.

Then the three women looked at each other. “Now what?” Keiko asked.

“Did Lara open the door?” Storm asked.

Both women shook their heads.

“You didn't see her? Not even her feet in the crack under the door?”

“No,” Stella said. “But who else would it be?”

Storm thought for a moment. “I wonder how many people are on the boat. Lara, a driver, at least one other person to watch Lara. Probably two. “Did anyone look in on you while I was out cold?” Storm asked.

“No,” Stella said. “A man shoved us in here, and he loosened our hoods. We waited for him to leave before we worked at getting out of them.”

“He didn't want you to see him,” Storm said. “I think that's a good sign.”

“We thought so, too,” Stella said. “But why are we here?”

“Maybe because of Carmen.” Panic lit Keiko's eyes. “They're going to kidnap her again.”

“Carmen's hospital room has a guard,” Storm told her. “The police won't let it happen.” She told them about Yoshinaka's gambling debts at The Red Light.

“You're sure this is Lara's boat?” Storm asked.

“Sure, it's called the
Quest
. We've worked on it,” Stella said. “Obake must have stolen it.”

Storm looked around the cabin from her seat on the bunk. Someone had left water bottles even though their hands were tied behind their backs. It didn't make sense.

Obake so far had been pitiless. Storm would bet he wasn't on the boat. Yet, that is. Perhaps the three of them, four with Lara, were being taken to him. If Obake wanted information, their captors would be told to keep them conscious and coherent.

Storm stood up and went to one of the narrow portholes. The view was out to sea, blue as far as she could see. The dizzying vastness made her slightly panicky, and she darted to the porthole on the other side.

There she could see a sliver of coastline, a wedge of white sand alternating with rough, black boulders along the shore. But the boat was either rounding a point or was heading toward shore, because the limited scope of the window showed only a glimpse of land. The rest of the view was the same expanse of space.

There were no hotels or other buildings. That meant they probably weren't headed toward Kapalua or Honolua Bay. Those areas would be more developed. There would be people, boats, and activity. She would also be able to see either Lanai or Molokai. Unless they were already off the far shore of one of the other islands. That thought brought another jolt of alarm.

She wondered where Obake might want to meet them. Someplace isolated, where no one could observe. It was easy to get rid of people in the ocean. People often disappeared at sea, especially from boats, never to be seen again.

“How long have we been under way?” she asked.

“You woke up not long after we got going,” Stella said. “I'd say we've been on the water for about twenty minutes. This boat was docked in Kihei.”

At that moment, Storm glimpsed a dive boat off in the distance. It was way off in the distance, too far away to notice them, but just seeing other people gave her some comfort.

The dive boat got Storm thinking about popular dive destinations. There were a lot of prime dive spots on Maui, including the extinct volcanic crater known as Molokini. She put her face as close to the window as she could and strained to peer around the edge of the window frame. If only she could get her face out farther for a wider scope. Impossible, though.

Her eyes ached with the effort of trying to glimpse a view just out of sight, plus the sun was slicing through the window on the open-ocean side of the boat and heating up the cabin.

“What time is it?” she asked. Her own watch was gone, probably lost in her struggle on the floor of Damon's living room. She'd liked that watch; it was a bright turquoise Nixon surfer's watch. Waterproof, naturally. Lot of good that was doing her now.

Stella answered. “Five o'clock.”

“Then that's west,” Storm said, and pointed out the window where the sun streamed in.

“And we're heading south,” Stella said.

The sight of a big house on a bluff overlooking the shoreline validated Storm's theory. They were heading to the Makena area, toward the area around Lara's beach house. It made sense, if that's what Obake had been trying to acquire. That's where the confrontation would be, where he could rub Lara's face in her defenselessness. It would just about drive her over the edge. He had her vulnerability pegged.

Storm looked over her shoulder at Stella and Keiko. “Did you know about Lara's property at Makena?”

Stella nodded. “Her father left it to her. He bought it for a song in the seventies. It had a fishing shack on it. Barb and I used to skinny dip and drink beer there.” She smiled at the memory. “We took the girls when they were little. We'd walk the beach, looking for cowry shells and glass balls. Remember those?”

Keiko looked blank, but Storm knew what she was talking about. The blown glass balls, floats for fishing nets, were now collectors' items. Storm had looked for them with her parents, and she felt a pang at the memory. It was a good memory. She wanted to share it with her own children one day. And Hamlin, too.

She turned to Keiko and Stella. “Where's that box cutter?”

Keiko handed it to her, and Storm went to the door, where she put the palms of her hands flat on the door. She could feel the vibration of the engine through the wood, which was constructed of solid planks an inch thick, unlike the common hollow interior doors in modern buildings. The door had a small brass lever instead of a door knob, which moved freely up and down.

“Do you remember what kind of lock is on this door?” she asked.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Storm ran the blade in the thin space between the white-painted door and the bulkhead. The door was such a tight fit that the blade caught on bumps and rough spots in the wood. About two inches above the brass door handle, the blade came to a solid stop.

Neither Keiko nor Stella could remember a lock, and the only part of this cabin with which they had any familiarity was the head. Stella had been out on the boat twice, Keiko once.

Keiko, who had taken up a post at the land-side window, reminded Storm and Stella that she wasn't confident in the water. She was doing all right with the motion of the cabin, though. Better than Storm, who was beginning to feel the headachy lethargy that preceded seasickness. She was no stranger to motion sickness. Headache and lassitude were the first stage; the next would be weakness and nausea. After that, she'd be on her knees at the porcelain bowl. At that point, she'd welcome Obake throwing her into the ocean, no matter how far out they were.

They needed to get out of there. Storm went to the porthole, gasped at the fresh air, and went back to the blade she'd left sticking in the crack of the door. She'd checked the latch in the tiny head, which was a metal hook that slipped into a little round eye. It would a blessing if that were the kind of obstacle that held them in the cabin.

It was doubtful; when she tried to push up on the device, it didn't budge. The barrier felt solid from above and below, and the blade encountered it with a soft metallic click. There were probably many kinds of locks that she didn't know about, but the only other one she could think of was a bar that slid into a pocket or bracket.

So she carved away tiny slivers of paint to give the blade more lateral play. Meanwhile, the close, hot work made her dizzier and more nauseated.

“You don't look so good,” Keiko said. “Let me work on it.”

Storm lurched to the window, where she let the light breeze ruffle her hair. Then she lay down. Just for a minute.

Next thing she knew, Stella was at her side, tugging on her arm and whispering, “Wake up.”

The cabin had cooled, as the sun no longer blasted through the porthole. It was late in the afternoon, still light, but the sun was setting. Storm sat up.

“You got the door open?” she asked softly.

Keiko nodded. “I'm holding it closed. I thought we'd better have a plan.”

Storm felt the lowered timbre of the engines. “We've slowed.”

Stella handed her a half-empty water bottle. “It's the last one. We saved it for you.”

Storm took it gratefully and drank it in one go. She was thirstier than she'd thought. Drugs, heat, seasickness. This sucked. She went to the porthole. “We're a lot closer to land.” She peered out the window on the other side. “Looks like a bay.”

She looked at Keiko. “Boats are required by law to carry life jackets. If we had to swim, could you do it with a jacket?”

Storm would find it an impediment, but she'd grown up around the water. She watched Keiko's tentative nod.

They'd have to stay together. It would not be a fast or secretive getaway. Last resort, Storm thought. How many alternatives would they have?

“Let's make a plan.”

The other two women nodded and gazed at her with expectation in their alert and hopeful eyes.

Shit, thought Storm, and took a deep breath. “There's only one way out of here, so we've got to go together, as quietly as we can.” The other two nodded again.

She pointed at the fire extinguisher. “Keiko, you take that. If you discharge it, do it right in his face. Don't hesitate to clobber someone with it. Hard.”

Keiko winced, but nodded again. They were starting to remind Storm of windshield hula dancers, the kind with their heads on springs. For a moment, she wished that her only responsibility was herself. Three people meant three times the challenge of staying organized, three times the chance of a fuckup. Three times the likelihood of capture, and not one of the women would leave anyone behind. Which could be good or bad.

“Stella, you take the knife blade. Keep it hidden, if you can.”

Stella had a set to her jaw and a glint in her eye, and Storm remembered Keiko cutting the electrical wire to Pauline's house. She'd been blasted off her perch with a shock that could have killed her. Still, she'd scraped herself off the ground looking for a fight. This team was going to have to be good enough.

“Is there a galley?” Storm asked.

“No stove, but there's a sink and a small refrigerator,” Stella said.

“How about a salon, or seating area?”

“It's one space. There's a helm there, too, under the canopy.”

“Is that where the captain will be?” Storm asked.

“Not necessarily. There's a flying bridge. It's a nice, calm day, so he'll probably be up there. The view is better.”

“Is it covered?”

“It has a canvas cover that can be folded up, kind of like a convertible top.”

“And a ladder from the salon?”

“Yes, the ladder is about a four-foot climb.” Stella frowned. “It'll be hard to sneak up on him.”

Storm thought a moment. “How many people surprised you in your apartment?”

“At least two,” Keiko said.

Stella agreed. “The person who threw the bag over my head was big and strong. I think he was hiding in the bathroom.”

“A man got me, too,” Keiko added. “Right after Stella.”

“Then there was someone waiting in the van,” Stella said.

“And someone was in the back with us,” Keiko said.

“You think there are three or four people?” Storm asked.

“I haven't heard any voices other than Lara's,” Stella said. “It seems like four people would make some noise.”

“Unless they were told to be quiet,” Keiko said. “Obake's guys don't talk much.”

“Was Lara in the back of the van with you?”

“I don't know,” Stella said, and neither did Keiko. “They kept stuff between us.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Tarpaulins, maybe.” Stella said. “I smelled paint.”

“Does Damon have a van?” Storm asked. “I've only seen him drive a pickup.”

“No, but a couple of the workers have vans,” Keiko said.

“We need the element of surprise,” Stella said.

“Once we're out of here and through the salon, we need to split up,” Storm said. “If they capture one of us, at least two more are free.”

“If one of us gets captured, sit tight. We'll come back to get you,” Keiko said.

“Good idea,” said Storm.

The three of them stood for a long moment. Keiko held the door closed.

“I'll go first,” said Storm.