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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
The original sin
>> Kona
Running lights off, the yacht Wet Spot slid spectral shadow silent into the bay, running on just the hush-hush electric motor, the only sound the slosh of waves against the hull.
The 12 Filipinas, usually so full of chatter, huddled below deck, terrified of making a sound until told otherwise.
For each of the three people on the deck, the looming sight of Daren Guy's 25-foot fishing boat anchored in the starlight brought rather different thoughts.
For Daren, dressed again in blue blazer, white slacks, captain's cap and white wig, it was a return to the scene of the original sin that set this crazy past week in motion. It had also been dark when he successfully made it appear he'd been eaten by a shark, but in the process had to kill this boat's two crewmen and take their boat to escape. He'd long since stopped wishing he could go back and start over. Life seldom gives mulligans, and besides, there was too much to think about in the present. Like getting rid of Sushi and his girls and getting on with his own pursuit of multi-millions.
For Sushi Leclaire, this was the next big step on his way to becoming incredibly wealthy, while having a good time in the process. He was about to become a baron of Internet porn by turning his Filipinas into stars.
He didn't like trusting these two strangers, who also seemed to be running under the radar. But they were his only ticket, and besides, it would only be a matter of hours now until he was free of them and taking his girls to the house in the hills above Kona. Leclaire did rhyme with millionaire.
For Sonya Chan, speargun at her side, well, she was a far different woman from the one who sailed away with an old man in captain's garb after he told her Daren was alive and promised to take her to him, and then turned out to be Daren.
She later found his secret journal, and knew everything. He was not the same nice guy she thought she knew before. He was cunning and ruthless. Turned out she had some of that too, and besides, she couldn't trust him again. And the only way she became a millionaire was if Daren remained officially dead.
Daren killed the engine, Sonya tossed the side bumpers over the rail, and the yacht slid gently against his fishing boat.
"OK, here we go, Soosh," Daren whispered. "Gotta be quick, you and me off and she's turning right around again. And do not call me by my name. It's Skipper."
He paused to give Sonya a kiss." See ya soon, babe ..."
"Hold on, I need to get some things off the other boat," she said, fingering the speargun.
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com