Caribbean Hustle (A Nick Teffinger Thriller / Read in Any Order) (16 page)

45

Day Six

June 9

Monday Evening

Beaten with exhaustion, Teffinger lapsed into a deep, cavernous sleep when he got back to the villa, not to open his eyes again until hours later when evening was thick over Haiti. He bolted upright with a racing heart, only to find Angel sleeping next to him, already waking from his movement. He didn’t remember making love to her or even laying down with her. She must have come in after the fact.

“Can you find those islands in the dark?”

“Maybe.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“I’d have to go back through the GPS history on my phone to get the coordinates,” she said. “Then I’d have to use the phone to try to get back there in the dark.”

“Work on it.”

The next hour was a fury of motion, but whether it was forward motion or backwards motion, only time would tell. They gassed up the Whaler, stocked it with everything they’d need, and worked on summoning up the courage to actually do what they were thinking of doing. All the while Teffinger twisted his mind trying to decide whether it would be a good thing or a bad one to bring Rail with him. Both scenarios had their pros and cons.

“I’m coming,” Rail said. “End of discussion.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’ve already seen.”

In the end, Teffinger relented.

Half an hour after dark, they both kissed Angel goodbye and set off into the black sea with the Whaler’s lights out. A pale moon beat through a blanket of high thin clouds, throwing some light to the earth, not much but enough to distinguish the shore from the water.

They made their way down the coast under relatively calm seas until they came to Janjak’s lagoon. There they motored quietly to far end of the island, anchored the boat and headed up the sand on foot.

Teffinger had a knife but no gun.

Rail had two weapons, a handgun and a rifle.

Several armed men became visible as Teffinger and Rail studied the grounds from the black recesses of the night. There was no sign of Janjak but the lights of the primary structure were on.

“I count seven,” Teffinger said.

“I got eight.”

“You ready?”

“No.”

Teffinger grunted.

“Stay behind me. The more I think around the rifle, leave it here; it’ll just slow us down. Don’t shoot anyone unless it’s absolutely in self-defense, and then don’t shoot to kill. Get them in the leg or something. I don’t want to take lives to save one, even if they deserve it. If we get separated, we’ll meet at the boat. If I get killed or taken, don’t hang around for me. Just get the hell out. Are we on the same page?”

“Yes.”

Teffinger exhaled.

“Okay, then. Game time.”

With a pounding chest, Teffinger snuck through the night, occasionally turning to make sure Rail was still behind him. He took his time, picking his shadows with all the precision of a surgeon, slowly making his way into the thick of it all and, finally, to the very thatched structure where Modeste had been held prisoner.

The door wasn’t locked.

She wasn’t there.

That wasn’t a surprise.

Teffinger expected it.

They no doubt moved her to a new location, assuming she was still alive. It would be futile to look for her. She could be a hundred different places, none of which were anywhere around here.

“Plan B,” he whispered to Rail.

“Yeah, I know.”

They snuck back out, circled around through the outlying blackness, and from the beach approached the main structure—Janjak’s quarters—crawling on their stomachs. The windows were lit from inside, throwing a yellow patina into the night, almost like cat eyes, but no exterior lights were on.

Two men sat at a table of some sorts on the left side of the structure, drinking from bottles. Their weapons leaned near their sides.

Their voices were animated—drunken.

Teffinger and Rail approached from the right, letting the corner mask them.

Then, they were there.

They were right there.

Teffinger worked his way to a window and brought an eye far enough over to look inside.

He saw no one.

They entered, moving quickly, searching for Janjak.

They found her upstairs, in a dark, dark room, sitting in a chair in the corner, staring right at them with the whites of her eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.

“Scream and you’re dead,” Teffinger said. “All we want is Modeste.”

“Me scream? No, don’t worry about that. Are you ready to have some fun?”

With lightning speed two men suddenly sprang from out of nowhere. Knuckles landed with the force of a rock to Teffinger’s face, exploding the inside of his skull into fireworks and knocking him to the floor.

A kick landed on his ribs, then another, and then another.

He tried to twist away.

It did no good.

The leather hardness of a boot smashed into the side of his head, snapping it so fast that his teeth bit deep into his tongue.

Blood filled his mouth.

He braced for the next blow.

Suddenly a shot rang out, an explosion of gunfire so incredibly thunderous that it felt as if the whole world had just imploded.

It came from Rail.

He pulled Teffinger to his feet and punched Janjak in the face so hard that she collapsed to the floor.

“Get her!” Rail said.

Teffinger flung the woman over his shoulder and then they ran down the stairs with the barrel of Rail’s weapon pressed against the side of Janjak’s skull.

Men appeared with rifles and crazy faces.

Rail shouted “Back off!”

46

Day Six

June 9

Monday Night

Teffinger dropped Rail off at the villa with a warning. “They might come for you. Get Angel to town, someplace safe.” Then, with Janjak now conscious but her hands tied behind her back, he pointed the bow of the Whaler into the dark endless sea. The islands were moonlit when he got to them, taking shape a good quarter mile before he came to them.

He beached the boat on the first island, put a handcuff on Janjak’s right ankle and padlocked the other end to a thirty-foot chain, which he wrapped around the base of the first palm tree he came to and secured with a second padlock. Then he cut the rope off her wrists.

There.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re a sexy man,” she said.

“This isn’t a game. Is Modeste alive?”

“For now.”

“Where is she?”

“Her body or her soul?”

Teffinger kneeled downed until his face was close to hers. “Here’s the way this is going to work. I’m going to hand you a cell phone and you’re going to call your men and tell them to release her. Once she’s someplace safe, I’ll take you back and then we’ll all go our separate ways. If you don’t make the call, I’ll find her myself and you can rot here while I do.”

The woman ran her fingers through Teffinger’s hair.

“You like my back, don’t you? You want to touch it again—”

Teffinger stood up, looked down at her for a second, and then headed back to the Whaler for food and water and blankets, trying to harden his heart with each passing step by reminding himself that a lot of good people were dead because of her. Station, for starters; and probably Poppy. Plus, she’d somehow gotten her fangs into Kovi-Ke and turned her into a killer. Not to mention that her men tried to kill him; and even though they didn’t succeed, they made him throw a bottle into one of their faces, a fact that he’d have to live with in relative secret for the rest of his life.

Those were just the things he knew about.

They were probably less than one percent, given the way the island was so terrified of her.

She deserved to die.

No one would miss her.

The world would be a better place.

Still, could he personally do it?

Could he actually let her rot to death?

The answer surprised him.

If it came down to either Modeste or Janjak dying, it wouldn’t be Modeste.

When he returned, Janjak was dancing in the sand with her top off and her arms up, as if not having a care in the world.

Teffinger took a seat out of reach and watched.

Her movements resonated in the deep recesses of his brain. He was wired for them. His eyes were always on the hunt for them. His loins were always ready for them. His tongue was always ready to taste them.

“Do you like me?”

“No.”

She laughed.

“Liar.”

To prove herself right, she unwrapped her skirt and threw it at him. Under it, she wore nothing. Her body gyrated under the moonlight and her hands played in the air above her head.

“How about now? Do you like me now?”

“This won’t work,” he said.

A minute passed.

“Take me,” she said. “Take me and after you do, I’ll make that call you want. You can have your precious little Modeste back. I’ll leave her alone.”

He knew a trick when he saw one.

“No thanks.”

“Do it now, right now, otherwise I’m going to close my eyes and kill her.”

He grunted.

“That’s not possible.”

“Mark the time,” she said.

Then she laid down on her back on the sand, got her body perfectly still, and closed her eyes.

A second passed, then another and another and another. Teffinger’s brain exploded with uncertainty. Could the woman really do it? Was there any chance she actually had powers?

He went over and kneeled at her side.

“Stop.”

She opened her eyes.

“Take me. Do it slowly,” she said. “Take your time.”

“If I do you’ll set her free?”

“Yes. There are no tricks.”

“I want you to stay away from Rail, too,” he said.

“He’s not part of the deal. Take me or don’t, your choice.”

She raised her arms above her head.

Against his will, almost as if being pulled by a force, Teffinger put a hand on the woman’s stomach. It was warm. It trembled under his touch.

“You love me,” she said.

“I love you.”

“Show me how much you love me.”

His hands went to her breasts, her tiny but oh so compelling breasts. He could feel his touch go straight through the woman’s body and into her brain.

“You love me,” she said.

“I love you.”

Those were words he hadn’t said in a long, long time. When they came out, he at first thought he was playing along, placating her, saying and doing whatever it took to free Modeste.

Then he realized that he meant them.

He meant them with every molecule in his body.

He loved her with everything he had and then ten times more.

She kissed him on the mouth.

“We’ll be together forever,” she said.

“Yes.”

“This is our beginning.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll never end.”

“No, never.”

His hands explored her body, her erotic little body, memorizing her curves and her reactions and her skin. He had never wanted a woman so badly in his life.

Kovi-Ke had been a mistake.

Evil Angel had been a mistake.

Every woman he’d ever met had been a mistake.

He realized that now, only too clearly.

He’d been born for her.

She’d been born for him.

“Unchain me,” she said.

He did.

Then he flipped her over and licked her back. Sand worked its way into his mouth and he didn’t care. He licked her, again and again, feeling the scars under the touch of his tongue, even the one he’d laid in. It tasted right. It tasted like there was nothing else left in the world, only this, only right here, only right now, only her and him, so perfect together, reinventing time and everything else in the universe.

47

Day Seven

June 10

Tuesday Morning

Teffinger woke Tuesday morning and immediately realized that the sun was high and that the break of dawn had long since passed. He didn’t remember a single dream or shifting even one time during the night. It was as if he’d been dead.

He was naked.

His cloths were to the side.

His body ached from the hardness of the sand.

His brain flashed with images; images of Janjak dancing in the moonlight, of him licking the woman’s back and then flipping her over and taking her with every fiber of his being.

Janjak wasn’t next to him.

He bolted to his feet.

“Janjak!”

No one answered.

She wasn’t there.

His eyes darted to the Whaler to find it gone. He ran to the water’s edge and looked in all directions. The woman was nowhere in sight, not up or down, not across on one of the other islands, not anywhere.

She was as gone as the night.

He dropped down right where he was, in a foot of water, and felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. The woman had tricked him. He didn’t care about that. What he did care about is that she’d abandoned him.

His lover had left without saying goodbye.

There was nothing worse in the world.

Nothing.

He put his clothes on.

The cell phone wasn’t in his pocket; the ten coins too, were missing.

The food and water were still left.

He could live for a week.

That was something.

Rail and Angel knew he was here.

They’d come for him sooner or later.

There was no need to panic.

Well, that wasn’t a hundred percent true. It was more accurate to say that there was no need to panic assuming that Rail and Angel were still alive.

Frankly, at this point, he wasn’t sure he cared.

Janjak had left him.

He’d finally met the woman he was destined to be with and she threw him away.

He was nothing more than an old rag.

He wandered up and down the beach, pacing for over an hour, kicking up the water and cursing himself for not controlling his own fate. He didn’t know if it was because of the sun or the motion or just the passage of time, but his head slowly began to clear. Step by step he fell out of love with Janjak and increasingly recognized her for what she was.

How did she manipulate him so thoroughly last night?

Sure, she was seductive and the moonlight was just right, but that shouldn’t have been enough to make him so completely lose his senses.

Suddenly an image flashed, an image of Janjak and him digging in the sand in the middle of the night, intent on recovering something buried under the ground.

The coins?

Did he tell her about the coins?

No, he couldn’t have.

Why would he?

Yet, the image was intense.

He surveyed the third island, two hundred yards away, with an eye to whether he could swim that given his battered state.

It didn’t matter.

He had to know.

He stripped his clothes off, waded out until he was waist deep and then went into a slow, overhand stroke, not setting any records but eventually coming out the other side alive.

When he got to where the coins were buried, there was nothing but an empty hole.

He slumped down with his back against a palm.

Why did he tell Janjak about it?

Did he tell her about Evil Angel having the other half?