Moon over Maalaea Bay

by H. L. Wegley

  From Lee’s vantage point at Waipuilani Park, he could see that all the vessels were either moving through the bay’s shallow blue waters looking for whales or were headed from Maalaea to another destination. Less than twenty minutes after leaving the store at Maalaea, Lee had eliminated Maalaea Bay from consideration.

  He left the beach and strode to his car. He pulled out Katie’s map and scanned the Wailea area. There was a parking lot with beach access on the southern edge of the Grand Wailea Resort.

  He left the park and drove south towards Wailea.

  In about ten minutes, he passed the shops at Wailea and then the Grand Wailea Resort. The road turned to the right and climbed a hill. Near the top Lee saw the beach access sign. He turned in and grabbed a parking spot being vacated by an older couple.

  After maneuvering into the undersized space, he glanced at his watch. An hour had passed since he told Katie and Granddad they needed to find the yacht. He had only an hour left if they were going to meet the timetable he had set.

  Lee grabbed his binoculars and trotted down the path through the park. He climbed over a grassy knoll and stepped onto a paved beach trail about one hundred yards south of the big resort. To his left, about two hundred yards away, volcanic rock jutted out into the water. Wailea Point. He jogged towards it, passing several slow walkers on the trail.

  After reaching the point, Lee stepped off the trail onto an undeveloped area evidently used by the more adventuresome tourists to walk down to the lava outcropping at the water’s edge. With his naked eye, he scanned the water from south to north. From this vantage point he could easily see from Molikini up to Kihei, his remaining area of responsibility.

  Lee raised the binoculars and began a systematic search for anything resembling an anchored yacht.

  One vessel large enough to qualify as a yacht was anchored two hundred yards south of Wailea Point, on the northern edge of a popular snorkeling destination called Turtle Town. Several smaller catamarans were anchored there, surrounded by the bobbing heads of snorkelers. It was a good place for a boat to anchor and yet remain relatively inconspicuous among the numerous other boats that stopped for periods of time for snorkeling.

  Lee explored the yacht with his binoculars for a few minutes. A man sat at a table on the rear deck. A tall slender man seemed to be at his beck and call. Another man occasionally appeared on deck. He was shorter and stockier. There were three cabins on the visible side of the yacht. Probably three more on the other side.

  Did one of them hold Jennifer? He prayed his observations would provide enough clues to answer that question.

  On a small point a quarter mile to the south, two men stood looking seaward. They also seemed to be watching the yacht with binoculars. But perhaps they were only watching the snorkelers or turtles.

  Lee moved behind a six-foot-high bush lining a portion of the trail and maneuvered into position to watch the two men without being seen by them. When he raised his binoculars for a closer look at them, they were gone.

  Lee’s cell phone rang.

  “Lee, it’s Katie. We finished looking around Lahaina and didn’t find anything.”

  “Where are you now, Katie?”

  “We’re a few miles south of Lahaina, headed your direction. Granddad’s driving and he’s really got a lead foot. He says to tell you we’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Any calls from Peterson or the Maui police?”

  “No, nothing.” Should he mention the yacht? It was too soon to be certain, but they all needed some encouraging news. “But I may have found the yacht.”

  “Granddad, Lee thinks he found it.” Katie’s voice rose in pitch and volume.

  “Granddad wants to know where the yacht is anchored.”

  “Tell him it’s a little south of Wailea Point, at the edge of Turtle Town.”

  Lee waited while Granddad talked with Katie.

  “Granddad wants you to meet us at the Kihei boat ramp. He thinks we need to get close to the yacht to check it out and, if we have to, intervene to prevent them from selling Jennifer.”

  “Getting in close is a good idea. We can’t call Peterson with a false alarm. We have to know we’ve got the right boat when we call, or a lot of bad things could happen. The intervention part…we’ll play that by ear.” If that scenario started to unfold, he would have Katie removed immediately.

  “I turned on the speakerphone,” Katie said. “He heard you and agrees. His cousin rents boats at the Kihei ramp and owes Granddad…big time. So he’ll have one ready for us by the time we get there.”

  “Great. I know where the boat ramp is. I’ll be there when you two arrive. Tell Granddad he needs to use his lead foot.”

  “The speedometer says seventy-five, Lee. You should see this road, twisting and winding above the ocean. I don’t think—”

  “He’s got the idea, Katie. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Lee stood beside the boat ramp parking area tapping out a snappy rhythm with his foot when Granddad’s rented car turned in. He glanced at his watch. Less than thirty minutes left on Lee’s self-imposed two-hour deadline.

  They needed a fast, seaworthy boat to get five miles down the coast in ten minutes. But he’d looked at the sign at the marina, and those babies rented for 140 dollars per hour. Lee glanced out across the water as a moderate breeze ruffled his hair. It was early afternoon, and the trades were picking up. The choppy water would slow them down even more.

  He could call Peterson in a few minutes and tell him about the yacht, even if they hadn’t verified that it was the trafficker’s vessel, but if that drew Peterson away from another important lead, Lee might regret his decision for the rest of his life. No. They needed to do this part of the investigation on their own.

  Grandfather parked. He motioned for Lee to follow, then he and Katie ran towards the boats in the marina. By the time Lee caught up with them, a short Asian man was handing keys to Granddad. The man pointed towards a small catamaran with two large outboard engines on the back. The boat looked tailor-made for their purposes.

  Five minutes later, Granddad had maneuvered the boat out of the marina, and they were skimming the choppy aqua-blue water at better than forty miles per hour.

  They still had four or five miles to go. “Can this thing go any faster?”

  Granddad responded with his lead foot.

  The boat surged ahead, throwing Lee into the back of the boat. Spray flew all around them cooling the heat from the sun while creating small rainbows that appeared and disappeared at the whims of the mist and the angle of the sun.

  At this speed, they would be nearing Turtle Town in less than five minutes. Lee glanced at Katie, unbuttoning her blouse. It flew into the back of the boat and she unzipped her shorts. “Katie, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Don’t worry. This is my swimsuit underneath. Oh yes…when Granddad talked to him on the phone, his cousin said the snorkeling gear is in the bin under your seat.”

  So Granddad had thought this through already. They could pretend to be snorkeling Turtle Town and get close to the yacht without tipping their hand. He looked at Granddad, smiled, and gave him thumbs up.

  Granddad responded with a heavier lead foot.

  The choppiness of the water had decreased over the past mile. He scanned the sea around them then looked up at the mountain. They were entering the lee of Haleakala, an area where today the trade winds were impeded by the big mountain. Good. They’d be able to see more while they were in the water than if the swells were larger.

  “Where’s your swimsuit, Lee?”

  He glanced up at Katie and his breath caught in his throat. Standing there in her two-piece swimsuit, long, blonde hair flying in the breeze, she was a stunning beauty. She would bring a continuous stream of guys to their house. His smart, courageous future daughter was as beautiful as her future mother. Jennifer and he would have their hands full—

  Jennifer.

  Everything was predicated on saving her. Otherwise, he could l
ose Katie, too.

  Granddad slowed as they approached an area of boats and swimmers.

  Lee put his wallet in a small compartment by the wheel, then pulled off his shirt, shoes, and socks. He grabbed two pairs of fins and a couple of masks with snorkels from the bin. “Katie, how strong of a swimmer are you?”

  She took the equipment and smiled. “Very. But I’ve never used one of these things.” She held up the snorkel.

  He positioned the mask and snorkel on her head, and gave her a couple of pointers. When he glanced up, Granddad cut the engine back to an idle.

  “Is that the yacht?” Granddad nodded his head in the direction of a large, blue vessel, as Lee pulled his cell phone from his shorts pocket.

  “That’s it. Here’s my cell, Granddad. If any other boat approaches the yacht while Katie and I are in the water, hit number five on my speed dial, like this. Peterson will answer. Just tell him—”

  “I know what to tell him, Lee.” Granddad slid the cell phone in beside Lee’s wallet. “Now you and Katie go pretend to chase turtles. And be careful. Don’t get too close. We can’t make them feel threatened or they might threaten us.”

  “Did you hear Granddad, Katie?”

  “I heard. I’ll pretend to be looking for turtles, and as I roll around in the water, I can catch glimpses of the yacht to—”

  “To identify the people on board. Get good descriptions of them. If Peterson has suspicions about the ringleader, our description could confirm them, bringing the Coast Guard, the MPD, and the FBI down on these guys in a matter of minutes.”

  “Granddad, if we give you the signal”—Lee raised his closed fist and shook it—”you call Peterson immediately and declare an emergency, got it?”

  Grandfather nodded.

  “OK. Into the water, Katie.”

  They both jumped over the side and soon were bobbing in the water.

  Katie pulled the snorkel from her mouth.” It’s warm, Lee. Like bathwater.”

  “That’s why people pay thousands of dollars to come here. Now, look around for turtles and…other things, but don’t get too far away from me.”

  Katie’s snorkel went back into her mouth, and she headed to the seaward side of the big yacht’s bow.

  Lee followed her.

  In a few seconds, a large turtle surfaced directly in front of Katie. Her head came up for an above-the-water look, and then went back down. She swam hard to catch the fascinating sea creature.

  Movement across the water drew Lee’s gaze. A big catamaran was heading straight for the yacht. The man standing on the bow was of Middle Eastern descent, and his gaze was locked on the blue yacht. The catamaran slowed and inched towards the yacht. Was this the trafficker’s customer?

  23

  Franklin James stood on the bow of his yacht watching the white catamaran approach. This transfer would come off as planned, or James would immediately distance himself from the whole mess. A one-hundred-pound weight on her ankle restraint and a quick drop into one thousand feet of water would be ample distance.

  When the prince’s catamaran moved within fifty yards of his yacht, James began barking orders. “Snake, get the assault rifle. Keep the gun out of sight of anyone who may be watching.”

  Mack’s stocky form approached James from behind Snake. “Mack, you get the merchandise ready. On my signal, she goes out the door, over the side, and down onto the deck of the other boat. Understood?”

  “Understood, boss.”

  “Until the transfer, wait outside the cabin door. Watch for any signs of trouble. I’ll give you the signal to get her after the catamaran draws near. Then you will complete the transfer as quickly as possible.”

  “Got it.” Mack walked down the port side of the yacht and resumed his guard post by the cabin door.

  Snake appeared in a few seconds standing forward, slightly to the port side, with the weapon clamped tightly to his leg.

  James smiled. From one hundred yards away, the gun would not be visible to anyone.

  Snake gestured towards something on the starboard side.

  When James glanced that direction, he saw a snorkeler too close for his comfort. Since all the action would be on the port side, if they hurried, they could still pull this off.

  He waited a few more seconds. The prince’s boat was only twenty-five yards away and moving slowly towards the yacht. When James gave his signal, Mack turned and reached for the cabin door.

  ****

  Jennifer’s fierce blow cracked the ashtray in half. Half she held, the other half bounced across the floor and slid under the edge of the bed.

  She glanced up at the guard’s silhouette. It was gone. There were voices coming from somewhere outside. A deep rumble came from something near. Was another boat approaching? The sound sent her heart pounding and adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream.

  She sat down on the floor outside the bathroom door, wedged the broken half of the ashtray between her feet, and began sawing on her wrist restraints.

  The sharp edge of the ashtray cut through the wrist restraints far enough for her to break them. It’d taken less than a minute of sawing. She quickly grabbed the shard of ashtray in her hands and sawed furiously on the ankle restraints.

  Footsteps sounded outside the door. The guard’s silhouette moved on the sunlit curtain. The door handle turned.

  Jennifer made one more violent slice with the ashtray and her ankles broke free.

  The door swung open. Mack stepped into the room from the bright sunlight outside.

  Realizing it would take a moment for his eyes to adjust, Jennifer jumped up, the ashtray in hand, and leaped towards him.

  Mack tried to back away from the body hurtling at him.

  Jennifer’s vicious kick powered by her emotions, adrenaline, and her consuming desire to reach Lee’s arms again, smashed into Mack’s face. The kick drove his head backward, where it cracked hard on the wall.

  She delivered her second kick to a vulnerable spot below Mack’s belt. He grunted and slumped forward.

  Jennifer drove the ashtray shard deep into the side of Mack’s neck. His loud howl would surely bring help.

  When blood spurted from the wound on Mack’s neck, he frantically ripped at the bedding, seeking something to pack over his wound. A single glance at Mack told her his role in the fight was over.

  She leapt out the door towards the railing. There was movement to her left. And…what was this? A boat had pulled alongside the yacht and the space between the two vessels had nearly closed.

  Jennifer dove over the railing, praying she wouldn’t be crushed between the two vessels.

  As she flew over the rail, she saw Snake in her peripheral vision. He was raising an assault rifle.

  The staccato burping of an automatic weapon sounded when Jennifer’s back bounced off the approaching catamaran. After the hard bump, she slid into the water.

  The warm saltwater amplified the sting of the abrasion on her back. She pulled hard for the bottom and tried to ignore the pain. Bubbly lines traced the path of bullets in the water beside her. She needed to go deeper.

  Had she taken a deep enough breath? It didn’t matter. The impact on her back had knocked most of it out of her.

  With her breath mostly gone, she couldn’t swim far under water. How could she avoid the bullets? By swimming under the catamaran and coming up on the far side? Could she make it even that short distance?

  Her lungs already burned with oxygen deprivation. The adrenaline only magnified her oxygen craving.

  Kicking hard, she saw light at the far side of the catamaran’s hull.

  Catamaran. What was she thinking? Jennifer pulled for the surface between the two sides of the catamaran. She drew a deep breath when her head broke water at about midship. She looked around her. Light blinded her from the front of the vessel. If someone leaned over the bow, they could peer between the two hulls. They would spot her. She prayed that wouldn’t happen for a few more seconds.

  Jennifer took
four deep breaths and pushed her body under. She continued downward until she was about ten feet under, probably deep enough to be safe from the assault rifle’s bullets. Using the orientation of the catamaran to determine her direction, she estimated the direction of the large resort hotel and swam under water towards it.

  The next time she came up for air, the gunman may have moved to the catamaran where he could fire at her. She would stay down until she started to black out. Jennifer purposely lost herself in prayer to counter the message her lungs were screaming and to fight the urge to swim to the surface.

  Lord, help me now…to keep going…to reach the shore…to reach Lee.

  She repeated the prayer until her vision became fuzzy, until the oxygen-starved muscles in her legs refused to kick, until her body became still in the water.

  24

  James’s door of opportunity had shut. Almost single-handedly, a 110-pound woman with an IQ double her weight had slammed the door shut and made him out to be a fool.

  Goals change. James’s goal was now to prevent a prison door from slamming shut with him inside. He snagged Snake’s binoculars with one hand and ran to the bow of the yacht. As the catamaran and his yacht moved apart, his yacht had cut off the snorkeler from his boat.

  The snorkeler pushed his mask up onto his forehead and appeared to be surveying the situation.

  James trained the binoculars on the snorkeler. Reality struck him like a bolt of lightning.

  The blonde-haired princess. But how?

  Realization of his situation sent another lightning bolt through James’s rigid body. Too many people knew his location. With the island-wide law-enforcement presence, escaping with his life became his number one priority.

  “Snake.”

  The slender man with the assault rifle stopped scanning the water for Jennifer Akihara-Brandt and turned towards him. “What, Mr. James?”

  “Forget her. Get in the water and bring her on board.” He pointed to the girl a few feet from the yacht’s bow.

  Snake shook his head and frowned. “You sure about this?”