by Linda Gerber
He lowered his brows. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one.”
“I have a friend back home I’ve kept in touch with. Every time she e-mails me about going to the latest movie or getting her driver’s license or being asked to the prom, I have serious bouts of homesickness, even though I never got to do any of those things there.”
He nodded. “Well, at least you can keep in touch.”
“What about you? You’ve moved, too?”
“Once or twice.”
“And do you still stay in contact with your old friends?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Through Facebook, mostly. I don’t get much chance to e-mail.”
“Oh! Cami has an account too. She keeps telling me I should—”
“Aphra, may I see you for a moment?”
I jumped and twisted around. Dad! I had completely forgotten I was supposed to be working. His carefully bland expression showed he wasn’t happy about it, either. He wasn’t the kind to yell or scold or anything like that, but when he was disappointed in me or mad at me, I knew it. He became ultra-polite and aloof. Oh, and sometimes he docked my pay—something he couldn’t get away with for the other employees. To me, losing money was worse than being grounded. He may not have been aware of it, but the cash I was saving was one day going to help me find my mom. I wanted to ask her why she left.
I stood and walked over to him with as much dignity as a kid caught playing around instead of working can muster. “Yes?”
He lowered his voice. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Please grab your things. You’re needed in the office.”
I turned and gave Adam an apologetic frown.
He nodded in understanding. “I should get going anyway. I’ll see you around?”
I sure hoped so.
Dad was silent most of our walk back to the Plantation House, but as we came to the courtyard, he finally spoke. His voice was tight. “What were you doing with that boy?”
“Nothing. We were just talking.”
“Well, don’t. I want you to keep away from those people, understand?”
Those people? What was he talking about? “You mean his family? Why? Who are they?”
He regarded me for a second and then looked away again. “They’re guests who have asked for their privacy, and I would like you to respect their wishes. Now if you would hurry and get dressed, Miss Shimizu is waiting for you in the lobby.”
Right. I had offered to show her around. “Oh. Yes, of course.” I hurried up to my room and changed, not even bothering to rinse the chlorine out of my hair before I pulled it back into a ponytail.
Dad’s warning kept turning over in my head. I want you to keep away from those people. Why? What was he not telling me? The frustration built again. I ground my teeth. Why couldn’t he just talk to me?
When I reached the lobby, Dad was chatting with Hisako near the lanai doors. He looked up at me. “Ah, there you are.” His voice was all sunshine and roses, as if he hadn’t been angry just a few short minutes before.
I forced a smile and bowed. “Hisako-san. So nice to see you again.”
She bowed in return. “I hope this is a good time?”
“Of course.” Actually, considering Dad’s moodiness, the timing couldn’t be better. I really wasn’t sure where to take Hisako on this little nature hike of ours, but I recognized an opportunity to escape when I saw one. I figured we could start at the far side of the property and work our way back.
We took the back path, and Hisako admired the landscaping as we walked. “It is so lovely here! I suppose you meet a lot of fascinating people in such a place?”
I hated to disappoint her, but our guests really weren’t as fascinating as they thought themselves to be. “I suppose . . .”
“It is such a cozy setting. Very peaceful, and so quiet.”
“Well, it’s actually quieter than usual now. When we’re full, it can get really busy.”
“Oh? So you do not have many guests at the moment? How many are here?”
“Only a handful.”
Hisako nodded politely, and I snuck a glance at her. Was she bored? We hadn’t come on the walk to talk about the property; we were supposed to be talking about plants, and I was failing miserably. I had to find something worth showing her, or she might decide the walk wasn’t worth her trouble. Then I’d be stuck inside. With Dad.
I directed her attention to the orange-red flowers of a koki’o hibiscus. “This is one of my favorite plants. The petals remind me of flamenco dancers fanning their skirts.”
“Very beautiful.” She stopped to make a quick sketch in the small blue book she carried.
We continued our walk, with me pointing out some of our finer local flora and her murmuring appreciation. She was especially taken with one of the plants—a Star of Bethlehem with its cluster of small white flowers.
“Ah, sugoi!” She bent to examine it. “Madam Fata plant. We have these in Japan. They are very poisonous.” Her voice was almost reverent. Botanists can be very weird about their plants.
“Be careful handling it,” I warned. “The sap burns if it gets on your skin.”
She pressed her lips together as if suppressing a smile. “Thank you, Aphra-chan. I will remember that.”
My ears burned, and I suddenly felt like an awkward little girl. She was the botanist, and here I was lecturing her about how to handle a plant. How lame can you get? I tried to cover my humiliation by forcing more conversation. “So . . . what got you interested in botany?”
She tilted her head to one side as if this question required serious thought. “I am interested to know what plants can do. They hold much power—to soothe, to heal, even to kill.”
“Oh, yeah. We did a unit on the medicinal uses of plants in my biology class. Of course, I forgot most of it as soon as I took the final.”
She laughed. “What do you remember?”
I told her how the noni and kava plants can help you sleep. In turn, she shared that the nuts of the kukui could be used as a laxative—as if I really wanted to know that—and that salvia plants have psychoactive effects.
By this time, we had reached the end of the paths and had come out onto the sand of the beach. Hisako daintily kicked off her shoes. “Shall we walk near the water?”
Sure, why not? The longer I stayed with Hisako, the less time I had to spend behind the desk. We strolled barefoot along the firm sand where waves lapped the shore, detouring inland when we came across one of the rock piers. Just being that close to the ocean soothed my agitation.
Until Hisako stopped dead in her tracks. She pointed to the shoreline ahead. “What is that?”
I shielded my eyes and squinted. Something large had washed up on shore. A log maybe.
I gasped.
No, it was a person.
Panic washed over me. I stood paralyzed for a second before my lifeguard training kicked in. I sprinted toward the body. As I drew closer, I could tell who it was: Bianca. Her hair lay tangled about her head like seaweed, matted with sand. Her pale skin was mottled, and her lips were an odd color of blue.
My heart sank right down to my stomach. The ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet. I could hardly breathe. I dropped to my knees beside her. The ties of her halter-top bikini were tangled tight about her neck. My hands trembled as I tried to loosen them.
But as soon as I touched her, I knew. She was dead.
CHAPTER 4
Over and over again, Bianca’s voice echoed in my head, “You’ve inspired me. I think I’ll go to the beach.” I had challenged her. If it hadn’t been for me, she would be alive and well and sunning herself at the pool.
I killed her.
I blinked hard to keep away the tears and fought the bile rising in my throat. It was my fault. My fault. My fault.
I shook my head until my whole body swayed with grief. She couldn’t be dead. Not her. Not someone so . . . alive. No! It wasn’t right! There had to be something I could do.
I ti
lted her head back and bent to blow air into her lifeless mouth. Once, twice. Her cold lips had a waxy feel to them. I shook off another rise of nausea and changed position for chest compressions.
“Aphra-chan. Stop. It is too late.” Hisako’s voice was gentle, but it cut into me like the lava rock.
I was not going to accept that. I pumped furiously on Bianca’s chest, counting compressions. She did not respond.
“Aphra-chan.” Hisako touched my shoulder. “It is over.”
“No!” The word was more a plea than a denial.
The pressure of Hisako’s fingers increased. Gently, but firmly, she pulled me back. Finally, my hands stilled. I realized my face was wet.
“You knew her?” Hisako asked softly.
“Yes. She is . . . was a guest at the resort.”
“Then we must report it at once.”
I straightened. “Yes. Of course.” Hisako was right. I was forgetting my responsibility. There was comfort in having something practical to do. I wiped my eyes. “We should get my dad.”
“I will go.” Hisako bowed. “You stay with the girl.”
I drew in a sharp breath. Stay with her? By myself? But of course Hisako was right. We couldn’t both go; the surf was already sucking at Bianca’s legs. If we left her on the beach unattended, the tide could carry her away. I couldn’t let her lie there with a stranger standing beside her, either. I nodded, and Hisako jogged off across the sand.
The whole thing had a bad dream feel about it. I kept hoping I’d wake up and everything would be back the way it was.
But I couldn’t pull my eyes from Bianca. She looked so peaceful, like she was just sleeping in the sand. I reached down to brush away a strand of seaweed that hung across her face, and a crab scuttled out from under her matted hair. I screamed and yanked my hand back.
After that, I kept my distance. I was afraid of what else I might find if I got too close. I hugged my knees and stared out at the sea, where a pair of terns spiraled over the whitecaps. Usually their screeches didn’t bother me, but that afternoon the shrieking calls sounded eerie and ominous. I shuddered and closed my eyes, as if that could shut out their cries.
At long last I heard voices at the far end of the beach. I pushed to my feet, anxious to share my vigil with the living. That’s when I saw him. Adam’s dad was standing near the trees, watching me. His eyes flicked past me to the body in the sand and then toward the approaching group. With a half-perceptible nod, he turned and headed back toward villa four.
I watched him disappear into the brush, a strange, cold feeling settling in my stomach. And then my dad was beside me, hugging me, rubbing my arms, studying my face.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, even though I still felt pretty shaken. The rest of the group ran to join us. Nothing says rush, I suppose, like one dead guest and a handful of live ones you want to keep ignorant of the fact. Dad hadn’t wasted any time in gathering his containment team: Darlene, Frank, and the head of security, Junior. No, really. That’s his name. Ironically, this guy is about six-four and must weigh three hundred pounds—all of it muscle.
Hisako had stopped just short of where we all stood. Dad gave her a slight bow and mouthed, “Thank you.” She inclined her head, turned, and headed back down the beach.
Once she was gone, Junior crouched beside me, balancing his enormous weight on the balls of his feet. “Yup. She wen mahke a’right.” “Mahke” was his way of saying dead. Yeah, nothing gets by Junior.
I glanced up. “Where’s Mick?”
“Sleeping?” Darlene looked to Junior for confirmation, and then explained. “He was drinking in the lounge all morning, soused as Sinatra. Junior here had to take him back to his villa to sleep it off.” I noticed that Darlene had dropped all traces of the island from her accent, something she did whenever she was truly upset. She’d been the one serving him those drinks. I wondered if she was feeling guilty.
Dad’s frown deepened. “So that’s why she was swimming alone.”
And why she had been waiting by the pool . . . before I sent her to the beach to die. I started to cry again. The guilt was mine.
Darlene misunderstood the emotion and draped an arm around me. “We’ve never had a guest drown before, have we?” She turned to Junior and said in a low voice, “How could this have happened? The water wasn’t even that rough this afternoon.”
Frank bent over Bianca’s body. “Take a look at this.” He pointed to where the ties of her halter-top bikini were wrapped around her neck. “Mebbe she got tumbled by a wave. Wouldn’t have taken a big one if she wasn’t a strong swimmer. Those strings could’a got caught on something and choked her.”
Darlene and Junior nodded gravely.
I shook my head. Something about that scenario didn’t feel right. Junior bent close to examine the bruises on Bianca’s neck.
I froze, thinking back to the night before when I’d been caught by that wave. The force of the water had pretty much ripped my top off. What it didn’t do was wrap the ties around my neck and choke me to death.
And the wave had dumped Adam and me on the sand. Hard sand, not the loose, drier stuff like where Bianca was lying. Her body was too far aground to have been left there by a wave. It was almost as if someone had put her there.
“I don’t think she drowned,” I said weakly.
Frank looked up. “Right, I think mebee she choked.” Dad cleared his throat. “We’ll leave the thinking up to the coroner.”
“I hear ya, brah.” Junior stood and brushed the sand from his hands. “I get her into the city, fast kine, yeah?”
“Wait!” I pulled away from Darlene. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. They couldn’t move Bianca. Not yet. “Shouldn’t we leave her where she is until the police—”
Dad cut me off. “Getting the police here could take all afternoon. I am not leaving this girl to bake in the sun. She goes to the coroner.”
“But . . .”
Junior looked to Frank. “How soon you can fly?”
“I was just flushing the lines when I got the squawk. Could be a couple hours.”
“Where we gonna put her until then?”
Frank took off his Navy cap and ran a hand through his graying hair. “The walk-in?”
Darlene’s eyes got big, and she took a step back. He was talking about her walk-in refrigerator in the lounge kitchen. “No way. If any of my staff sees her, they’ll flip out. They’d never walk in there again.”
Dad waved them quiet. “Lay her in my office. We’ll seal it off and crank up the AC. She’ll be fine until you can get off the ground.” He turned to Darlene. “We’ll need a diversion. Send out complimentary tapas and drinks to the villas, and let’s be sure everyone is accounted for.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I suppose I had better go get Mick and sober him up. He’ll want to be with her.”
It didn’t seem fitting to send Bianca off to the city in just her bikini, so while Frank and Junior waited for their diversion, I ran to get a bedsheet. I wrapped her body in the linen as neatly as I could before the guys carried her off on a stretcher.
I followed them to the Plantation House and watched, numb, as they laid her next to the couch in Dad’s office and sealed the place up.
Frank mumbled an apology to no one in particular and said he had to get his helicopter ready to fly. Junior plopped onto one of the couches and fanned himself, his round face red and shiny with sweat. “You know, for a little girl, she sure was heavy.”
Frank lowered his thick brows and shook his head at that comment, which just made Junior’s face turn even redder. He spread his hands and demanded, “What?”
Frank jerked his head in my direction.
Junior rolled his eyes and pantomimed sweeping Frank out the door. Frank left, but Junior hung around the lobby until Darlene stopped by to see how I was doing. The two of them had a low-voiced conversation in the corner of the lobby—as if I couldn’t hear every word they were saying. It seem
s they were worried I’d be freaked out or something if I were left alone with a dead body in the next room. I admit I was a little shaky, but that’s not the same thing as freaked, and not from what they thought, either.
They fussed and fretted over what to do with me until their little powwow was interrupted by a loud squawk from the two-way at Junior’s waist.
It was Dad. Mick was being, shall we say, a bit hostile about the sobering-up efforts. Dad requested a little muscle as backup.
Darlene sat with me after Junior left, even though I knew she must have had a million things to do.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I just wish I knew what happened.”
She gave me a sad look. “Honey, she drowned. Her top . . .” She raised a hand to her throat.
“Yeah, I know. The strings. But . . . isn’t that kind of strange?” I shuddered, thinking back on how cold Bianca’s skin had felt when I had tried to loosen those strings—how they were wrapped around her neck, not tangled, as Frank hypothesized. She may have been caught, but not by a wave. The ties, her position on the shore . . . it didn’t add up.
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe someone . . .”
Darlene pulled back. “Aphra, honey, I know you’re upset—”
“It has nothing to do with being upset! There’s something off about this whole thing. Her top—”
“Aphra. Don’t.”
“But it doesn’t make—”
Darlene cut me off. “The dead deserve some respect, honey. Let this one go.”
I chewed on my thumbnail and looked at Dad’s closed office door. Respect. I’m sure “the dead” would have preferred to be alive. I wasn’t going to let it go. It was my fault Bianca was gone. If someone had killed her, I had to find out who it was.
Darlene parked herself in the lobby to work on her meal lists, but I managed to ignore her. I was busy making lists of my own.
The first thing I had to figure out was who would want to hurt Bianca? Maybe Mick; they were always fighting, and he might have believed that, the next time, she really would leave him. And Bianca did say she’d been waiting for him. He could have met her at the beach. But both Darlene and Junior had placed Mick at the lounge at the time Bianca died. In fact, I had seen him there myself when Darlene was bandaging my arm.
