“M…Marie Brisbee…” Carol squeaked. “Please… don’t hurt her... she’ll give you what you want without a fight.”
“Good,” Marco replied and adjusted his grip. “I hate it when they fight back.”
Once again, he pressed down on her windpipe until the burning desperation for oxygen had Carol struggling against him with the last reserves of her strength. Everything began to close in and a creeping blackness invaded her sight. Marco’s face had transformed into a visage of rage, and it was the last thing she ever saw.
Chapter Three
There wasn’t much to the airport in São Tomè. Most of it was just plain, black, asphalt runway or shortly-trimmed grass fields that stretched on for hundreds of yards in each direction. The four-story high control tower was situated a short walk from a row of rusty metal hangars, and the building which passed as the actual receiving area for passengers wasn’t built to hold more than a few dozen travelers at a time. The only other aircraft parked nearby were a slew of small propeller planes, which were used for sightseeing tours, and two commercial jets powerful enough to cross the ocean and the Gulf of Guinea between the island and mainland Africa.
Marie wasn’t all that surprised to find only a handful of other passenger debarking with her once the plane landed. São Tomè wasn’t exactly bristling with tourists or expats like many other more popular destinations, but the excellent scuba diving and diverse wildlife of the region were bound to draw in at least a few hundred people every week. Even so, such a low turnout seemed to indicate that things weren’t going so well for the island’s tourism industry.
The short, balding man in front of Marie on the ramp out of the plane didn’t look like any scuba diver or a biologist she’d ever met. He walked with a sort of waddle, shifting the weight of his big belly around uncomfortably and chewed on a half-smoked cigar like he was itching to light up after such a long plane ride. The shirt he was wearing was more than just loud; it was a gaudy thing with neon bright reds and greens, fashioned with a long trail of buttons that had been fastened only part-ways up his chest. He had on wrinkled white pants with many pockets and a pair of gold Ray-bans so dark that Marie wondered if he could see out of them at all.
Something about the man seemed very off, especially the way he kept looking over his shoulder at her as they strolled across the tarmac towards the main building. Marie pulled on the straps of the bag holding the map while averting her gaze from the man and trying to ignore his strangeness.
Marie was mildly surprised when the man opened the door ahead of them and held it for her. She certainly hadn’t pegged him for the gentlemanly type.
“How you doin’ sweetheart?” the man asked in an unexpectedly thick Bronx accent.
“Good, thank you,” Marie answered, trying to repair the suspicious expression on her face by smiling awkwardly and raising both eyebrows. The man’s Northern accent seemed so out of place there and she could only imagine what had brought him to the country.
“You must be a researcher. Am I right?” he said, and looked her up and down, checking out her legs and the sloping curves of her breasts through her shirt. “That’s about the only thing to bring a woman like you all alone to this god-forsaken place during the ass-end of the dry season.”
“Uhm,” Marie started, and looked down at what she was wearing. She had tried to keep things simple; a pair of well-used khaki shorts and dusty hiking boots, a plain gray t-shirt with the letters N.C.E.U.O.C.S across the front pocket in black along with the logo for the North Carolina Eastern University Oceanographic Conservation Society positioned just below it. That must have been what tipped him off.
“Yeah, sort of. I do archaeology work, but research is part of it.”
Lewis’ eyes widened and he licked his lips. “Great. Sounds real…excitin’.”
“How about you, sir?” Marie said, trying to remember if the man had said his name. Even if he was kind of repulsive, she didn’t want to be rude. She couldn’t figure out if the man was being sarcastic or trying to just appear interested in her field, anyway.
“Lewis Sneed,” the man said, stretching out the ee’s on his last name and making it sound more reprehensible a word than it probably was. “I’m here on some lame business stuff. You going to be staying on the island long?”
“I don’t know,” Marie replied, seeing his question as small talk more than an invasion of her privacy. Still, the man was giving her some pretty negative vibes. She pushed it away and thought, “Maybe I just need to get out more. Staying cooped up in the lab is making me paranoid.”
Across the airport they walked, without much else shared between them, until they reached the luggage belt and grabbed their suitcases. The man at the arrivals counter smiled and stuck out his hand.
“Please, ticket, passport,” the man said in rough, butchered English.
Marie waited for Lewis to finish and presented her documents to the man at the counter. He took them and scrutinized both carefully, running one finger back and forth several times across each line of text to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Satisfied that everything was in order, the man handed her back her papers and said, in a very rehearsed manner, “Welcome, São Tomè, Miss Brisbee. Enjoy your staying.”
Lewis’ ears perked up upon hearing her name. “Could I really be this lucky?” he wondered.
He hung out by the door and asked Marie as she approached, “So, where you headed? Want to catch a taxi with me? We might have to share one anyway, I think.”
“Why’s that?” Marie asked, genuinely curious.
“Because, darlin’, it’s the slow time of the year for folks like you and me. We’ll be lucky to get a cab out here even if we call for one. Nobody wants to risk losing the money on a fare that might not pay. Gas is expensive as hell out here on São Tomè.”
“I see…” Marie replied, and helped Lewis push open the doors. It was a tight fit with the luggage, and her new travelling companion was seriously not the athletic type. Just carrying the bags he brought along had him winded already. She briefly pondered why he kept hitching up his pants, but explained it away as something she probably didn’t want an answer for.
If she had known the truth, Marie would have been freaking out. Lewis had a heavy .357 revolver tucked into his waistband, the one thing she definitely had not seen, nor the attendant at the airport. The ugly shirt Lewis wore expertly covered it up and his personal bulk did the rest. With no metal detectors to contend with, getting the gun through the airport had been a breeze.
The “business” he was here for was one task that guaranteed him an instant retirement. Indeed, his employer, who Lewis had yet to meet in person, had already fronted him fifteen thousand dollars to cover expenses on this little venture. All Lewis had to do was find this Marie Brisbee and bring something called The Blue Star to man who hired him. After that, he was promised a hundred thousand big ones, wired straight into his bank account.
Lewis didn’t really care what the job was, as long as it paid, and this one was the mother lode.
When they stepped outside, Marie could see where government spending had reached its limit like a clear line. The concrete sidewalk abruptly ceased to exist a few feet from where the entrance to the airport ended and a dirty gravel road began.
“That’s the way to São Tomè City,” Lewis informed her. “About the only bit of civilization around these parts.”
Lewis cinched his bag up over his shoulder and carefully pulled back the bottom corner of his shirt, exposing the wood-grain handle of the revolver. His hand wrapped around it and he was about to pull it out when suddenly Marie spoke up and pointed out over the horizon.
“Look! I think a cab is already on its way!”
“Hu-whazzat?” Lewis stammered, and quickly shoved the revolver back into his waistband before she could see it. Mentally, he was cursing whoever was driving that damned taxi.
It wasn’t in him to take a life, but he figured Marie didn’t need to know that. He’d just
wait until they got into town and find a quiet place without a lot of people. Then, he’d flash the gun or press it against her back. Lewis knew he wasn’t some expert on archeology, so he’d simply have her lead the way to the treasure. If he needed to hold her at gunpoint the entire time, then he would.
The car revved up around the corner of the airfield and found the road again, backtracking across what Marie thought was the median until it came to a rest right in from of them both. A cloud of dust streamed from under the front tires, missing Marie but totally covering Lewis in a fine layer of chalky white sand. He blew out through his nose first, sending out a little visible puff of flakes before coughing loudly and opening his eyes, trying to brush the grit off his face with a clean handkerchief.
When the dust settled, Marie cautiously leaned over, making sure to maintain her distance, and peered into the cab. Sitting in the cracked leather driver’s seat was a ridiculously attractive, brown-haired man with a thick bristle of unshaved beard and penetrating, powder blue eyes. His expression was nonchalant, bordering on impatience. Marie opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words. She felt struck in the head by his grizzled good looks; he was like something out of those movies she always watched, and having her brain suddenly becoming paralyzed by him made her feel both stupefied and highly intrigued.
Marie took him in, checking out the careless way his shirt hung open and the way the beads of sweat and road dust clung to his firm, tanned chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his big hands were wrapped around the steering wheel. The man was visibly powerful and strong, well prepared for hard labor or, “…something delightfully akin to it,” Marie thought devilishly.
A simple, albeit very dusty, brown Stetson fedora rested on his head, which he’d pulled down slightly to shield his eyes from the sun. He crudely slapped the vehicle into park and Marie’s trance was broken when the man impatiently asked, with an American accent, “You just going to stand there or were you planning on walking into town?”
“How much?” Marie asked, feeling a little dejected by his attitude. He might be insanely hot, but he was definitely less civilized than most of the men she encountered back home.
“Ten bucks each. One’s gotta ride in the back seat, though.”
Lewis already had the bags to the back of the car and was loading them in the trunk. “So what? I’ll take the back seat,” he called out, slamming the lid and reappearing with a satisfied smile. He had somehow managed to brush off most of the dust. “Gives me some room to stretch my legs.”
“Whatever you say, pal,” the driver replied, and opened the passenger door with a rusty squeak for Marie. “It’s now or never, lady. I won’t be back until tomorrow.”
Marie let out a light scoff and took her seat in the cab. The interior was caked in almost more dirt than the outside, probably from many hard travels across the island, and a silvery necklace with a pendant depicting Saint Christopher hung over the rearview mirror. Below it was a relatively-new looking taxi service badge, with the man’s face on it and his name.
“Ethan McReady?” Marie said under her breath. She didn’t know if he really looked ready for anything, except perhaps a shower and a roll in the hay.
Once they had driven past the airport, the road became harsher and the jungle began to close in. The dry environment around the airport gave way to a wet tangle of trees and brush, which looked like they were in a state of permanent moisture. Little houses dotted the path and leaves slapped against the side panels and fractured windshield of the car as they went.
Marie was more consumed with planting her feet into the floorboard or gripping tightly to the bag in her lap than looking at the sights. Ethan drove with a practiced recklessness, which his wide smile seemed to illustrate he was enjoying immensely.
This was what he loved to do, and not just driving, either. Ethan was the kind of man that savored a thrill. He also took the occasion to savor some of the beautiful women he’d met on his travels, but the one sitting in his cab had even him feeling tongue-tied.
He checked out Marie from the corner of his eye. “Damn,” he thought. His eyes drifted down to the smooth skin of one creamy thigh. The curves there aroused him and he couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like without all those pesky clothes in the way. His gaze went up, past the rolled cuff of her shorts and to the small window of uncovered, flat belly that peeked out from under her clothing. Her porcelain skin told him that she wasn’t one to get outdoors much, but he loved how silky and pure it looked. She had hidden the rest of what interested him behind a plain t-shirt which fit snugly around her shapely breasts. Ethan shook his head lightly and blew out hard. “Man. They don’t make ‘em like that around here, that’s for sure.”
When he caught her suddenly press her hands against the dashboard during a hard curve, Ethan let out a little laugh.
“You tourists always act like I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m a professional, you know?”
Marie held onto her hat and asked, “You’re going to get us killed, driving like this. Why don’t you slow down?”
Ethan was affronted. “Lady, if you got a better way to get this car up these muddy hills than to go fast, I’m all ears. Besides, I’ve only been in four wrecks since I started doing this.”
“How long is that?” Marie asked.
“About three months,” he answered. Marie resumed her death grip on the dashboard.
Lewis had stretched out behind her, with his eyes closed and his head resting on a large white sack bundled up on the opposing seat. How he could be so calm while the vehicle jarred them around and hugged the edges of the road around precipitous drops was beyond her.
“This here’s a shortcut. It’s about a twenty minute drive into the city, unless we have to stop,” Ethan said, and accelerated over the next hill.
“Why would we need to –“
Her sentence was abruptly cut short when they narrowly avoided a collision with a man leading a donkey cart down the middle of the road. The engine groaned and the squealing sound of the suspension cut across the jungle as the car spun, almost flying off into a ravine, before barely regaining the muddy road. Ethan had lost his smile in an effort to control the vehicle, but quickly found it again as they straightened out and continued on.
“You’re insane!” Marie shouted.
“Oh come on,” Ethan rebutted, spinning the steering wheel between his hands. “Everybody drives like this down here, at least the ones that have a car. It’s better than getting stuck. You get used to it, ok?”
When the car skidded to a sudden stop in the middle of the jungle a few minutes later, Marie opened her mouth to protest before he could exit, but in a flash, Ethan was already out of the car and swinging open the back door.
“What are you doing?” she asked, appalled. “Sir? This isn’t the city!”
“Excuse me, partner,” he said, and snatched the white sack out from under Lewis’ head. Lewis flopped back onto the seat, looking confused, and sat back up. “I told you we might have to stop, didn’t I? Calm down, already.”
Marie and Lewis watched Ethan as he hurriedly ran down the edge of the road in front of the car. When he’d gone no farther than a few yards out, he bent over, reached into the thick grass of the ditch, and pulled out something long, black, and writhing – a snake bigger than anything Marie had ever seen in real life. Comically, he jumped back several times when the snake twisted towards him, but eventually closed his fist around it near the top of the head and dropped it tail-first into the sack.
Ethan swung the back door open again and tossed the sack of snakes back onto the seat. “Keep an eye on that, will ya?” he said, and Lewis let out a little shout of terror. Trying to escape the sudden, unwelcome, slithery guests, he pulled hard on the door handle and back pedaled away as fast as he could. The door came open with a pop and Lewis fell unceremoniously onto his ass and into the road.
“The bag’s tied up!” Ethan called out, but Lewis was beyond h
earing.
Now covered in a mixture of road dust from the airport and thick brown mud, Lewis cursed and slipped, his feet skidding out from under him as they searched for traction.
“Snakes? You keep a bag of friggin’ snakes in the back seat with your passengers!?” Lewis cried, and pulled himself up using the bumper of the vehicle. He was breathing in rapid gusts and clutched at his chest like he was about to go into cardiac arrest. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”
“They don’t like it in the trunk,” Ethan replied with a shrug.
Lewis took a step towards the car and his loafers found a fresh pile of donkey dung. He let loose a disgusted groan and pulled his leg back, losing his shoe in the process, and cursed again while hopping on one foot.
“That’s it! I’ve had it with this hellhole!” Lewis spat, and pulled the revolver out of his waistband, leveling it at Ethan from across the car.
“Whoa! Calm down, buddy!” Ethan exclaimed and raised his hands.
Lewis then stomped over to the passenger door and pulled it open. “Time to go, toots. You’re coming with me.” He pointed the gun at Marie and waved it to indicate he wanted her out of the vehicle.
When she saw the gun, Marie’s heart nearly stopped. She went into this knowing there might be danger, but hadn’t expected to find it so soon. Shaking with panic, she raised her palms and cringed away.
“C’mon! I ain’t got all day!” Lewis threatened. “Get out of the- oooof!”
Lewis’ eyes crossed and the gun fell from his hands. The rock that had hit him in the head rebounded off the car and dropped right in front of Marie, right along with Lewis, who flopped down into the mud in spectacular, face-first fashion.
The driver’s door came open in a flash and Ethan got behind the wheel. He floored the accelerator, sending a shower of mud out the back of the car and spraying Lewis as he tried to collect himself. As they tore around the next curve, gunshots rang out from behind them.
Bad Boys and Billionaires (The Naughty List Bundles) Page 63
