Joe glanced back to see Jade kneeling next to her friend. "Same hair, same build, same suit, same surfboard," he noted grimly. "Yeah, I know. So let's find whoever fired the slugs and break his arms. I'd break his spine, but he probably doesn't have one."
"Good idea," another voice chimed in. "I'll help." It was Al Kealoha, the massive Hawaiian surfer.
Seeing Al reminded Joe of something. "Just the guy I wanted to see," he began, before his brother could say anything. "I think you said something the other day about only one other surfer being almost as good as Jade. I was just wondering who she is."
Al jerked his head back toward the small crowd. "You just hauled her out of the Pacific."
"You mean Connie?" Frank asked.
The surfer nodded. "Connie's got all the right moves. She can still beat just about anybody in the women's circuit."
"Anybody but Jade," Joe added.
"You're real akamai for a malihini," the Hawaiian said.
"A smart tourist," Frank translated.
Joe glanced at his brother. "Since when do you speak Hawaiian?"
Frank shrugged. "There's a lot of useful stuff in those guidebooks."
"Well, do the guidebooks say where to find suspects after you discover that your number-one choice is the victim's best friend and almost ended up as another victim?" Joe muttered under his breath.
Al shook his head slowly. "You guys are wasting your time if you think a surfer's behind this. We stick together. We don't stick knives in our friends' backs."
As Al started to walk away from the Hardys, a guy with shoulder-length blond hair stopped him by clutching his arm. He had the tan and muscular build of a surfer, but he wasn't dressed for the water. He was wearing a T-shirt and baggy shorts.
"Hey, Al. Wait up," Frank heard him say. "I just got here, and I heard that something happened to Jade. Is she all right?"
The big Hawaiian gripped the newcomer's shoulders. "Hang steady, Nick," he said calmly. "It wasn't Jade - it was Connie."
Frank saw the look of concern on Nick's face change to one of horror. "Connie," he croaked. "No ... it couldn't be ... I mean, I thought ... Where is she? I've got to see her!" He broke away and pushed through the crowd.
There was a brief commotion, and then the Hardys saw him hustling Connie out of the circle of onlookers, his arm around her shoulder.
Frank and Joe looked at each other. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Joe asked.
"I'm thinking we should find out more about this Nick character," Frank answered.
It took a while for the police to arrive on the scene. By the time they finished interviewing everyone and filling out their endless forms, it was late in the afternoon.
Joe could see that Jade was pretty badly shaken. It was finally starting to sink in that someone wanted her in the past tense, and Joe knew how hard that was to handle. So he decided to wait until she had calmed down a little before bringing up the subject of someone trying to eliminate her again.
Finally when they were in her jeep, driving back to Honolulu, he decided the time was right. "So who's Nick?" he asked casually.
"Nick?" Jade spoke distantly. Her mind was somewhere else - either on the road or replaying the events of the last two days. "Oh, Nick Hawk, Connie's boyfriend. Why?"
"His reaction seemed a little ... strange," Frank suggested.
"Well, someone just took a couple of potshots at his girlfriend," Jade snapped. "How is he supposed to react? How am I supposed to react?"
"Hey, we're just trying to help," he assured her. "If you say the guy's all right, we'll just drop it. Okay?"
She nodded. They drove without speaking for a few minutes. Jade finally broke the silence and said, "Nick's a little edgy. He used to be a pretty hot surfer. But he shattered his knee a couple of years ago in a real serious wipeout.
"He can walk okay now," she continued. "He can even surf a little. But his competition days are over. So he channels all his energy into Connie's surfing. He's more like her trainer now than her boyfriend. I think winning means a lot more to him than it does to her."
"How badly do you think he wants Connie to win?" Frank prodded.
Jade shook her head. "Not enough to kill me. We may not all like each other, but we're still part of the same big family."
"Surfers are really important to you, aren't they?" Joe observed.
"Is your brother important to you?" she replied, not waiting for a reply. "Other than my dad, they're all I've got."
"You told us about your mother," Frank said. "But don't you have any other relatives?"
Jade shrugged. "None that I know of. I don't even know how my mom died. My dad doesn't like to talk about it. I think her death must have been very painful for him. I think we moved to the islands because he wanted to cut off the past."
A brief smile passed over her lips. "Sometimes I feel like we didn't exist before we came to Hawaii."
***
The sun was getting low in the sky by the time they got back to the hotel. Jade turned off the ignition and the engine shuddered and died. She shifted in her seat so she could take in both brothers. The tension on her face was evident, and Joe wanted to do something to make it disappear.
"Look," she began, "I'm sorry I yelled at you before. But this is all just a little too weird, you know? Who'd want to kill me? And why?"
"We'll find out," Joe promised. "But maybe you'd be safer staying with us instead of going home. Our dad used to be a cop, and he still has some powerful connections."
Jade reached out and took his hand. "Thanks, Joe. But I really should go home. Besides, even if Nick Hawk is behind this - and I'm sure he isn't - I don't think he'd try anything at my house. I'll be all right."
"At least give us your address and phone number, in case we have to reach you," Frank urged.
She took a piece of paper out of the glove compartment, scribbled something on it, folded it once, and placed it in Joe's palm. Then she closed his fingers over it. "Keep it in a safe place," she said. "Our phone number is unlisted, and my father doesn't like my friends to come to the house. Not many people know where we live."
Reluctantly they let her go and watched as she pulled the jeep out into traffic.
Frank's eye was caught by a blue sedan pulling away from the curb just then. It moved in right behind the old green jeep. At first he thought the rear window of the car was frosted. No, he decided, that wasn't right.
With a jolt, he recognized the spiderweb pattern of cracks, snaking out from where the chair he had thrown had smashed into the glass.
Chapter 5
"That's the car," Frank said, grabbing hold of his brother's arm.
"What?" Joe said.
"That's the car," Frank repeated. "The car from yesterday. Look at the rear window. That's where I hit it."
"And now it's following Jade," Joe cried out. "We've got to stop him!"
"We need a car," Frank said.
He jogged over to a man in a red coat who was standing next to a sign that announced Valet Parking. "Can I borrow your jacket for five minutes?" he asked.
The man eyed him warily. "How do I know you'll bring it back?"
Frank waved Joe over, turned back to the parking attendant, and said, "I'll leave my brother as collateral. Okay?"
The man took one look at Joe's wide frame moving toward him and stripped off the jacket. "Here," he said, handing it to Frank. "Keep it as long as you want. No sweat."
Frank darted into the parking garage, thrusting his arms through the sleeves of the attendant's red jacket as he ran.
He slowed down as he neared a door next to a large window that looked into the garage. Through the glass, Frank could see rows of car keys hanging on hooks on the wall. He also saw a fat, bald man leaning back in a chair, his feet propped up against a desk.
Frank tugged on the sleeves of the red jacket. They were a little short, but they would do. He walked through the door. "The guy in twenty-five-fifteen wants his car," he announced.
Frank smiled. "He lost it. But he says he'll pay the lost-ticket charge." Frank stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a key attached to a small metal tag with a number engraved on it. "He gave me his room key to prove it was his car."
"You carhops come and go so fast, I don't even know your names. I don't think I've seen your face around before." Finally the fat man grunted and tossed something at Frank. "It's in stall thirty-eight. If anybody asks, you took it while I was in the John."
Frank snatched the key ring out of the air and headed for the door.
***
Joe was keeping the nervous parking attendant busy. His muscular build could make him look threatening even if he was smiling, and sometimes that worked exactly to his advantage. Behind his smile Joe was wondering what his brother was up to.
About two minutes later a white, four-door sedan cruised up next to him. The driver rolled down the window and tossed something out. Joe ducked, and it sailed past him. It hit the attendant square in the chest. It was his red jacket.
Frank poked his head out the driver's-side window. "Let's put this baby in gear and get out of here," he said.
Joe ran around to the other side and slid into the front seat next to his brother. The car was already moving as he slammed the door shut.
"I hope Dad wasn't planning on going out tonight," Frank said. "This is the car we rented at the airport."
At the end of the driveway, Frank turned in the direction the jeep had gone a few minutes earlier. "There should be a map in there," he said, nodding toward the glove compartment. "See if you can find the street Jade lives on."
Joe found the map, unfolded it, and spread it out in his lap. His eyes scanned it carefully, comparing street names to the one Jade had written down. It was slow going. All the Hawaiian names looked the same to him - mostly vowels with a few consonants thrown in here and there. "Got it!" he finally announced.
He glanced out the window, spotted a street sign, and then looked at the map again. "Turn right at the next intersection," he directed his brother.
Frank flicked the turn signal and moved over into the right lane. In the rear-view mirror he could see a black van behind them do the same. Frank turned the corner, and the van followed.
He didn't say anything about it to Joe. He wasn't sure yet, and he needed his brother to navigate without any distractions.
Joe looked up from the map and peered out the window. They passed a few more streets. "Whoa!" he suddenly yelled. "Back up! I think we were supposed to take that street back there."
Frank made sure there was no traffic in the oncoming lane, cranked the wheel hard to the left, and came around in a tight U-turn. The black van held its course, moving off in the other direction. Frank let out a small sigh of relief, but then he noticed that their unwanted shadow was pulling into a driveway. Maybe he lives there, he told himself, but the van backed out into the road. Pretty soon it was close behind them again.
They rolled up to a stoplight. "This is it," Joe said. "Turn right here."
Frank didn't move. He checked the rear-view mirror. The van was still there. He checked the traffic on the cross street. There were a few cars in the distance, but the intersection was clear for now.
"Come on," Joe urged. "You can turn right on a red light. It's legal."
Frank flicked on the turn signal, but he kept his foot on the brake. He glanced left and right. Cars from both directions were almost at the intersection. A few more seconds ticked by.
Joe reached out and shook his brother's shoulder. "Frank? What's wrong? Why are we just sitting - "
Frank slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the tires screamed. The car shot straight ahead. Horns on both sides blared a frantic warning. Frank ignored them, his hands gripping the wheel, his foot jamming the gas pedal into the floor.
They flashed across the intersection just before the cross traffic closed the gap.
" - here?" Joe finished his sentence on the other side.
Frank relaxed. He took his foot off the accelerator, and the car slowed down.
"What was that all about?" Joe demanded.
"We had company," Frank explained. "But I think we lost them."
There was a screech of rubber somewhere behind them. Joe snapped his head around to get a look out the back window. "Was it a black van? Sort of like ours back home?"
Frank's eyes darted to the rear-view mirror and saw it, tires smoking and the back end fishtailing as the van imitated his stunt.
"Hang on," he muttered through clenched teeth. Then he punched the gas again, trying to put some distance between them and the black van. At the first street he came to he turned left, then right a block later, and another left at the next street.
Frank kept his eyes locked on the road in front of him, but still he had to know. "Is it still there?"
"Yeah," Joe said. "But we're pulling away. He probably can't corner too well in that thing. A few more sharp turns should do it."
A steep hill loomed in front of them. The road didn't go up it or around it - it went through it. "Turn where?" Frank shouted as they entered the tunnel.
On the other side, the road ended abruptly. They were surrounded by a towering wall of rock splattered with brownish green plants and vines. On a small sign were the words Diamond Head Park.
Joe searched for another exit. "There's got to be another way out of here," he insisted.
Frank slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded to a halt. "Yeah," he replied, "over the top. This is Diamond Head - an extinct volcano. We're sitting at the bottom of the crater."
They could hear the van coming through the tunnel, the rumble of the engine echoing off the walls. "I guess it's too late to go back the way we came," Joe said.
They got out of the car and looked up the side of the ancient volcano. The sun was beginning to set, and deep shadows filled the crater. Frank could just make out a lazy zigzag pattern near the top, and his eyes traced its downward path. "There's a trail over there," he said, pointing off to the left.
Behind them, they heard a car door open, then another. Joe whirled around and saw the black van. There were two unfriendly-looking men standing next to it. One of them was wearing a gray suit. A ragged scar slashed down the left side of his forehead.
The other one was wearing a windbreaker over his shirt. Joe knew that guys who wear coats on hot days are usually hiding something inside them.
"We want to have a little talk with you," the man in the suit called out.
"So start talking," Joe said as he backed around the rented car. He wanted to put a nice, thick steel barrier between himself and the concealed "conversation piece" he was sure the man's hand was resting on under the coat.
"What now?" he whispered to his brother.
"Don't worry," Frank said in a low voice. "I've got a plan."
"Great. What is it?"
"Run," he said. Then he turned and bolted toward the trail.
Joe was right on his heels. "I was afraid that was the plan!" he shouted in Frank's ear. He glanced back and saw the two men lumbering after them. Frank and Joe had a good head start, and they were in better shape than their pursuers. They could easily stay out of firing range - as long as they had someplace to run.
Joe wasn't worried about himself. He was thinking about Jade. If they didn't find a way out of the crater soon, they might not be able to stop the driver of the blue sedan - if it wasn't already too late.
"What do we do when we get to the top?" Joe huffed.
Frank looked up. He figured the volcano was about seven hundred feet high, but it would take a while to reach the top on the switchback trail. "I haven't figured that out yet."
"Terrific," Joe muttered.
They jogged past a dark opening in the side of the volcanic wall. It looked like a cave. But Frank thought it might be something else. He doubled back and peered inside. It was pitch black.
His brother join
ed him, poking his head into the gloom. "Great place to get trapped," Joe said.
"Not if this is what I think it is," Frank said, stepping inside. "Come on. This could be our ticket out of here."
Joe shrugged and followed him. They moved slowly through the darkness, stumbling over invisible debris. Frank felt his way around a corner and found himself in a chamber filled with long shadows and an eerie orange glow.
"What is this place?" Joe asked.
Frank pointed at the source of the light. It was the last rays of sunlight streaming in through a long, narrow opening carved into the far end of the volcanic wall.
"It's an old gun emplacement from World War Two. They turned Diamond Head into a kind of armored fortress. After the war they pulled out all the hardware but left the holes. The crater is honeycombed with these old pillboxes."
"So you were hoping maybe we'd find some old guns, too?" Joe asked.
"No," Frank said. "I was hoping we could lose those guys in the maze of tunnels. But it looks like this is a dead end."
Joe wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Well, maybe if we double back before - "
"Hey, Pete!" a muffled voice shouted from just outside the tunnel. "I thought I heard something over here in this cave. Maybe we should check it out."
"Yeah," came the reply. "Let's get it over with."
Chapter 6
Joe scanned the chamber for any kind of weapon. A rock, a brick, anything to give them a fighting chance. A shadow high up on the wall cast by the setting sun caught his eye. He looked up and saw a rusty metal rod hanging from the cement ceiling.
Frank saw it, too. "Steel-reinforced concrete," he whispered. "This place was built to take a lot of shelling."
Joe jumped up and grabbed the rod. It sagged under his weight and then snapped off. Joe dropped softly to the floor, holding a four-foot chunk of solid steel.
Frank saw another metal bar suspended above the narrow entrance to the room. He didn't think it would break off so easily - but he had an idea.
Fright Wave Page 3
