Bon Bini Beach
A Thriller
Suzanne Vermeer
Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
Epilogue
Prologue
The warm evening breeze on the beach, the stars, the campfire, the music: everything was perfect. Marc would be back in a moment. Deep down, she hoped he wouldn’t catch up with Dominique and Todd. Then they could have the rest of the evening all to themselves. Up until now she had not been very forthcoming with him, and she really wanted to make that up to him tonight.
She stretched out in the sand. A holiday romance was a beautiful thing, and Aruba was heaven on earth. It was hard to believe that she had never been to the Caribbean before. It felt as if somehow a magical part of the world had been kept secret from her.
“Hi, Lil,” she heard behind her.
She looked up and wasn’t even surprised to see him.
“Hello,” she answered coldly.
“I saw you, and I just had to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
“How are you doing? You’re here with Do right?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Don’t be like that.”
He looked at her in a way that he knew she found irresistible. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Lilian looked around. Marc was nowhere to be found. She stood up, brushed the sand from her clothes, and looked at him expectantly.
“Not here,” he said, gesturing at all the couples that were making out around the campfire.
Together they walked away from the fire and the beach, farther inland.
“You should have talked to me about it,” he said reproachfully.
Lilian shook her head firmly. “No, this was my decision.”
“Come on, Lil: this was something you and I shared together.”
“There is no more ‘you and I.’ There hasn’t been for a very long time now.”
“That just isn’t true.”
She stopped walking. “I mean it!”
“Yes, but I mean it, too!” he pleaded. “You and I, we had a beautiful thing, why can’t we just …”
“I don’t want to hear another word about it,” she cut him off impatiently. “This had a far bigger impact on me than it did on you.”
“How can you say that? I …”
“You need to leave me alone. I mean it. If you don’t, then …”
His gaze became harsh. “Then what?”
“Then I know exactly whom I need to inform about ‘you and me.’ ” she said, making imaginary quotation marks next to her head.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. He looked around.
“This can’t be it,” he said. “We can’t end it like this. We have to talk about this some more.”
He placed his open hand on her lower back and forced her to walk with him.
“You haven’t thought this through, Lil. I understand that—after all you’ve been through. But …”
“Don’t think you can talk me out of this. I’m done with all of this. I refuse to keep my mouth shut any longer.”
He shook his head.
His fingers in her back pushed her along, continuing to the other side of the island.
1
“Good morning, Do. Sorry to call you this early, but I’m about to leave for New York.”
With great difficulty, Dominique Werner pried her eyes open. After last night’s party she wasn’t quite ready to face the world just yet. She yawned so hard that she could hear her ears pop as she stretched out, holding her cell phone between her head and shoulder.
“Well, well, then—you sound like you were in a coma,” her father commented, seemingly amused. “Late night last night?”
“Not too bad. About four a.m., I think?” Dominique mumbled. She moved slightly from under the covers and propped herself up on her elbow. In the places where the blinding sunlight peered through her brightly colored curtains it looked like a giant spotlight was shining inside her bedroom. Her clothes and a pair of pumps, which she had dropped in a messy pile on the floor early this morning, were highlighted by the sun.
“It never fails with you—party hearty after the exams, huh?” Charles Werner continued. “Reminds me of the period around all those graduation parties.”
“That was very different,” Dominique said hoarsely.
Because she was studying in Amsterdam and lived in her own apartment, her life was nothing like her high-school years in Bloemendaal, a place she had barely even visited the past three years.
“Honey, did you hear what I said? I need to leave soon,” her father repeated.
“When will you be back?”
“In eight days. But then I will have to leave again soon after. First off to Zurich and then, via Rome, Tokyo. I’ll be gone a total of three weeks.”
A discontented look came across her face. “What? Dad, we were going to go to the States together. That’s what you said!”
“Yes, yes, I know, sweetie! I haven’t forgotten. But I don’t have a choice in the matter, with the financial market the way it is at the moment. I really have to have things in order; otherwise, I can just forget about all of the profit I made this past year.”
“Well, I still think it sucks.”
“But, Do, you do understand what I’m saying, right?” he continued in a serious tone. “I’m going to make it up to you. Really. We are going to take that trip together. As promised.”
“Do you have a hot date with a woman in New York or something?” she teased.
“No, I don’t have time for things like that. I am booked solid with back-to-back appointments.” He paused for a moment. “But what I wanted to say: since I can’t keep my promise to you right now, I have a different proposition for you.”
“Instead of our trip together?”
“Yes. Remember I told you about a time-share project I’m involved in with a few of my German and American business associates?”
Dominique remembered her father had told her about this, but couldn’t quite remember the details. Whenever her father started to discuss business with her she had a tendency to tune out.
“The deal with the time-share condos: six of us bought three condos. One in Cancun, one in South Florida, and one on Aruba. Partially an investment and partially for our own use. We divided the times according to
when we can make use of them. This coming month I have Aruba. So … ”
Dominique’s eyes grew wide. “Are you saying we’re going to Aruba? But you just said …”
He interrupted her. “No, I will be gone. I already told you that. So that means that you …”
She didn’t let him finish, but jolted up. “Are you saying that I can go stay at your condo in Aruba? Oh, Dad, that’s super!”
He laughed. “I thought you would like that idea. The condos are fully furnished, and this one has a swimming pool—you can make yourself at home. Obviously, I don’t want you to be out there all alone, so you can bring someone, my treat. Maybe that boyfriend? You know, the one you told me about recently?”
“Who, Thijs? No way, that’s been over for a while! What a jerk he was. But no worries; I know someone. That won’t be a problem!” Dominique said.
“Well, you decide. You’ve got eight days to think about it. But now I really have to go, or I’ll be late for the airport. As soon as I get back, we’ll make all the arrangements for Aruba. Just email me when you’ve found the right round-trip flight, and I’ll have Stephanie take care of it all. I’ll ask her to make sure there will be food in the house when you arrive.”
Dominique had no problem booking her own flight, but she knew that if her father booked the flight through his assistant he could deduct the costs from his company expense account.
“No problem,” she promised. “Bye, Dad, talk to you next week!”
As soon as she disconnected the call, she pressed one of the speed-dial buttons on her cell phone. Impatiently she waited for the phone to be answered.
2
Lilian lay there staring at the wooden beams in the ceiling, her hands behind her head, in her small attic room. She’d had a late night and one too many drinks. She gazed at the room. She had been living here for about a week now. It was a temporary sublet, but at least it was affordable and she didn’t have to share the shower with six other people, which was the case in the house where she had lived during the past six months.
Her T-shirts and tops were hanging out to dry on a cord she had tied between her closet and the window. A poster she had once taken from her parents’ house and now carried with her to every new address hung against the dormer window. A reproduction of the red-blue Madonna of Melun by the medieval painter Jean Fouquet. She was really attached to it, and it had been one of the reasons why she decided to study art history. Her desk chair was placed neatly under her desk in order to create some walking space.
It sure was small here. Why couldn’t her father be rich like Do’s father? Then she would have her own place in the Rivierenbuurt as well. She would also have grown up in one of those villas with a housekeeper in Bloemendaal, instead of on the top floor of a small house in Haarlem.
Her cell phone ringtone brought her out of her deep state of contemplation. She looked at the screen, raised her eyebrows with surprise, and put the phone to her ear. “Do! You’re up already?”
“Yes, my dad called me. He had to leave very early for the airport,” she heard her say through the phone. “You’re up early, too.”
“Always.”
“Bad habit. You must stop that!”
Lilian smiled, amused. Dominique was her best friend. They had been friends since first grade. Back then, Do’s family still lived together in the Indonesian neighborhood in Haarlem. For as long as she and Lilian had known each other, Dominique had always been the more adventurous of the two, always filled with big plans and ideas. Since she had gone away to college, they had less contact with each other, even though they were part of the one of the same student associations. From the start, Do joined all of the various student committees and groups. Later, she was even on the board of their student association, while Lilian herself wasn’t very active in the student government and only really showed up when they had a party or special event.
“Lil, listen. What are your vacation plans?” Dominique asked.
“I’m not really sure yet. My parents asked me to go camping in France again, but I don’t really feel like it. What about you? Weren’t you going to the US with your dad?”
“That trip has been postponed. Instead, he’s sending me to Aruba.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah, you can say that again. And guess what? I’m allowed to bring someone!”
For a moment Lilian wasn’t sure what to say, but then it dawned on her. “You mean me? You’re asking me to go to Aruba with you?”
“Well, unless you’d rather go camping in France with your parents, of course?” Dominique said sarcastically. “Yes, of course I mean you! Wanna go? Business-class flight, a condo with a swimming pool, and a fridge full of Chardonnay! And my dad is paying for our entire stay. Including the flight.”
“Unbelievable!” Lilian closed her eyes and brought her hand to her forehead. “Yes, of course I want to go. So …”
“So, off we go! My father will be back next week, and I have to make all the arrangements by then.”
Lilian was sitting up straight in bed now. “For how long?”
“My dad has the house for a month—that’s how long we can stay.”
“That’s totally amazing! So much better than pitching a tent in Normandy!”
“I think so! So, I will have my dad’s assistant make the arrangements as soon as possible!”
“Okay then. Call me when you’ve got all the details.”
“Yep!”
Lilian rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she stood up. If she was leaving for Aruba in a little over a week and staying for a month, she needed to prepare. She had to inform her parents; she had to pick out her clothes. Buy a new bikini, exchange her money, pay her bills, and send out emails.
3
“So glad you could join us, Dominique; we really wanted to discuss this with you in person.”
Dominique smiled at his formal manner of speaking. “No problem, Mr. de Groot. I’m always happy to be able to join you for a home-cooked meal.”
It was familiar but also always a bit awkward to have dinner with Lilian’s parents, Henk and Gerda. Dominique had known this house for as long as she could remember. She had come to play here since she was a toddler. At that time, their mothers had been good friends and Do and her parents lived close by, in the Molukkenstraat, in a typical terrace house with a tiny garden—especially compared to the enormous garden they had later at her father’s house in Bloemendaal.
“You are welcome to join us for dinner at any time, Dominique—you know that, right?” Lilian’s mother said, passing the potatoes.
The five of them were seated at the dinner table in the De Groot family’s somewhat old-fashioned living room. There was a large pendulum clock on the mantelpiece that ticked solemnly. Dominique looked at Lilian, who was focused on her plate and cutting into her beef stew. Her younger sister, Betty, who was seated next to her, couldn’t keep her eyes off Dominique.
“Oh, yes, of course I know that, and I am grateful for it!” Do answered. “Lil and I eat together in Amsterdam sometimes too, although not as much as we use to.”
“Who cooks at your father’s house?” Gerda asked.
“Usually Helga.”
“She’s your housekeeper,” Lilian’s mother remembered. “Yes, I’ve spoken to her before; she’s a very nice woman.” She looked around the table to see if everyone had what they needed and slid the bowl of string beans toward her eldest daughter. “So, do you ever see you mother?”
“Not so much these days.” Do mashed down her potatoes with her fork. “Since she’s been in this new relationship, we don’t seem to get along very well.”
Gerda gave her an observant look. “So, where is she living these days? And how is she doing?”
“As far as I know, she’s doing fine. She has been living in Alkmaar with her boyfriend for a while now.”
Before his wife could dig any deeper into the subject, Henk said: “But we are actually here to talk about something completely differe
nt.”
“Exactly—Aruba,” Lilian interjected quickly, thankful to end her mother’s not-so-subtle interrogation maneuvers and this obviously uncomfortable conversation.
“I heard all about it,” Betty chimed in enthusiastically. “You’re going to party till you drop in the Caribbean! Awesome! Can I go?”
“Out of the question!” her father said sternly. “We haven’t even decided if Lilian is allowed to go yet!”
Lilian sighed. This is exactly the type of reaction she’d expected from them.
“To be completely honest, we’re not exactly happy with this whole idea,” Henk continued, with a serious look at Do. “It all happened so fast, and we actually had other plans.”
“We’re really looking forward to our planned vacation to Normandy,” his wife added supportively. “Also, it may be the last time that Lilian will join us.”
“Mom, don’t be so overdramatic!” Lilian said loudly, obviously irritated.
Amused, Dominique looked at each of them. It had been a long time since she’d felt like part of a family. Since high school, she had grown accustomed to eating her dinners alone in front of the TV, or sometimes with her father or Helga.
“What is important to us,” Lilian’s dad said, and again with the serious face, “is that we know exactly what the plan is. What are the arrangements there, how should we envision your stay?”
“Well, what do you think, Dad? It’s a luxurious time-share condo, so of course everything is arranged perfectly there.”
“Well, I’d like some answers from Dominique,” her father pointed out.
Dominique chewed her food slowly before she answered. She knew Lilian’s father: he was an easygoing man who had worked at an insurance agency since the dark ages. His wife was on the parent’s commission of their former school and volunteered two days a week at the local library. These were very different people than her parents, less internationally oriented than her father and a lot less free spirited than her mother. She had to try to find the right tone, or this would prove to be a difficult evening for Lil.
“My father has made all the arrangements,” she said calmly. “Obviously, he doesn’t want me to run into any trouble, so he’s made sure this whole trip has been organized to the last detail.” She decided not to mention the fact that most of the arranging was done by his assistant, and she tried to make her point as convincingly as possible. “We will be there for four weeks and will fly business class, round trip.”
Bon Bini Beach: A Thriller Page 1
