kiDNApped (A Tara Shores Thriller) (20 page)

He could think of no plausible way for his sister to have figured out on her own that the
Tropic Sequence
had met its end in Kauai—and with such certainty that she’d staked her own time and money on a chartered plane and then a rented boat to see if her hunch was correct. It was obvious that something had led her right to it.

Lance had considered saying that Tara singlehandedly deduced the yacht’s whereabouts. But the very fact that Lance had been travelling around with an FBI agent would make his associates more than a little nervous, and he wasn’t yet sure they knew of her involvement. The local TV news reports had only mentioned Kauai Police, not the FBI.
Won’t bring up Agent Shores unless I have to.

He started shaking his head before any words left his mouth. He turned to face Right.

“It was that guy Dave. I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Lance got up from the table. The man on his left started to ask a question but Right indicated for him to wait. After Lance had walked back up into the hotel, the two kidnappers conferred with one another.

On the sand, Tara's mind was racing to keep up with these new developments.
Lance set up a meeting with these Chinese guys. He's lying to them about Dave.
She wanted badly to take a picture of Lance and the two Chinese with the digital camera now in her beach bag, but she decided it wasn't worth the risk of ending this new flood of information by being spotted. And…
Marissa
? The name sounded vaguely familiar. Where had she heard it? Her mind raced to place it in connection with the case.

Suddenly Tara heard a voice repeat itself, and she realized that a man was talking to her. She looked up to see a twenty-something Hawaiian-looking surfer type, carrying a surfboard, wearing only board shorts. “Eh there, watcha listening to?” He smiled broadly, staring down at her.

Instantly Tara assessed him and found him to be just a guy who thought he was hitting on some random girl at the beach. Annoyed at the interruption to her eavesdropping, Tara pulled out one earbud and replied, “Just a talk show. Sorry but I'm kind of busy now, okay?”

The guy gave her a
shaka
sign and smiled again, moving off toward the water. “You ever want to learn how to surf, you let me know, yeah?” She chuckled as she pictured herself coming into the F.O. with her hair still wet, stashing a surfboard in the corner of her office.

Tara replaced the earphones and again focused on Lance's table, where even she, in her role as an FBI agent having seen a steady parade of human wreckage for the last six years, heard the conversation take a decidedly disturbing turn.

…CGAC
36
GAAA...

Lance, seated once again at the table after returning from the restroom, had the undivided attention of his dining companions.

“Dave Turner? The same Dave your sister hired to scuba dive with?” the man on Lance’s right asked.

“Yes,” Lance said. “And by the way, some of those shots were a little too close out there on the boat. I mean, I can see how you want to discourage them from pursuing this, but—”

Lance was carefully formulating a response when their server appeared with breakfast. He ordered another mimosa. After the plates were set and the first bites taken, the Asians looked at Lance, awaiting their answer.

“They found the metal detector Dave was using the day before—for what, I don’t know—and that metal digging thing that goes with it. The only other thing they found besides that was a computer flash drive, but it was ruined from being in the water.”

The two Asians looked at each other increasing Lance’s nervousness. Did they know he was leaving something out? He didn’t see how they could possibly know Kristen had copied the drive's contents, but he did not want to dwell on this subject.

“But listen, we’ve got a bigger problem than that right now,” Lance went on. “Here’s what I wanted to talk about.”

Both of them paused with their forks in mid-air, concerned as to what Lance might say next. The server retuned with Lance’s drink and left again. Lance savored the control he now felt at directing the course of the discussion. He took a long sip of his drink while the kidnappers watched.

“Unfortunately—and I’ve been in contact this morning with my family’s will and probate attorney to confirm this—my father will not be declared dead today. Kauai police say that because his yacht was found deliberately wrecked with his crew dead, but not him, that the active investigation is being reopened.”

The men on either side of him said nothing, only stared out across the beach as if they were tourists taking in the view for the first time, enjoying the quiet company of friends.

“What this means,” Lance went on, spelling it out for them, “is that the disbursement of my father’s assets—including my share of his estate which was left to me in his will—will be delayed.” Lance sucked down more of his beverage while he waited for his connections to process the bombshell.

“Delayed by how long?” Right asked.

“Until he can be declared legally dead,” Lance said. Or physically, actually dead, he thought, and then felt so sick for an instant that he almost vomited right there on the table.

Lance almost snorted orange juice and champagne through his nose. “Unfortunately, yes, that’s exactly what it means. If I had a couple of million dollars laying around, I wouldn’t have gone through with this in the first place.”

“Enough!” Left said. “You will not mention money like that again, do you understand me?” he finished through clenched teeth.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Lance said, meaning it. Three men arguing in public while mentioning large sums of money would make for a memorable moment, and the last thing Lance wanted to do was stand out in anyone’s mind.

“You must not lose control of your emotions,” Left said.

“I’m not losing control,” Lance countered. “You’re the ones who let this thing with Dave and Johnson get all screwed up. It’s not my fault your boats are shooting up Waikiki Beach in the middle of the goddamn day. Talk about losing control. I thought you were professionals.”

A look of infuriation took over Left’s face. He leaned forward until his eyes were only inches from Lance’s.

“I will not be insulted by a man who cannot deliver what he has promised.”

Left shoved his chair back and stood up. Right did the same, albeit in a more composed fashion. Left threw his napkin on the table.

“You wait. Preferably on the mainland with your sister, where you belong and will stay out of trouble. There is also the possibility that perhaps your father will be receptive to an offer of a different kind.”

Lance made a spitting noise. “You mean GREENBACK? It was part of our deal that you leave him alone in that regard.”

“But you are unable to keep your end of the deal. Things did not happen as you said. We will need to sequester him for a bit longer.”

“
Sequester
? Is that what you’re calling it these days? Listen, you can’t blame me for this. I’ve done my best.”

The Asian man gripped Lance’s hand as if for a sincere handshake, pumping it while putting on a beaming fake smile for whoever happened to be watching.

…CGTG
37
TTAT...

7:44 AM

Tara ripped out the headphones and shoved the parabolic mike into her bag. Throwing her clothes back on, she watched the two Asian men leave the restaurant by the side entrance and retreat down the beach access path to the street. Meanwhile, Lance was still sitting at the table alone, head in his hands.
I know where to find him.

Tara sprinted across the sand and bolted down the beach access path after Lance's dining companions, weaving in and out of slow moving tourist herds on their way to the beach. Ducking around a group of Japanese visitors, Tara was unable to avoid a fat woman who'd been looking the other way, and ran full force into her, sending the woman sprawling onto the ground, her husband's cursing fading behind her as she continued to run.

She reached the street in time to see the two kidnappers ease into the back of a waiting taxi, unaware they'd been followed. The cab pulled onto the road heading away from Waikiki toward Diamond Head. Tara's car was parked too far away to give chase.

Watching the taxi drive off, Tara considered her next move. The kidnappers had threatened Dave by name. She had to alert Dave and Kristen as to what she knew. She'd find Lance later. She trotted off toward her parked car, a few blocks away.

 
Lance mumbled a half-assed apology to a fellow pedestrian he had just bumped into on the sidewalk. Consumed by inner turmoil, his mind replayed the details of his breakfast meeting to the point that he was not seeing what was in front of him while he walked. Zombie-like, he strode away from Diamond Head on Kalakaua Avenue back toward his hotel.

The bastards were keeping his father! This was not part of the bargain, yet, what could he do about it? What were his choices? He couldn’t very well inform the police or the FBI that he’d arranged to have his father kidnapped, and that his partners had refused to release him after he was unable to come up with the money. This maelstrom of uncertainty raged inside his brain as he paced onward, oblivious to the beautiful, sun-drenched day around him.

He had no idea what to do. He knew one thing, though.

Dr. William Archer was in terrible danger.

The kidnappers as much as told him that they would
extract
his father’s global warming bug technology out of him, like an oyster from its shell. Or like an industrial secret from a torture victim. And that’s what they wanted in the first place, Lance thought as he skirted around a mother with a baby stroller. The mother held up a camera as he passed, asked him if he would take a snapshot of her and her baby with the beach in the background. In a trance, Lance took the camera from her and framed the shot while his mind continued to roam.

Even if I had given them the two million, they still probably had no plans of just releasing my father. But now I’ve given them an easy excuse to renege on the deal...

Lance was moving again. He couldn’t even remember giving the camera back to the lady, wasn’t sure he knew what was going on.

Behind the wheel of her Crown Vic, Tara picked up her cell-phone and dialed Kristen's number. The marine microbiologist answered on the second ring. Tara asked where she was.

“I’m up here at Dave’s. He offered to make me breakfast, so I stopped by after I was done at the lab. Sequencing should be done in four-to-six hours. I told them about the bioluminescent—”

Tara cut her off. Anywhere with Dave was not a safe place to be right now. “Kristen, listen to me, I have something very important to tell you and Dave.”

“Okay.”

Tara knew that cellular phones were anything but secure modes of communication, especially Kristen’s, which wouldn’t have the same advanced counter-surveillance technology Tara’s did. What she needed to tell them would have to be done face-to-face. “I need to talk in person.” Kristen started to give her the address.

“Stop—I'll get it myself. I'll see you in a few.” Tara clicked off and focused on the road. The last thing she wanted was to broadcast their location. Dave was in the phone book, anyway, she already knew from her preliminary casework, but there was no need to make tracking him down that much easier for anyone who might be listening.

Lance was surprised to find their hotel room empty. Kristen had said she’d be back after she dropped the sample off at the lab. Not seeing any notes left for him, he took out his cell-phone and called his sister.

…CGGC
38
CGGA...

Dave’s truck was in the driveway and the door to his house was open. Tara entered and closed the door behind her. No reason for the whole neighborhood to hear what was about to transpire.

Inside, the smell of bacon, eggs and papaya permeated the air as Tara passed through the living room. She walked past the table of laptops and into the kitchen, where Kristen and Dave sat at a round table, eating.