Message From Viola Mari (10 page)

“Hostage?”
That sounds hot.
“The entire weekend?” I uncrossed my legs and leaned in toward him, wanting to lick the strawberry juice off his lips.

“I suppose I’m asking too much. After all, you might miss out on your much-anticipated tee-time.” His teasing eyes glittered.

“Ha. No, that’s one engagement I’ll be happy to cancel.” I stabbed a piece of pineapple with my fork and stuck it into my mouth.

“Are there any other obligations that might interfere with what I have in mind?”

I chewed the sweet fruit, relishing its taste. “None that I can think of. But won’t you get tired of me?”

His voice grew husky. “Are you kidding? After I make love to you right there on that chair, I’m going to make love to you on every sofa, stretch of carpet, and table in this house.”

He stood and leaned over me, slowly untying my robe and peeling it off of my body. My nipples immediately jumped to attention as his eyes penetrated me with a lusty stare and the morning breeze tickled my bare skin. He brushed his fingertips gently over my breasts, my abdomen, and my inner thighs, his gold-flecked eyes keeping track of their downward journey. My pulse quickened when I saw the savage lust in his eyes. He licked his lips. “I can’t resist you,” he said. The rapture in his voice enhanced my desire for him. He stood back up, dropped his robe to the floor and sat back down in his chair. His erection rose like a pole between his thighs. “Why don’t you come and sit on me,” he ordered.

“Whatever you want.” I lowered myself onto him, taking him deep inside me.

Justin and I sat nestled together on his couch, watching the evening news. “A ten year old boy disappeared near the La Jolla Cove yesterday afternoon while swimming. His sister Samantha, who was paddling on a surfboard beside him, reported he saw a mysterious green light before he dove down to investigate and never resurfaced. Despite an extensive search, lifeguards and coastguard divers have found no signs of the boy.”

There’s something really weird about this. Something that isn’t right.
When a map showing the location of the accident flashed up on the screen, I scratched my chin. “I wonder.” Absorbed in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized I had spoken out loud.

“What is it?” asked Justin.

“Oh, it’s probably nothing. It’s just that…”

“What? Do you know something about this?”

“No, not really. I’m just wondering if where he disappeared overlaps with my study area. It’s possible he was at the fringe of those craters.”

“What could meteorite impacts possibly have to do with the boy’s disappearance?”

“Probably nothing, but I still think it’s worth checking out.”

“I’d rather check you out instead.” He slid the mug from my hand and climbed on top of me. He tickled me under the arm and I kicked and squealed until he silenced me with a kiss.

Chapter Ten

I slid my glasses up my nose and overlaid the map of where the boy had disappeared with the map of the impact sites. “Bingo.” I pulled my glasses off and stared into the distance.

I picked up the phone and dialed the marina. “Do you have a boat available today?”

“When do you need it, Miss Jones?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I can have it ready by ten thirty. Will that be all right?”

I glanced at my watch. “Yes, that will have to do.”

I still had an hour, so I went back into the laboratory to take another look at the NRG rocks. I peered through the microscope again. The structure of the minerals had once again altered.
If only I could determine what all this means…

The boat bounced over the waves toward the cove and I focused my eyes on the GPS so I could instruct the driver where to stop. “Slow down,” I said. “Okay, this is it.”

He cut the engines and dropped the anchor. “Would you like me to activate the submersible, Miss Jones?” the man asked.

“I won’t need it. It’s a shallow dive—I’m going down myself.”

“You can’t be serious about this.”

I wasn’t authorized to make reconnaissance dives without permission from my director, but my desperation to find answers overrode my normal inclination to follow protocols. “I’ll only be down for ten or fifteen minutes.”

“How will you find the crater?” asked the driver. “It’s not showing up on my radar screen.”

“I’ve got a GPS reading on its location—don’t worry.

“My butt will be in the slinger if you come up with DCS.”

“I’ve got it under control.” I pulled my wetsuit and buoyancy vest from my diving bag. I attached a tank to my regulator and vest and slung it onto my back. I inflated the vest so I’d be buoyant once I hit the water. Placing my hands over my regulator and mask, I tumbled backward off the boat into the water. I floated to the surface and released some air from my vest. Slowly, I slid down vertically through the water, watching my surroundings darken. The visibility was poor, the water green and turgid. I flipped on a light once my fins touched bottom. I shined my light on my GPS and navigated until I reached the edge of the crater. The area inside the now-flat crater felt smooth and glassy. I scrolled my flashlight across it, looking for clues. The far side of the crater lay in deeper water and by the time I reached it, my depth gauge registered one hundred feet. I hacked off a chunk of the rock to take to the lab and placed it in my pocket. Then I collected one more sample, planning to carry it everywhere so I could keep a constant eye on its changing ways.

Just as I planned to ascend, I spotted an angular object jutting up from the crater. I swam toward it, focusing my light on it. The object was as black as tar. When I kicked closer, I sucked in a deep breath. Sticking out of the rock was a fin with yellow tips. Had the boy actually free dived to this depth? I couldn’t see how he could have. It made no sense. But the evidence leaped out at me. I grabbed hold of it and tried to pull it free. But it was cemented too tightly in the matrix of rock. What a horrible find, I thought. I imagined the boy’s flesh immersed inside the rock, like he was an insect in amber. The rocks had apparently consumed him. Alarmed, I struggled to breathe slowly to conserve air. I gradually ascended to thirty feet. The sunlit shallows felt much safer than the gloomy depths, where I’d touched the rocky jaws that had ended a ten-year-old boy’s life. I tried to ponder the significance of what I’d found but still couldn’t make sense of it. Now it would be my job to warn the public that these craters had an appetite.

“Marissa, this sounds too far-fetched,” said my director, Matt. Lines etched his middle-aged face.

“I’ve shown you the photos and spoken to the divers who searched for the missing boy. His mother said he wore black fins with yellow tips when he disappeared.”

“Everyone who swims, dives or snorkels wears black fins.” Matt’s voice sounded singsong condescending. “After the impact, when the rocks were still partially melted, a lost fin must have been carried into the cooling rocks by the current.”

“No, that isn’t what happened,” I said. “The location matches the place where the boy disappeared and the fins match the mother’s description. Do you really want to take a chance this could occur again?”

“I’d rather take that chance than see our institution made into the laughing stock of the scientific community. I’m sorry, Marissa, but I’ve got serious work to tend to.” He waved his hand to dismiss me.

I stood, not believing I’d heard him right. I had answers, yet no one wanted to hear them. This was unacceptable, didn’t fit my vision of what I thought needed to happen. I gritted my teeth, more determined than ever to find every answer to this puzzle. Once I had all the information, he and everyone else would have no choice but to listen.

Two weeks later, Justin stood beside me on the golf course at the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club, holding my arms straighter and moving them back and forth. “Bend forward just a little more. That’s it, now just ease into it and swing.”

He re-positioned the angle of my arms, my stance, and then I swung, smacking the ball with my golf club. It arched neatly into the air and landed on the green, just a few feet from the hole. “I can’t believe it!” I danced around in a circle, thrilled that I hadn’t landed the ball smack in the middle of the sand pit.

“Your technique just needed a touchup,” said Justin.

“Touch up?” I patted his arm affectionately. “More like a complete overhaul.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He pinched my butt before picking up a club.

“The hell you are.” I pulled off my cap and swatted his hand.

“Stop that. I need to focus so I can make my shot.” Still looking over his shoulder at me, his lips curled in mock disapproval, he smacked the ball. It not only went onto the green, but also rolled neatly into the hole.

“That is so unfair,” I said. “You weren’t even watching the ball. You could have done that blind folded, I bet.”

“Perhaps. I’d do it to impress you, but it may be against the rules and I’d hate to get the boot from members of the Society.” He turned his nose up in the air and mimicked a British accent.

I burst out laughing. I walked over to the green and tried to control my shaking hands. I didn’t want him to laugh when my strike danced the ball around the hole instead of dropping it inside. I tried to focus. If I could suffer my boss’s ridicule over the NRG meteorite situation, I could hit a round ball into a round hole, no problem. I tapped the ball. It rolled a half circle around the hole’s perimeter before deviating out onto the grass.

“Unbelievable!” I threw my club down, surprised by the intensity of my distress.

“Here, let me help you.” Justin walked behind me as we stepped across the green. “You’re too used to activities requiring a lot of force. Just go easy and it’ll go where it’s supposed to.” He steadied my arm and kept me from swinging too hard. The ball slowly rolled toward the hole and disappeared out of site. He gave my upper arms a tight squeeze. “That’s the ticket.”

Fortunately, Justin’s tips helped tremendously. My game continued to improve as we played the course and for once, I finished without causing property damage or bodily injury. There was a first time for everything.

Chapter Eleven

“Okay, wait a minute. Your plot is people getting swallowed by meteorite craters? This is just too weird,” said Steve.

Agitated, I reached into my pocket and toyed with the NRG rock. “No, not exactly,” I said.

“Then what exactly is happening to these people?” asked Amanda.

Not sure how to respond, I tumbled the rock over a few more times in my hand. All at once, the rock clung to my fingers and I pressed them through the now soft and permeable rock. “Oh my God,” I said without thinking.

“Is something wrong?” asked Justin.

I could barely breathe, let alone talk. How could I tell them my fingers had just passed right through what was seconds ago a solid object.

“Um, oh, sorry, I just recalled a task I forgot to do at work. No problem, I’ll just take care of it after class.”

Justin’s brow creased with irritation. “Very well, now can we get back to the manuscript? You never answered her question.”

“I haven’t decided whether the craters actually consume people or whether the structures are actually some kind of passages. I mean, I haven’t decided which way I want to write it.”

“Both seem pretty lame to me,” said Steve.

“And that is supposed to be constructive criticism?” asked Jennifer. Her narrowing eyes looked like they could slice him in two.

“Well, her plot doesn’t work for me, okay?” said Steve. Then he wrinkled his nose and looked at Jennifer. “And what is that nasty stuff you’re wearing anyway? Don’t you know some people are allergic?”

Her perfume had never smelled stronger. Her fury seemed to intensify its aroma.

“Well, your writing doesn’t work for me either. And at least I bathe.” Jennifer crossed her legs and twirled her red-painted toes in his direction.

What is going on?
Oh, no…She doesn’t have a crush on him, does she?

Justin waved his arms like a referee calling for a time out. “Okay, its break time. Let’s lighten up or I’m going to have to put you two in the corner.”

“I think they should get a room.” Amanda crossed her arms in front of her chest. “That should redirect all that sexual energy. What is it with this classroom? It’s like the air in here’s an aphrodisiac or something.”

“Shut up, will you!” shouted Jennifer. Her pale face turned a mottled fuchsia and she looked on the verge of tears. I had to act fast before mascara rivers ran down her face.

“Hey, let’s go outside and get some air.” I grasped her arm, urging her from her seat.

We walked along the sidewalk outside the building, our path shaded by rows of eucalyptus trees. “Jennifer, what’s the matter?”

“I hate that guy, that’s all.” She crossed her arms over her bountiful chest and pouted.

“Why? Did he say something to you earlier?”

“He sent me an email asking me if I wanted to get a cup of coffee after class. I barely know him so, of course, I told him no.”

“No wonder he’s all bent out of shape—he’s got the hots for you and you rejected him. I think he’s kind of cute, even though he does always hate my writing. What’s your issue with him?”

“Oh, Marissa, I’m so confused. The weird thing is, I like him so much that, well, I hate him. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve dated lots of guys. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

It’s good to know I’m not the only woman who’s experienced relationship-related insanity.
“Normally, I would have said you’re nuts, although I’ve recently determined this is some kind of head-over-heels phenomena.”

“Yeah, you were a rage case for a while there. So what should I do?”

“I think when you get back to class, you should tell him you’d like to go out for that cup of coffee after all.”

Her usually smooth brow remained creased. She pulled a small mirror and tube of lipstick from her purse, flipped open the mirror and applied a fresh layer of lipstick. After admiring her reflection, she closed the mirror, dropped the items back in her purse and gazed at me. “But what if he says I had my chance and embarrasses me in front of everyone?”