Right from the Gecko (29 page)

I tried to convince myself that Nick was right, meanwhile concentrating on the view. But even though it was spectacular, I wasn't doing a very good job of appreciating it, much less having fun.

I was relieved when we got off the road for our third stop, the Keanae Arboretum, where we took another short hike. Strolling beneath the dense green canopy was refreshing, but I was glad when Betty and Winston apologetically explained that they'd done enough hiking for one day. Frankly, I'd had enough hiking myself, and my right ankle was starting to hurt. But I didn't want to be a spoilsport.

In fact, everyone's energy was starting to lag. After a quick stop at the Keanae Overlook to ooh and ah and take a few photos, we decided to drive straight through to Waianapanapa State Park, which was right before Hana. I was actually feeling pretty mellow by the time we got into the car.

At least until I glanced at the side-view mirror and saw that the same white vehicle was still behind us.

I opened my mouth to ask Nick again what he thought. But I snapped it shut, realizing there was no point in bringing it up a second time. Instead, I joined Betty in singing “Bali Hai” from the musical
South Pacific,
pretending to enjoy myself even as I kept my eyes fixed on the mirror.

We had just passed Mile Marker 32 when I spotted a sign that read
WAIANAPANAPA STATE PARK
.

“Everybody up for another stop?” Nick asked, sounding as if he was getting his enthusiasm back.

“This is where that famous cave is, isn't it?” Betty asked excitedly, leaning forward in her seat to get a better look as Nick slowed down to turn into the parking lot.

“That's right,” he replied. “Remember the cool legend I told you, about the princess hiding in the cave to get away from her jealous husband…?”

I was only half-listening. I was too busy watching in the mirror as the white van followed us into the parking lot. As it did, I finally got a good look at the driver.

My mouth went dry as I saw that it was Bryce Bolt, the man I was convinced had murdered Marnie Burton.

Chapter
18

N
ick,” I said uneasily, keeping my voice low in the hopes that Betty and Winston wouldn't hear me, “I don't think we should stop here.”

“Why not?” he asked. I got the feeling he was too distracted by the sudden traffic jam to listen very closely.

“Because you know that car I thought was following us?” I replied, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt. “I was ri—”

The sudden bleating of a horn sent me jumping out of my skin. Wrenching my head around, I saw that the offender was a gigantic tour bus lumbering into the parking lot, right behind the white van.

“We'd better hurry,” Betty called gaily from the backseat. “This place is about to be inundated with tourists.”

Ordinarily, I would have thought the disdainful way she referred to “tourists” was cute, given the fact that she was practically the poster girl for the tourism industry. However, at the moment I was much more worried about the man in the car behind us. A man who had obviously followed me all the way out here to the remote edges of Maui.

“Nick,” I tried again as he pulled into a parking space, speaking softly so Betty and Winston wouldn't hear me, “we can't stay here. We might be in danger.”

Apparently I spoke so softly that even he didn't hear me. He and my other two traveling companions had already opened their car doors and were climbing out, chattering away happily about the sightseeing opportunities that lay ahead of them.

Great, I thought miserably. Now not only does Bryce know Nick and I are here; he got a good look at our two friends. Our two elderly, vulnerable friends.

“Bad timing,” Winston muttered. “Let's see if we can make it into the cave before all these visitors get off their bus.”

No sooner had he said the words then dozens of tourists began oozing out of their vehicle, swarming the parking lot like ants at a picnic. As I anxiously surveyed the crowd, I realized they were primarily senior citizens, many of them using canes or walkers to get around.

“You're right, dear,” Betty observed. “It looks like we'll have plenty of company. Oh, well, this is still a beautiful spot. Just look at that black sand beach! I can't wait to take some pictures.”

“I'd like to check out the cave first,” Nick said, glancing over in that direction with interest. “How about you, Jess?”

“Uh, maybe later,” I told him. “Why don't we follow Betty's suggestion and take a walk along the beach first?”

And
stay
on that beautiful black sand beach, I thought—in fact, let's keep as far away from the cave as possible. Especially since it looked as if most of these tourists weren't about to go inside to wade in the cold, brackish waters that flowed into the volcanic caves, and the last thing I wanted was to find myself alone in nature's version of a dark alley. We were much better off remaining completely in view, with as many people around us as possible.

Besides, I desperately wanted to get Nick alone for a minute so I could explain that the four of us needed to get out of there
fast.
But Betty had taken Nick's arm and was chattering away happily, admiring the fine sand and the deep blue-green ocean and the clear blue sky.

I looked around frantically, trying to see where Bryce had gone. I finally spotted the van, parked close to the exit. It was empty.

The getaway car, I thought grimly, realizing that Bryce had done more than follow me here. He had also planned a strategy.

And then I saw him slip into the cave.

“Nick,” I said, trying to sound calm even though my stomach was doing flip-flops, “there's something I want to show you.” My mind raced as I tried to come up with a convincing reason. “It's, uh, a really cool plant I saw over there.”

My ploy worked. “Sure, Jess.”

“Nick, we have to leave—now!” I hissed the moment Betty and Winston were out of earshot. “Bryce Bolt followed us.”

He stared at me in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I'm serious. I saw him go into the cave just now. If he really is doing FloraTech's dirty work, all four of us could be in danger.”

“In that case,” Nick said evenly, “let's find Betty and Winston and get out of here.”

Desperately I searched the crowd of wandering tourists, trying to pick out the bright pink fabric of Betty's sundress. It turned out she wasn't the only traveler with a taste for loud clothing. I latched on to four or five different people I thought might be her, two of whom turned out to be men.

When I finally spotted her, I let out a cry.

“Nick, she's going into the cave!” I exclaimed. “And Winston is with her!”

He nodded. “Okay. I'll go grab them so we can get out of here.”

“No!” I insisted. “I'll go.”

He glanced at me quizzically. “But—”

“Look, I'm the one who got us all into this mess. I feel responsible.”

“Then why don't we both go?”

“It makes more sense for you to call the police,” I told him. “And get the car!”

“Jessie—”

I began jogging toward the cave, not wanting to waste any more time discussing our strategy. As I drew near, I saw that I'd been right in my assumption that there weren't a lot of sightseers going inside today. In fact, there was no one around as I stood at the edge, my voice cracking as I called, “Betty? Winston?”

Nothing. At least, nothing aside from the sound of my own voice bouncing off the hard black walls of the volcanic rock formations arching over the ocean.

I had no choice but to go inside.

Cautiously, I stepped into the shadowy cave, creeping along the edge and hoping I was managing to keep out of sight. I was struck by the sudden change of atmosphere. There was a dramatic difference between its cool, dimly lit interior and the warm, inviting sun I'd just left behind. I also discovered I could barely see in the darkness.

I blinked hard a few times. Gradually, my eyes adjusted well enough for me to see. What I saw froze the blood in my veins.

Betty and Winston cowered at the opposite end of the cave, their eyes bright with terror.

Right behind them stood Bryce Bolt. Even in the dim light, I could see he had a gun in his hand.

Oh, my God, I thought, quickly stepping backward in an attempt at disappearing into one of the cave's craggy alcoves. My heart was pounding so loudly I suspected Bryce could hear it even from where he stood.

At least he can't see me, I thought.

But my relief lasted only a moment. Almost immediately, I remembered Nick saying that, according to the legend, when the wife of the jealous chief fled to this very cave, she also tried to hide by standing close to the irregular cave wall, but he spotted her reflection in the water.

Slowly, I lowered my eyes. And saw my reflection in the clear, smooth water below.

The unmistakable feeling of defeat crept over me. He knew I was in here. And even though he was holding Betty and Winston at gunpoint, they were only his hostages. It was me he wanted.

Even before I'd made a conscious decision about what to do, I leaped out of my ineffective hiding place.

“Let them go, Bryce!” I cried. “It's me you want, not them. They have no idea what's going on!”

“But you do,” he returned nastily. “You've got it all figured out, haven't you?”

“Just let them walk right out of here,” I told him. I was astonished by how calm I sounded. “If you do, I'll do whatever you want. I'll go with you right now, I'll leave the island—whatever you say. Just put that gun away.”

I saw the glint of metal in his hand as he moved, positioning it to fire. Only this time, it was pointed directly at me.

I knew I had to do something—anything. I couldn't just stand there, waiting for him to shoot me.

Without thinking, I plunged into the water. As I hit the surface, I heard the loud splash, its sound amplified by the hard walls of the cave. I hoped the noise would bring people running. At the very least, I hoped my unexpected action would buy me some time.

I stayed under as long as I could, wanting to remain as difficult a target as possible. But I couldn't keep myself submerged forever. Finally, desperately in need of air, I popped my head above the surface. My eyes were wide as I blinked away the salty water, trying to see if my surprise move had made any difference.

It had. Bryce had stepped closer to the water's edge, temporarily releasing Betty and Winston. I saw them scurrying as far away from him as they could. His attention was now focused on me. So was his gun.

Time seemed to stop as I heard a click.

“No!” I cried, then instinctively dropped down beneath the water's surface.

As I did, the sound of a gunshot exploded in my ears.

For the next few seconds, I heard nothing but the gurgling noises of the water bubbling around my ears. Even though I didn't feel any pain, I assumed I had been shot. I also assumed these were my last moments on earth.

But I didn't want to spend them underwater. Some primitive urge propelled me upward, toward the air and the light and all those basic things that suddenly seemed so important.

As I burst through the water's surface, gasping for breath and struggling to see, I expected to see Bryce standing at the water's edge with his recently fired gun still pointed at me. As soon as I blinked a few times, I discovered that he was in front of me, all right. But I felt my eyes widen as I watched the gun slip from his hand, landing on the rocky ledge with a thump before it plummeted into the water. And then Bryce's entire body crumpled. He dropped to the ground and slid into the water.

Slowly, the pool of water inside the cave began turning red.

I was vaguely aware of screams and the chaos of people running, their footsteps falling hard against the rocky floor of the cave.

“What—?” I cried, still unable to figure out what had happened.

I wrenched my head around, looking for something, anything, that would explain what was going on.

It was then that I spotted Graham Warner. And saw the gun in his hand.

“Graham?” I cried. “What are you—?”

Three or four others, people I didn't recognize, emerged from behind him. Their sudden presence only added to my confusion.

“Pull his body out of there,” Graham commanded. He spoke in a gruff voice that I'd never heard before, using a tone I never would have thought a laid-back Hawaiian transplant like him would have been capable of producing.

“You—you
shot
him!” I cried.

“Thanks to you having the presence of mind to surprise him by jumping into the water,” he replied grimly. “Once he released those two people he was using as a shield, I was able to move in.”

He extended his arm downward, offering to help me out of the water. I did a much better job scrambling up the side by myself.

“But—but it's not as if you're a cop!” I cried, swatting at my wet clothes once I stood steadily on the ledge. My voice wavering uncertainly, I added, “Are you?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Graham laughed. “Let's just say things aren't always what they seem.”

Especially on Hawaii,
I thought, remembering Marnie's prophetic words.

“Jess?” I heard Nick cry as he came rushing into the cave. “What happened? I heard a gunshot! Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” I replied. “So are Betty and Winston. Thanks to Graham.”

“Graham?” Nick repeated, puzzled. “The creepy guy from the hotel?”

“See, that's what I meant about things not always being what they seem,” Graham replied with a wry smile. “I'm not the burned-out surfer dude I was pretending to be. I'm with the Drug Enforcement Agency. I've been working undercover, investigating FloraTech. We suspected they were using genetic engineering techniques to produce cocaine. We got involved in the investigation of Marnie Burton's murder because we figured they were behind it, although we weren't sure who was actually doing their dirty work for them. Since you came on the scene, Jessie, we've been keeping an eye on you. We thought you might find out something useful.”

“I did,” I told him breathlessly. “Graham, Bryce Bolt killed Marnie. He borrowed his mother's car that night to do it. But he didn't know that one of the earrings Marnie was wearing fell under the seat. When I found out that Bryce was Alice Feeley's son—and that she'd found the earring in her car—I knew it had to be him.”

“Makes sense,” Graham said, nodding. “We knew all about FloraTech paying him off to keep quiet. They paid off the newspaper's editor too. Richard Carrera.”

That explains the strange way Mr. Carrera reacted when I mentioned Marnie's tape, I thought, as well as his interest in learning what I knew about it.

“We thought it was probably either Carrera or Bolt who killed Marnie,” he continued, “since they were both on FloraTech's payroll. It made sense that the folks at FloraTech wouldn't have any qualms about throwing in a few extra assignments.”

“That probably included getting hold of Marnie's tape,” I mused. “The audiocassette that was supposed to contain Marnie's interview with her ‘secret source.' It must have been Bryce who broke into my hotel room, trying to destroy every piece of evidence he could get his hands on. In fact, it was probably him who paid the helicopter pilot to strand Nick and me in Waimea Canyon after I started poking around the properties FloraTech was buying.”

“And today,” Graham added, “he followed you all the way out here with the intention of getting rid of you, once and for all.”

“I survived, but poor Marnie didn't,” I said, shaking my head. “FloraTech tried to buy her silence too, but she didn't understand just how badly they wanted it. In fact, she blithely went ahead with her plans to expose them.”