Dead Girl Beach (11 page)

Seabury took a booth opposite the wrap-around bar inside the Riser Room. The place wasn't busy. Bar girls had scurried off into the changing room at the back of the bar to get ready for the crowds coming in later on for the floorshow. Bennie Zee saw him come in and walked over to meet him.

“Seabury.” He beamed. ” You want a girl? I can get you one. Anyone you want.”

Seabury shook his head.

“Well, maybe a drink.” Bennie scooted into the booth next to him.

“I'm looking for Lawan Songsiri,” Seabury said. “She around?”

Bennie made a funny face. “That little bitch. She quit on me, today. Her and her sister. ” He looked at Seabury. “I will get you someone else.”

“No. Not now, Bennie.”

Bennie froze at the tone of his voice and backed away from Seabury. A bar girl scooted by on her way back to the dressing room. Bennie waved a hand and caught her attention.

“Hey, Ploy. Get me a whiskey…and a Corona for Seabury.”

Ploy came back a few minutes later with the drinks then left. Bennie turned on the charm and the fake smile. “How've you been?” he asked. “Haven't seen you around for a few days.”

Seabury recognized the insincerity in his tone. The air was hot and humid. Bennie's face flushed, and his skin looked damp and oily. Seabury saw beads of sweat form on his brow beneath the shock of silver hair. Droplets of sweat ran down the sides of his small, flat nose.

“Better turn up the air conditioner, Bennie. Don't be so friggin' cheap.”

Bennie's hand closed to a fist under the table. “What's the matter, Hawaiian Boy? Someone steal your last dollar? I don't appreciate the tone I'm hearing.”

“I want to know about Lawan.”

“What about her.”

“Why did she quit. A girl works for you—what?—a year, year and a half? Then, she quits? There has to be some reason.”

“Dunno.” Bennie shook his head. “She calls the bar and says she's not coming in. Look. I dunno why.” He paused. “Why? What's it to you, anyway?” His voice took on a sharp edge.

“I think you do, Bennie. See, the way I figure it, you need a Mama San working in here—someone like an older woman to supervise the girls. That way, they do the job professionally but don't have to worry about someone like you going off on them.”

Bennie stood up. When Seabury grabbed his arm, Bennie swung on him. His small fist grazed the side of Seabury's jaw, just enough to annoy him, and he slammed Bennie back down in the seat.

“Don't ever try that, again,” Seabury warned him. Bennie scrambled back further into the cushions of the booth. A startled look crossed his face. “You're a slimy low-life, Bennie. Lawan quits on you. Suma doesn't show up here, tonight. I figure it's because the working environment's no good.”

“I don't need this,” Bennie said.

“Where's Lawan?'

“I told you, I don't know.” He went to get up, again.

Seabury grabbed the back of Bennie's head and pulled his face up close to his. He knew about Bennie's deadly karate hand, but he wasn't worried. In the semi-darkness hanging over the bar, their eyes locked together. Bennie tried to look the other way, but Seabury pulled him closer, staring at him with contempt and scorn.

“I ever hear of you treating any of these girls' bad again, I'll come back. I promise you, it'll turn ugly in a hurry.”

Bennie wrenched free and scooted around to the other side of the booth, but Seabury's long arm reached out and grabbed the back of his head, again. Fingers twisted up a tuft of silver hair. Bennie tried to wrench free, but Seabury slammed him face-first down on the table, shattering his nose and chipping a few teeth. Bennie howled, and blood splattered everywhere.

The bar came alive as the sound of feet moved toward them. A few girls stood by the table, hands over their mouths, shocked, horrified, and glittering in a halo of sequined minis.

Seabury tossed a few, crumpled notes on the table and went back outside. He crossed over to the liquor stall. When he arrived, two women sat on the chairs waiting for him. One was Lawan. The other woman, he wished he didn't know.

* * * *

Seabury waited.

“I need to explain,” Lawan said, her face turning red.

Seabury's eyes moved onto the woman. “You must be Tara Bennett.” He extended his hand.

Surprised, Tara Bennett took his hand and shook it. “How do you know me?”

“I have my sources,” Seabury said, smiling. “You don't live here on the island. So, you're here on other business.”

The woman raised her tall, willowy body up in the chair. Her skin was tan with golden undertones, and she wore her straight, black hair very long.

“Very good,” she said to Seabury and glanced across at Lawan, as if giving her approval. Then, she turned back to face him. “I'm a criminal profiler,” she said, “on loan from the Taiwan Police Department in Taipei. I was assigned to the Bangkok Police Department to work up a profile on a killer they were having trouble identifying. I had to be sure that the killer was a woman, because the crimes were so compelling. The profile I worked up shows a detailed picture of the alleged killer, Greta Langer. We believe she killed her secretary and perhaps three other people in Bangkok. So, nothing about her surprises me, anymore. She's as cold as ice and as cruel and heartless as they come. She needs to be taken off the streets as soon as possible…which brings me to another point.”

She paused before continuing. “You're in danger. If you're thinking about pursuing Greta Langer, my advice is…
don't
. I know her. She's ruthless, cunning, and very smart. She already knows Suma isn't Lawan, but it doesn't matter to her. She already has her next murder victim and the one after that singled out.” She looked at Seabury. “You, Sam. You're who she'll target next. After that article came out about you in the
Koh Phangan Gazette
, it no doubt enraged her. She wants you killed. She's been planning it for a long time.”

Tara whispered something to Lawan. Lawan nodded her head and then stood up next to Seabury. A boisterous crowd of revelers moved past them, hooting and hollering, their voices cracking back into the darkness. Seabury glanced away then back, again.

“Okay, listen,” he said. “I've made a mistake. I thought Suma might have just wandered off down here. Like someone would if they're bipolar.” Lawan went to say something, but Seabury raised a hand, and she remained quiet. “I was wrong. Suma's up at the lagoon with Greta Langer. I've got to hurry. I can't waste time.” He looked at Lawan. “You and Tara go back to your condo. I'll meet you there later.”

Lawan fished in her purse, came out with keys to her condo, and handed them to Tara. Before Seabury could protest, she said, “I'm going with you.”

“Come on, Lawan. This isn't a weekend outing. You need to stay here with Tara.”

Lawan shook her head. “I'm going. We're wasting time arguing.”

Tara stared at them in disbelief. “You're not making sense, either of you. You're dealing with a sick, sadistic sociopath. Putting your lives in danger is…” she exhaled a heavy sigh, “…absolutely crazy.”

“I'm willing to take the risk,” Seabury said.

“Why not let the police handle it?” She reached inside her purse for her cell phone. “Here, let me call them.”

“Not now.” Seabury's hand flew up, waving her off. “Give me an hour. Then, call them.”

Tara stood up. “I hope you know what you're doing.” She stared up at Seabury. “She's sick. She's dangerous…I'm telling you. Don't do it. Don't go up there.” Seabury said nothing. “Seabury.” Tara drew out his name in a long, painful sigh. “It's suicide going up there…you and Lawan.” She looked at Lawan and shook her head. “Oh, boy. I see I'm being overruled here.” Tara shrugged and shook her head. “Okay, if you insist on going…please, be careful. I'll call the police and get them up there.”

Lawan and Seabury hurried up the beach.

“What happen in there?” Lawan asked.

Seabury shouldered and weaved his way through the crowd. “The Riser Room?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Not much,” Seabury said.

“Well?” Lawan waited.

“I think Bennie's business plan suddenly changed. He's going to hire a new Mama San to run the place.”

A puzzled look, peppered by a brisk smile, crossed Lawan's face. “You didn't…”

“Not
too
much,” Seabury said as they hurried along. “Bennie will always be a low-life pimping out his girls. Any way you look at it, he's not going to change.” A full moon rose higher into the sky. In the distance, the dark, silhouette shape of a huge cliff dropped off sharply into the eastern sea. Seabury pointed up ahead. “We have to go around the edge of the peninsula, again. Are you up for it? Remember the last time…”

“Last time, I was scared,” Lawan said, cutting in. “A lot is at stake, now. So, yes. I'm up for it.”

“Okay. There's that boat shack next to the pier. We'll rent an outboard and head for the lagoon.”

“How do you know Suma's there? Greta might be fooling all of us. She could have gone anywhere on the island with Suma. Are you sure this time?” She paused, worried. “We can't be making mistakes…” She looked straight at him. “I mean, we just can't.”

“She's there. Please, trust me.”

Seabury's eyes searched the distance. There wasn't much time. He had to hurry and stop a killing before it took place. If he failed, Suma would become just another murder statistic, and Greta would continue her killing spree. They raced toward the boat shack at the other end of the beach.

Greta checked her watch. “It's time,” she said to Suma and shoved the 9 millimeter Beretta into the waistband of her denim shorts.

“Why the gun?” Suma asked, startled by the sight of it.

“Why not?” Greta snapped. “We're taking a little walk.” Greta's head turned to the side, and a sinister smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Now?” Suma looked at her, amazed. “It's after ten o'clock.”

“I know what time it is. I want to show you something down in the boat.”

Suma tried to think quickly. “What about Parry?”

“What about him?”

“He's been gone a long time. Shouldn't we…?”

“Probably fell asleep somewhere down on Sunrise Beach. It wouldn't surprise me if he found some young thing down there. Everyone knows how he is.”

The plumed leaf of a brilliant blaze shot up over the beach, matching the brilliance of the moonlit sea down below on the lagoon. Greta took Suma's arm and pulled her down the beach and toward the outboard.

The boat was tied to the naked, sawn-off limb of a tamarind tree. Here, the beach curved into a steep wall of black, volcanic rock. It shot up high off the beach, covered by a thick shroud of jungle foliage. Under the wide grin of a full moon, the place looked dark and foreboding.

Greta splashed in with her bare feet and cutoffs, her small breasts pressed up stiffly against her spandex halter, and she untied the boat. Suma—consumed by fear and stuck in the midst of a robotic stupor—made no attempt to escape. She was terrified and, like an obedient child, went along with whatever Greta wanted.

On the water, the boat swung out from shore, turned back, and powered out into the small, circular lagoon. Greta was midpoint between the beach and the dark, jagged edge of the reef further out when she suddenly cut the engine. Greta glanced over her right shoulder and pointed out across the lagoon.

“See them? This is what I wanted to show you. Nice…huh?”

Further out, below the surface of the water, the black, undulating shapes of feeding fish tossed up streaks of silver. The water hissed and boiled over. Thousands of needlefish shot up off the bottom of the lagoon, feasting on a diet of plankton and crustaceans.

Now, as waves splashed against the side of the boat, it began to rock back and forth, pitched up and down.

“You're not scared, are you?” Greta asked Suma, “If you are—”

“No, I'm fine.” Suma said and then realized she'd cut the woman off. She put on a brave face, but looked scared as Greta's cold, blue eyes cast a disapproving look. Nervous, she lowered her eyes and stared down at the water.

“I'm scared…maybe just a little.” She forced a tiny laugh to mollify the woman. “I'm like most Thai people—I live near the water, but I can't swim.”

Greta smiled. Ridges of bone jutted out from beneath her sun-damaged skin. “You worry too much,” she said. “You and Parry. Maybe, you two should've gotten married.”

“And have a big, Texas family.” Suma couldn't resist the little dig, knowing how much Greta regretted not having children.

Ignoring her, Greta started the outboard, swung the boat around, and found a spot where the water was calm. She cut the engine again and stretched her lank body down length-wise on the seat, relaxing. As she stretched out, she felt the Beretta's cold barrel pressed against the small of her back. The gun. She would use the gun on Seabury.

* * * *

The longer Suma watched the fish, the more suspicious she became. Something was wrong. Something wasn't right. She listened. In her mind, the warrior's voice sprang out at her.
Get away. Get away from her, now! Cold, blue eyes… cold, blue eyes…eyes of a devil with a tortured soul.

She sorted out the words
tortured soul
. She understood clearly the danger in those words. Her heart started hammering. Frightened, she stared across at Greta. Greta, with the devil eyes, was staring back at her. A wave of fear crossed Suma's face as she fidgeted in her seat.

“Why'd you bring me out here?”

Greta said nothing.

“I'm tired…sleepy, now. Let's go back and sit around the fire…maybe go to sleep a while.”

Turning back, Greta reached down for something under the seat. She came up with a high-powered Pelican lantern and a heavy, winter coat.

As Suma's mouth flung open in shock, Greta put on the coat and switched on the lantern. The moment the lantern came on, Suma realized the danger she was in. She might even die.

Shut the light off!
the warrior's voice shouted.
Bright light, Dark Death. All around. Everywhere, now.

“Shut the light off,” Suma yelled.

Greta's mouth twisted into a sinister smile. A temporary paralysis seized Suma's small, lithe body. In horror, she stared at the reef, then at the lantern, then at the woman waving the light back and forth across the water.

 “Turn off the light…now…now!” she screamed, again. Suma panicked. She knew about the needlefish. Left alone to feed near the reef in their natural habitat, the fish were harmless, but turn on a light and shine it across the water—as Greta was doing now— and the silvery blue, twelve-inch or so fish became lethal weapons.

Terrified, Suma lunged for the light, but Greta's left arm became a ferocious hook that snared her in its grasp. She pulled her quickly into a headlock then shattered her nose with a fist the size of a large stone.
Thwack!
The loud, sickening sound tore back into the night. Blood splattered across her face, and Suma sank down into the boat, unconscious. As she'd done with Dao Suttikul, Greta lashed Suma to the front seat of the boat and set out the lantern.

Crouching low and no longer worried about the goggles, she'd let the boat's aluminum cocoon protect her. Greta dove to the bottom of the boat. The needlefish streaked across the blackness of the lagoon, toward the light. A cloud of arrows sailed over the top of the boat.

Suma died a horrible death.