Kona Waters: A Rick Waters Novel, page 16
Clay winked at Rick and nodded. Rick checked his Find My app.
“They are still hugging the coast. If they continue at the same course and speed they will be here in three days. Let’s check out the marina. See if we can find out any info. I have an idea,” said Rick.
He pointed at the gift basket left by the Airbnb host for them.
“Jules, I need you to put on your charm and find out what slip they are coming into if they are indeed coming here. There are two other marinas nearby, but Guayaquil Yacht Club is the nicest one, and Keifer is rich now.”
They drove down to the marina, and Jules carried the gift basket over to the Dock Master's office.
“Hola, soy Valentina. Mi cuñado, Keifer Kamua, llegará en yate en unos días. Me gustaría dejarle esta cesta de regalo. ¿Sabes en qué embarcadero atracará?”
“Hang on,” said the dockmaster.
“You speak English. Good.”
“Yes, I do.”
He typed into his computer and searched for Keifer’s name.
“They reserved slip 12A stern-to. Just leave it here and I can give it to them when they arrive.”
“It’s a surprise. If I give you my number, can you text me when they are close with an ETA? They don’t know we’re here. My sister will be so happy.”
“No problem,” said the dockmaster.
“Now make sure you don’t tell them. I wanna see the look on her face when they back into the marina and see me.”
Jules handed him a folded hundred-dollar bill. He smiled and put it in his shirt pocket.
“I promise. It’s our little secret.”
Jules gave him her number, and he entered it into his phone.
“Valentina, right?” asked the man.
“Yes, and your name?”
“I’m Jorge.”
"Well, thank you, Jorge. You’re doing me a solid,” said Jules.
Jules left with the gift basket and put it on the back seat of the G-Wagon.
“They reserved slip 12A. We can come back later after the office closes and scope out the spot.”
“Great job, Jules. We’re gonna nail that motherfucker.”
They drove back to the rental house, and when they arrived, Clay was floating on a blow-up unicorn in the pool.
“Cute,” said Rick.
“It was either this or that pink flamingo floaty. I guess you can use that one.”
“I actually like flamingos. Thank you very much,” replied Rick with a chuckle.
“We have a few days to chill. We may as well enjoy it, Rick,” said Jules.
They changed into their bathing suits, and Rick did a cannonball and splashed Clay, almost flipping him over. They spent the day lounging by the pool. None of them had ever been to Ecuador, so Jules wanted to do a little afternoon exploring of the city they were in and then go to dinner somewhere nice. Rick got a call from Carson just as he was about to apply more sunscreen.
“Rick, do you have a minute? We are building a case against Keifer, and so far, what we have is circumstantial. Also, it’s harder to prosecute without a body. The video of the tattoo on the back of his neck will help, but it’s not conclusive because we never saw his face.”
“What else do you need?” asked Rick.
“We need DNA from him that matches the DNA we found at the murder scene. That would link him to the crime scene. We have an address for him in Honolulu. Can one of your team members go there and try to collect a reliable DNA sample so we can confirm if it matches?” asked Carson.
“Possum is still on the Big Island. I’ll ask him. Either he or Malia will be able to do it,” replied Rick.
“Great. Something of his, like a toothbrush or a comb with hair in it, will be best.”
“Okay, as soon as I hang up, I’ll call Possum.”
“Alright, keep me posted.”
Rick ended the call and called Possum.
“Hey buddy, how are you feeling?”
“I feel great. Malia does too.”
“Would you be up for a B&E in Honolulu? We need a DNA sample from something that Keifer owns. Preferably a toothbrush or comb.”
“Hell yeah. Malia will go with me. Text me the address. We’ll hop on a Hawaiian Airlines inter-island flight today.”
“Okay, Possum. I’ll have Carson forward you the address. Stand by.”
Rick hung up and texted Carson to forward the address to Possum for Keifer. He replied right back.
Done!
Possum and Malia packed all their belongings into a single overnight carry-on bag and headed to the airport. The flight was on time, and they landed in Honolulu at 4:50 p.m. Possum ordered an Uber, and they rode downtown to Queen Emma Apartments, a high-rise in the city. When they arrived at his floor, Possum pulled out his lock-pick kit.
“Wait,” said Malia as she dug through her purse.
She took out a house key that was in her coin change bag and put it in the lock. The door opened.
“He is such a procrastinator. I knew he didn’t change the locks after we broke up like he said he did. He’s also a compulsive liar,” said Malia.
They carefully stepped inside. Possum wiped the door handle clean, closed the door behind them with his shoe, and put on latex gloves.
“Okay, we need to find something of his that will have DNA on it.”
“I have an idea,” said Malia.
She made her way to the bathroom.
“I knew it!” she said as she pointed at the vanity.
There was an Oral B electric toothbrush sitting on it. It was grimy and dirty, and the brush part was worn out. Above the mirror on the ledge was the original box it came in. Possum put the toothbrush in a plastic baggie and took the box down. Inside the box was the extra brush that came with it, and sitting right beside it was a filled-out warranty card with Keifer’s name and address on it.
“I told you he was a procrastinator. I’m pretty anal about filling out warranty cards, and I had him complete it the day I gave it to him as a gift. He swore he sent it in. He is still using the original brush, which was almost two years ago. Disgusting,” said Malia.
“Hehe, you said anal,” replied Possum in Beavis’ voice.
“What are you, twelve?”
“Sometimes,” said Possum. “But seriously, this is exactly what we need. Let’s get out of here.”
As they headed for the elevator, Possum called another Uber. He located the nearest FedEx to the airport, and they shipped both items to Carson overnight.
“Should we head back to the Big Island or hang here for a night?” asked Possum.
“I know it’s kinda silly, but in all the years I’ve lived in Hawaii, I’ve never been to Hilton Hawaiian Village. You know, where Don Ho performed his 1988 comeback concert,” said Malia.
“Tiny bubbles,” sang Possum.
“Don’t give up your day, job,” said Malia.
They asked the Uber driver, who was waiting for them, to take them to the dome where Don Ho once performed, only to find out it had been demolished. They made the best of it anyway. Hilton Hawaiian Village was a spectacular property. When they arrived, Possum tipped the Uber driver for waiting, and they strolled hand in hand under the beautiful palm trees, all lit up as the sun slowly descended on the water.
“This place is gorgeous,” said Malia.
“Almost as gorgeous as you. Not quite. Nothing’s that gorgeous,” added Possum.
“Let’s see if they have any rooms. I have thousands of Hilton points because Mr. Mahoe gave me a Hilton Honors American Express to handle the estate’s purchases,” said Malia. “With flattery like that, you’re gonna get lucky again!”
When they arrived at the front desk the only room left was the Ali'i Presidential Suite.
“We’ll take it,” said Malia.
When they got up to the room on the 32nd floor, they were blown away. It was a two-bedroom suite with a private parlor, dining area, wet bar, and balcony. They stepped out onto the balcony and gazed at the waves on the south shore with beautiful Diamond Head off to their left. Malia picked up a brochure on the wet bar and read aloud to Possum.
At Hilton Hawaiian Village guests are invited to immerse themselves in a vibrant array of relaxing and cultural pursuits that captured the essence of Hawaiian paradise, beginning with a leisurely stroll along the expansive Duke Kahanamoku Beach, where the soft golden sands meet the turquoise waves under the warm, descending sun, allowing visitors to rent beach chairs, umbrellas, or snorkel gear from the on-site Waikiki Beach Activities to dip into the calm waters teeming with colorful fish or simply lounge while watching surfers ride the gentle breakers; many then venture to the five-acre Duke Kahanamoku Lagoon, a serene saltwater haven perfect for stand-up paddleboarding yoga sessions that blended balance and mindfulness amid the gentle lapping of the ocean, or pedaling aquacycles in lazy circles while exotic birds flitted through the tropical gardens nearby, their calls mingling with the distant hum of the city.
“Or, we could just jump into bed,” said Possum.
“Let’s do both!” said Malia as she kicked off her shoes and dragged him to the bedroom.
Jules looked at TripAdvisor as Rick drove toward the Guayaquil city center.
“Rick, let’s take a walk down the Malecón 2000 and then go to Iguana Park.”
“Sounds good. Iguana do that,” said Rick with a laugh.
Clay made a fake ha-ha in the back seat. Rick parked the G-Wagon on the boardwalk, and they all strolled casually, taking in the sights. As they walked, Jules stopped and bought everyone Tepache—a fermented pineapple, low-alcohol drink served in a plastic bag with a straw. Since she and Rick had quit drinking, she wasn't worried about it because it was so low in alcohol, it was virtually non-alcoholic and oh-so-tasty.
When they arrived at Iguana Park, the big lizards were everywhere—on the ground, in the trees, and on benches. Little kids were feeding them, and their parents were taking pictures.
“Look at that monster, Rick!” exclaimed Jules.
She was pointing at a nearly five-foot-long, brownish-green iguana lying on a rock. Its tail was striped, and it was puffing its throat in and out.
“Damn, that’s a big boy!”
Rick got a text from Possum with a photo of Diamond Head, and beneath it, it said,
Mission complete, Mai-Tai time.
“Sweet, Possum already got the DNA from Keifer’s place. I think we have a rock-solid case against him now. He has no clue what he’s about to face when he arrives,” said Rick.
After playing with the iguanas, they went to Le Gourmet, a French-Ecuadorian fusion restaurant famous for its creative dishes like yucca eggs with aromatics or bluefin tuna ceviche tapas. During dinner, Jules asked the waiter if there was a good place for nightlife, and he told her the best spot in town was Diva Nicotina in Barrio Las Peñas.
“Can we go, Rick, please?” asked Jules as she fluttered her eyelashes.
Rick knew he couldn’t resist. Clay was exhausted and wanted to have a FaceTime call with his wife, so they dropped him off at the Airbnb, dressed to the nines, and headed to the venue.
Chapter
Fourteen
The oldest neighborhood in Guayaquil, known as Las Peñas, has been in existence for over 400 years. Its homes on the hill blended elements from colonial times with bohemian flair and modern restoration. Most buildings in that area were two or three stories tall, made of wood or stucco, and often decorated with pink, blue, and yellow hues matching their exteriors. Inside, the spaces were compact but offered cozy comfort through high ceilings, open floor plans, and exposed beams that aided ventilation in the tropical climate. The atmosphere felt nostalgic yet lively, as many buildings served as galleries, bars, and cafes that welcomed both tourists and locals.
They parked and walked over to the nightclub. The bouncer opened the red velvet stanchion and let them inside. The music was pumping.
“Rick, let’s dance,” said Jules.
“Oh, God, help me.”
There was a live band playing “AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long” on stage. They were quite good, and Rick was impressed with the lead singer's vocals. He had Brian Johnson's falsetto down perfectly. Rick did his best not to look like an idiot on the dance floor but failed miserably. He just wasn’t a good dancer. He didn’t like to dance but loved being near Jules, so he did the best he could. She kept him out for five straight songs, and he begged her to sit down. She finally relented. Jules got them two bottled waters from the bar, and she let Rick rest his feet, but not for long.
The band started playing “Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats, a popular radio dance song from the 80s. It gave Rick the perfect chance to make an even bigger fool of himself. He performed the moves he remembered from the video. Then the band broke into “Lady in Red,” and Rick got a reprieve. He pulled Jules tightly to him and kissed her as they slow danced. They stayed until just before closing time, and both agreed it was time to head back to the Airbnb. They walked through the cool night air under the stars. As they approached the G-Wagon, three young men jumped out from behind the Malecón’s cement wall.
“¡Dame todo tu dinero!” demanded the man holding a knife.
“Aquí están en inferioridad numérica, vete a casa antes de que te lastimen,” replied Jules.
The man got a funny look on his face and laughed.
“What did you tell him?” asked Rick.
“I told him he’s outnumbered and to go home before he gets hurt.”
Rick smirked. The man moved closer.
“Te lo advertí,” said Jules.
Rick tossed his keys high into the air, and when the man glanced up, Rick punched him as hard as he could in the throat. He dropped the knife and reached for his neck, trying to breathe. Jules delivered a roundhouse kick to the man at the end, hitting the side of his head. The man wobbled then fell. The man in the middle was in shock and just stood there, not knowing what to do. Rick lunged at him, and he turned and ran. The other two followed him as they ran across the street and down the beach out of view. Rick picked up the knife and admired it. It was a black switchblade.
“Damn, that’s a nice knife. It’s a Pro-Tech TR-3. It’s like a two-hundred-dollar knife. Navy Seals are issued these,” said Rick.
Rick folded it closed and stuck it in his pocket.
“Score!”
Jules laughed, and Rick picked up the keys and opened the G-Wagon for her to get in. They drove to the Airbnb. When they arrived, they could hear Clay snoring through the door of his bedroom. They were still sweaty from all the dancing, so they took showers. Jules went first and climbed into bed. While Rick was drying off, he heard her turn on the stereo and play the AC/DC song they had just heard when they first arrived at the nightclub. It wasn't loud enough to awaken Clay, but it would give them some privacy. When Rick walked into the bedroom, Jules was lying on the bed holding open the comforter to entice Rick to join her.
“You ready to shake me all night long?” she asked.
“Let there be rock!” exclaimed Rick as he climbed in beside her.
Rick woke up and checked the Find My app on his iPhone. Keifer was still hugging the coast and two days out. It was like watching an inchworm crawl across the floor toward a spider. Slow but inevitable.
“Good morning, baby. Wanna go fishing? There’s a boat that leaves for a half-day at noon. We can go down to the harbor, have lunch, and catch some tuna.”
“That sounds like fun,” she replied.
When they stepped out of the bedroom into the kitchen, Jules noticed Clay was already floating on his unicorn in the pool with a cup of coffee. Jules laughed, ran back into the bedroom to grab her phone, and snapped a photo of Clay to send to his wife. They had never met in person but had talked on the phone many times. She was a schoolteacher, and during her summer break, she taught English in Japan. She texted her the photo.
Clay is working hard!
Ha-ha, thanks Jules, I’m gonna frame that one.
You should. Or use it as blackmail. Lol
Even better!
“Rick, we need to get Amy over for a visit next time she has a day or two off.”
“You’re right, Jules. I’ll get her schedule from Clay.”
The air was already a warm 85 degrees by 9:15 a.m. at the pool. Being that close to the equator had its pros and cons. The breeze off the Pacific helped keep the humidity down.
“Clay, do you wanna go fishing with us? We’re doing a half-day out of the marina,” asked Rick.
“Rick, I appreciate the offer. No offense, but I need some downtime. I think I’ll hang out by the pool on my unicorn. Plus, I have a Zoom call at one o’clock for my yearly pilot metal assessment evaluation. They gotta make sure I’m not cray-cray, so I can renew my license. If you want, I can prep a salad and grab some of that roasted corn from the little cart on the corner for dinner if y’all catch some fish. Just text me a heads-up on the ETA,” replied Clay.
“Corn and salad would rock. I hope we catch some tuna. If they see the picture Jules took of you on that floating unicorn, they’ll yank your license. Ha-ha.”
“What?! She took a picture of me?! Dammit!”
“Yeah, she already sent it to Amy.”
“Crap! I’ll never hear the end of it,” said Clay.
“I think she thought it was funny. We need to get Amy to Destin soon.”
“Yeah, she is so busy. We’ll make the time.”
Jules stepped outside onto the deck with two cups of coffee. She handed one to Rick and sat by the pool. Clay threatened to splash her for taking that picture. She showed it to him, and he liked the way he looked in it.
“That’s not too bad. Shows my good side,” said Clay.
They all relaxed by the pool until about 11:30. Then Rick and Jules changed into proper fishing gear, which was basically beer can shorts and Academy vented shirts. They loaded a small cooler with drinks and sandwiches and headed down to the marina. The boat Rick booked was called Two Gooses. It was an odd name. Then he saw the two outboards and one engine cover, each painted with a Canadian goose above the 400 HP emblem. The captain met them on the dock.
