Dark Vengeance Kristi Belcamino (read me a book .txt) 📖

My hearing was slowly coming back. Instead of staring at the people’s mouths moving without hearing anything, I heard the sound of a helicopter. I looked up, and the military helicopter was above us. It was shining a spotlight down on X’s body, and then the light swept the entire main street, eventually stopping on me. I squinted up at the bright light shielding my eyes with my hand. The light turned off.

A few seconds later, the helicopter had landed in the middle of the street.

I watched as men in black carrying guns jumped out of the door of the copter. For a second, I wondered if I should run and hide. Then I saw a small American flag on the tail of the copter.

It was over.

29

The sun had just risen above the jungle to the west when I grabbed my phone and dialed. Makeda had just left. About an hour ago, she’d showed up and handed me Dylan.

I’d buried my face in his fur and practically wept. I think I was just exhausted. When the islanders brought me water, I fought back tears. When they cleaned my face and hair, I fought back tears. When a woman led me into a back room and let me take a shower and handed me a fresh set of clothes, I fought back tears.

And now, as I dialed Ryder, I vowed not to cry.

As soon as he picked up, I blurted out the words.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds. I didn’t know why, but I needed to hear his voice. Thanking him was just an excuse. When he did speak, he didn’t acknowledge the thank-you. He acted like sending in an army of CIA agents and Indonesian cops to a small island without proof of a crime was something he did every day. He must be more connected than I even realized. That gave me something to think about. Mainly, was he everything he seemed. The thought made me uneasy.

“Looks like the FBI reward is yours,” Ryder said.

Now I was really suspicious. How did he already know what went down? X’s body was still on the ground—not even covered by a sheet.

“I thought I was giving you the dirt, but someone beat me to it. They also give you a blow-by-blow account of me going after X?” I looked around the crowd.

About ten guys in bullet-proof vests and black military pants stood in a cluster by the front door of the market. A few were smoking. Others were eating food they’d just bought, completely oblivious to X’s body a few feet away. While it probably didn’t smell yet, it wasn’t an appetizing sight with half his brains splayed on the ground. At least it wasn’t on me, anymore.

Another half dozen guys who looked like plain clothes detectives stood in a semi-circle around X’s body. Every once in a while, a few of them would look my way. They’d told me to wait here while they questioned witnesses.

Two other men had been calling the islanders into a small building one after the other, questioning them.

It made me squirm a little. With that many witnesses, the stories would be all over the place. I only hoped that most realized what they saw me do was self-defense.

Ryder ignored my sarcasm. “The reward money is nothing to sneeze at,” he said. “Some of X’s victims in the U.S. were from prominent families with Rockefeller type money. They really, really wanted him found. Dead or alive.”

“Jesus. A reward? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” I shook my head. A reward for killing someone? The world had gone crazy.

Ryder chuckled, that low laugh I liked so much. It always made me smile. Damn him. Even hearing his voice over the phone did something to me.

“Better figure it out. The money is yours.”

“Since you know so much, did they get the Sultan?”

Again, his knowledge was creepy because he didn’t ask me who that was. He simply said, “No, he got away. Simply disappeared, they said. Really fucking creepy.”

“Yeah, that’s his m.o. all right, ‘really fucking creepy.’”

Just then a group of police officers started coming toward me. Dylan whined, but I patted his head.

“Gotta go. Investigators are heading over here to question me. I’ll call you if I need you to bail me out. Do they even have bail over here?”

“That’s all I’m good for?” he said.

I hung up without answering.

He was good for a lot more, but not over the phone.

30

“Ms. Santella?” one of the men said. “May we speak to you now?”

He gestured toward the small shop where he’d been interviewing people all morning.

“My dog is coming, too.” It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t letting Dylan out of my sight. Not that I had a choice. He was sticking to me, sitting on my foot when I stood still to make sure I didn’t go anywhere without him knowing.

I followed him toward the small shop.

I knew I should ask for a lawyer first, but I couldn’t deny what I’d done. I’d killed him. In front of a crowd. There was no getting around it. The entire street had seen it take place. Hell, half of the island had seen it.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the shop, blinking at the suddenly bright light. The CIA agent escorted me and Dylan back outside. The dog was pressed up against my thigh as if he were afraid I’d leave him. Poor guy.

“Where do you want that reward money sent? You sticking around here?”

I shook my head. “No, I still have to find my daughter.”

As I said the words, a feeling of hopelessness came over me. There was no way I’d find Rose unless she wanted me to. The kid was too damn clever.

Some of the surfers and Asahi were sitting at a picnic table to the side of the market, eating and smoking. When I saw them, I smiled.

“That woman over there? Makeda? And