Linda Gerber - Death by Bikini (Death By...)

SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK

We had come out onto the sand of the beach. Hisako daintily kicked off her shoes. Shall we walk near the water?

Sure, why not? The longer I stayed with Hisako, the less time I had to spend behind the desk. We strolled barefoot along the firm sand where waves lapped the shore, detouring inland when we came across one of the rock piers. Just being that close to the ocean soothed my agitation.

Until Hisako stopped dead in her tracks. She pointed to the shoreline ahead. What is that?

I shielded my eyes and squinted. Something large had washed up on shore. A log maybe.

No, it was a person.

Panic washed over me. I stood paralyzed for a second before my lifeguard training kicked in. I sprinted toward the body. As I drew closer, I could tell it was a woman. Her hair lay tangled about her head like seaweed, matted with sand. Her pale skin was mottled, and her lips were an odd color of blue.

My heart sank right down to my stomach. The ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet. I could hardly breathe. I dropped to my knees beside her. The ties of her halter-top bikini were tangled tight about her neck. My hands trembled as I tried to loosen them.

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Acknowledgments

Im deeply indebted to all the people who have had a hand in bringing this book to life.

SLEUTH / SPEAK
Published by the Penguin Group
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This Sleuth edition published by Speak, an imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2008

Copyright Linda Gerber, 2008

All rights reserved
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Gerber, Linda C.
Death by bikini / by Linda Gerber.
p. cm.
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Aphra Behn Connolly investigates why her father let an unknown
family stay at their exclusive tropical island resort, who strangled a famous rock stars girlfriend
with her own bikini top, and what a smoldering teenaged guest is hiding.

eISBN : 978-1-436-23181-7

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any
responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

For Aaron. I love you.

PROLOGUE

Hes coming.

I climb harder, but rain weighs down my clothes and stings my eyes. The downpour slicks decomposing leaves beneath my feet so that I slip and stumble up the hill. My thighs burn. My chest is hot and tight. I want to stop and catch my breath, but his footsteps crash steadily through the undergrowth below me.

Close. So close.

Inches from my head, a banana leaf jumps and rips apart. Half a breath later, a bullet splinters the palm trunk beside me. I drop to the ground, the sound of my scream caught in my throat. I swear I can feel the vibration of his footsteps coming nearer.

If only I could rewind the past three days, Id do everything different. I would tell Seth Im sorry. I would protect Bianca. I would do whatever it took to see my mom one last time before I die.

CHAPTER 1

Until last week, my most pressing concern had been getting ready to visit my friend Cami back home South Carolina. On Friday, all of that changed. Not the part about going to see Cami; I still planned to do that. Lets just say I picked up a few more concerns along the way.

As days go, Friday had been normal... the last normal day I can remember. But with Friday evening came a string of events that, while they may have seemed unremarkable at the time, changed my quiet island life forever.

It all started when my dad had asked me to meet a new guest at the helipad. Nothing unusual about that although we dont get many of them in the off-season. Guests, I mean. The late July heat can be brutal on the island, and those who know usually wait until the trade winds return before they flock back to the resort. Still, a new arrival here and there was to be expected.

I stood sweltering in my uniform, even as the sun hung low on the horizon, waiting for her on the hilltop as the helicopter set down.

Frankour pilotsaluted as he brought the landing skids down inside the painted circle. I sighed with relief at the breeze created by the wash of the rotors and waved back at him. Because of our remote location, the only way to and from the resort is by helicopter, so Frank is like our lifeline to the city. He delivers everything mail, supplies, and guests.

I tried to smooth my hair as the rotors wound to a stop. Frank climbed from the cockpit. Hey, darlin! You doin the honors tonight, eh?

You got it. Its not like he had to ask; the new guest was a lady from Japan, and as Frank knew, my Japanese was much better than my dads. In fact, I served as the liaison for most of our international guestsowing to the fact that I can speak more than five languages, whereas my dad is fluent only in French. Ill admit that most of what I know is pretty basic, but its enough to check someone in.

Frank helped the lady from his helicopter and retrieved her suitcases from the cargo hatch while she stood, predictably, admiring the view. Its the first thing any new arrival does.

The helicopter pad rests atop a hill overlooking the property, and, I have to admit, our resort makes a very good first impression. It sits on a remote stretch of shoreline sandwiched between jagged black mountains draped in rain-forest green and a cerulean ocean that stretches to an impossibly wide horizon. I remember the first time I saw it, the beauty of it made me want to cry. Or maybe that was because my mom wasnt there to share it with me.

I stiffened and raised my chin. Four years and the confusion about my moms decision still clung to me like a sour smell. I wasnt going to let it ruin another otherwise beautiful evening.

Frank and the lady approached the cart, and I bowed in greeting. Konbanwa. Yokoso.