Page 19 of No Time Off (Lexi Carmichael Mystery #15)

NINETEEN

Lexi

R angi led us away from the bungalow, avoiding the main resort building. We walked as nonchalantly as possible, each of us carrying a laptop bag and Slash holding the stuffed duffel as well. We didn’t want to run or draw attention to ourselves in any way, so a stroll it was, even as two other couples ran past us looking worried.

It felt like this peaceful, beautiful island was now shrouded with danger.

“Stay calm,” Rangi urged us. “We only have one hundred police officers total for all the islands. Even with Chinese help, most of them are surely guarding the airport and the news media at the moment. The rest are scattered, looking for the prime minister. They clearly have hired muscle, but not many, I suspect. Other than the few we just saw out front of the resort building, there shouldn’t be any others out here walking the perimeter. They were counting on the element of surprise—not brute force—to capture you.”

Slash suddenly stopped. “Wait, that gives me an idea.”

“What kind of idea?” Rangi and I asked at the same time.

“Lexi, give me one of your earrings,” he said to me, holding out a hand. “Quickly.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You want one of my earrings?”

He nodded impatiently. “Yes. I want to track this Moe Tataroa. It may help us determine where he is at any given time, and that could lead us to others.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, reaching behind my ear to tug one of them off. “I get it. You need a tracking device.”

“Exactly.”

Rangi stared at us in disbelief during this exchange. “What’s going on? I’m not sure what to be in shock about first—that you want to track Moe, or that she’s wearing trackable earrings. Who are you people?”

“Just two geeks on a honeymoon,” Slash said, taking the earring I gave him and dropping his bags at my feet. “Given our current situation, the best defense might just be a good offense. Both of you, stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared before Rangi could protest. We moved closer to the shadows of the trees, but I could feel Rangi staring at me.

“Look, it’s not what you think,” I finally said, lifting my hands. “I have this habit of getting into trouble, and it helps when Slash can track me quickly and efficiently. Think of it as a kind of Find My Phone app, but without the phone part. You know, like Find My Lexi?”

He didn’t laugh or comment. Thankfully, Slash returned quickly, relieving the awkward silence.

“I wasn’t seen. I put the earring under the mat of the passenger seat of Moe’s vehicle,” Slash said, retrieving the duffel and his laptop bag. “It may be a long shot, but worth taking if it leads us to where the so-called coup team may be setting up.”

Rangi nodded. “Hate to say it, but that was smart, if not dangerous. You could have been caught.”

“And yet here I am,” Slash said. “Safe and sound.”

We picked up the pace and ducked down a path that led to the pool and then swerved onto a sandy path that led away from the hotel and back toward the center of the island. Rangi took the lead, I followed, and Slash brought up the rear.

“How much farther is the car?” I asked.

“It’s parked a few more blocks away,” Rangi said, glancing over his shoulder.

We crossed a small side road and Rangi quickly ushered us into the shadows until a police car and an open truck with some armed men in the back drove past.

“More thugs,” Rangi said in disgust and then motioned for us to continue. “We don’t have much time. They’ll be back around.”

We crossed a few more side streets before arriving at a dark sedan. Rangi opened the door for us, and we climbed in. Slash sat in the passenger seat, and I got into the back.

“Where are we going?” I asked, fastening my seat belt.

“To the prime minister, but not by a direct route, just in case,” Rangi answered.

He pulled away from the curb and we headed in the opposite direction of the resort, the prime minister’s house, and the capital.

“Hoping to avoid a roadblock?” Slash asked.

“I am,” Rangi said. “Not sure how lucky we’ll get. There’s essentially one major road on the island, and there are places where there are no side streets; everything just funnels to the Ara Tapu. Those are the logical spots for the roadblocks. I just hope they haven’t had time to set up everywhere yet.”

We drove slowly for about five minutes before Rangi swore and pulled off to the side of the road. “Roadblock ahead and no way around it.”

It was possible to see in the distance the unmistakable flashing of police lights. The sight sent a spike of adrenaline through my veins.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“You’re going to get in the trunk,” Rangi said.

“What?” I exclaimed from the back seat. “The trunk?”

“They could be looking for you, as well as the prime minister,” Rangi said. “It’s safer that way.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Won’t they recognize you?”

“You overestimate my popularity,” he said. “They won’t be looking for me.”

Slash had already unbuckled his seat belt. “He’s right, cara . We can’t risk it. Time to play sardines.”

I got out of the car just as Rangi swung open the trunk. As I joined the men, I saw it contained a folded umbrella, some empty canvas bags, and the faint aroma of food. Likely Rangi kept his groceries in here while transporting them from the store to home.

“I’m not thrilled about this,” I said, but climbed in and made myself as small as possible to make room for Slash. It wasn’t easy, because at five foot eleven, I’m far from petite.

Slash got in next, contorting himself tightly into the cramped space. He had to fold himself uncomfortably, his body jammed against mine, his face resting against my cheek. We’d already started to sweat.

“It’s a good thing we’re married,” I joked. “Our positioning is leaving nothing to the imagination.”

“I think this brings the phrase our love is tight to a new level,” he agreed. “Is there anything in the marriage code about trunk intimacy?”

“I’d roll it into the third one—romance and intimacy.”

Before Slash could speak, Rangi spoke. “Okay, kids, looks like you’re in all the way. With a little luck, we’ll get through quickly.” He closed the trunk, and we were immediately plunged into a humid darkness.

A minute later, we felt Rangi pull back onto the road and move forward. Soon, we came to a stop but didn’t hear Rangi talking to anyone.

“There’s probably a queue,” Slash murmured against my cheek.

“Probably,” I whispered, moisture sliding down my temples.

The car inched forward on and off for a few more minutes. Finally, we heard Rangi call out in a relaxed, conversational tone. “Afternoon, Officer. Enjoying the fine weather?” His voice was light, most likely designed to put the cop at ease.

“Yes, sir. I sure am. Just doing my duty.” The officer sounded young, which could work in our favor, unless he was a stickler for the job and checked the trunk. But Rangi was keeping his focus on him.

“What duty is that, Officer?”

“Well, the prime minister has resigned, but she’s missing,” the officer replied. “We’re stopping cars, looking for her. I’m supposed to bring her in if I find her.”

“Is that so?” Rangi said, feigning surprise. “So, that’s what this roadblock is for. Hey, I don’t know if it means anything, but I just heard on the radio a caravan was spotted on the road not too far behind me. That might be her. In fact, she could be on her way to you right now. Wouldn’t that make you the hero of the day if you were the one to find her?”

“Yes, sir. It would.”

“Well, good luck to you. I sure hope it’s you who finds her. May I proceed? I don’t want to be late to work.”

There was a pause, and then the officer spoke. “Of course. You’re good to go, sir. Keep your eyes peeled, though. If you see or hear anything about the prime minister, you call it in, okay?”

“Will do. Thank you.”

We drove for a while longer before Rangi turned off the main road and then pulled over and popped the trunk. “It’s safe to come out now.”

Slash climbed out and held out a hand to help get me out. I noticed he had a black smudge on his left cheek. I reached to rub it off, but he was already moving, checking out our situation. The car was hidden from the main road by one of the numerous gardenia hedges that lined the streets. We both stretched for a minute, and I got him to hold still long enough to rub the grime off his cheek.

“You look much better now,” I said. “Suitably presentable to meet the leader, or perhaps ex-leader, of a foreign country.”

“Even if I’m sweating like a pig watching the start of a luau fire?” he quipped.

“Ha. Even then,” I assured him.

Rangi drove cautiously for about another quarter mile, eventually pulling off onto a road that turned out to be a really long driveway to a secluded white farmhouse nestled among the trees. The ground crunched loudly beneath us as we drove, the driveway made of sand and shells.

As we got closer to the farmhouse, we could see several outbuildings behind the house and distantly in the fields. There were no visible cars, and the house looked deserted. Rangi pulled up close to the house and stopped the car.

We piled out, and Rangi strode to the front door. He completed a series of knocks on the door until it finally swung open.

A man stood in the doorway holding a rifle pointed at the ground. Rangi waved us forward, and we followed him into the house and past the man with the rifle. The man closed the door behind us, then stayed by the door.

Petra stepped out from the shadows of a small side room, her face a mix of relief and exhaustion. She and Rangi exchanged glances, and then Rangi walked on toward the back of the house.

“You made it,” Petra said quietly, coming forward to greet us. “You’re safe, thank goodness.”

“For now,” Slash said. He put an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Looks like you’ve got a serious problem on your hands, Prime Minister.”

“I do, indeed. More than one, it seems, and I could use your help.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Slash said.

“Thank you. Please, let’s head to the kitchen and sit down. Slash, can I get you something to drink? I see you’re sweating.”

Slash shot me a married look that said, I told you so , even as he accepted her offer.

As we followed Petra to the kitchen, I glanced around the house. There weren’t many people, and those I could see were talking in hushed voices, some hunched over their cell phones, probably trying to keep track of what was going on. I didn’t see her family, but I guessed they were upstairs. I wasn’t sure how safe this house was or for how long the prime minister could stay here undetected. The island wasn’t that big. It was only a matter of time of time until a house-to-house search would reach this location. And who knew what that would mean for Slash and me.

Right now, the only thing I knew was that our honeymoon had gone from bliss to crisis.