Chocolate Dove (7 page)

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Authors: Cas Sigers

BOOK: Chocolate Dove
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Basra's evening was moving in the complete opposite direction as Lucia's. Although Derrick asked that she not place her clothing back on, he only wanted to sit and talk. Basra was relieved but still wondered if he was setting her up for a surprise act of debauchery. If so, she would have to wait until the morning, because the two of them talked throughout the night until Basra finally fell asleep on the edge of the bed.
The following morning the group of women met on the roof terrace for breakfast. The men ate on a separate side. The girls were full of chatter just like any girl would be after a first date. Basra was amazed at how conditioned the women had become. She didn't say much, which was normal, but she was shocked at the quiet, still manner of Lucia, which was the antithesis of her personality. As Lucia devoured her French toast, Basra stirred up conversation.
“You okay? You don't look so well.”
Lucia didn't say anything, only smiled with a mouthful of breakfast, and nodded her head. Lucia was always the loquacious ringleader but this morning as she sat quiet as a church mouse, Basra knew something was awry. Yet she knew not to pry while others were around. Immediately after breakfast, the girls were asked to join the men on the luxurious fifty-foot yacht. Once again, Basra was enraptured by the opulence of the twenty-four-karat gold trimmings and marble accents. She'd seen wealth like this from afar but never experienced it firsthand.
Who wouldn't want to live like this?
she asked herself. The group began branching off into couples but before Basra left Lucia's side, she pulled her aside for quick line of questioning.
“Are you okay? Did something happen to you last night? Why are you so quiet?”
“Par for the course,” Lucia replied before looking to her right and left.
Basra moved closer and stared into Lucia's eyes. “Something happened?”
Lucia leaned in to whisper. “It's Ahsan, he—”
From around the corner, Ahsan appeared. “There
you are. Let's go to the top, the view is wonderful.”
Lucia placed on her pageant smile and held out her hand. “Let's go,” she replied. The two walked down the corridor hand in hand. Basra went to the restroom and then met Derrick in the sky lounge of the upper deck. They sat and had drinks as the yacht sailed slowly into the Mediterranean.
“Whose boat is this?” Basra asked.
“It belongs to Ahsan's family. They usually keep it in Ibiza at their home.”
“Ibiza's that way? Right?” Basra said, pointing west.
“Yes,” Derrick commented, scooting a bit closer to his date. He smiled at her and then softly grazed her leg. This intimate gesture didn't make Basra cringe or pull away. It was as though she almost welcomed it.
“You're not attracted to me, are you?” she asked.
“You are very beautiful,” he replied.
“But you didn't answer my question.”
“You look like the women from home. I find you very attractive.”
Basra thought about his response for a second before responding. “How come you haven't tried to sleep with me?”
“Because I am happily married.”
Basra was shocked. “We've been talking all this time and you never said you were married.”
Derrick laughed quietly and cast his focus into the waters.
“So ... why did you come here?”
“These are my business partners and I was invited. It would have been rude to decline.”
“But you knew there would be women on the boat, right? Escorts?”
“Of course. They have these sorts of excursions often. I normally do not participate; however, my stake in the company is greater now, and I'm expected to entertain with them. All of us are married. I simply choose to be faithful to my wife.”
“So you don't want to sleep with me?”
“It isn't a matter of desire, it is a matter of discipline.”
Basra gave a half-grinning, half-unsettling expression and quickly turned away to avoid Derrick from seeing the tears well. However, he rose and walked to her other side, forcing her to face him.
“I didn't mean to upset you.”
“I'm not upset,” she uttered.
She placed her head on his shoulder and sobbed while speaking. “This is not what I want to do. I do it because I have to right now. I don't ...” Basra lifted her head. “I will still get paid, won't I?”
“Of course. In fact, I'm willing to pay you a little more for your discretion.” Basra's tears filled again. She knew without a doubt that in spite of her actions, God was still watching over her, and so she whispered a quiet thank you, and continued to look out into the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean.
On the roof deck, Ahsan seemed to be a little gentler than the night before. Lucia was enjoying her coffee as he smoked a His Majesty's Reserve Ghurka. He turned toward Lucia and blew a puff of the cognac-infused cigar smoke in her face.
Ahsan looked at Lucia and released a devious grin. “I could toss you over this deck right now and no one would know.”
Lucia smiled through the cloud of tobacco haze and replied. “Then I guess I should thank you for sparing my life.”
“You should. I should also get a reward.”
Lucia leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ahsan took her hand and forced her to grab his crotch and squeeze. Lucia's hand tensed up as he pulled her upper body close to the railing. Lucia immediately went into character.
“I'm just a worthless slut. Why would you risk your soul with Allah on someone like me?”
Ahsan peered into Lucia's eyes and then burst into a strong, lusty laugh. “I like you!” he jeered and continued to chortle while releasing her hand.
Lucia, who had been holding her breath for the last thirty seconds, finally exhaled and laughed along with him.
“Excuse me,” he said and walked away to the restroom.
Once he got out of eyesight, Lucia furiously ran downstairs to find Basra.
“Dove!” Derrick called out. “Your name should be Dove.”
“Dove? I like that.”
“Yes, it's exotic, it's simple. And it's a symbol of peace. Your spirit is very peaceful. They are thoroughbreds of the sky, you know. Wherever they are released, they typically find their way back home.”
“The only thing I know about doves is that they are pigeons. I don't know if I want to be a pigeon,” chuckled Basra.
“Doves are very smart. In the Bible a dove was released to help Noah find land.”
“You're Muslim; what do you know about the Bible?”
“It is wise to be knowledgeable in all aspects of theology. From now on you are Dove: innocent, peaceful, and intelligent.”
Basra continued to giggle. Suddenly, Lucia rushed up behind her.
“I need to talk with you.”
“Is everything okay?” asked Derrick.
“Yes, I just need to talk to my friend. Female stuff.”
Lucia pulled Basra from her date and pushed her around the corner.
“What is it?” Basra asked.
“Ahsan is going to kill me. We have to go!”
“What!” yelped Basra. “He is not!”
“Last night he choked me until I passed out and when I became conscious, he had bound my feet and arms together. I can't even get into the rest.”
“Oh my God.”
“But that's not the worst of it. I've had some very kinky encounters with men, and I normally don't judge, but just now he said he could throw me off the boat and kill me and no one would know or care because I'm just a dirty slut.”
Basra's eyes bulged. “That's not good.”
“We have to go,” persisted Lucia.
“Go where? We can't go. We're on an island.”
“We have to go somewhere. He is horrible. He smells like stinky cigars, his feet are like claws. His penis is the size of my middle finger and did I mention that he's going to kill me.”
Basra's big eyes grew larger.
“You okay?” asked Lucia.
“Uh huh,” she answered while furiously blinking and nodding.
Her odd, rapid actions made Lucia turn around. Standing over her shoulder was Ahsan, who appeared from nowhere with a raging expression indicating that he was not pleased with Lucia's attempt to escape.
Chapter 6
Lucia clung tight to Basra's arm.
“Now he's going to kill us both,” Basra whispered with a tinge of fright.
“You disrespect me?” Ahsan said.
“She didn't mean it!” Basra called out. “We weren't talking about you. She was repeating what I said about Derrick.”
Ahsan looked at both girls and approached slowly. Their bodies tensed.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked Lucia.
“I was checking on my friend. She's new to this business and—”
“Shut up!”
Just then Derrick came around the corner.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
Basra nodded but kept quiet.
“Dove, I would like to show you something,” commented Derrick, and he extended his hand to her.
“Maybe we could all go,” she suggested, holding on to Lucia's hand.
“It's okay, Basra. I'm fine,” said Lucia, whose palm had become clammy from fear.
Like a Western showdown, all four individuals stood still and waited for someone to make his or her move. Everyone's eyes shifted from right to left, but no one made a step.
Finally, Ahsan flipped his demeanor. “Let's have a drink,” he said to Lucia. “Come on.” He took Lucia's arm and she finally disconnected from Basra. As Ahsan ushered Lucia away, she looked desperately over her shoulder until they disappeared into another part of the boat.
“She's very scared of him,” Basra immediately said to Derrick in an unsettling tone.
“Why?”
Basra wasn't sure how close the two men were, and she didn't want to make his friend sound completely insane, but she felt someone should know the truth. “He said he could throw her overboard, and no one would care.”
Derrick chuckled a bit. “He was joking. I'm sure.”
“I don't know.”
“She'll be fine. Let's have some lunch,” he responded.
It was apparent he didn't want to mess in Ahsan's affairs and so she left it alone. Besides, Lucia was normally overdramatic, and Ahsan wouldn't do anything crazy in front of his business partners. Furthermore, the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize her money and so she continued to keep quiet.
They ate a pleasant dinner and stayed on the yacht until the evening. This was the easiest money Basra had ever made, but she was still concerned about Lucia and couldn't fully relax. Although Derrick tried to assure her that everything was well, she wasn't buying it. Neither Ahsan nor Lucia was at dinner and she didn't see them the remainder of the night.
By morning, Basra was completely on edge. She woke early Monday, got dressed, and rushed to the roof terrace to meet the girls. They trickled in one by one, but there was no sign of Lucia. No one had seen her since last evening. Basra became panicked, thinking Lucia was truly in danger. She went back to the suite to inform Derrick.
“Maybe she decided to sleep in,” he replied.
“No! She knows I'd be concerned. Plus, she loves food, and would never miss breakfast.”
“You're upset over nothing,” he said calmly.
Basra went back to the roof, asking about Lucia's whereabouts along the way. No one had seen her. An hour later, the men gathered. Without hesitation, Basra approached Ahsan.
“Where's Lucia?” she questioned.
Ahsan, bothered by Basra's tone, glanced at Derrick and then replied. “I have no idea where your friend is.”
“You're lying,” she exclaimed.
Derrick quickly walked over and attempted to pull her to the side. Basra refused to go quietly.
“You know where she is! What did you do to her?”
“You cannot speak to him like that.” whispered Derrick.
“I can speak to him anyway I want, especially if he did something to Lucia,” she countered.
By now, Ahsan had walked away and the commotion calmed. “I will help you find her,” said Derrick.
The two walked off and frantically inspected every nook and cranny of the home for Lucia. None of the staff admitted to seeing her, but Basra insisted that someone had to know something.
“She couldn't have just disappeared,” she said. “What would he do with her body?”
“Well, this is an island, and we are surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea.” He chuckled.
Basra slapped him on the shoulder. “It's not funny.”
“Nothing has happened to her. I promise. Maybe she's on the yacht.”
“Good idea.”
Basra and Derrick looked in every crevice and cubby. But they couldn't find her. On the roof-top deck, Basra walked to the edge and looked out over the water. She started to cry, but quickly wiped her tears as she heard Derrick's footsteps.
“I will speak with Ahsan,” he insisted.
Basra buried her body within his chest and took comfort in his sincere embrace. Once they got off the boat, Basra spent the rest of the day at the hacienda looking for Lucia, but no one seemed to either know or care about her whereabouts. The men paid her no attention, and the women didn't want to get involved.
“I can't believe people,” she continually said to Derrick throughout the evening. “I appreciate you for helping.”
The evening hours passed slowly and by now Basra was convinced something had truly happened to Lucia. She had no appetite and spent the night sulking.
Tuesday, the men had several meetings and so the ladies spent most of the day lounging by pool. Around three that afternoon, one of the cooks saw Basra sitting alone on the deck. He rushed up to her and spoke his best English.
“Your friend, I see her,” he whispered.
“You see her where?”
“At night.”
“Was she alone?” Basra asked.
“I saw the man, he look too.”
“What man? Ahsan?”
“No name,” said the cook. “She was upset. I show her the way.”
“Why didn't you take her there? What if he got to her?”
“I see things here, no trouble this way.”
“I understand,
gracias.
”
“
De nada.
” The cook looked around and rushed away.
Basra's mind reeled with horrible possibilities. “What really goes on here? And why is he so scared?” she asked herself.
This once Fantasy Island had become the land of terror. Basra was ready to leave. She went to the dining area where the men were gathering for another meeting. She quickly got Derrick's attention. He asked her to wait momentarily. Basra paced outside of the glass door until he was able to come out.
“I can't get any cell phone service on the island. How do I get some transportation over to Ibiza?”
“Are you leaving?”
“I just want to be able to call Lucia or see if she left me a message.”
“And what if you cannot find her? Then what? Do you return?”
“I don't know. But ...”
“But what?” he asked.
“I need the money. I will be back. I don't want to cause any trouble, I just want to find my friend.”
“You have to take the ferry over.”
“I will be back.”
Basra inquired about the ferry but realized the last ferry had already left. Outside of a private boat, which she had no access to, there was no way she was going to get off the island. Basra was forced to spend another night not knowing if Lucia was dead or alive.
Wednesday morning Basra woke early and made her way to the pontoon to inquire about a ferry ride. Luckily, there were two hacienda staff workers going over to Ibiza to get supplies. Basra kindly asked to ride the private boat with them and they obliged. As soon as she got on the mainland, she tried her cell, which was supposed to get international service. She was unable to get through. The ordeal was making her stomach tremor into knots. She tried a few more times and then waited at the dock where the men said they would return. There were a few stragglers at the dock and so Basra pulled up a picture of her and Lucia and showed it to a few men in hopes that someone would have some information, but she had no luck. However, when the men returned with the supplies, she saw one of them on the phone.
“Can you call America?” she asked.
“America? Yes, I do believe,” he replied.
“May I?”
He handed Basra his cell phone and she eagerly dialed Lucia's number. It didn't go through until the other gentleman took the phone and dialed a code.
“What is the number?” he asked.
Basra gave him the number and seconds later she was connected. She nervously listened to each ring. But after six, Lucia's voice mail blared through the receiver.
“Lucia, I'm so concerned about you. Please e-mail me when you get this. Let me know if you are okay. Please don't forget. Please!”
Basra handed the man his phone and then boarded the boat. Bara couldn't eat or sleep. Derrick did his best to comfort her but there was no use.
That evening before the group loaded on the ferry, Derrick requested Basra's information.
“I have deeply enjoyed your company. Please record your information in my phone so that I may send you a gift.”
Basra left her information with Derrick and started her journey back home.
Due to sheer exhaustion, Basra slept most of the plane ride back to the States. She couldn't wait to get back into her place and sleep in her bed, and as soon as the plane landed, she called Lucia. Still, there was no answer. She called her again in the cab, but no answer. Basra rushed into the condo, yelling her name.
“Lucia! Lucia! You better be asleep,” yelled Basra.
She looked throughout the place, but Lucia wasn't there and it looked the same as it did when they left: clean. Lucia's bed was untouched. There were no wet towels in the bathroom and no old coffee in the maker. Lucia always left traces of old coffee. She always made enough for two cups, but only drank a cup and a half.
“Where is your other half a cup!” she screamed. “Hell, where are you?” Basra called Lucia's cell phone once more. There was no answer and now the voice mail came on immediately.
“Oh, God, what if they killed her for real?” Basra whispered.
Her body would never be found and how could I explain any of this to her family?
“I don't even know her family,” Basra said to the empty seat next to her. “Shit!” she yelled. “I have to call Hollis.”
Basra left a message on Hollis's phone but didn't allude to any trouble. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the terrace. By her third glass, she was crying. She couldn't stop the continuum of heinous thoughts. She picked up the phone to dial Hollis again, but before she could dial, her phone rang.
“Hollis. Have you talked with Lucia?”
“I thought she was with you. Didn't you return this morning?”
“She left early.”
“Was there a problem?”
Basra didn't want to alarm Hollis without solid proof, but the sudden burst of tears gave her away.
“I don't know where she is. The guy was very mean and she thought he was going to kill her, and then she just disappeared.”
“Disappeared? What man?”
“Ahsan. One of the guys from the island.”
“Hold up, what island?”
“Isla de sa Ferradura. The steel guys,” Basra said.
“I don't know what you are talking about. I had a party in Washington that I needed three girls for. Lucia said you wouldn't be available because you two were going on a vacation and would be back Wednesday.”
“So the island trip wasn't your job?” “No, and it is against our policy to take private gigs or ones with other agencies. You signed an exclusive deal with Choice.”
“I thought this was a Choice job.”
“Did you receive any documentation or information on the gentleman?”
“No. Lucia gave me my ticket and I just followed her.”
“So where is Lucia now?”
“I don't know. She was at the hacienda and then the next morning she was gone.”
“Have you called the police?”
“No. I just got back this morning and I thought she might have left the island early. But she's not here and she hasn't been here. Should I call the police?”
“I can't get involved. I didn't have anything to do with your trip.”

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