Ocean: The Awakening (11 page)

Chapter 20

Alicia had never been close to her older brother, though she’d made the effort so many times without success that it embittered her. Jeff seemed passionless when it came to sibling affection, forming a wall around himself that she hadn’t been able to penetrate. The only passion she ever saw in him was vitriol toward her, and jealousy for anything good that ever happened to her.

He’d been making extra efforts (obvious to her) to position himself closest to Grandfather Ellsworth, and she’d been allowing him to do that, without any countervailing moves on her part. A pattern became apparent in which Jeff would notice something wrong at the ranch, perhaps an employee slacking off or stealing something, and he would report it directly to the old man. In the first few weeks, this had put her brother into favor with him, but as the tattletale pattern continued, and Jeff began distorting information in order to continue to “prove” himself, or treating good employees poorly, he began to arouse widespread enmity—and this aura of bad feeling eventually reached the ears of Preston Ellsworth III.

A day ago Jeff had attempted to limit employees to fifteen minute breaks, which he timed on a random, spot-check basis—ignoring entirely that many of them put in longer hours than they were paid for, or were valuable to the ranch for other reasons, because of their special knowledge and experience.

To Alicia’s dark amusement, this actually had the opposite effect on their grandfather than her brother wanted. That afternoon she had been going to see the old man at his office when she heard him through a partially open door, railing at Jeff for going beyond his duties and alienating employees. She’d waited outside in the wide, open-air corridor that was lined with big-leaf plants and flowers, listening as her grandfather shouted.

“I’ve worked for years to treat my staff fairly and gain their trust, and I’m not going to have you coming in here and upsetting everything! Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Jeff had said, his voice weak.

“I’d better not get any more complaints about you!”

“You won’t, sir.”

Moments later, Jeff had emerged from the office, and seen Alicia. He’d reddened, obviously wondering how much she’d heard, but had hurried away without saying anything, like the proverbial dog with its tail between its legs. Upon seeing the stricken look on her stocky older brother’s face, Alicia’s amusement had dissipated, and she’d felt some sympathy for him.

She had gone in afterward, and acted as if she had not heard anything, while the elderly man spoke to her about the decline in bookings at the ranch hotel due to problems at the beaches, and with the aquatic-park animals.

“Our revenues are down,” he’d said. “We’re off eleven percent, at a time of year when we should be at or near capacity. I’m very concerned. We need to stay on top of this and get it turned around. I want daily reports from you about how the fish in the aquatic park are behaving. I’m also getting reports from other staff around the ranch.”

“I’ll do my best, Grandfather.”

“That’s good.” He’d smiled gently and given her a strong hug. It was one of the nice things about the elegant old man, the feelings of affection he had toward family members; how he was willing to give both her and Jeff an opportunity at the ranch, taking them away from the drug and other problems in California.

As she pulled away, he’d said, “I know I can count on you.”

She’d nodded, and left.

Alicia had not intended to gain any advantage over her brother that day, but it had happened anyway, though she’d had no idea at the time how temporary it had been….

This morning she was in her room alone, thinking about Kimo, missing him and wondering why he had not called her. He must be busy, she decided, something to do with his seriously ill father. She didn’t want to bother Kimo, but also wanted to let him know she cared, and wanted to see him again. She thought she’d made that clear after their wonderful first date. But she wasn’t sure what to do next.

Just then her phone did ring, but it was not Kimo; it was her grandfather, informing her in a terse voice that he wanted to see her right away. When she entered the old man’s office she saw Jeff there, standing by the window with his back to her. Preston Ellsworth III sat at his large koa wood desk, glaring at her. He pointed to a chair facing him, where she sat.

“I want straight answers from you,” he said.

Uh oh
, she thought, knowing what must have occurred. Her brother was avoiding eye contact with her.

“Jeff learned from the stable boy that you went horseback riding with Kimo Pohaku,” her grandfather said. “A crazy Pohaku on one of
my
horses, on
my
property? And he rode in one of
my
Jeeps, too? You know how I feel about that family!” He half rose out of his chair before settling back down.

“Kimo’s not the way you think. He’s a nice young man. I’ve had long talks with him, and he wishes the land dispute would just go away.”

“He said that to you?”

“Not in so many words. But he doesn’t like the quarrel between our families. He’s a good person, Grandfather. Really, he is, and holds no animosity toward our family at all.” Looking at her brother, who finally turned and met her gaze, she said, “Does Jeff have to be here? Can’t this be a personal conversation?”

“This is a family matter,” their grandfather said. “He stays.”

Jeff’s expression was irritatingly smug. He fiddled with the gold chain around his neck.

“If that’s the way you want it,” she said. “Several days ago, I went to City Hall and went through old land records. I found out what the dispute is over, that long ago Keke Pohaku claimed he was defrauded of his land by a local official, who allowed your grandfather, Preston Ellsworth I, to purchase the Pohaku land for seventy-two dollars in back taxes!”

“That’s a distortion,” the old man said. “Why did you go to City Hall without telling me?”

“I’m telling you now, Grandfather, and what I found there does not look good for our family. It looks like we used fancy lawyers and dirty tricks to steal from a simple man who could not read or write.”

Preston Ellsworth’s blue eyes flashed. “Everything that occurred is not in those records.”

She shot him her own hard glare. “Like the bribery of public officials, you mean?”

“There is no proof of anything like that.”

“I’m sure we Ellsworths have seen to that.”

“Are you accusing
me
of something?”

“Not you, but your grandfather, and maybe even your father may have done something unethical, and the details have grown clouded with time.”

He looked hurt, glowered at her with his eyes burning.

“Grandfather, the old Pohaku land is on the northeast edge of your ranch, with much of it running up a steep slope from the sea—not the best area for cattle grazing. The Pohakus used to farm the land with terraces on the hillside. Give it back to them; you won’t miss it.”

He looked a little calmer, but said, “There’s been too much bad blood for that to ever happen. Besides, even if I wanted to help one family, I wouldn’t want to set a legal precedent that would make other families demand their land back, too. Believe me, Alicia, it is a subject that is best left to wither and die. You do not understand the history of the land, and how we are entitled to it. We Ellsworths have worked this ranch for decades, and have
earned
the right to be here.”

“I’m sure our family has worked hard, and you dearly love the land, Grandfather, even consider yourself a proper steward of it. But your argument sounds like what Americans always say about taking the land from the Indians, and what the Afrikaners said in South Africa as a justification for leading the country and taking the lion’s share of the resources.”

Preston Ellsworth’s mouth curled into a wry smile. “Nice play on words—the lion’s share in South Africa.”

The double meaning had been unintended, but she nodded.

“I won’t order you not to see Kimo anymore,” he said, “or threaten you if you do, because the past is not his fault.
I will just tell you that it is not a healthy relationship for you to have. There are deep feelings of antipathy between our families.”

“Would you be more comfortable if I left the ranch, if I moved out?”

“That wouldn’t stop you from seeing the young man, would it?”

“No,” she admitted. “I really like him.”

She exchanged glances with Jeff, noted a sneer on his face.

“I want you to stay,” the old man said, his eyes welling with tears. “Your grandmother, God rest her soul, was always giving me challenges like this. You remind me of her sometimes.”

“She wanted you to give the land back, too?”

He nodded. “Some of it, anyway. She said we have enough real estate, and should donate at least a hundred acres as a preserve for the old Hawaiian families to use communally. I disagreed with her then, and I disagree with you now. We Ellsworths have earned our land. We don’t owe anybody anything.”

Alicia remembered her Grandmother Hermione being an elegant, aloof woman who didn’t say much. Apparently, that was not the case when she was alone with her husband.

“I only want the best for you, Alicia,” her grandfather said, as he gave her a strong hug.

“I know,” she said, looking up at him. “But I am old enough to decide for myself who I want to associate with.”

He nodded sadly, and sputtered something about needing to meet with an important visitor in a few minutes.

As Alicia left with her brother, he said to her, “I had to go to Grandfather with the information, or the stable boy was going to, anyway. He recognized Kimo immediately. At least I was able to soften the old man up a little before you got there, so he didn’t come down too hard on you.”

“What a nice thing for you to do.” Her voice dripped sarcasm, which he didn’t seem to notice.

“The sooner that old man dies the better,” Jeff said when they were out in the corridor. “Then we can sell our shares and get on with our lives.”

She moved in front of him and paused, causing him to stop. “I’m surprised you’d say that to me. Aren’t you afraid I’ll go running to Grandfather and tell him?”

“He wouldn’t believe you,” Jeff said. “It would only make you look bad.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I don’t have your skill at informing on family members.” With that, she turned abruptly and stalked away.

***

Chapter 21

As Jeff Ellsworth flew the helicopter north of Loa’kai Island, he was tired, and hardly noticed the beauty of the glimmering aquamarine sea below, or the brightly colored coral reefs visible in the shallows just beneath the surface. It was early afternoon, and he’d taken the ‘copter without notifying anyone, because of a last-minute delivery change by his drug supplier. Jeff had only a small window of opportunity, and needed to get back in forty-five minutes for a scheduled tourist flight. It would be tight, but if he was a few minutes late he would make up an excuse, and no one would be the wiser.

He’d already done four tours today, beginning at seven that morning, because the other pilot had called in sick, leaving Jeff to juggle the appointments himself. He’d done so, and had been forced to notify one of the groups of a changed time, taking them out earlier than originally scheduled, and cancelling the snorkeling portion of the tour. In the air, those guests had expressed their displeasure, saying it messed up their plans for the day. Biting his tongue, Jeff had listened to their complaints without saying much in response, except to say that he had no control over a fellow employee getting ill. What he really wanted to say was that they could all go to hell, but he wasn’t ready to do anything like that yet.

Someday, though. He could hardly wait.

He flipped off the electronic sign boards on the aircraft, then saw the fishing boat awaiting him in a different place today, in addition to the altered delivery time. He wondered what was going on, but in the encrypted e-mail exchange with his supplier Pauly Tahina there’d been very little explanation, and Jeff wasn’t going to be able to find anything out from the pair onboard the boat, either. They were just deliverymen.

There were two bags of marijuana this time, along with two of a new type of cocaine, laced with hallucinogenic additives from the rain forests of Brazil. His supplier told him it was the hottest new product on the market now, and increasingly popular on the mainland. Trusting Tahina because he’d known him for years, both here and back when Jeff lived in California, he had placed an ambitious order. Since this stuff would sell for a higher price, he anticipated a higher profit margin. It was just business, and he wanted to do well at it.

Hovering above the boat, he winched up the drugs, tested them, and dropped the payment bundle. As usual, he resealed the bags on the floor beside him and then flew away toward the island.

After making a jungle drop of cocaine for one of his retailers, Jeff made a deeper jungle drop of the remaining supplies in a safe hiding place he had used before, where he could recover the bags on foot after driving a Jeep as close as possible on a dirt road. Then he flipped on the electronic ELLSWORTH RANCH TOURS signs, and flew along the seashore, toward the landing field.

On his left, a narrow ribbon of highway ran along the side of the cliff, and he noticed the bright red streak of a vehicle that was going very fast, taking dangerous turns at a high rate of speed. To his dismay, he thought it might be his own classic Ferrari, and if so, it was probably being driven by Pauly’s friend, the one who was also staying in Jeff’s oceanfront condominium. How on earth was the man keeping that car on the road? It was a high-performance automobile, but Jeff could never operate it with that level of skill.

He circled the helicopter around and watched the speeding sports car for a while as it rolled fast through the turns, and even a hairpin turn, all very smoothly, not seeming to slide or skid at all. The driver must be working the gears with absolute precision, pushing the expensive machine to its limits, and perhaps to his own, as well. It sure looked like Jeff’s car, and he hoped the man didn’t damage it, or total it. That evening he would send an e-mail to Pauly, and ask him to have the Ferrari inspected when this guy was done with it—assuming it was the same car. Jeff felt certain it was, because he’d never seen one like it on the island.

He continued flying back to the ranch, and presently he saw the landing field. When he drew closer he noticed that his grandfather waiting for him, and he didn’t look happy. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he was only ten minutes late, which didn’t seem like enough to warrant a reprimand.

Two tourists were with him, a couple who looked to be in their sixties, in shorts and wide-brimmed floppy hats, with large cameras around their necks. From their sunburns and soft skin they looked like mainlanders who had been partaking too much of the Hawaiian weather and
luaus
. They also looked like experienced photographers, with that expensive equipment.

Jeff extended the landing struts below the pontoons, set down crisply on the grassy field, and shut off the engine. While the main and tail rotors whirred and came to a stop, he walked around the craft checking everything, one of the quick flight-system checks he always did before taking off again.

As he was inspecting the tail boom and its vertical stabilizer, he noticed that his grandfather was saying something to the tourists, and they remained where they were while the old man strode over to the helicopter to speak with him privately.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“I’m only a few minutes late, Grandfather. I’m sorry, but I saw a swimmer struggling in the surf and I dropped the basket down for him to hold onto, while I pulled him out of an undertow.”

“Where was that?”

“One of the remote beaches on the north side. His girlfriend was on the shore waving to me for help, and I saw him out there, getting carried out to sea in an undertow.”

Satisfied with his own tall tale, Jeff watched the old man’s expression, saw displeasure and frustration.

“All right,” he finally said. “Now I want you to give these guests a bonus—make sure they get a great flight, and only charge them half price.”

“It’s a good thing I saw that swimmer,” Jeff said, “or he would have drowned for sure.”

The old tycoon scowled. “We don’t run an air-sea rescue service. You’ve cost me money, and in the present downturn I’m in no mood for higher costs. This morning, one of our biggest customers, a hedge-fund manager who spends a month at the hotel every year, cancelled his reservation because of the bad publicity about the beaches.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Jeff said, “but we had been having a good year until all that happened. Hopefully, it will average out.”

“Don’t give me any of that Pollyanna crap. This is a serious problem, and because of it we’re all going to have to work harder—and take shorter breaks.” His gaze flickered to the helicopter, making his meaning obvious.

“Right, Grandfather.”

When the old man strode away toward his waiting Jeep, Jeff smiled to the tourists, and motioned for them to board.

***