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A REPRESENTATIVE AT the airport information desk put me on to a local car hire service. He said the service had used four-wheel drive Jeeps available at reasonable rates. I phoned them, and they dispatched a driver to pick Jackie and me up from the airport.
At the service, I hired a late-model Jeep Wrangler. The agent assured me the vehicle was up to the challenge of any of the Lanai roads, come rain or shine.
With transportation sorted, we drove into the city. We had decided it best to plan on spending at least one night in town. We found the downtown hotel that Jackie had mentioned. It wasn't quite what I'd expected. It was a lovely older property that offered plantation-style rooms. The desk clerk told us that the hotel was a restored plantation home. She explained a pineapple company built it to house company executives in 1923.
While Jackie had been kind enough to offer to double up to save me money, I thought she deserved her privacy. So, I paid for two rooms even though they were as pricey as Jackie had warned me they would be.
I showed Morton's photo to the desk clerk, with the flyer folded to conceal the context. She didn't recognize him and said he wasn't registered as a guest at the hotel. We weren't surprised. That would have been too easy.
After checking in, Jackie went to her room to change out of her flight suit. She had a small overnight bag with a change of clothes that she said she always kept in the helicopter. She returned after a bit wearing jeans and a surfer tee. We spent the afternoon canvassing the shops and businesses in town. We asked the townspeople for information on Morton. We failed to meet anyone who claimed to recognize his photo. No one recalled seeing him in town. We gave up around four in the afternoon and returned to the hotel. Since we hadn't had lunch, we decided to have an early dinner at the onsite bar & grille.
The menu was quite impressive. We both had the fresh fish which was very nice and cooked to perfection.
"It's a bit disappointing that we didn't find anyone in town who has seen or even heard of Adam Morton," I said.
"He may be staying at the resort I told you about," Jackie said. "That would explain why no one has seen him in town."
"That's true. As a rule, resorts are self-sufficient so there would be no need for Morton to visit the town," I said.
"We can relax this evening, get some sleep tonight, and then check out the resort tomorrow," Jackie said.
"Yep, sounds like a plan," I said.
The server returned with the check, and I handed her my card. The server returned with the receipt for me to sign. She encouraged us to return later that evening for cocktails and the live music on the outdoor patio. Both she promised were excellent.
"I'm up for it if you are," Jackie said. "Never hurts to have a little fun."
"Yep, after a rest and a shower, having some drinks would be good," I said.
We left the bar & grille and walked to our rooms. Before going our separate ways, we agreed to meet up at my room at seven to return to the bar & grille.
Inside my room, I went to the bathroom to tidy up a bit before taking a nap. I discovered the bathroom window was open. I thought that was a bit random because the air conditioning was on. I closed the window. Then he spoke.
"Hello, O'Sullivan. Long time no see."
I turned around to see Adam Morton standing in the bathroom doorway. He had a self-satisfied grin on his face and a semi-automatic in his hand.
"Adam Morton," I said. "You still lurking about?"
"You could say that," Morton said. "I heard you've been showing my photo around town and asking questions. I grew up here and still have friends in town."
"Yep, I was looking for you," I said. "You saved me a bit of trouble by coming to me. Thanks for that."
"You won't be thanking me when you find out what I have planned for you," Morton said. "I've got to hand it to you, O'Sullivan. You are one persistent bitch."
"Thanks for noticing," I said.
"We're going out the door and then left to the side of the building," Morton said. "I parked a truck there." Morton tossed me a key. "And you're going to drive."
"That didn't work out so well the last time we did that," I said.
"True, but there isn't a single traffic light on this whole island so we won't have a problem with any red lights this time."
"Where we going?" I said.
"You'll find out when we get there," Morton said. "And don't do anything to draw attention to us when we walk out of the room. You do, and you're dead. Now let's go."
I wasn't in any position to argue, so I walked to the door. I opened it and walked outside with Morton close behind me. We turned left and walked to a small carpark on the side of the hotel. There was a green Toyota ute parked there.
"Get in," Morton said.
Once I was behind the wheel, Morton got in on the other side. He kept the pistol pointed at me.
"Start the truck and drive. Make a right out of the parking lot and follow the road out of town."
I started the ute, put it in gear, and drove out of the carpark. I turned right and followed the road. The pavement ended at the edge of town. The road became a rough dirt track. We kept going. I looked at the odometer from time to time to see how far we had traveled. It read in miles instead of kilometers, but at least it gave me an idea of the distance. After 8 miles, Morton spoke.
"There will be a road on the left coming up. Turn on the road when we get there. A few minutes later the road appeared, and I turned the ute onto the road and kept driving. The road narrowed and became rougher with thick trees and underbrush on both sides. After a little less than 2 miles, we came to a clearing and a weathered wood frame hut.
"Stop here and turn off the ignition," Morton said.
I stopped the ute and turned off the engine.
"Now give me the key," Morton said. I handed it to him. He pocketed it.
"What now?" I said.
"I'm getting out, but you stay in the truck until I tell you to get out," Morton said.
Morton opened the door and walked around the front of the ute to my open window.
"Twist your body until your back is to me," Morton said. "Then put the palms of your hands on the roof of the truck and keep them there. I did, hoping to avoid him bashing me on the head again.
Once I was in position, Morton put a scarf or something, over my eyes. I could feel him knotting it at the back of my head. Unable to see now, my position became more precarious.
"You can take your hands off the roof," Morton said. "Now take your clothes off, all your clothes."
"I won't," I said. Rage was starting to build in me, along with a bit of panic. "You're mad if you think I will."
"Listen to me, O'Sullivan," Morton said. His voice was menacing. "The clothes are coming off. You can take them off yourself, or I'm going to drag you out of the truck and beat you senseless. Then I'll take them off myself."
I felt conflicted. The interior of the ute and the blindfold restricted movement. It was unlikely I could mount an effective attack on Morton without getting shot or bashed. But I wasn't keen to disrobe for him. Morton spoke again.
"I'm only taking your clothes to make escape more difficult," Morton said. "Don't flatter yourself, O'Sullivan. I don't intend to rape you. Cooperate and save yourself a beating."
I decided to cooperate for the time being. Another head injury wasn't something I was keen to experience. Cooperating with Morton now meant he wouldn't hurt me yet. That allowed me something of a chance to fight back and escape later. I pulled the singlet I was wearing off over my head. I kicked off the trainers I was wearing and shimmied out of the cargo pants. Then I sat still.
"The underwear too," Morton said. "Take them off, or I'll cut them off."
Swallowing hard, I tried to maintain control. With reluctance, I removed my bra and then the undies.
"Very good, O'Sullivan," Morton said. "You saved us both a lot of trouble. Now get on your knees in the seat facing the window and extend your hands out with your wrists together."
Now he's going to bind my wrists. I'd gone along with him thus far. So, I got my knees under me and used my hands to find the window. I extended my hands with my wrists touching. I wanted to give the appearance of compliance. But now I intended to gain a bit of an edge for later. I closed my hands in fists with my knuckles pointed toward the sound of Morton's voice. I pressed my fingers together. I pulled my elbows to my sides and kept my wrists as close to my stomach as I could without appearing to resist. I felt rope on my wrists. Morton made several wraps around my wrists and then tied off the rope. Morton made the rope tight and the binding secure, but the way I had presented my wrists created a gap between them. Later, when I relaxed the rope would be a bit looser than Morton intended. I hoped that would make me able to free my hands.
"Very good, O'Sullivan," Morton said. He sounded satisfied. "See how much better it is when you're cooperative. Now you can get out of the truck. We're going to go into the house and have a talk."
I heard the door of the ute opening. Morton took me by the upper arm and hauled me out of the ute onto my feet. I wasn't a prude by any stretch of the imagination. Still, I felt mortified at being bound and nude in the presence of Morton. There was the rancid taste of bile in my throat. At the moment I was at his mercy and had never felt so helpless. I felt dirt under my bare feet as he pushed me forward.
"Take a step up," Morton said. When I did, I felt the surface under my feet change from dirt to rough wood. After several steps, Morton yanked my arm bringing me to full stop. I heard a key going into a lock and then heard the squeak of old hinges as a door opened. Morton tugged on my arm, and I stumbled a bit, tripping over the door threshold. Morton's grip on my arm kept me upright. Even with the blindfold, I knew we were inside the hut I'd seen earlier. I sensed we were no longer in sunlight. Morton guided me forward a few more steps. He pulled me to a stop and then let go of my arm.
"Stand there," he said. I sensed him moving away. I heard something scrape across the wooden floor and then a creaking sound. Morton had sat down on a chair. It seemed I was to remain standing.
"Now we can have that talk," Morton said.
"Why did you kill Kathleen and Allison?" I said.
"I didn't have any choice. If I had released them, they were going to go to the police. They were going to say I kidnapped Allison for the ransom, that is was all my idea. They were going to say Allison managed to escape, but then I showed up at their house and kidnapped them both. It would have been my word against that of two rich bitches. Who do you think the police would have believed? I'd have lost the money, and I wasn't going to let that happen."
"It's only a matter of time before the police get you," I said. "You're a murderer. They will never stop looking for you."
"I have a plan for that," Morton said. "That's what I need you for, O'Sullivan."
"Me?" I said. "You think holding me hostage will dissuade the police?"
Morton laughed. "That's not the plan at all. I need someone else for the murders. That's where you come in, O'Sullivan."
"Me?" I said. "How do you propose to shift the blame to me?"
"Easy," Morton said. "You're going to write out a confession for the police. You're going to tell them you killed Allison and Kathleen for the ransom money. The police will have to take your word for it. Everyone is dead now that knows the story except for you and me."
In spite of my predicament, I laughed out loud. "You are mad, Morton. Not everyone is dead. Ken is still alive, and I know he was in on the scheme."
"You're right, O'Sullivan. Almost everyone then, but I have time to take care of Ken. And, yes he was in on it. Ken and I have known each other a long time. He is the one who recruited me to help Allison pull off the fake kidnapping."
"The other thing is that I'd never write out the bloody confession for you, rat bastard."
"I'm going to change your mind and you will, O'Sullivan," Morton said. "I saw you and your new friend at the hotel. I've seen her before. She's a pilot. Jackie something isn't it?"
"She isn't involved in this, Morton," I said. "I only hired her to fly me here to look for you."
"Then I'm sure you don't want Jackie to get hurt," Morton said. "As a little encouragement, in a few minutes, I'm going back to town to snatch Jackie from the hotel. I'm going to bring her here. Then you are going to write that confession. If you refuse, I'm going to take off your blindfold. Then I'm going to hurt Jackie while you watch until you decide to cooperate."
"You're filth, Morton," I said, utter filth."
"Sticks and stones, O'Sullivan, sticks and stones," Morton said. "You think I give a damn what your opinion of me is?"
"Say I write out the confession," I said. "What then? Will you leave Jackie alone? Will you let us go?"
"None of that matters," Morton said. "All you need to know is this, O'Sullivan. If you don't write the confession, I'll kill your friend while you watch. And, I'll drag it out as long as possible so that she suffers. Then when I'm finished with Jackie, I'll do the same to you. If I don't get off the hook for the first two murders, a couple more won't make any difference."
I knew two things. I'd write the bloody confession before I'd allow Morton to hurt Jackie. But, I couldn't give in yet. I also knew he intended to kill us both after I wrote it. It didn't take much imagination. I reckoned he would shoot me in the head and stage it to look like a suicide. He'd leave the gun with my body that he used to kill the Shaw women with for the police to find. The police might believe it. They would keep pursuing Morton and arrest him if they found him. But, the confession might be enough to get him off. He would dump Jackie's body somewhere on the island where no one would find her. Even if I wrote the confession out now, he'd still go after Jackie because he didn't know how much she knew about all this."
"I won't write any confession, Morton," I said. "It seems you will have to carry out your threats."
"You'll change your mind when I get back with Jackie," Morton said. "But, first I've got to make sure you will still be here when we arrive."
I heard the chair creaking again as Morton stood up. I sensed him walking behind me. I felt another bit of rope sliding between my wrists. The rat bastard pressed his body tight against my bum while he worked. It became clear that he was tying more rope to that on my wrists. Once he finished, he stepped away from me. I heard the sound of rope dragged across something. My wrists went up above my head. Morton pulled on the rope hoisting my body upwards until I was standing on my toes. Then the hoisting stopped, and I heard Morton working with the rope, tying if off I expected.
"There that should hold you until I return with Jackie," Morton said. "I'm afraid it will be a little uncomfortable for you. Better hope I'm not gone long."
"Piss off," I said.
Morton laughed again. "A bitch to the last. But you know O'Sullivan, I have to admit you have a great body. I'm a little turned on looking at you."
"Fuck off, you perverted bastard," I said.
Morton laughed again. I'm leaving. I'll be back in about an hour with Jackie, then I'll give you the chance to write that confession. If you don't, then we'll all have a little fun."
I heard Morton's footsteps on the wooden floor. The door opened and then slammed shut. I heard the ute start up outside and the sound of the tyres on dirt as it drove away. He had left me in a bit of a mess.
