Only The Good Die Young, Book 2

Chapter 7

The 737 touched down at Kingston Airport about an hour after leaving Miami. Katy felt the bump and lurch which rose her from her half-asleep stupor. Standing up she stretched her muscles which had gotten stiff on the international leg of the flight. Heathrow to Miami gives new meaning to the term “long-haul flight”. The heat hit her like a brick wall as she stepped off of the aircraft. It was oppressive, permeating every one of her senses. The light seemed to bounce off of everything, temporarily blinding her. She squinted and just about made out the person in front of her, who she followed to the customs office.

She gained entry into Jamaica with no difficulty, and claimed her luggage. She had three bags with her, and they were all very heavy. As she came out of the customs barrier, she saw a taxi and flagged it.

“Where are you going?” The cabbie asked. The cab was little more than two seats screwed onto an axle.

“Four Seasons Hotel.”

“Oh, Very nice, my lady.” The driver had a very thick accent. “Your skin, it’s so pale. Where you from?”

“England.” Katy smiled. She realised that she might look a bit odd with her perma-white skin. Fishing in her handbag she found her sunglasses and put them on.

“England, man. I never been. My great grandfather was English.”

“I’m sorry!” Katy was ashamed with what part of history he was alluding to.

“No, it’s ok. That’s life. And it wasn’t you was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Katy smiled.

“What your name, my lady?”

“Kathryn. Kathryn O’Sullivan. What’s yours?”

“Chester.” He smiled at her in his rear-view mirror and narrowly swerved through the crowded streets to miss a cart that had overturned.

“Chester, can I ask you a favour?”

“Anything my lady.”

“Have you seen this man?” Katy took out a picture of John from her handbag. She passed it up to him, and he glanced at it before passing it back to her.

“No… Why, what’s he done?”

“He’s just an old friend I’ve come to visit. Only problem is that he doesn’t know I’m here and I don’t know where he lives.”

“Tell you what my lady, I will call you at your hotel if I see him. If he gets in my cab I will let you know.”

“Thank you Chester.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Listen, can I take that picture? I’ll show it around and see if any of the other cabbies seen him?”

“Would you do that for me?”

“I already said, I’d do anything for you my lady.”

Katy smiled to herself. People in Jamaica were nice! She passed the photograph back to him.

They pulled into the hotel. Chester got out and took her cases out of the boot.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“You owe me nothing. It was my pleasure.” Chester took her hand and kissed it. “I’ll speak to you soon my lady, Katy. I know all the cabbies on this island. I’ll find him for you.”

Katy waved at him as he drove off. The bellhop had gathered her bags already and was taking them in.

Her room was luxurious and large, with a big double bed, and a view of the ocean. She cranked up the air conditioning and opened the window. It defeated the purpose but it wasn’t her electric bill. She wanted to soak in the sounds of this colourful country. Perusing the room service menu she ordered dinner up. She sat next to the window, staring out at Jamaica’s night life coming alive. She heard wonderful reggae music on the breeze and people shouting to themselves in that peculiar Jamaican dialect. Somewhere, close by, was John, she could feel it.

There was a knock on her door and her food arrived. It was nothing particularly special, but it did the job. She tipped the waiter generously and ate, watching the skyline fade from daylight, to orange and purple and finally to night. Then Katy had a thought. Why not go for a little adventure? She consulted the hotel information for something that would be fun to do that evening.

* * *

Down the road from Katy’s hotel was the Royal Jamaica Casino and Hotel. It was there that Don Beech had decided to take John out for a night of getting his mind off of things. They were sitting in the bar, having a drink and watching the girls go by.

“What about her, she’s a bit of alright?” Don asked.

A leggy brunette wearing a sequined frock with big hair walked by.

“Nah. Not my type.” John eyed up a petite blonde, wearing a sarong skirt and a low cut top.

“What *is* your type then?” Don said, looking over a middle-aged brunette wearing a black dress. “If you don’t have a crack at someone soon, I’m going to.”

“Be my guest. I’d rather drink.”

“Mate, you’ve got to get over Katy. She ain’t coming back to you. Get over it, son.”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s your round.” John tapped his glass.

Don got up, and went to the bar. A redhead sat down next to John.

“Hi there handsome, where are you from?”

“Your worst flippin’ nightmares now do you mind, my mate was sitting there.” The girl was a Yank. John hated Yanks.

“Jerk!” The girl got up and walked off.

Don came back, two beers in hand, “Now what was wrong with her? She was gorgeous!”

“She’s a Yank.”

“So? They can’t all be from the UK, you know. More chance you running into Yanks then Brits down here anyway. All the Brits go to Barbados.”

John shrugged and looked over the crowd.

“Jonathan, you’ve been bloody miserable since we set foot in this place. Jamaica is paradise, my son. Sun, sea, surf, and loads of fit birds on holiday who want sex. What more could you ask for? No, wait, don’t answer that.” Don rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to get your priorities straight. You knew the risks we were taking, you did it anyway, and now you’ve got to pay pri price. That’s why I told you, cut all your strings back home. I did the best I could for you but it’s all over now. Best you get used to it.”

Don got up, “I’m going to go blow some of my hard-earned money. Talk to you later.”

On the floor below them, the doorman opened the door to a beautiful blonde, wearing a lilac silken gown, the tiniest necklace made of gold, with a single shell pearl in the middle of her neck, and her curly hair piled on her head, and cascading around her face. She had a small clutch bag in her hands.

“Where is the bar?” she asked the doorman.

“On the second floor, ma’am,” he said, smiling at her.

“Thank you.”

Katy headed upstairs. She scanned the room. There was slot machine upon slot machine, with fat Yanks wearing fanny packs stuffing coins into them A giant waterfall was in the middle of the room flowing down to the first floor. There were 10 blackjack tables, and some craps and roulette tables behind them. Katy scanned the room, looking for the bar.

Out of the corner of his eye, Don Beech noticed her walk in and he turned to look. He dropped his bag of chips, and said, “Shit!” loudly. He had no time to get to John.

Katy was lucky. She saw him before he saw her. Her feet were leaden as if she was frozen to the spot. He was standing at the bar ordering a drink, his back turned towards her. She could hear his dulcet Scouse tone of voice over everyone in the room. He turned around to go back to his seat, and saw her there, standing, watching him.

“Katy!” he said, almost not believing it.

She backed up, slowly, unsure of herself, eyes wide. He took a step forward. And then as if the magnets on her feet broke, she gained control back and took off, running away, quickly.

“Oi! Katy!” John hollered. He slammed the beer glass down on the bar and took off after her.

Don saw her cut a path through the machines and Yanks. He caught up with John as he sprinted past the table. “It’s her Don!” John said.

“I know, I saw her.” Don said.

Katy didn’t want it to happen like this. She didn’t want him to catch her. She ran down the sweeping staircase quickly, and glanced over her shoulder. John was at the top, with Don at his back. She ran thr the the door and shouted at the doorman, “Stop those men!”

John and Don hit the front door and the doorman stuck his arm out, “Not so fast gentlemen.”

“What, why? Get out of my way!” John struggled around the doorman. He tried to see which direction she ran in. She ducked into the hotel next door and then the doorman let them pass.

John hit the pavement quickly, and glanced up and down the street. She was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it! Goddamn it!” he hollered. “Damn it!”

“Calm down mate. She couldn’t have gone far.” Don put his hands in his pocket and looked at John, who was contemplating smashing his fist into something.

“Well you tell me then where she is?” He asked, sarcastically.

“Hotel. She’d be staying in a hotel,” Don said. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. Now what do we do to track someone down in a hotel, Jonathan?”

“Call around the hotels and find out which one she’s staying in.”

“See?” Don patted him on the back, “I knew they made you a DS for a good reason.” John glared at him.

Don turned around to go back inside. John hailed a taxi.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. To find out which hotel she’s at.”

“Suit yourself. Later.” Don went back inside.

Katy saw John get in the taxi, and watched it pull away from where she was hiding, behind a pot plant in the hotel lobby. She was sure people were staring at the well dressed woman cowering behind the plant, but she didn’t care. She stood up and walked back to the casino.

“Excuse me?” She asked the doorman.

“Are you alright, honey? Did they try to hurt you?”

“No. Do you know them?”

“Yeah. They come here a lot. The red headed fellow usually gets drunk and the older man usually takes home some lady.”

“I see. Do you have any idea who they are?”

“No… you don’t have to be a member to come here.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

She hoped that either Chester or one of his friends was driving John’s taxi. Her head hurt and her feet were aching. Slowly, she walked up the street. Upon getting to her hotel, she instructed them to not tell anybody that she was staying there, except for a man named Chester.

* * *

Around 12:30 in the afternoon, John’s phone rang.

“So, any luck mate?”

“No. Called the Hilton, the Four Seasons, the Crowne Plaza, and the Meridian. None of them had a Kathryn O’Sullivan staying there. The Four Seasons nearly hung up on me when I asked.”

“Would she be staying under an assumed name?”

“Possibly. I doubt it though. She doesn’t know the kind of people it takes to get a fake passport.”

“What if she told the hotel not to give out her name to anyone?”

“There’s a possibility. Why did you choose those hotels?”

“They’re all 5 star. She would only stay at five star hotels.”

“Rich ta,” D,” Don said.

“Yeah. Her dad left her quite a lot of money when he died. She’s got plenty. I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“We could go wait in the lobbies of the hotels to see if she comes out. She’s bound to go out sometime.”

“Just what I want to do, sit in some hotel lobby waiting on someone who may or may not be staying there. Nice idea, mate,” Don said, sarcastically.

“Alright, don’t then. I am. I’m desperate. She must have came for a reason.”

“Maybe to go on holiday?” Don said.

“Why here though? She knows I’m here. She must have wanted to run into me.”

“Yeah whatever. Have fun in the hotels. Call me when you find her or get a life, whichever one comes first.”

John hung up. He called a taxi to take him to the Meridian.

* * *

Just on the off chance, Katy decided to look in the phone book. There were no John Boultons or J. Boultons in the book. The only similar name was J. Bassett. Katy decided to check it out anyway. She jotted down the address and flagged a taxi. Chester pulled up.

“Ah, my lady! You are more beautiful today!”

“Hi Chester! How are you?”

“I’m fine my lady. No sign of your fellow. I asked my cousins to keep a look out for you.”

“Thanks, mate!”

“No problem my lady. Where can I take you?”

“1321 Ocean Drive.”

“Ooh, that’s a nice neighbourhood. Does your friend live there?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m going to check.”

“Oh, I see.” Chester drove out into the road, nearly mowing down some pedestrians. He shouted something out the window to them, and they gestured back.

“Stupid people. Jah will be seeing them soon. Sorry about that my lady.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got them in my country too.”

“May I be so bold as to ask you something?”

“What’s that?”

“Would you ever like to go to dinner with me? I know a lovely lady like yourself might have tons of gentlemen but I and I would like to know if there’s space on your list for me?”

“Well, maybe. May I take your number and call you?”

“I’d like that.”

They pulled outside of 1321 Ocean Drive. It was a small bungalow on the beach. A black cat sat near the front door. It meowed at Katy as she got out.

Chester wrote his phone number down on the back of a card for Miss Sanjia’s Lobster House. “Do you want me to wait for you, my lady?”

The cat had wandered over to investigate these people who were getting out of the car. It rubbed against Katy’s leg. She noticed the tag on the collar. The name of the cat was Sooty.

“No, I think I’ll be alright. Thanks Chester.”

“You call me, lady, if you need anything.” He kissed her hand again, and drove off.