Dead Girl Beach Read Free Page A

hands.” Hold on a minute. No need to panic.”
    A guy and his girlfriend smiled at each other in the crowd behind Seabury.
    â€œOkay. We go station, now,” the tall cop said.
    The cops escorted Seabury across the beach to a police cruiser, and they drove a mile west across town to the police station in Had Rin, a seacoast village on Koh Phangan Island, Thailand. Seabury had no idea why they were arresting him.

Chapter Four
    At six o’clock that night, at the end of the bar, Suma Songsiri’s head jolted back as the Black Duck’s palm flew up inches from her face. In the dim, smoggy light, what there was to know about her antagonist appeared in the dark, secret lines of his palm. The girl saw a curvy lifeline, a fractured fate-line, and thick, coarse skin—all indications of a strange, wild, and unpredictable nature.
    The hand was small. On the opposite side were manicured nails, hard and bony knuckles, and tiny, blue veins that coursed beneath the bar manager’s brown, hairless skin. There was nothing to indicate that the hand was a deadly weapon. Except for early turf wars, muggings, and extortionist shakedowns in Southtown—Hong Kong’s notorious gangster stronghold—no one locally would ever have known; however, the Black Duck’s fierce Shotokan karate hand, with its blinding speed and the ability to inflict blunt force trauma, was indeed a lethal weapon.
    Now, Suma Songsiri studied the hand. Although unusually small for a man’s hand, it looked very strong and didn’t move. It suspended in space, poised there, palm up, and in front of her nose. She wanted to bat it away but realized that a move like that wouldn’t be wise.
    The hand was motionless now, like the air in the bar. A startled group of patrons, caught off guard by the sudden quarrel, watched and waited. Eyes narrowed. Words heated quickly between them.
    â€œCan’t you see?”
    â€œSee what?”
    â€œIt’s a private party.”
    Â â€œI can’t join?”
    â€œNo way.”
    Suma winced. “That’s not fair.”
    One by one, the Black Duck’s fingers curled into a fist, and his right index finger shot out angrily at her. Scorn and outrage bloated the sides of his thin, pretty-boy, Chinese face. It flushed a beet red color and looked about ready to burst.
    â€œGo. Now! I mean it.” The Black Duck’s muffled voice strained through clenched teeth.
    Suma turned away with a slight smirk but stayed where she was. She wasn’t so much hurt or frightened as she was angry and insulted. Upset, she felt something harsh and electrical jolt her stomach. She bent over. When she straightened up, she discovered that the hand had vanished. In a rustle of thin, moist air, it had moved back from her face and dropped down to the Black Duck’s side.
    The bar manager pressed his lips together. He wanted no part of her. She was a hopeless case—some crazy person he wanted to get away from. Now, as the face-off ended, the group of partygoers gathered around the Black Duck. They patted his back, rubbed his shoulders, and offered him a drink. Faces soured and heads shook, annoyingly. Some in the group stared at Suma with looks of disgust. Others turned back to their drinks, no longer interested in her.
    She didn’t care what they thought. It didn’t matter, because she had already turned around and stormed off downstairs. Below in the basement of the disco, she crashed through the door to the ladies room. A girl reached the door just as Suma came crashing through. The edge of the door slammed against the girl’s chest and knocked her down. Suma reached down, apologizing, and went to pick the girl up.
    The girl looked up at her. She twisted her narrow shoulders and refused to budge. Her face shriveled up in a prissy, pouty look of disdain. Suma brought her hand back. Her hostility ratcheted up another notch as she straightened back up. She looked at the