Other Books by Colleen Coble
Fire Dancer
Alaska Twilight
ALOHA REEF SERIES
Distant Echoes
Black Sands
Dangerous Depths
ROCK HARBOR SERIES
Without a Trace
Beyond a Doubt
Into the Deep
Copyright © 2007 by Colleen Coble
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by WestBow Press, a division of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
WestBow Press books may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail
[email protected].
Scripture quotation is from the New King James Version®, copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc., Publishers.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Coble, Colleen.
Midnight sea / Colleen Coble.
p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-1-59554-140-6 (pbk.)
ISBN-10: 1-59554-140-3
I. Title.
PS3553.O2285M54 2007 813'.6--dc22
2006036308
For my agent, Karen Solem
—you are more than a great agent; you are a friend who tells me the truth.
GLOSSARY OF WORDS USED IN THIS BOOK
aloha (ah-LOW-hah): “hello” as used in this book. Aloha is a wonderful word. It’s a blessing of love, mercy, and compassion bestowed on the receiver.
fa’e : Tongan for “mother”
honu (HO-new): sea turtle
imu (EE-moo): fire pit for cooking luau pig
kaina (KY-nuh): cousin
keiki (KAY-kee): child
kiu’ (KEE-oo): Tongan for “egret”
mahalo (mah-HAH-low): thanks
mahalo nui loa (mah-HAH-low NEW-ee LOW-ah): thank you very much
‘ophihi (oh-FEE-hee): a tasty delicacy of limpet
pa’anga : Tongan money
pipipi (pi-PIP-ee): black marine snail
pupus (POO-poose): appetizers
slippers : flip-flop sandals
tamai : Tongan for “father”
vog : smog created from volcanic gases
HIPPIE SLANG
beat feet: leave in a hurry
blitzed: drunk
boogie: cut out
bookin’: going fast
bread: money
bug out: leave the premises
bummed: depressed
chick: a woman
choice: really cool
chrome dome: a bald man
climb it, Tarzan: an expression of defiance, usually said while giving someone “the bird”
copacetic: very good, all right
don’t sweat it: don’t worry about it
far out: excellent, cool
fuzz: the police
golden: cherry
groovy: nice, cool, or neat
hook: steal
kipe: steal
meat: a term for a man
outta sight: fantastic, awesome
righteous: extremely fine or beautiful
shake it, don’t break it: said to a girl with a wiggle in her walk
Taylor Camp, Kaua’i, 1973
Thresh tossed a cigarette into the water. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The roar of the waves nearly drowned out his words. The six of them were seated Indian style around a campfire on the beach. Thresh glanced around the circle: Blossom, Ash, Goob, Angel, and Reefer. Not their real names, of course. No one here went by real names.
Blossom had her gaze on Ash, and Thresh shuffled on his rock. He knew one way to get her attention. She hated the president. “Nixon is the Antichrist,” he said loudly. “Someone should take him out.”
“Who cares?” Ash lay back with his head propped on a lava rock.
Thresh slumped when Blossom continued to stare at Ash and didn’t even remark on his comment. The sweet scent of roasting marshmallows mingled with the salty breeze. The blue sky was a curtain above their heads. He tried to think of some other way to capture her attention.
“I still haven’t seen Elizabeth Taylor,” Blossom said, clasping her arms around her legs as she sat on the sand. “Her cousin owns this place. You’d think she’d come visit sometime. She’s so fab.”
Thresh smiled at her. “No one is more fab than you, Blossom.” As fragile as an orchid, she could sit on her black hair. Dressed in a bikini with a ginger blossom in her hair, she looked a little like Annette Funicello. Thresh watched as she fingered the pearl peace symbol on her necklace.
Taylor Camp had been their home for three months. They had inherited the tree house above his head from a couple of residents who got busted for growing weed. The tree house had real glass windows and doors. It looked right up the Na Pali Coast. The camp used to be on the beach, but the winter rains kept washing it out, so the residents took to the trees. About a hundred residents wandered in and out of camp on a regular basis. Thresh never wanted to leave here.
Ash stood. “I’m bored. Let’s go for a swim.”
Thresh glanced around. The others were all too stoned to move, but a swim sounded good. “I’ll go. Want to come, Blossom?”
She shook her head. “I’m going to take some clothes to the stream and wash them. Have fun.”
Her dark eyes seemed illuminated from within. He watched her sashay across the sand, stepping lightly from one black rock to another.
“Shake it, don’t break it,” Ash called after her.
She turned and blew Ash a kiss. Ash grabbed at the air as if he’d caught it, and Thresh wanted to puke. Was something going on between them? “You going to stand there staring all day?” Thresh snapped.
Ash flipped Thresh the bird. “Climb it, Tarzan,” he said. He stalked toward the ocean.
If Thresh weren’t so angry, he wouldn’t brave the surf, but he plunged after Ash, anger giving him power against the waves. The blue-green water enveloped them, and they kicked out in long strokes to get past the breakers. In the next moment, a riptide grabbed hold, and the waves tugged Thresh down. His lungs burned, and he fought the panic that had him in an even tighter grip. The rocky bottom rushed past in a kaleidoscope of brightly colored coral, golden sand, and black lava rock.
The next instant, the churning waves slammed his body onto the bottom. Rocks battered Thresh’s chest, and streaks of red ran through the water. Which way was up? He was too dazed to even watch the bubbles rise as they hissed from his lips. He had to breathe! His lungs burned with a nearly unbearable desire to draw in oxygen, but it was impossible to break the undertow. Swimming parallel to the beach, Thresh quit fighting and let the riptide have its way. Ash tumbled past, his eyes wide, and a silent scream opened his mouth. The two collided in the churning current and grabbed instinctively at each other. The tide tumbled them around, then just as suddenly, it released them.
Thresh bobbed to the top like a seal. He took a huge lungful of the best air in the world and stared up into the blue sky. He floated there a moment and tried to collect his thoughts, but he felt another tug, and before he could react, the current took hold again. He managed one gulp of air before the rip
tide took him under again. Fish rushed past, or rather, he rushed past them. He had a vague impression of parrot fish.
His lungs began to burn again. The current propelled him toward a rocky finger that jutted into the water. If the water rammed him against the rocks, he’d die. Thresh dove deep, trying to break the current’s grip. The riptide seemed to weaken, then it took a stronger grip and hurled him toward the rocks, then down along the bottom. He realized Ash was on the same course he was. They rushed through a narrow tunnel so dark they couldn’t see anything, adding to the sense of impending doom.
Then the grip of the undertow relaxed. Feeling as though his lungs were about to explode, Thresh kicked up and up, past glowing plankton on the walls, past a colony of shrimp, until his starving lungs could take no more. He inhaled water just as his head broke into the air. The shock of salt water in his lungs made him gag and sputter, but he managed to keep from vomiting.
Ash bobbed up beside him and flailed in the still water. “Where are we?”
“Some kind of cave.” The ceiling hovered only about five feet overhead. The water was as clear as a goldfish bowl, and plankton lit the area enough for Thresh to make out Ash’s face. Thresh glanced around. “Hey, look at the coral. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Far out!” Ash dove to the bottom and grabbed a piece of the lapis lazuli–colored coral.
Thresh knew enough about coral to realize they were looking at some of the rarest and most valuable coral on the planet. Aware his mouth was gaping, he closed it.
Ash bobbed to the surface with a piece held up in his hand like a trophy. “Blossom will dig this.”
Thresh’s heart clenched at the mention of her name. “I thought you were gone over Angel.”
Ash shook his head. “I already plucked that flower, man. And she’s knocked up. Can you dig it?”
He was always on the make. Blossom would be his next victim. Unless Thresh stopped him. Blossom deserved better. “Hey, dude, do me a favor and lay off her,” he said.
Ash widened his eyes. “Jealous, Thresh?”
Ash’s smirk sent a white-hot wave of anger over him. Thresh launched toward him, his hands digging into Ash’s throat. Gulping in a lungful of air, the hated face went under the water against the coral reef on the bottom. After the ride on the current, Ash struggled very little, and it was over quickly.
Thresh stared at the body floating in the water. He backed away as Ash’s body bobbed closer. Then the sea foamed, and dorsal fins emerged from the water. He gasped and flailed back as three tiger sharks zoomed around the enclosure. They were easily twenty feet in length, and he saw a flash of teeth from the closest one. He expected to feel those sharp teeth at any moment as they circled, but the scent of fresh blood pulled them away. They homed in on Ash’s body. It was tugged around in the water, then disappeared under the surface. In moments, the sea boiled blood red.
Thresh knew the sharks would not be satisfied with Ash’s body for long. They would destroy him next. He slammed his eyes shut and waited to feel the first shark’s teeth tear into his leg. His heart thundered in his ears, and he prayed to Kanaloa, the god of the sea. Time stretched out until he thought he would howl. Then the sound of churning bodies in the water faded, and he opened one cautious eye. Then the other.
What was that he heard? Whispers of voices seemed to radiate from the walls, but the sharks were gone. It was a sign. Kanaloa, Hawaiian god of the ocean, must have intervened. Thresh answered the voices: “I hear, Kanaloa. I hear and serve.”
Chapter One
Life had a way of offering up morsels of pleasure when she least expected it. Leilani Tagama held on to the rail of the old truck as it bounced along the perimeter of the coffee grove. The neat rows of trees resembled laurel with their glossy leaves. The sun shone as usual from a blue bowl overhead, with light rain expected this afternoon, again the usual. The slope of Mauna Loa on the Big Island of Hawai’i boasted a perfect climate for the sweet coffee cherries ripening on the trees.
Her aunt Rina stopped the truck and hopped out. Josie Oliver got out on the other side. Both women still wore the trappings of their glory days—long hair, sandals, and an attitude that could stop an attacking shark. Strands of white streaked Rina’s black hair, plaited into a braid that reached her waist. She wore a wild shirt in hot pink and green with a long, flowing pink skirt. Well-worn Birkenstocks let her toes, covered with hot-pink polish, peek out. A beaded headband stretched around her head.
“You get the Sonic Bloom started, Lani. I want to beat feet today and take the afternoon off.” Rina opened the back of the truck.
Josie stepped in front of Rina. A big-boned woman with hair more gray than blond, she wore a red aloha shirt and matching bottoms that made her look as if she still had on pajamas. The Birks she wore were the same style as Rina’s.
“Let me get that, Rina,” she scolded. “That thing will squash you like a gecko.”
“I’m a big girl,” Rina protested. She moved out of the way. “You spoil me, Josie.”
Lani smiled as she watched the two women. They put her in mind of Laverne and Shirley from the old TV show. Josie hauled out the equipment, then Lani went to flip it on. A high pitched sound similar to birds chirping began to broadcast. Her aunt strapped a tank to her back and began to spray fertilizer on the coffee trees.
“If I didn’t see this with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it,” Lani said. The sound made by the Sonic Bloom caused the stomata in the leaves to open up and take in more nutrients. The coffee beans coming off these trees were huge, fancy grade with a wonderful sweet flavor. In the year Lani had been here, she’d seen the growth firsthand. The yield since Rina had started using the system had doubled.
“We hate pesticides,” Rina said. “We were willing to look at anything organic.” She gave Lani a glance. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, Lani.”
“I’m thankful for the job.” Lani grabbed another tank and joined her aunt and Josie.
“You’ve got a righteous green thumb. The coffee trees love your touch as much as your orchids do.”
This kind of praise soothed Lani’s soul like cool aloe vera on a burn. She’d done so few things right in the last few years. “Thanks, Aunt Rina. I made a big sale yesterday. I’ve been commissioned to design an orchid display for the Home and Garden Show in Kona next year.”
Josie clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful, Lani! You deserve the recognition that will bring.” Her warm glance of approval washed over Lani’s face before Josie turned and went back to mixing more natural fertilizer.
“Do you need to cut back on your hours?” Rina asked. A worried frown crouched between her eyes.
Lani’s smile faded. Her aunt needed her. “I’ll be fine.” She clutched her arms. “I’ll work on the design in the evenings.”
Josie shot a quick glance at Rina. “You’ll do no such thing. We can spare you in the mornings. Work on your designs while you’re fresh.”
Rina nodded, but the frown remained. “Josie is right. We’ll manage. You’ve always wanted to get into landscape design. We won’t stand in your way.”
Lani shuffled her feet and looked down. Their reassurances only made her feel worse.
Her aunt gave a slow smile. “Joey asked me about you yesterday.”
Lani’s cheeks flooded with heat. “You don’t have to get me wrapped up in an entanglement. I’m not going anywhere.”
Rina’s frown returned. “Lani, you’re being stupid. God doesn’t expect you to swear off men.”
“Men have been my weakness in the past. I’m trying to start a new life.” Her hand crept to her stomach. Men were the least of her sins.
“Such silliness,” her aunt huffed. “I believe in God, but your ideas are extreme. You can still have fun.”
“Fun is what got me into trouble a year ago,” Lani said.
She saw a car approaching fast, dust billowing from the tires. “Looks like Willie.”
“I was expect
ing him,” her aunt said in a grim tone. She straightened and put one hand on the small of her back.
The car stopped, and a man with graying hair got out. The grass stains on his khakis matched his green aloha shirt. Lani always thought he looked a bit like a grizzled monk seal—all hanging jowls and wrinkled skin. He strode with purpose across the green lawn.
His scowl darkened when he saw Rina. “You’ve done it now, Rina. What right do you think you have to keep me from growing what I want on my own property?”
“Maybe I should get the gun,” Josie whispered.
Gun? Lani grabbed Josie’s arm, latching onto it with tight fingers. “Call the police if he’s dangerous,” she said softly. “Don’t get a gun.”
Though the man towered over her tiny form, Rina didn’t back down. “If you had your way, there would be no natural coffee trees left on the island. Only those freaks of nature you want to plant.”
Willie’s sigh eased out, almost too soft to hear, and his gravelly voice softened. So did his gaze. “It’s progress, Rina. Look, I don’t want to be your enemy. You know how I feel about you—how I’ve always felt about you. I’ve tried to explain it to you. I’d think you’d be in favor of trees that produce decaffeinated beans. No chemicals will be needed for that process anymore.”
“And how are you going to stop them from crosspollinating with my trees?” Rina asked. “Look, Willie, I don’t have time to argue over this. I’m not pulling the injunction, if that’s why you’re here. All you care about is making the most bread. You don’t care about what’s right for the island.”
“Bread,” he scoffed. “Grow up, Rina, and use today’s language. We’re not in Taylor Camp anymore.”
“You sold out, Willie. You’re just like our parents used to be—all hep on seeing how much you can hook from the other guy. No regard for the environment, the natural order of things. I’m disappointed in you.”
He flicked a finger toward her feet. “At least I’m not still wearing psychedelic clothing and sandals. I get my water from the tap and not from a distillery.”