Restless Waters Read Online Free Page A

myself slipping and sliding on what seemed to be an endless patch of mud. It was all Rasta Boy needed to make headway.
    Come on, come on, come on, I silently urged, willing myself to speed up.
    Though I managed to increase my stride, it still wasn’tquite enough. I was left with no other choice but to steal Rasta Boy’s earlier move. Hitting a particularly good stretch of mud, I coasted along on it as fast as I could. Then I flung out my arms and hurled myself at him.
    Success! I grabbed on to his braids and jerked hard, bringing him to a stop. Only he wasn’t yet ready to give up. My fake agent twisted around and attempted to punch me.
    I quickly feinted to the left, pivoted on my heel, and thrust a hand against his chin with all my weight. Thank God, Krav Maga, the self-defense system I’d been trained in, had become second nature. I didn’t have to think, just react, as he was thrown up against a tree and temporarily knocked out. But our skirmish had attracted another problem. Gunshots now began to erupt uncomfortably close by.
    “Hold your fire, Mr. Keoki,” I called out to my unseen assailant. “Everything’s all right. I’m a federal agent.”
    However, it didn’t get the response for which I had hoped.
    “Yeah, I’ve heard that line before and I’m not falling for it again,” came his snappy retort from somewhere in the darkness. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, and that’s not to show up on my property anymore.”
    Great. Just what I needed to deal with—another obstinate, pissed-off citizen.
    “The boy that came to your door was an imposter. He’s here with me now, and the situation’s under control. Stop shooting and I’ll show you my badge,” I tried to reason.
    “I’ve already seen one too many of those tonight. Why should yours be any different?” he responded, punctuating it with more gunfire.
    My foot throbbed, my face hurt, and I wasn’t in the mood for all this. In addition to which, I was hungry andtired. That’s when bad things can happen to distracted agents. It was time to bring this lunacy to an end. I pulled out my .38 and quickly fired two rounds into the air.
    “I’ll tell you only once more that I’m a federal agent. Your wife called and asked for my help. Now throw down your gun and come out where I can see you. Otherwise, my target won’t be the sky next time, and I warn you that I’m an excellent shot.”
    A man in his sixties with the torso of a walrus, powerfully built arms, and two double chins walked through the foliage and came into view. His clipped gray hair was coarse as a scrub brush, his face so tight and round that not a wrinkle showed on his skin. The problem was that Walter Keoki maintained a tight grip on his rifle.
    “I’m not kidding, Mr. Keoki. Throw your weapon down right now!” I advised, aiming my .38 at him. “If you don’t, I’ll be left with no choice but to shoot.”
    Walter Keoki stared at me for a moment, and then slowly did as instructed.
    “All right. Now I’m going to reach into my pocket and take out my badge.”
    I did so, along with my ID, and tossed both items to him.
    Mr. Keoki carefully examined them. “They look different from what that other fellow had,” he grudgingly admitted. “But you can’t blame me for thinking you were a trespasser. After all, what kind of federal agent travels around with a skateboard and a couple of bags of lizards?” he inquired, pointing to the articles at my feet. “Besides, I don’t see anyone else here with you.”
    Damn!
    I quickly whirled around, but Rasta Boy was gone, along with the sack he’d been holding. Mr. I. M. Kuhl had proven true to his moniker, coolly slipping away during all the shooting.
    “So, is this what you call having the situation under control?” Walter Keoki questioned, beginning to stand a little taller. “And there’s still the problem of damage that’s been done to my property. Somebody’s going to have to pay for that.”
    I wondered if the