9 Lives!: Nine 'Unputdownable' Books by Master of Suspense Mike Wells by Mike Wells & Farsheed Ferdowsi & Devika Fernando

Author:Mike Wells & Farsheed Ferdowsi & Devika Fernando [Wells, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Books for Readers Who Like James Patterson, Sidney Sheldon, Nora Roberts and Stephen King Publishing Company
Published: 2019-04-02T23:00:00+00:00

5

It was almost an hour before Dr. Kramer and Mitch returned in the pickup truck. The sun had risen, along with the temperature. The windsurfing school had been closed, so they had just driven on to Orangestad, the main city on the island, and stopped the first person they saw who was “driving a pickup truck and looked like he could use some extra dough,” according to Mitch. This turned out to be a friendly, leather-skinned Aruban man named Rudolph who looked as if he were in his sixties. He quickly accepted Dr. Kramer’s offer to rent the pickup truck for an hour for the sum of $50. The only problem was, he insisted on coming along, even when he had been offered Dr. Kramer’s jeep as collateral. Rudolph was no fool—he had noticed the rental stickers on the jeep and had decided not to take any chances. So, he had followed them back to the house, where they dropped off the jeep, and then all three of them came to the beach in the truck.

Rudolph also wouldn’t allow them to drive the truck more than a few yards off the dirt road, claiming that it would “easy get stuck.” He spoke English even more poorly than the policemen had. Rachel thought this was fortunate, because he seemed very curious about why they wanted to take the “float” that had washed up on the beach back to their house.

“We’re going to put it in the garden,” Dr. Kramer explained, grunting as he lugged it across the dunes aided by Rachel, Mitch, and Lance. Rudolph did not offer to help. Apparently, the $50 only covered the use of the truck. He just sauntered alongside them in the sand, looking utterly dumbfounded by it all. It really didn’t matter, though—the object really didn’t weigh very much. Rachel imagined Kurt inside of it, asleep, in a fetal position, for some reason, jostling around.

“Garden?” Rudolph said. “What to? I mean say, why?”

Dr. Kramer didn’t answer him.

“No comprende,” Rudolph muttered, staring at them, shaking his head. Americans were very odd people, his wrinkled face seemed to say.

When they reached the truck, he offered the courtesy of lowering the gate for them. They set one end of the “acorn,” as they began calling it, on the truck bed and slid it forward until it made contact with the cab. It barely fit, only a couple of inches to spare.

Dr. Kramer sat in the front with Rudolph, Rachel and the boys in the back with the acorn. Mitch and Lance had to hold onto it to keep it from teetering around—because its sides were slightly convex, it did not rest flat against the truck bed. As they bounced along, Rachel kept glancing up and down the road, hoping no one else saw what they were doing. But it was so early in the morning there was no one out except a couple of joggers who didn’t seem to pay them any attention.

“Back up to the garage door,” Rachel heard Dr.

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