Read Online Jungle Fever Bundle by Hazel Hunter - Free Book Online

said, hitting the door with the palm of his hand. “Dammit! Dammit!”  
    Still on his knees, he leaned his forehead against the metal. How was he going to get to the airport? He looked up. He needed a diversion. There were so few people on the plantation, they couldn’t cover everything.  
    Just then, Mrs. Juntasa coughed. Though he checked to the right first, George wasted no time. He stood and went to the front of the Jeep. Mrs. Juntasa was already sitting up. Without hesitation, he planted the heel of his shoe in her forehead. She hadn’t even had time to look up as her head snapped backward and she hit the ground hard.
    That would keep her for awhile.
    He ran to the back of the Jeep. Each of them was equipped with an extra gas can strapped to the back. He checked left and right. There was no one. The red can sat on a metal platform extending from the bumper. He quickly released the canvas strap over the top and picked up the can. It felt full.

    • • • • •

    Clark charged into George’s room, muscles pumped and ready. Though he’d hoped to find George, that wasn’t going to be the case. George was nowhere to be seen–but his suitcase was.
    “Left in a hurry,” Clark muttered.
    Could the cuttings still be here?
    Clark couldn’t help but feel a small hope. He immediately upended the suitcase on the bed. The contents spilled into a pile and he threw the suitcase to the floor. Clothes, a pair of shoes, socks, underwear–nothing useful. He quickly went back to the suitcase and opened each zipper on the luggage. In the outermost pocket, he found a plane ticket for the return flight, still two days from now. So, he apparently didn’t think he’d be caught. Clark crumpled the paper in his fist. Though he stared at the pile of belongings, he no longer saw them.
    It had all been a pretense. There were no investors that would save the company. There was no future for Peterson Rubber. If something seemed to good to be true, then it probably was.  
    He thought of Jean.
    He’d actually fallen for her–hard. He shook his head and grimaced. Even now he could see her face, remember the feel of her lips. She’d been perfect–so much like Linda and yet not. In fact, the more he’d been with Jean, the more different they seemed. For the first time since Linda's death, he’d managed to stop thinking about her. Instead, he’d thought of Jean and also the investor audit. He shook his head again.
    “All a lie,” he muttered.
    He must have been desperate to have been fooled so badly. As he blinked, the pile on the bed came into focus. It was time to finish his search and head out to help Annan.
    He stalked to the bathroom. On the sink there was the usual travel assortment: a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, and a razor. On the counter next to it, there was a black toiletry travel kit, partially open. Clark grabbed it and emptied it on the tile. Several items tumbled out and he quickly ran his hand through them, spreading them out. Aspirin, shaver blades, a hotel soap, kleenex, antacids, and…a bright orange prescription bottle. He picked it up. George Liew, methylenedioxymethamphetamine.  
    “Forgot your prescription, George,” Clark quietly sneered.
    He scowled down at it. Wait a minute–a methamphetamine? He read the label out loud.
    “Methylene Dioxy Methamphetamine.”
    MDMA?
    “Ecstasy?” he whispered, frowning.
    George was taking ecstasy ? What in the world for? This kind of thing was popular in Bangkok at rave parties. Though Clark had never been, he had a hard time picturing George Liew at a rave party with a wild crowd of twenty-somethings.
    Clark twisted off the cap and shook a couple of tablets into his hand. George and a methamphetamine. Why does a thief need his mood altered? Like a shot of liquid courage maybe? Except MDMA wasn’t named ecstasy for nothing. Ecstasy is what it promoted.
    Why would George want ecstasy?
    Wait. He stared hard at the pill in his hand.  
    On the plantation