Free Dead Girl Beach by Mike Sullivan

back door flew open, shocked by the size of the man who jumped out after her. At a low trajectory, the sun exposed a granite face, a grim mouth. Light bounced off the gray, chiseled features in a sudden burst of brilliance.
    Almost before she realized it, the man’s huge paw swung over the top of her head and dropped lower. He had her by the throat now and was squeezing hard, choking her half to death. The loud, thumping sound of her heart tore out of her small, narrow chest. It rippled across the delicate fabric of her red glitter mini and tore off into space. At some point, the man’s other hand flew up like a steel claw and clamped down over her mouth. She could barely breathe. For a wild instant, she was airborne, picked up completely off the ground, spun around, and slammed back down hard on her feet.
    She caught her breath and looked up. Closer now, able to pick up the tattooed tear under his left eye. A look of malice flickered through the narrow slits of his wild, moss green eyes. She screamed. She turned and twisted. She tried to wrench free while his eyes stretched wide in fury and surprise. He shook her like a rag doll and slapped her hard—twice. Wrenching the back door of the car open, he flung her inside, jumped in behind her, and slammed the door.
    Greta Langer sat up front behind the wheel. “Go. Go. Go,” the man shouted at her, like a marine engaged in combat. Greta stomped on the gas, and the car roared off. A few minutes later, she found a side street.
    Inside the car, Suma screamed.

Chapter Thirteen
    Parked at the other end of the street, a wheat-colored Camry was at the curb under the low, overhanging branches of a row of banyan trees. Bram Beckers, wearing a dark, porkpie hat pulled low over his eyes, sat behind the wheel with the air conditioner running. The car parked at the intersection of the highway that ran north and south through downtown Koh Phangan.
    He grinned and checking his watch. With a watchful eye, he calculated the time at just over half-a-minute after she drove by that he turned right onto the highway. He drove in a northeasterly direction through town and followed at a safe distance behind.
    For a while, the woman drove at a measured speed so as not to draw attention to the car. Suma pounded the side window with tiny fists, trying to signal someone, anyone—the woman selling orchids, the man behind the ox cart, the roadside vendor selling barbecued chicken—but no one heard or saw her as the car drove by. Her voice sprang out from a corner of the back seat.
    â€œWho are you?” She shook her head and leaned close to the man. “What do you want?” She felt a rush of adrenaline. The lower part of her stomach churned. “There must be some mistake. I mean…I don’t…”
    The man with the tattooed tear stuck up a hand in front of her face and silenced her. She looked at him. She noticed how he was looking back at her. Smiling, with a sly, sensual expression. His eyes roamed all over her, moving up and down the red glitter mini pushed high above her knees. She tugged at the dress and sank back into the seat, feeling her skin crawl. The seat barely collapsed under her small body.
    At the edge of town, the woman stopped for a signal light. A sign outside the window read:
Leaving Had Rin
. The man’s finger pressed over his lips, warning her to keep quiet. The Honda Accord’s powerful engine whispered softly under the huge hood. Traffic waited behind them.
    The light changed, and the car began to move. They drove under the signal light and gradually increased speed. Greta drove at a measured speed. She wanted to avoid someone following her. She’d hug the coast and drive northwest as far as Baan Tai, then double back along Baan Khai Road. She would skirt past Laluna near the Venus Resort and ditch the car in a secluded spot back in the foothills off the road. They would take the short trek overland into Kontee and walk up