Bon Bini Beach: A Thriller Read online

  “I put my bikini on underneath my clothes just in case—did you?”

  Dominique shook her head. “We don’t have any towels with us. Let’s explore the area first to see what’s around here.”

  Looking at her friend’s shorts and short-sleeved T-shirt, Lilian asked, “You are wearing sunscreen right?”

  “What do you think?” Dominique responded, putting on her sunglasses. “SPF 30! Otherwise, I can start peeling off my skin tomorrow. You know how fast I burn.”

  They walked next to the fence on something that somewhat resembled a path. They noticed that the barriers created by the tall hedges worked well: from the outside you couldn’t see the houses in the resort at all.

  When they came around the bend, they could see the ocean. Instantly, the distant hum in the background became recognizable as the waves hitting the surf. The sky was clear, not a single miniscule little cloud to be found, the ocean water was deep blue, and the sand on the beach bright white. It was a breathtaking scene.

  “Wow, this almost doesn’t seem real,” Lilian said. “I have never seen the ocean like this before, only in TV commercials.”

  If Dominique was impressed at all, she certainly didn’t show it. She didn’t say a word, but increased her pace in order to bridge the distance to the water faster. Lilian stayed close behind her.

  Once they arrived on the beach, they looked to the left and to right. There were barely any people on the gorgeous white beach. Just a few scattered beach towels occupied by sun worshippers. There were some adults and children playing in the surf and a bit farther on there was what looked like a slightly inexperienced surfer testing his skills in the surf. In the distance, they could see a few boats in the water.

  Lilian shook her head in disbelief. “Unbelievable—just think about how crowded the Dutch beaches get and compare it to this. It’s so much more beautiful here. … This place should be crawling with tourists.”

  “I see a cabana over there,” Dominique pointed out. “Let’s go have a drink there.”

  Moments later the two women were seated on wooden bar stools at a wooden bar with a roof made from palm tree leaves. Behind the bar was a large, dark-skinned man with gold front teeth. With a beaming smile, he poured them two glasses of Coke, which he had filled to the rim with ice already.

  “Would you like a nice shot of rum in that?” he asked, in a rather lilting form of Dutch.

  “No, thanks,” Lilian said.

  “We’re not drinking until later on,” Dominique added.

  They turned their backs toward the bar and each enjoyed small sips from their cold drinks.

  Suddenly the barman’s grinning head and gold teeth appeared in between them. “So, where do two gorgeous women like yourselves go to drink something tonight then?”

  Dominique stared straight ahead. “Well, definitely not here if that’s what you mean.”

  “Of course not!” the barman called out, as if that was obvious.

  “When the sun goes down, the Bon Bini Beach Bar closes down. No doubt, ladies! Then everybody makes their way to Oranjestad. That’s why I want to know where I can find you tonight.”

  “We don’t know yet,” Lilian said, obviously uneasy. She didn’t know what to make of this pushy barman. Or was this just innocent Aruban friendliness?

  “My name is Jordi,” the barman explained, while he lowered himself back down behind the bar and pointed to a tall, dark man seated in the shade at the other end of the bar. “And that’s my buddy, Germaine.”

  Germaine made a silly hand gesture, bowed in their direction, and said, “Pleased to meet you.”

  The two girls mumbled a greeting back.

  “Germaine and I would like to invite you both to go with us,” the barman continued. “Later, after Bon Bini Beach Bar is closed, we can show you Oranjestad. Nobody knows the city better than we do!”

  Dominique looked at her friend and saw by the look on her face that she had no interest in joining these two men.

  So, she turned to the barman and asked, “How far is it from here to Oranjestad?”

  “With my car—not even five minutes.”

  “And walking?”

  “Walking? Who goes there walking?” the barman asked, smiling wide at his friend.

  “How long?” Dominique insisted.

  “I don’t know—fifteen minutes maybe?”

  Dominique nodded decisively. “Good, then we’re walking.”

  She put down her unfinished glass and walked off. Lilian followed her quickly.

  The two men at the bar watched them closely as they walked off and spoke with their heads very close together.

  11

  “What a dick,” Lilian grumbled. “A guy like that sees a woman and can only think about one thing.”

  “Two things,” Dominique corrected her, smiling. “I caught him staring at your breasts the whole time.”

  Laughing out loud, they continued to walk. There was a path from the beach to a small road. There were no road signs, but in the distance they could see houses.

  “That must be Oranjestad over there,” Dominique concluded. “That must be right, because we have to keep the sea on our right side—I noticed in the map of the resort.”

  “We could just call Leroy and ask him to drive us to Oranjestad,” Lilian suggested.

  But Dominique shook her head. “Nah, I think it’s a little tacky to ask that guy to show up for every little thing.”

  As they continued their walk, Lilian was sorry she had worn her flip-flops. They weren’t nearly as comfortable on longer walks as her sandals, of which she had brought two pairs. For a moment, she contemplated suggesting that they head back to the house, but one glance back and she realized they had already walked too far for that. When she spotted a huge lizard running between the rocks along the road, she decided to walk a little closer to Dominique.

  Oranjestad turned out to be farther than they had expected, because the houses they had seen were part of a small village located about halfway there. There were a few small, short houses. But they didn’t see a soul. A dog came running out of an open door and began barking at them from a distance.

  “Nice and comfy here,” Dominique grunted.

  At the same time, they noticed a very old man and woman seated on a small bench in the shadow of one of the houses. The couple looked at them with great interest but did not greet them. Because she was afraid the old people had heard her comment, Dominique increased her step.

  “What a dump,” she said as they left the small village behind them. “I could never live there.”

  Lilian looked at her from the side. “Well, you’d be living right by the beach, on a Caribbean island, and the city is nearby. How bad could that be?”

  “Way too quiet,” Dominique thought. “I prefer to live in a city.”

  Lilian said, laughing, “Listen to you! You grew up in Bloemendaal!”

  “Originally, yes,” Dominique countered. “But I could never trade Amsterdam for a village now. But we are going to turn Aruba upside down tonight!”

  The first suburb of Oranjestad appeared right behind a big hill. Soon, they reached the center. The houses there gave the same sleepy impression as they had in the village. There were only a few stores. But that changed quickly as they got closer to the city center. There, the houses became more colorful, the streets had more green, and everything felt livelier.

  “This is more like it!” Dominique said, satisfied.

  “Shall we have a drink first?” Lilian suggested.

  They chose a terrace that had a view of a nice square. In the distance, they could see the masts of the boats in the marina.

  A server dressed in black and white came to take their order, and, moments later, delivered their two glasses of white wine, which came with ice cubes. Dominique wasn’t bothered by this, but Lilian fished the ice out of her glass before drinking.

  They took in their surroundings. Apparently, they had not yet reached the heart of the city as th
ey had seen it from Leroy’s taxi, because that seemed to consist solely of hotels, restaurants, and bars. Here, there were a few stores, a few bars, and a lot of residential houses in all shapes and sizes.

  A black guy and a girl sat right behind them, making out so intensely that the waiter came by discreetly and asked them to take it down a few notches.

  Dominique smirked at her friend. “I thought anything goes around here? Now I see we may need to hold back later.”

  “Yeah, well, you will have to!” Lilian responded, laughing. “I’m much more discreet.”

  “You, more discreet? I’ve heard otherwise!”

  Suddenly insecure, Lilian tried to gauge her friend. Did she really mean what she said? Sometimes she couldn’t tell. She didn’t like the idea that her friend knew things about her that she would rather keep to herself. Or possibly, maybe, tell her later.

  12

  At the end of the afternoon, it became busier in and around the square. They grabbed one more white wine and then strolled into the city, until they finally came to the part of the city center that they recognized. There were hotels everywhere, and music came from a variety of restaurants and bars. Boys on scooters and in convertibles whistled at them. Dominique seemed to enjoy the attention and smiled back at everybody. Lilian was a bit more reserved.

  Most restaurants had waiters standing outside, trying to talk potential patrons into coming inside. The two friends let themselves be persuaded by a friendly Italian waiter from a pizzeria who promised them a culinary sensation, and spoke in a mix of English, Italian, and Dutch.

  The pizza was tasty indeed. Lilian ate almost all of hers, and Dominique ate a little more than half of hers, after which she focused her attention exclusively on her salad and glass of red wine, which was constantly refilled by the overattentive waiter.

  When they were having their coffee with Amaretto, the young waiter took it upon himself to pull up a chair to their table and sit on it backward. He put his chin across his folded arms on top of the back of the chair.

  “So, ladies, did you enjoy your food?”

  They both agreed it was delicious.

  “You’re from Holland, right? How long have you been on Aruba?”

  They explained that they had only just arrived and had only been on the island for a few hours.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  Dominique and Lilian exchanged a quick glance.

  “We’re going to explore the city a little bit,” Dominique said. “Probably grab a drink somewhere.”

  “I would love to meet up with you two somewhere after I finish work,” the waiter suggested enthusiastically. “By the way, my name is Gino, and my best friend, Alessandro, also works here in the kitchen. I’m sure he would want to join us, especially if I tell him how beautiful you both are.”

  Lilian was not into this idea at all. And because it looked like Dominique hesitated and was actually considering saying yes, Lilian gave her a swift kick under the table.

  “Ouch!” Dominique said and gave her friend an infuriated look. After which she quickly said to the waiter: “Thank you for the kind offer Gino, but we’ve already made plans with our friends. I’m sure they wouldn’t like it if we showed up with two strange men.”

  Visibly disappointed, Gino got up. When he returned a while later with the bill, he said flatly, “There you go, ladies. Enjoy your evening.”

  The two friends pretended not to notice the obvious change in his tone. They paid the bill and left him a small tip, thanking him politely as they left the pizzeria.

  They giggled as they stepped on to the sidewalk, where Lilian tripped over a skinny little dog, which ran off yelping and fearing for its life.

  “There sure are a lot of dogs around here,” Dominique commented, while she looked around. “Do you think they’re all street dogs?”

  “No idea,” Lilian answered with a slight hesitation. “I just hope they don’t keep getting under my feet.”

  A young man walked toward them from the terrace of the bar across the street and spoke to Lilian in English. “I saw that you almost fell. Are you hurt? Do you need any help?”

  “No, thanks,” Lilian said quickly. Hurriedly, she pulled Dominique along with her and left the man behind them.

  His friends on the terrace laughed at him loudly.

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about any lack of attention here,” Dominique concluded, obviously flattered.

  Lilian tilted her head and looked at her. “Were you worried about that then?”

  “No, not at all, but it’s always fun to experience it.”

  Casually, they strolled past the many bars, which, almost without exception, all had outside terraces with loud blaring music, predominantly salsa and merengue. After a while they picked a terrace to sit down. But before they even had a chance to order anything, a guy with a mustache wearing an open, unbuttoned shirt stopped at their table and asked if he could offer them a drink.

  Before Dominique could say anything, Lilian answered: “No, thanks. If we wanted company we would have let you know.”

  The guy backed off.

  Dominique raised her eyebrows and looked at her friend. “What in the world is wrong with you? Maybe that guy was the love of your life? More importantly: he wanted to offer us a free drink.”

  “There is no such thing as a ‘free’ drink,” Lilian answered, shaking her head. “Those types of guys always expect something in return.”

  Dominique smiled. “Well, you’re probably right about that. But that’s not always a bad thing.”

  “Pff. Well, I’d like to decide that for myself, thank you very much.” Lilian motioned to the waiter. “What would you like, Do?”

  “I’ll have another white wine, and I don’t mind if they put ice in it.”

  13

  “Listen Lil, I can speak poppy … Papiamento! Bloeki zanul patoeta habam!” Bursting with laughter, Dominique let herself fall back into her chair. A man’s arm caught her.

  Lilian looked at her friend with great concern. Over the course of the night, they’d had a lot wine. Not to mention the Amaretto. On top of that, Dominique had taken a few shots of tequila, because a friendly American guy had insisted on it.

  It had been dark for a few hours now, and they had landed in a bar without a terrace. Despite the fact that it was overcrowded, a few heavily tattooed men were playing darts in the back of the room. There was no room at the bar, and so they were seated at a small round table, in the middle of a group of working students.

  They had met the group of students at the previous bar, where they had sat on the terrace, singing along to all the hits blaring from the speakers at the top of their lungs. The students earned their vacation by working at a few of the large American hotels along the harbor. The three girls were all American, and of the four boys, two were Canadian and two American.

  One of the Canadians—Dave, a handsome guy in his early twenties with a very infectious laugh and a long lock of hair across his face—was clearly attracted to Dominique, because he made sure to stay close to her. He was also the one who had put his arm around her.

  The other Canadian, Alan, only had eyes for Trish, a freckled girl who had her red hair up in a bun. They had their heads close together and were constantly whispering to each other and exchanging kisses here and there.

  Amanda, a blond girl in a tight T-shirt who had just announced that she had been a cheerleader during her high-school years, was the center of attention. She presented her various opinions with real conviction, but only half the crowd was paying attention to her. Latoya, a dark-skinned girl, who Amanda had pointed out as her BFF with a real over-the-top gesture, paid the most attention to the former cheerleaders monologues.

  The other two American students, Jerome, who wore glasses, and the very muscled Chuck, had taken a seat on each side of Lilian and bombarded her with questions. What was it like to live in Holland? Was she in Amsterdam often? Was it true they had naked ladies in the windows an
d that you can buy drugs everywhere? Why didn’t she come and study in the US? Was it true that Europeans were far more open-minded about sex than Americans?

  At first, Lilian had trouble following their English, especially because Chuck had an accent that she had never heard before. But along the way, the conversation became easier for her to follow, helped in part because the Americans never stopped ordering alcohol.

  She was having a great time and had no problem with staying longer, but she could see that Dominique was now very tipsy. The only way not to get swept up in this high level of alcohol consumption was to drink from her glass slowly and to not pay any attention to the increasing row of full glasses put in front of her.

  Dominique had clearly been a lot less conservative in her drinking, especially not when the tequila bottle, saltshaker, and small plate with slices of lime came. She participated in the ritual a few times in a row. Lick the salt from her hand, gulp down the glass of tequila in one gulp, and then quickly bite into a slice of lime. Her eyes were tearing, but she just kept on laughing. Mostly because Dave, who had also joined in the fun, encouraged her enthusiastically.

  When Jerome excused himself and went to the restroom, Chuck demanded all of Lilian’s attention. He had read a story at school about Hans Brinker, the little boy who had stuck his finger in a hole in a dyke and saved all of Holland. Now he wanted to know if this was a true story. Lilian had to admit she wasn’t sure.

  Chuck gave her a serious look. “I always thought it was a story about sex, you know? The boy sticking his finger in that dyke … And you know, because it’s a Dutch story.”

  She began to laugh. “Oh, and you think all Dutch people are sex fiends?”

  “Well, I hope so!” He tilted his head and grinned. “I hope to find out real soon.”

  “In your dreams!” she said, almost offended. “But, hey, I’m not worried, because I heard that all American boys are virgins when they marry.”

  For a moment Chuck seemed dumbfounded, but then he began to laugh again. “You’re not like most other girls are you? An American girl would never say anything like that to me!”