Restless Waters Read Online Free PDF

engrossed in conversation that neither took notice of me. It was the black-and-white pit bull by their side that gave my presence away. Fifty pounds of pure muscle jumped up and began to charge in my direction. Fortunately, Spam had a whole lot more creampuff than Cujo in him.
    Jake had stumbled upon the pooch shortly after we’d moved to Haleiwa. The dog had appeared to be abandoned and bedraggled. His ribs had poked through his skin, he’d walked with a limp, and his eyes had been lackluster and sad. Since that time, Spam had been nursed back to health until he was stocky and strong. Perhaps a little too much so.
    These days he boasted powerful jaws and a thick muscular neck that held up a head the size of a brick. Spam’s cropped ears stood straight at attention like two little horns, while his whip of a tail tapered to a sharp exclamation point. His devilish appearance cleverly belied his sweet nature.
    However, if there was ever a candidate for doggy Valium, Spam certainly had to be it. He had the odd habit of accelerating to full speed and bashing head first into whatever stood in his path. At the moment, that turned out to be me. Spam came close to knocking me off my feet as he excitedly jumped up and began to lick my face. And just like most men, he hated to take no for an answer.
    “Spam, that’s enough. Down!” Santou called out to him.
    The dog immediately left me and trotted back to his master.
    “Hey, chere. Where have you been? We were just about to start dinner without you.”
    Walking over, I leaned down, and gave Santou a kiss, figuring we should share equally in Spam’s sloppy affection. Kevin said nothing, but continued to drink his beer slowly as he gazed off into the distance.
    Kevin O’Rourke was a buddy from Santou’s past, a ghost that had flitted in and out of his life—one that I’d only recently met. From what I had gathered, they’d known each other years ago in New Orleans. After that, Kevin’s background became suspiciously murky.
    I’d been told that he’d served in the military, and then had traveled the world. Maybe so. But as far as I was concerned he’d picked some mighty unusual places to visit. Hot spots such as Afghanistan, El Salvador, Lebanon, Iraq, and the Philippines. In other words, he wasn’t your average tourist. The only personal item on display in his room was a photo that obviously had been taken years ago. It showed a much younger Kevin in front of a hut, beneath a sign that read SCHOOL FOR JUNGLE SURVIVAL TRAINING . My guess was that it hadn’t been a course offered by Club Med.
    Though he liked to brag about the numerous languages he spoke, Kevin would never reveal what they were, or exactly how many. I’d have gladly written the guy off as a con artist and jerk. However, Santou wouldn’t let me. Instead I could only assume that he’d either been with the CIA or had worked as a paid mercenary—neither of which he or Santou would confirm or deny. The only things I knew for certain was that Kevin was now “retired” and that he annoyed me immensely.
    I also wasn’t convinced that he was the best influence on Jake. Or maybe I was jealous of the growing amount of time they spent together. The problem was that the housing market on Oahu was both exorbitant and tight. That gave us little choice. If we were to rent, we’d have to reside with at least four other people in a reality version of the old TV series Friends .
    Our problem was solved in an odd twist of fate. Kevin’s girlfriend had decided to split for greener pastures just as we’d arrived. Kevin had a great place and wanted to share expenses. We needed somewhere to live, and the price was right. It was a match made in renter’s heaven—otherwise known as how to make do in Hawaii.
    “Today was great, chere. Kevin brought me some beat-up surfboards, and I’ve been learning a new airbrush technique with cut-out stencils. Wait till you see what I’ve done. Remind me to show you the boards