Chapter 1--The Catfight: Do you remember how to get off this island? Festerman asked his associate, David Nacow. Not exactly, Nacow replied as their rented Suburban wound its way along a gravel road. This doesn t look familiar ... probably should have paid more attention on our way in. ... But, hell, it s such a small island. ... We re probably okay. See what you can do with the GPS, Festerman suggested. If we were in my car, I d have no problem. ... I ll take a look ... No need, Festerman interrupted as he slowed down. I recognize this road ... if I turn left here, it ll take us straight to the ferry road. Nacow was pleased by those words. He was having a difficult time figuring out how to use the rental s Garmin. Neither man spoke again until after the ferry attendant had directed them into the front position of lane two. Lights off, Nacow chuckled, reading the posted instructions. They want you to turn your lights off. ... Like it s gonna make a difference. Festerman fiddled around with the switch until he got the headlights turned off. He did leave the engine running. A black Jeep that had been behind them pulled into lane three directly even with Nacow s door. He glanced over as it came to a stop. It was driven by a very attractive Marilyn Monroe blonde bright blue eyes, full red lips, delicious smile, and tight red sweater. She acknowledged his attention with a smile. As he flirted with the blonde a second young woman leaned forward to get a good look at him. When her eyes met Nacow s she flashed a salacious smile and gave him a finger wiggle wave. Most likely in her early twenties, she appeared to be seven to ten years younger than the blonde. Nacow was even more impressed by the passenger. Wow! Look at the muscles on that girl. ... I m joining her gym. The younger girl, a stunning redhead, flaunted a green tank top which not only enhanced the striking hue of her green eyes, it showed off her well-developed upper body strength. This is strictly a business trip, the older man said in a fatherly voice. We re not window shopping. I know, but it never hurts to see what s out there. For all we know they work at Jack s resort. ... And we ll end up running into them tomorrow. ... It is, after all, a very small island. I understand, Nacow said, stealing one more glance at the girls parked next to them. Then, with a big smile on his face, he closed his eyes and laid back on the headrest. What the hell is goin on! Festerman blurted out. The blonde had opened her door and stepped out onto the deck of the ferry. You bitch! she screamed loudly, using both hands to slam her door. She then ran around in front of her vehicle to get at the passenger. Both Festerman and Nacow watched intently. By the time the blonde reached the other side of her car, the redhead had already jumped out, slamming her door with equal animation. The blonde clutched the younger girl by the hair and slapped her not once but several times. You re nothin but a cheap whore! The blonde screamed. I knew you couldn t be trusted. The young redhead tried pushing the blond woman off, kicking her fiercely on the shins several times with her cowboy boots. You re the slut! The redhead shouted back through her tears. That s right! ... You heard me! You might be my sister, but you re nothin but a slut ... you don t deserve him! ... You sleep around with any guy that ll have you. ... He deserves better than you. ... S-L-U-T! That s what you are ... and you know it. Hell! Everybody knows it. ... It s no secret. Fearing the blonde was about to throw a punch with her free hand, the redhead grabbed it. So the blonde released her sister s hair, and drew her hand back into a fist.
Chapter 1--The Catfight: Do you remember how to get off this island? Festerman asked his associate, David Nacow. Not exactly, Nacow replied as their rented Suburban wound its way along a gravel road. This doesn t look familiar ... probably should have paid more attention on our way in. ... But, hell, it s such a small island. ... We re probably okay. See what you can do with the GPS, Festerman suggested. If we were in my car, I d have no problem. ... I ll take a look ... No need, Festerman interrupted as he slowed down. I recognize this road ... if I turn left here, it ll take us straight to the ferry road. Nacow was pleased by those words. He was having a difficult time figuring out how to use the rental s Garmin. Neither man spoke again until after the ferry attendant had directed them into the front position of lane two. Lights off, Nacow chuckled, reading the posted instructions. They want you to turn your lights off. ... Like it s gonna make a difference. Festerman fiddled around with the switch until he got the headlights turned off. He did leave the engine running. A black Jeep that had been behind them pulled into lane three directly even with Nacow s door. He glanced over as it came to a stop. It was driven by a very attractive Marilyn Monroe blonde bright blue eyes, full red lips, delicious smile, and tight red sweater. She acknowledged his attention with a smile. As he flirted with the blonde a second young woman leaned forward to get a good look at him. When her eyes met Nacow s she flashed a salacious smile and gave him a finger wiggle wave. Most likely in her early twenties, she appeared to be seven to ten years younger than the blonde. Nacow was even more impressed by the passenger. Wow! Look at the muscles on that girl. ... I m joining her gym. The younger girl, a stunning redhead, flaunted a green tank top which not only enhanced the striking hue of her green eyes, it showed off her well-developed upper body strength. This is strictly a business trip, the older man said in a fatherly voice. We re not window shopping. I know, but it never hurts to see what s out there. For all we know they work at Jack s resort. ... And we ll end up running into them tomorrow. ... It is, after all, a very small island. I understand, Nacow said, stealing one more glance at the girls parked next to them. Then, with a big smile on his face, he closed his eyes and laid back on the headrest. What the hell is goin on! Festerman blurted out. The blonde had opened her door and stepped out onto the deck of the ferry. You bitch! she screamed loudly, using both hands to slam her door. She then ran around in front of her vehicle to get at the passenger. Both Festerman and Nacow watched intently. By the time the blonde reached the other side of her car, the redhead had already jumped out, slamming her door with equal animation. The blonde clutched the younger girl by the hair and slapped her not once but several times. You re nothin but a cheap whore! The blonde screamed. I knew you couldn t be trusted. The young redhead tried pushing the blond woman off, kicking her fiercely on the shins several times with her cowboy boots. You re the slut! The redhead shouted back through her tears. That s right! ... You heard me! You might be my sister, but you re nothin but a slut ... you don t deserve him! ... You sleep around with any guy that ll have you. ... He deserves better than you. ... S-L-U-T! That s what you are ... and you know it. Hell! Everybody knows it. ... It s no secret. Fearing the blonde was about to throw a punch with her free hand, the redhead grabbed it. So the blonde released her sister s hair, and drew her hand back into a fist.