Sins of the Mother

by B K Johnson

  “Thank God I practiced shooting different weapons in different circumstances at the range. If I didn’t know how to handle a gun as well as I do, I’d be up the proverbial creek,” Tommy thought to herself.

  These ruminations helped keep her mind bent to freeing herself, instead of focusing on the painful slice on her right wrist, and her almost limp left arm. It had done its job, and was spent in the process. Tommy knew if she didn’t address the wound right now, she would soon turn faint and bleed to death. She took her right hand and lifted her left arm up to stop the bleeding. Bending her head down, and lifting the material of the sheath up to her mouth, she ripped off a length of cloth to use as a tourniquet. Using her teeth and her right hand, she wrapped the tourniquet around her upper left arm, and knotted it with her fingers. “That should do for the time being,” she congratulated herself.

  Using mostly her right arm, but asking the uplifted left to assist just a little, Tommy wiggled around in the chains and managed to move them sufficiently to free up her neck. She threw the chain off, and felt immensely better. Now to her feet. She spread them as far apart as she could, and took aim with the Colt. It didn’t matter to her if she had to struggle with lengths of chain around her ankles. That was better than shooting her own foot. It took two blasts of the gun before that chain would break. Free at last, Tommy got up and limped over to Dave’s side, the chains on both of her feet dragging behind her and impeding her progress.

  She still carried the gun in her right hand, and counted the shots that had been fired from it. Loke had shot once, then the accidental discharge that freed her left arm, and finally she herself had used up three bullets. That left only one, which was not sufficient to blow Dave’s chains away. So she knelt by his side and comforted him, stroking his forehead and promising him they would be okay. She gently removed the duct tape from his mouth, and swore “I will make it up to you, Dave” If not for me, Loke would never have targeted you. I am so terribly sorry.” With these last words, she wept.

  Her tears fell on Dave’s face, and he opened his eyes and looked into hers. “Not your fault,” he gasped. “I’m sorry. My words. She used them to bring you. I’m so stupid.”

  Relieved to find that Dave was conscious and could actually speak, Tommy replied, “Are you in a lot of pain? I couldn’t stand to watch her puncture your feet, and it looked like she’d done it several times before. And your hands, omigod! Will you ever be able to play the piano again?”

  Dave was an accomplished pianist, along with his other talents. He had once played with the Honolulu Symphony Orchestra, on a beautiful Steinway grand piano. Tommy had been there to hear him play “Clair de Lune”, one of her favorite pieces by Debussy. The entire audience had risen to their feet, and given Dave a raucous standing ovation for several minutes. Now Tommy’s concern for his hands caused Dave to give a little smile, a touch of his former self. “Let’s just get out of here first, okay,” he sighed.

  “You got it,” Tommy nodded.

  She left his side and walked ungainly to Loke’s body. She looked down at the fallen temptress and shook her head. “Such a waste,” she commented. Tommy had to roll her over a little in order to gain access to the pocket in her white skirt, where Tommy thought she’d seen her drop the keys to the chain locks still binding Dave. They weren’t there. Keeping the gun loosely held in her right hand, and maintaining her left arm in a slight upward sling position, Tommy searched the garage, looking high and low for the missing keys. She wasn’t about to leave Dave here and go look for help. And her cell phone was still in Loke’s car, so she couldn’t place any calls. She wished she’d brought it with her, but her sense of danger hadn’t been strong enough to force her to bring it, or her own gun, with her.

  Just as she was about to give up, she spied the keys on the floor. They must have fallen out of Loke’s pocket when she fell. They’d bounced a little, and had been hidden by Leleo’s foot. Cursing herself for not having thoroughly searched the area around both bodies, one dead and the other alive but dead to the world, Tommy picked up the keys and made her way back to Dave.

  “Go!” he groaned. “Get help. Come back.”

  “No,” reiterated Tommy. “I will not leave you chained up with the wicked witch at your feet. I’m going to use your chains and tie her up. I can’t use mine because I blasted the locks. I want you free right now. I can’t stand one more minute of seeing you lying here helpless on this damn floor. Now shut up and let me work.” Tommy saw that the effect of her words was to shame Dave, who turned his head away from her.

  Mad at herself for not realizing how sensitive he would be to his dilemma, weak and helpless before her and the woman he’d mistakenly fallen in love with, Tommy shut her own trap and undid each of the locks. As she freed him from each lock, Dave tried to move. First his arms, and then his legs. The pain in his extremities forced him to wince with each tiny movement. Tommy shuddered with sympathy pains, ignoring the throbbing ache in her own arms.

  Just as Dave was starting to sit up, and Tommy had her left arm behind him for support, Tommy heard a loud “grrrrrrr”, as if some enraged animal had entered the garage. She didn’t even have time to turn her head to look, when a wide-awake and fierce Loke threw herself at Tommy, forcing her off balance and to the floor. She had landed on Tommy’s left side, smashing her damaged arm into Dave’s chest. Tommy’s blood gushed anew, and the makeshift tourniquet slid off her arm.

  Weakened, bleeding, and in incredible pain, Tommy tried to fend off the attack. Loke’s skin had broken on both her forehead and under her chin from Tommy’s assault, but she was otherwise in full possession of her strength. Both women struggled wildly for gun, which had fallen out of Tommy’s hand during the assault. Loke purposefully took advantage of Tommy’s injuries, using her left knee to pin Tommy’s wounded arm against Dave’s chest. Dave was using all his energy to try to get up, to help in some way, but Tommy was being smashed against him. He couldn’t believe the amount of blood smeared all over his chest.

  Seconds later Loke stood, having successfully secured the gun. Tommy was faint, and lay down on Dave, her left arm limp and useless. At least she could protect him in death, she thought, as she looked up at Loke and said, “You’ve only got one bullet. You’d better decide right now where you want to put it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Rod was convinced they were at the right house. They had walked back and forth, checking out the unassuming residence. Manny wasn’t absolutely sure this was where Tommy could be, even though the address was 462 Ponokai in Kailua. And that squared with the little information Tommy had been able to provide Rod just hours ago, as well as with the records Manny’d been able to obtain. Still, the house looked too unassuming and innocent.

  He just wanted some other form of identifying the place before breaking in. Since neither he nor Rod were law enforcement, they didn’t have to follow all the rules. But there would be a great deal of damage done to the dwelling by breaching its walls. If they were wrong, there’d be hell to pay. He could be sued, and his small detective agency couldn’t handle that. Rod didn’t have to worry, thought Manny, since he was rich. He could hire a battery of lawyers that would literally paper to death any attorney hired by the homeowner.

  Aware of his friend’s dilemma, and grateful for his help to get them this far, Rod offered to pay for any defense or damages Manny might sustain as a result of their undertaking that night. Manny smiled ruefully at Rod, and said in pigeon English, “I get dat in writing, bruddah Rod? I no like ask, but you know how it is.”

  “Sure,” Rod replied, and promptly signed a piece of paper he took from Manny’s briefcase. “Here, make it say what you want,” he assured Manny.

  Once the paper work was out of the way, they reviewed the house plans. Pete had researched everything he could find, and located a renovation and soundproofing permit for the garage that been issued to the owner, one Maile Kaulili. But he learned that Maile Kaulili was already deceased when the permit was gr
anted last year. And cementing of steel rings into the cement didn’t sound to him like it was for a Hawaiian music room, like the application said. Suspicious, he’d made a copy of the plans of the house and emailed them to Manny as soon as he’d told them about the house. Both men wanted to be prepared to face the worst, whatever that was.

  A cold finger of premonition drew its way down Rod’s back. He somehow knew they couldn’t wait much longer. He was so afraid for Tommy now, and couldn’t understand why. Chomping at the bit, and not being able to be restrained by Manny’s caution, Rod looked at the vehicle parked on the sidewalk in front of the unassuming home. Had Tommy ridden in that?

  The brainstorm of an idea electrified him. Taking his own cell phone out, he dialed the number on the one he’d loaned Tommy. Hearing a very slight ringing sound not far away, he followed it, nearing the vehicle. The windows were rolled slightly down, and he could hear the distinctive bell tone he’d programmed into his spare flip phone.

  “See, I told you,” he said to Manny. “That has to be my phone. Let’s break down that door, now!”

  “You could be right,” Manny responded, “but would you just dial it one more time so we can make sure?” Rod hung up, waited a few seconds, and then hit redial. The phone, under the seat where Tommy had left it, rang once more.

  Now, Manny looked over the house plans, and decided that the garage was where they needed to focus, although entry would have to be through the front door. Rod quickly agreed, as if he could see what was happening there.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he urged Rod.

  Rod needed no urging. He was already racing to the door, and prepared to bash it in with his fists. Manny, not operating with as much adrenaline as Rod, but quite a bit more familiar than Rod with this kind of procedure, brought out his crow bar and joined Rod at the lanai.

  Manny knocked loudly, and waited for a response.

  Rod was antsy, and sensed that something really bad was taking place inside. It was imperative to him that they not waste any more time. He slammed his own fist as hard as he could, and yelled, “Open up. Tommy, if you’re in there, just shout.”

  Inside, there was dead quiet. Neither Loke nor Tommy heard the banging and yelling just outside the soundproofed garage. Unafraid, and ready to spring at Loke as soon as she felt the impact of an expected bullet, Tommy glared straight into Loke’s eyes. Loke stood deceptively still, with the weapon still pointing at Tommy’s heart. She looked like she was thinking, and indeed, she was.

  First, though, Loke wanted to make sure Tommy understood just what an incredible foe Loke was. She taunted Tommy, saying “You know nothing, do you, you ignorant bitch? I can reload this gun in an instant. My ammo is right here,” she said. “And I am an excellent shot, so wherever I want this bullet to go is where it will enter.”

  “You aren’t even aware that I am the one who shot Samantha Gage, are you?” Loke continued.

  Tommy sat up at that. “How could, or why would you kill Samantha? she asked. “What was she to you?”

  Loke responded, “I just knew I had to keep you busy with your caseload while I made the final preparations in Hawaii and got Dave interested and to my home to play the part of the sacrificial lamb. I’d seen you investigating the Gage woman, and chatted up her ‘friend’ at Gina’s. That little bitch Daniella was so angry at Samantha that she actually paid me $2000 for the woman’s murder, which is why she is so willing to take responsibility for her death now. Daniella also gave me her set of keys to the Gage mansion so I could frame Geoffrey. That was a piece of cake for me, and I’d convinced Daniella that I not only knew what I was doing, but that I could save her ass as well. It was easy to set up and complete my mission after that. I can’t help it that the sniveling little brat regretted Samantha’s death and confessed, now can I?”

  All the during this diatribe vilifying both Samantha and Daniella in order to keep Tommy distracted, Loke was replaying her options in her head. She well knew that if her last bullet didn’t kill Tommy immediately, she would be facing a raging force she might not be able to fend off. Tommy, while grievously wounded, was free of the chains. And reloading the gun quickly did not appear to be an option.

  Already exhausted from her battle with Tommy for the Colt, she really didn’t want to fight the amazing strength emanating from this weakened and bloodied foe. Anybody else would have given up, but not Tommy O’Malley. Especially not with her dear friend Dave lying helpless on the cement. One arm ripped apart, gushing blood and totally useless, a head bleeding profusely, Tommy was still a viable threat to Loke’s life.

  Just then, a glint of satisfaction showed in her eyes. Her mouth formed a mild grin as she moved the weapon slightly to her right and aimed it directly at Dave.

  “Do you want to see him die, you self-righteous bitch?” she warned Tommy. “Well, do you?”

  Tommy looked back and forth from the barrel of the gun to Dave’s emaciated and damaged body, still lying prone on the floor. There was no way he could move out of sight of the gun. Even if she threw herself over him, the bullet could still go through her body into his.

  And Tommy knew, just like Loke did, that Tommy would rather take the bullet herself then see her dear friend slaughtered right before her eyes. Tommy bore tremendous guilt for the torture Dave had already endured, and all due to just being her friend. She would never be able to live with the guilt of his death. Tears streamed down her face, and she accepted her fate. At least she could buy time for Dave to live through this nightmare.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked Loke. “I’m already mortally wounded and bleeding to death,” she exaggerated. Why don’t you just leave me here to die, and escape while you can? I have friends looking for me, you know, and you will not be able to get away from them that easily. You’d better get a head start.”

  Little did Tommy know that just that instant Manny and Rod had broken through the front door of the house. Rod was racing into the kitchen, itching to rip the door to the garage off its hinges.

  Laughing maniacally, Loke taunted Tommy. “As if I care,” she replied. “Once you are dead, I’ve avenged my son as best I can. But maybe his vengeance would be better served by killing your best friend and forcing you to live in lifelong sorrow, if you survive your wounds. I have had to live without my son for all of these years, and I can tell you, it pains you in ways you could never begin to understand.”

  “Oh, I can understand,” Tommy nodded. “I lost my own child, and know that pain.”

  “But your child did not live long enough to kill herself, did she? Nor were you betrayed by your kumu hula.” With those words, Loke finger began pulling back on the trigger, with the gun still pointed at Dave.

  Tommy flung her body as best she could over Dave’s torso, throwing her good right arm up and over his head. She closed her eyes and heard what sounded like a roaring gunshot in her ears. Seconds later, she was checking to see where the bullet had hit her body.

  The door to the garage had been locked, for whatever reason. Rod grabbed the crowbar from Manny and whaled it against the door with all his might. The massive sound of the door bursting open hurt his own ears. The sight Rod saw when he ran through the door was a confused and frightening picture.

  There, chained to the cement floor, was Dave Lee. Rod took in the massively bruised and swollen toes and fingers, and grimaced. His eyes swept to Tommy, whose body was every bit as bloodied as Dave’s. He couldn’t see her eyes, since her body was lying on top of Dave’s, with her head bent forward into his shoulder and her arm cradled over his head.

  They were both so still, they looked dead. Farther to their right, an obviously dead man laid with a bullet wound in his head. And standing straight in front of him was a beautiful but obviously deranged Polynesian woman, who had a severely bruised chin and forehead. She held a gun and the barrel of the weapon swung to point at Rod’s own head.

  “Down,” shouted Manny. He had pushed Rod aside, and he, too, was appalled at what his saw. But
he also had a weapon, and his gun was pointing directly at the small, but dangerously armed woman. For she had not had time to shoot at Tommy, or at Dave. It was only the loud metallic sound of the crowbar smashing the doorknob of the garage door that had sounded like a gunshot to Tommy. And that warned Loke of the rescue.

  Without a word, and in one second’s time, Loke swiftly shifted the barrel to her temple and pulled the trigger. The last bullet pierced her brain, and she fell to the floor. Now she cradled in death the kumu hula both she and her son had loved, but she herself had killed.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  “Are you feeling better,” Rod solicitously asked Tommy.

  “I’d be doing a whole lot better if I could get out of this damn bed and walk the hell out of this hospital on my own steam,” Tommy seethed. She was totally unused to being laid up in a hospital and didn’t like it one bit. Even when she’d given birth to her beautiful daughter she’d only stayed long enough to pop her out and have them cut the umbilical cord.

  She had an irrational fear of hospitals, having read too many Robin Cook books. His tales of medical malpractice haunted her even now. These two days she’d spent in the ghastly pink Kaiser Hospital in Honolulu she’d hardly slept, absolutely sure that one of these friendly, smiling nurses was a diabolical killer just waiting to slip too much morphine into her IV drip. And morphine, to a recovering alcoholic, was already forbidden.

  Tommy had lost so much blood by the time Rod and Manny had found her and Dave that she’d had to have transfusions. She had passed out in that horrid garage and hadn’t even been aware that Rod had run to her side to check her pulse and see if she still lived. He’d taken one look at Tommy’s still bleeding body draped over Dave’s and had been convinced that the chaotic scene spelled Tommy’s death. He was castigating himself the whole time thinking he could have done better and gotten there earlier. When he had tenderly touched her carotid he’d been humbly grateful to feel the beating, erratic pulse, weak though it was.