by Kathi Daley
“Not this little girl. The only thing I dreamed about when I was a kid was being a cop.”
“I guess that fits what I know about you.”
“By the way, we’ve been so busy I still haven’t had the opportunity to tell you about Tommy.”
“Tommy?”
“A little boy I found in the barn last night. I saw a light and went out to investigate. Tommy was hiding in the new foal’s stall, clutching a kitten.”
I explained everything that had happened, including the fact that Tommy was now staying with my mother, as we entered the dark interior of the white building that housed Luke’s horses.
“How’s my guy?” I asked the huge black stallion with a gentle disposition who trotted over to me the minute I entered the barn. I handed him an apple, which he refused to take. “What’s wrong with Lucifer?” I asked. “He always wants an apple.”
Luke frowned as he ran a hand over the horse’s belly. “I’m not sure. He’s been off his feed for the past week. I had the vet check him and he didn’t find anything wrong, but I’m starting to worry.”
I ran my hand along Lucifer’s nose and looked him in the eye. “What’s going on, big guy? Do you have a tummy ache?”
The horse nodded his head, but I suspected it was more in response to my petting than in answer to my question.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I’ve changed his feed and I’m going to keep an eye on things. He’s lost weight, but not so much as to be overly concerned. If I have to I’ll call my dad. He usually has good suggestions when I’m at a loss.”
“I know you don’t always get along with your dad, but he sounds like a good guy.”
“He is,” Luke confirmed. “We don’t really see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s an intelligent, honorable man.”
“I’d like to meet him someday.”
Luke left Lucifer’s stall and headed to the next one in the row. “My mom is pretty much insisting that I come home for Christmas next year. I know it’s only March, but she’s already recruited my sisters to join her in pressuring me into complying.”
“Pressuring?”
“They’ve each called twice, and if I know them, they’ll keep doing it until I commit to coming. The reality is that once my sisters get involved it’s only a matter of time until I give in, and I did miss this past Christmas with the family. I think the real selling point, though, is that both of my sisters will have new nieces for me to meet by the time Christmas rolls around. I’d very much like for you to come with me.”
“To Texas?”
“Yes, to Texas.”
“Where they keep all the cows?”
Luke laughed. “There may be cows, and I know you aren’t a fan, but there’s also family and small-town traditions and, if we’re lucky, perhaps even snow.”
I would like to experience a white Christmas, and if my relationship with Luke was to continue I supposed it would be good to meet his family. It would be strange not to be home for Christmas, but my brothers had jobs and families that didn’t always allow them to join the family celebration, so it wasn’t as if I’d be the only one missing. And the traditions Luke had described to me last Christmas really had seemed charming and very different from the ones I’d known. But we were talking nine months from now. A lot could happen in nine months. “Can I think about it?”
Luke shrugged. “Sure. Just let me know.”
He sounded indifferent to my answer, but I could tell he was hurt I hadn’t jumped at the chance to visit his family and hometown. Luke changed the subject and I let him. We chatted about inconsequential things such as the weather and the upcoming surfing competition as he finished his rounds.
Every time Luke brought up Texas it reminded me that our relationship existed in a vacuum that, in my own mind, was bound to come crashing down the moment he realized his life was really back home in the state of his birth.
Chapter 7
Thursday, March 23
After discussing the situation over coffee, Luke and I had decided to focus our energy on finding Komo, who I was increasingly worried about. Our plan was to visit his food truck this morning and if he still wasn’t there, we’d have breakfast at one of the other ones in the hope of picking up clues as to what had been going on with him prior to his disappearance.
We discovered that Komo’s truck hadn’t appeared for the second day in a row. Luke and I sat down at one of the picnic benches nearby to discuss what to do first. There were five other food trucks that usually parked in close enough proximity to Blaze Whitmore’s to be impacted by his burger-for-a-buck campaign. I already knew Buddy and Bobby didn’t know where Komo was, although Bobby had told me about seeing Komo with members of the pack. We could check with them again, especially because I hadn’t spoken with Buddy, but we decided to start our search with Zipper, who I remembered had gotten into a fistfight with another vendor, Sarge.
Zipper was a rough-looking man who appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. He was tall, with long gray hair he wore tied back in a ponytail. His eyes were so dark as to appear black and he had a long scar down one side of his face that began at his temple, crossed his eye, and ended up just above his chin. The wound had left a zigzag mark surrounding the original wound that looked a lot like a zipper and obviously served as the basis for his nickname.
“What can I getcha?” Zipper asked when Luke and I walked up to his window.
“We’re going to share a chili burger,” Luke answered.
“Fries?”
“No, just the burger,” Luke informed the man who wore a white tank top over faded jeans.
“Guess you heard about Blaze Whitmore?” I jumped in.
“Yeah, I heard. That’ll be five-fifty.”
Luke paid him while I searched for a way to engage him in conversation. I didn’t know Zipper well, although I’d bought food from his truck from time to time. He’d been working his truck for at least a decade and while he had many regular customers, he didn’t seem to have a lot of friends. He was a stoic sort who tended to keep his thoughts to himself. I remembered hearing he’d spent a good amount of time in prison before coming to the island, but I didn’t think I’d ever known what he’d done to land him there in the first place.
“A lot of folks aren’t sorry the man is dead,” I added, trying to draw him out. “In fact, it seems most people I’ve spoken to are pretty happy with the way things have worked out. I even heard some people on the beach saying that whoever fed Whitmore to the sharks should be considered a local hero.”
“I don’t know that I’d call the man who freed us from burgers for a buck a hero, but I can’t say I’m broken up about having him gone. Do you all want onions on your burger?”
Luke and I said we did.
“Did you hear that Komo is missing?” I asked as we waited for the burger to cook.
Zipper narrowed his dark eyes. “Yeah, I heard.”
“There are some people who are saying he’s missing because he’s hiding out,” I added. “They say Komo killed Whitmore and is running from the HPD. The thing is, I don’t think Komo would commit murder.”
“Guess you never know what a man is capable of when he’s pushed. Cheese?”
“Yes, please,” I answered. “I guess it’s possible Komo could have killed Whitmore—he certainly had reason to—but my gut says he didn’t do it. I know you have an ear to the ground. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything?”
“Nope.” Zipper passed the chili burger through the window. “Napkins are on the side.”
The chili burger looked delicious, even though it was only ten o’clock in the morning. Luke and I took it back to the picnic bench.
“Zipper isn’t exactly talkative this morning,” I whispered.
“Maybe he’s the guilty party,” Luke whispered back.
“Maybe.” I glanced at the truck, where Zipper was serving another customer. “I wonder if we can goad him into tellin
g us about his argument with Sarge.”
“Might be easier just to ask Sarge,” Luke pointed out. “He seems to be chattier. Zipper is pretty stoic even when he doesn’t have something to hide.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe we should have just started with Sarge. Now we’re going to have to eat two breakfasts.”
“Sarge has a breakfast burrito with SPAM, rice, and eggs that’s pretty good,” Luke said. “We can share one of those. Two half breakfasts make a whole.”
“That sounds good and I guess I’m still hungry.” I looked out toward the water, which was sparkling under the bright sunshine. It would be an optimal day for surfing. Other than my short session on Tuesday, before I was interrupted by the sharks, I hadn’t found the time for surfing in over a week. I could hear the waves calling me. “It just occurred to me that I’m spending my day off searching for a man who may simply have gone on vacation. Do you think we’re wasting our time?”
Luke glanced out over the water, where hundreds of surfers were waiting for the next wave. “Do you really think Komo could have decided to take a couple of days off?”
I sighed. “Probably not. And if he had he would have mentioned it to someone.”
“Have you spoken to Jason today?”
“No. I should call him to make sure he hasn’t already located him. In retrospect I guess we should have done that before we wasted the morning looking for someone who might already have been found.”
Luke placed his hand over mine. “We didn’t waste the morning. I’m enjoying spending time with you, and we needed to eat anyway. Call Jason and see what he says. If he still hasn’t found Komo we’ll go see Sarge.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Jason’s cell number. It rang five times before he answered.
“Hey, Lani. Can I call you right back? I’m in the middle of something.”
“Yeah. No problem.” I hung up and turned to Luke. “He’s going to call me back.”
Luke stood up. Picking up our trash, he placed it in a nearby trash can. When he returned to the table he offered me his hand. “How about we take a walk while we wait? It’s a beautiful day and I wouldn’t mind burning off at least part of that burger before we head over to see Sarge for breakfast number two.”
I took Luke’s hand and let him pull me to my feet. It really was beautiful, and while I would have preferred being in the water, walking along the beach trail hand in hand with Luke wasn’t a bad way to spend some of it.
There were many things I loved about Luke: his welcoming smile; his kind heart; his integrity; his giving nature. To my mind, he was a well-rounded, super man who was always there when I needed him, but one of my very favorite things about him was his easygoing way of approaching life.
“I suppose I should check with my mother to see how she’s doing with Tommy,” I said as we paused at the top of the bluff.
“Has she found out anything about his background?” Luke asked.
“Not as of last night. He hasn’t been reported as a missing child or a runaway and he isn’t currently in the foster care system. He keeps telling Mom he has no mother and his father is gone; he either really doesn’t know more than that or he’s choosing not to elaborate. Mom has friends who work with Child Protective Services who are helping her figure this whole thing out, but I imagine if they can’t locate his parents or legal guardian, at some point he’ll be forced to enter the system as a ward of the state. Mom is still hoping to become his foster mother if that happens, but the last time I spoke with her, she still hadn’t discussed things with my father. I have to admit that concerns me.”
“Your dad won’t be on Maui forever,” Luke said. “At some point he’ll come home and find out what’s going on whether she tells him before that or not.”
“I think it’ll go over better if she brings him into the situation sooner rather than later. Secrets in a relationship are never a good idea.”
Luke frowned. “Of course I agree with that.”
I turned and put my arm around him. We walked on in silence for several minutes before Jason returned my call.
“What’s up?” he asked when I answered.
“I was just calling to see if you ever located Komo.”
“Nope. We’ve checked his home several times, and all his favorite haunts. We’ve talked to his friends. It’s like the guy disappeared.”
“So he didn’t mention to anyone that he might be going away for some reason?” I verified.
“Not as far as I can tell. I hate to say this, but the fact that he disappeared the day after a man everyone knew he’d threatened actually turned up dead makes him look guilty.”
I sighed. It really did. “What if he isn’t in hiding because he killed Whitmore? What if it’s because he knows he’s in danger?”
“Why would Komo be in danger?”
“If he didn’t kill Whitmore, it looks like whoever did is trying to frame Komo. Maybe the person doing the framing wants to make sure Komo isn’t able to prove his innocence.”
Jason let out a long breath. “Komo needs to come in. If he needs one, we’ll get him a good attorney. If he’s being set up to take the fall we can protect him. Nothing good will come from his trying to deal with this on his own. We really need to find him.”
“I’ll keep looking. If I find him I’ll let you know.”
I hung up and glanced at Luke, who had a strange look on his face. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just worried about Komo.”
“Yeah, me too. Let’s go talk to Sarge. The sooner we find Komo the better the odds are that Jason can help him.”
“Maybe Sarge will be a bit more talkative than Zipper,” Luke said encouragingly as we turned around and headed back to the trucks.
As it turned out, Sarge, a man in his midsixties with a military haircut and tattoos on both arms, was in a talkative mood, as we’d hoped. We ordered the breakfast burrito, which turned out to be to die for. Unfortunately, the chili burger we’d recently shared was sitting like a block of cement on my stomach, making me wish we’d begun our morning with our second stop.
I opened the conversation in the same way I had with Zipper after Sarge brought our order to the table where Luke and I were waiting. “Guess you heard about Blaze Whitmore.”
“I heard. The guy was bad for the island and I’m happy to see him gone.”
“My brother told me they suspect Komo.”
Sarge’s nostrils flared as he answered. “Everyone knows Komo didn’t kill no one. Sure, Komo was madder than a cat with his tail caught in a screen door that Whitmore was putting us out of business. We all were. Who could blame us? But there’s no way Komo would off the guy.”
I paused. “I agree you all had a legitimate beef with Whitmore and I don’t think Komo did it either, but Komo’s disappearance makes him look guilty. Do you have any idea who did it?”
“If you ask me the guy was into something other than food.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It just seems he had more going on than cheap burgers. If I had to bet I’d say carving out a territory for himself in the food truck business wasn’t his end game.”
“What else do you think he had going on?” I asked.
“Selling burgers at a buck, even if he was able to upsell some of his customers, he had to be losing money. Maybe burgers weren’t the only thing he was selling.”
“Drugs?” I asked.
Sarge shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe it was something else. Don’t know for certain. I talked to Shredder about it this morning when he stopped by and he had a similar observation.”
“You spoke to Shredder?”
“Yeah. I just said that. He came by with Riptide for breakfast.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Not really. I mean we chatted, but it seems like you’re interested in something specific.”
I let out a short breath before replying. “I’m not
after anything specific. I just haven’t seen Shredder for a while and wondered what he’d been up to.”
“He had his board, so I’m guessing surfing.”
I smiled. ‘Yeah. You’re most likely right. You know me, worrywart Lani. So other than Shredder, have you discussed your drug theory with anyone?”
“One of my regulars thinks Whitmore was running a bookie operation out of his truck and Zipper thinks he was hooked in with organized crime. Of course Zipper doesn’t know what he’s talking about half the time.”
“I heard the two of you got into a fight the other day.”
“You heard right, although the beef between me and Zipper has nothing to do with Blaze Whitmore and his burger scheme. No, me and Zipper go way back, and our problems go way back too.”
“I see. Do you know why Zipper thinks Blaze was involved in organized crime?” I asked.
“Let’s just say the man’s clientele was a lot more ethnically and socioeconomically diverse than you’re likely to find at the average food truck.”
“So even though he was selling his burgers for a buck he catered to upper-class customers?” I clarified.
“I’m not saying he didn’t have legitimate customers looking for a deal on their lunch, but we all noticed there were some pretty nice cars parked near his truck. Guys who drive Jags usually aren’t interested in dollar hamburgers.” Sarge turned toward his truck as some teens walked up to the window. “I gotta go make a living. Enjoy your meal.”
“So what do you think?” I asked Luke after Sarge had moved away. “Do you think Blaze had more going on than just selling cheap burgers?”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know, but it would explain things. Sarge is right; at a dollar a burger he had to be losing money on every one he sold. If he had something else going on on the side and was just using the food truck as a front that could explain things.”
“I wonder how we can find out for sure.”
Luke drummed his fingers on the table. It appeared he was deep in thought. “I really don’t know. Whatever Whitmore had going on is over now that he’s dead and his truck is closed. Any customers of the side business will have moved on. If we’d suspected something earlier we could have struck up conversations with his regulars, but it may be too late for that.”