by Nicole Snow
All in all, it looks like any other fishing fleet out of the Honolulu metro, but it’s not.
The other companies lining the shore don’t have as many ships in dock. And they’ve mostly converted to smaller, sleeker vessels. Maintaining these colossal near-tankers should’ve become too expensive over a decade ago based on the rising costs of fuel alone on the islands.
Of course, Stanley Gerard and then his son found another source of coin.
Tearing myself away from the window, I press on.
There’s one office left at the very end of the hall, the one I’ve been waiting to see the most.
RAYMAN GERARD, PRESIDENT sticks to the door in large block letters.
I hold my breath, trying the handle, hoping I won’t have to resort to Plan B if it’s locked.
Nope. The door swings open easily, and I step inside.
It’s lavishly furnished with modern chairs, a work desk, and shelves and file cabinets reaching to the ceiling. The other offices were too, but this one looks used.
There’s something odd about it, too. I pull Valerie’s map out of my pocket, mainly to confirm my instincts. The offices are laid out exactly as she’s drawn them, and so is this one, but it’s also different.
It’s got to be the size.
It should be bigger.
Not by a lot, but by several feet at least, along the back wall.
I squint in that direction. It looks normal, full of shelves laden with ledgers, books, and maps.
I examine each shelf, every section where the shelf walls connect to each other. Sure enough, there’s one that’s not solid. Not connected to the rest.
Searching inside the shelves, my fingers graze a mechanical button, and I punch it down.
Watching closely, I see the movement of the latch at the same time it clicks. I ease the shelf forward, away from the wall, expecting an opening.
There’s not.
Instead there’s a narrow door with a fingerprint reader.
Shit.
I don’t dare try overriding the reader, not without knowing more. There are too many ways things could go south if it trips an alarm or sends a remote notification to Ray.
Sighing, I take out my phone and snap several pictures for research, then push the shelf back in place.
If I can’t find a way to hack the fingerprint scanner, I’ll have to get my hands on a set of Ray’s prints. I’m sure I could pick them up from the office, but I don’t have a kit with me. I wasn’t prepared for this twist.
My ears tingle. There’s movement in the hall, somebody’s footsteps, a door creaking open.
Dropping the phone in my jumpsuit’s deep pocket, I pick up the gallon jug of bug juice and use the wand, spraying the carpet so the room smells like the rest of the place.
Then I make my exit, walking back to the entryway.
“Done already?” the woman behind the desk asks. Sammie, I think.
She’s middle-aged, with dark hair, glasses, and wearing a polo shirt with the King Heron Fishing logo, the same bird on Savanny’s tag. I wonder if she’s the same lady who answered the phone when Val called weeks ago and was patched through to Ray.
“Yeah,” I say. “Quick and easy job.”
“What about outside? Do you know where to spray?” She laughs slightly. “I mean, besides around the building? Stanley always wanted the area all the way down to the docks covered. He hated those chickens like they’d personally crapped in his beer. I was kinda surprised when you showed up, after the fit Ray threw the last time you guys were out there.”
I shrug. “That wasn’t me.”
She stands up. “I know it wasn’t you. It was the other guy. The red-haired one. He’d been coming here for years, up until that last visit, when Ray chewed his head off for getting too close to this stuff stacked up on the docks.”
I nod, wondering if it’s just another one of his senseless outbursts or something more.
Walking around the desk, she continues. “Follow me. I’ll show you around. Frankly, I’m glad you’re here. Feels like old times. Stanley would’ve been three shades of red knowing this place wasn’t being sprayed regularly. There was a rooster by the front door when I came in this morning, bowed up and crowing his lungs out. Guess it’s a sign that you showed up today, right after that.”
“You know what they say: no coincidences,” I tell her, following her out the door.
“They’re mean, too. Believe me, after being chased around a couple times by those things, I’m starting to figure out why old Stanley hated wild chickens so much,” she says, walking around the side of the building.
I stay one step behind her, spraying the foundation as I walk, hoping my gallon jug doesn’t run out. I didn’t bring a backup.
“Things sure have changed since he died,” she says, more to herself than me. “No one’s hardly ever in the office. The phones don’t ring, the fishermen are unhappy, we’re losing accounts left and right.” She waves a hand at a small shed.
I walk over and spray the perimeter of the building, noting the well-used pathway down to the docks.
“But Ray must know what he’s doing...even though he’s barely around lately. I mean, the money keeps rolling in!” She flashes me a stiff smile as we start walking along the stone path.
There’s a lot of shit I’d love to say to that, but I keep my mouth shut, spraying as we go.
“Sorry to be all awkward. I shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s so dang quiet around here, I almost let that nasty freaking rooster inside this morning, just so I’d have someone to talk to.”
I smile and nod. “Yeah. Must get awful boring.”
“So boring, especially compared to how it used to be.” Sammie waves a hand at the docks. “You can spray all the way to the water. They always did for Stanley. Some guys were a little hesitant to use their stuff by the water—I think the regulations say you shouldn’t—but...he had a way with bending the rules. God bless him.”
“Right. Thanks for showing me around.”
She laughs. “Thanks for breaking up my day! I’ll let you get back to it. You can drop the slip off with me after spraying the rest of the foundation, and we’ll get your check in the mail.”
“Actually, that just gets mailed now. New policy.”
She sighs. “Everything changes, doesn’t it?”
I watch her walk back to the building and disappear through the back door.
Then I make my last round to the water, which is where my sprayer runs empty. Hoping she can’t tell, I continue waving around the wand, all the way back up the path and around the other sides of the building before climbing in Davis’ Jeep and driving away.
As he lets me off at Pearl Harbor, I notice Val standing just outside the visitor center.
I’m sure my ma and Bryce kept pestering her about where I’ve been. I’m over an hour late coming back.
She said she could handle any delays, and I’m sure she did.
Woman’s got better stamina and wits than she gives herself credit for. That still bothers me.
How so many people, namely her family, just beat her down over the years.
I leave the exterminator stuff in the Jeep and get out, heading for the visitor center’s bathroom so I can change out of my jumpsuit.
Val meets me on the sidewalk. “I was getting worried! How did it go?”
“Nothing dire, but can’t say I walked away with much, either,” I tell her, lacing my fingers with hers. “Did you know about the false wall in Ray’s office?”
She frowns. “False wall? Um, that’s news to me.”
“It’s there, behind the shelves. There’s even a fingerprint reader.”
“Whoa. You mean right there in Dad’s old office?” she asks.
“Yeah, and it’s been used lately, so it’s Ray’s prints I’ll need to open it.”
“Yikes.” A worried look furrows her brow. “How are we going to get those?”
“I’ll have to lift them from somewhere.”<
br />
I’m glad we leave it there. Just then, Bryce and my ma come around the corner, laughing.
“Dad, finally!” Bryce shouts, waving a hand. “I thought you were never gonna show. We’re going to the battleship now. I’ve been wanting to see the Missouri again since forever.”
Oh, hell, I know he has.
The kid went through a World War II history buff phase a year or two back. He was begging me to take him out to Pearl Harbor and Fort DeRussy weekly to stare at tanks and jet fighters.
“Just wanted to skip to the best part, kiddo,” I say, grinning. “Let’s go.”
I place a hand on Val’s back and walk with her, while Bryce and Ma go on a few steps ahead.
We spend a couple hours exploring the massive decommissioned warship and then the other monuments and displays before leaving the park, stopping at a nearby cafe for lunch. A steaming plate of loco moco hits the spot, my usual for brunch.
Too bad the rich meal can’t satisfy the other hunger licking at my veins every damn time I make eyes across the table.
Somehow, taking Val to bed hasn’t diminished my animal urges one tiny bit.
All it takes is a flash of her bright-gold eyes or a flick of that dark-hazelnut hair to drive my cock mad.
I don’t recall the last time anybody else joined us for a family meal. I’m surprised how comfortable and easy it feels, minus one thing.
I can tell how much my mother adores Valerie. Concerning.
It’s gonna be hard as fuck to drop the truth on her, dashing her fantasy that I’ve finally found my other half. Just not half as hard as it’ll be to let Val go.
All the more reason to get this case solved and find some normalcy again.
Before we leave the diner, I get an all clear text from Davis. Weird.
I expected men to be watching us, even trying to follow us again. Cornaro boys are like coyotes once they’ve found a target, always stalking, waiting for a chance to move in for the kill.
Nothing about this game holds true to form.
That’s worrying.
Ma leaves shortly after we return to my house.
Bryce heads out the back door to play with Savanny. He’s still trying to teach that cat to fetch like a dog. Guess grit and determination runs in our blood.
I head into the living room and find Val stretched out on the sofa.
“Feeling up to visiting your mother again?” I ask. “I’m sure I could lift Ray’s prints off something there. This time, no car chases. Promise. I’ve got a plan for that.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Sure. He keeps this wooden surfboard there that he doesn’t let anyone else touch. I’m sure you could get his prints off it easy. It’s non-porous.”
I lift a brow, wondering how she’d know I’d need a non-porous item.
“What? I watch a lot of forensics shows.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she says, “I’ll call my mother. I remember her number now.”
With the phone on speaker, she holds it between us.
“Hello?” Lorelei says.
“Hi, Mom, it’s—”
“Valerie? Oh, thank God you called! I don’t have your new number.”
Val glances at me, clearly hearing the anxiety straining her mother’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Ray! He’s...he’s missing, dear.”
My hand balls into a fist at my side.
“Missing? What do you mean?” Valerie asks, her voice jumping an octave.
“I called him after you’d been here to see me, asked him why he never told me you’d been injured, and he said he’d be right over. But he only came for a few hours and left again, and that was days ago. He’s not answering his phone. It goes straight to voicemail. I called Sammie, and she says he hasn’t been in the office. Something’s happened to him, Valerie. Something dreadful. I just know it!”
Fuck.
She’s right about the dreadful part. Only question is whether it’s bad news for him, or more ugly shit he’s cooking up for us.
More importantly, my gut tells me Mrs. Gerard isn’t safe.
Not anymore.
Rushing over, I grab Valerie’s hand as I whisper, “Is this a landline?”
She looks up, her eyes wide, and nods.
I hold a finger to my lips. The line’s bugged. I’m sure of it.
They can’t trace the location of Val’s phone, but they can hear every damn word. “Does she have a cell phone? Do you know the number?”
She nods slowly.
“Valerie! Did you hear me?” Mrs. Gerard cuts in again. “We have to go to the police and—”
“I heard you, but I’m picking up a lot of static. Hold on, call you right back.” Valerie hits the end button. “She sounds scared out of her mind, Flint. I don’t think it’s some kind of trick...even by Ray.”
“Do you know a place where we can meet her? One she’ll know without you saying the name and tipping off anybody else on the line. Somewhere public with plenty of people?” I have no doubt Lorelei will probably be followed, but at least we could get there first, and find a way to get her out unseen.
“Yes. This little bakery in Honolulu. It’s the only place she can buy the cookies she likes. She usually sends her maid to get them, but...she’ll know what I’m talking about without even mentioning the name.”
“Perfect. Call her back. Tell her to meet us there in an hour,” I say, while texting my own mother, telling her I need her to come back and take Bryce to her house.
The stakes are too fucking high to risk anyone else getting hurt.
Val dials another number, and once again puts the call on speaker.
“Mother, it’s me,” she says as soon as Lorelei picks up.
“Why—”
“Mom, just listen. We’re going to buy cookies. Big honking chocolate macadamia nut monster cookies, your fave. Meet me there.”
“Cookies?! Oh, Valerie, didn’t you hear what I said about—”
“I heard you, loud and clear. Now, you hear. Cookies, Mother. Meet me there right away!” Val hangs up.
“Beautiful,” I tell her, then go to the back door and holler for Bryce.
He’s not happy to hear he’s going away with my mom again and possibly missing a swim lesson tomorrow, but he agrees when he finds out it’s so I can help Valerie.
My ma arrives shortly, and with a glowing smile, she doesn’t ask questions.
I know what she’s thinking.
We’re still celebrating our engagement and going at it like monkeys—I wish—but now’s not the time to explain how wrong she is. And there’s no sense in tipping her off.
Val thanks me for the quick thinking. She asks if I think Ray’s truly missing, or just with those men again, as we travel back across the island.
I admit that I’m not sure.
All signs point to him working with the Outfit. Hell, a few even hint there was some falling out. I remember what she said about her fateful trip on the yacht, how the goons thought he was double-crossing them.
Only thing certain is we’ve got a fucking mess on our hands. It pisses me off all over again that she’s been put in this place, betrayed by her brother.
“The bakery is over that way.” She points to the right as soon as we’re along one of the main busy arteries of downtown Honolulu. It’s a busy afternoon, plenty of tourists, and for once I’m grateful for the congestion.
“We’ll park near the back,” I say.
Val nods. “Good thinking.”
I park, and before we climb out, she puts on the oversized shades and hat, her usual disguise. The whole street swarms with people, surfers still in their swimsuits and beach bums carrying guitars, plenty of tourists from the mainland and Japan just starting to get their first taste of Aloha.
Val goes on ahead of me into the shop while I scan the area, texting the location to my crew.
Catching up with her later, we buy a few boxes of cookies, and then, handing the girl at the register several extra bills, I
describe Lorelei Gerard in detail and ask her to let the woman cut in line when she shows up. I also tell her to make sure Lorelei knows to meet us at ABC Store next door after she’s got her cookies.
I’m pulling no punches, doing everything to throw off anyone we haven’t noticed who’s got one eye on us.
The girl agrees, then Val and I go browse around the touristy trinkets and cheap shirts next door.
It takes another twenty minutes before she spots her mother. Val taps me on the shoulder and we watch as a confused Lorelei makes her way through the door.
“What’s going on here?” she asks as soon as she’s found us.
“Shhh,” Valerie whispers, looking up at me. “Flint?”
“You aren’t safe right now, Mrs. Gerard.” I say, leading them through the back door to the employee lot where I’d parked.
“Safe?” Lorelei asks. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Listen to him, Mother,” Valerie says. “If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead.”
“Dead?” Lorelei chokes on the word like it’s rotten meat.
“Dead, Mother. Finished. Or just 'missing,' like Ray. But Flint knows what he’s doing. He’s a professional. He’ll get to the bottom of it, you just have to trust him.”
“This man saved your life?” Lorelei asks, frowning.
“Yes,” Valerie says, a rough edge in her voice. “He was a Navy SEAL. He’s kept me safe ever since the accident. We never went to the Big Island. We’ve been on Oahu the entire time. He’s been trying to figure out who tried to kill me.”
“Kill you? Oh my God. You’re telling me this is why Ray disappeared?” She looks frayed, utterly distraught, and who the hell can blame her?
“We’ll figure this out, Mrs. Gerard,” I say, keeping them moving.
The poor woman looks totally bewildered.
For a second, I flash my tattoo, the eagle holding the trident. “Every word Val said is true. I served with the best. I’m here to help. Just need you to answer some questions about Ray.”
“I’m so worried,” she murmurs. “He’s just been odd lately. It reminds me of Stanley years ago, how he wouldn’t tell me what was going on, all these secret meetings, but I could tell it was something awful. He was so stressed.”