by Meryl Sawyer
The family fortune had been made and the Coltranes became one of the wealthiest families in the islands, but that was then and this was now. Today the vast groves necessary to cultivate the nuts were costly to maintain, and environmentalists were constantly pressuring them about using pesticides on the crop. The ranch itself carried an unbelievable tax burden. No doubt about it, Coltrane Consolidated, which also included numerous buildings in Honolulu and several exclusive hotels in Maui and Kauai, needed top-flight management. But Jason was a good twenty years from being able to help.
"I'm not as old as I look," Big Daddy answered her unspoken question. "I'm fifty-two. I'll be in my seventies when Jason's ready to take over. I can hang on until then."
Not for the first time, Dana wondered who really ran Coltrane Consolidated. Big Daddy seemed content to laze around the ranch and ride out each day with the paniolos to check on the herd. She doubted he had much more ambition than his sons. Why would he expect so much of Jason?
"I married young, too young," Big Daddy said, an unusual wistfulness to his voice. "When my boys were growing up I was still sowing my wild oats. I didn't give them proper guidance. I'm not going to make that mistake with Jason."
Rob spotted Dana among the swarms of tourists in Maui's air terminal. She was dressed in white shorts and a T-shirt with splashes of pink and aqua on it. She looked incredibly young, incredibly sexy.
He gave her the slow grin that could coax most women out of their panties in two shakes. Naturally it didn't work on Dana. She parted her lips, revealing an even set of white teeth, which was about as close to a smile as he was likely to get.
She didn't like him, didn't like being forced to work with him, and for an instant he wondered why he was trying so hard to change her mind. Because he felt challenged, truly challenged, not just by the case, which was proving to be a doozy, but by the woman herself.
"What did you find out?" she asked the minute he was within hearing range.
He put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, is that any way to greet someone you're crazy about?" He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, knowing it would piss her off. "You can at least notice I cut my hair. And I have new clothes."
She gave the navy blue polo shirt and his khaki shorts a quick once over. "You look nice."
"That's better," he said with another encouraging smile that had about as much impact as the first one.
They started walking toward the baggage claim area and Dana asked, "Did you test the knife? What did it show?"
"The knife is brand-new. Someone hammered it and rubbed it with dirt to make it look old. There were scratch marks where someone deliberately loosened the screw so the blade would wiggle."
She stopped dead in her tracks and put her hand on his arm. Her green eyes echoed the disbelief in her voice. "Someone knows. How?"
Rob was betting on Vanessa Coltrane, but he didn't verbalize his thoughts. Dana was unbelievably touchy about her sister. He could hardly wait to meet Vanessa and confirm his suspicions.
"Someone told." Rob started walking again and Dana followed. She seemed to be taking care not to stand too close to him, he decided, as they stopped at the baggage carousel. "You know, Dana, we're not going to fool the Coltranes for one second if you act like I'm dog shit."
"What do you mean?"
"For starters try smiling at me. Pretend you're glad to see me." She responded with a halfhearted smile. "And whenever you're near me, stand in my space."
"Your what?"
"About three feet around everyone is their 'space.' We're uncomfortable if strangers stand too close to us. Lovers always stand close. They want that intimacy, and people pick up on that closeness. If you just stand closer to me it'll send a silent message about your feelings."
She moved closer, her body not quite touching his, and tried a smile that made her look adorable.
"That's better," he said. "If you make certain to stand close it'll make it easier to whisper anything I don't want the Coltranes to hear."
"Good idea," she said so earnestly that he almost kissed her. "My sister says Big Daddy has the servants eavesdrop and report back to him."
"Wanna hear about the blood on the knife?" he asked, leaning close to her, his voice low. "It was snake blood."
"There aren't any snakes in the islands." Her eyes widened as she spoke, and he decided being this close to her was damn nice. He caught a whiff of her perfume, a light floral with a trace of spice, and he could see the double tiers of her lashes. They were long and unusually thick for a blonde.
"It was harder than hell to identify the blood. My friend at UH did the tests. Cost me nothing except a round of drinks at Panama Jack's." He couldn't resist bragging just a little. He didn't want her to think of him as some sleazeball reporter. He wanted her to know that there was more to him. Much more. "This tells us a lot about the perp. Snake blood can be bought in Chinatown, if you know where to go." She was looking at him now with genuine admiration in her eyes, and he experienced a charge of excitement that he hadn't felt in years.
"Really?"
"They sell so much snake blood in Chinatown— it's an aphrodisiac, you know—that I couldn't ID the person." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. "This came for you in yesterday's mail."
She took it and quickly opened it. They'd agreed that he'd open any of her mail if it appeared to be a blackmail letter. This plain white envelope with no return address and a Honolulu postmark had been a dead giveaway.
The note read: Get out of Hawaii or I'll go to the police and tell them what you did.
7
For a second Dana looked so shocked, Rob thought she was going to fall into his arms. "Hey, at least we know what they want."
"It's the Coltranes," Dana informed him. "They're blackmailing me."
"What makes you think so?" Rob pulled his bag off the luggage carousel. He guided Dana over to the car rental desk while she told him about the pig hunt. He rented a red Mustang convertible and escorted her to it, listening to Dana's explanation that Vanessa planned to leave the ranch during Big Daddy's birthday luau and divorce Eric Coltrane.
"Somehow Big Daddy knows about Hank Rawlins," Dana said as he tossed his bag in the trunk. "If he can get rid of me, then Vanessa will think twice before divorcing Eric. She has no money of her own. Without me she won't be able to fight the Coltranes. They're too rich, too powerful."
"The way things work in these islands, anyone's crazy to tackle one of the big-five families."
"The Coltranes know we were orphaned as children. Vanessa doesn't have anyone but me. She has no education beyond high school. Without me it'll be impossible for her to fight them—though she might try." Dana turned to him as he helped her into the convertible. "Believe me, Big Daddy's worried. Last night he tried to convince me that Vanessa should open a boutique here on the island."
"That's interesting." Rob climbed into the car and started the engine. "From what I've heard that's not Coltrane's style."
"It isn't. I don't think he wants a confrontation with Vanessa. That's why he's trying to frighten us. That's why he's trying to placate her with a boutique. For some reason Big Daddy's acting out of character."
Rob stepped on the accelerator and passed a slow-moving truck filled with sugar cane. "Maybe you're right, but I've been thinking. This threat seems more directed at you than at Vanessa. I'm betting Davis Binkley is pissed—big time—that his name wasn't on the list for superior court. Hell, he's been presiding judge for years. You come in and do an end run around him. When I get back I'm checking the guy out."
"I'm telling you, there's something wrong at Kau Ranch. I can feel it. Big Daddy is the prime suspect."
Rob wasn't certain that he agreed with her analysis of the situation. He figured he'd have a much
better idea of what was happening when he met Vanessa and the Coltranes and could judge for himself.
They lapsed into silence as he drove down the Haleakala highway, the wind ruffling his hair an
d bringing with it the scent of pineapples. He couldn't help smiling. As much as he loved the excitement of Honolulu, there was nothing quite like Maui, where fields of pineapples and sugar cane covered much of the island. Between fields, thickets of ferns and dense bamboo encouraged the birds to take sanctuary. Their songs, as bright as the sunshine, brought him an astonishing sense of peace.
He glanced over at Dana. The wind had whipped her hair aside, leaving the gentle curve of her face exposed to the sun. He wondered if she knew how attractive she was. Probably not; she'd grown up in the shadow of a beautiful sister. She deliberately minimized her looks, concentrating on her intelligence.
He had the feeling it wasn't as simple as that. Dana Hamilton was a complex person. She hid so much about herself that he couldn't help wondering what she was really like.
"Where are you going?" Dana asked when he turned off the highway.
"I'm taking you to lunch at Mama's." He didn't add that he planned to spend as much time alone with her as possible and still thoroughly investigate the Coltranes.
"You know your way around Maui."
"Yeah. I've been here a lot." He could have said this was Ellen's favorite island. When they'd been married they'd come over as often as they could. This was the first time he'd come back since the divorce.
Dana had always liked Mama's. The restaurant sat on a bluff overlooking a cove buffeted by the trades. The perpetual wind and the high waves brought dozens of windsurfers to the cove. From Mama's, people could watch the windsurfers with their colorful sails jet around the cove and fly off waves with awesome agility.
Rob sat beside her, making it hard for Dana to keep her mind on the surfers. She'd managed to get herself under control, but since Rob had walked off that plane, looking incredibly attractive with his fresh haircut and new clothes, she'd been off-balance.
As he'd walked toward her, a welcoming smile making him even more handsome, she'd been stunned to realize how much she'd wanted him to come despite all the negative feelings she had about him. He could look at the situation with an outsider's detachment, she'd told herself. It horrified her to think she actually needed him. She'd been on her own for so long and had been able to control most situations. Not this time. Now she needed Rob.
If he'd been what she'd thought, a crude reporter with a shady past but a talent for investigating, she could have easily dealt with that man. Instead, he was someone else entirely—and he wanted her to know it. Intelligent and streetwise, Rob was also a keen observer of people.
Of her.
He'd picked up on things no one else had discovered. Worse, he seemed to know exactly how to get to her. That unexpected kiss in her kitchen had been one thing. What had gone on today was another entirely. His space.
Didn't he know what he was asking?
Of course he did. And he was clever enough to veil his intentions by insisting the Coltranes would notice if they didn't appear to be lovers. He was right, but she had to be a total idiot to go along with it. Still, here she was smiling at him, leaning across the table at Mama's into his space.
They ordered the fresh fish that was Mama's specialty. Dana braced herself, knowing if she didn't explain their sleeping arrangements before they arrived at the ranch that Rob would see the room and misunderstand.
"They've given us a really small cottage," she began. "I tried to get it changed, but because of all the guests coming for the party, I couldn't. There's only one king-size bed. You can have it. I'll sleep on the love seat."
He greeted the news with a wolfish grin.
"I don't have any intention of sleeping with you," she insisted. "This is a business arrangement."
"Suit yourself, but you don't know what you're missing."
"Rein in your ego and concentrate on this case."
"Ooookay." He pulled the cover off his camera and leaned so close to her that she could see the stitches of silver that made his blue eyes so unique. "This isn't any ordinary Nikon. See this flash? It blinks twice, not to tell me the battery is low, but to indicate the presence of electronic listening devices."
"Surely you don't think the Coltranes—"
"Did I ever mention that I was trained by the FBI at their facility in Quantico, Virginia?"
"You know you didn't."
"The United States is divided into crime districts, and the FBI trains someone from a local police department to work each territory as a perp pro." She knew perp pros were specially trained to create psychological profiles of criminals, but she was surprised to learn Rob had been chosen to go to FBI headquarters to receive the advanced training. Obviously he'd been an exceptional detective. Why would he leave the force?
"Perp pros have been damn successful with repeat offenders like serial killers, who are often outgoing, seemingly trustworthy," Rob said. She knew all this, but didn't interrupt him, noting the boyish enthusiasm in his voice. Clearly he was in his element. "They usually keep something to remember the crime—pictures, tapes of the killing, something belonging to the victim."
Dana shuddered. "Gruesome, just gruesome."
"The HPD still calls me in to consult—unofficially, of course. Remember that woman who was murdered on Kauai last year?"
"The one who'd been strangled with a silk scarf?"
"That's right. It was a ritual killing, and I suspected the killer had done this before, even though there hadn't been any similar crimes in Hawaii. Ritual murderers get a thrill from the ritual, and they tend to repeat their crimes with astonishing accuracy. I put the details in the FBI's master computer and found murders in other tourist meccas."
"So that's how they found that travel agent who'd strangled all those women," she said as the waiter served their lunch. She couldn't help being impressed. Despite his sexual overtures, Rob was extremely competent. "What have you decided about the person blackmailing me?"
"Well, I think the blackmailer is nonconfrontational." He put his hand on her arm, his strong fingers exerting just the slightest pressure as he gazed directly into her eyes. "Someone you'd never suspect."
"If Vanessa hadn't mentioned it I'd never suspect Big Daddy."
Picking up his fork Rob said, "I did a little checking on Thornton Coltrane. Big Daddy's a real hard-case." He chewed a bite of opakapaka, obviously savoring the pink snapper before continuing. "This isn't his style, but it's possible he might deliberately do something out of character so he wouldn't be suspected."
"That's what I think. As I told you earlier, he really doesn't want a fight with Vanessa. '
By the time they'd finished it was midafternoon and the wind had died down. Voluminous clouds promised the typical late-afternoon showers, not here in the arid beach area, but in the verdant hills and valleys of the up-country. They stood on the bluff watching the surfers pack up their boards. Rob turned to her, his expression earnest, and put his hands on her shoulders.
"That's better," he said when she didn't back up. "By the end of the week I'll need a baseball bat to fend you off."
"Dream on," she said. Really, his bark was worse than his bite. Not that she was going to let him bite her again. Too often she remembered the way he'd nipped her earlobe the night he kissed her.
They drove to the ranch the back way through a labyrinth of country lanes. Too soon they turned onto the private road that lead to Kau Ranch. The gate had been left open for the guests arriving for the party. The orange kapu sign caught Dana's eyes like a beacon on a moonless night. She told herself she was being silly. She reminded herself yet again that the modern meaning of kapu was keep out.
So, why did kapu—forbidden—seem so right? "Wow! This is some place," Rob said with a Texas drawl as Kau Ranch came into view. "Back in Texas we'd call this a spread—and a half. How many people live here?"
"They have about one hundred paniolos, I think. Besides the cowboys, Big Daddy probably has twenty-five servants to keep up the house and grounds. One man's job is to maintain the koi ponds."
Rob whistled. "It's no sin to be poor, bu
t it sure is inconvenient."
Dana couldn't help laughing as she pointed to a narrow drive half-concealed by tree ferns. "Take the back road down to the cottage."
Rob skillfully maneuvered the convertible past the main house and several guest cottages until they came to Makai House. He switched off the ignition and put his arm around her shoulder, leaning close. This wasn't a come-on; his expression was totally serious as he whispered into her ear, "When we go in, you chatter about the place and tell me to take pictures."
"You've been watching too much television," she said, opening the door. Nevertheless, as they entered the cottage she said, "Look, Rob, isn't this a spectacular view of the Molokini Crater? You'll have to get a picture of it."
"Right, babe," Rob responded, and she decided they almost sounded natural. "I like the bed better. Why don't you plant your cute tush on it, and I'll take a picture."
Dana did as she was told, demurely sitting on the bed, legs crossed, watching Rob silently laugh at her as he pulled his camera out of the case. He wasn't laughing two seconds later; the red monitor light on his flash was blinking, indicating the presence of a listening device. Rob motioned for her to keep talking as he climbed across the bed to inspect the large Hawaiian quilt mounted on the wall above the bed.
Big Daddy collected native art. This spectacular quilt was white with yellow geometric designs and pineapples, the symbol of hospitality and friendship. The missionaries had taught the island women to quilt, believing this would keep them too occupied to do "the devil's business"—hula dancing. It didn't, but the islanders loved quilting, producing magnificent quilts with a unique Hawaiian flair.
"Wait till you see the bathroom," Dana rushed on, suddenly chilled by the knowledge that someone was listening to every word. "It has a sunken tub and a magnificent view of the ocean."
Rob pointed to a tiny protrusion of metal a bit smaller than a thumbtack. It jutted out from the wall a fraction of an inch, well concealed by the hem of the quilt. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you'd never have noticed it.