Fire Dancer

by Linsey Lanier

“Through that door.” He gestured to the sign marked Exit when they were halfway down the passage. “Thank you again.” Then he turned and disappeared down a side hall.

  Miranda didn’t head for the exit. Instead she stood eyeing the path the sergeant had taken. Maybe she’d pacify her frustration with a little snooping. If Balondo caught her, she could always claim she was bad at directions.

  She listened a minute, trying to detect a door closing. Hopefully to his office.

  The whole station was as quiet as a morgue. Well, she guessed they did have a morgue back there. But the office area seemed empty. Maybe everyone had gone home. Maybe Balondo had snuck out the back. Wouldn’t hurt to check it out, right?

  Steadying her nerves, she took a deep breath and dared to step into the passage the sergeant had used.

  A row of closed doors stood on one side, an open area on the other. No sign of Balondo. She peered around the corner.

  Cube bank.

  Tangerine colored dividers sectioned off several small spaces, each cubbyhole complete with metal desk, filing cabinet, computer.

  Hmm. Might be worth it to sneak a peek at one of those systems. Before she could decide, a noise came from the back. Startled, she glanced up just in time to see a shadow flit across the tiled ceiling as a door scraped open. Footsteps. Voices.

  Heart pounding, she ducked back into the main hallway and plastered herself against the wall.

  “Well, that was fun,” groaned a man with a Brooklyn accent. Sounded like Officer Andrews from the crime scene tonight.

  “And pointless.” That was Officer Jones’ Aussie accent.

  More footsteps. They were coming this way. Miranda held her breath and hoped the officers were heading for their desks and not for this hallway.

  “I hate when they pull that pidgin Creole crap,” Andrews said. “‘Ho, brah. Da same like I just say. I don’t know nuteen.’”

  “She was playing dumb for us cops,” Jones smirked.

  “I ought to be used to it after ten years on the job, but it still gets on my nerves.” Something squeaked and Miranda let out a breath as she imagined heavyset Andrews easing himself into his desk chair.

  “I’ve been on the job two years and I know I’ll never get used to it.”

  A drawer opened.

  “Hey, who took my Spam and pineapple sandwich?”

  “You already ate it.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too. You wolfed it down before Balondo sent us to that luau owner.”

  Luau owner? They’d gone to see the luau owner? Miranda listened harder.

  All she heard was something that sounded like the moan of a wounded bulldog.

  Jones gave a defeated snort. “What a whiner you are, Andrews. Okay, you can have some of my Onion Crunchers.”

  “I prefer Barbeque Rings.” Despite the complaint, a bag rustled and was followed by copious munching noises and the sound of keyboards clicking.

  Miranda wondered if chip crumbs were getting lodged between the keys. That always happened to her.

  The keys stopped. “Okoro’s already made a report.” Andrews said. “Tox is clean. Preliminary COD drowning.”

  “Doesn’t say accidental.”

  “Nope. Maybe tonight wasn’t so pointless, after all. Minoaka did give us a motive.”

  “Sure did,” Jones agreed. “She fired the fire dancer.”

  Keola had been fired tonight? Why? He was terrific.

  “And he took it really hard.”

  “He was devastated. Enough to kill himself, you think?”

  Andrews sighed. “It’s looking like it.” He uttered a sad chuckle. “If I had to work for Mary Minoaka, I’d want to kill myself, too. What a bitch.”

  “That’s why her name is Minoaka—smile.”

  Despite the grim topic, Miranda had to smile, too. Both at the cop cynicism and the tidbits she was picking up. This Mary Minoaka had to be the person in charge of the show at the Luau Pilialoha.

  “You know what the headwaiter called her?”

  “What?”

  “Bloody Mary.”

  Jones cackled. “Good one.” There was a pause. “Well, I’m finished with my report. Should we wait to concur with Yamagata?”

  “No, he’s going home after he’s done with his assignment.”

  “He sure drew the short straw tonight. Having to tell Keloa’s family.”

  Miranda’s throat tightened. The family. Of course, the dancer had family. What they must be going through right now.

  “Yeah, we definitely got the better of the deal. Let’s call it a night and start up again tomorrow.” The chair creaked again and Miranda sucked in her breath.

  “I’m with you, Andrews.”

  There was packing-up and shutting down noises and then more footsteps as Jones and Andrews began to move. But their voices faded. They were going out the back.

  “Have a good night.”

  “You, too.”

  The back door closed. Miranda blew out a breath. The coast was clear, but she didn’t need the computers now.

  Straightening her clothes, she headed for the Exit sign, slipped out the door and past the clerk at the desk, who seemed to be nodding off.

  When at last she was in the parking lot, she let herself breath again. Hot damn. A lead already. If she were lucky, the office for the Pilialoha Luau would be near the place where she’d had dinner. And Bloody Mary would be working late.

  She hopped into the BMW, revved her up and steered the car toward town.

  ###

  Ten minutes later, she sat staring up at a darkened building on Front Street. This was the place all right, but everyone had gone home.

  Crap. She’d have to come back in the morning.

  So now what?

  She couldn’t go back to the hotel. Her mind started to reel again as the things Parker had said came back to her.

  Sometimes you don’t know what’s good for you.… I thought our marriage would end this reoccurring pattern.… When are you going to stop running away and face your problems?

  Renewed fury pounded in her temples. She couldn’t believe it. Yes, she could. He’d always had a domineering streak. She’d always let it pass before.

  How could he look for her father behind her back? How dare he? Fresh anger washing over her, she scanned the street for a cheap place to stay and realized she’d been so mad, she’d left the hotel without her wallet or even a change of clothes. Damn.

  Well, good thing the weather was nice here.

  She pulled out onto the road and drove around for awhile. Finally she found a beach park and turned into the lot.

  She picked out a cozy spot near some picnic tables overlooking the ocean, pulled the car into the space and turned off the engine.

  This was nice. This was just perfect. Gorgeous view. Gorgeous night. She’d get some sleep and figure out her next step in the morning.

  She adjusted the seat back a bit and watched the waves rolling in.

  Maui was a beautiful place. Maybe she’d open up shop right here. She wondered what the license requirements for private investigators were. No, her father was in this town. She could go to one of the other islands. Or maybe New Zealand.

  She rubbed her neck. If only she had a pillow. She’d even left the hotel without her sweater. With a groan, she shuffled this way and that, trying to get comfortable. While the leather bucket seats were cool for sitting, as a bed they left something to be desired. She tried the glove compartment for a towel to roll up. Nada.

  Just as she was considering ramming the car into a mango tree to defuse the air bag for a mattress, her cell buzzed. She yanked it out of her pocket. Parker calling to apologize?

  No. Another text from Wendy. She glanced at the dash. Three in the morning. It was nine in Atlanta. The kid must be on her way to a class.

  How’s ur honeymoon? I’m headed for Algebra. Yucko. Mackenzie was so cool last night. Her pirouette is incredible and her Biellmann spin takes your breath away. She’s
going to win the Regional, I know it. Even Jordan thinks so and she’s always hard to convince.

  Miranda stared down at the screen. It was risky if Wendy’s mother was checking her phone, but she decided to take a chance. She thumbed a message back. “Who’s Jordan?”

  Jordan McFee. She’s in my class. She’s kind of a nerd, but she’s nice.

  McFee. As in Chatham, Grayson and McFee? Mackenzie’s father’s law firm? Probably.

  Kaylee swears Mackenzie will win, too. She’ll believe anything, but this time, I think she’s right.

  Once more. “Who’s Kaylee?”

  Kaylee Hayden. She’s in my class, too. She’s best friends with Jordan.

  Miranda thought back. Edward Hayden was an investment banker at CK&G. Wendy’s father was one of his clients. All in the well-to-do family. At least these girls sounded nice and Wendy was making friends. That was good. Very good.

  If Mackenzie does win, she’ll go to the Junior Interstate. I hope my mother will let me go. Oh, Mackenzie even let me shine her blades yesterday. Way cool, huh? Gotta run.

  Shine her blades? Please. Miranda wanted to tell Wendy not to let that girl push her around, but she didn’t have the right. And she knew the kid wouldn’t listen to any unsolicited advice from an adult. Instead she thumbed, “Yeah. Way cool. Have fun.”

  No response. Wendy was gone.

  That familiar sense of loss came over her as she stared out at the ocean. The crashing waves echoed the waves of pain washing over her heart. Wendy would never be hers. And now she had lost Parker as well. Such was life. Her life, anyway.

  She stared at the moonbeams playing on the ocean. She thought Parker had chosen this place for her—for them. Instead, it was all for his damned ulterior motives. How could he hunt down her father without letting her know?

  She closed her eyes, trying to will away the hurt.

  Instead, a memory stole over her heart from somewhere deep within her subconscious. She saw herself as a little girl in a pretty dress, dancing with her father in the living room of their home in the Chicago suburbs. A song from some old musical played on the phonograph. Something about trying to find an island that was calling to you. Bali Ha’i. She started to hum it, then stopped herself.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. She couldn’t deal with any of this now. She was too exhausted. With a grunt, she opened the door of the BMW, climbed into the backseat, curled up in a ball.

  And with the sound of the relentless waves in her ears, at last she fell asleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Parker stirred and reached across the mattress for his wife.

  Gone.

  He opened an eye and scowled at her spot on the bed. Empty. On an irritated growl, he rose and made his way into the living room. He stared at the couch.

  Also empty.

  He’d half-expected her to sneak back into the suite and curl up here. The rational part of his brain knew her better. Investigate a murder. How far did she think she could get in the middle of the night?

  He turned and plodded into the bathroom for a shower. She might be in the lobby or in one of the restaurants. If she wasn’t, he’d rent another car and track her down. It wouldn’t take him long to find her. As soon as he assured himself she was safe, he’d take care of his business and then fetch her. He’d do whatever was necessary to soothe her ruffled feathers.

  He had no intention of leaving her on her own here for long. Or of spending his honeymoon alone.

  ###

  Forty minutes later, Parker was rapping his knuckles against the office door of Detective Ryo Nakamura.

  “Enter.”

  He couldn’t help grinning at the look of shock that greeted him as he stepped inside.

  “Parker! I didn’t expect a visit from my old mentor so soon.” The tall man in his mid-thirties rose and came around the desk.

  Parker’s heart warmed at the familiar sight of the neatly trimmed, jet-black hair, the high-set cheekbones and straight jaw that gave his former student a threatening appearance that could make the most hardened street thug shiver in his metallic Adidas. Ryo wore a white, button-down dress shirt, silk tie, and coordinating slacks. Parker was pleased his own clothing habits had rubbed off on Ryo.

  “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

  “Just got in yesterday. It’s good to see you, again, Ryo.” He took the detective’s hand in his, relishing the warm handshake.

  “Have a seat. Coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” Parker settled into the plain chair before the equally plain desk.

  “How about some of my oolong tea?” Ryo strolled over to a small table in the corner and poured amber liquid from a colorful pot into a ceramic cup.

  “I’d forgotten your preference for tea.” Two things his former student had been almost fanatical about. His tea and his martial arts moves. “But no, thank you. I’ll be having something later.”

  Ryo blew on the hot liquid in the cup and eyed Parker quizzically. “I didn’t realize you were coming to Maui personally.”

  “I apologize for not mentioning it.” Ryo had already provided the information he needed. Parker hadn’t intended to visit his former student, at least not in an official capacity, until last night.

  To divert the subject, Parker gazed at the photos and commendations lining the inexpensively paneled walls. “Five years out of the Parker Agency and you’re already Assistant Chief in the Investigative Services Department here? I didn’t think you’d end up in a desk job.”

  Ryo set his cup down on the desk and took a seat behind it. “I do miss the field, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices to make sure things are done right.” The detective leaned back with an authoritarian air that suited him well. Parker had to smile at the insignia on the cup of the Maui Police Department. Ryo was all cop.

  “I know what you mean.” Parker could relate to that. Of course owning his own company, he could have the best of both worlds. One of the many reasons police work had never suited him.

  Ryo grinned a shy, almost boyish grin. “I’m hoping to be appointed Deputy Chief next year.”

  “Excellent. I’m proud of you.”

  Ryo’s eyes sparkled. “So is Elise.”

  “Elise?

  “My wife.”

  “You’re married?”

  “Three years now. No kids yet.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Ryo gestured to the certificates on the wall. “I owe a lot of those to you. And not just for my training at the Agency.”

  Parker rubbed his chin and thought back. “Four years ago now, wasn’t it?”

  “My first assignment. I still can’t thank you enough for your help. I couldn’t let pride keep me from asking for help from you. I had to make sure that one didn’t get away. I couldn’t take any chances.”

  “Yes, it was a wise decision,” Parker agreed. But Ryo had never been prideful. When his team had to go after a notorious drug dealer and gunrunner and he found himself short of manpower, he didn’t hesitate to call on Parker. His old boss had been only too glad to make the trip and to help bring down a dangerous career criminal with contacts to gangs in Oahu.

  The suspect had been hell-bent on bringing as much corruption to West Maui as he could—and profiting nicely from it.

  Ryo and Parker had been hell-bent, too—on bringing the man in. But it didn’t go smoothly. There was an altercation. Shots were exchanged. Parker was nearly hit, but he managed to return fire first. And had ended a life.

  Not something he was proud of. Especially when he learned the suspect had a son. But the man had chosen his own path. And now the island was free of that plague.

  “Well, that was some time ago.” Now it was Ryo’s turn to change the subject. “What brings you to the station so early? I just got in myself.” It was just past six.

  “Still an early riser who likes to get to the office before it opens, I see.”

  “Old habits die hard. Did you get my text last night?”

  “I did
.”

  “Since you’re here in person, that target you’re looking for must be important, but he didn’t have a rap sheet. What is he? A deadbeat dad?”

  Parker sat back and steepled his hands. “In…a manner of speaking.”

  “I haven’t had time to dig up any more on him. Except that he goes by the name Pumehana. He owns a tiki bar on Front Street.”

  “Pumehana. Tiki bar,” Parker repeated, filing those details away. “The confirmation you sent is sufficient. I have the home address. Actually, I’m here to discuss another matter.”

  “Oh?” Ryo sat back, his bright, dark eyes expectant.

  Parker studied Ryo’s desk. Embossed cup of oolong tea, phone, printer, papers piled in an in-box. A glass jar half-filled with the watermelon candies his student had been fond of. He knew this man. He could trust him. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Last night the body of a fire dancer on the island was found on the beach. A Sergeant Balondo is in charge of the case.”

  “Yes. I need to check on that, if you don’t mind.” He turned to his keyboard and began to type. “Terrible incident. Sounds like it’s hit the news already. Keola Hakumele was a popular figure in our little town.”

  “I know. My wife found the body.”

  Ryo stopped typing and stared at Parker in shock. “You’re here with Sylvia?”

  As one of his prodigies at the Agency, Ryo had been invited to the house for dinners and get-togethers. He’d met his first wife several times.

  “Sylvia passed a few years ago.”

  His brows drew together in genuine sympathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “I’ve recently remarried.”

  “Well. My condolences and my congratulations. I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch.”

  “I’d say that’s my fault.” Parker had fallen apart when Sylvia became ill. Since then he hadn’t kept in touch with many people from his past. She had been the love of his life. But now Miranda had come along and stolen his heart all over again. She made him feel happier, more alive than he had in years. That was, when she wasn’t exasperating the hell out of him. “My new wife is an investigator at the Agency,” he explained.

  Ryo gave him a sad smile. “Keeping to your own kind this time?”