by Toby Neal
“I walked away when I saw that Noah the child-slaving dog killer was dying,” Lei finished. “I feel a little guilty for leaving Pono to hold his hand until it was over, but I just didn’t have it in me to witness that man’s passing.”
“How responsible for his death were you?”
“I don’t know. I shot his tire, but it was the quad hitting a rock at high speed that caused it to flip. So I don’t think I had anything to do with it, really. I was proud of myself for not plugging him in the back after what he did to those boys.” Lei described the man’s psychological manipulation of the boys and the damage it had done. “I’d love it if you could take a look at Dexter. I’m going to be involved with these boys into the future.”
Dr. Wilson sighed. “Of course I will. But isn’t someone working with him?”
“Yes. But I trust you.”
“And I receive that as the compliment it is. I’ll coordinate with your friend Elizabeth Black and make sure everything that can be done is being done. Speaking of boys, how’s Kiet doing?”
“Not well. I almost called you earlier this week.” Lei described Kiet’s insecurity. “Is it okay that we’re sleeping in the big bed together? He’s really regressed. Sucking his thumb, won’t let me out of his sight. It’s really worrying me.”
“Kiet’s a sensitive kid and he senses something is wrong. I would spend as much time as you can with him. Keep him with familiar family members and maintain the same routine each day. You have to put some extra energy into reassuring him that, though his father’s absent, his world continues and his needs will be met.”
“I’ve been doing all that. I just feel guilty I’m away so much. Especially when I was thinking I’d like to take those foster boys home.” Lei explained her impulse. “But Elizabeth nixed it, and she was right.”
“There was a time you wouldn’t have agreed,” Dr. Wilson said. “But you’ve learned to trust a few others. And your instincts with Kiet are solid.”
“Speaking of, I better head home.” Lei switched her phone to Bluetooth and put the truck in gear. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything about Michael. They’re probably going to bring him to Oahu, so maybe we can all meet there.”
“I’ll count on that, and pray it’s soon,” Dr. Wilson said, and Lei ended the call. She got on the road, her mind drifting to the possibility of reuniting with Stevens on Oahu as her eyes took in the coconut palms swaying in Maui’s usual wind along Hana Highway.
As if conjured by Lei’s wishing, the Security Solutions satellite phone rang on the seat beside her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The next time I woke up might have been hours or days later. I had no sense of time anymore—it was elastic and illusory—but what I did know was that I was being moved. Overhead, I saw the lacy patterns of trees, then sky—that milky blue that heralded a hot day. I heard the roar of engines, smelled the harsh burn of diesel ahead.
I was still tied, I discovered when I tried to move my arms. I tipped my head back a little, and by rolling my eyes back, I looked up the body of one of the men carrying my stretcher. There was a triangle of beard stubble beneath his chin. He was one of the Hondurans by his skin tone and height.
“He’s awake,” the man said in Spanish, looking down at me.
“That’s okay. We’re almost there.” I recognized Aquinas’s voice, panting with exertion as he carried the other end of the stretcher. We’d reached a helicopter. I recognized its American designation as they stowed the stretcher on a detachable medical transport rack.
“You’re going home, Lieutenant.” Aquinas and the other man still wore their medical masks, and I wondered why.
“How long was I out?” I asked. Aquinas shook his head, tightening down a strap over my stretcher. He locked the IV pole into place.
From the front of the helicopter two pilots looked back at me, their pale faces and crew cuts identifying them as American. Aquinas slammed the door and sat down in a jump seat beside me as the other bearer jogged away.
“We’ve got you now, Lieutenant. Sit back and enjoy the ride,” one of the pilots said, and the roar of the rotors drowned out any question or thought I might have had.
Just to be awake felt good. The bird rose in the air. Tremors from the engine jostled me, but it felt soothing in a weird way. I hadn’t felt mechanical motion in a long time—something that was a part of my everyday life at home. Sharp smells, of fuel and straining metal, filled my nostrils, along with the roar of the engine.
I still wasn’t sure what to think about Aquinas. Was he one of the kidnappers? He’d sounded American, though his coloring was consistent with Latino ancestry. But why was he traveling with me now? And who had that American in the uniform been?
All this thinking was making my head ache. I could feel that I was stronger and that I wasn’t feverish anymore. There was a lot to be grateful for. I didn’t have to have all the answers now.
Eventually the thrum of the engines translated to soporific, enough for me to drowse off, but I woke when we touched down on the ground. The door of the helicopter flew back, and a couple of uniformed medics jumped in. Aquinas hopped out and walked away.
“Good to see you awake, Lieutenant,” one of them said, checking the IV. “We’re moving you into a medical tent until we fly you out tomorrow.”
“Okay.” My voice still sounded scratchy and unused. I lifted my head to see where they were taking me and spotted a cluster of hangars, planes, and heavy-duty tents, all in camouflage. Wherever we had arrived was a military facility. My heart thudded heavily with anxiety as the medics lifted me down and stowed my stretcher on a rolling gurney.
“Can you guys take these restraints off?” I asked as they stowed my IV bag. “I’m not going anywhere now that I’m rescued.”
“Of course, sir.” One of the men pulled a combat knife from his belt and cut the bindings at my hands. He lifted the sheet and cut the ones at my feet, tucking the sheet back around them.
I asked what I thought they’d know. “Where are we?”
“Capital of Honduras. Tegucigalpa,” the medic who’d helped me said.
“Tegucigalpa.” It was pronounced pretty much like it was spelled. “So…I’m going where?”
“Back to the States. You’ve been negotiated.” The young man grinned. “Hear you had a short but eventful time in Honduras.”
“You have no idea.” I was headed for home. Gratitude swept over me. “I’m still not sure how I got from Nicaragua to where I was rescued.”
“Nicaragua, sir? You must be mistaken.” The medic put a blood pressure cuff on me and pumped it up.
“The kidnappers captured me in Nicaragua. In a village over there.” I saw the glance the man gave the other medic. Then he looked back down at me.
“Well, you’re going home now. Just take it easy.”
Somehow his words had the opposite effect on me. I had questions—and they weren’t being answered.
I’d just have to be patient. I shut my eyes and tried to relax.
Lei’s hands were clumsy as she fumbled with the satellite phone, looking for a place to pull the truck over. The number in the little window was unfamiliar, but she got the truck pulled to the shoulder and put the phone to her ear.
“This is Sergeant Texeira.”
“Westbrook here. Good news! We’ve negotiated the release of the prisoners.”
“Oh my God!” A ripple of joyful excitement lifted the hairs all along Lei’s arms. She shut her eyes against the prickle of tears. “When can I see him?”
Westbrook’s voice sobered. “There have been some complications. Your husband was pretty severely injured and is still recovering. He’ll be shipped to Tripler Army Hospital on Oahu. So you’ll have to wait for that, but we anticipate his return in a few days.” He cleared his throat. “And I think you’ll appreciate that there’s a clause in his contract that cancels it, with full payment for the term of contract, in the case of kidnapping or injury. In his situation, both occur
red, so he’ll be getting a bonus.”
“I don’t care about that!” Excitement had disappeared the minute Westbrook said “severely injured,” leaving an ash of anxiety in Lei’s mouth. “How badly was he hurt?”
“We don’t know yet. We’ve transferred the funds to ensure the men’s safety, but we don’t know what condition they’re in. We were told to send medical personnel and special transport for one of the prisoners, and when we asked which one and why, they said it was Lieutenant Stevens, but didn’t tell us the extent of his injuries.”
“Okay.” Lei restrained her exclamations and questions with difficulty, remembering how Westbrook had shut her down in the past. “So he’s in transit?”
“Yes. But it’s a long way from Central America, so it’ll be at least two days until he’s at Tripler.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go to Oahu to wait for him.”
“He will need to be questioned. Debriefed. Some psychological assessments,” Westbrook said.
“Of course. But I know Michael. The thing that will help him most is to see his family as soon as possible.” Even as she said the words, Lei wondered. Stevens hadn’t been acting like his family was the most important thing in his life before his departure.
“I’m sure that’s true. Just thought you should know there will be some protocols to follow,” Westbrook said.
Lei said goodbye and ended the call, setting the phone beside her on the seat. She leaned her head on the steering wheel. “Thank you, God. Thank you so much for bringing him back to me.” She straightened up, put the truck in gear, and drove home.
Jared was at the house, tossing a ball for Kiet, when she pulled up. His tall, dark-haired form was so similar to her husband’s that it gave her a twinge. Her son barely looked up as he swung at Jared’s soft, slow pitch with earnest effort, tongue trapped in the corner of his mouth. The little boy connected and the softball shot past Jared, who made a halfhearted effort to catch it in his glove.
Conan, who’d been waiting for just such an opportunity, bolted after the ball, the big Rottweiler’s powerful haunches launching him forward in great leaps.
Lei could feel a smile stretching her face, so wide it hurt, as she got out of the truck. Jared grinned back at her, that quality of charisma he radiated giving his expression an extra dollop of charm. “Hey, sis! You’re looking like you got good news.”
“I did.” Lei waited until both of them were looking at her, and then she opened her arms to Kiet. “I’m so happy, little man. Daddy’s coming home!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kiet ran up the cement walkway to Lei’s grandfather Soga’s house as she paid off the driver who’d given them a ride from the airport. Soga Matsumoto opened the door wide, his normally stern face cracked down the middle with the big grin he reserved for his great-grandson. “My boy!” he exclaimed.
“Grandfather!” Kiet embraced Soga tightly around the waist. Lei hurried up the tiny walkway to throw her hug in over her son’s.
“Grandfather, it’s so good to see you.” She breathed in his scent, flavored with a hint of glue and sandalwood. He must have been working on the floating lanterns he made every year for the Shinnyo temple’s famous annual floating lantern ceremony on Memorial Day.
“Your husband is returning. Such a good thing, and I get a visit out of it.” He released them abruptly, as was his way, and turned, opening the front door. “Come in. Your room is ready.”
Since Lei had reconnected with her grandfather while she was in the FBI, their relationship had grown deeper. He’d greeted Kiet’s surprise arrival with delight, and though she’d seen him eye her waistline speculatively, he never asked about more children, something for which Lei was grateful.
She followed Soga through the sparsely furnished house to the guest room he’d renamed “their” room. She turned into the room to drop off her bag as Soga led Kiet out to his workshop, one of her son’s favorite places in the world.
Lei took a moment to flop backward on the queen-sized bed with its silky spread. It had been another full, eventful day before she’d been able to get away from work. The cold-case mystery that had begun with a small battered skull had turned out to be one of the most emotional but satisfying cases she’d worked in a long time.
Elizabeth Black had called Lei to report that the three foster boys had been kept together to minimize their attachment trauma, and a stable long-term home had been found that would keep them together.
Lei had finished all her paperwork and reports on the raid at the hideout in Kaupo. Tony had been released for a day to direct a team to retrieve his brother’s remains, which were now slated to be reburied in a county-owned grave plot. Luke and Tony’s parents were deceased, so Lei planned to attend the burial with the teen, who would be given a day pass for the occasion.
Lei had taken family leave to come here and deal with Stevens’s situation. Lying on the bed, her eyes shut, she remembered the quick visit she and Kiet had made to the boys’ new foster home on the way to the airport.
She’d called ahead this time, and the long-term foster mother, a large Hawaiian woman with a face creased from smiling, opened the door to them. Clad in a hibiscus-covered aloha shirt and capris, an air-dried clay plumeria decorating her braid, she smiled warmly at Lei.
“Welcome. I’m Aunty Belinda.”
“Sergeant Lei Texeira. Mahalo for keeping the boys together and taking them all.” Kiet liked to hang back and observe in new situations, so Lei squeezed his shoulder and pushed him forward gently. “This is my son, Kiet. Say hello to Aunty Belinda.”
“Hello, Aunty,” Kiet repeated obediently, but he still pressed back against Lei.
Lei heard the thunder of approaching footsteps. The doorway filled with all three boys, tall, medium, and short. Their cheeks already looked fuller and eyes brighter since she’d seen them last.
“Aunty Lei!” As usual, Danny was the most forthcoming and affectionate, stepping past Kiet to embrace her. “You came to visit us at our new house!”
“I told you. You’re part of my ohana now. This is my son, Kiet. Kiet, this is Danny, Kekoa, and Dexter.” Lei put her hands back on the little boy’s shoulders. “You’re going to have some hanai brothers now.”
“What’s hanai?” Kiet asked.
“Means Hawaiian-kine adopted,” Danny said. “So we going be brothers.”
Kekoa squatted a little, down to the younger boy’s height. “Kiet, you like video games?”
Lei and Stevens limited his consumption of that kind of electronic media even more than TV, so Kiet’s whole body came alive as he replied. “Yeah!”
“Mario Brothers?” Danny cocked his head.
“Mario Kart is my favorite,” Kiet said.
“We got ’em.” Danny gestured. “Come see.” Kiet shot after Danny and Kekoa, leaving Lei with Dexter, standing in the doorway. Aunty Belinda opened the door wider.
“Come in. We getting mosquitoes already.”
“Oh, shoots, I’m sorry.” Lei hurried across the threshold into a spacious living room lined with worn couches. A big-screen TV made the far wall into a movie theater. “Can I talk to Dexter a minute? Privately?”
“Sure. I was just getting lunch ready. You and your boy like something fo’ eat?” Aunty Belinda asked over her shoulder.
“No thanks. We can’t stay long. We’re on our way to the airport.”
The woman nodded as she left. Lei smiled at the tallest of the boys. A lock of disorderly black hair hung over one of his eyes. She resisted the urge to stroke it back. “You’re looking better, Dexter.”
He nodded, though he still made no move to approach her. “Let’s sit for a minute.” Lei gestured to the right angle formed by the couches. “Did that doctor guy Elizabeth sent come visit you?”
“Yeah.” Dexter sat next to Lei and hung his hands between his knees. “I talked to him.”
“Did it help?” She did reach out now, slowly, as if petting a feral cat. She pushed the errant loc
k back and smiled. “You should cut your hair. You have nice eyes. The girls will love you when you get back to school.”
He ducked his head, and the tops of his ears went red. “I haven’t been in school for so long. They’re going to think I’m dumb.”
Lei coughed to get her voice working again, but it still sounded thick with emotion when she said, “Anyone meeting you can tell you’re not dumb. How long were you at the farm?”
“Two years, I think. I was eleven, almost twelve when I got there. We had no calendar, but we had two Christmases out there. Uncle brought us presents at Christmas.” He picked at the arm of the worn, tweedy couch.
“So you’re going to be fourteen soon?”
“Yeah.”
Aunty Belinda returned with a cutting board covered with slices of mango, papaya, and pineapple. “Aunty Belinda, did you know you’ve got a birthday boy here?”
“No! When’s your special day?”
Dexter told her the date, in another week, and she clapped her hands. “Perfect. We’ll get the whole ohana together. And maybe your parents can come, too.”
“I’m not sure I want to see them.” Dexter looked at Lei anxiously. “They never tried to find me or get me back.”
“Oh, now, we don’t know that,” Aunty Belinda said. “They’re still investigating the whole thing and how it happened, where your folks have been. We won’t know anything for a while. But you wouldn’t say no to more presents, right?”
Dexter shook his head. He appeared to be thinking it over as he eyed the tray of fruit.
Lei picked up a savory-smelling pineapple spear and took a bite. The sweet, tart, flavorful taste burst across her tongue. She shut her eyes to savor it. “Aunty—this pineapple. So sweet, so ono!”