Fire Beach: Lei Crime Book 8 (Lei Crime Series)

by Toby Neal

  “Because this has to stop,” Lei said aloud. “Baby, it just has to stop.”

  Baby had nothing to add.

  Lei strapped her shoulder-holstered weapon onto the outside of the vest and clipped her badge onto the front in plain view. And, finally, she scraped her unruly curls into a ball and anchored her hair with a rubber band. She was ready.

  Lei got out of the car, slid the keys into her pocket, and walked casually to the front of the gate.

  The dogs went apeshit, leaping off the porch and flying down the driveway to fling themselves at the wire, baying and howling an alarm.

  Lei set her hands on her hips, legs spread, and waited.

  The front door opened, and Terence Chang came out onto the porch. He looked impossibly young in a pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt, his black hair spiky with sleep, and Lei remembered he couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He clapped his hands, and the dogs shut up and trotted back to stand beside him on the porch.

  “Lei Texeira,” he said. “Kinda early for a raid, isn’t it?”

  “I just want to talk to you.” She pitched her voice normally, and the dogs barked at the sound of it. He clapped his hands again, and they slunk away to lie down on beds on the end of the lanai.

  “You what?” He walked down the steps toward the gate, and Lei imagined pulling her weapon and pegging him two in the chest, one in the head, like a Mafia executioner. The fantasy was so vivid that she blinked when he was still standing, and right in front of her. “What do you want?”

  “I need to talk to you. A police matter.”

  He looked around. “You cops travel in packs. Where are the rest of them?”

  “Just me this time.” Lei kept her voice flat and uninflected. “We have some unfinished business.”

  “Yes, we do.” He matched her tone. “Okay, come in.”

  “I’d rather you came with me. We can go somewhere private.”

  He snorted, and she realized his brown eyes were as hard as his grandmother Healani’s had been. “I’ll bet you’d like that. But no. You want to talk to me; you can come inside and sit down. We’ll act all civilized, because that’s how I roll.” He’d been carrying a bunch of keys, and he unlocked a small gate next to the big retractable one.

  Lei walked in, and the dogs surged up off their beds and swarmed down the stairs, barking. They surrounded her. “I say the word and they’ll rip your throat out,” Chang said.

  “I expect no less.” Lei kept her eyes unwavering on his. “Lead on.”

  He snapped his fingers, and the dogs retreated to either side of him as he led the way back up onto the porch. He held the grilled steel front door open. “After you.”

  Lei went ahead of him, stifling the fearful knowledge that she could be walking to her own execution. She was gambling with a pair of twos, but the right bluff could win her the game. A prickling at the back of her neck reminded her that he was right behind her and so were the dogs.

  The interior was not as dim as she remembered. The place had been redecorated: white walls, a deep burgundy Persian rug, couches in pebbled chocolate leather, a wall-mounted flat screen.

  After so long and so much death, here she was, in the living room of the enemy.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured to a couch.

  Lei still stood, assessing. “Where is everybody?”

  Every other time she’d been at this house, it had been a teeming beehive of activity and relatives, all armed and dangerous.

  Terence Chang took a seat in what was plainly his usual spot, a designer leather chair facing the TV. “I live by myself now.” One of the dogs, the brindled one that Lei recognized from the raid a few years ago, sat beside Chang and leaned on his leg.

  Lei’s eyes had adjusted to the interior light, so she chose a spot on one of the couches nearest the door. She was still feeling her way, considering what to do. There wasn’t a blueprint for any of this. “You’ve made quite a lot of changes around here.”

  “Tutu left me the place and the business. I’m running it my way now.”

  She gazed at him. Chang had a handsome face, mixed heritage evident in the olive tan of his skin, flat cheekbones, and full lips. His tilted eyes were guarded but intelligent. She thought back to his belligerence and angry threats against her when he’d been in captivity with the FBI.

  “We have a history, you and I.”

  “Inherited. I’ve got no beef with you.”

  “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

  “Well, after that other situation, I took stock of my life. I was on probation for two years, as you know, and I cleaned house. Literally. Decided what I was going to do different, and one of the main things was to go straight. I have no need of the family business.”

  Lei sat back. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want. If you had anything on me, you’d be here guns blazing, looking for an excuse to blow my head off.” He leaned forward, hands between his knees, eyes intent. “Why are you here?”

  “Someone’s trying to kill me and my family, and I think it’s you.” Now Lei leaned toward him as well. She narrowed her eyes, her hand landing on her weapon. “I can kill you right now and walk away with no one the wiser.”

  “I live alone, but I have surveillance cameras and an alarm company. You don’t get to be who I am without backup. This whole thing is being recorded, and I’ve got an alarm button right here.” He held up what looked like a TV remote. “It dumps the surveillance footage off-site to a safe location, so don’t think you can go erase it.”

  Lei sat back again, smiled humorlessly. “You were always the smartest of the bunch.”

  “So they tell me.”

  A long pause as Lei tried to read him. She couldn’t see anything but a young man, extraordinarily self-contained, his hand stroking the head of his dog. She saw tenderness in that hand, intelligence in those eyes. Maybe he had changed from the hate-filled kid she remembered.

  “Then maybe you know who’s stalking me and my family and leaving shrouds as a calling card.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  Lei’s head jerked in surprise. “Go on.”

  “What do I get out of this?”

  Lei felt a smile pull up one side of her mouth. “Maybe you don’t know it, but you’ve been under both Hilo PD and the FBI’s microscope for some time now. I can guarantee that all-seeing eye will be moving on to other targets if you aren’t our guy.”

  “Of course I know I’m being monitored. I can’t fart without getting pulled over in Hilo. And you’ve got some pretty good hackers, too, always trying to drill into my businesses. But they’re all clean. Because I’m clean.” He held out open hands. “Nothing on me. No blood, drugs, whores, gambling. That’s the other branch of the Chang family.”

  “What other branch?” Lei frowned.

  “Who else do you know that’s a Chang with a long memory? Someone who has good reason to hate you?”

  Lei frowned. She thought of the young man with striking hazel eyes who’d tried to date her long ago, and his sister who’d gathered information by getting a job at her aunty’s restaurant in California. “Ray Solomon. Anela Chang. Haven’t thought of them in years.”

  “Well, they’ve thought of you,” Terence said.

  “Holy shit,” Lei breathed. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You know the old saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?” He sat back and steepled his fingers. “I’ve gone straight. But the Chang family enterprises are alive and well, under new management.”

  “I thought Ray was in a wheelchair.” Lei winced internally, remembering she’d put him there.

  “Yes, and it hasn’t sweetened his outlook, nor impaired anything but his legs.”

  “And Anela?”

>   “She was always the real brains of those two.”

  “So when did this begin?”

  “I think Ray began his power grab while he was doing time for his attack on you. For a while, I was having trouble figuring out what I was going to do. I was angry, lost without Tutu’s leadership. I thought I’d keep things going in the family business—but as soon as I got out from under the FBI’s microscope, I discovered everything was already under his and Anela’s thumbs. I’d been squeezed out.”

  “So much for growing a conscience and going straight.”

  “I never said I grew a conscience.” He shrugged, a hard light in his eyes telling Lei he was, first and foremost, a Chang.

  “Now all I need is a location where I can find Ray and Anela.” Lei fixed him with an unblinking Texeira stare.

  Chapter 11

  The Fireman had fallen into a light doze in front of the TV, watching the news, when the shrill buzz of the doorbell woke him.

  His heart went into overdrive, and he clutched his chest, willing that overactive organ to calm as he hoisted himself out of the rump-sprung couch. At the door, he applied his eye to the keyhole and, once again, saw the brown of a UPS uniform.

  He signed for the package and relocked the door behind the man. His heart rate hadn’t gone down, and his hands were sweaty as he carried the package over to the table and used a kitchen knife to slit the tape.

  Unfolding the flaps of the box, he uncovered rubber-banded stacks of cash and another folded note.

  Hello, Fireman. Nice fire, but they got out alive. You aren’t off the hook from this until you get the job done. This time I want a copy of your fire plan. The good news is, they haven’t left the property, and they’re all in that tiny cottage. It shouldn’t be too hard. The UPS man will be back to pick up from you tomorrow morning. Enclose the plan in the included delivery envelope and I’ll let you know if it’s approved. Will provide you more tech support as needed.

  A flat-rate delivery envelope was at the bottom of the box.

  The Fireman took out the bundled cash. Counted it. He now had eighteen thousand dollars in his pillowcase, more than he’d ever had in his life—but he was supposed to keep going after this family.

  His hands were clammy and trembling as he counted the cash again. He had until tomorrow to figure out another ignition plan, and right now, he couldn’t imagine approaching that property again, crawling with investigators who were looking for him.

  Wendy Watanabe, his favorite news reporter, was chirpily reviewing the results of the local election. She then switched seamlessly to another topic. “Tragedy almost struck on Maui late last night when the home of two of Maui’s finest police officers was burned to the ground. Sergeant Lei Texeira was away from the residence on an assignment, but her husband, Lieutenant Michael Stevens, their infant son, and their dog barely escaped an extremely aggressive blaze triggered by arson. If not for the quick action of Lieutenant Stevens’s brother, Jared, a firefighter who happened to be spending the night, the story would be even more tragic for this couple who have already lived through one blaze on Maui. Lieutenant Stevens is still injured from the fire and refused comment, but I was able to get Jared Stevens to talk about the fire. Jared, thank you for answering a few questions.”

  The camera swung to a young man’s face, chiseled and handsome. He was wearing yellow fire gear and he took off his hat, tucking it under his arm and running a hand through dark brown hair. Bold blue eyes looked into the camera as Jared said, “I was just doing what I do. Frankly, I feel bad I didn’t wake up sooner and couldn’t do more to get the fire under control.”

  “Tell us how it got started.”

  “Well, we’re still investigating, so you might want to ask Maui County Fire Investigator Tim Owen for a few words. I was sleeping in the living room and woke up to the blaze.” Jared described how he’d carried the baby out first and then helped his brother. “By the time the rest of the fire-suppression team got there, the house was too far gone. It was a really fast-moving fire.”

  The Fireman turned off the TV with an abrupt movement. His stomach churned. It was one thing to get a little revenge on Maui Sugar, burn some fields, enjoy letting the Bitch out to play. It was another to try to burn a family of cops and firefighters in their home.

  They were cops!

  “Oh God, help me!” The Fireman stood up, the enormity of the trouble he was in hitting him. He ran to the bathroom and retched over the toilet, but nothing came up. He’d been too keyed up to eat.

  And now the blackmailer wanted him to go after them again.

  The morning dragged for Stevens. He entertained Kiet, fixed his bottle, and called the insurance company to get the claim going. After Wayne returned, he fell asleep, tanked up on pain medication.

  He woke in the afternoon, alarmed that Lei still hadn’t arrived. He tried her phone repeatedly, but she never answered. Finally, sick of sitting and watching the driveway, he called South Hilo Station and asked for the chief.

  Ohale responded. “No, haven’t seen Lei today. She was here until late last night, though, working that vice case, doing computer research. My two detectives had a message from her; they were going to do some interviews today. But now she’s not answering her phone.”

  Stevens couldn’t act casual. “Our house was burned down last night. She said she’d come home as soon as she could, and she hasn’t.”

  Exclamations from the chief and explanations from Stevens about the house. Finally, a long silence from Bruce Ohale. “You worried?”

  “Hell yes!” Stevens found himself shouting. “My wife’s missing and someone’s trying to kill us!”

  “I’ll put some guys on this right away,” Ohale said. “Did she say where she was staying?”

  “No. Said it was a fleabag—that’s all.”

  “That could describe half the motels in Hilo, and I’m sorry to say I didn’t ask her, either. How about her rental car?”

  “I never heard. We had a little communication gap. Sorry I don’t have more for you to go on.”

  “Her phone. We can track her that way.”

  “No, she said it was on the fritz and she turned it off. Was using a burner.”

  Another long silence as they both mulled this over. “Seems like she might have been going off the grid,” Ohale said.

  “I’ve been concerned this whole time that she was really on the Big Island to go after the Changs herself,” Stevens said, every word feeling like a lead weight as it fell from his lips. “I told her our house was burned and we barely got out alive this morning. We have confirmation it was the shroud killer, too.” He told Ohale more details about the attack.

  “I’ll put the detectives she was working with on finding her, and we’ll start by checking on Chang’s residence right away. We’ll let you know,” Ohale promised. “I’m putting an APB out on her as a missing person. Take it easy, Stevens. We’ll find her. She’s smart and a survivor, and she’s pregnant. She’s not going to take undue risks.”

  “I hope so.” Stevens found himself echoing Pono’s earlier sentiment as he hung up.

  Wayne had put the baby down for a nap and came out of the back room. Stevens didn’t want to alarm him further. “I have to go into the station and take care of some things,” Stevens said, easing a pair of Wayne’s large house slippers over his burned feet.

  “What! You can’t go in today, man! You’re barely off oxygen!”

  “I have to. Got a lead on the arsonist,” he lied. “You gonna be okay here by yourself?”

  “I guess I’ll have to be. Don’t know where the heck Lei is,” he grumbled. “She should be here by now.”

  “I know. I’m going to check on that, too,” Stevens said, wincing as he eased a shirt down over his head.

  “Mike. I don’t know if you realize this, but ha
lf your hair is gone and your face is blistered. You look like hell.”

  “I need to do something to catch this guy.” Stevens rested his hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder. “I have a spare weapon in my truck. I’m going to leave it with you, and I’m sending Jared over here when he gets off work.”

  “I can handle myself.” Wayne flourished one of the steak knives, a light in his eye Stevens knew he would never want to encounter in a dark alley.

  “Still. Come with me and I’ll give you the gun.”

  Haggling out at the truck, Stevens ended up taking the smaller ankle rig he kept locked up for raids and leaving Wayne with his regular weapon. As he drove out of the property, every movement painful, his throat still throbbing, he used the phone Wayne had bought him to call Jared, leaving a message for his younger brother to go keep Wayne company at the cottage. He then called Ferreira.

  “Boss! What’s going on? I saw the news!” the older detective exclaimed.

  “I’m coming in. I think our arsonist may be the same one who has been starting the cane fires.” He told Ferreira why. “My wife is missing on the Big Island. I can’t leave Maui without an ID, and mine was burned.”

  “I’ll call the DMV and get them moving on making you another one,” Ferreira said. “Consider it done.”

  “Well, while I’m waiting for that, let’s work the case. We think the arsonist who burned our house could be the same guy.” He told Ferreira about the fuel mixture.

  “I have been working the case. Eliminated most of my list today, but we still have yours, and some places to go by, like that guy in Happy Valley who wasn’t home.”

  “Let’s start there. I want to get this arsonist.” Stevens hung up and pressed harder on the gas, ignoring his sore foot.