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

by Toby Neal

  She endured the captain’s rant about the trouble she’d caused and felt her throat tighten as he told her how Stevens had called her in as a missing person. “I’ll get SWAT mustered out on this, but if this raid is a dud, I’ll have your badge myself,” Ohale barked, hanging up so hard she recoiled from the sound.

  It was time to call Stevens. He picked up right away, his voice raspy and ragged.

  “Lei! My God, where are you?”

  “I’m okay. I’m on the shroud killer,” Lei said. Hearing Stevens’s voice made tears well up. “You have to understand. I’m going to make them stop coming after us.”

  “Lei! No, dammit! The chief’s got his men looking for you!”

  “I just talked to Ohale. It’s not the Chang we thought it was, and we’re going in with SWAT to raid the place.” She kept her voice as flat and uninflected as she could. “It’s not Terence Chang behind the attacks—it’s been Ray Solomon and Anela. They took over the family business, not Terence, which is why Sophie never could find anything on him. Anyway, I don’t expect you to agree with what I’ve done. We can work this all out later when they’re in custody. I love you.” She hung up, turning off the ringer.

  She knew she was burning him right now.

  Burning the trust and companionship they’d built.

  Burning the love between them.

  But Lei had decided she would worry about fixing her marriage when she’d stopped their real enemy—because none of it mattered as long as the shroud killer was after them.

  Chapter 13

  Stevens picked up his weapon, checked separately, and duffel bag and strode out of the Hilo Airport. Captain Ohale was leaning on his beefed-up police SUV. A line separated his brows, and Oakleys hid his eyes as Stevens arrived at the curb.

  “You look like hell, man,” Ohale said. “Sure you’re up to this?”

  “I’ve been through hell, and pissed as hell is what I am,” Stevens said. “Just a little singed around the edges.” He kept forgetting his burns were so obvious—being back on the job had kept his mind off it.

  “We’re on our way out to the meth lab location,” Ohale said. “I’ve got Kevlar in the back for you and some extra weapons.”

  “Thanks for picking me up.” Stevens tossed his bag into the backseat and picked up the vest. He got in beside the burly chief. “So you heard from Lei? She told me she called you.”

  “This intel better be legit. I’m serious. I’ve got full SWAT gathered from all over the island. They’re meeting Lei at a checkpoint near the Chang compound, which is way out in the jungle.” The chief put on his siren and lights to get through the backed-up traffic of downtown Hilo. “If it turns out to be bogus and not the big operation she says it is, I’m going to be the first in line to take away your wife’s badge.”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Stevens said. He bit down on all the rest he wanted to say. None of it would help the situation, which hopefully, was coming to a head and soon would be resolved. He checked in with himself on that. If Lei was right and these Changs were the culprits behind the shrouds, was he going to feel better about Lei taking off without him?

  No. No, he wasn’t. Not just because she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him what she was up to, but also because she’d put herself in danger even as she’d excluded him. He felt a vicious satisfaction that he was going to be there at the takedown of the shroud killer anyway.

  They blazed through Hilo’s run-down urban sprawl and distinctive banyan-tree-lined harbor and into the outskirts, Ohale getting updates on the radio periodically.

  They drove and drove, down a winding two-lane asphalt road through overhanging jungle. The area had an oppressive, steamy feel, and not a breath of wind stirred huge trees trailing draped vines over the road. Stevens thought of Lei coming out here alone, hunting these dangerous gangsters, and that steel band of anger and fear tightened even further.

  Ohale finally whipped a right turn onto a tiny road that broke the monotony of the jungle. Stevens was pretty sure if he’d been driving, he would have missed it. Ohale plowed the SUV into the bushes beside several other similar vehicles. The SWAT team was gathering on the road. They had set up sawhorse barriers to keep anyone from coming in or out.

  Stevens’s heart sped up. Finally. Lei was here.

  And sure enough, as he got out of the SUV, he heard a door slam and there she was, wearing an oversized Kevlar vest that came to the bottom of her hips, her face tense and so pale that the little freckles stood out like flecks of nutmeg on cream, her wild curls trapped into a rubber-banded ball on the back of her head.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  He wanted to grab her and smash her against him and kiss her into submission, and when he had her where he wanted her, he’d put her over his knee and spank that ass until she cried. Instead he stared her down without a word, feeling the anger he’d been battling swell in his chest and shoot out of his eyes.

  Lei blinked tear-filled brown eyes, pleading with him. Her full mouth trembled. “I did it for us. For our family.”

  Ohale broke the spell, stomping around the vehicle to grab Lei’s arm. “You two can have your domestic spat after the raid. Texeira, we need intel. Come over here.” He hauled her, still gazing back at Stevens, over to the SWAT leader.

  Stevens blinked to refocus himself, breathing deeply through his nose as he watched his wife. She oriented herself in front of the map spread out on the hood of one of the SUVs.

  “Give me a pen.” Someone handed her a Sharpie, and she drew a rough rectangle down a thread of road on the map. “I have the witness in the car who told me about the compound. Let me get him.” She hurried back to the rental car and opened the passenger door. Stevens’s eyes widened as he saw that it was Terence Chang cuffed to the door. The young man’s face twisted with anger.

  “Screw you, Texeira,” Chang spat. “You have no right to hold me.”

  Lei ignored this and unlocked one side of the cuffs, then grabbed Chang by the hair and hauled him out of the car. Stevens felt one side of his mouth pull up in a reluctant smile as she thrust the man over to the SWAT team.

  Lei was just so badass. God, she pissed him off—and still she impressed him. Was their relationship ever going to be simple? He was pretty sure it wasn’t.

  “I’m not helping you,” Chang said. “I demand to speak to a lawyer.”

  “You’re not being charged with anything,” Ohale said. “You’re a witness. That’s all, at this point.”

  Lei had gone back to the car, and this time she brought an electronic tablet over. “He drew a diagram on this.”

  The team conferred over the tablet, peppering Chang with questions. At some point the young man decided it was in his best interest to cooperate and potentially get his cousins neutralized, because soon he was drawing on the map and showing them what he knew about the compound. Finally, he said, “That’s all I know.”

  Ohale looked at Lei. “You two are staying here until the raid’s over. You can stow him in the back of my SUV, and we’ll formalize his statement back at the station after the raid.”

  “Captain, I’m going on the raid. I’m the one who brought you in!” Lei exclaimed, a flush sweeping up her neck to stain her cheeks with red, that blush Stevens knew she hated. “I deserve to be there!”

  “You’ve been ordered by the FBI not to have anything to do with the Changs, and I can’t allow your presence to taint our case,” Ohale said. “Take the witness to my vehicle, guard him, and wait until we get back. You’ve done more than enough today.”

  Stevens felt that satisfaction again. That will fix her wagon, dammit. He caught Ohale’s eye and gave a tiny nod of thanks, but the captain pretended not to see it.

  “Saddle up, everyone. Get all the weapons you can carry and plenty of extra ammo,” the SWAT leader said.
“We’re breaking into three teams. Lieutenant Stevens, Captain Ohale, you’re with Sergeant George here. We’ll approach from three directions and generate some shock and awe.”

  Stevens saw Lei give Chang’s arm an angry tug as she led the man back to the captain’s SUV with its grilled, prisoner-holding backseat.

  Good. She’ll be safe. That’s all that really matters.

  Stevens gave his full attention to the SWAT leader and the plan of attack.

  Lei stuffed Terence Chang into the back of Ohale’s SUV. As she did so, she spotted Stevens’s duffel bag on the seat. She pulled it out and tossed it in the passenger-side front seat.

  “Hey. Can I at least be cuffed in front? He said I’m not being charged with anything,” Chang said.

  Lei turned Chang around and put the cuffs back on, looser this time.

  “Seems like a lot of manpower and gun power.” He licked his lips nervously. “Think it’s going to be enough?”

  “I’m not discussing it with you. Get in. I’ll roll the windows down.”

  Chang complied.

  Lei busied herself with shutting the door and making sure it was locked before she returned to Ohale’s side.

  “Captain. Can I get your keys?” she whispered so as not to interrupt the SWAT leader’s planning. Ohale dug them out of his pocket without looking at her and slapped them into her hand. Lei couldn’t help looking over at Stevens.

  He was standing tall, his legs braced wide, arms crossed on his chest, eyes intent on the SWAT leader. Even as conflicted as she was, the sight of him took her breath away.

  But it was like she’d ceased to exist for him. Her heart felt bruised at the anger she’d seen in his flame-burned face. Her gaze drifted over the injured side of his head. His dark hair was scorched down to stubble, his cheek and square jaw blistered. She could see more red marks on his arms, and his hands were covered in black leather shooting gloves, probably to protect burns on his hands.

  Lei felt herself frowning as she turned and went back to the SUV.

  Stevens couldn’t be that badly injured if he was here, participating in the raid, but she couldn’t wait to get his clothes off and inspect the damage.

  That was if he let her get close to him again.

  Making her stay back—it was all a male conspiracy. Ohale was holding her back because she was pregnant. They were all in it together, the bastards. She balled her fists, realized she was more embarrassed than angry, humiliated by Ohale’s words to her in front of the men, humiliated by Stevens refusing to speak to her.

  Ohale had a reasonable objection, though. Her involvement could provide defense attorneys with arguing points.

  The situation was out of her hands, so she’d have to make the best of it. After they left, she could set up a sniper station and watch the road, at least.

  Lei went around to the back of the SUV and hit the button, releasing the hatch. “Thought you were going to roll down the windows. It’s getting hot in here,” Chang complained.

  “All in good time,” Lei said, picking up a sharpshooter rifle from the pile of weaponry in back, along with an extra weapon. She stowed the pistol in her belt.

  Stevens appeared. “What are you doing?” His voice was rough and gravelly. “I heard the captain tell you to stay back and guard the witness.”

  “This is me staying back and guarding the witness,” Lei said, trying for neutral.

  Ohale appeared on the other side. “You can keep the sniper rifle and watch the road,” he said. “But don’t leave the witness. We need him alive.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Chang piped up from the backseat. “Your concern is touching.”

  Stevens narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything further, instead picking up a second pistol and a hip holster ringed in ammo loops, along with a pump-action shotgun and a handful of tear-gas grenades.

  Lei took her time loading the sniper rifle with copper-jacketed long-distance ammo, watching Stevens out of the corner of her eye. He rammed shotgun shells into the loops around the belt holster, then slung it around his waist and cranked the buckle.

  She wished the sight didn’t do something melty to her insides, but it did. He was a warrior, girding for battle, and she just wanted to be at his side.

  Beside him, Ohale was almost done loading up. The station chief looked downright intimidating, especially once he pulled a black-visor helmet out of the back and put it on, handing another one to Stevens.

  Lei slid another shell into the loader, ratcheted it in. Held up the gun, sighted through the viewfinder down the road, thinking back to her FBI sniper training. She’d done well at distance shooting and was glad to feel the familiar heft of the steel in her arms. It was a good distraction.

  “Glad to see you wearing a vest, at least.” Stevens sliced narrowed blue eyes at her, the black helmet under his arm. He was referring to the baby, she knew. Lei ignored this, busying herself with her weapon as he loaded the last of the shotgun shells in his belt and then stowed the grenades in pockets on his vest.

  “Moving out!” the commander said from up ahead. “Helmets and comms on!”

  Ohale brushed past Lei, striding off.

  Lei felt rather than saw Stevens, suddenly beside her. Felt his gloved hand grab her chin, tilting her head up. Felt his mouth brand hers in a hard, hot kiss that instantly overwhelmed her and promised all the retribution she had coming.

  That kiss was contradicted by the gentle touch of his hand on her cheek as his lips left hers. Her eyes were closed, blinded by instant tears. He spun away, clapping the sleek black helmet on and disappearing down the road at a jog with the rest of the men.

  “Touching,” Chang said. “Mind rolling down the windows?”

  Lei forced her legs to work, walking around to the front of the SUV. She leaned the sniper rifle on the fender and opened the door, inserting the key to roll down the windows. Damn, that man was her personal kryptonite.

  She wondered, feeling the tightness of fear for the team as they disappeared down the road, if that was what she was for him, too.

  Chapter 14

  The Fireman woke up by degrees, awareness dawning with the red light he began to be able to process behind his eyes.

  He was aware of a terrible weariness. Breathing was an effort. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to be gummed shut, and that sent a spike of panic shooting to his heart. That overworked organ responded with that familiar flip-flopping sensation. This time that sensation triggered an alarm, and the Fireman heard people responding to the shrill beeping with a bustle and murmur of voices. Seconds later, he felt something warm and energizing stabilize his heart rate as medication hit his system.

  Medication. He must be in a hospital.

  “My eyes won’t open,” he muttered.

  “Oh, let me help you with that.” Some sort of wetness on his eyes, and then, blinking, he was able to open them. He looked around blearily. He was in a hospital bed, and two nurses were beside him, one on either side. They were watching the heart monitor.

  There were no flowers. No visitors. There was no one to know or care that he was here. Despair felt like it flowed from his damaged heart down his veins like black poison.

  “Did I have a heart attack?” His voice felt wispy.

  “Yes, sir, you did. In fact, it’s a good thing you woke up. You can discuss the surgery you need with the doctor,” one of the nurses said. She was young and pretty, and white teeth almost blinded him when she smiled.

  He remembered something bad had been happening when he fell at the door. What was it? “I don’t remember how I got here.”

  “You collapsed in your apartment. Some police officers called it in,” she said. “You were so lucky they were there. They kept you alive with CPR until the ambulance came.”

  Dimly, he remembered no
w, the mental images as blurred as newspaper with coffee spilled on it.

  Packing in his bedroom.

  The bell at the door. Two men. Cops.

  His heart squeezed again, and on the monitor it bounced like a salmon leaping upstream.

  “Cough,” the nurse commanded. The Fireman coughed, and the heart line on the monitor settled back to its regular blipping. “You need to avoid stress until you have your operation,” the nurse said, and she patted his hand. “If it acts up again, cough and see if you can get it back in rhythm. If not—well, the alarm will bring us. Doctor will be here shortly to tell you about the procedure you need.”

  The Fireman watched the two nurses leave. They’d turned on the TV, but it was muted. He watched the images move, talk, dance, and change. A meaningless pantomime.

  His life was over.

  That pillowcase of money had been on his bed, along with his ticket to Oahu. They’d either have left it, in which case it would be stolen—or worse, they’d taken it in as evidence against him.

  His heart jerked.

  He coughed, and it settled again.

  Yes. His life was over. Did he want to live, with prison ahead? His life had already been empty of anything good or lovely, except the Bitch when she was flaming around him in her glory. No. He didn’t want to live. Go through a trial. End his pathetic days in a cell.

  All he needed was a little stress to finish him off.

  He reached over and peeled off the electrodes taped over his heart. The machine whined flatly in protest, but now he was determined. He yanked out the IV running into his hand and sat up, his head swimming. He swung his legs out of the bed, and feeling the first sense of hope he’d had in weeks, he stood up and walked into his destiny.

  Stevens trotted with Ohale and the SWAT commander assigned to them down the main road. They’d decided to penetrate the jungle and come at the compound from three sides, but not the front drive with the cameras. Stevens’s group was coming from the far right of where they’d been parked.