by Neal, Toby
“It’s true that Jazz knows way too much about the missing and didn’t surrender the stones he’d collected. Part of what I’ve been trying to investigate is his role in all this, but it’s been hard to establish.” Lei firmed up her voice and kept her hands in her lap, where she rubbed the black stone, anchoring herself. The FBI wouldn’t intimidate her if she could help it.
“Yes, we agree he’s a viable suspect.” Rogers spoke this time. Along with SAC Newsome, two other new agents sat at the table. No one had introduced them. “We’re digging deep into his records, forensic evidence, everything we can find in that binder. He’s got some connection with this killer, and he trusts you. At least to a degree. We want to keep that going.”
“And just when I’d decided he was exploiting me as a restaurant slave,” Lei said. No one laughed.
“For now we’d like to keep you in place at the Health Guardian and going to the cult celebration this Saturday. Obviously, don’t let Haddock know we’re in the picture,” Scott said.
“Obviously.” Lei inclined her head. “Well, I’ve got a shift to keep. Got anybody who wants to join me in this undercover venture? We can catch up out at the safe house in Kilauea. I’m not sure how much the cult is watching me, and I want to keep trips to the station minimal.”
“I’m coming in with you. We won’t want you to go to the cult alone.” Scott stepped away from the wall as she spoke. “I’m going to become your new best friend, and I want you to introduce me to Haddock.” Her dimpled smile had a lot of teeth. “For today just do your usual; I’ll meet you at the safe house this evening to strategize going undercover with you. We’re also going to be recording you and keeping Haddock under surveillance from now on.” She handed Lei a tiny earpiece and button mike.
“Sounds fun.” Lei gave back some toothiness as she took the equipment. “I can’t wait.”
She stood and walked out, putting some swing in her step. Her mind flashed to the phrase “can be oppositional with authority” that Lieutenant Ohale on the Big Island had written in her last performance appraisal. She needed to get herself in hand, but situations like this just didn’t seem to bring out the best in her.
“You going to be okay with all this?” Stevens had followed her out.
“I should ask you the same thing.” Lei walked on. The double doors whisked open with a pneumatic sigh.
“I’m not thrilled about it—I wanted us to be able to break this case open. But with so many bones and so little resources, it was past time to bring them in.”
“I know.” Lei unlocked her truck. “It’s weird, everything changing so fast, all these new people. At least I get to continue on the case for now.”
“I’m still organizing the cadaver hunt. They’re counting on our manpower; even with five agents here, the canvass of Hanalei Valley is going to take a lot of resources.”
“Okay. Well, going now.” The earlier kiss hung between them, haunting and magnetic. Stevens nodded and walked away.
Lei stood by the chain-link gate of the police safe house in Kilauea. Marcella Scott had called Lei to rendezvous there several hours into her workday. It had been a long morning at the Health Guardian with little to show for it, and now heightened tension thrummed through her.
A battered green Camaro pulled up, and Special Agent Marcella Scott got out of the driver’s side. Sleek brown hair hung in braids with curling ends, and she wore frayed denim shorts, flip flops on her feet, and a tank top emblazoned with Bob Marley over a long-sleeved tee. Lei wouldn’t have recognized her from the buttoned-down woman she’d met at the briefing.
“Ready to come work at the Guardian, I see,” Lei said. “What I don’t know how to do is sell you to Jazz.”
“Let me worry about that. You remember Matt Rogers from the briefing.” Marcella gestured to the brawny man who’d got out of the passenger side. The agent had mussed up his short hair and put on jeans and a T-shirt, but there was no disguising the military set of his shoulders as he swung a briefcase out from behind the bucket seat.
“Sure. Come on in.” Lei led the two agents into the little house and locked the door behind them as they did a quick assessment of the modest living space. She led them to the Formica kitchen table.
“Kaua`i Police Department uses this house for witnesses, retreats, whenever someone’s undercover. It’s not much, but it works. They keep the fridge stocked with some basics. Something to drink?”
“Water’s fine,” Marcella said. Rogers booted up a laptop from the case. Lei got a water bottle out of the fridge, handed it to the agent, and opened a Diet Coke for herself.
“Here’s the cover story. I’m your friend Marcella from the Big Island. Nothing to do with the investigation, but I need a job. I’m thinking I’ll offer to take your coffee shop job in the Guardian, and you can focus on developing your relationship with Jazz. Offer to be his personal assistant. Get in closer. Poke around his office. Meanwhile, Rogers is going to be our backup, keeping an eye from outside in the surveillance van.”
“Seems like you’ve got it covered.” Lei took a sip of her Diet Coke, leaning back against the counter. “What’s the rest of the task force doing?”
“Reassigned. They’re back to regular KPD cases. We’ve been getting up to speed at the station all day and working on different scenarios. With four field agents and two lab techs here, we should make some rapid progress.” Marcella cocked her head. “There was some interesting chatter on your comm today.”
“Not that I noticed,” Lei said. “Just Dan the smoothie guy talking story.”
“We thought his interest in you might be more than usual. He was asking a lot of questions.”
“He’s just friendly.” Lei made a flicking gesture. “Might want to get a little more than friendly, but I don’t think he’s got a lot upstairs. Speaking of which, what do you think of that guy Tiger? He’s got potential as a suspect.”
“We’ve been trying to find him in the system, but so far, no go. This Sunday I think Lani needs to bring her friend Marcella to the cult festivities. While we’re there, I’ll get samples and photos to help us ID him.”
“I don’t know if Jazz will go for that. He’s going to be suspicious about just bringing you into the store.”
“Let me handle it.” Marcella smiled. “I think he’ll be interested in what I can add to the celebration. I’m a trained belly dancer.”
“Belly dancer!” Rogers exclaimed. Marcella’s dimple deepened.
“Never know what you’ll need to do in the service of our government. I also speak four languages. Did some time overseas. Belly dancing came in handy more often than I want to think about.”
Marcella Scott was a woman with brains and a body who knew how to use both to solve her cases. Lei was just beginning to realize the potential of this.
“Maybe you can show me some moves.” Lei eyed the agent over her Diet Coke.
“This I gotta see.” Rogers winked at his partner.
“All you get is your surveillance scope.” Marcella went on to outline the plan the FBI had put together for Saturday night.
Lei felt the frisson of apprehensive excitement that made the job addicting tighten her sternum. She could hardly wait.
Lei pushed the clattering wooden beads that screened Jazz’s door aside and stuck her head in.
“Hello?”
Jazz pushed back from the computer. A smile lit his face. “My favorite undercover cop. Just need a few more like you and we’d be really raking in the dough.”
“About that.” Lei came in and gave Marcella’s hand a tug, closing the inner door behind them as the shapely agent followed her into the dim office. “This is my friend Marcella. She needs a job.”
Jazz took a minute to roll his eye over the Marley shirt and beads the agent had on, and Marcella brought out the dimple and white teeth. “I’m a hard worker. I just want a chance to show you what I can do.” She cocked a hip in short shorts.
Lei wondered if the agent was laying it on
a little thick.
“She a cop?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Does she look like a cop? She’s my friend from the Big Island.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Marcella broke character, digging into her tight pocket and producing a creds wallet. “Special Agent Marcella Scott, FBI,” she said.
Jazz recoiled away from them in his rolling chair. “Oh no. No. This isn’t what I signed on for.”
“We’ve done a little background workup on you, Mr. Haddock. Tax evasion is just the beginning of what we found. This store looks like an ideal front for drug dealing. Cooperate with our investigation, or spend some time in Halawa Prison,” Marcella said, the dimple still in place and the smile a little unnerving now.
“You don’t understand. The cult trusts me. I can’t bring more cops in. I’d be finished in this town.”
“Look at us,” Marcella said. “Do we look like cops? Yeah, we’ll have a surveillance team on us, but you’ll never know they’re there and neither will anyone else. The only thing we want is the murderer who’s disappearing people you claim to care about.”
Jazz leaned forward, bringing a shaking hand up to rub his eyes. Lei saw Marcella taking in the dimly lit office, the rich scent of incense, the straining wail of sitar music in the background.
“All right.”
“All right,” Lei echoed. “And since Marcella’s coming on, how about I help you organize back here? She can take the front. I’ll take the back.”
“I don’t need office help.”
Lei gestured to the teetering pile of invoices held down with a chunk of amethyst.
“You do too. It’s not like we’re investigating you or anything.” She wished she could cross her fingers behind her back.
He shook his head. Marcella switched the charm back on.
“We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Haddock. You’re going to be a hero when we catch this guy.”
“Okay, okay,” Jazz muttered, and turned away. “Have Dan show her the ropes and come back here. I guess I could use a hand with the billing.”
Chapter 29
Saturday, October 30
Late Saturday morning, Lei toweled off from a shower and rubbed fragrant coconut oil into her skin. Her shoulders were reddened from running on the beach, freckles standing out against her olive skin. She rubbed the oil all over, feeling a little refreshed by cleaning up, but not in the mood for some mysterious date with Alika. She was too keyed up about the undercover op at the papaya farm. She’d already tried to call and cancel and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, saying plans were already in motion.
She flicked on some mascara along with some sparkly lip gloss and slipped on the Tahitian pearl earrings her aunt had given her for graduation. The Ni`ihau shell necklace Mac had given her never came off anymore. Instead of a dress, she pulled on narrow black jeans and a black silk tank top, slipping her feet into the new slingbacks.
She heard an unfamiliar thrumming sound and hurried to the window. A black helicopter was approaching, the wind off the props vibrating the air and muting everything but its powerful roar. It wove back and forth as it settled toward the ground, rippling, then flattening the grass in the open area between her house and the Abacans’ in prop wash. Lei ran out onto the porch, and her mouth fell open at the sight of Alika behind the controls, face obscured by mirrored sunglasses and flight helmet.
Keiki went apeshit barking, and getting her under control gave Lei a few minutes to regroup and act casual by the time Alika cut the engine and ran out from under the slowing rotors to her gate.
“Surprised?”
“You could tell?” Lei teetered down the porch steps, introduced Keiki to Alika. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”
Lei gestured to the Abacans, who’d poured out of their house en masse and clustered on their porch. The oldest Abacan grandkid, a gangly boy in ragged cutoffs, approached. “Can I see the inside?”
“Eh, howzit,” Alika said, giving the kid a fist bump. He must have appeared the ultimate in cool. “Sure.”
The other two kids ran over.
“Have fun with that,” Lei said. “I’ve got to go grab my jacket.” She left him showing the inside of the helicopter to the kids as she clomped back into the house, shouldering into her jean jacket and picking up the small black handbag she never used. On impulse, she slipped her Glock inside.
“A smart girl’s always prepared,” she muttered, feeling ambivalent. She fluffed her nonexistent hair in the mirror by the door and tucked the purse under her arm, a little surprised at how much better she felt with the weight of the gun in it. She clip-clopped out to the helicopter.
Mrs. Abacan rounded up the kids as Alika opened the curved Plexiglas passenger side door for her, giving her a courtly boost under the elbow as she stepped onto the strut to get inside. She waited until he got in to give him a good stare.
“You a safe driver? I have trust issues.”
“Been certified to fly helicopters since my stint in the air force. I’m a half owner of this little beauty. I wanted to show you more of the island, some things you wouldn’t normally see. Put your harness on.”
He showed her how to buckle it. The straps pinned her against the molded seat, and she immediately felt claustrophobic. She stuck one hand into her pocket to touch the black stone, sucking a few relaxation breaths.
“This is a Bell 206 Jetranger,” Alika went on, telling her about the various functions of the dials and knobs in front of them. Lei looked out of the curved window of the Bell and did a few more relaxation breaths. It didn’t seem to be working.
“Put your helmet on,” Alika said. “It has audio built in.” When she made no move to take the bulky plastic headwear, he set it gently on her head, adjusted the strap under her chin. His voice came clearly through the audio.
“You okay? You look a little off.”
“Okay.” She gave a wan smile and thumbs-up. “Let’s just do it.”
He reached over, patted her leg, and began their takeoff procedure. Minutes later they rose slowly, Keiki watching from the porch with her ears flattened.
Chapter 30
Lei’s anxiety began to recede as the glorious topography of Kaua`i opened up beneath her. Fertile Hanalei Valley with its patchwork quilt of taro patches, rugged, lush mountains, cerulean ocean, and plumed waterfalls distracted her with wonder.
Alika made an effort to fly as smoothly as possible, as they followed the dramatic curve of the coast to the Na Pali cliffs. As they hit the ridgeline, the wind swatted at them, causing stomach-dropping bumps until he lifted the collective and took them up and over, spinning off toward the center of the island.
“Where are we going, exactly?” Lei asked.
“Somewhere special. You won’t see this any other way.”
She took it all in, pressing her forehead against the window. Sheer miles of trackless jungle flowed by without any human stamp. Alika brought them to a wide mesa that overlooked the ocean, marked by a tall green spire. He gently set the chopper down and cut the engine. As the rotors whined down, Lei realized terror had morphed into euphoria, an expanding bubble of joy. She took the headset off and threw her arms around him.
“Wow,” she said. “Wow. No wonder the tourists do these helicopter tours. I never understood it before. Thank you.”
He tipped her chin up and tried to kiss her, but she didn’t have time for that and pulled away, opening her door and hopping out, forgetting she was in heels and promptly landing on her butt in the tussocky grass. He was laughing as he came around the front of the Bell and gave her a hand up.
“Why’d you tell me to wear something nice?” she grumbled. He gestured toward a little cabana that had been set near the edge of the mesa, and Lei tripped again, gasping at the sight. “Oh my God.”
He wrapped an arm around her as they made their way over to the little striped tent. A folding table had been set up with a couple of chairs on a Persian carpet; an aluminum bu
cket held chilled champagne in melting ice, and a big wicker basket hinted of a tasty lunch to come.
“Oh my God,” Lei said again. “I don’t know what to say.”
His smile gleamed with satisfaction. “Speechless. I like it.” He pulled her chair out and she sat, taking in the enormous vista. “Champagne?”
“Hell yes. Make it a double.”
Lei propped herself on her elbow and fed Alika a grape. He’d thought of everything—not only the folding table, but the carpet with a futon and a pile of colored pillows. They’d been kissing for what seemed like hours, and she knew it was the moment of truth as he looked at her with his half-lidded golden eyes. Waiting for her decision.
She squelched a last blink of doubt. This was what she wanted, who she wanted. He would help her get over Stevens once and for all. She sat up and peeled the silk top off her head, unzipped her jeans and wiggled out of them. She wore her best underwear, a lacy black bra and panties. He pretended to lick his chops, and pulled her toward him by the hips. She laughed as he buried his face in her stomach, growling as he swirled his tongue in her navel. She leaned backward to support herself as he trailed kisses down her abdomen, and her hand landed on the fringe of the carpet.
She found herself holding something that was caught there. He was still kissing her, moving lower down, as she brought the object up in front of her eyes.
A thin gold bracelet.
She pushed his head away, sat up. Turned the bracelet in her hands. It was a classic Hawaiian design with hibiscus flowers and maile leaves around the outside, and inside, in delicate script: For Lisa with love, Alika
She looked up at him. She never would have imagined his face could be so pale. His eyebrows stood out like black slashes. He reached out and took the bracelet from her, and his hand trembled.
“Impossible. Lisa always wore this.”