by Larry Darter
“For the sake of everyone involved in this, I must have those names by tomorrow,” Mike said. “T. J., you’re walking a thin line if you haven’t already crossed it.”
“I’m confident I’ll have it sorted before noon tomorrow, and I’ll ring you, Mike.”
Mike nodded. He looked at his watch for the second time in the past five minutes. I reckoned I knew why.
“Are you living together?” I said.
Mike looked sheepish again, and a bit of color rose in his cheeks.
“Yes, since last month,” he said.
“Awesome,” I said. “Off you go then. Go home to Oshiro. We’ve had our chat, and we’ve finished here.”
“I’m sorry, T. J.,” Mike said. “It wasn’t how I wanted things to turn out. I’d love it if things could go back to how they were with us.”
“Not your fault,” I said. “I never realized how much you needed a family and kids. I thought you were prepared to wait a bit, and I wasn’t ready for what you wanted. If anyone should apologize, it’s me. And, I want you to be happy, Mike. Even if it means you’re with her.”
“Thanks.”
“Right,” I said flicking a tear away with a finger. “Go, I’ll get the check.”
“No way,” Mike said. “I’ll get it. After the way I’ve acted, it’s the least I can do.”
“Ahkay then, cheers,” I said standing up. “See you.”
I left Mike sitting in the booth, and went home, packing a sad.
Seventeen
The first threads of sunlight were only beginning to sneak between the slats of the bamboo window blinds. I’d been awake for hours, but unwilling to force myself to leave my warm bed. I’d fallen asleep the night before feeling the sheer emotional exhaustion of someone trying to wrestle her conscience to the ground and then had awakened only to endure the continued assault of self-recriminations.
The more I thought about the total cock up I’d made of the relationship with Mike, and the schoolgirl crush on Malone I’d stubbornly clung to knowing he would never be available the more the single voice of self-criticism inside my head sounded more like a chorus.
To make matters worse, my mind was lurching from Mike to Malone then to the exquisite memories of Nick and me during our lustful tête-à-tête which I’d frankly found amazing. With the memory of those delights came the physical manifestations of the excitement the memories carried.
I felt goosebumps on my skin, an increase in my heart rate, the pull of the heat and pooling moisture at the confluence of my thighs, and most of all the need, the overwhelming need I felt and wanted to satiate, to satiate now. If only Nick were here now, beside me in my bed. Dreamily I imagined reaching out for him. The phone. If I rang him, would he come I wondered? Would he come to sate my consuming passion and need?
Ugh! Why did I torture myself this way? I pulled my hands from beneath the covers and threw them back. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and tugged my tee shirt down. I needed a shower, as much as I hated the idea, a cold one. Then I had to grab a quick brekkie and head over to the Lawrence home. I had miles to go and promises to keep.
It was a few minutes before nine in the morning when I squeezed the motorbike into the drive beside the old sun-faded red Ford sedan on Kaululaau Street. I followed the cement footpath to the front door. I was already raising my hand and making a fist to knock when I noticed the door was ajar a few centimeters and then saw the dusty shoe print below the knob. I stood completely still and listened, but heard nothing from inside.
Cautiously, I pushed on the door with two fingers until it stood open. Lights were on in the lounge and in the small dining room beside it. The smells told me someone had recently cooked brekkie. I called out to Ken and then Chloe. There was no answer. I stepped inside. There was a shard of interior wooden door frame laying on the floor. The door frame around the lock was splintered. Someone had kicked in the door. I walked to the dining area.
Two plates of scrambled eggs and fried Spam were on the table, a meal half-eaten. The orange juice glasses were nearly full as were the two coffee cups. I felt one of the ceramic cups. It was still warm to the touch. It was if Chloe and her father had got up in the middle of eating and walked out. I peeked around the corner into the kitchen, dreading what I feared I might find. There was no one there. The cook pans were still on the stove top. I felt a chill run up my spine and a growing sense of foreboding.
Walking down the hallway, I looked inside the bedrooms and finally the bathroom. They were all empty. I went back to the lounge. At least there was no blood, and thankfully no dead bodies. There were no signs of a struggle. Only the broken front door suggested anything was amiss, besides the two missing people I’d come to see. I couldn’t imagine they had suddenly left for a morning stroll without finishing brekkie. I retreated outside to the front porch. No point to contaminating the scene any more than I had already. At least I had touched nothing since arriving except the door when I pushed it open to enter the house.
After several deep breaths, a modicum of my wits returned. Bugger, fuck, shit, bloody hell. My voice pegged up a notch with each swear word. Someone must have abducted Chloe and her dad. It seemed the only logical explanation. While I was trying to think my mobile rang giving me a hell of a fright. I pulled it from my pocket and looked at the screen. It was Brandi Camargo calling. She would have to wait. I had to call Mike, and right bloody now.
Two black and white Honolulu police cars with four officers in their tidy blue uniforms and shiny badges arrived a few minutes after I hung up with Mike. I had just finished answering questions from the officer who seemed in charge when Mike rolled up in his unmarked car. He got out and walked over.
“It’s a possible abduction, like the lady says, Detective Young,” the uniformed officer I’d been talking with said to Mike. Mike nodded and turned to me.
“You don’t think they may have just taken off?”
“Not even,” I said. “The front door is broken. They left food on the table half-eaten.”
Another uniformed officer walked up and spoke to Mike. “We’ve talked to the neighbors. A lady two doors down said she heard no disturbance except for tires squealing a little around eight-thirty this morning. She looked out the window and saw a newer silver Camaro speeding away. She said it might have left from this residence. She wasn’t able to get a look at the occupants.”
“Might be a coincidence, but I know someone who drives a newer Camaro,” I said. “He could be loosely connected.”
“Is it silver?” Mike said.
“Aw dunno, but I know someone I can call to find out.”
“Okay, why don’t you do that. I want to take a look inside the house.”
“Sure,” I said.
Mike went toward the house with two of the other cops.
I pulled out my phone again and dialed Nick’s mobile. When he answered, I could hear sounds like rushing winds.
“T. J.? I was hoping you would call, eventually.”
I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Where are you?” I said.
“On the dive boat,” he said.
“Ah, that explains the wind noise. Is Justin with you?”
“Justin? No, why?”
“Just checking,” I said.
“He isn’t working today,” Nick said. “He took a sick day. The boss gave me his classes. Why the sudden interest in Justin, anyway? I thought you hated the dude.”
“I do, but I must explain it later,” I said. “What color is Justin’s Camaro?”
“Uh, light gray? Silver maybe? Why?”
“He may be involved in the case I’m working,” I said. “But, I have to go now. Love to tell you all about it, later.”
“Okay,” Nick said. “We’re almost at the dive spot, anyway. Hey, want to get together this evening?”
My stomach and other bits clenched a little as the memories of my morning came flooding back.
“Ah, sure, ahkay,” I said. “
What time you off?”
Nick said, “Around four, four-thirty maybe.”
“Ahkay. Do you know where The Likelike pub is?”
“On Hotel Street?”
“Yep, that one,” I said. “I’ll meet you there at six o’clock if that works.”
“Awesome,” Nick said. “See you there.”
“Can’t wait,” I said. “See you soon.”
We hung up.
Bloody marvelous. Two people I was supposed to be helping had gone missing, likely kidnapped, maybe dead. And all I could think about was getting my bloody wanton physical needs sated. I was just a class girl. At least I hadn’t suggested we cut to the chase and rendezvous directly in his bed at the flat. Why was I feeling so randy?
Mike came back out, and I tried to re-focus from private bits to abductions.
“Did you find out the color of the Camaro you were thinking of?”
“Yep, silver,” I said. “The guy who drives it is named Justin Wood. He is a dive instructor at the Moana Dive Shop. I just talked with another employee there who said Justin took a sick day today and isn’t at work.”
Mike turned to a uniformed officer. “Get the plate number for a silver Camaro registered to a Justin Wood,” he said. “Get his license information, then have communications put out a stop and detain BOLO on the car.”
“On it, detective,” the officer said.
“Just a thought,” I said. “The car might be registered to my client Brandi Camargo. Someone has told me she purchased the car for Justin. They see each other.”
The uniformed cop nodded. “Got it, I’ll check it both ways.”
“What do we do now?” I said to Mike.
“A call on William Chambers might be a good start,” Mike said, “until we get something on Justin Wood. Once we get the car registration information, I’ll send a unit by Wood’s address to see if he is home. But, sorry, there is no ‘we’ in any of that. It’s police business, and you can’t come along.”
“Aw, maaaaate! Stink one. I gave you all the information, you must let me go. Besides, I can identify the two who were kidnapped. You don’t even know their names.”
“Sure do, I already found out the house is owned by a Beatrice Roberts,” Mike said. “I know at least one name.”
“Awesome,” I said. “You can find Beatrice by checking the area cemetery records. Beatrice carked it a while ago. She hasn’t been abducted unless a grave robber did it.”
Mike frowned. “Then who was abducted?”
“Take me with you, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” I said.
“You’re a stubborn woman, you always have to have it your way,” Mike said.
“Be nice, Mike,” I said. “We’re making a new start as mates, remember?”
“Dammit, okay, you can go,” Mike said clearly frustrated. “But, unless I say otherwise, you stay in the car.”
I grinned at him. “Sweet as,” I said. “I’ve been keen as to do a police ride along.”
Eighteen
On our ride to Chambers’ house, I gave up the names of Chloe and Ken Lawrence to Mike. Now that they were in danger, it was necessary and only sensible to tell him who they were. Secretly, I also hoped my cooperative spirit would encourage Mike to allow me to be present when he interviewed Chambers.
Mike had already got the addresses of both Chambers and Austin Bryce that morning before I’d phoned him about the possible abduction. It seemed interesting Chambers lived near the Lawrence home. He had a flash house in Tantalus, a more upscale neighborhood just beyond Makiki Heights and high above Honolulu. The area was far above my price range when I’d been shopping for a home. I’d heard many of the houses in Tantalus occupying the large tropical forested lots were valued in the two to three million dollar range.
William Chambers lived on Poloke Place in a two-story house of such modern design it surprised me. Given his age, I had expected something more traditional. The house was built against a background of the pristine, lush rain forest, tropical flowers, and hanging vines.
I was chuffed when Mike shot me a sidelong glance and gave me permission to get out of the car when we arrived. We stood together beneath a covered porch when the front door opened after Mike had pressed the bell. Mike showed his badge to the rather large, stocky Asian man wearing a white suit who answered the door and said we were here to see William Chambers. The man was built like a sumo wrestler. He said to Mike, “May I inquire what it’s about, officer?”
“Detective,” Mike said, “not officer. And it’s about police business which isn’t any of your business. Go tell Chambers we’re here and hustle up.”
The man ushered us into the foyer, excused himself, and walked away into the interior of the house with his shoulders oddly hunched.
“It seems you’ve hurt his feelings,” I said.
“I do that sometimes,” Mike said.
Mike’s all-business demeanor took me back to when we’d first met. Mike had interviewed me as a murder suspect during my first case in Hawai’i. As I thought about it, this was the first time I’d seen him acting in his official capacity since then, and Mike cut quite the impressive and imposing figure as a policeman.
We had been waiting in the foyer several minutes when the Asian man returned. He beckoned us to follow. His white suit was spotless.
Chambers was at a desk in what appeared his study. The large room contained heaps of ancient artifacts and relics. Smugly, I noted there were many ancient weapons from swords and knives to antique firearms on display about the room. My confidence in the theory Chambers had murdered Lee Tran ticked up a few more notches.
Chambers wore a colorful Aloha shirt. I hoped he was wearing trousers too, but couldn’t confirm it since the desk concealed his lower body from view. He had been on the phone but hung up when we walked in. Chambers gave me a hard stare, but I didn’t detect recognition in it. He’d only seen me the one time at Brandi’s shop. He turned his steely gaze on Mike.
“I have little time available,” Chambers said. “Please make this as brief as possible.”
“I’m investigating a murder and possible abduction,” Mike said. “Does the name Lee Tran mean anything to you?”
“It does not,” Chambers said. “Anything else?”
“Chloe and Ken Lawrence are possible witnesses in the murder, and I want to question them,” Mike said. “Are they here?”
“I’m sorry Detective—Young isn’t it? I’m familiar with neither of those names. To save us time, there is no one inside this house but my houseman Zhang Yong and me.”
“Mind if we have a look around to verify that?” Mike said.
“Do you have a search warrant?”
“Well, well,” Mike said. “So much for cooperating with the police.”
The phone rang. Chambers picked it up and answered. He listened for a moment then held the phone out.
“Detective, it’s for you,” he said. Chambers’ self-satisfied smile said it was now he who was feeling a bit smug.
Mike took the phone and listened. His face didn’t change expression. He said nothing for several moments. Then he said, “Right,” and handed the phone back to Chambers who hung it up.
“Satisfied, Detective Young?”
“Come on,” Mike said to me. “We’re leaving now.”
I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Just like that?”
Mike nodded to me and then looked back at Chambers.
“You’ve got connections on the island,” Mike said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s over.”
Chambers, his elbows resting on the desktop, smiled arrogantly over his tented fingertips. “Zhang Yong,” he said. “Show these people out of my house.”
The large Asian guy stepped forward and seized Mike by the arm.
“Out you go,” the man said.
I was gobsmacked he’d put his hands on Mike, a police detective.
Almost nonchalantly, Mike punched the Asian man in the throat. Almost offhanded
ly, he pivoted and took the stunned man’s right wrist in his left hand and twisted it up behind his back. Seemingly effortlessly, after grabbing the man by the collar with his right hand and leaning forward, Mike flung the man face first into the wall beside the desk. After hitting the wall head first, the man slid down it to the floor where he lay still. I was more gobsmacked. Mike tugged downward at the hem of his suit jacket and straightened his tie.
“We can find the way out,” Mike said to Chambers. “See you soon.”
I gave Chambers a friendly smile and followed Mike out.
Back in the car, I said, “What the fuck just happened? Who was on the phone?”
“My captain,” Mike said. “Chambers called the governor. The governor called the chief of police. The chief called my captain. My captain called me. He told me to lay off Chambers unless I had a warrant or some airtight probable cause.”
“Ah, the old poop rolling downhill thing,” I said.
“Exactly,” Mike said. “Chambers is connected. We will have to go at this a different way.”
“You think he was holding Chloe and Ken in there?”
“No, I think Chambers is smarter than that, but I got the sense he is up to his neck in all this.”
“What now?”
“Guess we’ll focus on the Justin Wood character for the time being.”
Mike’s mobile rang as we drove away from the Chamber’s house. He took it out and answered. He listened for a few moments. Then he said, “Okay, thanks,” and hung up.
“Justin Wood isn’t at his apartment, and so far no one has found his car,” Mike said.
“Still early,” I said.
“Yeah.”
We didn’t speak again until we arrived back at the Lawrence house. I opened the door to get out.
“I’ll call you if I hear anything,” Mike said. “You be sure to do the same.”
“Ahkay, I will,” I said. “And, thanks for taking me.”
“No problem,” Mike said. “Take care.”
I closed the car door and leaned in the open window. “You too, Mike. See you.”