Fire burned in the path of the brandy and miraculously began to unknot her stomach. She set the glass on the drain board a little harder than she intended, and glared at Dev. “I’m calling Morgan, right now. He owes me an explanation.”
Nodding, Dev whispered, “I understand.” He took a hand out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I stick around after you’ve called him?”
Kulani wanted to scream, No! To her surprise, she heard herself say, “I don’t care what you do, Dev or Jack or whoever the hell you are.” She moved past him and left him standing in the kitchen. As she walked down the shining teak hall, Kulani felt like sobbing, but she pressed her fist against her mouth. She couldn’t cry. At least, not yet. She had to hold herself together long enough to talk to Morgan.
Sitting on her queen-size bed, with its black silk coverlet decorated with bird-of-paradise in oranges, purples and greens, she shakily picked up her phone. Kulani knew Morgan’s home number by heart. When she heard his growling voice at the other end, her heart sank with real grief.
“Morgan, this is Kulani. I’m sorry to be calling you so late, but we have to talk.”
“Sure. How are you? Have you met up with Dev Hunter yet?”
She closed her eyes. Well, at least Dev was his real name. “Yes—yes, I have.” Kulani leaned forward, pressing her hand against her eyes. Her voice became wobbly. “Morgan, how could you? Dev said Stephen was murdered. That his fall wasn’t an accident. Is it true? Oh God, if it is, why didn’t you tell me this before?”
There was silence at the other end of the phone.
Kulani began to sob. Hot, unwilling tears fell from her eyes and ran down her taut cheeks. “Morgan? You owe me an explanation. Why didn’t you tell me the truth when Stephen died? Why did I have to learn it secondhand like this?”
“I’m sorry, Kulani. On a hunch, I ordered an autopsy performed on Stephen without your knowing about it. I suspected foul play and unfortunately, my gut hunch proved out. When they found that fast-acting poison, we suspected a bioterrorist lab. It immediately became top secret and I couldn’t tell you a thing. God knows, I wanted to, but my hands were tied. And I’m deeply sorry Dev Hunter had to take that step and let you know. I was planning, after this mission was over, to fly over to see you, sit down with you and tell you everything. Damn, I didn’t mean to make you cry. You’re like a daughter to me…you must know that.”
“I do,” Kulani whispered brokenly, “and that’s what makes this even more painful, Morgan.”
His voice grew deeper and filled with remorse. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I wanted to tell you myself and I was planning on doing that.”
“I’d rather have known!” Kulani cried. “Damn the top secret stuff!” Sniffing, she reached for a tissue and blew her nose.
There was another long silence on the phone. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty,” he said heavily. “I made a command decision. Maybe it was the wrong one. And I’m the one to blame for that. Not Dev Hunter. He was just the messenger. In fact, I told him not to tell you unless really necessary because of the danger of this top event mission. I didn’t want you going off half-cocked down that cliff.” Apology was in his voice. “I’m truly sorry. Damn. Is there anything I can do to help you over this?”
Wiping her eyes, Kulani felt all the anger in her dissipate like a balloon losing air. “No.” All she wanted now was to be held. Just held. Dev Hunter’s face loomed before her tightly shut eyes. Why would she want him to hold her? He’d lied to her. He’d set her up.
“That’s why I wanted you to go on this mission. I knew Dev would probably have had to give you all the details about Stephen’s murder. I wanted someone I trusted implicitly to tell you, if I couldn’t tell you myself. Dev is reliable and he’s the only merc for this job. You were the other….”
Shaking her head, Kulani murmured, “Morgan, you’re putting me into such a horrible position. No matter what I do, it’s terrible.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dev said he’s going on this mission solo. Hell, he can’t descend down into that valley alone. He doesn’t know the terrain. He almost fell to his death today when he was out there scouting along the edge of the ridge. And to top it off, we’ve got a tropical storm bearing down on us. The forecasters are saying it will be over by the time of the climb, but that’s no guarantee. If this storm hangs around, Dev will be in big trouble.” Kulani opened her hand, helplessness in her voice. “And if I don’t go with him, he’ll die. And if the professor has his lab down there, they are going to be looking for climbers.” In her heart, Kulani knew without a doubt Dev needed her. But he was trying to pretend he needed no one. Was her decision to let him go alone just as foolhardy as his risky desire to do so?
“Damn his stiff-necked pride,” Morgan muttered, anger in his voice. “He was ordered to take you along. I never authorized him to take on this mission alone. That’s sheer suicide. I was worried his pride would get in the way of his better judgment.”
“Pride is right,” Kulani said. “He’s got this attitude, this belief he doesn’t need anyone at any time.”
Sighing heavily, Morgan rasped, “Maybe with two trained mercs making the climb the outcome would be different, Kulani. You know this climb better than anyone—that’s a big advantage. And the inclement weather will cover any noise you’re making placing pitons as you descend that cliff.”
“Yes, that’s true,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with trembling fingers. “But the only way to make this climb is at night. That is so dangerous, Morgan. Dev doesn’t know the terrain. He doesn’t know the moods of the Na Pali Coast, and with this tropical storm bearing down on us, he’s really going to need a partner.”
“I know that,” he answered heavily. “Now can you understand why I chose you?”
Bitterly, she nodded and sniffed. Grabbing another tissue, Kulani said, “It’s very clear to me.”
“And Dev is going in alone because you won’t go. Is that right?”
“Dev made it clear he was doing this alone, but there’s no way this is a one-person job.” It hurt to admit that because it made her feel guilty, Kulani thought, watching the light shining from the hall into her darkened bedroom. That was how she felt—trapped in a hellish darkness. And yet, as she sat there on the edge of her bed, moonlight flooding in the floor-to-ceiling windows through the gauzy curtain that wafted gently in a breeze, she craved Dev’s closeness.
Her grieving heart wanted Dev. Wanted his strong arms around her to hold her, to rock her as if she were the hurt child she felt like presently. Had he left? Was he waiting for her? She hoped he was still there…or at least a part of her did. “And I’m still angry over Dev keeping his cover until tonight. I don’t like lies, Morgan.”
“Dev probably felt it was time to tell you who he was. That’s up to him. So, he said he’s still going alone?”
Kulani nodded and whispered, “Yes.”
“He’ll die, then.”
Her heart squeezed violently with pain. With a surprising sense of loss. Vividly, Kulani recalled Dev’s kiss. How warm and melting it had been! Oh, an hour hadn’t gone by in her day when she hadn’t thought of that reckless kiss of abandon he’d shared with her. Her heart warred with her head.
“I don’t want him to die, Morgan.”
“Then,” he warned sadly, “you’re the only person that can stop that from happening. I know it puts your life in danger, too. You can see why I wanted two of you, don’t you?”
She heard the hope in his voice. “Yes…”
“Listen, this has been a rough night for you. Go take care of yourself. Get a good hot bath and just go to bed. Talk to Dev tomorrow when you’re in a better place. He has orders to go down that cliff either tomorrow or the next day. We’re out of time, Kulani. We know the professor is making genetically engineered anthrax. We’ve got to verify it and stop the production. I’m not going to try and trap you into going with Dev. I respect your decision, whatever it may be
.”
“Okay…” Kulani said, her voice washed out, her spirit beaten. “You’re right—I need to sleep on this in order to make a decision. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Kulani. Stay in touch, all right? I’m really sorry….”
As she gently placed the phone back into its cradle, Kulani could still hear the raw regret in Morgan’s voice. She couldn’t fault him on his decision. He’d made the best one he could, even though she’d rather have known the truth at the time of Stephen’s death. Sitting there in the quiet of her bedroom, her mind and heart in tumult, Kulani lifted her chin. Dev? Was he still out there in the living room? She didn’t want to need him, but she did.
Pushing herself to her feet, she moved down the hall. The living room had one corner lamp glowing. As she looked around, she saw that Dev was gone. Her heart fell. Hard. Well, she’d given him a choice, hadn’t she? Moving weakly out to the kitchen, she was going to make herself a pot of tea when she saw a hand-scrawled note on the bamboo-and-glass table, set up against a small yellow vase that held several pink-and-white cymbidium orchids.
Frowning, Kulani moved to the table and picked up the note. Her heart squeezed as she read it:
Kulani…I don’t know how you can even begin to forgive me. I’m sorry. If I can make it up to you, please call me at the Princeton. I’m in suite 105. Right now, I wish I could hold you because you need it.
Dev
“Damn you, Dev Hunter….” Her words echoed hollowly in the pale pink kitchen. Darkly, Kulani stared out the windows over the sink. It was black outside except for the moonlight touching the swaying palms that danced to the ever-present trade winds. Dev was like sunlight to her. She hadn’t laughed so much, or felt so alive in the past year and a half as she had over the past two days. And she knew it was because of Dev.
Turning, she went through the motions of making herself some jasmine tea. Should she go on the mission? If she didn’t, she was sure Dev Hunter would die, one way or another. And yet the terror of just having to look down that black lava wall falling two thousand feet to the valley below instantly made her stomach knot. She’d have to relive Stephen’s murder. Murder, not an accident…That shook her to her soul in a way nothing else ever could.
She picked up the pale rose china teapot from the cupboard and set it on the drain board. Setting the teakettle on the stove, she turned on the gas. The flame, blue and yellow, licked to life beneath the copper container. Leaning against the counter, Kulani covered her face with her hands.
Stephen had been cold-bloodedly murdered. My God. He’d been shot with a dart filled with swift-acting poison. Allowing her hands to fall to her sides, Kulani watched the teakettle almost in a stupor. So, he hadn’t slipped to his death. After the accident, Kulani had gone over every inch of their climbing gear and the placement of the pitons, investigating whether one of the pitons had failed them, or if one of the ropes had. She’d ruthlessly searched the harnesses inch by inch for any indication of wear. She’d found one frayed rope—the one that supposedly led to Stephen’s plunge to his death. It was very possible that another bullet or dart had struck his line and frayed it; no one would have known what had caused it.
Thinking through it all, Kulani remembered that at the time Stephen was killed, a thunderstorm had suddenly built across the valley, as thunderstorms often did on the Na Pali Coast. The wind had howled and lightning had crackled all around them, sending thunder rolling relentlessly along the walls of the valley. They wouldn’t have heard bullets or darts being fired from below. As it was, they’d been in a very dangerous place on the cliff, with little brush to hold on to or utilize. The wind had been gusting sixty miles an hour and buffeting them cruelly. The lava was slippery from the rain. No, neither of them would have heard a rifle being fired.
Rubbing her wrinkled brow, Kulani turned her thoughts to the present. If that lab was down there—and they didn’t know that for sure—Black Dawn would more than likely see them climbing down the cliff. Morgan was probably right about the climb being safer for two mercs who knew the score. Partners who knew what they were descending into would have certain advantages on their side—maybe even the element of surprise. The approach of that tropical storm bothered her greatly. No mountain climber in his right mind would descend into that valley during those perilous conditions. And there was no telling what the whimsical weather would do; on Kauai conditions could change at the snap of a person’s fingers. It would be a deadly unknown in this climb.
Again Kulani closed her eyes, and instantly, Dev’s strong, shadowed face appeared. She felt her heart long for him as she pictured his dark green eyes, so warm and filled with humor. He made her laugh. He was so confident in himself as a man. She’d never met anyone quite like him. If he only weren’t so damned proud. Opening her eyes, she whispered, “Damn you, Dev Hunter. You deserve to get your comeuppance, but I can’t let you climb alone.”
Turning, Kulani took the boiling water off the stove and poured it into the awaiting teapot. She needed a good night’s sleep on this before she made any decisions. Fear warred with her worry and anger. Anxiety riffled through her. Kulani was afraid of climbing, but knowing that Stephen had died by the hands of men filled her with a desire for revenge. Tomorrow morning, when she got up, she’d know what to do. She hoped.
Something nagged at her. Without thinking about it, she picked up the wall phone and dialed the number of her climbing mentor and friend, Cappy Martinez.
“Cappy? This is Kulani.”
“How are you, my dear?”
She felt her fears dissolving instantly at the sound of his rough voice. Cappy was seventy-two years old and a world-class mountain climber of international fame. He had taught her how to climb when she was only nine years old, on the walls of the infamous Kalalau Valley. “I’m not doing real well, Cappy. That’s why I called. I need your help—your advice.”
“You’re going to climb again, aren’t you, child?”
Choking back a sob, she answered, “Y-yes. I don’t want to, but I have to.” Kulani pressed the heel of her hand against her brow. A headache was lapping at her temples. “Can you come over now? I know it’s short notice…and I don’t want to say anything on the phone.”
“Ah, stealth stuff.” Cappy chuckled. “Of course, child. I’ll be right over. Hang on….”
Kulani hung up the phone. She felt relief flushing through her knotted stomach, though she was far from at peace. Moving dully out to the living room, she looked around.
“What have I done?” she muttered as she clasped her hands and sat down tensely to wait. Thank God for Cappy. Her old, wise friend had replaced her parents in many respects after they had died so suddenly. She looked to the old man, who was half-Portuguese and half-Hawaiian, as she would a beloved grandfather. He himself was a kahuna, and had known and revered her mother. Since that time, and especially since Stephen’s death, he’d become irreplaceable to her. Kulani wrung her sweaty hands. Oh, if only Cappy were here. She desperately needed him. If she could talk out her fears, they wouldn’t hold her in such a death grip.
Right now, her heart was centered on Dev. On losing him. She had no right to feel that way, but she didn’t try to suppress the feelings. Dev made her feel good. He made her feel like living once again—something she hadn’t felt since Stephen plummeted to his death. And now Dev was going to try the impossible, under the same dangerous circumstances as Stephen. Only this time, Kulani bitterly reminded herself, they knew of the danger below.
“Hurry, Cappy, please hurry….” she whispered into the silent night.
“Come here, child,” Cappy said when he arrived a little while later. He held out long arms that had been tanned a dark brown by the equatorial sun.
With a sob, Kulani stepped into them. Cappy was lean and built like steel cable. He wasn’t much taller than she, and as his arms slid around her waist, she laid her head on his narrow shoulder. “Oh, Cappy…”
“Hush, hush, child.” He chuckled softly and laid long, large-
knuckled fingers across the crown of her head. “It’s all right, my girl. That’s it, just breathe through it. You’ll be fine in a few moments….”
Miraculously, in a few minutes Kulani did feel better. Lifting her head, she smiled weakly up into Cappy’s shining brown eyes. His face was horselike, deeply wrinkled and tobacco-brown from all the time he’d spent under the sun while mountain climbing in harsh elements all over the world. He was dressed in a loose gray T-shirt and baggy dark blue jeans and wore open-toed sandals on his callused feet, though he usually went barefoot.
Cappy reminded her of a venerable old lion with a silver mane. He took great pride in his thick, curled locks, now gathered up in a ponytail at the back of his head. His nose was long and narrow. His thin mouth was set in a gentle smile. When she saw the curiosity in his warm brown eyes, Kulani moved aside to let him into the bungalow.
“Thanks for coming over on such short notice,” she said. Cappy lived a mile down the road from her. Often he’d come over to tend her herb garden and do the landscaping around the house. Kulani paid him monthly for his help. He was a military veteran from the Korean War and had never held a job long enough to gather a pension. So he did odd jobs for people to make enough to buy climbing rope, a new set of boots, pitons or whatever he needed to scale the next mountain that grabbed his passionate heart and soul. Cappy lived by his heart only, as all good kahunas learned to do. Life was to be lived, to be felt fully—the pain as well as the joy—grabbed and fully embraced without flinching.
Stepping into the kitchen, Cappy reached for the coffeemaker. He always made himself at home when he was at her house. “Sit down,” he told her as he worked at the drain board. “And tell me what’s going on.”
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