by Toby Neal
Lei submitted a statement, and was subjected to a lecture and an interview about everything she had seen and done. She and Keiki were thoroughly chastened when they finally walked back to Aunty’s house.
Lei took a long, hot shower. She then wiped Keiki down with disinfectant pet wipes to cool her and get the sweat off her fur. Lei let Keiki up on her bed for the first time—needing the closeness of the dog beside her, needing to have her hand on Keiki’s back, feeling the Rottweiler’s heartbeat, knowing that she was safe and alive.
Lei had needlessly endangered herself and her beloved animal. Tomorrow night would be very different.
Chapter Seventeen
Lei dragged herself out into the kitchen the next morning, relieved to see that Aunty was up and had made a big pot of coffee. “Did you hear about all the excitement last night, Aunty?”
Aunty yawned. “No, I was at the restaurant until ten p.m., so by the time I got home, you and Keiki were in bed. What happened?”
Lei poured herself a cup of coffee, pondering how much to share. “Keiki and I caught the robbers in the act. We called the police on them, and they almost got busted. At least we prevented another break-in at a house three down from us.”
“What!” Aunty almost dropped her cup into the sink. “I hope you two are okay?”
“Well, as I told you, we’re only supposed to call the police,” Lei hedged. She felt that blush that always gave her away burning her cheeks and ears, so she avoided looking at Aunty. “They were armed with at least one gun. I’m sure you would have woken up at the sound of the gunshot if you were home, because they shot at us.”
Aunty hurried to hug Lei, squeezing her close. “Oh honey!”
Lei couldn’t lie to her aunt. “Aunty, it was my fault. I wasn’t supposed to, but I wanted to be the one to bust those men. So, I caught them in my flashlight beam and told them to stop what they were doing. It almost seemed like it was working, until . . . one of the guys fired at us.”
Aunty swayed on her feet, going pale. Lei held her up. “Aunty! Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I did such a stupid thing. I promise I won’t take chances like that tonight when we’re on patrol!”
“You can’t go! I won’t let you!”
“But Aunty, I’m going to become a police officer. This is all practice for that, and . . . while I’m telling you things—I got the acceptance letter from the Hawaii Police Academy. I start in two weeks.”
Rosario reached for one of the kitchen chairs and fell into it like a bag of laundry. “I need some more coffee.”
Lei hurried over and filled Aunty’s cup with fresh brew, then came and sat down next to her. Keiki, sensing that the women were upset, padded over to lean against Aunty Rosario’s legs, laying her head in Rosario’s lap and looking up with soulful eyes. Aunty’s hand stroked the Rottweiler’s broad forehead, her fingers playing with Keiki’s silky ears. “What am I going to do without the two of you?”
“I’ve been thinking, Aunty. I don’t feel good about taking Keiki away while we still have this threat. So I’ll fly over to Hawaii by myself so that I can figure things out, like a place to live. Keiki has to go through a quarantine process for our move anyway, so she can stay here with you for a while. I will find myself an apartment and get started with the training, and when we know that these robbers have been captured, that’s when Keiki can come over and join me.”
Aunty glanced at Lei. Her brown eyes, ones that Lei saw in the mirror every day on her own face, were deeply sad. “I don’t want you to go, Lei-girl. Are you sure you can’t just join the California police department?”
Lei set her hand over Aunty’s, resting on top of Keiki’s head. “I need to go to Hilo, where it all began. I have to go, Aunty, to figure out . . . myself, things about my past. I have a feeling that will help me move forward in life.”
Aunty heaved a gusty sigh. “I understand, but I don’t have to like it.” She reached over and grabbed a tissue from a nearby box on the table, and blew her nose.
Lei found herself blowing her nose too. “I wish you would come with me.”
Aunty rolled her eyes. “After all I’ve been through building this restaurant and establishing myself here in San Rafael? No. This is my home now, though a part of my heart will always live in the paniolo country of Waimea.”
Lei leaned over to kiss Aunty’s forehead. “At least you’ll have Keiki to keep you company and protect you while I’m gone.”
“For a while, at least.” Aunty blew her nose again. “Good thing I have lots of friends at the restaurant.”
Chapter Eighteen
Two weeks later . . .
Lei staggered comically under the towering stack of leis draped around her neck as she looped an arm around her aunt.
“Haven’t been lei’d this much since I graduated high school,” she laughed, pushing the mountain of flower lei, paper lei, yarn lei, origami lei, crochet lei, candy lei and feather boas down enough to grin over the pile as she posed for a picture beside Aunty Rosario.
Rosario, wearing her trademark plumeria print apron and a chef’s hat in matching fabric, wiped tears off her cheeks without shame. “So proud of my girl!”
“You’d think I graduated from the Hawaii Police Academy, but I’m just leaving for it,” Lei said, with an expansive gesture. “Thanks so much for coming and making this night so special.”
The packed restaurant, closed for business except to friends and family for Lei’s going-away party, erupted in cheers and congratulations. Lei’s aunty’s extensive ‘ohana of friends and mainland relatives loved nothing more than an excuse to gather for food and fellowship.
A pule (prayer) by Aunty opened the buffet, and soon the crowded room sorted itself into a boisterous line, with Lei and Aunty at the head.
“I want to see your plate filled with your favorite beef and pineapple stew,” Momi, Aunty’s restaurant partner, said. She handed Lei one of the deep china bowls. “And lots of rice to soak it up. Made ‘em special for you, girl.”
“Thank you, Aunty Momi,” Lei leaned forward to kiss the Hawaiian woman’s cheek. “Your stew is my favorite.”
“And you always say my stew is your favorite!” Rosario protested, giving Lei a little shove.
“I get to have two favorites, don’t I?” Lei laughed. “I’m going to miss you both, and this place, so much.”
“Don’t think about it until you have to,” Momi advised. “And never forget, we’re always here whenever you want to come home.”
Later, seated beside Aunty at one of the crowded tables listening to one of her distant cousins from Las Vegas play slack-key guitar, Lei glanced at the clock over the door.
Eight p.m. Still early.
Keiki was home, locked inside the house, but this time of night they were usually patrolling the neighborhood. The robbers had gone quiet in the last two weeks, with no new incidents since they’d almost been captured by the police—but Lei was worried about leaving the dog home alone without her.
A weird sense of urgency drove her to her feet. “Aunty, I’m going to excuse myself and jog home super quick. Just to check on Keiki,” she whispered in Rosario’s ear. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“All right.” Rosario patted Lei’s shoulder absently, her attention on the talented musician weaving a spell from the restaurant’s little stage as he launched into a rendition of “Going to a Hukilau.” Another cousin got up, encouraged by the family, to dance hula to the song.
Feeling guilty for leaving even for a few minutes, Lei slipped into the kitchen, unloaded the pile of leis onto the polished metal counter, grabbed her jacket, and exited out the back door.
Lei approached the little brown bungalow with its attached garage. Aunty had driven them to the restaurant tonight and had closed the garage door behind them. The overhead security light was on, as usual. Lei stepped up onto the little porch and inserted her key into the metal screen security door they’d installed over the regular front door once the break-ins had started—and that’s
when she heard Keiki inside, snarling and growling.
Lei froze, her eyes widening, her key inserted.
Something was very wrong.
Chapter Nineteen
Lei paused, one hand against the metal grill of the door, the other clenched around the key inserted into the lock. Inside the house, Keiki was still snarling and growling . . . but not barking.
Was Keiki afraid? Was there another animal inside, like a raccoon?
Lei turned the key, shouting, “Keiki!”
At the sound of her voice, the dog burst into loud, rapid barking. Lei recognized the same bark Keiki had used when confronting the robbers: someone was in the house!
Lei fumbled her flip phone out of her pocket, thankful that she had slipped it in there when she left the restaurant. Her fingers seemed unable to find the buttons as she fumbled to call the police. She brought the phone to her ear as she opened the grilled security door, then inserted her key into the lock on the wooden front door.
“Nine-one-one Emergency.”
“There’s someone inside our house! My dog is confronting them. Please hurry!” Lei gave the address.
“Do not enter the house,” the operator directed. “Stay outside, if you suspect there is an intruder and your dog has engaged with them.”
“But the robbers in our neighborhood have been armed!” Lei cried. “I don’t want them to hurt my dog.”
“A patrol is on their way to your location,” the operator said. “Stay outside!”
Lei flipped her phone shut and slid it into her pocket.
She would do no such thing; she had to make sure that Keiki was safe.
Her hands were sweaty on the doorknob and Keiki’s ferocious sounds made Lei even more nervous. She fumbled the door open. Peeking around it into the dimly lit front room, she called out, “Keiki?”
The Rottweiler renewed her barking, clearly trying to communicate something to Lei. The sounds were coming from the back of the bungalow. Had the robbers trapped Keiki in one of the bedrooms? Could they, even now, be roaming around inside the house?
Lei’s heart thundered and she patted her pockets, frustrated that she had left her pepper spray and her weapon stashed safely in the glove box of the car. She was unarmed.
Lei scanned around the front room, spotting a big brass poker next to the rarely used fireplace. She darted over and picked it up, swinging the metal rod to her shoulder, baseball style.
Her athletic shoes squeaked on the linoleum of the kitchen as she walked on tiptoe into the hallway on the other side.
Keiki was definitely in one of the bedrooms or the bathroom, judging by her loud barking. The bedrooms off the hall were closed, as usual, but Aunty’s room door was ajar, and the barking seemed to be coming from inside. Aunty had her own bathroom attached to the back of the room; could Keiki be trapped there?
Lei crept toward Aunty’s bedroom. The dog’s voice sounded too loud to be muffled by a door. She scanned everywhere as she crept down the hall but saw no sign of movement.
Perhaps the robbers had trapped Keiki inside, and left.
Lei’s heart pounding was almost as loud as the sound of the Rottweiler barking as she tiptoed forward, gently pushing Aunty’s bedroom door wide.
On the other side of Aunty’s bed, dressed in an antique Hawaiian pineapple quilt, Keiki faced the closed bathroom door.
That bathroom had a tricky lock that stuck when engaged; evidently, the robbers had gone inside to hide from Keiki, and now they were trapped!
The Rottweiler spun around to catch Lei’s eye, then turned back to face the door, thrusting her nose against the handle, then rearing up to plant heavy paws on the door. She barked so hard that foam and spittle flew from her fangs. Lei had seldom seen anything so terrifying.
She tried to remember the signal that Josh had shown her to call Keiki to heel.
Lei snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground beside her, making sure Keiki saw the gesture. The dog backed away from the door, still facing it, still barking, but came to stand at Lei’s side.
Just then, a gunshot cut across the sound of Keiki’s barking and a hole appeared in the door just above the handle. Five more rapid shots followed that, and then, to Lei’s horror, a hand punched through the weakened wood, reached around, then turned the handle.
Lei grabbed Keiki’s collar. She couldn’t let the dog charge and try to capture the man attempting to escape the bathroom, afraid she’d be shot for doing so.
She dragged Keiki back, out through Aunty’s doorway, slamming the bedroom door shut. Keiki, agitated, began to bark again, trotting back and forth in front of the door as Lei threw her weight behind Aunty’s fancy china hutch. She shoved the heavy piece of furniture across the bedroom door, trapping the intruder inside. Even if the robber tried to shoot his way out, he wouldn’t be able to with that heavy hutch in the way.
But Aunty had a reasonably large window over the bed. Once the man realized the door was blocked, he would try to exit that way. Maybe she and Keiki could hold him in the bedroom until the police arrived.
Lei ran to the front door, signaling for Keiki to heel; they hurried out the front door onto the porch. Sure enough, two black-clad men were clambering out of Aunty’s window.
Keiki was off her leash, and the dog didn’t hesitate, roaring away from Lei across the lawn. Keiki launched herself at the first of the robbers, who had reached the ground. Her aggressive assault knocked the man down; he gave a muffled cry as he hit the ground. Keiki dug her teeth into the back of his jacket, yanking and growling.
Lei was still holding the heavy poker on the porch as the second man, hanging halfway out the window by one leg, waved his pistol, trying to aim at Keiki without hitting his partner. A powerful rush of protectiveness for her dog propelled Lei forward; she ran at full speed and swung the poker as hard as she could, hitting the robber on the thigh.
The robber screamed, let go of the edge of the window, and fell the rest of the way to the ground. Lei jumped on his back and knelt there, pressing the poker, held in both hands, against the back of his neck. The pressure pushed the man’s face into the grass of the yard. “Drop your weapon!” she screamed.
He let go of the gun, dropping it to the grass.
“Put your hands on the back of your head!”
The robber obeyed.
Keiki was doing a fine job on her intruder, too, standing on his back and tugging at the back of his jacket, growling as he whimpered and begged for mercy.
The headlights of two police cruisers swiveled onto their street and caught the whole scene in blinding, bright lights. Lei reached over to grab Keiki’s collar. “We got them, girl.”
Chapter Twenty
Aunty waved the San Rafael Gazette in front of Lei the next morning. “It sure was handy having one of the reporters at your going-away party!” She exclaimed. “Front-page news that my niece and her dog captured the robbers. What a great kickoff to your career in law enforcement!”
Lei smiled and took the paper from her aunt. She sipped from a mug of coffee, taking in the photo of herself, curls wild, holding Keiki’s collar as the dog snarled in the direction of two black-clad men being led away in handcuffs. “I can’t take any credit. Keiki did the whole thing herself.”
“Not! That second man might have shot her if you hadn’t whacked him on the leg like you did with the fire iron.” Aunty glanced over at the poker, back in its holder beside the fireplace. She gave a theatrical shiver. “They say you almost broke his leg. You were very good at swinging a bat back in school.”
“Would have been better to have my weapon,” Lei grumbled, shaking out the paper and scanning the article. “But the stupid thing was locked in your car.”
“You did fine without that gun. I’m starting a scrapbook of all of your cases. This one will go right at the beginning.” Aunty opened a second copy of the paper and retrieved a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. “I even have a new scrapbook to get started.”
“Not all
of my cases,” Lei said absently, still reading.
“What do you mean?” Aunty sat back down with the newspaper and scissors.
Lei bit her tongue, remembering that the events in Mexico must never be disclosed. “Never mind. I’m just sorry I couldn’t make it back to the party, and you had to find out about everything when it was all over, thinking I had bailed on everyone.”
“I was just worried about you. I knew it had to have been something important to keep you from our ‘ohana,” Aunty said, reaching down to pat Keiki’s head. “Now, you’d better hurry up so we can get you to the airport on time.”
Lei pressed her forehead against the cool plexiglass of the airplane window. Just one of her many leis from the night before, a tuberose one, released its sweet, tropical scent as her shoulder crushed it against her neck.
Lei peered down as the jet circled, lining up with the Hilo, Hawaii runway. She took in the horseshoe shape of Hilo Bay, lined with hotels, banyan trees, and the quaint old town area. Palm trees grew larger and larger as the plane descended.
Lei’s heart sped up with excitement: this was the beginning of a whole new chapter of her life, and she wanted to see everything.
The airplane touched down, bouncing lightly in a breeze off the bay, and taxiing to a stop near the small terminal. Soon Lei was making her way down the aisle, the backpack she carried instead of a purse on her back as she towed a small carry-on bag. Everything she had packed to begin her new life was in one additional suitcase she would pick up at baggage claim—she had always been a minimalist.
The plane had parked away from the terminal building, and a set of wheeled stairs was rolled up against the side of the jet.
Lei took a deep breath of the air of her birthplace as she exited, enjoying the soft, humid touch of the tropical breeze on her cheeks, even if it smelled a bit of hot asphalt and fuel. She descended the stairs, walking briskly across the tarmac to the building, then heading to baggage claim to pick up her bag. A short time later, towing her suitcase and carry-on, Lei headed for the exit—but was surprised to see an older local woman in a flowered muumuu, holding a hand-lettered cardboard sign that read ‘Texeira.’