by Toby Neal
“We’ll get these personal effects after we’ve verified that this is hers,” she told Pono. She climbed back on board the Coast Guard boat, Pono and Thomas close behind, surprised at the exhaustion pulling at her muscles. “Mind if I take a little nap on the way back?” she asked Thomas.
“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to a padded storage seat against the wheelhouse. “Surprised you made it this long.”
Lei felt herself soften and relax at the warm kindness in Thomas’s words. He found a padded life jacket and set it on the bench for her as a pillow.
I’m so empty inside, anyone being nice to me feels like more than it should.
“Thanks,” Lei said, and Thomas moved off to speak to Rice. She lay down on her side, her folded hands pillowed under her cheek. Her eyes fell shut on the sun lowering toward the horizon, gilding the small nearby island of Kahoolawe with gold, as the Zodiac sped back across the ocean toward Ma’alaea Harbor.
It was dark by the time Lei pulled up to the automatic gate of her home in Haiku. They’d turned the body over to the medical examiner, Dr. Gregory, at the dock. She’d dropped off the retrieved GoPro with Jessup Murioka, their tech support staff member. They’d checked in with Captain Omura, their commanding officer, and started the case’s files. Now she and Pono had taken a break to go home, eat, and change before going back into the station to work on confirming the victim’s identity.
The first twenty-four hours on a murder case were crucial. She and Pono had to keep the momentum going as long as they could.
Lei hit the gate’s remote. A ten-foot cedar section of wall retracted with a rumble. She pulled her silver Tacoma into the open garage attached to the side of their house, a single-level cement-block ranch finished tastefully with stucco and roofed in terra-cotta for a slightly Mediterranean look.
Aesthetics had been the last thing on their minds, though, when choosing the materials for the house. Their priority had been a building that was both fireproof and secure, and as it always did, arriving at the house brought a sense of safety and peace to Lei as she opened the door of her truck to the dogs’ ecstatic greetings.
Keiki, her old Rottweiler, gray around the muzzle and creaky in the knees but still excited to see her, wagged her cropped hind end. Her old girl was nudged aside by younger, more energetic Conan, the male Rottie they’d adopted five years ago.
“I know. You guys thought I went off-island. Nah, just another homicide case.” She took a moment to rub the dogs’ big square heads and scratch their chests, then went toward the house, flanked by their strong, glossy bodies.
The dogs made her feel safe and secure, too.
Kiet met her on the porch. “Mama!” The little boy threw his arms around her waist, pressing his face into her midsection. “Where were you?”
Lei dropped her backpack and squatted to embrace him at his level, treasuring the feel of the boy’s slender, sturdy body in her arms. As she often did, she sent a quick, silent thank-you to his birth mother in heaven for the gift of her son to raise.
“Mama had a case. You know I can’t come home at the usual time when I have a case. Sorry, honey. Did Daddy pick you up?” She’d left a message on Stevens’s voice mail not to expect her until later, but today was Stevens’s turn to pick Kiet up from elementary school and take him to his mother Ellen’s house for afternoon babysitting, a daily ritual they treasured as an opportunity to see their son during the workday. Wayne, Lei’s father, who lived with them on the property and had provided childcare in Kiet’s early years, had his own business now, a small breakfast and lunch restaurant at the Haiku Cannery. He was still able to help out some afternoons, but they’d roped Michael’s mother, Ellen, into doing much of the after-school care. Now clean and sober, Ellen worked from home as a paralegal and enjoyed afternoons with her grandson.
Lei tipped Kiet’s chin up to look into his eyes. His mother Anchara’s Thai heritage had mixed beautifully with Stevens’s gene pool, resulting in thick black hair, jade-green eyes, and caramel skin.
“Yeah, Daddy came. But I missed you.” Instead of letting go, Kiet tightened his arms around Lei’s waist, burrowing his head against her side. “Daddy’s packing.”
“What?” Lei felt her stomach drop. “Where’s he going?”
“Daddy said he had to tell you first.”
“Okay. Thanks, little man.” Lei straightened up, keeping a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they went into the house. The living room was modestly furnished with a big coffee table, currently littered with Kiet’s Legos. A flat-screen TV, a lounger, a couch, and two big dog beds, where the Rottweilers immediately went to lie down, completed the decor. Stevens was nowhere to be seen. “Daddy leave any leftovers for me?”
“We had Costco lasagna. It’s in the oven,” Stevens called from their bedroom.
“Thanks. I’m starved,” Lei called back, injecting cheerfulness into her tone, suppressing the apprehension that was already curbing her appetite. Packing wasn’t good, but whatever was happening, Lei couldn’t stay long. She took out the casserole and served herself a piece, putting it on a plate. “Kiet, did you do your homework?”
“With Nana.” The little boy knelt at the coffee table to continue building the Lego construction he’d been working on.
“Do you want to watch a cartoon?” They limited his TV time, so Lei wasn’t surprised when Kiet jumped up with enthusiasm and turned on Cartoon Network. That would give her a chance to talk to Michael in privacy.
The microwave was still ticking as she headed down the hall to their bedroom at the back of the house. A king-sized bed dominated the small room, and Lei paused in the doorway at the sight of her husband rolling a garment into a tight bundle and stowing it in a duffel bag.
Gazing at his bent head with the ruffled dark hair, broad shoulders, and the lamplight falling on his deft, long-fingered hands, she felt the quickening of emotion that seeing him always brought, in spite of everything.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was soft. Maybe this wasn’t the deployment she’d been dreading.
Stevens looked up. His crystal-blue eyes were ringed in shadows, as they so often were these days, and his dark brows were drawn together. His jaw was tight, a resoluteness there that told her what she didn’t want to hear.
“I’ve got orders. Leaving tomorrow morning for the assignment.”
“Where to?” She felt anger blaze up her spine to light up her eyes.
“I’m sorry. It’s classified.”
“That’s frickin’ insulting,” she hissed, modifying her language in case of listening ears. “You haven’t told Kiet. Were you going to leave that to me, like everything else?”
He looked down. Turned away, went to the dresser, took out a pair of socks and rolled them in a tight ball. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Like that will make a difference. You’re still going, no matter what I say.” Her throat closed. She wanted to cry, but a wave of anger energized her. He wasn’t the only one who battled demons. He didn’t have the corner on PTSD, or grief, for that matter—and yet he was going away, indulging himself, while she stayed here, being a mother, doing her job.
“I have to go, Lei. I’m sorry I can’t make you understand why.” He tucked the socks into the rest of the clothing. “I’ll be back in six months.”
“Six months.” She echoed it. “Six months you’re going to leave me here to carry the load. Six months away from us, so you can drink all you want without hearing shit about it.”
“I knew you were going to go off.” He turned, went to the dresser, took out more socks. “So say what you gotta say. Get it off your chest.”
“I’ve said it all before. This isn’t necessary. You got a problem? We have help available. Dr. Wilson. There are programs…”
“Not for me. Not for this. I’ll beat this in my own way, and whether or not it makes any sense to you, this is the way I need to go. I’m not going to be drinking. I had to sign a contract agreeing to that. I’m g
oing to be working, in a place where I can’t even get my hands on any booze.”
“It’s too extreme. It’s so unnecessary.” Lei could barely speak past the tightness in her chest.
“Part of what I need to get off the sauce is to put myself in a situation where I don’t have the same old ruts to deal with.”
“So now…we’re a rut. Your family is what’s dragging you down.” Lei’s eyes prickled with tears and she tightened her hands into fists.
He brushed past her and shut the door so Kiet wouldn’t hear them fighting. He grabbed her wrist to pull her up against him. His gaze was hot and intense on her face.
“Don’t do this. Don’t start this now. We only have tonight.”
Lei was up against his chest, her wrist in his hand, his big body against hers. It had been months since they’d slept together. She felt the proximity weaken her knees, just as looking into his blazing blue eyes did. He wanted her—it vibrated in the chemistry between them, in the hardness she felt pressed against her waist. And she wanted him, just as much. But it wasn’t enough. Anger stiffened her spine.
She pulled back. “Let go of me.”
He let go, and she stepped back. “You think I’m going to just—let you kiss me and make it better? Send you off with my blessing? Not going to happen.”
Stevens turned away, went back to his duffel. “Then we don’t have anything to say to each other. Because this is happening.”
“When does your plane leave?”
“Ten a.m. tomorrow.”
“So you get to take Kiet to school. And tell him you’ll be gone for six months. Because hell if I’m going to do that for you.” Lei grabbed the door handle and cranked it open. She stomped down the hall and into the kitchen, where her reheated dinner was cooling in the microwave. She took her plate and sat down at the small, round dining room table, eating the tasteless food with quick, hard bites, just trying to get it down.
Stevens joined her, bringing her a Longboard Lager from the fridge. She pushed it back toward him. “I pulled a fresh homicide. Got to get back to the office.”
He sat beside her anyway, leaning into her space. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard.”
“You have no idea.” She stood up, whirled to walk to the sink, dumped the remaining lasagna, and ran the plate under the water. She scooped up her small backpack and, ignoring Stevens, went into the living room to drop a kiss on Kiet’s head.
“See you later, little man. Mama has to go back to work.”
“Bye, Mama.” Kiet’s gaze was still on the cartoon. Stevens came in and sat on the couch beside his son, looping a long arm over his shoulder and pulling the boy close to his side.
Lei shut the door on the tender scene, feeling sick. Sick at heart and sick to her stomach, the lasagna she’d hastily wolfed down both not enough and too much. The Rottweilers pressed against her, one on each side, as she walked back to the truck. She reached for the door of her vehicle, but Keiki, in a rare display of defiance, pressed against it, looking up at Lei with worried, intelligent brown eyes.
“Oh, girl. You don’t want me to go. I don’t want to go either, but I have a case.” She squatted to embrace the dog quickly as she looked back at the house, wishing she could sit with Stevens and Kiet for the few hours Michael had left, wishing he wasn’t going tomorrow, wishing that instead they were going back to the bedroom to make love until dawn.
But she knew she wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t. Because then he’d think this crazy plan was okay with her, and hell if it was.
They’d been through so much together. At first he’d been the strong one, pursuing her past her fears, healing her brokenness. They’d built a life together, just as they’d built this ugly, sturdy home, literally on the ashes of all that enemies had stolen from them.
She knew exactly when the tide had turned, when she’d become the stronger one—the day Anchara, Kiet’s mother, had been brutally murdered and Stevens had been set up to find her in her last moments and be accused of her murder. Stevens had gone on, but in spite of his love for Lei and his son, he’d never been the same. It was one horror too many in a series of horrors. He had flashbacks and nightmares ever since, and it sickened her to see him go down the same alcoholic road as his mother, his eyes wide open about it, knowing better but unable to stop.
Lei nudged the big dog aside with her knee, patting Keiki’s head. “I’ll be back later.” She hopped into the truck, fired it up, and got back on the road to the station. Forward motion. It wasn’t an answer, but it was something.
Chapter Three
Driving down the narrow, two-lane road leading from her house to Hana Highway and back into Kahului, Lei put in her Bluetooth and called her best friend, Marcella Scott, on Oahu. She pictured her beautiful friend as the agent answered on the first ring.
“No, I haven’t popped yet,” Marcella said.
Lei had been calling often for updates on Marcella’s late-stage pregnancy. Now Lei was so upset by her own news that her friend’s upbeat greeting felt jarring. She adjusted her tone to Marcella’s. “Aren’t you already due?”
“Two days ago. But Baby Kamuela apparently wants to spend a few more days kicking me in the bladder.” Marcella had married a mutual friend, Detective Marcus Kamuela with the Honolulu Police Department, and they’d opted not to know the sex of the child now distending Marcella’s formerly tiny waist to an alarming degree. “I’ve been having some Braxton Hicks contractions when we take walks. Frankly, I can’t wait to get this part over with, so I’m dragging Marcus out for a pep-step every chance I get.”
A mental picture of her friends walking together on the beach, handsome Marcus with a brawny arm around Marcella, her giant belly leading the way, was an emotional twist of the knife for Lei.
She’d so enjoyed being pregnant. The tiny fluttering of their child had felt like butterflies in her belly, the emotional attachment already strong. Losing the baby had been a terrible physical and emotional ordeal. She hadn’t wanted to live for a few days, and it was baby Kiet who’d brought her back, given her purpose, and healed her as much as anything could.
Lei forced a smile into her voice. “Well, if it’s on your to-do list, Marcella, I know it’s gonna get done.”
“What’s wrong?” Marcella’s voice had gone concerned. “I can tell you’re not happy about something.”
Lei paused the truck, making a left turn. Her headlights cut twin bars of golden light into the velvety darkness, scented with the night-blooming jasmine that grew in that area. “Michael’s going overseas. For six months. Starting tomorrow.”
“Oh no!” Her friend’s immediate, heartfelt cry brought tears prickling to Lei’s eyes. “I didn’t think he was really going to do it!”
“I didn’t either. But he ships out tomorrow morning.”
“Do you know where?”
“No. He said it’s classified. He’s going to be working with military police for this private-contract company. Supposedly they recruited him because of his training background and the diversity of Hawaii. All that’s going to make him better at teaching the MPs overseas to work with their native populations. Not that I wanted them to pick him. I’ve been freaking out about this every step of the way, but he’s not listening.” Lei swallowed. “He doesn’t care what I think. What I need.”
“Lei. You know that’s not true. That man adores you. But I get the sense that he’s fighting for his life. I don’t agree with how he’s decided to deal with his problems, but it’s obvious he thinks there’s no other way. Maybe it’s a little bit of a midlife crisis, too?”
“Yeah, it could be. I’m in my thirties now, and the clock is ticking. He’s seven years older.”
“You guys got checked out, right? And there was no reason you couldn’t get pregnant again after the miscarriage.”
“That’s what they say. But three years, Marcella.” Lei’s eyes overflowed. She pulled over onto the grassy verge of the road, putting the vehicle in park. She leaned her forehead on t
he steering wheel. “Three years we’ve been trying to get pregnant. Trying to move on from all that happened with the Changs. It just makes me so mad that they ended up beating us in the end!”
“Oh, honey.” Marcella was quiet as Lei sobbed until she was done, finally reaching for a beach towel on the passenger seat and mopping her face and eyes. “They didn’t beat you. You’re still alive, right?”
Lei snorted a laugh. “Guess I need to remember how deadly that game really was. Yeah, we’re alive, but we’re not together.”
“You can be mad at him, Lei. Be mad, go ahead. But don’t let him leave without showing him you love him. If something happens…” Marcella’s voice caught, and then she went on. “If something happens, you’ll never forgive yourself. And even if it doesn’t—six months is a long period of abstinence, especially after the, what, couple of months since you moved out of the bedroom?”
Marcella knew everything about their problems, and her friend’s perspective was bracing. Lei turned the truck back on, put on the signal, and pulled back onto the road. “You’re right. I can’t let him go tomorrow the way I left things tonight. I may cave and give him a hug.”
“Send him off with more than a hug, damn it. Make him regret all he’s leaving behind.”
“Well, I’m on my way back into the station, so I can think that over. Got an interesting case. Went on my first deep-water body retrieval today.” Lei described the case so far.
“Well, have fun with that. As for me, I’m kind of enjoying maternity leave.” Her friend had worked her last day the week before. “Other than being extremely, uncomfortably pregnant, of course. Anyway, promise me you won’t go all stiff-necked on this. Marriage is for the long haul. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, right?”
“I just didn’t expect so much of the last couple of years to be for the worse.” Lei sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to be where you and Marcus are right now.”