by Toby Neal
“Can you guys take these restraints off?” I asked as they stowed my IV bag. “I’m not going anywhere now that I’m rescued.”
“Of course, sir.” One of the men pulled a combat knife from his belt and cut the bindings at my hands. He lifted the sheet and cut the ones at my feet, tucking the sheet back around them.
I asked what I thought they’d know. “Where are we?”
“Capital of Honduras. Tegucigalpa,” the medic who’d helped me said.
“Tegucigalpa.” It was pronounced pretty much like it was spelled. “So…I’m going where?”
“Back to the States. You’ve been negotiated.” The young man grinned. “Hear you had a short but eventful time in Honduras.”
“You have no idea.” I was headed for home. Gratitude swept over me. “I’m still not sure how I got from Nicaragua to where I was rescued.”
“Nicaragua, sir? You must be mistaken.” The medic put a blood pressure cuff on me and pumped it up.
“The kidnappers captured me in Nicaragua. In a village over there.” I saw the glance the man gave the other medic. Then he looked back down at me.
“Well, you’re going home now. Just take it easy.”
Somehow his words had the opposite effect on me. I had questions—and they weren’t being answered.
I’d just have to be patient. I shut my eyes and tried to relax.
Lei’s hands were clumsy as she fumbled with the satellite phone, looking for a place to pull the truck over. The number in the little window was unfamiliar, but she got the truck pulled to the shoulder and put the phone to her ear.
“This is Sergeant Texeira.”
“Westbrook here. Good news! We’ve negotiated the release of the prisoners.”
“Oh my God!” A ripple of joyful excitement lifted the hairs all along Lei’s arms. She shut her eyes against the prickle of tears. “When can I see him?”
Westbrook’s voice sobered. “There have been some complications. Your husband was pretty severely injured and is still recovering. He’ll be shipped to Tripler Army Hospital on Oahu. So you’ll have to wait for that, but we anticipate his return in a few days.” He cleared his throat. “And I think you’ll appreciate that there’s a clause in his contract that cancels it, with full payment for the term of contract, in the case of kidnapping or injury. In his situation, both occurred, so he’ll be getting a bonus.”
“I don’t care about that!” Excitement had disappeared the minute Westbrook said “severely injured,” leaving an ash of anxiety in Lei’s mouth. “How badly was he hurt?”
“We don’t know yet. We’ve transferred the funds to ensure the men’s safety, but we don’t know what condition they’re in. We were told to send medical personnel and special transport for one of the prisoners, and when we asked which one and why, they said it was Lieutenant Stevens, but didn’t tell us the extent of his injuries.”
“Okay.” Lei restrained her exclamations and questions with difficulty, remembering how Westbrook had shut her down in the past. “So he’s in transit?”
“Yes. But it’s a long way from Central America, so it’ll be at least two days until he’s at Tripler.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go to Oahu to wait for him.”
“He will need to be questioned. Debriefed. Some psychological assessments,” Westbrook said.
“Of course. But I know Michael. The thing that will help him most is to see his family as soon as possible.” Even as she said the words, Lei wondered. Stevens hadn’t been acting like his family was the most important thing in his life before his departure.
“I’m sure that’s true. Just thought you should know there will be some protocols to follow,” Westbrook said.
Lei said goodbye and ended the call, setting the phone beside her on the seat. She leaned her head on the steering wheel. “Thank you, God. Thank you so much for bringing him back to me.” She straightened up, put the truck in gear, and drove home.
Jared was at the house, tossing a ball for Kiet, when she pulled up. His tall, dark-haired form was so similar to her husband’s that it gave her a twinge. Her son barely looked up as he swung at Jared’s soft, slow pitch with earnest effort, tongue trapped in the corner of his mouth. The little boy connected and the softball shot past Jared, who made a halfhearted effort to catch it in his glove.
Conan, who’d been waiting for just such an opportunity, bolted after the ball, the big Rottweiler’s powerful haunches launching him forward in great leaps.
Lei could feel a smile stretching her face, so wide it hurt, as she got out of the truck. Jared grinned back at her, that quality of charisma he radiated giving his expression an extra dollop of charm. “Hey, sis! You’re looking like you got good news.”
“I did.” Lei waited until both of them were looking at her, and then she opened her arms to Kiet. “I’m so happy, little man. Daddy’s coming home!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kiet ran up the cement walkway to Lei’s grandfather Soga’s house as she paid off the driver who’d given them a ride from the airport. Soga Matsumoto opened the door wide, his normally stern face cracked down the middle with the big grin he reserved for his great-grandson. “My boy!” he exclaimed.
“Grandfather!” Kiet embraced Soga tightly around the waist. Lei hurried up the tiny walkway to throw her hug in over her son’s.
“Grandfather, it’s so good to see you.” She breathed in his scent, flavored with a hint of glue and sandalwood. He must have been working on the floating lanterns he made every year for the Shinnyo temple’s famous annual floating lantern ceremony on Memorial Day.
“Your husband is returning. Such a good thing, and I get a visit out of it.” He released them abruptly, as was his way, and turned, opening the front door. “Come in. Your room is ready.”
Since Lei had reconnected with her grandfather while she was in the FBI, their relationship had grown deeper. He’d greeted Kiet’s surprise arrival with delight, and though she’d seen him eye her waistline speculatively, he never asked about more children, something for which Lei was grateful.
She followed Soga through the sparsely furnished house to the guest room he’d renamed “their” room. She turned into the room to drop off her bag as Soga led Kiet out to his workshop, one of her son’s favorite places in the world.
Lei took a moment to flop backward on the queen-sized bed with its silky spread. It had been another full, eventful day before she’d been able to get away from work. The cold-case mystery that had begun with a small battered skull had turned out to be one of the most emotional but satisfying cases she’d worked in a long time.
Elizabeth Black had called Lei to report that the three foster boys had been kept together to minimize their attachment trauma, and a stable long-term home had been found that would keep them together.
Lei had finished all her paperwork and reports on the raid at the hideout in Kaupo. Tony had been released for a day to direct a team to retrieve his brother’s remains, which were now slated to be reburied in a county-owned grave plot. Luke and Tony’s parents were deceased, so Lei planned to attend the burial with the teen, who would be given a day pass for the occasion.
Lei had taken family leave to come here and deal with Stevens’s situation. Lying on the bed, her eyes shut, she remembered the quick visit she and Kiet had made to the boys’ new foster home on the way to the airport.
She’d called ahead this time, and the long-term foster mother, a large Hawaiian woman with a face creased from smiling, opened the door to them. Clad in a hibiscus-covered aloha shirt and capris, an air-dried clay plumeria decorating her braid, she smiled warmly at Lei.
“Welcome. I’m Aunty Belinda.”
“Sergeant Lei Texeira. Mahalo for keeping the boys together and taking them all.” Kiet liked to hang back and observe in new situations, so Lei squeezed his shoulder and pushed him forward gently. “This is my son, Kiet. Say hello to Aunty Belinda.”
“Hello, Aunty,” Kiet repeated obediently, but
he still pressed back against Lei.
Lei heard the thunder of approaching footsteps. The doorway filled with all three boys, tall, medium, and short. Their cheeks already looked fuller and eyes brighter since she’d seen them last.
“Aunty Lei!” As usual, Danny was the most forthcoming and affectionate, stepping past Kiet to embrace her. “You came to visit us at our new house!”
“I told you. You’re part of my ohana now. This is my son, Kiet. Kiet, this is Danny, Kekoa, and Dexter.” Lei put her hands back on the little boy’s shoulders. “You’re going to have some hanai brothers now.”
“What’s hanai?” Kiet asked.
“Means Hawaiian-kine adopted,” Danny said. “So we going be brothers.”
Kekoa squatted a little, down to the younger boy’s height. “Kiet, you like video games?”
Lei and Stevens limited his consumption of that kind of electronic media even more than TV, so Kiet’s whole body came alive as he replied. “Yeah!”
“Mario Brothers?” Danny cocked his head.
“Mario Kart is my favorite,” Kiet said.
“We got ’em.” Danny gestured. “Come see.” Kiet shot after Danny and Kekoa, leaving Lei with Dexter, standing in the doorway. Aunty Belinda opened the door wider.
“Come in. We getting mosquitoes already.”
“Oh, shoots, I’m sorry.” Lei hurried across the threshold into a spacious living room lined with worn couches. A big-screen TV made the far wall into a movie theater. “Can I talk to Dexter a minute? Privately?”
“Sure. I was just getting lunch ready. You and your boy like something fo’ eat?” Aunty Belinda asked over her shoulder.
“No thanks. We can’t stay long. We’re on our way to the airport.”
The woman nodded as she left. Lei smiled at the tallest of the boys. A lock of disorderly black hair hung over one of his eyes. She resisted the urge to stroke it back. “You’re looking better, Dexter.”
He nodded, though he still made no move to approach her. “Let’s sit for a minute.” Lei gestured to the right angle formed by the couches. “Did that doctor guy Elizabeth sent come visit you?”
“Yeah.” Dexter sat next to Lei and hung his hands between his knees. “I talked to him.”
“Did it help?” She did reach out now, slowly, as if petting a feral cat. She pushed the errant lock back and smiled. “You should cut your hair. You have nice eyes. The girls will love you when you get back to school.”
He ducked his head, and the tops of his ears went red. “I haven’t been in school for so long. They’re going to think I’m dumb.”
Lei coughed to get her voice working again, but it still sounded thick with emotion when she said, “Anyone meeting you can tell you’re not dumb. How long were you at the farm?”
“Two years, I think. I was eleven, almost twelve when I got there. We had no calendar, but we had two Christmases out there. Uncle brought us presents at Christmas.” He picked at the arm of the worn, tweedy couch.
“So you’re going to be fourteen soon?”
“Yeah.”
Aunty Belinda returned with a cutting board covered with slices of mango, papaya, and pineapple. “Aunty Belinda, did you know you’ve got a birthday boy here?”
“No! When’s your special day?”
Dexter told her the date, in another week, and she clapped her hands. “Perfect. We’ll get the whole ohana together. And maybe your parents can come, too.”
“I’m not sure I want to see them.” Dexter looked at Lei anxiously. “They never tried to find me or get me back.”
“Oh, now, we don’t know that,” Aunty Belinda said. “They’re still investigating the whole thing and how it happened, where your folks have been. We won’t know anything for a while. But you wouldn’t say no to more presents, right?”
Dexter shook his head. He appeared to be thinking it over as he eyed the tray of fruit.
Lei picked up a savory-smelling pineapple spear and took a bite. The sweet, tart, flavorful taste burst across her tongue. She shut her eyes to savor it. “Aunty—this pineapple. So sweet, so ono!”
“Thank you. My husband, he works for Maui Land and Pineapple. The employees always leave a little bit at the edge of the field after the harvest to get fully ripe, so they can take home a few to the families.”
Dexter, encouraged, picked up some pineapple, too. Aunty handed them each a paper towel to blot up the drips.
“Would you like me and Kiet to come to your birthday?” Lei asked. “I’d really like to.”
“Yes, please,” Dexter whispered. “You folks come.”
“Okay, we will.” Lei wiped her hands on the paper towel. “I hate to go, but we have to catch a plane.”
Now, lying on the bed on Oahu, she wondered what would be going on a week from now. Would Stevens be ready or able to come home? In any case, she had to be back on Maui for Luke’s burial and Dexter’s birthday. She had an ohana that needed her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I slept a lot on the trip home, and through the transitions, there was no one to ask my many questions—just a series of uniformed medics at each plane or way station. On the last big transport plane, finally able to sit up for short periods, I glimpsed the turquoise of Pearl Harbor out the windows and knew I was almost home. I was still on a gurney and an antibiotic drip when they brought me off that plane and onto an ambulance in Honolulu.
Honolulu Airport has a unique smell: the sharp reek of hot asphalt, the tang of metal, and the lush perfume of plumeria. The breeze, not as stifling and humid as it was in Honduras, blew across me as they wheeled me over the tarmac, and I enjoyed a brief exposure to the sun and wind before the transport to Tripler.
I still felt weak and shaky, headache beating a dull timpani in the background of my thoughts, but I couldn’t wait to talk to someone and find out when my family would be notified about my rescue.
They put me in a single room with no windows, the orderlies transferring me briskly from the gurney to a hospital bed, hooking up all the monitors, and leaving. The door had a small, wire-threaded window in it, and the sound it made when it closed was the definite snick of a lock.
This wasn’t what I’d expected. Not that I’d known what to expect.
A nurse entered, small and tidy in Hawaiian-print scrubs, shiny black hair, and tawny-brown skin showing her Filipina ancestry as much as her pretty white smile as she greeted me. “Welcome to Tripler Army Hospital, Lieutenant Stevens. I’m Abbie, and I’ll be taking care of you during the day. Dr. Revas is on his way to give you a thorough physical exam.”
“Okay.” I tried to control my impatience as she took my blood pressure, pumping up the handheld bulb. “I need to talk to someone, though. About what happened. I have a lot of questions.”
“I’m sure you do.” Abbie peeled off the blood pressure cuff. “But I can’t help you with that. What would you like for lunch? We have some menu choices.” She handed me a white card with the menu options on it.
“You know what? I need to speak to someone now. I’ve been waiting ever since Honduras. I need to know what’s happening. I don’t care what’s for lunch.” I felt my voice escalating, and just then the door opened again and admitted a small, tan-colored man with the lithe build and quick, darting movements of a mongoose.
“He’s agitated,” Abbie said. I ground my teeth.
“Hello, Lieutenant. I’m Dr. Revas.” The man leaned forward so abruptly I started back. His small, bright eyes reminded me even more of a mongoose. “I need to check your head injury dressing and infection dressing. But first, a quick exam of your visual reflexes.”
“When am I going to be debriefed?” I knew I was growling and couldn’t seem to help it. “I have a right to know what the hell is going on.”
“Why are you so concerned, Lieutenant? Surely you know you’re safe, back in Honolulu.” Revas flicked on a tiny penlight, peered into my eyes.
“Of course I know that. But something isn’t right. My feet should
be—infected. Ruined from being wet in boots for days. The last time I saw them, they were disgusting. I can feel them, and they feel fine.”
“Hmm.” Revas nodded to Abbie, who loosened the bedclothes and lifted them off of my feet. “They look fine to me.”
My feet were pale and soft, as if they hadn’t been out of bed in weeks. My heart sped up on a burst of panic. How long had I been sick? It must have been weeks for my feet to be recovered this way. Dr. Revas and Abbie exchanged a glance, and the nurse covered my feet up again as Revas made a note on the clipboard he was holding.
“What? What does it mean? How long was I sick?” My voice climbed. “How was I rescued from the captain in Nicaragua?”
“Calm down, Lieutenant. You’re safe now,” Abbie soothed, patting me. I bit my lip to keep from lashing out in fury. The pain helped ground me. Too late, I realized Dr. Revas had used Abbie’s distraction to inject something into my IV.
“Shit, no! Not more sleeping. I want answers! I want to speak to my wife!” I tugged on Abbie’s sleeve, frantic, but the dark pulled me under again.
The next time I woke up, the room was dim. There was no way to tell what day or time it was. My bed had been lowered most of the way, and when I tried to move, I discovered I was restrained again.
“Damn it!” I indulged in a stream of profanity, venting my rage and helplessness. There was something wrong here. Something going on. I shouldn’t be tied up and stashed away like this.
Panting, I subsided, my head and side stabbing with pain. I needed to think, to use the limited information I had to figure out where I was, what was going on, and how to get out.
I looked around the room more carefully.