by B K Johnson
She was looking hungrily at Rod over the terrace table, and feasting on his radiant good looks. Her nerves were at a breaking point and she wanted, and needed, a sexual release. He had greeted her right on time at the airport and placed most magnificently smelling and beautiful leis over her head, kissing her deeply to welcome her. While they waited for her luggage to arrive, Rod admitted, “I strung the plumeria and orchid lei myself. The maile lei was made by a kumu hula friend of mine, who also surfs.”
Tommy smiled her thank you and kept these fragrant treasures around her shoulders while they discussed their plans for the remainder of the day, relaxing as much as possible under the traumatic circumstances in the expensive patio furniture.
The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon. Streams of orange and yellow and pink graciously wended their way through the small, puffy clouds of white dotting the clear, cerulean blue of the sky. Golden reflections highlighted every inch of the deep azure blue sea. Pink and orange rays shown clearly on the crests of the 7’-8’ waves which were promising to spend themselves upon the ochre sands of the shoreline. Tommy knew she was in heaven and luxuriated in all of the attention Rod was showering upon her. Why she ever left Hawaii was a continuing question revolving in her mind. Her best friend lived here, her lover had a home here and she’d loved her life in the islands.
Tommy had no sooner put down her empty glass when Rod touched her hand, and further stirred her sexual energy. She knew he felt the same bolt of electricity charge through his body, and one glance between the two of them was enough for them to rapidly shed their clothes and couple right then and there, out in the open on the lanai table. Thank goodness it was sturdy enough to support them as they ravaged each other’s bodies in a blissful and sensual exploration. Though the table moved, it held fast.
The entire process of slaking their mutual desire lasted just 10 minutes, with each of them shuddering in cataclysmic orgasm. Tommy’s climax was just beginning to calm down when a phone rang in the distance. Rod lifted her gently from the table, kissed her swollen mouth, and apologetically left her on the lanai by herself while he went to answer the persistent ringing. Returning to her side, he said, “It’s for you, Tommy. You just got here and already the press is calling,” he joked.
Tommy was stunned and shakily reached out her hand to grasp the receiver. She’d left Rod’s number with only a very few people, which included Duke, Nadine, Trish, and her brother, Eej. Worried that it might be Eej calling her now to let her know her father had passed, she brought the phone to her lips and answered in a whispered hello.
“Is this Tommy O’Malley?” the low alto voice queried.
“Yes, I am Tommy O’Malley,” she responded. “And who the hell are you and how did you know I was at this number?” She was furious that the disembodied voice was not one of her small inner circle privileged enough to have access to Rod’s home. She was even angrier to have this call interfere with the fevered sex she’d been having at Rod. At least she’d gotten the chance to come, she thought, before being so rudely interrupted by a stranger.
The trembling voice continued, “I am so sorry to have bothered you, Ms. O’Malley, but I am so worried about Dave. I am Loke Cabotaje, and am Dave’s fiancée. We just got engaged last week, and now he’s disappeared. I’ve called his folks and they are just as upset as I am. The police are investigating his disappearance, but I don’t think they’re doing enough. I’m desperate, and Dave had given me your number to call if anything should happen to him. He had been followed several times, and was concerned that someone was after him, for some unknown reason.”
At this juncture in Loke’s recitation, Tommy interjected, “I am here to help find Dave, but that still doesn’t explain how you knew to call me here. The phone numbers Dave has are for my office, home and car. And I’ve only just arrived in Honolulu. So tell me how you knew to call me here.” Tommy’s last demand was made stridently. Fiancée to Dave or not, she was greatly disturbed that someone could have located her here so quickly.
“Oh,” pleaded Loke. “Please do not be angry with me. Dave cares for you so much, and I know you would have been on the guest list for our wedding. I just called your office, and your answering message said you were out of the office for a week. You left a number for emergencies, and I called that number and got a woman named Nadine. I told her what’s happening here, and she knew you would want to know more about Dave being missing. So she gave me this number, and told me approximately when you should be arriving. Please don’t blame her either, She was so kind to me.” Loke broke down crying, and her sobs were loud enough for Rod to overhear them.
Loke was so glad she had thought to actually call Tommy’s office again from the disposable cell phone and listen to the message, and then call Nadine and enlist her support. Though she already had Rod’s number, the subterfuge was necessary. Dave did not know it and though Loke stuck him repeatedly, he continued to deny ever having had the number to the Black Point home. It pissed her off that she’d had to leave a message and talk to Nadine when all she wanted to do was call Tommy at Rod’s house and get her to come to her. More playacting, and it was becoming tedious to her. She was losing it.
This came through clearly to Tommy. But she incorrectly interpreted the lack of composure to the circumstances surrounding Dave’s vanishing. “Just calm down now, Loke,” she soothed. “I know Dave was completely infatuated with you, and I would have contacted you before coming to Hawaii if I’d just known how. He never even gave me your last name. The police have been looking for you, didn’t you know? They have a description of you from a student who took Dave’s course with you. We had to go that route because you’d registered for the course as Rose Sanchez, and there are thousands of Sanchezes here on Oahu.”
“I am legally Rose Sanchez, but my father’s name was Cabotaje, so I have been going by that name for some time. I just never got around to changing it legally, and when I went to register, they required my legal name and I had to give them that one.” Loke was lying through her teeth with this explanation. She’d just picked Sanchez out of the phone book because it was so common, and since she knew she would be dating Dave, she had to use Rose, Loke being the Hawaiian name translation. She knew they’d never find her under Sanchez, and now that the end was drawing near, they would not have time to track down all the Cabotajes. And after all, why should they, since she was now delivering herself up on their very doorstep,
Convinced that the woman on the other end of the line was legitimate and Dave’s girlfriend, if not his fiancée, Tommy encouraged her to meet her wherever she wanted and to give her a chronological list of the last few times she was with Dave and where. Tommy had no intention of involving Rod any more than necessary in this search for Dave, and she certainly didn’t want anyone she’d never met knowing where Rod and his family had their private sanctuary. Little did Tommy know that Loke was already privy to that information, and was, in fact, right outside his home.
Loke said she had a tape recording of a message from Dave to her home, and wanted Tommy to listen to it right now. She was insistent, and so Tommy allowed her to play the tape over the phone.
“Loke,” gasped Dave. “They’ve got me. I’m hurt. Get Tommy. I need help. Oh God, help me,” he screamed. With that the phone was obviously destroyed, crushing sounds of metal and plastic threading their way through the recording.
Tommy tried hard to recover from hearing her friend’s fear and knew his phone had to have been discovered by whoever held him captive. What she didn’t know was that Loke herself had finally destroyed Dave’s cell phone while she skewered him once again in his damaged and aching toes. The scream was real and heart wrenching. It pulled at each woman’s core, but for different reasons. Tommy because of Dave’s pain and terror, and Loke because she knew just how effective this tool would be.
“That’s horrible,” Tommy spoke at last.
“Yes, I can’t bear this,” cried Loke.
“Just give me a n
umber where I can contact you and I’ll get whatever information we have this minute,” demanded Tommy. “I’ll call you as soon as I can so we can meet and share anything we’ve got so we can find Dave.”
Loke gave her the number of a second disposable cell phone, wanting to make it as hard as possible for her to be traced through their use. She really felt no one would connect Maile Kaulili’s home in Kailua to her in time for Tommy’s deliverance. Maile had conveniently used their mother’s name on the deed. Loke ended the call and cried again, but this time for joy. At long last, the final person, and the one most responsible for her son’s death, would be punished.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Rod had quietly left Tommy alone in his study to answer the phone call. He really had no idea who would have called her here, but it bothered him not in the least. His family was constantly getting phone calls at the Black Point home, in spite of its number being unlisted. Usually, the person at the other end of the line would be seeking a donation to one charity or another. This organization or that was always hitting up the Jefferson ohana, and his mother persisted in giving out their private home number whenever she pledged a significant donation.
Katherine Jefferson was a force in her own right. Her husband, Rod’s father “Kit”, had requested numerous times that she please inform the donee of the listed office phone, but she chose never to remember it. When she was in Hawaii, she was on vacation. Sure, she continued to visit the many local art galleries, Honolulu symphony, and theaters around the islands. And she contributed to them all. But no way was she going to give this nice man, or that gorgeous woman an office number while on holiday.
Why the woman had requested Tommy by name didn’t disturb Rod, either. Tommy had specifically requested permission to give his number to Trish, Nadine, and Duke and he’d willingly given it. He’d have done most anything just to get her here. He could hardly wait to take her to the beach, and watch her lean but muscled woman’s body sheathed in a bright bikini riding a surfboard on the waves. Or lying on his own yacht, the Lolo, which meant Crazy in Hawaiian. Better yet, Rod envisioned Tommy just as he’d seen her in the flesh today, lying naked and postcoital in his arms.
But Rod was not prepared for Tommy’s loud wail from behind the study door. He came running from the bedroom and opened the door, only to find Tommy with her arms pressed against her chest, her red-flamed hair hanging down from her sagging head. She was chilled and shivering in the 75-degree weather. He quickly raced to her side and enfolded her in his powerful arms, kissing the top of her head and asking, “What is it, sweetheart? What is the matter?”
Tommy allowed him to lead her to the nearby comfortable leather sofa, and she curled herself into a ball in his lap. Her cries were now muffled, but the substance of her earlier grief still came through loud and clear to Rod. For some reason she couldn’t understand herself, she couldn’t respond to his query. Rarely did she ever break down in sobs now, so it took her aback to be stammering out nonsensical words. Finally, she was able to gasp out, “It’s Dave, Rod. Oh, my God, it’s Dave.”
“Whatever’s happened to Dave, Tommy, we will take care of it. Just take the time to calm down for now, and then you can tell me everything. Can I get you something to drink? How about a nice cup of hot chamomile tea with honey?”
She did not respond, but continued to allow herself to be held. Some minutes later the convulsions left her as quickly as they’d taken possession of her. She was able to raise her head and look into Rod’s beautiful blue eyes and say, “A hot cup of tea would be wonderful. You are so good to me, Rod. How did I ever get so lucky to have you in my life, especially now when I need you so much?”
He stroked her silky hair and murmured, “I’ll always be here for you, Tommy. Whether you realize you need me or not.” Rod carefully laid her on the sofa and covered her up with the white fleece robe he’d hastily thrown on while charging out of the bathroom to get to Tommy’s side. Stark naked now, he strode purposefully from the study and went into the kitchen, not even stopping to get dressed before he placed the teakettle on the burner.
Rod would never admit it, but he was a bit shaken himself. He had never seen Tommy break down like this, and he knew that, more than most men did, she eschewed showing weakness of any kind to anyone, male or female. So he was fully aware that whatever news Tommy had learned about Dave was bound to be horrendous. It would take a great deal to reduce Tommy to that quivering child she’d been just a few moments before.
Recognizing that his nudity would probably not help calm Tommy, especially since his cock had a mind of its own when it came to being within two feet of her, Rod went out on to the lanai and picked up the shorts he’d been wearing when he picked Tommy up at the airport. He’d ripped them off his body during their hasty and fevered sex, and thrown them right on the tiled patio floor.
Not concerned about how he looked, just wanting to cover his manhood so he wouldn’t show Tommy any sexual desire for her while she was so distraught, Rod tried to comfort her. He drew on the shorts and cinched the little rope belt around his waist. Rod knew that Tommy had a tendency to think that most men were only after one thing when it came to her. Just a good roll in the hay. Where she’d ever gotten that opinion, he didn’t know. Rod was aware that many women felt that way, but since he’d never thought of women as just sex objects for his amusement and pleasure, the perversion did not apply to him. He figured he would learn more about Tommy in time, and what had convinced her of a man’s view of woman as sex object.
He went into his bedroom, and grabbed a T-shirt out of his dresser. Pulling it quickly over his chest, he raced into the kitchen where the teapot was whistling steadily. He took down one of his mother’s favorite cups, a beautiful china mug that combined both exquisite white bone beauty with little lavender forget-me-nots glazed over a sturdy shape and large handle. Allowing the chamomile to steep, he popped a piece of Portuguese sweetbread in the toaster, and buttered it as soon as it made its appearance. Placing this on a saucer, he stirred some honey into the hot cup of tea and made his way back to Tommy with the best medicine he could think of – love.
She sat up as soon as Rod put the tea and toast on the coffee table in front of her. Tommy held the warm cup close to her chest as she sipped from its delicious depths. She turned the mug around in her hands, over and over again, fixated upon those lovely purple blossoms. Tommy raised her reddened jade eyes and looked into Rod’s steady, tender azure ones, and said “Thank you, Rod. I really need to center myself now so I can think clearly, and you are making that possible.” Rod proffered her the toast and was relieved when she took it from him and delicately bit into it.
“Mmmm,” she murmured. “This sweetbread is as good as I remember it. And I have never had a better cup of tea. You are amazing, Rod. I can feel my strength returning.” She drew in deep breaths, and calmed herself.
Looking at the cup again, she said, “Forget-me-nots. I will never forget how Dave looked at me the first time we met. Here I was, a gung-ho feminist convinced every man in my law school class was a lewd and lascivious beast looking at me with salacious eyes who had to be ignored, and there he was. This tall, shy man, who graciously held the door to the classroom open for me, and called me ‘Ma’am.’
“I looked up at him with suspicion, as if he was trying to charm himself into my panties, and said, ‘You aren’t from the South, honey, so why put on the act?”
It was then I realized that I’d had to look way up, since he was taller than any other man I’d seen in Hawaii. And his guileless brown eyes were obviously hurt by my accusation. All he said was, “My momma taught me to respect women, not cheapen them. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t automatically think every man is an MCP. Some of us are actually pretty good people.”
Tommy continued, “It surprised me so much that he’d seen right through me, and that he knew I figured he was just like all the other guys in the class who’d already come on to me. And I felt it, right then and there, that
this man would be one of the most important men in my life. Every woman needs a really good male friend, and Dave has been that for me for the last 14 years of my life. Three years of law school, five years practicing law, a year of accusations and debauchery, and for the five years I’ve been sober. Never once has he ever asked anything from me but friendship. And I’ll be damned if anyone anywhere is going to take him away from me now.”
“Well, I guess you’re back,” chuckled Rod. “This is the Tommy I’m much more comfortable with, the hell or high water Amazon. Tell me everything and we’ll figure out what we have to do next.”
After Tommy had unloaded everything she’d learned from Loke, and repeated the ungodly screams she’d heard from Dave, she and Rod spent the next hour planning strategy and dividing up tasks. Rod promised to contact Manny, the Oahu detective he’d hired when Tommy first told him about Dave’s disappearance. He said he’d follow up himself with the police on anything they’d learned, and he’d would personally ask the Chief, a good friend of his father’s, to have an officer escort him and Manny through Dave’s home so they could see if there was anything that might have been missed.
For her part, Tommy would call Loke back and set up a meeting so they could exchange information and Tommy could get brought up to speed on Dave’s last few days before his kidnap. Tommy knew now that’s what it was. Dave would never have said, “They’ve got me,” if he wasn’t alive and being held hostage somewhere for some unknown reason. His family was wealthy, but not in the Jefferson’s class, so if anyone had been kidnapped for ransom one would have thought it would be Rod, not Dave.
Rod loaned Tommy the convertible, and when she protested said, “I’ll use my Harley. I know I’ll be in a cop car on the way to Dave’s shortly, so speeding through the streets on my bike will be a great way for me to release some pent-up steam.” Rod also knew it would be good for him to release some pent-up steam and sexual energy while still propelling himself into this investigation with all due haste.
