He filled his lungs, holding his injured ribs to ease the pain while he assessed the damage done to him, and exhaled. Tolerable. The morning had started out bright and clear. The day got better when he secured a dinner date with Dana. In the last hour it had gone to shit.
And it was going to get worse.
Wet anyway.
He studied the dark clouds over Lanai. The storm he thought would not make landfall was now no more than an hour or so away from Maui. Besides being one of the hottest years, it was also one of the wettest seasons on record. Storms fueled by the temporary warming effect of an unusually severe El Niño climate change.
One of the strongest in fifty years.
A flicker of distant lightning caught his eye. The men in the Yukon were gone. He needed to get moving. A hundred yards down the road, he stepped behind a small kiawe tree for what little privacy the thorny limbs offered, and urinated.
He was happy to not see blood.
Confident he could make it to his room, he started walking, following the road back, alert to oncoming vehicles.
Especially black SUVs.
It took him twenty minutes to reach the Pioneer Mill Company Store. More time than he liked. Still, he’d made it that far. And he was thankful for that.
The downhill grade helped.
He went inside and purchased a bottle of water and gulped it down on the front steps. His first inclination was to lay down a call to the police. Up on the hill it had seemed like the thing to do. Having had time to think, that was no longer the case. The cops might find the SUV, but doubtful without a plate number. Furthermore, the vehicle was probably already back in the rental lot it came from. Even if it wasn’t, how many black Yukon’s were there on the island?
And the three goons?
More likely than not, hired professionals not from Maui; probably Oahu. And what would be gained from telling the officers that the three Japanese thugs beat him up and threatened his life? That would get him nothing if he planned to find out why they didn’t want him looking into Ichiro Makoto’s death.
Their warning was clear.
But it only made him want to dig deeper.
Assured his injured ribs would remain where they belonged and not puncture a lung, he crossed Honoapiilani Highway at the traffic signal and, mindful of the pain in his side, jogged the remaining couple of blocks to the tattoo parlor. At the intersection, he slowed to a walk and surveyed the area.
A couple of rental sedans full of tourists rolled to a stop before moving on. But the black Yukon was nowhere to be seen. Not that he expected it to be there. The young Japanese woman either. But a homeless man stood in the shade of a tree tapping way too hard on the screen of a familiar-looking smartphone.
Jack dug into his wallet and produced a crisp twenty which pried the droid from the guy’s grimy fingers.
Jack felt as though he needed a tetanus shot just to hold it again.
Even so, he was happy to find his phone no worse for wear. The protective waterproof cover had been worth the extra expense.
He wiped the screen on the front of his shirt and started to give Robert a heads up, then reconsidered. He’d get his lecture soon enough.
Peering down Waine′e Street, he could see no good reason to walk by the cemetery a second time. Its weathered headstones had beckoned to him once.
That was enough.
He turned and strode toward Lahainaluna Road. Safety in numbers, he thought. With that in mind, he turned left and walked toward Front Street and the crowded sidewalks.
CHAPTER 17
Jack wasted no time weaving his way past the pedestrians on the walkway fronting the ocean. Though he mostly ignored the view, he couldn’t totally. The hiss of the waves receding across the sand drew him to it.
It took him twenty minutes to get back to the Pioneer Inn. The sky over the town had begun to darken with the arrival of storm clouds. So had his spirits. Robert and Kazuko were sure to give him hell for meeting the mysterious woman caller alone and not telling them what he was doing. Admittedly a foolish idea. But the beating had told him something.
There was more to Ichiro Makoto’s death than mere drowning.
Much more.
He knocked on Robert’s hotel room door feeling like a mischievous school boy reporting to the principal’s office after a bout of mischief. He figured they’d be inside waiting for him to return. Ready to tell him he had been a bad boy.
Which he had.
Robert answered the door and exhaled with a huff. Without so much as a hello in greeting, he stepped to the side so Jack could enter. Kazuko glared at him from one of the two chairs at the small table in the corner.
The storm was coming.
Not the one outside.
“Before you two start in on me, let me explain.”
“You’ve been up to your old tricks, haven’t you?” Kazuko said. “Was she pretty?”
He grinned in an effort to make light of the situation, the pleased expression answering her question.
“Thought so,” she said.
Robert closed the door and steadied his gaze. “You weren’t just out on the town on a date, Jack. What gives?”
Mindful of his injured ribs, Jack took a seat in the empty chair at the table. Robert sat on the edge of the bed. Kazuko stayed where she was. He had their full attention.
And he left nothing out.
Even the part about being enticed by the woman.
“So why’d they pick you?” Robert asked when Jack was done.
There was only one answer. And the reality of it burned in Jack’s gut.
“The young woman and the giant driving the Yukon were at the morgue when I arrived there asking questions. My name is all over the police report. Someone there gave them the information.”
“You didn’t recognize the girl and the car?”
“The SUV didn’t ring any bells. As for the woman, I didn’t recognize her until I was inside the vehicle.”
“And your phone number?”
“On the report, as well. And the hotel where we’re staying.”
Robert offered no comment.
Jack took his friend’s silence to mean he accepted the theory, or was seriously considering the notion. He had no choice. There wasn’t another explanation that made sense.
“Okay,” Robert said, after a moment. “We know how they picked you, but that doesn’t answer why they picked you.”
Jack shrugged. “Because I was asking questions, of course.”
The answer brought a series of almost indistinct nods from Robert. His mind analyzing each fragment of data, fitting the pieces together. It was the way he processed information.
“Makes perfect sense,” Robert said. “Ichiro Makoto involved himself in something that got him killed. Something those thugs don’t want you snooping into.”
“Us,” Jack said. “But yeah, that’s how I see it.”
“And the interest in the coordinates?”
Jack pointed in the direction of the ocean. “Because what he was involved in is out there.”
CHAPTER 18
Jack walked to the window, turning his back to his friends. Through the glass, beyond the palm trees and the town library, the ocean had turned gray and rough in the pending storm’s gloom. It would be a dark, moonless night. No boats would venture beyond the no-wake zone.
No one in possession of a shred of common sense.
There was zero doubt in his mind what was going on. That wasn’t what bothered him. He was beyond speculating about motive. There was a bigger mystery nagging him. He wanted to know what got Ichiro Makoto killed.
“What bothers me,” Robert said, “is you thought it best to not tell us about the call from the woman and that you were meeting her.”
One more sting of the barb.
Jack continued to stare at the dark water. He thought the conversation had progressed beyond accusations and innuendos.
He faced his friends, refusing to address the comment
with his back turned.
“Back to that, huh?”
“Yeah we are,” Robert said. “You make a habit of doing this kind of shit.”
Jack swallowed his frustration. There was little of what had been said that he could argue with.
This time he felt he had a reason.
“After the lecture I got from Kazuko,” he looked into her dark eyes hoping for understanding, “do you blame me?”
Her silence didn’t help.
“Oh, jeez, now I get it.” Robert shook his head. “You do something totally dumb and blame your stupidity on someone else.”
Shit.
“Okay, you can stop,” Jack didn’t want to play this game.
Robert frowned, obviously upset. “Yeah, right. Whatever you say.”
Jack allowed his friend to calm.
“Good,” he said after a couple of seconds. He felt better and offered a conciliatory smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“You’re missing the point,” Kazuko said. Clearly, she wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. “You almost got yourself killed. It’s stunts like these that drive me crazy with worry. Both of us.”
“You do understand that, don’t you?” Robert added.
“That’s just it.” Jack held Kazuko in his gaze. “I didn’t want either of you to worry. And I knew how you’d feel if I got Robert involved.”
“I’ve always had your back,” Robert said.
A tinge of guilt flared in Jack’s gut. “I know that.”
He turned to the window and peered into the gloom. The palms rustled in the wind as though they, too, were upset at him for taking such a chance. Even the water failed to offer the solace he looked for.
He shook his head, out of answers.
“I believe you do,” Robert said after a moment.
Before either of them could say more, Kazuko added, “The bottom line is you need to go to the police.”
Jack thought he was done explaining. His decision from earlier hadn’t changed. Involving the police at this point would get him nothing more than his name on another official report.
“Not going to happen.” He glanced back and forth at his friends. “You should know that by now.”
“Which means you’re not backing off.” Kazuko seemed intent to press the issue.
She and Robert had to know he planned to find out why Crewcut didn’t want him looking into Ichiro Makoto’s death—what the dead man had gotten himself involved in. Running to the cops, at least right now, wasn’t an option for him. And it was doubtful it would help matters.
He peered into her eyes, unflinching. “Not until I know what’s going on.”
“And you get yourself seriously hurt . . . or killed.”
Silence settled on the room.
Jack thought he saw tears well in her eyes.
For him.
The quiet was broken when Robert asked, “So what’s your next step?”
Jack couldn’t stop looking at Kazuko. If she wasn’t his best friend’s wife, he could have kissed her. He might, anyway.
On the cheek.
“I’m having dinner with Dana tonight,” he said. “Maybe she has some ideas.”
CHAPTER 19
Jack sat across the table from Dana, watching the candlelight dance golden flecks in her alluring green eyes. Clearly Irish, but some European in the mix somewhere.
The promise of a lovely evening.
Her hair was a few inches longer than it had been a year ago. And she wore it down on her shoulders instead of pinned up. He liked that better. He’d showered, shaved, and dressed in a clean Aloha shirt, Dockers, and scuffed brown-leather deck shoes. The best clothes he had on Robert’s boat. She looked fabulous in her floral dress that was about as close as one comes to formal wear on the islands.
Gerard’s would not have been his choice for dinner, but she said she liked the atmosphere and craved their Hawaiian snapper. He chose the grilled beef filet. She was right about the ambiance.
And the Far Niente Chardonnay.
Il dolce fa niente. The sweetness of doing nothing, as poetic Italian’s say.
“How’s your wine?” he asked. It felt so comfortable sitting close enough to her to languish in the delicate fragrance of her perfume, he considered not bringing up the incident from earlier in the afternoon. It would come up eventually. It had to. For now he was content to enjoy her.
“Wonderful.” She returned her glass to the table. “Do you remember the last meal we had together?”
He recalled in vivid detail every moment of that night. The food, the laughter, and later the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest and the warmth of her thighs wrapped around him in the cool light of the moon shining in on them.
Their relationship shouldn’t have ended. But it did.
He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid.
“A platter of oysters,” he said. “And a couple of bottles of wine not near as good as this one.”
She laughed. “You had the oysters. I had grilled shrimp. But you’re right about the wine. I’m almost sure it came out of a box.”
He smiled, taking in her beauty.
“When we talked the other night, you mentioned you’re not seeing anyone.” He allowed himself to become lost in the allure of her eyes. “Why is that?”
“Probably the same reason you’re not.” She glanced down at her hands and then brought her gaze back up to meet his. “The demands of the job, I guess. I’ve dated, but none of them stuck.”
He couldn’t imagine that happening.
But then he’d let her get away, too.
“Why’d we let it end?” he asked after a moment. “You and me, I mean. We were so good together.”
Her full soft lips parted slightly in a way that stirred his loins and made him want to lean across the table and kiss her long and tender. Did she know what she was doing? Back when they were an item, hot and heavy, there would have been no mistake what was happening.
And he’d have kissed her.
She dropped her gaze and stared wistfully into her wine. “My promotion to Chief and your work with NOAA played a big part in it. We were lucky to have had the time together we did.”
Hearing her talk made the time they’d spent with each other seem like a lifetime ago. The days woven into a continuous dream. Both of them holding onto moments so special they didn’t want them to end. The regret at having to part.
The flicker of relief when we did.
The beginning of the end.
Thinking back, those same words—we were lucky to have the time together we did—was the excuse they used in those first phone calls to one another when they were thousands of miles apart. But now he feared that, in the end, the pretext was nothing more than a reason to justify fears of commitment, possibly on both their parts.
Or maybe just his.
“I never forgot you. Ever.” He took her hand in his. “I even considered taking an assignment up north near you just to see if we could keep what we had going. But then came that ugly business in South America.”
She arched a brow. “The assignment down there wasn’t what you thought it would be, huh?”
He shook his head, picturing the events he’d just as soon forget. “Not even close. But that’s another story.”
“Perhaps you’ll want to tell me about it.” She smiled. “When you’re ready.”
He imagined he would. In time. “Perhaps. When I’m ready.”
“So,” she said. “Are you enjoying your meal?”
“Of course. But not near as much as the company.”
“Likewise.” She lifted the glass and took a sip.
He eagerly glanced around looking for their waiter. “Can I order you something else; another glass of wine, perhaps?”
She dabbed her lips with her linen napkin and returned it to the table. “Nothing thanks. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to visit the ladies room.”
He stood and helped slide her chair b
ack for her. She smiled, rose from her seat, and walked to the hallway at the rear of the room. He watched her move with poise that said they’d never spent time apart.
Secure in their feelings for each other.
His mind was replaying the night they met when she returned to the table and retook her seat. He noticed she’d added a layer of red gloss to her lips. A fresh dash of perfume greeted him when he slid her chair in for her.
“Did you miss me?” she asked.
He smiled and settled in on the opposite side of the table. “I spent the time thinking about the night we met.”
“I remember,” she said. “You were such a gentleman.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, reeling in his thoughts.
Her brow furrowed. “For being a gentleman?”
He shook his head. “For letting us drift apart.”
For no reason he could explain to her, he felt guilt for how their relationship ended. He knew the excuses they used. Almost too trivial to believe now, sitting so close to her, the feelings back as though they’d never left. Deep down there was one other reason for not chasing after her.
One he’d believed he would carry with him, always.
Given the truly regrettable things he’d done over the past few years, he’d believed he was inherently bad. And that anyone who could love him didn’t know the person he really was. Eventually, he convinced himself that the flames fueling their torrid affair would have burnt themselves out. Or she would have become as bad a person as he was.
Gazing into her eyes now he realized what a pathetic crock of shit that was.
“You didn’t allow it to happen,” she said. “It just did.”
“Did it? A smart man would have chased you into the frozen north and never let you go.”
She locked eyes with him, her gaze steady. “A smart woman would have held onto you no matter what.”
CHAPTER 20
Jack ended their dinner with a fine cognac. And after they finished the last sip, he walked hand-in-hand with her into the night air. It was dark and muggy from a light mist that had fallen while they were inside. He looked up and listened to the rattling palms.
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