by Debra Bokur
Hara walked into the room. Kali would have sworn that he was swaggering slightly, his happiness about the new police cruiser distinguishable in his body language. He stiffened as he caught the drift of their discussion, and regarded them with curiosity.
“Did I just hear that we have the cult guy in custody?” he asked.
“No, just a suspect,” said Walter. “Bill Bragden. I locked him up to see if we can shake him up a bit.”
“You know,” said Hara, “not everyone who grows up surrounded by fundamentalist views turns out to be brainwashed, or unable to tell right from wrong.”
Walter nodded slowly. “No, of course not. But we have a unique situation here. We know from witness accounts that Abraham used his daughter as a kind of recruitment officer, bringing people from the pineapple plantation into his flock.”
“But that doesn’t mean she knew that what she was doing was wrong,” insisted Hara.
Kali listened to the exchange, surprised that Hara was standing up a little bit to Walter and offering an opinion. She wondered if being given his own car had affected a personality shift, imbuing the younger man with a new sense of personal power. She almost smiled.
“Hara’s right,” she said to Walter. “I think the amount someone can be brainwashed into buying a belief system depends entirely upon the individual. At this point, I don’t think we should assume anything. I’d rather go easy with her right now, and focus on the older women, Ruth and Linda. One of them at least—and probably both of them—know something about Matthew Greene. If I had to bet, I’d say they also have information about the other bodies. And we still have no idea who the pineapple man is.”
“Do you think,” began Walter, speaking slowly, “that maybe Bill Bragden thought that if he killed Matthew Greene, Linda would be satisfied and would stay with him? What reason would Waters have for killing him?”
“The same reason, I’d guess,” she answered. “Or possibly, Greene challenged Waters in some way. Two alpha males in competition.” She briefly considered the facts, then made a decision. “I’m going to talk to Abigail again. Maybe I can get her to tell me about Helen and Reggie joining the cult. From what we’ve learned about her role at the plantation, Abigail was most likely the point of contact. Let me do that before we bring in Mrs. Waters and Mrs. Waters.”
Walter tilted his head in agreement. “Tell her you’re going to record what she says, though. We may need it.”
CHAPTER 30
Kali drove home, intending to have a quick bite and check in on Makena before she headed back to Eden’s River to speak with Abigail. A few enormous raindrops spattered on the windshield of the Jeep, splashing the dust that had gathered on the glass surface. Hilo was waiting on the front of the lanai, whining, when she pulled into her parking space beneath the trees. Instead of running down the front steps to greet her, he remained standing by the front door, his tail lowered into the half-mast position that was always a sign that he was unhappy.
“What’s wrong, boy?” she asked, rubbing his ears. The sky had clouded over, and there was the rumble of distant thunder. She opened the door and went inside, wondering if the approaching storm was causing Hilo to be uneasy. The house was silent. Makena’s door stood open, and Kali walked toward it, noticing that the bed appeared to be stripped. She stood in the threshold and looked inside. The sheets and light bedcover had been neatly folded. The pillowcase was on top, and the bare pillow had been placed just behind the stack of bedding. In front, leaning against the soft stack, was the little horse, and a dress she’d found that was too small for her, which she had left in the closet for Makena.
She walked slowly into the room, followed by Hilo, engulfed by a sinking feeling. There was a piece of paper on the top of the bedding. She lifted it, carrying it to a spot in front of the window where she could study it in the light.
The note was brief, written in Makena’s childish scrawl: I washed all the sheets and blankets. Here’s your dress. I didn’t want you to think I was stealing it. Take care of Hilo. Nothing else. No indication of where she was headed, or how she’d get there. Kali reread the note, gazing out the window at the distant sea. She dropped the piece of paper onto the bed and picked up the small stuffed horse, turning it over in her hands, the softness offering no comfort. She placed it back in its spot near the pillow. Then, hating herself for doing it, she walked through the small house, looking for what might be missing—any small item that Makena might have carried away to sell or use to barter for drugs.
Everything was where she’d left it, including the few pieces of valuable jewelry she possessed. There was a pair of gold earrings with tiny sapphires that Mike had given her for a birthday one year, her good wristwatch, and her grandmother’s wedding band. The ring was too small, and she’d always planned to take it to a jeweler to have it altered to fit her finger, but had just never gotten around to it. She turned it over in her hand, slipping it onto the tip of her finger, then placed it back into the ceramic bowl that served as her jewelry box.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her back pocket. She didn’t recognize the number, but when she pushed the button to accept the call, the soft, now-familiar voice of Abigail Waters came through the speaker.
“Detective Mhoe? This is Abigail Waters. I wonder if I might meet you somewhere to talk?”
Kali tried to hide her astonishment. “Yes, of course. I was going to get in touch with you anyway. Can you come to the police station?”
She could sense the hesitation. “Could we meet somewhere less . . . official?” asked Abigail. “I’d like to talk, but I think I’d be uncomfortable there, and it would be best if my father didn’t know.”
“All right,” said Kali, cautious. “But I’ll choose the place, if you don’t mind. There’s a shave-ice stand on the road between where you are and where I am, with picnic tables set up around the food truck. How about there?”
“I know the one you’re talking about. Near the turnoff to the market center?”
“That’s the one,” said Kali.
“Could you meet me there in about an hour?”
Kali glanced at her watch, agreeing on the time. She ended the call, wondering what it was that Abigail wanted to tell her that she felt unsafe saying in front of her father. She left a message for Walter, then took a banana from a bunch on the kitchen counter, and grabbed a light jacket.
By the time she’d driven within sight of the shave-ice stand, the sky had grown dark, and the rain was falling steadily. The heavy drumbeat of drops striking the Jeep’s canvas rooftop was oddly lulling, and she pulled into the parking area of the stand hoping against hope that Abigail might actually tell her something useful that would lead to the discovery of who had left five people in unmarked graves in the old fruit field—even if the people responsible had been her parents.
She peered past the windshield wipers and eased across the dirt parking area, which had devolved into a borderless pool of mud. The stand was shuttered and closed, and the only other vehicle visible was an old pickup truck parked at an angle in the rear of the stand near a line of picnic tables. The truck had been backed into its parking spot, the bed partially extending beneath the overhang of trees that grew along the edge of the space behind it. The headlights were on, shining outward.
Kali backed in beside it and set the parking break. It was impossible to see into the truck’s cab, so she waited, not completely sure that this was Abigail’s vehicle. When it was clear there was no reaction to her arrival from anyone in the truck, she grabbed her jacket and opened the door of the Jeep, then climbed out and pulled the hood over her hair.
The driver’s door of the truck opened slightly, and Abigail leaned out. She was alone. “I wasn’t sure what you would be driving,” she said. “Do you want to sit in here with me?”
The rain was growing more intense. Kali shook her head, pointing to the Jeep. “In here,” she said. “The passenger door’s unlocked.”
She turned around, walking behind the Jeep toward her
door on the driver’s side, picking her way across the slick footing. She was looking down, reaching for the handle of the driver’s door, when there was a sudden movement from beneath the trees. Kali was aware of a figure rushing out toward her. She spun to defend herself, slipping in the mud as the figure raised an arm. She was vaguely aware that it was a man, and that he was holding something. As her mind made this connection, he brought the object down with force, striking her on the side of her head.
Kali felt herself fall, and fall again, walled in by blackness and silence. She rolled, aware that there was no sense of the usual, nebulous boundaries of space and time. The silence was complete—there was no sound at all, not even the beating of her own heart. There was nothing but the dark, opening into a vast and shapeless void, wrapping around her. She moved into it, grateful to be free.
* * *
Walter paced back and forth across the station room. He glanced at the wall clock, and then back down at his phone screen, his trepidation growing steadily. Hara watched him, his own alarm evident.
“It’s been four hours since I got this message, and she’s still not answering,” said Walter. “Text, phone, nothing. I’m going to call her neighbor, that knife guy, and see if he noticed her leaving and what direction she went in.”
“Her message didn’t say where she was going to meet Abigail Waters?” asked Hara.
“Just that she’d see her in about an hour. So she didn’t drive all the way out to the farm or commune or church or whatever the hell that Eden’s River place is. That would’ve taken longer.” He turned to Hara. “What’s that guy’s name? The Icelandic guy that lives next door to her?”
“Elvar Ellinsson. There was an article in the newspaper about him.”
“Yeah, I saw that. Can you find his number?”
“Got it,” said Hara, typing rapidly on his keyboard. He read out the digits and Walter made the call.
Elvar answered on the fourth ring, and Walter let out his breath, running his hand across his brow. He had begun to ask Elvar to go next door, but Elvar interrupted him.
“I was just on my way there,” he said. “Hilo’s outside, barking like crazy. He’s all worked up about something. I’m heading over to make sure everything’s okay.”
Walter felt his heart begin to pound. He gave Elvar instructions to call him back as soon as he got to Kali’s. Less than a minute later, Elvar phoned, out of breath.
“She’s not here, and the Jeep is gone.” He hesitated, his tone unsure. “The thing is, there’s a screen knocked out of a window in the living room where Hilo got out. She must have left it open, even though it’s raining. And her front door is unlocked.”
That news troubled Walter. It meant that wherever she’d gone, she’d done so in a hurry, and hadn’t planned to be away this long. “You have no idea which way she may have gone?”
“I didn’t see her,” said Elvar. “With all the rain pounding on our roof, I didn’t hear her Jeep start up or see the lights. What can I do to help?”
“We’ve got limited manpower available right now. Do you have a car handy?”
“Sure. I can borrow Birta’s Volkswagen. Where should I go?”
Walter thought it over. “Keep your phone at the ready, and head south from your driveway. Keep your eyes peeled for the Jeep parked anywhere along that stretch for about a forty-minute drive. I’m heading out with Officer Hara. If you spot the Jeep, pull over and call. I’ll do the same.”
He hung up and radioed the main station, requesting that helicopter backup be readied in case a wider search proved necessary, cursing the remoteness of the Hana station and the lack of available assistance at short notice. “Tell them to make sure there’s a medic onboard,” he said, his apprehension steadily increasing.
Hara drove while Walter scanned the sides of the road. Neither of them said what each of them was thinking—they needed to find Kali as quickly as they possibly could.
* * *
His tall frame crammed into the driver’s space of his sister’s small car, Elvar drove along the Hana Highway, looking left and right in hope of spotting the Jeep. The road was fairly empty, as were the occasional shops and businesses he passed. He was growing discouraged when he spotted the Jeep pulling onto the road from the shave-ice stand. He instantly recognized it as Kali’s vehicle. There was a truck following it closely.
Elvar pulled off the road into the parking area and rolled down his window, knowing that Kali would recognize Birta’s car and stop. Instead, the Jeep crept toward the main road, bucking slightly as though the person driving it was unfamiliar with driving a standard transmission or how to operate a clutch without stalling. As it drew abreast of his car, he saw an unfamiliar woman at the wheel. She was young, and looking intently at the road, ignoring him. She made her way onto the main road, and the truck pulled out behind her. Another young woman was driving, and she paid no attention to the Volkswagen.
Elvar didn’t recognize either driver. He watched as the taillights of the truck pulled away behind the Jeep. He dialed Walter, who answered immediately, and explained where he was and what he had just seen.
“Follow them,” said Walter, “but try not to let them know you’re behind them. Anytime they turn off somewhere, let me know right away. We’re headed your way, and the police helicopter’s in the air and closing in on this area.”
“What’s going on?” Elvar asked.
“Kali’s likely in trouble,” said Walter. “That’s all I can say for sure.”
“You mean she’s in danger,” said Elvar.
Walter hesitated. “Yeah. We think she’s in danger. And you could be, too, if the people you just described realize that you’re tailing them. Be careful. Don’t approach them. Just stay in touch. We need to know where they’re taking the Jeep.”
Elvar hung up and sped along the highway until he caught sight of the taillights ahead. It was still raining, though not as hard, and the drivers of the Jeep and the truck were being cautious on the slick road. He slowed down, keeping the truck just within his line of sight. In another fifteen minutes, the two vehicles made an exit from the main road, turning onto a side road to the right. The track was thick with mud, and the Volkswagen fought its way over potholes that had become obscured by standing water.
He followed slowly as they made several more turns, eventually making their way onto a dirt track leading to the wooden gates of Eden’s River. Elvar turned off his headlights and eased to a stop, watching from the distance of the road outside of the gates as the Jeep and truck parked near a large barn. There was the sound of the truck door slamming, and the two drivers disappeared into the dark barn. A few minutes later, he saw lights switch on in the windows of two upper rooms. The figure of a woman was silhouetted against the glass of one.
There were at least two other buildings that he could make out. He called Walter back, describing what he could see.
“Stay put until we get there,” said Walter. “We’re not too far out, but I don’t want to keep the siren on when we get close.”
“She might be in one of these two buildings,” said Elvar. “I don’t think she’s in the barn. I can see one of the women moving around in front of the window in one of the rooms where the hayloft should be.” Elvar stared at the window, watching for any sign that there might be other people present. “It looks like she’s brushing her hair.”
He got out of the car, making his way carefully across the unfamiliar footing and through the gates. He followed the path that led to Abraham’s house, but it appeared to be dark. Lights could just be made out in the smaller house farther along the pathway, so he crept along as quietly as he could. The diminishing rain still spattered against his face, and a restless wind moved the tree branches overhead and along the edge of the path, spreading the drops of water collected among the leaves.
He tripped when he reached the board over the stream, catching himself just before he fell into the water. The light he’d seen was emanating from low windows along
the ground level at the base of the house. He crawled forward, using the shrubs for cover, and stared inside. There was a group of people standing together near a tall lamp. As one of them stepped away, he caught his breath. He could see Kali, tied to a chair.
Elvar drew back from the window. He retraced his steps along the path and across the stream back to the car, fumbling for his keys and phone. He dialed Walter’s number, then opened the trunk, groping for anything he might be able to use as a weapon, berating himself for not having one of his own knives with him. His hand closed around the tire iron, and he pulled it out.
“Where are you?” asked Walter, betraying his fear.
Elvar described his location.
“That’s Eden’s River,” said Walter, speaking to Hara.
“She’s inside a kind of basement in the house to the rear off the main path,” continued Elvar. “She’s tied to a chair. There’s blood all over her face.”
“Don’t do anything, Elvar. Leave it to the police. Stay by the car. The chopper should be there soon, and we’re on our way. Is there a clearing?”
“Yes, a wide open garden space in front of the barn,” Elvar said, already racing back up the path toward the house. Walter said something else, but Elvar had already shoved the phone deep into his pocket, freeing up the use of his hands.
CHAPTER 31
Kali made a mighty effort to open her eyes. For a moment, she was unable to distinguish between up and down. There was a swimmy, fluid sensation, and she instinctively tried to reach out to steady herself, to grab on to a surface with enough force to keep the world from whirling off its poles and off into infinity. She couldn’t move her arms. It took her a second to realize that she was seated upright in a stiff chair with her arms tied tightly behind her back, and that the reason she couldn’t see clearly was largely due to one eye having swelled almost shut. She lurched slightly, the sense of vertigo seizing her stomach, causing her to retch.
“I’m sorry that my son hit you so hard,” said a woman’s voice. To Kali’s ears, the tone didn’t sound nearly as apologetic as it should. She tried to turn her head to see who was speaking, but the room was in shadows, and moving only increased her sense of falling.
