“And just how would we do that? By carrying out our job?” I retorted angrily.
“No. By stepping into a matter that we shouldn’t,” Pryor countered.
There was no question that it was business as usual with Pryor in charge. The big boys in D.C. had again seen fit to tie me to a boss who believed if you ignore a problem long enough, it would just go away. Putting the two of us together was as good as placing TNT and nitroglycerin in the same room. All they had to do was chuck in a rabid mongoose with a lit match.
I turned, ready to storm out of his office, unable to believe I’d been stupid enough to reveal anything about Yakimov in the first place. However, Pryor’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“By the way, Porter. I hear that you’re trying to stick your nose into that other bit of business we discussed.”
A chill wrapped itself around me, tight as a wetsuit. How could Pryor possibly have known? Secrecy was the entire reason that Kalahiki had decided to meet me at Ka’ena Point.
I turned back to face him, wondering if this might be about something else.
“What business is that?” I asked, working hard to keep my tone neutral.
“Those shark finning rumors that you told me about.”
Pryor’s normally bland gaze now sharpened into steely determination, driving the point home that the matter was serious. “I’m going to tell you one more time, and I expect you to listen. We don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“Why should there be any trouble?” I questioned, equally determined to dive headlong into whatever was going on.
“You know damn well why. I’ve already told you that sharks aren’t under our jurisdiction,” he barked in frustration.
Enough of this crap. It was time to discover where Pryor’s loyalty really lay.
“But what if it turns out that NMFS actually knows shark finning is still going on and yet refuses to do anything about it? Who’s responsible for what happens to sharks then?” I queried, refusing to hold my tongue.
Only good sense kept me from revealing the equally tantalizing rumor that finning led all the way up to a powerful government official.
Pryor’s eyes narrowed to two sharp pincers, and his hands scuttled across his desk, his limp thumb dragging behind like a useless claw.
“And why would you think that?” he asked.
His voice no longer held its usual bluster, but had become soft and low, reminding me of a snake that was about to attack.
“It just strikes me as odd that an agency responsible for the well-being of the fishing industry should also be solely in charge of marine species whose numbers keep dwindling. Doesn’t that bother you, as well?” I challenged.
If Pryor had rattles attached to his rear, I would have heard them shaking by now.
“Be careful what you accuse NMFS of. That kind of slur can bury someone,” he warned. “Your transfer to Hawaii is a double-edged sword. This is the land of starting over again. But fuck up, and your career can very well die here. It’s your choice. Just remember that you can’t sneeze on this island without me knowing about it.”
Pryor’s threat made me absolutely furious, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. Arguing any further would lead nowhere. It was little wonder so few people realized that Fish and Wildlife agents had been stationed in Hawaii before me. Those agents had played by Pryor’s rules and never made a ripple. Their reward was to be promoted up. As for Pryor, he’d never voluntarily leave this job. And the man wouldn’t be fired unless caught selling crack cocaine in the governor’s mansion, or was found to be sleeping with one of bin Laden’s wives.
Know thine enemy, was the phrase that flit through my mind, as I slipped back into my office.
As of now, I’d identified Norm Pryor as my number-one nemesis.
I passed the time typing out reports and listening to the overhead drone of planes. But my thoughts were on other matters.
How had Pryor managed to learn that I’d gone against his advice and plunged feetfirst into investigating the shark-finning trade? Had he been tipped off, or just made an educated guess? And, if so, had I been tricked into foolishly revealing my hand? Thoughts such as this kept tumbling around in my brain, driving me crazy.
Fortunately, Pryor remained in his room all day and stayed far away from me. Not that it really mattered. All I wanted to do was ask Kalahiki who else knew about our meeting. But the sun wouldn’t be setting for hours.
By the time 4:30 rolled around, I was nearly climbing the walls and had begun to identify with my poster of the shell-shocked duck probably a little more than was healthy.
True to form, Pryor walked out the door at 4:34. I waited five minutes more and then quickly followed.
Rush hour traffic seemed benign compared to the proverbial prison I’d been stuck in all day. For once, I didn’t even curse at the other cars around me. Instead, I spent the time daydreaming about the possible results that could come from breaking out of my cage.
What if I were able to bring down Yakimov and make a dent in the invasion of alien species? What if I were allowed to shut down the shark-finning trade? What if I were given leeway to actually make a difference when it came to the decimation of Hawaii? What if, what if, what if? Who’d ever have guessed those two little words would so completely rule my life?
There had been plenty of time when I’d left the office, but it was quickly eaten away. I dismissed the burger and fries that were beckoning to me, and headed straight for Ka’ena Point.
Soon I was shaking, rattling, and rolling across ground that was as pockmarked and potholed as any New York City street. I once again went as far a I could along the rugged jeep trail before finally abandoning my vehicle. This time I opted to take two bottles of water, instead of just one, as I struck out on my own.
Even at this time of day, Ka’ena Point was hot as hell. But then, I suppose it only made sense considering that ka’ena was Hawaiian for “the heat.”
The sun hung low, a molten ball of flame, as though suspended from the heavens by a string. I glanced to my left where Jesus rays hovered above the Waianae range, their halo of light transforming the verdant pali into a strand of ghostly mountains. The sight was so intensely beautiful that I had to force myself to look away, fearing it might prove to be taboo and I’d be turned into a pillar of salt.
Instead, my gaze fell upon hundreds of pale orange ilima blossoms that covered the ground. They could have been mistaken for crepe-paper leis, so tightly were they threaded together. I sidestepped them and hurried on, passing a few roving albatross along the way. The birds flew out to sea and then swooped back over the dunes, as if in search of one last snack before settling down for the night.
The large coral rock eventually came into view. It must have been gathering the sun’s rays all day, for it practically pulsated and glowed in the last of the light. It was almost as if the rock contained magnetic powers, so strongly was I drawn to it. I didn’t question the sensation, but pulled myself onto the boulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sammy in the distance. However, he was nowhere in sight.
I worried at first that Kalahiki might have changed his mind. For all I knew, he’d received another threatening phone call and been frightened away. Perhaps he was trying to contact me even now. Then again, he’d also been late for our first meeting. I probably should have realized that the guy operated on a different clock—one that kept Hawaiian time.
It was something I’d been warned about by other mainlanders who resided here. There’s simply no structure to things. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the temperature is always the same, as if regulated on a hidden thermostat. It probably helped explain the origins of a favorite Hawaiian expression: “whateveh.” You set your watch back five hours and two hundred years. Then you’re pretty much running on the same type of schedule.
With that in mind, I turned my attention to the sunset and the Waianae coastline.
The winter waves were notorious for being larger here than anywhere else on
the island. I relaxed and watched the display as they angled in from both sides of the point. They swept across a chain of rocks, gathering strength along the way. It was as if a giant hand had slapped the water hard, so that the waves kicked up plumes of mist. They hung in the air before slowly dispersing, their long wisps the phantom tails of mythological creatures galloping out across the sea.
I leaned back and basked in the last bit of light as the water turned liquid gold, stretching against a cloudless horizon. But what literally took my breath away was a flash of green so bright that I wondered if there’d been an explosion. It lasted just a brief moment before the seething sun puddled and oozed into the ocean. However, I was greedy for more and not yet ready to let it escape. I quickly scrambled to my feet and stood on top of the rock, determined to follow its course. It didn’t matter that it was already too late. I stubbornly refused to give up.
I continued to scan the water with my binoculars, hoping to catch a glimpse of a whale, a monk seal, or a spinner dolphin, anything that would fuel my interest as I waited for Kalahiki to arrive. My wish seemed to be granted as I caught sight of something fluttering in among the rocks. I leaned forward as far as I could without falling off. But I still wasn’t able to see directly below into the water. I solved that problem by jumping from my perch and standing along the cliff’s edge to get a better view.
All I could see at first were the waves relentlessly pounding layers of hardened lava. I continued to stare at the landscape of rocks, adjusting my gaze until I finally found what I’d been searching for.
That was when a creature, cold and clammy, slithered beneath my skin and wouldn’t go away.
Pinned under a jagged boulder was a shape that slowly mutated into an arm. Its hand moved back and forth in the current’s frothy spittle, as if frantically waving to say, “Help me. I’m here.” A dying ray of light skipped from finger to finger, as if in a child’s game of hopscotch, its dwindling beam caressing the waterlogged flesh.
It was then I spied a glint reflecting off one of the digits. I crept to the tip of the cliff and adjusted my binoculars, hoping to get a closer look. A smooth blue stone burned with a life all its own, encompassing a six-pointed star beneath the surface.
Superstition has it that the gem brings peace, happiness, and purity of soul to those who wear it. But as with most fairy tales, that simply wasn’t true. Rather, the bearer’s life had been filled with mistrust, broken promises, and disillusionment. The fire within the star sapphire ring slowly began to diminish until it finally disappeared.
Paradise had once again proven to be elusive for those living within its purlieu. And along with that came the realization as to why my contact was so late. Sammy Kalahiki had been there all along. He lay floating below, dead in the restless water.
Twelve
I pulled out my cell phone and called the police.
“Ka’ena Point? Terrific. The guy couldn’t have picked an easier spot?” grumbled the voice on the other end.
“Yeah, it was pretty inconsiderate. But then he probably wasn’t thinking about your convenience at the time,” I snapped.
My bitchy remark was met by a moment of stony silence.
“Stay where you are and don’t leave the scene,” the desk duty officer instructed icily.
“Don’t worry. I know the drill. By the way, how soon do you think someone will arrive? I’m an agent with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service,” I informed him.
Maybe that wasn’t such a smart move on my part.
“Why? What’s the problem? Are all the animals out rioting tonight and you’ve gotta rush back to work?” he sarcastically responded. “Cool your heels. We’ll get there when we get there.”
He hadn’t been kidding. I stood at the edge of the cliff and waited for what seemed like hours. If nothing else, it gave me plenty of time to think.
The hand continued to wave, though not so urgently now. It was almost as if Sammy knew he had been found. Still, what was he trying to tell me?
I turned my head, not wanting to stare at the disjointed arm. However, Kalahiki refused to let me look away for too long. Having no choice, I tried as best I could to disassociate myself from the limb. An arm is an arm is an arm. This one just happened to belong to my latest informant.
I wondered when Kalahiki had arrived. Sammy must have been anxious about our meeting tonight. Otherwise, why would he have shown up so much earlier than expected? There was that, along with Pryor’s blatant warning. Combine the two and I was left with a feeling of unease.
Kalahiki had grown up in these parts and probably knew every rock and stone. Had he become so cocksure as to have misread his surroundings and accidentally plummeted to his death? Every instinct within me refused to believe so.
Besides, this place was like an echo chamber, with nothing but albatross around. I’d certainly have heard a scream or the clatter of rocks during my walk to the point. On the other hand, if a fight had ensued, I would have heard that also. My skin was cold to the touch, even though the evening air was humid and warm.
I needed to kill time until the police arrived. Especially if I hoped to keep my sanity. With that in mind, I decided to do what I love best: snoop about while carrying out my own mini-investigation. Flicking on my flashlight, I proceeded to carefully search the area. No litterbugs here. In fact, there wasn’t a damn thing on the ground that could have been deemed the least bit suspicious.
Having no luck, I stood on the brink of the cliff and felt the pull of the rocks below. Had Sammy become so despondent about events that, rather than resist the tug, he’d finally given in to temptation? Once again, gut instinct told me no.
“Rachel!”
I whirled around, expecting to find the police behind me, but no one was there. My flesh turned to chicken skin and my body became icy cold.
“Rachel!” the call again pierced the night.
I could scarcely breathe, having realized that the cry wasn’t coming from behind, but was carried on the waves like a ghostly song. My God! Could it be that Sammy was still alive? My heart raced double time as I dashed to the edge and flashed my light on the rocks below.
“Sammy? Are you there?” I called out.
But there wasn’t a sound. Rather, the disembodied hand giddily mocked me by waving hello. I hastily retreated to my perch of stone as the night ominously closed in around me.
Every shadow, every rustle came to life, magnified a hundredfold. My nerves nearly reached their breaking point as fear planted itself deep, spreading its tentacles throughout my entire being. That was when a noise sprang to life and echoed in the night, turning the darkness into a living, breathing creature.
I jumped as a stone unexpectedly fell into what sounded like a bottomless well. That was followed by the clatter of another stone, and then another. Something was scrambling up the rocks, as if pulling itself from the bowels of a watery death. The clawing echoed in my head until my stomach was reeling.
“Sammy, is that you?” I weakly called.
But the only response was fractured, disjointed breathing.
The flashlight shook between my trembling hands, not knowing what it would find: the mutilated figure of a man or an angry wraith in the night.
I remained where I was as if paralyzed, until the murmur of distant voices broke the spell.
“Over here!” I screamed out, not knowing if they were friend or foe, or really caring. All that mattered was that they were flesh-and-blood human beings.
I stared into the darkness, finally spotting a procession of lights like a dislocated band of fireflies. There were four in all, each of which continued to grow in size. I urgently blinked my flashlight to the beat of the song playing inside my head, the Rolling Stones’ diabolic tune “Sympathy for the Devil.”
A cluster of bodies emerged from the night, their movements as tenuous as that of a spider picking its way across rough terrain without any sight. The forms gradually crystallized into a responding officer with three morgue techni
cians bringing up the rear. It immediately became clear that the trio in back had been hired for their muscle rather than brains. I could already hear them snickering about what kind of moron would come all the way out to Ka’ena Point just to fall off a cliff. As for the officer, he looked more annoyed than anything else. No matter. I was relieved to no longer be alone.
“Officer Eddie Fong,” he said upon finally reaching me.
The man was slightly built, with sparse dark hair and a pair of sleep-deprived eyes. Deep lines tugged at the corners of his mouth like a couple of tiny anchors.
“I’m Special Agent Rachel Porter. The body’s down there,” I informed him, pointing toward the spot. “I found Sammy Kalahiki right around sunset.”
“Hey, Officer Fong. You wanna go down first and check out the scene before we haul him up?” one of the technicians asked.
“What for? I can already see everything I need to right here. Besides, why would I want to get my uniform wet?” Fong dryly retorted and then began to move his flashlight around.
Its beam came to rest near where Sammy had apparently gone over.
“So this is where you think the accident happened, huh?” Fong asked, in a tone of nonchalance verging on boredom.
“I believe so. If it really was an accident,” I replied, always curious as to how someone else carried out an investigation.
“What are you saying? That it might have been suicide?” he promptly followed up.
“No. Not at all,” I answered, feeling sure of my response.
“Okay then. You said you weren’t in the area at the time. Is that correct?” Fong inquired, proceeding on with the interview.
“Yes. I didn’t get here until afterward. I spotted the body while waiting for him to arrive,” I clarified.
“Then how can you be certain that this is the location where he fell?” Fong quickly countered.
Restless Waters Page 15
