Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella)

by Ty Hutchinson

  If the moon were bright that night, the intruder would have had to do the same to see inside. This would explain Darby’s being able to see this person before they saw him. Balagot also noticed the two cameras, but only because he knew they were installed. All in all, Darby and Izzy were well protected. All they needed to know was who they had to protect themselves from.

  There were no noticeable signs of an attempted break-in. The sand and grass that surrounded the house was useless for finding footprints, but the sharp-eyed PI did find a couple of cigarette butts and pocketed them.

  Balagot tried the door at the back of the house. The lock was solid. So was the door. Confident that he had given the perimeter of the cottage a thorough once over, he took a seat in one of the wicker chairs and waited for the couple to return, curious to know what the blond looked like in a bikini.

  Chapter 46

  My shoulders grew tighter and the burn deepened with each paddle. Izzy and I were running late and paddling as fast as we could to get back to shore. She had already pulled ahead of me by about three board lengths. She had giant strokes that propelled her through the water like a piece of ice sliding on a tiled floor. I, on the other hand, looked like a baby splashing around in two inches of water. I moved at the speed of a crawl. Izzy probably wasn’t even winded. Genetics was my answer to that.

  By the time she reached the shore, I had fallen behind by a few minutes worth of paddling. It was embarrassing that I couldn’t keep up with my girlfriend. She stood on the beach next to her board. Her hand was an awning over her eyes as she rested her weight on one leg, shifting her hip off to the side. She looked good, even from a distance. She was wearing a black and yellow two-piece. It made paddling behind her worth it. The bottom wasn’t a thong but it sure as hell acted like one.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said dragging my board from the water.

  “No worries. The sun is nice and warm.”

  We were about ten feet from the cottage when I notice the PI sitting in the chair. I had hoped we would have returned before he got there. As we got closer, I could see that his head was tilted back and his mouth hung open. I nudged Izzy and motioned with my head.

  “Is he sleeping?” she asked.

  I chuckled. “Looks like it.”

  I stomped my feet a bit as I stepped up onto the lanai, hoping the investigator would wake up. He did. He startled for a second and then opened his eyes.

  “Hello, Darby. I hope you don’t mind me enjoying the view. It’s a very beautiful place you have here.”

  View? More like the back of your eyelids. “No, not at all. Sorry we weren’t here to greet you. The surf was too tempting to turn down.”

  The PI suddenly sat up and craned his neck to get a look at Izzy. She was rinsing off under the outdoor shower. She waved at the poor guy.

  About a half hour later, Izzy and I had showered and changed and we were all sitting around the table drinking coffee.

  Balagot took control of the conversation as soon as we settled. “Guys, first things first. Great security. Plenty enough to keep someone out.”

  “Good to know.” I cupped my mug and let my hands warm.

  “But that’s not why you hired me, yeah? You want me to find out who is coming around the place. This person broke in once, but that’s it. No more, not with the security.”

  So far he had a grasp of the situation, but Balagot hadn’t said anything that sounded like I was getting my money’s worth.

  “This is an investigation case. What I want to do is gather as much information as I can from talking to people. Kalani is first on my list.”

  “You’re going to talk to him? Wouldn’t that give it away that we think it’s him?”

  “Yes. Maybe that’s all it takes for him to stop.” Balagot took out a small pad and pen while he filled us in on Kalani’s rap sheet.

  I was the first to speak. “So this guy has been a troublemaker since he was a kid?”

  The PI nodded. “Usually they don’t stop. The crimes only escalate.”

  “But you said he’s been clean the last three years,” Izzy added.

  He laughed. “That means he hasn’t been caught.” He tilted his mug back and finished the rest of his coffee.

  “Would you like more coffee?” Izzy asked as she grabbed his cup. Balagot nodded. He didn’t need to smile—he hadn’t stopped since we woke him. What kind of person has a permanent smile on his face? I told Balagot about all the surf spots that I knew Kalani could be at and described his truck. I didn’t know where he lived.

  Balagot wrote it all down. Must be some sort of shorthand, because I couldn’t decipher any of it.

  “This Moku guy, where can I find him?”

  “Oh, yeah, Braddah Moku. He’s the bouncer at Kolohe’s. It’s a bar right off the main highway, about a mile away.”

  Balagot stopped writing and looked up at me. “East or west?”

  Izzy beat me to it. “It’s east of us.”

  “Anybody else around here I should talk to? Someone who knows the area and the people well?”

  Izzy shrugged her shoulders. “What about Momi?” she said, looking at me.

  Balagot looked back and forth between us, not sure if we were discussing this or telling him, but he started writing her name down anyway.

  “She’s a close friend of ours and seems to know most of the people around here,” I said. “Her last name is Kapalama. She might know where Kalani lives.”

  Izzy gave him the directions to her house and the market/restaurant.

  He then tucked the notepad and pen into his front shirt pocket and stood up. “Okay, I have enough information to get started.”

  I walked him to the front door. “When do you think you’ll know something?”

  The happy-go-lucky investigator stopped and bit his bottom lip. “Eh, hard to tell. Depends what kind of information I get and where it leads me.”

  Made sense. I guess the guy needs time to do his job. I was anxious, considering I had to fly back to San Francisco soon for my monthly status meeting. I wasn’t thrilled about leaving Izzy alone again.

  Chapter 47

  Taking a seat inside the silver Mazda was like opening a hot oven and curling up inside. Balagot grumbled as he quickly got the car onto the road and moving. With his air conditioning on the fritz, he rolled down both front windows and settled for free conditioner.

  Most of the day was still available, so he decided to hit up Momi Kapalama first since her home and work were both nearby. It took five minutes to get to the house—not long enough to cool the car down. This time Balagot didn’t bother rolling up the windows when he got out.

  Momi’s house appeared larger than most of the other old wooden houses in the area. It was apparent that some work had been done to keep it up. Fresh paint and a maintained yard worked miracles. There were no cars in the garage, though Balagot noticed a heavy bag in the corner. It brought back memories of his youth in the Philippines, when he was an amateur boxer. He had even thought of making a career of it, but marriage at a young age deterred him. Balagot mimicked a combination move in front of the bag before heading to the front door.

  He knocked and waited. It didn’t appear that anyone was home. He knocked once more and peered through the windows. No movement that he could see.

  A few minutes later he arrived at Luau’s. While it was tempting to get something to eat right away, he knew it would be better to find Momi while she was still fresh in his mind.

  A ding-dong bell rang out as he entered the store. There were two people in line waiting to pay. Balagot couldn’t quite see the woman running the register but assumed it was Momi. He grabbed a soda from the refrigerated section and stood behind a woman with a little kid. The kid was barefoot, wore black shorts, and wasn’t wearing a shirt. His face was dirty. So were his hands, including the one holding a half-eaten mango. Balagot took a step back.

  A couple of transactions later and Balagot found himself face to face with a straight-fac
ed brunette.

  He flashed his smile. “Hi, my name is Rudi Balagot.” He placed a business card on the counter along with a dollar for his soda. “I’m a private investigator.”

  Momi picked up the card and read the information on the front.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  Momi looked behind the investigator only to find an empty store. Balagot’s eyes followed hers. He turned back, still smiling. “Now seems like a good time, yeah?”

  “Let’s talk outside,” she said.

  Momi sat on a wooden bench just outside to door. Balagot took a seat next to her and took out his notepad and pen and wrote down ‘Momi’ with the date next to it.

  “You are Momi Kapalama, yeah?”

  “Yes,” Momi said, her eyes still untrusting.

  “You know Darby and Izzy?”

  Finally, a sign of life, Balagot thought as she smiled.

  “Of course. We’re friends. Did something happen to them?”

  “No, they’re fine. They hired me to find out who is trespassing on their property.”

  “Yes, Izzy told me all about it,” she said.

  “Good. So you understand the situation.”

  “What’s to understand?” Momi asked, rubbing her nose. “Some punk tried to rob them.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, why else would someone break into a stranger’s house? They’re tourist, so I’m sure they were seen as easy targets.”

  “Any of these punks have a name?”

  “I think I remember Izzy mentioning something about this kid… Well, he’s not a kid anymore but you know what I mean.”

  Balagot smiled.

  “Anyway, his name is Kalani.”

  “Can you tell me anything about him? Friends? Where he hangs out or lives?”

  Momi crossed her legs and rested an arm on her knees as she collected five or six cigarette butts from the asphalt and tossed them into a nearby garbage can. “He’s with the Black & Blue. Was always a troublemaker since he was a small kid.” Momi rolled her eyes. “Always getting into it, small stuff at first. I caught him shoplifting from my store a few times, that brat. Anyway, he eventually started stealing from tourists.”

  “Muggings?” Balagot asked, cocking his head back.

  “I heard he was breaking into rental cars and taking the belongings, but I wouldn’t put it pass him to mug someone.”

  “Is that it?” Even though Balagot knew Kalani’s activities had escalated to a stint in juvie, he wasn’t about to divulge that. This was an opportunity to see if Momi was withholding anything—not that he thought she was so far.

  “Pretty much until he got busted. He had to spend time in one of those eighteen and under places—”

  “Juvenile hall.”

  “Yeah, that’s the place.” Momi pulled her hair back and twisted it into a bun on top of her head. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’ve been trying to keep an eye out for them. I live within walking distance from their place.”

  “Oh, like a Neighborhood Watch thing?”

  Momi dismissed that with a quick shake of her head. “Just checking in on them every now and then. I like Izzy. We’ve become close.”

  “Do you know where Kalani lives?”

  Momi wasn’t completely sure but gave him directions to where he might be living.

  Balagot didn’t think there was anything else worth squeezing out of her. So far, Momi was a dead end for information, and if someone didn’t start spilling details soon, he could see the case going cold. The truth was, it was exactly what Momi thought it was—an attempted robbery and nothing more. Whoever it was hadn’t returned and they might have given up. But as far as Balagot could figure, Kalani had motive and was the key.

  He thanked Momi for her time and headed over to the diner to order a cheeseburger and fries to go. Even though he still had a good part of the day left, he knew he wouldn’t be home for dinner. Bouncers don’t clock in during the day. He could postpone his meeting with Braddah Moku or get it over with.

  The sooner the better he thought as he called his wife with the bad news.

  Chapter 48

  Let’s go surfing now.

  One by one Balagot crossed off the list of surf spots that Darby had given him. He had visited four locations so far—two were left. Things weren’t looking good on the surf front. But a gambling man keeps on betting, so he continued east. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Balagot wished he had Imelda and the kids with him, the two young ones playing in the surf, he and Imelda relaxing in chairs. It was a perfect day to spend at the beach.

  The next spot on his list was Log Cabins. Balagot had never heard of it, but according to Darby it was just past Shark’s Cove. As he was coming up on the cove, he spotted the black truck Darby described. Putting everything on black had paid off.

  Balagot pulled over to the side of the road and parked. The actual surf spot, according to the directions, was farther down, but Kalani had to eventually come back to his truck. After an hour of waiting, the investigator reclined and got comfortable. Surveillance was part of the job, something he always thought he handled pretty well. A lot of guys get nutso sitting in one place for so long. Not Balagot, he always had the patience for it. Within a few seconds, he was asleep.

  • • •

  Balagot popped up out of his seat like a kernel of corn auditioning for Orville Redenbacher. Sweat streamed down his face and hot air massaged his nostrils as he tried to remember his whereabouts. It took him a few seconds to get oriented and realize he had screwed up. His right arm was still slightly numb from being wedged between the two front seats. How long have I been sleeping?

  Even with a window rolled down, his skin stuck to the cheap upholstery. He quickly rolled the other one down. One could literally hear the suck of hot escape the vehicle. The trade winds moved throughout the car cooling him off. He looked over to where Kalani’s truck had been parked. It was gone.

  Pissed at himself, he looked at his watch. It was a little after three in the afternoon. He had been asleep for about an hour. Balagot always figured himself for a light sleeper and blamed the mishap on the fact that he had one window rolled up. Somehow, if they were both down, he would have known Kalani had returned to his truck.

  Still wanting to talk to Braddah Moku later that night, Balagot had no intention of calling it a day. He sat there for a moment, wondering what to do. What do locals do after they finish surfing? They eat. Which way though?

  Heading further east might pull up a local joint, but he did remember seeing a sign for McDonalds back in Haleiwa. According to Momi, Kalani lived near Sunset Beach, which was farther east. Kalani didn’t sound like the type to keep a fridge full of food at home. Balagot did a U-turn and headed back toward Haleiwa. He was gambling that Kalani needed a McBreak.

  • • •

  Score!

  A twenty-minute drive put Balagot into the parking lot of the golden arches and back in connection with Kalani. He pulled into the open spot right next to the black truck just as his prime suspect was exiting the restaurant and lighting up. By the time Balagot got out of his car, Kalani was opening the door to his truck. Balagot took a chance and tried the passenger door. It opened and he climbed inside.

  The kid was halfway inside his truck when Balagot plopped down into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

  “Whoa, fuck. What the hell?” Kalani stepped back out of his vehicle, cigarette falling from his mouth. “What you think you doing, old man?”

  Balagot quickly pulled out a business card and placed it on the driver’s seat. “Sorry to barge in. My name is Rudi Balagot. I’m a private investigator. May I ask you a couple of questions?” he asked, flashing his trademark grin.

  Kalani stood there, staring at the investigator and then at the card. He picked it up and studied it for a minute before responding. “Eh, I no gotta talk to you about shit.”

  “You’re right, but if you do talk
to me now, I won’t have to surprise you again, yeah?” Balagot’s smile got smaller and so did his voice. “Now, get in the fucking truck,” he growled.

  The other side of Rudi Balagot had just shown its face; the side that was dark and cold, without emotion; the side that made him good at his job; the side that would split a person’s head open and laugh about it later. A few of his fellow officers had witnessed that side. They’ve seen him take a man down to the ground with such force that the impact nearly killed him. None of them wanted to know what would happen if he were pushed to the edge.

  The beast that lived inside of Balagot was his anger.

  He learned early in life that he needed to control it and not let it control him. Meditation helped him relax and let go of negativity before it could build upon itself. Balagot was only human though. He could only take so much before his patience was tried and lost. It was then that his anger would get the better of him—the anger that made Rudi Balagot as dangerous as the criminal he faced. While Kalani had not pushed his anger to the edge, he had irritated him—a dangerous place to be.

  Kalani got into the truck and closed the door, his eyes never leaving those of the investigator. Balagot’s smile widened and his jaw relaxed. He took out his notepad and pen “Now Kalani, tell me how you know Mr. Darby Stansfield and Miss Izzy Weber?”

  “They the ones who sent you after me?”

  “I’m investigating a series of trespasses and break-ins that happened at their place.”

  “Wasn’t me. I never do shit.”

  “But you don’t like them.”

  “So?”

  “I’m told you confronted Darby at the Bank of Hawaii in Haleiwa and told him…” Balagot flipped through his pad. “You told him, ‘Get the fuck out of here. Go back home haole.’ More or less, was that the threat you made against Mr. Stansfield?”