Michael looked at me for a long moment. “All right, then. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
THE SUN WAS going down in a glorious, painted-velvet kind of a sunset when we cast off from the Waikiki Yacht Club. The crew for Four Guys on the Edge was a full one, since Karen had insisted on joining Michael, Kurt and Parker. Eric and Jody Levine had already flown home, or they would have probably helped.
“I can’t believe I’m supposed to fit in this,” I said, as I tried to pull a snug wetsuit top and shorts on, inside the boat’s cabin. Despite the warmth of the ocean, I had to wear the wetsuit, because it was the only way to both conceal and keep dry the tape-recording equipment Michael had bought.
“Vaseline helps,” said Michael, who was just wearing swim trunks and a polo shirt. It was very nice being rubbed down—in fact, I wished that the experience would lead to something other than a night sail across roiling seas to an unwelcoming place. But, as Michael had said to Tom, our detective friends from the Kapolei Police Department wouldn’t want to jump off to an unrelated mission at the same time they were booking Gerald Liang. Time was short, and we would have to act for ourselves.
The trip to Kainani was about twenty nautical miles, and with the winds as high as they were, the ride could be swift. The plan was to drop anchor several hundred feet down the beach from the Kikuchi mansion, and use a dinghy to get to shore. Kurt, Michael and I would use a walkie-talkie to stay in touch with Parker and Karen, who would stay on the boat and help us up when we returned with the dinghy.
I’d expected to be given a job on the boat, but I was advised to sit in the cockpit as Michael and the three others carefully guided Four Guys on the Edge out to sea. I’d thought the slow departure from the yacht club harbor would be the easy part, but there were so many obstacles to watch for—dozens of bobbing boats tied up on either side of the narrow channel as we were leaving, and moving boats either returning to the club or making their way out.
Once we were free of heavy boat traffic and sailing leeward, everyone relaxed, except for me. The boat pitched and dove in the choppy Pacific, and incomprehensible instructions flew back and forth between Michael and his friends.
“Did anyone check the forecast?” I asked when there was a lull in the shouting.
“Of course,” said Karen kindly. “It’s a beautiful night and we’ve got good sailing winds. No storms on the horizon.”
“Actually, it feels kind of stormy to me.” The winds were so strong, I would have considered it the best idea of all to abort the mission and return to Waikiki.
“Rei, you can stay aboard with Parker and me if you’re nervous about anything.”
“I’m not nervous.” I gulped, because in the last few minutes, my seasickness had started.
“Karen’s right. You can bail if you want,” Michael added.
“You mean bail right now?” Some water had sloshed over the side of the boat nearest me.
“Don’t worry about that!” Michael chuckled. “It’s all part of the experience. But if you’re not feeling well, go below deck for a little bit.”
“There is a bathroom there, right?” I asked as I half-crawled toward the stairs.
“It’s just a head. And don’t throw up in it, OK?” Kurt said.
I started down the steep staircase just as the boat pitched and I fell forward on my hands and knees and face.
“That’s the other thing,” Kurt called after me, laughing. “Always take the ladder backwards.”
AS I DABBED my scraped face with antiseptic from a first-aid kit Michael brought me, I thought to myself, if there was one person we didn’t need along, it was Kurt. But Michael had insisted and I’d remembered how in Japan, he always liked to have back up in case things became dangerous.
The cabin was tastefully fitted in teak and brass, and there was even a neatly made bunk where I could lie. But the air was hot and stagnant, and after ten minutes below, I felt the need for air. I climbed the ladder, facing the right way this time, and emerged just as the boat swung to one side, nearly shooting me across the deck. But I kept my balance this time and crept back to the cockpit, gulping the salt air.
AS WE APPROACHED Barbers Point, the winds changed and almost seemed to swirl in circles. Kurt and Michael were furiously working to release lines from cleats, and Parker was shouting from the helm while Karen cranked the winch. All I could think about was how much longer would it be to Kainani—and whether I’d make it without being sick.
I realized after a few minutes that Michael was calling for me to join him. “Is this the house, Rei?”
I crawled over, took Kurt’s night-vision binoculars, and started to rise. Michael put his arm around me to help steady me, and slowly I took in what I’d never seen before: the resort from the water. Here was the twenty-story Kainani Cove Inn, the row of wedding chapels, and the time-share tower. And there, past a heavy border of volcanic rocks and shrubbery, was the white Kikuchi mansion, with a few lights on.
Karen dropped anchor at a spot that seemed to me was quite far from shore, although Kurt opined that the position was too close. Michael said firmly, ‘It’s perfect.” Then to me, ‘One last chance to decide what you’re doing, Rei. I won’t love you any less if you decide to stay aboard, but once we’re in the water, there’s no going back.”
“You can’t do it without me,” I said. “Let’s go.”
The crash of the dinghy dropping into the water cut through the sound of the wild winds. Michael and Kurt dropped in first; I handed down a waterproof box containing the walkie-talkie and other supplies, which Michael strapped to himself in a waterproof equipment belt. At last, I climbed down a small ladder on the side of the sailboat and joined them.
I’d never been this far out in an ocean before, and certainly, never been tossed about on such waves. As Michael and Kurt rowed, I recalled the sharks in Gerald Liang’s gate design. If we capsized, my lifejacket could save me from going under, but not from sharks.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” I shouted to Michael. “What exactly are you planning to do to Calvin, as I’m getting his confession on tape?”
“It depends on how much he cooperates!” Michael leaned in so I could hear him over the wind and waves. “I should ask what you’re going to say.”
“I could tell him that I was bodysurfing at the hotel beach and got pushed along his way by the current.”
“It’s pretty dark to be bodysurfing.”
“Oh. Maybe I was washed up along that horrible pile of rocks earlier, and was trying to find my way across them, and his house was closer than the rest of the resort?”
“Now you’re talking…What is it, Kurt?”
On the other end of the dinghy, Kurt was shouting something about rocks.
“We don’t want to hit the rocks, so we’re going to drop anchor here,” Michael translated. “We’re going to have to swim or wade in the rest of the way.”
“No way!” To me, it looked like we were at least three hundred feet from the shore. It was going to be a challenge for me to get in, given the darkness and size of the waves, and I wasn’t sure how we were going to get out, either.
Michael leaned over to kiss me, and spoke in my ear. “Look how close the lights of the house are now. You can hang on to the strap of my lifejacket, if things get rough.”
After the rowboat was secured, Kurt slipped into the water and started walking, using a series of hand signals to indicate to us where the rocks were. Michael and I followed, and I was grateful for the buoyancy the life vest gave me. The hardest thing was not swallowing water from the giant waves and their spray. Kurt reached the beach in what seemed like five minutes, while Michael and I continued to struggle.
“It looks as if Kurt’s started the reconnaissance,” Michael called out to me. “Notice how he’s creeping into shore—typical Navy Seal.”
I didn’t answer because a massive wave was building, starting to pull me into its undertow. I wouldn’t be able to fight it, but would i
t separate me from Michael?
I grabbed the strap on his life vest with both hands, and we were flung about like a toy, knocking against each other painfully.
“You’re pushing me down,” Michael said, when we came out of it. “Can you relax a little?”
“Yes, I’ll just pretend I’m in the Kainani pool,” I said as I loosened my hold. “Someone will be coming around with a low glycemic index mango smoothie for me any minute.”
“Make mine strawberry, with extra sugar.”
That made me laugh. “Michael, I’ve decided something.”
“Mmm?”
“If we make it in, and I recover from my injuries, I’ll definitely marry you.”
Michael didn’t answer, and suddenly, the wind was awfully loud. There was now a different feel to the water—not of power building behind, but something underneath. Michael finally spoke between hard breaths. “It’s a rip tide, and it’s going to move us. Just let me hold you.”
The water pushed us again, and when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t see Kurt on the beach anymore.
“Damn, I lost my belt. Did you see it?” Michael asked.
I shook my head.
“Well, at least we’ve got you.”
Michael’s hold seemed to be stronger, as if he were pulling me in on both sides of my body, not just my left. In confusion I looked to other side, and saw Kurt’s face.
“Need a hand?”
“Thanks,” said Michael shortly, loosening his hold of me as the new, massive arms encircled me.
“Took me a while to catch up with you, but I saw where the current was heading,” Kurt said. As he powered me to shore, I relaxed in relief, unable to do anything but breathe.
“What the hell happened here? Mikey forgot how to swim?” Kurt asked as the shore grew closer.
“Kurt, give us a hand getting Rei to shore. I’ve got to find my belt, which ripped off in the waves.”
As Michael searched the water, I lay on the beach, catching my breath. It was dark, and there seemed to be only giant globs of seaweed and a discarded potato-chips bag nearby. The prospect of abandoning the mission, because we’d lost our equipment, seemed almost tempting. But then I thought about what Calvin had done to my father and me, and knew, as Michael had said, there could be no going back.
“THAT WAS CLOSE,” Michael said to Kurt, when he finally swam back in, nothing in hand. “Thanks a lot.”
“Yes, thank you,” I echoed.
Kurt shrugged his hulking shoulders. “You two could have made it, but I was getting bored just hanging by myself.”
“I can’t believe I lost my belt.” Michael sounded grim. Now Karen and Parker won’t know what’s going on.”
“Do you want me to look for it?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t think there’s any point. We can get him on tape; all that equipment’s inside Rei’s wetsuit.”
“Yes, I’m wearing everything we really need. I think we should just get it over with,” I said in a voice that was braver than I felt.
“Remember, I don’t want you going inside the house. It’s important for your safety,” Michael said.
“OK. But I’ll have to connect with Calvin, and that could mean knocking on the door, stepping in the kitchen for a moment—”
“Enough chatter,” Kurt said. “When I was checking the house out, I saw an Asian guy through the downstairs windows, in a huge room—I guess you could call it a home theater, or entertainment center. I’d like one just like it, only there’s the problem of my military salary.”
“So Calvin really was planning to listen to music.” I told them what Tom had told me.
“I don’t know if there’s music on because the windows were closed. All I can tell you is he was dancing like a fool,” Kurt said. “Check out that second-floor balcony. Beautiful entry point.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Ordinarily, Kurt, I’d say have fun, but there is no need for a home invasion. Calvin will answer the door when Rei calls on him, and we’ll just back her up as needed.”
Kurt looked ticked off, so I smiled at him and said, “There are jobs for everyone. Michael, will you please help me turn on the recorder inside my wetsuit? When that’s fixed, Kurt can give us a tour around the house and explain what else he noticed. We’ll go from there.”
KURT HAD SPOTTED a lot of interesting details, including which windows were locked and where the house alarms were, but he’d missed one crucial detail, which I was to discover myself: the front door had no buzzer, bell or knocker. I knocked, and there was no response. I realized that probably nobody ever came to the front door, because all visitors would use the buzzer at the gate.
I silently rehearsed my cover story about the body surfing, and thought about what I’d do if I’d washed up at a house like this and felt desperate. I trekked around the house, heading for the big ground-floor lanai, a tropical fantasy veranda with its own pool and an elegant bar. Beyond that were ground-to-ceiling sliding glass doors leading to the entertainment room, lit up to reveal a massive flat screen television playing VH1 and low chairs upholstered in what looked like black velvet. On the wall, I spotted a few Haruki Murukami paintings. The object of my pursuit, Calvin Morita, was not in there.
I continued around the house and finally saw him illuminated through the window of a stainless steel and marble luxury kitchen. Calvin was mixing himself a cocktail, with blue and yellow liquids. I rapped on the door here, which had a glass window, and called his name. Clearly startled at first, he identified me, smiled, and moved toward the kitchen door.
“Rei! This is a quite a surprise.” He opened the door wide, and stepped back to allow me entrance.
“For me, too.” I was breathing audibly, because I was nervous; I hoped he took that as a sign that I’d just come out of the water. “I was body surfing around sunset, and the waves carried me right past the hotel beach. I started climbing my way back to land over the rocks, but it got so dark I didn’t know if I’d make it…I hope you don’t mind me coming this way…”
“What were you doing exerting yourself so soon after hospitalization? By the way, have you heard from the health department yet?”
“No. I assume they’re operating on aloha time.”
“Well, I’ll take you back to your house right away. Let me get my keys.”
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go; I couldn’t leave Michael and Kurt on the beach, wondering.
“Actually, Calvin, could I have a drink first? I would love to sit out on that lanai and just have a glass of tap water.”
“Of course. I should have thought of that.” Calvin reached into a cabinet for a glass and filled it at a sink set into the kitchen island. I watched it unblinkingly; nothing was dropped in, so I took a sip. “But why are you out, anyway? Don’t you know your father’s in the hospital?”
I thought quickly. He could suspect that my father was poisoned, but he wouldn’t know for sure. “Yes, I took my father in hours ago, but he’s fine—just a migraine headache. The MRI didn’t indicate a stroke or anything like that. I got out of the house because he likes to lie in absolute dark and stillness; Tom is there with him, anyway.”
“Headaches can be a sign of trouble,” Calvin mused. “Maybe he’s got something else, a kind of influenza, perhaps.”
“I don’t know. How I wish you’d been here earlier, when we sent my cousins to look for you. You would have known exactly what to do.”
“This is a change of direction for you.” Calvin smiled at me, as if pleasantly surprised. “When we met, you wouldn’t give me the time of day!”
“Calvin…” I paused, trying to look humble. “I’m sorry that it took my father’s sudden illness and the fact that Tom and Uncle Hiroshi can’t always be there to realize how much we’ve all grown to depend on you. Ever since you’ve arrived, you’ve only wanted to help us. Why, you’re practically part of the family.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Are you sure you don’t want a real drink to take outside? O
ops, I just remembered that you shouldn’t. It’s not good for your recovery.”
I dropped my gaze, thinking how glad I was the recorder was on. He’d just given an indication he knew that what had poisoned me was a serious drug, rather than overgrown food bacteria. I needed more to get a warrant for his arrest, but if he was this loose already, and continuing to drink, our interview should be a snap.
Calvin stepped outdoors with a fresh drink for himself, and we retreated to the ocean-facing lanai.
“I just can’t get enough of the ocean,” I said, angling myself so I was facing the direction away from the part of shoreline where Michael and Kurt were presumably hiding.
“Yes, I know what you mean,” he said, following my gaze. “That’s why, despite the unrelenting hours, I’m still with the Kikuchis after three years. The whole environment here is just so gorgeous that I really enjoy times like these all the more.”
“The stone underfoot is really nice,” I said. “Is it lava rock?”
Calvin glanced down, and must have caught a glimpse of more than the pavers, because he said, “Whoa! What happened to your feet?”
“I must have gotten cut on the rocks.” My alibi was solid, thanks to the fact that I really had suffered some cuts and scratches coming in from the ocean. I’d been too stressed to notice when it was actually happening.
“I’ll say. We need to go right back in and clean that. You might want to take a Vicodin for the pain. There’s a vial of it in Jiro’s bathroom.”
“I don’t take painkillers. I’m kind of a health nut that way.”
“But I noticed…yes, you are limping! You must at least clean the cuts and bandage them.”
“I’m really not that badly off,” I protested, thinking that perhaps my father really had been correct about Calvin having Munchausen’s-by-proxy.
“You’ve got to clean the cuts!” Calvin’s voice was rising, probably loud enough for Michael and Kurt to hear. And based on that, I made my decision.
Shimura Trouble Page 25
