Dead On Arrival (A Malia Fern Mystery)

by Kym Roberts

  “I told Windy to distract the guard. We were going to burn the Heiau down and get rid of it once and for all. You ruined it.”

  Rob took a long jump and jabbed at my chest, the knife came desperately close as I sucked in my stomach and did my own backwards leap. I stumbled and almost lost my footing. My misstep created a broad smile across Rob’s face.

  By now, we were well within view of the people gathering to watch the spectacle of Spouting Horn at sunset. They just needed to look a little to the left.

  Please. Look to the left.

  I found my voice. Breathless and airy, he strained to hear me over the pounding of the surf. “Why did you try to kill Peter’s wife?” I asked in between the crashing waves.

  “Apparently, your talk with Mrs. Johnson made her want to take a role in the venture after all. She called my brother immediately after you left, saying she didn’t want to sell and they should meet to discuss how to proceed. Again, you messed up my plans and I decided enough was enough. Everyone needed to go, so I called MD and he was going to take care of you and Mrs. Johnson.”

  “You were the one ordering all of the murders?” Despite it coming from his mouth, I still had a hard time believing it. It wasn’t Daven Raines ordering MD to kill people, it had been Rob Raines.

  Rob laughed. “You really are a funny girl. I’m going to miss you.”

  Help wasn’t coming. I could feel the surface of the lava change the farther we moved along the shelf. Flatter. Mossier. Wet. We were now in the fatally slippery area.

  Hua.

  I tried to negotiate. “Rob, you don’t have to do this. We can find another place.”

  “My brother took off running when you headed for the parking lot. Now, I have no doubt that he’s going to go to the cops and tell them I stole from his accounts, that I made this mess.” He laughed. An evil sound I’d never heard before and I wondered how I could misjudge someone for so long. “I guess I’ve been blaming the wrong people all along. I should have looked a little closer to home.” His eyes lost focus for a moment as he gazed out to the ocean.

  I took a tentative step toward the tourists above.

  His eyes shifted back. “I can’t let you go.”

  “But there are too many witnesses, you can’t get away with this.” I insisted, raising my hands in complete surrender.

  Rob was no longer laughing, he spit venom and hate toward me. “You were going to leave me, and then your snooping around screwed everything up.”

  “I was just trying to make some money on the side,” I tried to explain, but then I realized how much I sounded like the killer in front of me.

  Rob lunged for me and slipped at the same time. The blade struck the backside of my forearm. The arm I’d raised in submission.

  Asshole.

  I sucked in air and pulled my arm toward my chest, covering the wound with my hand. Blood oozed through my fingers. I couldn’t feel the pain, but the liquid warmth was enough warning. Enough to signal I couldn’t stay this close to Rob and I needed to make a run for it—across the lava shelf covered with green, slippery moss.

  Instantly, I thought about running to the crowd, but then nixed it. The hill would slow me down and he’d catch me from behind. I ran for the blowhole. Puhi was the most dangerous spot to go. I hoped Rob wouldn’t follow, or would be washed out to sea as waves crashed around us.

  He followed and the water tackled my ankles sending my heart rate soaring. The force swept my feet toward shore, wiping them out from beneath me. I slammed into the rock and felt every point of contact. Every spot that I knew would really hurt later…if I survived. I grabbed for anything but only came up with handfuls of loose lava rocks. The receding flow sucked my feet past my body toward the edge of the shelf. The edge of my life.

  I saw the end. Felt the waves pulling me over and knew if I ended up under the shelf, I’d never make it out.

  Frantic, I looked up, hoping to see…something. Anything. Anyone. One last grasp to end the finality. A grasp for life.

  He’s here. Peter whispered in my head.

  The water disappeared around me. The lava rock bit into my skin. Thankfully, I stopped my wild ride with my feet still on solid ground. I didn’t wait for the next wave. Scrambling up, I clawed my way from the edge of my existence. An anxious look toward Rob told me his jog in the park had been almost as difficult as mine. He pulled himself up off the ground and grabbed for his knife that was lodged in the rocks.

  I didn’t wait for him to catch up. I took off for the lava tube, not sure, where my plan was going from there. One step at a time. One wave at a time. One battle at a time.

  Finally, I reached Puhi. The ground shook around the hole in the lava shelf and rumbled in anger. Screamed at me for daring to step on sacred ground. I ran past and asked for forgiveness. Water struck my back like a fire hose knocking me down. Face down in a pool of water, the receding force began pulling me toward the lava tube. I sucked in salty liquid as I screamed. Sputtering, I inhaled more.

  Once again, I dangled on the rim and the water released its grip. I coughed and hacked. Spewed spit, snot and salt water from my nose and mouth. On my knees, I fought for strength. Felt Puhi’s anger building beneath me as Rob reached for me from the other side of the hole. He looked almost as bad as I felt.

  I crawled away from the lip with Rob stalking me, seeing the pot of gold at the end of his rainbow. He was determined to spill my blood. He lunged and grabbed my hair, pulled my head back for my final breath. I had no weapon this time. This was it.

  Puhi bellowed in outrage and struck Rob with such force that he slammed into me. His knife flew through the air. I last saw it bouncing across the shelf, tumbling with the rocks as a wave broke the surface. It was no longer a threat, but Rob and the surf were. We struggled with each other and the back pull of the retreating water. Rob slipped down my body. I kicked at his hands that were clawing my legs.

  His grabbing changed. No longer assaultive, but desperately clinging to my legs. I looked over my shoulder and screamed with fear. Rob hung at the precipice of Puhi, struggling to stop the suction. I kicked at him, and clawed at the ground, my own desperation reaching a new height, if that was even possible at this point.

  Rob went over the edge, his forearm the only thing visible as his hand clasped to my ankle. I was losing. Rob was going and he was taking me with him.

  A hand locked onto my elbow. I grasped at it. My fingers wrapping around the muscular forearm, and I looked up into a stranger’s eyes. A stranger I knew.

  The lizard lost its hold. Disappeared. Puhi hissed with satisfaction as Rob disappeared.

  You’re safe. Peter’s voice sounded almost as relieved as I felt.

  My savior quickly pulled me to my feet, his lean body manipulating mine with ease as he scooped me up and carried me across the shelf, away from death. Too soon we were approaching the Visitor’s Center with people whispering and pointing camera phones in our faces. The entire time, he cradled me in his arms, protecting me from everything and everyone.

  Spouting Horn had been the backdrop for my fight against nature. Fight against Rob. Fight against evil. And I’d won. Thanks to Puhi and the man who was carrying me.

  Phones followed our trek to a bench, where he sat down with me held tightly in his arms. I knew the videos would go viral, but I was too exhausted to care. Sirens blared. Blue and red lights swirled around the parking lot, but all of it was lost to me. It was time to sleep. I looked up in his eyes. His obsidian eyes with flecks of molten lava.

  Thank you, Liko.

  I think I shocked him. I’m not sure. Everything after that was gone. Gone to the dark mystical place in the recesses of my mind where Peter Johnson was smiling as he watched his wife sing to their baby boy.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  I woke up in the hospital with John, Pai and Makaio pow-wowing on the other side of the room. John looked like he was trying to establish dominance over the other two. Growling. Barking orders. Pai may as well have been
pissing all over my room, marking his territory. And Makaio, well, he just looked like dog shit. His face pale, he struggled not to show weakness. The leader of the pack would not back down.

  I’m not a conspiracy theorist. But those three? Together? Meant nothing but trouble for me.

  Pai turned around and smiled. “Aloha, Baby Doll.”

  Leave it to Pai to read my thoughts. Marking me.

  Don’t piss on me, Pai.

  His smile brightened.

  John started snapping orders. “I need to talk to Malia. Alone. This is official police business.”

  It went on deaf ears. Pai was already a step ahead of him. Somehow, so was Makaio. Pai made it to my left side and Makaio shuffled to my right, both looking down at me, and as usual, I was trapped between the two of them, being pulled in their tug-of-war contest. But this time I was the rope that was about to snap in the middle and hurt the men on both ends.

  “Where’s Liko?” I asked.

  That shut ‘em up. They all looked at me expectantly. Finally, John broke the silence. He had the least to lose, and the most to gain.

  “Who’s Liko?”

  “The guy who saved me from being sucked down Puhi.”

  It was Pai’s turn to question my story, citing Hawaiian history like none of the rest of us could. “Liko. As in the guy who led Mo‘o, the lizard under the lava shelf where the lizard got stuck in Spouting Horn while Liko escaped through the top? The Liko who trapped Mo’o forever to hiss and moan in hunger and pain.” One brow rose in humor, “That Liko?”

  I couldn’t help my sarcasm. “You of all people should not question who pulled me out.”

  “Our grandmother was there.” Makaio’s voice was soft. Almost defeated. “She said Liko disappeared into the crowd when the ambulance arrived and they put you on a gurney.”

  He searched my eyes, asking without voicing. He knew there was someone else making this triangle between the three of us even bigger. The rope he pulled with Pai was broken; the ends snapped everyone with the tension. His pain evident, I tried to reach out to him and explain, but I couldn’t.

  I needed to find Liko.

  He nodded his understanding. Accepted what fate had written and left unfinished. For him. For Pai. For Liko. And for me. We had to wait, ride the wave into the curl, through the turbulent tunnel and let the lip spit us out on the other side. Once we were clear of all the dangers and uncertainty, we could throw our hands in the air in triumph.

  Pai’s smile faded as well. I could sense his confusion. He didn’t understand how Makaio had known before him. That was the rope snapping at his end. He accepted fate graciously. His smile still present, just a little less bright.

  “Did you find my scooter?” I asked.

  John sensed his control returning and jumped on it. Opening the closet, he pulled my purse from the interior. “A uniform found it in the middle of the vendor booths. If you boys will excuse us, I need to talk to Malia.”

  Makaio nodded and kissed a part of my face not scraped up from my fight with Rob. He left the room without a backward glance, his shoulders a little stiff, but strong.

  I turned to Pai. “Did you get the pictures?”

  “What pictures?” John didn’t like being left in the dark.

  “This is for our business venture. It has nothing to do with your investigation, John.” I looked at Pai, waiting for a response.

  I got them.

  It was my turn to experience the tightening in my chest. The feeling of betrayal. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out an SD card. I accepted the card with the pictures of Windy’s naked body and curled it in the palm of my hand.

  I couldn’t hear his apology, I only felt it. Pai wasn’t letting me inside his head. No doubt, afraid I would see what happened from his perspective, and since I really didn’t want to see it, I appreciated him keeping the wall in place.

  He pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it, and then left without a word.

  I leaned back, closed my eyes and relaxed. Let John have the driver’s seat he wanted so badly. Somehow, I think he was disappointed that he’d won that easily. He’d always been a sucker for a competition. But he sat down, grabbed my hand and squeezed it before pulling out his recorder to take my statement.

  He never got started. The door burst open. My mom, with the rest of the family in tow, spilled into the room, everyone talking at once. Kisses rained on my cheeks, bringing tears to my eyes.

  For a moment on that lava rock, I thought I’d never see them again.

  My dad clasped my fingers, and I held back the wince of pain. It was too good, just to feel. To be alive.

  My two younger brothers, Kionni and Kale were actually grabbing my feet through the blankets. I’m pretty sure Kionni wiped a tear off his cheek, but I wouldn’t use it against him.

  John received a stern look from the real matriarch, who was in turn supported by my father, when John tried to protest about needing my statement. Police business could wait for family business. There was nothing better than ohana to cure the soul.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  It’s been over six weeks since I was released from the hospital. The first time I looked in a mirror, I wanted to cry. I didn’t think vanity was an issue for me, but I’d never experienced cuts all over my body, making me look more like a patchwork quilt than an actual person. My injuries were healing, and most of the cuts would mend without any long term scarring. A small cut on the bridge of my nose and the larger one on my arm were the exceptions. Rob’s knife attack required twenty-seven stitches in all. It still amazed me that I didn’t feel pain when he cut me. But I can assure you, since then I’ve done plenty of bitching about how much it hurt.

  My mom insisted I stay with them when I was released from the hospital. To be honest, there wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be. Kionni and Kale cleaned my apartment and fixed the door. John retrieved my scooter from police headquarters before it went to the impound lot. My brothers are pretty cool, for brothers.

  Rob’s body was never recovered. At first, I feared he somehow got out alive, and he was out there somewhere watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Then I thought about the lizard and Liko, and I knew there was no way in hell he survived. His body was trapped like Mo‘o to hiss and moan and complain for eternity.

  Daven Raines made a full confession. He suspected his brother was taking funds from his business accounts and tried to straighten him out with a spot for Aaron’s Surf Zone at The Garden of Gods. However, when he continued to steal from him, Daven changed the plans and nixed the booth. He wanted to avoid a confrontation with Rob, so he blamed Peter for the design changes and was relieved when Peter wanted to hire security. He suspected Rob was also stealing from the site and that he was behind most if not all the vandalism they experienced. Like I suspected, Daven started working at Aaron’s Surf Zone to relieve some of his guilt and help Rob get the business back on track, but Rob continued to squander money he didn’t have on fast living and a fancy car. His love for the beach had nothing to do with why he lived in a tent.

  When Peter disappeared, Daven lied to Misty because he was afraid his brother had something to do with his partner’s disappearance. His worst fears came true.

  Daven faced charges for conspiracy to commit murder after the fact. It turned out Daven wasn’t the Raines who hired Mutt or MD. That had been Rob Raines, MD’s buddy. Both Raines brothers who wore the mark of royalty on their bodies, turned out to be royal assholes. Rob, the bigger of the two.

  Jade and Joe came by my parent’s house at my request and I gave the SD card to Jade without viewing it. Her mom would study the tattoos and try to find a way to block the affects to protect other Menehune and their children from the Menehune curse. In the meantime, Joe was going to avoid the convenience store where Windy worked.

  As hard as he tried, John couldn’t get Windy charged. The prosecutor saw her as a victim since MD had threatened her. His real name was Michael Dickens, but he’d
always be Mad Dog to me.

  Mutt, or if his legal name means anything to you — Cory Bollinger — was charged with aggravated assault and conspiracy to commit murder. I don’t know if it will stick, but I plan to see it through. I don’t care if he does have an addiction. Something is wrong when you allow your inner demons to control your mind and body.

  I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Liko since the day he saved my life. That day, my vision of him cleared beyond the haze of dope and cowardice he tried to make everyone see. The man who pretended to be a dope smokin’ surfer, too chicken to catch the big waves, was changed forever in my eyes. I know Moa’s real name and I know his real character. Liko’s out there. I can feel him. It’s only a matter of time before our paths cross. The fates have destined it to happen, so it will.

  Misty Johnson decided to stay on Kaua’i with her son. She planned to finish the condos and move forward with the dream she created with her husband. I haven’t seen or heard Peter since that day at Spouting Horn. I’m pretty sure he’s finally at peace.

  Pai went back to the Big Island on business. The day I was released from the hospital, I got a text: ‘Leaving for the Big Island. Will be in touch soon. A hui hou Ki`i pēpē.’

  I haven’t talked to him since he left my hospital room. His kiss still lingers on my hand. I really think his leaving had more to do with Liko and the pictures of Windy, than with work.

  When I finally returned to my apartment, I had a new sofa sleeper that had an extra soft mattress and my bright orange bobble head helmet was sitting on my table. A tiara permanently attached to the top with ‘Princess’ painted on the back. A note lay underneath:

  Stay safe, Baby Doll.

  You will always be my Princess.

  Love, Pai

  I cried when I read it and tucked it away in my box of keepsakes, along with my treasured doll from my childhood. Always there, never forgotten.

  Pearl and I have made peace. Personally, I think she’s found herself another man, which was fine by me. Her insurance company came through with the check for my car. I miss my little MINI Cooper, although it surprises me to say that I enjoy riding the scooter quite a bit. Banking the cash for now, I’m taking my time with my decision on a new vehicle. The orange beast is a chapter of my life. A chapter that’s incomplete. With my princess helmet, I get quite a few looks and comments from the tourists. I guess now I’m the spot of humor in their day, instead of vice versa.