Hawaii Five Uh-Oh

by Z. A. Maxfield

  Through gritted teeth, Theo asked, “That one dead yet?”

  “I wish.” Dimples transformed her face when she smiled. “You wouldn’t be a highly trained assassin cleverly disguised as a computer geek?”

  “I’m not even a computer geek.”

  “Too bad on both counts, but especially since our POS POS system is offline and only Spider knows how to fix it.”

  “I’m sorry, can you translate that for me? I don’t speak whatever that was.”

  “Our point-of-sale machine is a piece of shit.” Her gestures helped. “I told him to go with Altametrics. He says no, no, I know a guy. Dumbass.”

  “Ah. I’m afraid I know nothing about that.” He was thirstier than he thought, or the beer looked particularly good because she drew it with a flourish. As soon as she handed it over, he took a big swallow. “As you probably know, I’m a cop. Just out of curiosity, did Spider tell you anything at all about what happened to him last night?”

  She folded her arms over her… tats again. “Didn’t you ask him?”

  “Well, yeah—”

  “Didn’t he tell you what happened?” Was she trying to annoy him?

  “Not in so many words, no.”

  She was onto him. He could tell by the slight flattening of her lips that she knew his questions weren’t casual. “And?”

  “I’m worried he might be protecting someone. Like a boyfriend or an ex, maybe?”

  “He left the ex on the mainland. They were done before he came here anyway.” She frowned into the distance. “That was amicable. They wanted to marry and settle down. Spider came here to chase waves and policemen, and everyone’s happy.”

  “Anyone else seem hinky lately?”

  “He dates cops.” She frowned at him again. “You’re all hinky motherfuckers as far as I’m concerned. Got anger issues. I’m Cake. What’s your name?” She held out her hand for a firm—almost too firm—shake.

  “Did you say Cake?” The question got him another eye roll. “Sorry, um. Pleasure. I’m Theo Hsu.”

  “A boy named Hsu.” Her laughter floated above them, musical and sweet. “How do you do?”

  A laugh like hers compelled a guy to laugh along, even to ancient jokes. “Never heard that one before.”

  Her face grew serious. “The actual hinky thing is Spider dates cops, right? He went out with a cop and he came back looking like that. How does that even happen?”

  “I offered him a ride home,” Theo confessed. “He said he wanted to walk. It was still early then, relatively speaking. People were out walking. I don’t know what happened after. I wish I’d insisted. I wish I’d—”

  Her hand fell on his. “Can’t you like… pull traffic cam videos and call the feds and use face recognition software or check passports against DNA—”

  “You watch a lot of television, huh?” Theo hated to let her down. “First of all, he’s not even making a police report.”

  “Shit. Well. You know Spider.”

  “I just met Spider, so not really, no. If he’s some kind of law-enforcement legend, that didn’t make it into the newsletters on my last job in Bear Lake, Wisconsin. Help a guy out.”

  “Okay. Look. I work here, you know? If you want secrets—”

  “Observations. Not secrets. How come he’s so into cops and he doesn’t want to make a police report?”

  “You’re just a cop, right? Not a detective?”

  He sat back, stung. “Right. I’m only a plain, ordinary beat cop. Unlike the hotshots Palapiti, Ortiz, and Bradshaw, I wear the humble uniform of—”

  “That’s what I mean.” She apparently hadn’t heard his sarcasm. “That’s his thing. Unis are his thing.”

  “And.”

  “And you make sense ’cause you’re a uni. And Palapiti’s everyone’s thing. But lately Spider’s been spending time with that Ortiz guy, and him? I don’t get. He’s not a uni, and he’s not queer. So how is he Spider’s type? I mean. It doesn’t fit, does it? Spider’s into like, Buddha, man, and Ortiz is Mr. Arrogant Asshole. He’s violent and he doesn’t give a shit what he does.”

  “Ortiz is straight?”

  “Isn’t he?” Her body language challenged him to prove her wrong. And he couldn’t. “I always thought he was straight, but suddenly he’s spending all his time hanging out with Koa and Spider—”

  “You’re saying Spider and Koa, and Ortiz and Koa? Or all three at once?”

  She shrugged like they were talking about Schrödinger’s cat. “Unanswerable. But Koa’s got game, and all the sudden? Everyone’s talking about him like he’s hooking up with everybody.”

  “Is Ortiz possible, though?” When Ortiz had Calista? When Kekoa was eye-fucking him like he could never, ever get enough? “Sometimes when alcohol’s involved a guy becomes a little try-sexual, but honestly? I’m not seeing Ortiz in the role.”

  You can’t get distracted by that now. You’re trying to figure out what happened to Spider.

  “I couldn’t care less about Ortiz.” Liar. You care like hell.

  “Oh, super. Because look who’s coming to dinner.” Her pursed lips and narrowed eyes made him turn. There, in the flesh, Freddie Ortiz, accompanied by Taryn Bradshaw.

  Ortiz wore motorcycle leathers so worn and fine they fit him like a second skin. He walked in like he had cartel money to burn and balls like… Theo didn’t know what. That much attitude would be funny if it weren’t so theatrical. And if Theo didn’t wish so fervently he was equally badass.

  Theo went through his affirmations mentally, grabbed his glass, and drank to keep from saying anything out loud as Ortiz sauntered by, holding his helmet under one arm. Then he noticed Ortiz’s knuckles were busted all to hell. Theo stood so fast his chair flew back.

  “Detective Ortiz.”

  Ortiz stepped back. “What the actual—”

  “Let me see your hands,” Theo demanded.

  Ortiz met his gaze but ignored his words. Instead, he asked Cake, “Where’s Spider?”

  “I said show me your hands, Ortiz.” Tension crackled around them. Other diners quieted. A small percentage of them got up from their tables. They formed a knot around Theo and Freddie because they were mostly off duty cops. Were they there to prevent violence or take part? They didn’t deter Theo.

  Taut silence drew out between them. Finally Ortiz held his hands out, palms up. Then he turned them palms down. The backs of his knuckles were bruised and split. From punching someone in the face? He wore no ring. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been wearing one when he beat on Spider.

  “You motherfucker.” He went after Ortiz, and four guys jumped on him at once. “Fuck off. Get off me. Ask him about his hands!”

  With a weird frown, Ortiz looked at his own hands. “I got in a scuffle yesterday on the job. So what?”

  “With Spider?” Theo tried to yank his arms out of their hold, but Ortiz’s pals held him fast.

  Ortiz turned the color of ash. “You’re out of your mind.”

  “For God’s sake, Theo.” Taryn muscled her way through the crowd of mostly men. “Don’t be an asshole. Freddie didn’t hurt Spider. We’re here to see if we can help.”

  Theo pulled away again, and this time they let him go. He rubbed the feeling back into his arms while Taryn and Freddie cornered Cake, who forgot all about him.

  While he finished his beer, Cake took the others into her office, where presumably she spooled out the exact same unhelpful information for them as she did for him. A contented ex. A bad hookup. He’d have liked to be let in on the meeting, but Ortiz made him feel like he’d failed as a third-string player. He didn’t love being water boy.

  While he waited for Koa to let him know he could head back to his apartment, he ate an order of tempura-battered shrimp with a salty, spicy, soy-based sauce that reminded him of Spider and made him sad. He barely knew the guy and he felt wrecked.

  Maybe he wasn’t much of a cop, or a friend.

  Koa texted the words We’re clearing out of your place about
a half hour after Theo finished eating. He hurried back to find Koa and Spider gone when he got there. Theo wasn’t even surprised.

  Nothing about Koa surprised him anymore.

  Chapter Ten

  BARS OF sunlight on the attractive area rug beneath the cocktail table had long since lengthened and disappeared. His couch, which faced away from his bed, divided his space neatly into two areas. The “front room” featured a television on the wall behind an entry table. Opposite that stood a couch, a chair, and a cocktail table.

  Once you passed the couch, his bed sat made neatly, opposite a tiny kitchen area with a table for two. Beyond that, he had a generously sized bath and a closet that seemed more like a knock-knock joke.

  Knock-knock.

  Who’s there?

  Clothes.

  Clothes, who caaaaaaares? There’s not enough space in here for clothes.

  Theo didn’t have a ton of clothes—or material goods at all, for that matter. He had cultivated elaborate morning and evening rituals in which clothing didn’t factor too much. He mostly wore a simple pair of basketball shorts at home.

  Mackenzie Detweiler’s book might have been pulled from the new-book shelves a few weeks before, but he gave some good advice. Starting your day with gratitude. Identifying areas where you could do better in the evening, as well as identifying the things that went well. Letting go of material shit you never cared about in the first place. Making every moment count.

  Theo never believed a book could change his life, but he’d given that one a chance, and now look at him. He hadn’t changed a ton right away—a guy didn’t slough off his old life like a snakeskin and emerge shiny and sleek and new. It didn’t work that way…. Theo dimmed the lights to meditate.

  According to Plummet to Soar, twice-daily meditation was protection against spiritual stagnation. Or something. The advice didn’t suck. Keeping a meditation practice made good sense for people in high-stress jobs. That’s how Theo looked at it. He wasn’t going overboard on the metaphysical stuff, but meditation could protect him from career burnout.

  Except… there was a reason they called meditation a practice and not a sport. Unlike running, there was no real way of knowing you were doing it right.

  At his mother’s place, he’d meditated outdoors. The weather was such a change from Bear Lake, for one thing. And she had wind chimes and fountains. Her gardens were lush, close enough to the water to hear the surf, and full of the best natural fragrances. Whether it helped him meditate or not, he didn’t know. He enjoyed it.

  At the new place, he’d make do with a sound conditioner, the power of his imagination, and a comfortable mat. He sat cross-legged and began to clear his mind of the unimportant daily clutter. All the while, his thoughts kept returning to Spider, to his pallor and his ruined skin. To his bleak, betrayed eyes.

  Theo could not let Spider go. What had he seen on Spider’s face?

  Anger, confusion, fear, pain, attraction. Guilt.

  Spider’s expression was a kaleidoscope until he saw Koa. Then relief played a dominant role. Theo let the idea of the two of them… the mystery of what they were to each other and what had happened the night before—and whether it was dangerous or only stupid—go, while he focused on his breathing and held on to his affirmations: I am a warrior for peace. I am a light in the darkness. I am here to help.

  After a while, he requested that all tension leave his body. He called each limb out slowly. Made each muscle tighten and then relax. Soon he even got the heady woo-woo sort of feeling that only came when he was deeply, deeply tranquil, as if he physically breathed in everything around him and then breathed it out again. As if all reality passed through him on its way to… wherever reality existed. And then he heard a noise. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Theo startled but sternly told himself to chill the fuck out. Apparently he’d only achieved a new level of “relaxation” due to all the beer he’d drunk. Getting up and checking for sounds or whatever wasn’t kosher while he meditated, but the cadence of the knock was annoyingly familiar. He started by opening his eyes and getting his bearings. By coming slowly back to awareness.

  More tapping.

  Theo got up and answered, wobbly and blinking like a goddamn owl. Koa stood on the other side with one big hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Keys danged from the fingers of the other.

  “What can I do for you, detective?” Theo asked.

  Koa grunted a greeting. “I figured I ought to come by. We kind of left things weird between us—”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” Theo studied the doorknob as if it fascinated him. “Is Spider going to be okay?”

  “Sure.” Koa nodded. “I came to talk to you about that too.”

  “Right. I guess you’d better come in.” Theo backed away from the door and Koa stepped inside. He studied the ground carefully with each step. What did he expect? Booby traps?

  “Beer?” Theo offered.

  “Thanks.”

  It took only a few steps for Theo to get two bottles from the fridge. He handed one to Koa. Weird—tonight, it was only him and Koa, but his studio felt ten times smaller than it had earlier, when Spider was there too.

  “Is Spider going to file a police report?” he asked.

  Koa’s nonanswer turned Theo’s search for his bottle opener noisy.

  “No? Why’s that?” He shoved the drawer it was supposed to be in closed. Then the next and the next. “Supposed to be a furnished apartment. Where the fuck is my bottle opener—”

  “Chill, Te. I’ve got this.” He came over and opened both beers with a gadget on his key ring.

  “Thanks.” Theo’s hand trembled noticeably when he took his bottle.

  “C’mon. Sit down.” Bossy Koa took his arm and led him to the couch. “What’s got you so fucking jumpy, man?”

  “Besides finding someone I was out with beat to hell like that?” Theo pulled away. “I was focused on something else when you knocked, and I need to regroup.”

  “Oh yeah? Focused how? What do you focus on?” Did Koa’s questions come from curiosity? Or mockery?

  “If you must know, I was meditating.”

  “You into spiritual shit now?” Koa leaned back. “What does that mean?”

  “You should know. Mom says dance is all about spiritual shit—”

  “I’m pretty sure she didn’t call it ‘spiritual shit.’” Koa sat next to him. Not close. No one could accuse him of even a mild come-on. He brushed his hands on his thighs before clasping them together and asking, “I’m interested to know what you practice.”

  So polite. “I used to do guided meditations from a free app on my phone. Now I don’t even bother with that. I focus on my breath. I follow it in and out.” Who was he kidding? “I’m probably doing it all wrong.”

  “Can you breathe wrong?” Koa moved a half cushion closer. He smelled awfully good. Like cinnamon gum, kaffir lime leaves, and—possibly—recent sex. Theo spasmed with coughs. His throat was dry—that was all. He had not just swallowed his tongue.

  “I thought meditation was supposed to relax you.” Koa clapped him forcefully on the back. At that rate, his unneeded aid was going to leave bruises. “Maybe you should stick to drinking.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Theo gave Koa’s beer bottle a ping with his own and took a deep swallow. The coughing fit subsided. Whatever Koa was up to with this new, friendly approach was obviously less than sincere. I’m not going to make this easy for you.

  “You okay?” Koa searched his face. Those dark eyes. My God. They’d lived up to the promise. Fathomless. Beautiful. Intelligent and full of life. “You seem a little shook up.”

  Why was Koa putting on this show, as if he suddenly had all the time in the world to chat? He wasn’t making nice for his health. Theo drained his beer and set the bottle on the floor. How can you not trust him?

  I don’t know him anymore, at all.

  “Maybe if you tell me what you really want before I crash? I’m going to h
ave a long enough day tomorrow, and—”

  “Stop being a smartass.” Koa leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. He dangled his bottle between his knees and sighed like a man with a problem. “You have no idea what I really want.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Koa’s lashes lowered. How dare he hide those eyes. “The thing with Spider? It’s taken care of.”

  “What’s that mean, taken care of?” Theo’s finely honed fan-shit deflectors deployed, complete with an imaginary warning klaxon. “Do I gotta alibi you, or help you bury a body?”

  “Nothing like that.” Koa’s genuine smile produced boyish dimples. He had good reason to hide those on the job—anyone who saw them fell in love with him, which had to be hard on his colleagues and ironic for the dirtbags he put in prison.

  “So… what is it?” That smile, full of nostalgia and lost dreams, warmed him. He’d hoped they could communicate the way they used to. Maybe they could? “Cut to the chase.”

  Koa said, “I need you to keep what you saw to yourself, for now.”

  Another, louder warning sounded in Theo’s lizard brain. “Isn’t that up to Spider?”

  “Spider decided he won’t be making a police report.”

  Theo picked up his beer and walked it to the kitchen. Ten steps wasn’t nearly enough to process what he’d heard. He flattened his hands on the counter. “Where is he?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s lying low. He’s safe.”

  Koa probably didn’t realize Theo could see him in the reflection of the window over the sink. That was the beauty of this particular corner unit. An extra window in the kitchenette. During the day, if he squinted, he could almost see the back of his mother’s house among the others on the bluff while he did dishes. Because it was dark now, he saw Koa’s fiercely beautiful profile outlined against the drab beige wall. The soul patch was a masterful touch. It took a chin that was just a little sharp and softened it. Made it kissable and sweet. Kekoa Palapiti was a fucking thirst trap, and after getting cockblocked the whole time he’d been on the island, Theo was pretty goddamned parched.