by Toby Neal
On the way home, Lei’s cell rang.
“Hi, Lei. It’s Marcus.” Lei wondered when her breath would stop freezing at the sound of the big detective’s voice.
“Hey, Marcus. Any news on the Bozeman thing?” Be proactive not reactive, she told herself. Another Dr. Wilson-ism.
“That’s what I’m calling about. We got Bozeman’s shooter. Grieving wife of a client he’d offed. The lady extorted Bozeman’s name out of the business partner who’d ordered the hit, then shot him. Tracked Bozeman, shot him too. Lady’s a badass. I wish we could give her a medal instead of locking her up, but oh well. Everything’s all tied up on the case.”
“Wow, she sounds like a force to be reckoned with. So . . . everything’s tied up?” She gave a delicate emphasis to the word “everything.” Kwon lay between them, an unspoken ghost.
“Yup. Everything. Case closed.” Kamuela’s voice was brisk.
“Well. Thanks for the call. That’s really good news.”
“Yeah. Marcella and I want to go out with you and that mystery man of yours.”
“I know. Soon, I hope. Thanks again.” Lei hung up, and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Kwon was finally behind her for good.
Chapter 32
Sophie pulled the Lexus up to the curb on the quiet side street where Lei Texeira lived. She took a minute to close her eyes and lean her close-cropped head on the steering wheel, gathering courage to go talk about the case and its aftermath. She was still haunted by all she’d seen and by Castellejos’s utter lack of remorse.
She’d had no idea IA would get involved regarding Healani Chang’s death and that they’d investigate Lei for murder! Her stomach clenched at the thought of Lei’s stress, but she hoped her visit would help a little with that.
Sophie took one more breath, blew it out, and stepped out into the pearly light of approaching dusk in Honolulu. The plumeria tree by Lei’s gate was in bloom, and the yellow throats of creamy white pinwheel blossoms emitted a sumptuous scent as she rang the bell set in the metal gate frame.
The reaction was immediate—a chorus of barking. A deep, bellowing bark was punctuated by a shrill timpani bark, and two dogs burst into view, matched perfectly and yet never more different. One was a big Rottweiler and the other, a teacup Chihuahua barking so hard she flew off the ground on stiff legs.
Lei followed the dogs out to the gate. Her bruises were fading but still evident. “Sophie, hi! Come on in.”
Lei opened the gate, and Sophie entered, hesitant because of the dogs’ cacophony. “Meet my dogs. Keiki, sit. Angel, sit.” Lei did a hand signal and the dogs shut up and sat. “Put your fist out, Sophie, fingers down. Let them get a sniff of you.”
Sophie did so, realizing in that moment that a dog might be something she was missing out on. She’d never had a pet, and the empty echo of the apartment came to mind. Imagine having the company of a dog on her runs, happy toenails clattering across the teak floors to greet her. Her father couldn’t complain the place was unlived in with a dog at home. She smiled and knelt, stroking the dogs’ smooth heads.
“They’re beautiful. I think I might like a dog.”
“Lots of great animals needing homes at the Humane Society.” Lei led the way back into the cottage. “You’re never really alone when you have a dog. So what brings you to my house? I should tell you, I’ve been forbidden by Waxman to discuss the IA aspects of the case at all while I’m being investigated.” She went to a cabinet, took down a couple of glasses. “Can I get you something to drink? A beer?”
“Okay.” Sophie sat down on one of the small aluminum chairs. Maybe some alcohol would make this easier. She looked around the tidy, bright little space. “Cute place.”
“It’s perfect for me and the girls.” Lei poured a couple of Heinekens into the glasses, brought them to the table. “To the successful shutdown of DyingFriends. You made this case, Sophie, and you’re going to make it for the prosecution.”
They clinked the glasses in toast and Sophie sipped. “Did Ken call you about KevorkianFan’s confession?”
“No. What’s the latest?”
“Bad news on Terence Chang but good news on the real monster behind the site.” Sophie drank more, chugging down half her glass while Lei watched, tilted brown eyes wide.
“Thirsty? There’s more where that came from.”
Sophie burped behind her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time since the interview with KevorkianFan. Turns out he’s Robert Castellejos, the cancer victim.”
“What?” Lei’s shock looked genuine. “Seemed like such a nice guy. Gave me some honey.” She gestured to the jar on the counter.
“I hope you didn’t try any. Throw it away. God knows what he put in there!” Sophie pushed the glass away, looked at Lei. “Terence Chang rolled on Castellejos as the power behind the site. Castellejos came in and made a full confession on the assisted suicide of more than three hundred victims. Guy’s a psychopath but sees himself as a patriot.”
“Holy God.” Lei stared at her for a long moment, then picked up her glass and drank. Set it down. “What happened with Chang?”
“We cut him loose. Going to get a year or so for his administration of the site in return for testimony about Castellejos.”
Lei frowned. “That kid hates me. I better watch my back.”
“Yes. I’d agree with that. I think we’ll see more from Terence Chang in the future. He’s got the attitude to step into Healani Chang’s shoes as head of the family, but we’ve got him under surveillance and on an ankle bracelet at the moment. Marcella told me they’re investigating you as if you might have shot Healani Chang. It’s just crazy.”
“That IA guy? Pillman? What a piece of work. I get that it’s his job to investigate irregularities in the department, but he doesn’t have to like it so much.” The beer appeared to burn Lei’s throat going down, and she coughed.
“Well, I just came to bring you up to speed. I know we aren’t supposed to discuss the IA investigation, so all I’ll say is this: None of us believe that shit, and Ken’s got evidence backing you up. It will blow over.”
“Thanks for that.”
“We’ve also been able to prevent at least three more deaths so far by intercepting communications that were in motion from the site. A lot of people will have an opportunity to live a little longer, and maybe that will make a positive difference. I don’t know.”
“I know, right? Tough case. So sad—a bunch of dying people helping each other die faster. I felt so bad for the DyingFriends members. Even Chang—he seemed to really love his grandma and hate to see her suffering. This is one case I’m happy to be done with.”
“Speaking of happy. Marcella told me your boyfriend is back in your life.” Sophie wished she wasn’t the only one of their trio without anyone to come home to.
“Yeah. We’re good.” Lei’s face moved from interesting to truly beautiful with her big smile. “We’ve sure been through some hard times. I’m hoping they’re going to come to an end soon. One way or another. Thanks for coming by.”
“I’m glad I did. Hang in there.” Sophie stood up, headed for the door. Lei followed.
“You know, everyone keeps saying that. I just don’t know what I’m hanging in there for anymore.”
“That sounds ominous.” Sophie petted the dogs’ heads and they trotted with her to the gate.
“I have more than just work on my mind these days. I’m thinking of making some changes.”
“I bet, with a guy like Stevens. I’d be happy to just have a dog at this point.”
“You should get one. Go by the pound; they’ll all be begging for you to take them home. I can’t go there at all myself. I’d be overrun. Thanks so much for coming over.”
“I’d like to be friends,” Sophie said impulsively, feeling a flush in her cheeks at her awkward words. She was so bad at this.
“Of course. I’ve wanted that for a while.” Lei smiled. “So next time you and Marcella shoot poo
l, count me in. Better yet, we can just go.”
“For sure.” Sophie went through the gate, clicked it shut, and stopped for one last touch of Keiki’s broad nose, pressed through the bars.
Yes, a dog would be a good place to start.
That night, Sophie’s new companion, a two-year-old yellow Lab named Ginger, refused to stay in the laundry room. The dog employed a variety of behaviors from scratching to howling to convey the message that she wouldn’t be separated from her new mistress.
Sophie ended up with company in her bed in the cool dark cave of her room. While not exactly what she’d had in mind, Ginger was most definitely warm and hairy, and Castellejos’s hypnotic eyes were banished from her dreams.
Chapter 33
The next day Stevens drove Lei in his old Bronco from Kahului Airport toward his place in Kuau on Maui. Lei gazed out at the wind lashing the sugarcane fields in a familiar dance off of Hana Highway. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out, frowning at dr. lasota in the little ID window. “Special Agent Texeira.”
“Dr. LaSota here.” The psychologist’s voice was crisp. “Just wanted to inform you that the investigation into Healani Chang’s death has been ruled a suicide.”
“Okay. I guess.” Lei glanced at Stevens and met his concerned eyes.
“Yes. And furthermore, our Internal Affairs investigation has come back with no evidence of wrongdoing on your part. You are in the clear.”
“Thank you.” Lei gave Stevens a thumbs-up sign.
“We are, however, entering a note in your personnel file that you are not to be involved with any further investigation of the Chang family.”
“Great. I don’t want anything to do with them, either.”
“Good. Also, I’m personally sorry if this investigation added stress to your injuries.” The doctor’s voice had softened. “I didn’t like the direction things took.”
“I didn’t either. Thank you.” Lei clicked off the phone after the psychologist hung up. “Looks like I’m in the clear over Healani Chang’s suicide.”
“Thank God,” Stevens said. “We can really relax and enjoy our weekend together now that the Kwon thing and that investigation are over.” He reached over to squeeze her leg. “I hope you like my apartment.”
He turned into the small parking lot of a condo complex outside the beachfront town of Paia and parked the truck in front of a three-story tan cinder-block building facing the turquoise sea. Coconut palms gyrated in the wind around the sides of the building, and the parking lot was trimmed in plumeria trees and brilliant magenta bougainvillea.
Stevens lifted Lei’s stuffed carry-on backpack out of the backseat of the Bronco while Lei opened the tailgate and unlatched the door of the big dog crate where Keiki lay, expressive brown eyes anxious. Angel had gone to live with Consuelo at her group home, and Lei missed the little dog already.
“C’mon out, girl.”
The big Rottweiler jumped down from the Bronco, and Lei clipped the dog’s leash on, letting her sniff and investigate the lot. Maui really did have something uniquely wonderful about it, and it was in the wide-open spaces and warm breeze that tossed her hair.
Lei thought she could smell the salty tang of the ocean just on the other side of the complex. Her chest was tight with excitement—she was finally here.
“I scored a unit on the bottom floor,” Stevens said. “Come see.” He carried the backpack along the cement walkway to a teal-green apartment door marked 101. He set the backpack against the wall. Stuck the key in, turned it, gave the door a little push. It swung inward.
Lei could hear the sound of surf echoing through the sliding door at the front of the apartment. The rhythmic swish was amplified by the walls like the song in a shell. A lance of sunlight reflected off the ocean, bounced off the ceiling, and lit the way in.
He stood still for a long moment, then slowly turned to face her.
“What? Is something wrong?” Lei felt her chest tighten. Was he regretting this? She’d finally learned what she needed more than any job, and she wasn’t going to let any more time go by without telling him so. There were big steps ahead to take, but she’d made up her mind to get through them one by one.
Keiki gave a happy bark, trotting ahead of them into the apartment, leash trailing. The sunlight from the sea reflected off the floor, lighting Stevens’s eyes. There were flecks of white in that crystal blue like ice floating in an Arctic sea. She could stand there, in the doorway, looking into those eyes all day. He seemed to feel the same, looking into hers.
“You’re here,” he said. “You’re really here.”
“Yes.” Lei felt tears well up. She was so happy and so scared. “I have something I want to ask you.”
“What?” His dark brows drew together in confusion as she dropped to one knee, hands twisted together.
“Will you marry me?”
She’d broken his heart so many times. She’d deserve it if he broke hers. She shut her eyes, bracing herself.
Stevens threw his head back and laughed, a sound of hilarity and joy that made the tears she’d been holding back overflow.
“Yes. Yes, God help me, I will.” He reached down to haul her up by the elbows. He hugged her, crushing her with such power she gave a little wheeze. He swung her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing, and she squeaked and laughed through the tears. Stevens stepped over the threshold with her in his arms and kicked the door shut with his heel.
The backpack sat out on the sidewalk for a long time, forgotten.
Monday morning, Lei walked into the meeting she’d asked for with Waxman. He’d beaten them to the conference room, as usual. Lei carried a piece of paper in a sweaty hand, and Marcella and Ken followed her in as she laid it in front of the special agent in charge.
“My resignation. Effective immediately.”
She’d texted Marcella and Ken of her intentions, and their set faces reflected stoicism and support as they seated themselves on either side of her.
Waxman picked it up. Read it. Steepled his fingers as he did so. Removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, sighed. “Where’s your union rep?”
“He advised me against this. I just want to get it over with. I have another job offer on Maui.”
“And a relationship there too.” Waxman put his glasses back on, looked at her. “I’m not blind. And I know this IA thing has knocked you on your ass. I was prepared for this, and I have a proposal for you. How would you like to remain on in a titular capacity as our special liaison to Maui? Whenever we have cases there, you’ll be our go-to support and communications agent.”
Lei felt hope fluttering. “I would love that,” she managed to say. “I hate to leave the FBI. But I don’t know how that role would work with my new job. It’s a full-time lieutenant position with the Maui Police Department.”
“Congratulations on that. I’m sure Captain Omura and I can work something out that will be beneficial to all concerned.” Waxman leaned forward. “I also want to let you know the investigation into Healani Chang’s death has come back with no evidence of wrongdoing on your part. Personally, I never doubted it.” He reached into his briefcase, brought out her two weapons and cred wallet. “For the remainder of your time with us.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope I will be able to be an asset to the Bureau on Maui.” She took the items, shook her boss’s hand.
Waxman smiled. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Agent Texeira. You’ll be missed around here.”
Out in the hall, Marcella embraced her. “Damn girl. Thank God Waxman came up with something to keep you connected to the Bureau!”
“It was such a hard decision, but Stevens and I—we’re getting married.” Lei held out her hand for Marcella and Ken to see the simple engagement band with a channel-set diamond, which they’d picked out that weekend. “You both better come and be in my wedding.”
“Oh my God!” Marcella exclaimed, grabbing her hand. “You’re doing it!”
“Congratul
ations!” Ken swept her up in a bone-cracking hug, a first from her physically reserved partner. “Count me in. Do I get to be a bridesmaid or groomsman?”
“Your choice.” Lei felt those easy tears that had plagued her since the head injury rise up, and she blinked them back as she smiled at the two agents who’d become her closest friends. “I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world. It was great working with you, and I learned so much from both of you.”
“It was mutual,” Ken and Marcella said in unison, and they laughed as they walked down the hall.
Acknowledgements:
Twisted Vine is the book my subconscious has been planning since Blood Orchids, first in the series, came out. Preparing for Twisted, I wrote all the “loose ends” and subplots I needed to tie up (this book was to be the last in the Lei Crime Series™) on the whiteboard next to my desk while I was still completing the challenging manuscript that was Broken Ferns.
I started looking for a crime well ahead of time. I look everywhere for ideas: the news, rumors in the community, blogs, articles, newspapers, TV shows. Some of my favorite crime exposes have been in People Magazine and Vanity Fair—truth is often stranger than fiction!
I needed something no one had done before, something the FBI would get involved with, something new and unique.
I’ve included a lot of crimes in the series, from the “basics” of the genre like rape, robbery and drugs to the finer points of money laundering, identity theft, sex trafficking, burglary and of course, murder. It’s challenging to find something really different in the crime mystery genre, and I was coming up dry.
In my therapy practice I saw a series of depressed people—and as part of “motivational interviewing” a technique in which there is open dialogue about why a person engages in a given behavior, and the reasons behind it, I had serious discussions with people struggling with suicidal thoughts. These talks delved into the reasons behind this complex problem—and I realized I wanted to explore the issue of suicide and right-to-death, just as I have many social issues of Hawaii and current times through my fiction.
