He heard a soft splashing sound and he stepped closer. Something dark was bobbing on the surface of the water. He heard more splashing and he dropped to the ground, making himself that much more difficult to detect as he crawled closer. As he peered into the water he finally made out a low rubber raft bobbing on the surface of the water.
A man inside was dressed in black, but the gloves that he was wearing were shiny, reflecting the moonlight, and he wore a shark’s tooth necklace, the white from the tooth standing out in stark contrast.
The man in the raft picked up a box and eased it over the side of the boat and dropped it in. That was the source of the splashing sounds. Jeremiah watched intently as the man dropped in several more packages. A minute after the last one was dumped a second man emerged from the water wearing a black wetsuit and scuba gear.
“Hurry up,” he could hear the man on the boat whisper as he helped haul the other one up.
“It’s done,” the diver said after removing his breather and mask.
“You secured them good?”
“Same as always. No floating to the surface to cause problems, but easily removed when they come for them.”
“I don’t like it. Too many things going on lately. We need to tell them this will be the last shipment. At least until things settle.”
“Are you an imbecile?” the diver asked, heat flooding his voice as he raised it slightly. “You know who we’re dealing with. There’s no getting out temporarily with them. There’s just partnership and getting fed to the sharks off the coast of Ni’ihau.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“If you think that you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were. Let’s get out of here.”
Jeremiah tensed. He could hear their voices clearly, but could not see their faces. There was no way to get a better look, though, without exposing himself. He grit his teeth, wishing he could risk it. Instead he waited and watched as the boat moved away. Once they were gone he turned his attention back to the water where they had been dumping the boxes.
He weighed his options, briefly considering calling in Kapono. But getting the proper clearances and paperwork to go into the water on a naval base would take far too long. Whatever they were doing it was possible that Cindy might have seen or heard something, or that someone thought she did.
He pulled a small light out of his pocket that he had picked up in case he needed it. It was water proof as well, the shop that he had been able to purchase his things from carried mostly dive and surf equipment. He took off his shoes, put his cellphone beside them and after a moment’s hesitation the dive knife he had got at the surf shop as well, and eased himself into the water as quietly as he could.
It was warmer than he anticipated and he was grateful. He swam out the few yards to where the diver had been. Then he took a deep breath and dove down, kicking hard. Once he was underwater he clicked on the light which illuminated the water below him. He kicked harder, heading downward. He finally saw a large pile of packages underneath a net that was weighted down. He managed to lift up a corner and pull one of the packages free. That done he headed for the surface as quickly as he could.
He hoisted himself up out of the water and put his shoes back on. He studied the package for a moment. It was about the size of a shoe box wrapped in plain brown paper. He hooked a fingernail under a corner of the wrapping and tore it open.
When he finally opened the lid he saw that the box was filled with bags of a white looking powder. He stared at it for a moment. Drugs. They were dumping drugs into the harbor.
He picked up his cell and called Kapono.
“Hello?” the Detective asked after the fourth ring, sounding like he had been woken from sleep.
“It’s Jeremiah. I think I found something interesting down at the naval base.”
“Pearl Harbor?” Kapono asked. “What are you doing there at this hour? Base is closed to visitors.”
“Never mind that,” Jeremiah said. “But you need to get down here. Someone is using it as a dumping ground for drugs. I’m guessing it’s part of a smuggling ring. I’m also guessing that Cindy saw something she shouldn’t have when she was here.”
“Then why wait so long to snatch her?” Kapono asked. “They took her nearly thirty-six hours later.”
“Maybe it took that long to find her or maybe she did or said something else that caught their attention. Regardless, you want to know about the drugs or not?”
“Yes. Sorry, where are you?”
Jeremiah described his location.
“And how did you get there?”
“You don’t want to know. And, Detective?”
“Yes.”
“Keep my name out of it.”
“I’m not sure I can-”
Jeremiah ended the call. He tossed the package back into the water. He pulled on his shoes, pocketed the dive knife and his phone and continued on the path he had been heading before he saw the men with the boat.
Within a few moments he made it to the restaurant. He stood outside for a moment before walking all around the building, taking everything in. The sun was rising. Police tape covered the front door. He ducked underneath it and entered.
The light was beginning to stream through the windows. Cindy had been here, stumbling into yet another crime scene. He closed his eyes and imagined her face, her scream, as she found the body.
And this time I wasn’t here to come to her aid. I should have never let her go. He balled his hand into a fist and leaned his forehead against it even as he forced himself to breathe. He had known her for just over a year now and the way he felt about her was something new for him. New and dangerous for both of them.
It’s time I leave, he realized. Once I get her safely back home I need to leave town, head for a different state.
It was going to be hard to start over in a new town with a new synagogue, but he had become far too entangled where he was. There were too many people he cared about, and too many who cared about him. Then there was the man from his past who had ended up dead on his lawn. When he thought about it, leaving was the only rational decision to be made.
But first, he would see Cindy safely home. He opened his eyes and began to look around. The place looked like a dive, hardly the sort of establishment a taxi driver would likely send a tourist, good food or no.
Kapono had said that they suspected that the owner was involved in illegal activity, specifically laundering drug money. Was he connected to whoever was dumping the drugs in the harbor? It seemed likely. And the taxi driver was likely involved as well. He knew that Kapono had said they hadn’t yet run down the driver.
He walked around slowly, eyes sweeping everything as he tried to put himself in Cindy’s shoes, see what she had seen. According to Kapono the restaurant had been empty when Cindy entered. He finally made his way to the kitchen. The chalk outline of a man and blood stains were on the floor. Jeremiah walked around the kitchen looking at it from every angle.
If Uncle had been killed by one of his partners or a rival it was likely for some reason. Maybe he had been cheating his partners or a rival wanted to take over his business. He knew that the police had already checked the man’s home thoroughly for any evidence linking him to money laundering or drug trafficking. According to Kapono they had come up empty.
Which lead Jeremiah to believe that if the man had been keeping any kind of records they were right there in the restaurant. A box of disposable gloves was sitting on the counter. At least it looked like Uncle had taken what little food preparation he did seriously.
Jeremiah slid on a pair of gloves and then began to systematically check the kitchen. He did a cursory check of all the cabinets for false bottoms or backs. He checked underneath all the counters and behind the sink. He was moving toward the refrigerator when he heard the front door open.
He froze, listening. He heard footsteps in the dining room, a single person, long stride, a big guy walking with confidence not sneaking around.
Jeremiah called out, “I’m in the kitchen, Kapono.”
A moment later Kapono popped his head in the kitchen.
“What are you doing in here?” the detective asked.
“You found me here, what do you imagine I’m doing?” Jeremiah asked.
“Looking for more clues about Cindy’s kidnapping.”
Jeremiah nodded.
“How did you know it was me?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “Lucky guess.”
“Yeah, right. You know you shouldn’t be here. This is breaking and entering.”
“Actually just entering. The door was open.”
“Fine. We’ve got divers bringing up those packages you found in the harbor.”
“I watched a couple of men dumping them. Didn’t get a good look at them, but I’d recognize their voices if I heard them again.”
“What I don’t understand is why they were dumping the drugs.”
“Well, since they were keeping them pinned down they weren’t disposing of them, more like saving them for pick-up at a later time.”
“Why bother?”
“Maybe that’s how they handle the exchange,” Jeremiah suggested.
“Complicated way to do things.”
“Depends on the parties involved,” Jeremiah said.
Kapono nodded. “So, what are we looking for?”
“We’ll know when we find it,” Jeremiah said. He moved to the refrigerator, opened it and looked through it. Then he opened the freezer.
“What you looking for in there? Trust me, you don’t want to eat anything Uncle cooked.”
“Maybe not, but I think I found something,” Jeremiah said. He was staring in the freezer. There underneath a pig’s head was something long and flat. He pulled it out. It was a clear pouch. He opened the pouch and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
He flipped through them quickly and then handed them to Kapono.
The detective whistled. “Lots of transactions here.”
“Yeah, but I don’t see any names.”
“No, but there’s some Hawaiian here, no names, but descriptions.”
“What do they say?” Jeremiah asked.
“Ugly shows up a number of time. Bad leg too.”
“Designations, nicknames perhaps?” Jeremiah asked.
“Could be. Here’s one that shows up over and over again. Big boat man.”
“Boat. What kind of boat I wonder?”
“Big. So, not an outrigger or a catamaran. Maybe more like a yacht,” Kapono ventured.
“Got any yacht owners you suspect are involved with the drug trade?”
“A couple.”
“Here’s another one. Kama’aina. It shows up a few times, but it looks like more money was going to whoever that it is than was coming from them.”
“Something Uncle was funding perhaps?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does Kama’aina mean?” Jeremiah asked.
“Of the land. It’s a term for locals.”
Kapono flipped through the rest of the pages quickly and then looked up with a frustrated sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was hoping for account numbers. But I don’t see any here.”
“Maybe they’re encoded too.”
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe he got those from someone else.”
Jeremiah cocked his head.
Kapono scowled. “The card the taxi driver gave Cindy to give to Uncle wasn’t a normal business card. It had a string of numbers on it. Maybe he was the one supplying account numbers for Uncle to move the money into or out of.”
“Whoever kidnapped Cindy might think she has the account numbers,” Jeremiah said.
Kapono shook his head. “Then let’s hope they don’t figure out she doesn’t. If they do they have no reason to keep her alive.”
Jeremiah set his jaw. “But if they think she has them, they’ll be torturing her for them.”
“I don’t want to think about that,” Kapono said.
“We need to find that taxi driver.”
“He won’t know where she is.”
“No, but he’ll know who else is involved who might know what happened to her.”
“You’re right. We should get out of here. I have to check in with my captain. This whole thing just got a whole lot bigger than a missing persons case now that we can definitively tie her kidnapping in with the murder.”
“First we need to make sure we didn’t miss anything else,” Jeremiah said.
“Okay, where do we look next?”
Fifteen minutes later Jeremiah was satisfied that there was nothing left in the restaurant to find. Kapono had the good sense not to ask how Jeremiah knew to check some of the obscure locations he did.
“I think we’re done here,” Jeremiah told Kapono. The detective nodded and together they headed to the front of the restaurant. The sun was shining brightly through the windows making the place look that much worse. As they neared the door Jeremiah slowed, letting Kapono go first.
The big detective swung the door open wide and ducked underneath the police tape. Before he could straighten up a shot rang out. Jeremiah dropped to the ground and watched as Kapono teetered for a moment before crumbling to the ground in front of him.
12
Cindy had managed to make it to the closet by jolting her chair an inch at a time closer. She was sweating and shaking from the exertion and the thirst had become unbearable. The closet had a sliding door. She leaned her head against it and pushed toward the side. It opened a crack, just enough for her to wiggle a finger into it and push. It slid open a little more and she kept working at it until she could see the entire inside of the closet.
It was empty.
She leaned her head against the wall, sobbing in frustration.
Keep going, a voice inside her head seemed to say.
She turned her head toward the door. She had to make it out of the room. Somewhere in the house there had to be something she could use to help free herself.
She coiled all her muscles and lurched sideways in the chair.
~
Jeremiah could hear Kapono groaning which meant the detective was still alive. He had no idea how badly he was hit, though. Jeremiah slid to the side, out of direct line of sight of the door. Kapono moved, reaching for the gun that was in his waistband.
Jeremiah pulled the dive knife out of his pocket with his right hand and slid it out of its sheath. He waited, listening, and watching.
Outside the door Jeremiah heard boots crunching on the ground.
“We can’t kill him,” someone hissed.
“We have to. He’s seen us,” a second voice answered and Jeremiah recognized it as the diver from the harbor.
“We have to get out of here. The cops found the drop spot. It’s all over.” The speaker was definitely the other man from the harbor, the one who had remained in the boat.
“Nothing’s over. There’s nothing to tie it to us. We just have to keep cool and take care of business.”
Jeremiah could see the legs of one of them at last. He was fairly certain it was the diver, the one who was insisting that they finish Kapono off. Kapono's hand was behind his back, wrapped around the butt of his gun and Jeremiah wasn't sure if the assailant could see it from where he was.
The man squatted down and took the sheaf of papers from Kapono's hand. Jeremiah had a clear shot at the man's chest, but hesitated. If he killed him that would mean a world of headache, paperwork, and questions at the very least. All these things would slow down his search for Cindy, and the more questions people asked the more he risked being discovered for who he had been in his past.
No, he couldn’t risk killing the man. But he could certainly wound him. He threw the knife and it embedded itself in the man’s leg. He screamed and as he fell backwards Kapono freed his gun and fired. Jeremiah could see the body jerk as it fell.
“Don’t move,” Kapono warned, training his gun, presumably on the other man.
Jeremiah stood and crossed over to the doorway. The diver was dead, shot through the head. The second man stood a few feet back, hands in the air, a look of terror on his face. The clothes of both marked them as being members of the U.S. navy. Kapono had just shot a military man. There was going to be hell to pay over that one and Jeremiah was exceedingly glad that it had been Kapono who killed the man and not Jeremiah.
“How badly are you hit?” he asked Kapono softly.
“Not badly enough that I’ll miss killing this scum if he moves,” Kapono said, voice grim.
Jeremiah leaned down and offered Kapono his hand, careful not to take his eyes off of the other man.
“I’ll get myself up. Go check him for weapons,” Kapono said.
Jeremiah moved forward and swiftly patted down the man. The last name embroidered on his uniform was Erickson. He had a handgun and a Swiss army knife on him which Jeremiah tossed back toward Kapono.
He glanced back and saw the detective getting to his feet. There was blood soaking his left shoulder. He tossed Jeremiah his handcuffs and Jeremiah cuffed the man, making sure he did it tight.
“That’s too tight,” Erickson protested. “You’re cutting off my circulation.”
Jeremiah didn’t say a word. He had cuffed the man tight enough that it was highly unlikely he would be able to escape even if he did break his thumbs in an attempt to get free. He pushed Erickson down to a kneeling position, making sure he got a good eyeful of his dead buddy.
He glanced over at Kapono. He was pale and swaying slightly on his feet.
“Better call it in, and then sit down before you fall down,” Jeremiah advised.
“Good idea,” Kapono grunted. He took out his phone, called for an ambulance and back-up.
Jeremiah walked quickly over. He ripped the right sleeve off Kapono’s shirt, wadded it into a ball and pressed it against the wound to help stop the bleeding.
“He just winged me,” the detective grunted.
“Yeah, but I think it’s more than a scratch.”
Beside Still Waters (Psalm 23 Mysteries) Page 12
