Fire Prayer

by Deborah Turrell Atkinson

  “I know. Have a safe trip.” Why did she feel like he was going farther than a twenty-five-minute flight and thirty miles?

  Though airport security was a lot more easy-going than Honolulu, the guard was ambling her way. Just doing his job, and at least he wore a smile. Storm slowly climbed into Dusty’s truck, which he’d cheerfully volunteered that morning before rushing off to the barn. She drove at a crawl past the small terminal, out onto the highway, and a mile or two to the nearest gas station, where she filled the tank.

  On the ride back to the ranch, she contemplated how to tactfully question Dusty about his missing daughter. Her own concerns derailed her thoughts, though. Was it only Hamlin’s injury that was making him seem distant?

  What she really wanted was to talk to Aunt Maile and hear that she was fretting about nothing. But Aunt Maile and Uncle Keone had planned to leave early that morning, too, for a visit to Pala‘au State Park and the area around Phallic Rock, a place of great power on the island. They would be gathering plants and absorbing Hawaiian culture until dinner time.

  So Storm corralled her thoughts on the road back to the ranch, drove past the Lodge and up the hill to the barn. As the truck crunched its way over the crushed coral drive, she could see Dusty in the rodeo arena, working with a handful of young paniolo and their cutting horses. He looked up at the sound of the approaching vehicle and waved.

  A few minutes later, he led his lathered horse, an appaloosa with bright, inquisitive eyes, out of the arena.

  “What a gorgeous horse.” Storm wished she’d brought a carrot or apple for the handsome gelding. She reached out to the animal, who snuffled the palm of her hand.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting. Thought I’d bring the truck to you.” She handed over the keys. “Thanks for loaning it to us.”

  “You’re welcome.” Dusty pocketed the keys.

  “Moonlight’s a new arrival to the stable, and he’s going to work out just fine.” Dusty gave the horse a pat and tied him to a rail. He removed the saddle and handed it to a young man who’d approached to help. “We’re training for the Makawao Rodeo.”

  Some of Storm’s worries lifted as she watched Moonlight’s skin twitch with delight. Butterfly used to do the same thing. “You going to cool him down? I’ll walk with you a bit.”

  “Sure, a walk would be good. The air up here is good for the soul.” He attached a lead rope to Moonlight’s halter. “How’s Hamlin doing this morning?”

  The kindness in his voice caught Storm off guard. She looked down at her feet and waited a moment for the tightness in her throat to subside. “He’s okay. His arm’s a bit sore, I guess.”

  “I heard he needs an X-ray or something.”

  “He might have some nerve damage.”

  “Is Maile taking care of him?”

  Storm nodded.

  “He’ll be okay, then.” He paused. “Time will help.”

  Storm had the feeling he wasn’t just talking about Hamlin’s shoulder. She changed the subject. “Have you always lived here?”

  “I grew up on Maui, but I’m old enough to say I’ve lived most of my life here.” The lines around his eyes appeared to deepen. “I raised my daughter here.”

  “I heard about her last night.”

  The clip-clop of Moonlight’s hooves were the only sound for a second or two. “I didn’t think I’d survive losing her.”

  “She’s missing, right?”

  Dusty gave her a sad smile. “That’s what death is, isn’t it? When you know you’ll never see a person again?”

  A wave of sorrow passed over his face and Storm knew what he’d look like when he was an old man. Regret that she’d brought the subject up rolled through her, but to her relief, he broke the heavy silence.

  “I was supposed to watch Tommy that afternoon. He was crawling and really scooting around. You couldn’t leave him alone for a second.” Dusty smiled at the memory. “She was going to drop him off, then go to town to help some of her friends make pickled mangoes for a fundraiser.” He patted the horse’s neck.

  “She didn’t drop him off?”

  “She was always late, so I waited about an hour before I called to see if she’d decided to take Tommy with her.” He turned his head away and rubbed Moonlight’s head. The horse snorted gently, and Dusty continued, his voice matter-of-fact. “We got a lot of people to look for her, for her car.”

  “What happened?”

  “Her car was at the airport.”

  “The police thought she’d left the island?”

  Dusty stopped to adjust the horse’s halter. Storm couldn’t see his face behind the horse’s curved neck. “Some of them did. But cars get abandoned there.”

  She recalled Sergeant Niwa’s comments last night. “They probably scoured the other islands.”

  He nodded. “Mainland, too. The local police sent pictures to other police departments. A photo of the two of them is still on the Internet.”

  Dusty’s gaze was on the ground in front of his feet, but Storm could see the muscles in his jaw working. “What about Tommy’s father?”

  “He was a wreck, too. Worse than me.”

  “Is he still on Moloka‘i?”

  Dusty’s dark eyes met hers. “Sure, you met him yesterday.”

  The first name that popped into Storm’s mind was Makani, but first cousins would be a little too close, not that it didn’t happen. The next name that came to her was Lambert Poele, and she murmured it aloud.

  “Lambert worshiped her, and his son. It was Tia who wouldn’t get married. She wanted to finish college. That’s the reason some people think she left.” Moonlight, Dusty, and Storm had reached the end of a path, and Dusty turned the horse. “She would have told us, though.”

  “How did Lambert feel about her taking classes?”

  “He wanted her to be happy. And Tommy, we wanted the best for him, too.” Dusty frowned into the distance.

  “When did this happen?”

  “Nine years, eleven months, and eighteen days ago.”

  A long time to be counting days. “I remember my mom ‘disappearing,’ too. I still look for her ‘aumakua.”

  “Tia’s is puhi.”

  “The eel, a fierce warrior.” Storm wondered about Tia, who with her desire for education, sounded like a woman who faced down small-town expectations. A fierce warrior. “Mine is pua‘a.”

  “The mischief-maker. I could believe that.” Dusty smiled at her. “Though pigs are revered, too.”

  “She disappeared March twelfth?”

  “The eleventh.”

  The fire he’d mentioned when he picked her and Hamlin up from the airport had taken place around the same time. A death due to suspected arson would shake a community the size of Moloka‘i to its core. Follow that with the disappearance and possible death of two others, and devastation would spread like poison in water.

  Poele, Tanner, Skelly, Conner, the Liu brothers, Dusty, and Tia were all friends, relatives, or colleagues. Kids who’d grown up together and knew each other well. Makani, though his mother lived on Maui, had probably spent a lot of time with them, too. They were all tied to the fire.

  “When was the fire on Moloka’i Ranch?” Storm asked. “The one you told us about?”

  Dusty’s face darkened and he quickened his step. “Why you want to know? Lambert has suffered enough without bringing that up.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Niwa sent Caroline and Haley home and headed for his patrol car with Skelly Richards, who needed a ride back to his office. The urgency of finding Luke had given him a surge of energy, and he absently rubbed a spasm that had been passing through his stomach for the past couple of weeks. Luke’s doctor couldn’t give Niwa a specific time frame, as too many factors affected a diabetic’s blood sugar levels. It turned out Luke had received a small dose of insulin before his nap, and the floor nurse planned to check his glucose levels after he ate and again before bed. But Dr. P
eterson stressed how volatile his levels were, and how they were affected by many factors, particularly the trauma of his mother’s death. The boy probably wouldn’t last twenty-four hours without a monitored balance of insulin and nourishment.

  The first stop Niwa made was at Luke’s home, and Niwa scanned the entire route for both Tanner and Luke. He saw two people walking dogs, but no one else.

  Once at the house, he had to pick the locks to get in. Steve Nishijima had carefully locked up when he and the ID techs finished that morning. Ironic, because Jenny probably didn’t bother. Most of the neighbors didn’t; Niwa rarely locked his own house, though he thought he’d probably begin.

  His next stop would be to drop Skelly at his business, where he could phone the police station if father and son stopped by. Skelly thought there was a good chance Tanner and Luke would spend the night there. Tanner knew where he hid the key and Skelly kept coffee and other supplies on hand for his friend. Tanner did it all the time; he and Luke might even be there now.

  Niwa’s mind was churning with questions and he found Skelly’s frequent inquiries and opinions an annoying distraction. Why had the kid left the hospital? If he was desperate to find his dad, where might he go? Why was he running? That thought chilled Niwa, and made his apprehension worse.

  “Where’s Tanner’s cabin?” Niwa asked. “The one where he does his research?”

  Skelly looked startled. “That’s supposed to be a secret.”

  “This is an emergency.”

  Skelly gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s been a long time since I was there, and Tanner led me into the valley. I don’t know how to get there alone.”

  His evasiveness in the light of Luke’s danger made Niwa want to bite his head off. He controlled the urge. “So where do you think it is?”

  “Someplace back in the valley, before you get to Keawenui Bay. He hikes in or takes a boat.”

  “Which does he usually do?”

  “Kayak or canoe is probably faster. Depends on the ocean, though.”

  “Does Luke know where it is?”

  Skelly nodded. “But it’s too far to go tonight. That’s why they’ll probably spend the night at the office.” He continued to chew on his cheek. “Or maybe my house.”

  “You got a cell phone?”

  “We don’t get reception at the house. Sometimes works at the office. I think it’s ’cause it’s on the water.”

  “Right.” Niwa didn’t have time for Skelly’s ramblings on why cell phone signals worked in some places and not in others on the island. If he listened to that, he’d be there all night. Some people thought spirits interfered with the signals.

  He handed his phone to the man. “Try to call both places. And wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Niwa was in the kitchen, looking for insulin in the refrigerator when Skelly banged through the front door. He stopped dead at the blackening stain on the worn carpet.

  “Ah, shit, man.” Skelly’s voice broke.

  “I told you to wait in the car.” Niwa had had trouble skirting the stain, too. It looked bigger than it had when Jenny was lying on it.

  “I wanted to tell you…shit, man.” Skelly turned and let the door slam behind him.

  A few minutes later, Niwa was out at the car. There had been a small carton of insulin vials in the refrigerator, with one vial missing. Niwa found it, empty, in the trash. He also checked the boy’s bedroom, which was even messier than Haley’s. Niwa counted four sets of Hanes tighty whities, five T-shirts, dirty, and two pairs of cargo shorts on the floor. The bed was unmade and cold; the small dresser’s few drawers were filled with what looked like clean socks and underwear, a few sets of faded shorts and shirts. It was hard to tell, but Niwa didn’t think Luke had stopped by the house. If he was careful enough to carry extra food, he would have taken the other insulin vials, wouldn’t he?

  Niwa was concerned that Luke might be outside at that moment, but wouldn’t come in if he suspected someone was waiting for him. Niwa didn’t want to scare the kid off, because Niwa’s top priority was for the boy to get his insulin. Second on the list would be to convince him to come back to the hospital. According to Dr. Peterson, Luke knew how to give himself the shots, but he was too recently diagnosed and his doses too variable for him to know if he was getting the right amount. If he got dizzy or disoriented, his judgment regarding his doses would fail, too.

  Niwa left a note under a magnet on the refrigerator door. “Call me. You’re safe with us.” He signed it Uncle Dave, Aunty Caroline, and Haley, and then plodded back out to the car with a prayer for the boy in his heart.

  Skelly was leaning against the side of the car, head cradled in folded arms. He looked up when he heard Niwa’s footsteps on the drive.

  “Did he come home?” Skelly asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it. You see anyone hanging around?”

  “No, and I watched.” Skelly opened the door and got in the car. He handed Niwa’s phone back. “No one answers at the office. I got enough of a signal to get Helene, and no one’s gone to our house. So far, anyway.”

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to Skelly’s office. “Who closed this afternoon?”

  “Connor didn’t come in today.” Skelly’s tone was flat. “I closed around three to pick up some folks at the airport and take them to the Ranch. I went straight to the game from there.”

  “Tanner was already at the ball park?”

  “I told you he left a message, right?” Skelly sounded as if the day had finally gotten to him. “That’s where I met him.”

  The men got out of the car and made their way along the uneven paving stones to the door. The moon was nearly full and cast deep shadows that made the path hard to navigate. The only sound was the mournful lowing of two buffos competing for a mate in a nearby marsh.

  Niwa thought the big toads were repulsive, but refrained from saying so. He illuminated his Casio and checked the time, which was a couple minutes to ten. “Pretty quiet around here.”

  “Yeah, maybe they’re asleep already.” Skelly banged on the door. “If he’s here, I don’t want to startle him.” He looked at Niwa. “He was in a state when he left the hospital.”

  “What do you mean?” Niwa figured it was time he found out more about Tanner’s illness and temperament. Caroline had mentioned a breakdown; Niwa wondered how frequently those occurred, and exactly what happened. When he’d given Tanner the ride to Skelly’s office, which seemed like longer ago than just Thursday, Tanner had seemed preoccupied with his son, but his overall behavior had seemed calm and rational.

  Skelly shrugged. “Mostly, he talks to himself.” He looked at Niwa as he dug in his pocket for his key. “I do that too, but I hope I don’t sound like I’m having a conversation with someone in my head. He can get pretty excited about stuff.”

  “I’d get excited, too, if my sick son was missing from the hospital.”

  Skelly got the door unlocked. “Yeah, but you probably wouldn’t hop around, break into a dripping sweat, and then run away.”

  He stopped inside the door. “Tanner, Luke, you guys here? It’s me, Skelly.” No one answered. “He can’t help it, though. It’s a chemical thing. Tanner, you here?”

  Niwa reached behind and found the light switch. The overhead brightness made them both blink. The room looked like an empty office, waiting for the next day to begin, nothing else.

  “Crap,” muttered Skelly. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here.”

  Niwa felt like crap, or worse. Skelly clomped around the corner, into what Niwa presumed was the kitchen area of the small, office-adapted apartment. Niwa made his way to the desk, where he hoped against hope to see a note, even the blinking light on the answering machine, telling them that a message waited. Skelly ran a fairly neat office, though, and the desk was clear of papers. The answering machine sat quiet and uncommunicative.

  “Hey, Dave. C’mere.”

  Niw
a hurried toward the sound of Skelly’s voice. “What’s up?”

  “Someone broke the window over the sink. I know I latched it when I closed up for the night. And he cut himself.” He pointed out a couple pinkish droplets in the sink to Niwa, then turned to open the refrigerator door. “Luke’s insulin is gone.”

  Thank God, it looked like the kid might have been there. “Does he know where you hide the key?” Niwa felt upbeat for the second time that day, considering Haley’s game was the first time.

  Skelly scrunched his face in thought. “I don’t think so.” He walked out of the kitchen, passed through the office and out the front door, where Niwa could hear the clunk of stone. He got there in time to see Skelly let go of one of the herb pots that lined the paving stones and move to another one.

  “It’s supposed to be under the rosemary,” Skelly said. “Tanner always put it back in the same place.”

  “So what are you thinking?” Skelly’s search was giving Niwa bad vibes. His mood was starting to plummet again.

  “A couple of days ago Connor got mad at Tanner for using the apartment.”

  “Are you telling me Connor took the key?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But it looks like Luke broke in,” Niwa said. “Right?”

  “I’ve got to check something.” Skelly hurried back inside, with Niwa lumbering behind. He went straight to a cupboard that held five or six coffee mugs and a few mismatched plates and bowls.

  “Fuck.”

  A wave of fatigue swept over Niwa that threatened to collapse his legs. “Now what?”

  “Tanner’s pills are gone, too.”

  “So maybe Tanner took ’em.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Skelly didn’t sound like he believed it.

  “You think Connor took their meds?”

  “I’ve got to talk to him.”

  “Yes, you do. Right now.” Niwa rubbed at the pain that shot through his belly.

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea,” Skelly said softly. “If I want to get the truth, I need to wait for him to have his, uh, medication and some coffee.”