by Toby Neal
“Deal,” Lei said. “Thanks, Lieutenant.” She closed the phone, snapped her fingers for Keiki, and took the truck out onto the road toward Volcano Park.
She couldn’t be home when Stevens came by—he’d never accept just a phone call to break things off.
Chapter Forty-Four
Lei ran down the narrow path along the crater, Keiki ahead of her, the dog’s ears laid back. She’d chosen the lush side of the park where massive fern trees arched over the trail winding along the cliff’s edge. The north side of the volcano caught rain, and a primordial jungle of ohia trees, wild ginger, and hundreds of ferns blanketed the slopes while the south side stretched away in miles of raw black lava. Knobbed guava roots reached up to tangle her feet, and off to the right the caldera steamed gently, a vast black moonscape hundreds of feet below the path.
The sheer scope of the scenery failed to distract her today.
The brittle calm from cutting herself had evaporated halfway to the Park. Her mind churned with nauseating memories she couldn’t stifle. Over and over again Kwon’s face loomed, his pupils darkening her vision as she remembered and felt again all the ways he’d raped her.
The drop off the massive cliff she ran along seemed to pull at her, an almost magnetic tug. Her agony of self loathing, her rage, her dim future as Damaged Goods could be over. How easy would it be to just take a running leap out into space? She pictured a cartwheeling fall, the vast distance to the bottom of the crater more than high enough to make sure the jump was fatal. Her mind played the jump again and again as her body ran on autopilot.
Lei increased her speed, having to concentrate fully on the treacherous ground, the emptiness of total effort finally extinguishing the fantasies. She ran all out, oblivious to the exotic beauty of the setting.
God, help me. I can’t take much more of this, she thought. The prayer echoed in her pulse. God help me, God help me.
Keiki began to lag, her tongue lolling. Lei pulled up at a vista area bordered by the service road, resting her hands on her knees as she caught her breath, looking out over the drop behind the low steel safety barrier, but no longer feeling that murderous pull so strongly toward the edge. With a pang of guilt, she wondered what would happen to her dog if she were gone. Keiki quested through the long grass for moisture, lapping at dewdrops.
“Sorry, baby,” Lei panted. “I have a drink for you.” She took a water bottle out of the pocket of her windbreaker, now tied around her waist. She poured water into her palm, holding it for the big dog to drink.
The shoulder holster was hot and itchy. She unbuckled it and laid it on a picnic table, sat on the table with her feet on the bench and let the wind off the caldera cool her face.
She noticed the sweet piercing song of the apapane at last, the rare, red honeycreeper that called the park home. She looked across the vast expanse of the volcano to the distant rim. A steam vent exhaled vapor that blew off the edge in a falling cloud. The sky arched overhead, a dome of soothing blue. All was right with the world.
She let go of Keiki’s leash, letting the dog nose through the grass and flop down to rest after a good roll. She lay down on the picnic table, covering her eyes with her good arm. The vigorous exercise had finally broken through the turmoil of her mind.
A different memory came to her, a line from the Bible that she had read over and over in the dingy hotel rooms of her life with her mother, as if repetition would help her understand: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God ...And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not comprehend it.
Did that mean she was in darkness, because she didn’t understand? But I think God is helping me anyway. I have to remember exercising works better than cutting myself ...She sat up, sighing. Maybe it was time to make a new card that would help her remember.
A charcoal Toyota truck with heavily tinted windows rolled toward them, cruising slowly along the narrow blacktopped road. Lei sat up, reaching for the leash as Keiki stood, her ears pricked. The truck drew abreast of them, stopped. She tensed as the mirrored window rolled down.
This couldn’t be good.
She saw a muted gleam of sunlight off a matte black metal surface, and launched herself off the table onto the ground.
“Keiki! Down!”
Lei saw the muzzle flash, heard the blast, and her dog yelped, twisting in the air as she fell.
“No!” Lei screamed. “Keiki, no!” Her ears rang from the shot, a jolt of terror and shock blasting through her system.
She reached up and caught the dangling strap of the holster, yanked it down into the grass beside her. The vehicle’s door opened, a leg stepped out. She pulled her gun, and hunkered down in a slight depression beneath the picnic table. The wide crossbar blocked her view.
“Lei, come out.” He knew her name.
She sighted around the crossbar and fired, hitting the jeans-clad leg. The man shrieked, falling back into the truck. She crawled forward, braced her elbows on the ground for another shot. The shooter’s curses were cut off as he slammed the door. The engine revved, and the Toyota began to pull away.
She surged up from the grass, aiming for the front and side tires. They blew out with a satisfying boom. The truck ground into a turn. She heard the thunder of more shots fired back at her, but stood square, aiming for the other back tire. She blew it.
The Toyota kept going. She aimed for where the driver’s head would be. The reflective back windshield broke inward, a grapefruit-sized hole, and the vehicle jerked to a halt.
She dropped flat again, belly-crawling to Keiki. The dog raised her head and whimpered. A bloody hole showed where the bullet had entered her upper chest and blown out the shattered shoulder in a much bigger crater, leaving a long oozing score down her side. Blood welled from the exit wound.
“It’s okay, girl. I think you’re gonna make it if we can get out of here,” Lei whispered, laying her windbreaker over the wound and leaning on it. Keiki writhed but lay still as Lei brought her gun up again, sighting on the stalled vehicle.
“Drop your weapon and come out with your hands up,” she bellowed, “and I promise I won’t kill you.”
“Screw you, bitch!” came from the truck, followed by more shots fired in her direction.
She crawled backward behind the picnic table, dragging Keiki by the hind legs. The dog let her, only whining a little as Lei situated them in the slight decline in the ground beneath the table. In one quick heave she stood up and flipped the table on its side facing the car. Shots fired, and this time splinters gouged Lei’s shoulder as a bullet buried itself in the wood inches away.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She turned her head to look and felt her stomach lurch at the same time as pain hit like a red-hot poker. A spray of splinters stuck up like porcupine quills from her left shoulder.
She sucked a few breaths, getting the pain under control, and peeked around the table. She looked at the spot on the wood where the bullet had gone in. It hadn’t made it all the way through the thick timber. The benches’ angle threw the tabletop forward, but she was still hidden behind it.
She hunkered back down, putting pressure on Keiki’s wound again. They’d be safe for the moment. She dug the cell phone out of the blood-soaked windbreaker. Thumbed it open and dialed 911. Reception was always iffy in the park, but the bars lit up. She identified herself, called for backup and an ambulance.
“Sorry, Officer Texeira, help’s about ten minutes away,” the operator said. “We’ll notify the park service and maybe they can get there sooner. Take cover and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“Keiki, we’re okay,” she whispered in the dog’s ear, closing the phone on the operator’s protests to keep the line open. “Hang in there, baby.”
The Toyota started up again. She stood up in a squat behind the table, trying to see what he was doing, her weapon out. There was only one operational tire left, but he could still get far enough away on the rims to escape on
foot. The truck rolled forward, the blown tires rumbling and flapping against the road.
He wasn’t going to shoot her dog and get away with it—it was that simple. She’d only used up five of the Glock’s fifteen rounds.
She jumped up and dodged out from behind the table, running bent over, weaving. A wild shot blew up gravel that stung her legs as the Toyota rumbled away. She shot out the remaining tire but it kept going, picking up speed. She followed in an all-out run now and blasted the rest of the clip into the back of the cab.
This time when the truck stopped, the horn sounded, one long mournful blast.
She crouched, came along the driver’s side. Grabbed the handle, popped the door.
“Come out with your hands up and I won’t shoot!”
The driver was slumped against the door and, as it opened, he tipped out, falling out of the truck facedown. She recognized the back of his head, sleek as an otter’s pelt. A bullet wound bled from the center of his spine.
She hauled him all the way out into the road by his armpits. He was alive, and blinked up at her, hazel eyes confused.
Ray Solomon.
Nothing surprised her anymore.
“Lei. I can’t feel anything. I can’t move my legs.”
“Goddamn it Ray, I thought you were a friend!” She sat down next to him. He looked bad, his complexion gray and greasy, his body limp.
“Am I dying? I heard you feel cold when you’re dying. I don’t feel cold. I can’t feel anything.”
“You might be dying, I don’t know. What the hell is going on?”
“We’re Changs,” he said. “Your old man killed our old man, and me and Anela thought we’d get him back, prove ourselves to Healani and the captains. I was never going to qualify for the police department…” His voice trailed off as the sound of sirens got louder.
“Wake up. Who else was in on this? Who is ‘Anela’? Come on, confession of a dying man and all that.” She slapped his cheek.
He’d passed out. She kicked away his Glock, fallen beside him, and got up and hurried back to Keiki. She was leaning on the wound when the park service, followed by response vehicles, rolled up.
She waved and yelled, “Priority first aid over here!”
The paramedics ran over with their bags. When they saw the fallen was a dog, they turned to leave. Lei pulled the empty Glock.
“Help my dog. Now.”
Detective Ross, getting out of his unmarked Bronco and responding to one of her emergencies yet again, waved one of the paramedics away and directed the other.
“Texeira’s in shock. She didn’t mean it. Help the dog, please. Lei, put the gun away, for crying out loud.”
The paramedic did first aid as best he could, and when the ambulances loaded up, they were carrying two stretchers.
Stevens pulled up with Pono in the next wave of responders. He ran over to where Lei sat on the righted picnic table talking to Ross and Nagata, who’d put the two Glocks into evidence bags for Ballistics.
“Lei!” he scooped her into a hug, blood and all. She winced at the pain from the splinters in her shoulder and pushed him away.
“I’m okay.” She saw the blood drain out of his face as he stepped back, obviously remembering she’d broken up with him.
“I was coming to talk to you at your house when I heard about it on the radio. How did this happen?”
“Remember I told you about the guy from my class and the gun range acting weird? He just rolled up on us and started shooting.”
He tried to get Lei to look at him, moving to stand in her sightline—she wouldn’t.
“I’m thinking he’s been in on the stalking, maybe from the beginning.” She noticed the alert gaze of Detective Ross and turned away. “Leave me alone.”
“I need to take you in for an interview,” Ross said. “Come this way.”
The lanky detective gave her some support under the elbow as she staggered, exhausted. He let her sit up front in the Bronco as they headed out. She watched Stevens getting smaller in the rearview mirror as they drove away.
Chapter Forty-Five
Lei gave her statement in one of the interrogation rooms, accompanied by her union rep, a Budda-like Indian named Vishka. After a strenuous hour or two Ross and Nagata dismissed her to go speak to Lieutenant Ohale.
“He’s been observing,” Ross said in an aside as she left. He gave her good shoulder a kindly pat. “Hang in there. We’re going to wrap this up soon.”
Lieutenant Ohale was pacing his office. She didn’t remember seeing him move that fast before. He pulled her in and shut the door.
“I’ve been pestered by your partner and Stevens every ten minutes. Thank God Ross and Nagata are done interviewing you so they can give their statements.”
“Sorry for all the hassles,” Lei said. “Can I sit down? I don’t feel too good.”
A fine trembling wracked her extremities. She’d only let the paramedics remove the splinters after she was sure Keiki was cared for, and their extraction had been excruciating. She was still in clammy running clothes, splattered with blood from various sources. Ohale gestured to one of the padded plastic chairs in front of his desk and she fell into it, wrapping arms around herself.
“So why didn’t you come to me with this Chang conspiracy thing?” he said, still pacing. “The Changs are a big problem we’ve been trying to get a grip on for years, and there might have been something in your case we could use to nail them.”
“To be honest, Lieutenant, I didn’t take my dad’s tip seriously.” Plus, I was too busy having a nervous breakdown to think straight.
“Dammit, this situation deserves the full attention of the department. You helped crack the Mohuli`i case at considerable personal expense, and I appreciate the way you’ve got yourself out of some deep shibai. Taking down some Chang connections might also help with the bad PR we’ve had from the Ito mess.”
“Something new happened with the last two stalker letters.” She took a deep breath and told him about Charlie Kwon, and the only ‘Anela’ she knew, the waitress working for her aunt’s restaurant. “Someone knows a lot more about me than just my cell phone number. Can I call my aunt? She’s the only other person that knows about the molester, and I haven’t heard from her since she went back to California.”
She took a few minutes to call Aunty Rosario, verifying that she didn’t know anything about Charlie Kwon’s whereabouts and that Anela Ka`awai still worked at the restaurant. Rosario hadn’t talked to anyone about Lei’s sexual abuse except the social services worker and the therapists she sent Lei to, and no names had been mentioned.
“But I told you Momi knows, though,” Aunty finally said. “I don’t know, she might have told someone. Now put that police Lieutenant on cuz I like talk to him.”
Lieutenant Ohale got on the line. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as Rosario gave him a piece of her mind in pidgin. When he was able to get a word in he told her that it looked like they were finally going to be able to solve Lei’s stalking case and the full resources of the department were behind the investigation.
“I see where you get your fighting spirit,” he said, handing her the phone at last. “Stevens is going to take you home.”
“Okay,” Lei said, and decided not to push her luck by asking for someone other than Stevens. Lieutenant Ohale walked her out to the SUV, which Stevens had idling in the parking lot. She got in and they sat in awkward silence for the drive across town.
“Can you turn off the AC?” Shivering, she plucked the stiffening, bloody shirt away from her body. “I can’t wait to get a shower.”
Stevens didn’t try to talk to her; just turned on the heater full blast.
They pulled into her driveway and Lei ran in, punched in the code and hurried to the bathroom. She showered until her fingertips were pruney and the hot water was running cold.
She eventually had to come out, toweling her hair and wrapped in the old kimono.
“Thanks for gi
ving me a ride home.” She’d put the clothes she’d been wearing into a couple of Ziploc bags for the crime techs and she set those by the door.
“No problem.” He was putting some food away in the fridge. She went to the couch and wrapped herself in the crocheted afghan Aunty Rosario had made. She wondered if she’d ever feel warm again.
“Did you hear about Ray Solomon?” she asked. Nagata had told her he was paralyzed, his spinal cord severed.
“Yeah.”
“I wonder if he would rather have died,” she said thoughtfully. “I think I would.”
“He should have known better. If he’d surrendered when you told him to he’d still be able to wiggle his toes. I’m making some soup—want some?”
“Yes, please.” Her stomach rumbled, as if hearing the conversation. She relaxed a little. It seemed like he wasn’t going to talk about their breakup. “Has anyone figured out what Ray’s relationship is with the Changs? He told me he was a Chang.”
He stirred the soup on the stove. It smelled delicious and her stomach rumbled again.
“Yeah. Soon as you told them that Ross and Nagata started digging. Ross told me he’s the illegitimate son of Terry “Hatchet” Chang. He was raised by his mother’s relatives and took their name in California.”
“I knew he grew up in California with relatives. No wonder he never wanted to talk about it.”
“Chang was quite the ladies’ man. He had four children with Healani, who are all grown and up to no good here in Hawaii, but scattered around California are several children by other women, including someone you put the Lieutenant onto.” He put down the spoon, consulted a spiral notepad. “Anela Ka`awai.”
“Anela!” Lei exclaimed. “She works at Aunty Rosario’s restaurant—she’s a waitress there. She must be the connection to Charlie Kwon—she must’ve got his name out of Rosario or Momi somehow, been spying on me. I bet she’s the one who sent the panties, too, since Aunty gave them to me for Christmas.”
