by Toby Neal
“No. I can still work tomorrow.”
Her partner was silent. She pictured him rubbing his lips beneath the bristling mustache, his forehead knit. He sighed. “Lei, seriously. You gotta let go. The world will go on without you for a couple of weeks.”
“I feel bad leaving the case when it’s just heating up again, leaving you to deal with everything.” Lei couldn’t help noticing the shining golden light of sunset gilding the galleons of cumulous cloud scudding over the ocean. Even in the most ordinary moments, Maui was an ever-changing visual feast.
“What, you don’t trust me to handle the case?” Pono had injected hardness into his bass voice.
“I do trust you. You know I do. It’s not that.” Lei squeezed the medallion at her throat.
“What is it, then?”
“I’m—nervous. Working helps me.”
“Well, tough. Take a Xanax.”
“I’ll be in to the hospital to interview the poacher with you before I pick up Sophie and Marcella at the airport.”
“Would you just pick up your girlfriends in the morning, and let me handle things for once?”
He clicked off abruptly, but Lei knew behind the gruffness he was just trying to help her. Too bad. She was going to talk to that victim, and Pono could be pissy about it all he wanted.
Lei pulled into her driveway and rolled the gate shut behind her. The little cottage was dark and cool under its shading trees, empty and silent but for her dog’s ecstatic greeting. She missed Stevens with a sudden and terrible longing, but she resisted calling him.
She’d made her bed, and now she’d lie in it—alone.
Chapter Fourteen
Lei sat down on one of the molded plastic chairs next to the hospital bed with Pono standing behind her. The victim from Haleakala was propped against pillows, his face bleached-looking in the overhead fluorescent lights, eyes closed. The nurse, checking his pulse, frowned at them. “I don’t think he speaks English.”
“Have you been able to determine what language he does speak?” Lei asked.
“No, but I don’t think he understands our questions.” The woman tweaked the handcuff on the man’s wrist. “He’s weak from loss of blood and he’s on a ton of medication. Are you sure this is necessary?”
“We need to make sure he doesn’t escape.”
“Well, he’s not going anywhere.” She eyed them once more, gave an audible sniff, and left. Lei took out a small handheld voice recorder and turned it on. She stated the location and names of all present, including the name on the man’s passport.
She shook the wounded man’s arm. “Wake up.”
Several shakes later, the man opened his eyes. Focusing on them, he burst into a spate of foreign language that Lei was pretty sure was Chinese.
“Do you speak English? We need to find out who shot you,” Lei said, slowing her words down.
“I never see,” the man said, his words heavily accented. “Why I am…?” He seemed to grope for words and shook the handcuff.
“We need to find out more about your situation. Do you speak Mandarin?”
The man nodded.
“What is your name?”
“Chen Xiaoping,” the man said. Lei thought that sounded dimly like the name on his passport. She had him repeat it, and she spelled the words out phonetically in her notebook.
“I will be back with a translator to interview you further,” Pono said. “What were you doing in Waikamoi? On the mountain?”
The man looked down, folded his lips, and shook his head.
“Who were you catching the birds for?” Lei caught his eye, made a fluttering gesture with her hands. “Who? The birds?”
Now the man lay back and shut his eyes—and though Lei shook his arm, he was done talking.
She handed Pono her notes out in the hall. “Hope you can find out more with a translator. Seems like a Chinese national to me. Wonder what you’ll find in his room.”
“Probably a pile of fake IDs,” Pono said, disgustedly. “I hope he’s the last poacher we find on the mountain.”
Lei pulled the Tacoma up to the curb outside the Kahului Airport for the second time in two days. Marcella Scott and Sophie Ang stood on the sidewalk, each so striking they caused heads to turn. Marcella wore a clingy wrap dress splashed with scarlet poppies and little heeled gold sandals. She waved, large brown eyes brightening at the sight of Lei, long chocolate hair tossing in the Maui wind.
Sophie Ang was a tall, toned foil to Marcella’s feminine glory. Sophie’s regal cropped head and sculpted shoulders were set off by a crisp white tank the tech agent wore with a pair of slim black pants and ballet flats. The only feminine touch Sophie wore were baroque pearls the size of cherries dangling from her ears, drawing the eye to lustrous golden-brown skin.
Lei felt frizzy and plain in comparison, but she shoved those feelings aside, excited to see her friends. She jumped out of the truck. “Welcome to Maui! Can’t believe you both made it over.”
“Ken will be here tomorrow for the wedding,” Marcella said, referring to Lei’s former partner in the FBI, as they hugged. “Said he wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good. Throw your stuff in the back of the truck. I want to take you for a drive to see where my latest case is. Marcella, you’re going to have to change.”
“That’s what I told her,” Sophie said.
“Well, hell.” Marcella looked around the busy airport, hands on her hips. “Should I change here?”
“No. We’ve got to go to my fitting next. You can change there.”
They drove to Ohana Wedding Design in Wailuku. Estelle, the designer, and Marcella greeted each other with cries and cheek kisses like long-lost friends, while Lei and Sophie exchanged a nervous glance—but both of her friends exclaimed when Lei stood on the little dais in the dress. Estelle buzzed around tweaking, but the gown needed very little adjusting, and Marcella assured Estelle they’d pick it up tomorrow morning.
It wasn’t long before they were headed up the mountain. “You aren’t taking us up here to pick our brains for your investigation, are you?” Marcella asked, having changed into jeans and running shoes. “Because I’m pretty sure you should be on vacation as of now, and I’m in no mood to tromp around looking for clues for your case. I’d rather have a mimosa on that deck at Stevens’s apartment and look at the ocean.”
“I have no ulterior motives,” Lei said. “I just want to show my two friends the beauty of a place I wish I’d seen before it became a crime scene. We can’t go into the preserve, but I can show you Hosmer’s Grove and the birds we’re fighting for, at least.” She described the birds and their habitat, how beautiful it was.
Sophie chimed in from the backseat, “Yes, until you called and asked me to put an alert out for someone poaching these birds, I wasn’t even aware of them. Why don’t we see them at lower elevations?”
“Avian malaria was brought in by nonnative birds, and it’s carried by mosquitoes. When these native birds are bit by mosquitoes, they die. They haven’t had time to develop immunity to the malaria before they’re being wiped out. They can only survive at the elevations where there are no mosquitoes.”
“So birds like cardinals, mynahs, and doves that we see all the time are immune to malaria?” Sophie asked.
“That’s right.” The women drove on in silence. Marcella and Sophie craned to look down the sweeping grandeur of the flank of Haleakala to the narrow waist of the island, where the ocean gleamed visible on both sides of the figure-eight shape of two volcanic ranges.
“This island is really something,” Marcella said. “I thought Oahu was pretty, but wow.”
“Maui has these vistas,” Lei said. “Having lived on the Big Island, Kaua`i, Oahu, and now here, I can tell you each island has unique features to fall in love with.”
“I’d like to try some of my run hiking here,” Sophie said. “I’ve gotten into long distance outdoor running this last year, and I found a club that focuses on using the hiking trails. I bet t
here are some great places to run here.”
“Absolutely.” Lei glanced back at Sophie’s face—her friend’s features reminded Lei of the famous head of Nefertiti sculpture. She and Sophie had been beginning a friendship when Lei decided to leave the FBI to come back to Maui, and Lei felt like they’d never had time to really get to know each other. “Maybe you could come spend a weekend with us, and I’ll take you on some long runs. Keiki would love it. She hasn’t been getting enough exercise lately.”
“After the wedding,” Marcella said. “And the honeymoon. And after all of your cases wrap up…”
“Yeah, those just keep coming.” Lei halted the truck at the entry booth and showed her park pass, and they drove in, turning left onto the short drive to Hosmer’s Grove. “I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to be gone a whole ten days.”
Marcella leered. “I’m pretty sure Stevens has plans to keep your mind off dead bodies.”
Lei grinned back. “I know he wants to try.”
“When am I going to see him? Gotta give him my condolences.”
Lei pulled the truck into a parking stall. A short path wound through eucalyptus trees and tall yellow-blossomed mamane bushes directly ahead of them. “At the wedding.”
Something in her voice must have made Marcella suspicious, because she frowned, turning to Lei. “Something wrong? You’ve got the runaway bride reputation now. I’m sure he’s nervous.”
“Not as nervous as I am.” Lei jumped out of the truck and slammed the door. “Trail’s through here.” She didn’t give Marcella time to quiz her any further, instead forging out into the underbrush.
Sophie didn’t let her get away. The woman’s long legs easily kept stride with Lei.
“So where are these famous birds?” Sophie asked. The hike was short, ending in a gulch overlook filled with ferns, sandalwood, and blossoming ohia trees. Lei held a finger to her lips as Marcella crashed through branches behind them, muttering.
“See?” Lei whispered, pointing to the showy i`iwi hopping its feeding pattern over a nearby ohia tree. They stayed a half hour or so and spotted a green `amakihi and two bright red, short-beaked `apapane. Sitting on the bench, observing the peaceful beauty of the birds in their native habitat, Lei could see the magic of the place casting its spell on her friends. They walked back to her truck in silence, and in the parking lot, Lei frowned, spotting Takama’s navy-blue Ford with its distinctive pipe racks.
“Hey. Ranger Takama’s here. He’s been helping with the case. Maybe he’ll be able to let us into the preserve.” Lei walked briskly to the ranger’s truck, looking around. Takama was nowhere in sight. Lei leaned on the truck and dug her phone out of her pocket. She’d inputted Takama’s number at the beginning of the case, and as she scrolled through her contacts, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye—a curved shape in the space behind Takama’s seat. Pressing his number and hoping there was cell service, she swiveled to cup her hand, cutting the glare so she could see into the truck’s window—and what she saw made her tighten her grip on the phone.
“Hello?” Takama’s voice sounded tinny.
“Ranger Takama? This is Lieutenant Texeira. Happened to be up here at Hosmer’s Grove and your truck is here—are you nearby?”
“I’m about five minutes away. Would love an update on the case.”
“Of course,” Lei said smoothly. “I’ll be waiting by your truck.”
She hit Off and turned to Marcella and Ang. “What do you see behind his seat?”
Marcella leaned in, looked. “A bow. One of those fancy ones.”
“Yeah. That’s what we think was used to shoot our poachers.”
The three law enforcement officers were lined up against Takama’s truck when he appeared, carrying a bag of litter, a backpack, and some tools. He unlocked the gate and came toward them. “What brings you up here, Lieutenant Texeira?”
“Recreation, actually,” Lei said, gesturing to her casual jeans. “These are my friends, Agents Scott and Ang of the FBI.”
“Are you working the case as well?” Takama asked them, slinging his bag of trash into the back of the truck.
“Informal consult,” Marcella said.
“The victim of yesterday’s shooting is in stable condition in the hospital,” Lei said. “Speaking of, I notice you have a compound bow in your vehicle.”
Takama carried himself with the straight back of a much younger man, and his strength was evident as he unloaded the shovel, machete, and backpack he’d been carrying into the back of the truck. He turned to her, his dark eyes affronted. “Yes. What of it? We all use these weapons to bring down ungulates when we can.”
“You know a bow is the murder weapon. I’d like your permission to check this one, rule it out.”
Takama appeared to be struggling with his temper. His lips were tight, brows furrowed, but he inclined his head. “Arrows, too?”
“Please.”
She took the weapon, holding it with a napkin Takama gave her. Marcella took the arrows in their plastic case. “Thank you. I just want to rule you out as a suspect. Who else of the Park Service staff has a compound bow?”
“Pretty much everyone.”
Lei shook her head. “We really missed the boat on this. I wish you’d said something.” Takama just glared, and she realized it was probably a stretch that he would offer up his Park Service colleagues for investigation. “What about the Hawaiian Bird Conservatory people?”
“I think that’s your job to figure out,” Takama said, getting into his truck and slamming the door. He pulled out abruptly, leaving her holding the bow.
The bow was bulky, weighing only about three pounds as she hefted it, made of black carbon fiber with an architectural look. A broad spread of pulleys, molded grip, and flexible cords gave the bow its power. She had to resist the urge to cock it, just to experience how it would feel to aim.
Lei read the logo on the bow: “BowTech. I wonder how much these run.”
“I think that brand’s between four and six hundred dollars,” Sophie said. “Nice rig.”
“You ever do any shooting with these?” Lei asked her as they walked back to her truck.
“Yes. I like to be as familiar as possible with a variety of weapons,” Sophie said, with the precise understatement that was such a part of her personality.
“You’d better call Pono,” Marcella said as they got into Lei’s truck. “Looks like you guys missed a major lead here, and you’re off the case as of now—we have girl time planned this evening. The three of us are going to the Grand Wailea Spa in lieu of a bachelorette party.”
“Dammit on missing this lead,” Lei said, speed-dialing Pono after stowing the bow behind the seats. She got ahold of her partner, explaining about obtaining Takama’s bow as she drove.
“I’ll drop it by the lab for analysis,” she told him. “But you’ll have to subpoena all the bows and arrows from the Hawaiian Bird Conservatory staff and volunteers. I don’t know why we didn’t realize so many of them might have these weapons.”
Pono cursed. “I’ll get things rolling, but the guys and I are taking Stevens bowling for his bachelor party. I won’t be hanging out in the lab for the next few days.”
“Okay. Well, we need time to get the names and subpoenas anyway.”
“We nothing! You have bride duties now! Get to it!” Her partner hung up on her, the second time in two days.
“I’m forbidden to do anything more on the case,” Lei told the agents.
“I told you that,” Marcella said. “We’re spa bound. The only person I know who needs a massage more than you is Sophie.”
Lei swung by the station and submitted the bow and arrows to the evidence clerk. Waiting for Clarice to fill out the inventory slip, Lei looked down at her phone, thinking of Stevens, worried he hadn’t called by now. She wondered if he was waiting for her to do something, decided that was probably it—after all, she’d been the one to ask for “space.” She texted: I love you. Can’t wait t
o marry you tomorrow.
Waited a long moment. No response.
“All set,” Clarice said, and hit Enter on her computer, peering at Lei over her glasses. “Here’s a little something for you and Stevens.” She slid a square card envelope over to Lei. “I’m sorry I can’t make it to the wedding; I’m working, as usual.”
“Wow, Clarice,” Lei said, feeling her cheeks warm as she took the card. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“Have fun,” the clerk said, and winked broadly. “I mean, have a lot of fun.”
Lei’s face was still hot when they got on the road to Wailea for a night of feminine debauchery. Stevens still hadn’t texted back.
Chapter Fifteen
Lei woke up the next morning by unwilling degrees, glad the wedding didn’t begin until four p.m.
Last day as a single woman.
She was glad she’d resisted Marcella and Aunty Rosario’s pleadings to join them overnight at the mansion—she wanted a little time alone.
Keiki, alert for any stirrings, came up to whine in Lei’s face, threatening to lick her if she wasn’t let out. Lei swung her legs to the side of the bed, getting out and sliding her arms into the coral silk robe Stevens had given her a few months ago, saying, “I love the way this color makes your skin look.” Remembering that moment made her smile, but when she checked her phone, plugged in by the bed, he still hadn’t texted her. She frowned, picked it up, and called, needing to hear his voice. It went straight to voice mail.
“Hi, Michael. I just wondered if you got my text. Because—I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you today. Call me when you get this, please. I’m nervous.” Lei hung up, setting the phone down, feeling anxiety rise up, strangling her. She thumped her chest to knock it loose.
She needed a run.
Lei bundled her hair into a rubber band and pulled on her running clothes. Keiki, seeing these signs, whimpered with eagerness, hind end gyrating and toenails clicking. Lei slid the phone into the pocket of her shorts.
