Blood Orchids (18 page)

Chapter 35

The bus bound for Halawa Prison on Oahu was a huge Greyhound, and Lei felt like she was in an ocean liner, gliding and swaying far above mere mortals fighting traffic in the narrow double lanes below. She snuggled into her comfortable seat, looking out the window as steep jungled slopes streamed by. She’d got going early that morning, flying out of the Big Island to Oahu, her stomach knotting every time she thought of meeting her father. She pulled the photo her aunt had given her out of her pocket.

In it her father smiled a handsome, square-jawed smile. A toddler Lei sat on his shoulders, her hands buried in his dark curly hair, her grin as big as the moon.

“I don’t have anything more recent,” her aunt had said. “I couldn’t stand to take a picture of him in that orange jumpsuit. But he’s aged, honey. Prison life hasn’t been that kind.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Lei whispered, touching his face. She slid the photo back in her pocket and looked back out the window. According to her aunt, he’d been recently transferred to Halawa from Lompoc in California, with another year on his sentence.

Her phone rang, vibrating against her side. She pulled it out, flipping it open as she looked at the plaque attached to the seat in front of her: N
O
C
ELL
P
HONES
.

“Hello?” she whispered.

“Lei?”

“Yes? Who is this?” she flipped the phone over to see the screen ID:
Unavailable.

“Me. Your special friend.”

Lei sucked in her breath, held it. Every hair on her body stood on end. The voice was loud but muffled. She couldn’t tell gender, age, anything.

“How did you get this number?”

“That doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that I haven’t forgotten you.”

“I haven’t forgotten you, either,” Lei said, her whisper vibrating with rage. “I’m going to find you and seriously fuck you up.”

A long pause.

“I hope so.” Then laughter, a low rumbling chuckle. “I like a challenge, Lei.”

Click. Dead air.

Lei snapped the phone shut and pressed the power button to turn it off. She stood up and stepped into the aisle, scanning the people in their seats for any unusual activity. There were only a few other passengers, hunched over portable video games, or tucked dozing into corners. She walked to the back of the bus and into the closet-like restroom and locked the door.

She took some relaxation breaths. Splashed water on her face and hands. Did a nervous pee. Washed her hands again. Splashed water again. Nothing was helping to diffuse the adrenaline that had pumped into her system. She went out, scanned the seats again. No activity. She walked down the aisle, touching a few seat backs for balance as the bus swayed. She walked back and forth a few more times until her heart rate was back to normal and the trembling of her legs had calmed. She sat back in her seat and took a few more relaxation breaths, longing for the familiar weight of the Glock, which she’d left at home due to airport hassles. All she had with her was the black lava stone from Mary’s memorial.

She rubbed it, and then flipped open her phone and texted Stevens:

♦ Stalker called my cell. Can you trace my phone activity? Anything new your end?

She’d called him and Pono the night before to let them know about her plans to go to Oahu, and he hadn’t had any more overtime authorized for her Saturday so she’d gone ahead with the trip. A few minutes later the phone vibrated with his phone call.

She didn’t pick up, texted again:
♦ On bus so can’t use phone to talk.

A few minutes later, he texted back.

→ No action here. Will put in trace paperwork. Will check records for caller number. You ok?

♦ Shaken up but ok.

→ Why you on bus?

♦ Going to Halawa to see my dad. He’s in prison there, told you yesterday.

→ Think he knows anything about the stalker stuff?

Lei paused, looked out the window at the lushness of remote Halawa Valley rising around her in sculpted beauty. Her eyes hardly registered the scenery.
Could
her father be connected to the stalking campaign that had been going on? It didn’t seem possible.

♦ Don’t think so. Unfinished business.
She clicked the phone shut. It vibrated once more:

→ Call me when you can.

♦ Will do
, she texted back, unaccountably warmed.

She sat at the battered Formica table in the communal room, waiting for her father. It had been an ordeal getting in. She had been able to get on the schedule for a visit but only because of her police and daughter status. She hadn’t known what to expect. The prison was medium security so the visiting could have been anything from plastic windows and phones to this open setting.

He must have some privileges, she thought, looking around the room. Couples and families clustered around battered tables, playing cards or talking. The spacious room was bathed in sunlight from high windows shadowed by safety wire. Lei sat facing the door, and when he came in, she knew him instantly.

He walked slowly toward her. His curly hair was shot with silver, and his face reminded her of a cigar-store Indian she had seen once, all craggy cheekbones and deep furrows. His dark, hooded eyes were wary.

“Lei,” he said, looking down at her. She’d forgotten how tall he was, the rack of his shoulders seeming to block out the light. She stood up.

“Hello.” Touching wasn’t allowed so she did an awkward little wave. Her smile felt like a tic.

“Lei.” he said again, this time his voice soft. “You came.”

“Yes, I did.”

They sat down at the table. Wayne took out a little spiral notebook.

“Do you have a pencil? I’m not allowed to carry one.”

She dug one out of her backpack and handed it to him. She felt the round eye of the surveillance camera watching them. Wayne took the pencil and began sketching quickly, and she saw her face emerging on the little lined pad: upturned nose, square jaw, full mouth, curly tangle of hair, wide tilted eyes, sprinkle of freckles. Only when he was satisfied with his drawing, and the swift glances he stole at her to complete it, did he hand the pencil back to her.

“Helps me remember things,” he said, flipping the notebook shut and slipping it back in his pocket.

“You seem to have a knack.”

“Something to do with my hands.”

The awkwardness choked Lei. She cleared her throat.

“I bet you wonder why you never heard from me.”

“I used to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I figured you had your reasons. Probably good ones.” This so closely echoed her own thought about Aunty Rosario hiding the letters that she cocked her head, smiled at him.

“Until recently, I thought you forgot about me when you were taken away.”

“Why?” His brow furrowed.

“I mean . . . I never knew you wrote to me.” She looked down at the table, unable to bear looking at his eyes.

“I don’t understand.”

“Please don’t be too mad at her but . . . Aunty Rosario never gave me your letters until just recently.”

The silence stretched out. She sneaked a peek at him. His carved face was still.

“That explains a lot,” he finally said. Lei nodded.

“Anyway. She brought them to me. And I realized what I thought was true, wasn’t true.”

“Which was?”

“You know. That you forgot me.”

“Never,” he said, leaning forward with sudden intensity. “I
never
forgot you.” Lei blinked, eyes swimming.

“I wish you hadn’t gone in here,” she said, her voice small.

“You and me both.” He set his hands on the table, as close as he could get them to hers. Lei stared at them and the tears fell, running down her cheeks like wax.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’ve had it rough.”

“Not so bad.” She sniffed and dashed off her cheeks. “After Aunty took me in.”

“I’m glad she took you in, but I still get some things fo’ to say to my sister.”

“She was nothing but good to me. She thought she was protecting me.”

“From the big bad drug dealer?” Her father had been given a maximum 20 year sentence without possibility of parole for heroin and cocaine dealing in an era of severe sentencing.

“I guess.”

“So you read the letters. Then you know I never meant any of this to happen.”

“Nobody ever does.” Once again, the long silence. Finally Lei said, “Did she tell you I’m a cop?”

“Yeah.” He laughed, a rusty chuckle. “Proud of you too.”

“It makes me feel good to make the streets a little safer, to help people. I’ve had some trouble lately, though.”

“What’s been happening?” He frowned, dark brows snapping together.

“Long story. I’m being stalked. Do you have any enemies in here? Anyone who knows about me? One of my cop friends thought there might be a connection somehow. Sketchy, I know.”

He stared at her, eyes hard. She wasn’t afraid of him but knew others could be.

“Get me up to speed.”

She did, filling him in on recent events.

“He called me on the bus on the way down here.”

“I have some enemies. You can’t avoid it, being in here. I had to kill a guy a few years ago.”

“Great, you’re a murderer.”

“It was self defense. His name was Terry Chang, he was a serious player in Hilo and we tangled in the game back in the day. Then he got convicted and tried to shank me in Lompoc. I ended up getting him. Added some years to my sentence.”

Lei lowered her head. What do you say when your dad tells you he killed someone?

“I don’t think his family’s letting this go. That or his connections. I’ve been getting threats.”

“What kind?”

“Just rumors. People saying the Changs are looking for payback.”

Lei looked at her hands, squeezed the web between her forefinger and thumb. Terry Chang. The name was familiar.

“I think I know that name. Pono told me his wife is the player now.”

“Healani? Wouldn’t surprise me. She’s one tough lady.”

“Why now, and not when you first killed him?”

“Rumor has it, some new blood trying to move up by earning cred, something like that.”

“Well, I’ll look into this. Are you safe in here?”

“I can take care of myself. You just here for the day?”

“Yeah, just today. We’re in the middle of a pretty intense investigation, and Aunty’s still at my house. I have Pono keeping an eye on her, but still I can’t be gone long. So . . . how much longer you going to be in?”

“I’m done with my time in six months. Before you leave, can I get your address? Sorry to say, I don’t trust your aunty anymore to handle the mail.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” Lei gave him the address and her phone number. She slipped her hand into her pocket where she’d stashed the black lava stone that morning. It felt good to rub it. He got his notebook out, did another drawing of her. This one was her as a little girl with a grin that took up her whole face. He did it quickly and passed it across to her.

“This is how I remember you.”

She laughed, folding it and putting it in her pocket alongside the stone, a hard little square she could touch whenever she needed to.

“I always did have a big mouth,” she said.

The buzzer sounded for the inmates to return to their cells.

“Watch your back, Dad.” The word sounded foreign in her mouth.

“I always do.”

She watched him walk away and the thunk of the steel door shutting behind him squeezed her breath out of her lungs with loss and again, the claustrophobia. She couldn’t wait to get out.

Leaving the big square poured-concrete building with its lacy scrim of razor wire, Lei flipped open her phone and called Pono.

“Hey there, Lei.”

“Hey. How’s everything at the house?”

“Fine. Your auntie she cleaning. Wants to know when you getting home.”

“Soon as I can.” She told him about her father’s threats from the Chang family as she got back on the bus.

“I hope that’s nothing, Lei. Those Changs—don’t have anything to do with them.”

“I don’t think it’s good intel. I think the stalker is the guy who molested me when I was a kid,” she whispered into the phone, getting “stink-eye” from the bus driver. “I’ll tell you more when I get home.”

Chapter 36

Lei went up the chipped cement steps of her little house in Hilo. Keiki nosed her leg, sticking close. After she’d got home, she turned right back around to take Aunty to the airport. She’d had to pry her aunt out of the house with promises of a visit to California, but she couldn’t risk having her at the house with Charlie Kwon or whoever it was escalating the situation.

Didn’t know I could miss it so much in a day, she thought, slipping her key in the lock and taking a deep breath of the humid Big Island air with its faint plumeria scent. She disarmed the alarm and went into the kitchen to sort the handful of mail. Keiki barked happily, sniffing all the corners, and did a quick patrol before whisking out through her dog door.

“Stevens, it’s me. I’m home.”

“Glad you’re back. Nothing on the stalker call; the number was a disposable.”

“Crap. He’s been good at covering his tracks so far. Listen, you doing anything for dinner?”

She took a container of beef stew out of the freezer.

“You asking me out?”

“I guess I am. I have some food from my aunt’s restaurant, and I can nuke you up some.”

“No problem. I’m always up for a home-cooked meal, no matter who made it. See you soon.”

She shut the phone and set about her preparations. Keiki came back in from her patrol and sat wagging her stump of tail in anticipation, her triangle ears pricked.

“Okay baby, coming right up. Don’t forget I fed you first.” She set the dog’s food down, her stomach fluttering. She couldn’t wait to see Stevens, to see if she felt that fizzy bubble when she saw him. It seemed only moments later that the doorbell rang. Lei took a moment to check the peephole before she opened it.

“Hi, Michael.”

“Hey,” he said. “You remembered my name.”

She looked at him a long moment, taking in his height, breadth, and intensity—then they each stepped forward at the same time so they bumped awkwardly as they hugged. Lei laughed, gesturing toward the kitchen.

“Come on in and enjoy Aunty’s cooking.” She led him to the table where a candle burned and places were set.

“Nice. Smells good.”

“You’ll have to tell Aunty next time she comes,” Lei said, getting the warm purple taro rolls out of the oven to go with the beef stew. They ate heartily, catching up on departmental business and the progress on the Mohuli`i/Gomes case.

“Reynolds had his arraignment and made bail. Guy has some CPA connections to real money as we had the bail set at a million. We’re not making the Gomes case stick to him at all though—starting to think the cases are separate.”

“Awfully coincidental in a town of forty-five thousand. You sure about that?”

“We’re not sure of anything, just following the evidence. Thank God the search turned up Haunani’s gold ring or we wouldn’t have been able to pick him up. As it is, DA’s thinking Reynolds did the girls and the Campsite Rapist is still out there, maybe escalated to doing Gomes.”

“Still want me to help out?”

“Absolutely. Just not sure how at the moment; we seem to have run out of leads.”

“I’ve got something new on my stalker.” Lei got up, fetched the note out of the freezer. He cocked an eyebrow as she took the note out. “Don’t ask. It seems like a secure location and makes me feel better somehow. Anyway, this thing about the bath—only the guy who molested me could know something that personal. I’ve got a real lead now. His name is Charlie Kwon.”

She filled him in on everything she could remember about Kwon. He tapped the letter.

“You sure there’s no one else who could know about this? Seems pretty farfetched he’d come back after all this time and endanger himself by stalking you. That’s pretty ballsy behavior for a pedophile, especially the opportunistic type like Kwon sounds like.”

Lei stood up, paced. “There are a few people who knew his name, but it’s just as unlikely they’d use the information this way.”

“What about your father? Did he know?”

Lei paused midstride. Went over to the sink, gazed unseeing out the window. He probably did know, at least as much as her aunt had told him. It had never occurred to her to ask him. She cringed at the thought.

“I don’t know. I’d have to ask my aunt. Anyway, probably not the details.”

“But how do you know that? Wouldn’t he have asked Rosario about it, wanted to get some payback?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to call my aunt in the morning since she’s on the plane. That reminds me, he had a lead for me too, the Chang family and their connections. Said they’re threatening him because he was the one to off Terry Chang a few years ago.”

“Could Kwon have a connection with the Changs?”

“I have no idea. Another good question.”

Stevens whistled. “And suddenly we have a laundry list of suspects. Wish we had that many for the girls and Mary.”

Lei collapsed into the chair, put her head down on her folded arms. “And to think I used to think the cases were connected somehow.”

“I know, I played with that idea too. And just to add to the mix, I’m liking your friend Tom for the stalker. Means, motive, and opportunity—he’s creepy enough and it would be easy for him, right down the street.” Stevens gestured to the delicate orchid plant on the table.

“C’mon. He’s not my friend.”

“Seems like he might want to be more.”

Lei stared at him. His sky eyes were on her face, dark brows lowered. She reached across the table, put her fingers on his lips.

“I don’t like him that way,” she said softly. “I told you.”

He captured her hand in his big, rough one, and kissed the pads of her fingers. Warm breath shot tingles up her arm.

“You know who I like,” he whispered, nibbling gently, drawing her forefinger into his mouth. She closed her eyes as he kissed and sucked his way across her palm and up her wrist, drawing her boneless body closer, scooting his chair around. Before she quite knew how he had done it, he had her in his lap, his arms around her.

The kiss was a conversation: a greeting, an acknowledgement, a statement of intent. Lei felt herself vibrating like a plucked string, every nerve ending coming alive. He finally lifted his head, looking down into her half-lidded eyes for a long moment.

“We’ve got to find this guy. I can’t hold out much longer.” Regret pulling his mouth down, he set her back in her chair.

“Wish you weren’t so noble.” She sighed, straightening her shirt. “I respect that about you. Annoying as hell, though.”

“Can I spend the night? Keep an eye on you.”

“No. Not if you’re not in bed with me.”

He groaned, pushed his hair back with both hands so it stood up in pointed tufts of distress.

“I better go then.” He scrubbed his hands briskly on his jeans as if to keep from touching her.

“Thanks for all you’ve done. I know you’re looking out for me, and I promise I won’t go out tonight.”

“You better not.” A last kiss seared her mouth with longing. She let him out, relocking and rearming, and sighed as she did.

* * *

“The bitch is back.” He watched the lights go out, and smiled, putting his camera away. He wouldn’t need it again until he had her. “It’s going to be worth the wait.”

He watched Stevens get in the Bronco and pull out, then drive around the block. He turned on the old Pontiac he was driving, and rolled away just in time to see the lights of the Bronco come up behind where he’d been parked and pull over, going dark.

The poor lovesick bastard was going to spend the night in his car watching her house.

Not that that was going to help.