Dark Lava: Lei Crime Book 7 (Lei Crime Series) (32 page)

“
Go. I’m feeling it now, anyway. This old man needs a nap.”

“
I’ll get some backup to make sure you’re safe.” She gave him one last kiss and went to the door, getting her phone out to make some calls.

She had to blink back tears at the sight of Pono, sitting on a chair outside, already on guard. “
Got people lined up to keep an eye on him until he’s discharged,” her friend said. “Go check on your dog.”

She didn
’t need any more encouragement.

Keiki was out of surgery by the time she got to the modest little animal hospital, and the technicians let her go back into the r
ecovery room, where the big Rottweiler was still sedated to keep her wound stabilized.

“
She’s going to recover fine, if there’s no infection,” the vet told Lei. “I was able to remove the knife and repair the internal damage. Your husband made the right call leaving the blade in place.”

Lei sat with the big dog
for a long time, stroking her square head and playing with her silky ears. There with Keiki, alone in the antiseptic-, doggy-smelling room, Lei put her head down against her dog’s warm side and cried all the tears she needed to, releasing the stress and grief of the last few weeks.

Stevens and Lei sat on the couch the next evening as the news recapped the
heiau
case. Wendy Watanabe, bright in a turquoise suit, described the “bizarre plot” headed by Councilman Muapu to gather a secret museum of Hawaii’s sacred artifacts to keep them from being lost to the elements or “the disrespect of outsiders.” A clip of Muapu’s square brown face, eyes glittering with conviction, was played.

“
In the next hundred years, our most sacred places and the objects that represent our culture are going to be lost—to development, to the elements, to graffiti by kids who no longer remember how sacred they are. The museum was meant to protect that, to safeguard our history and preserve it for those of our blood to see and experience.”

Watanabe came back on. “
Mr. Muapu denies having any knowledge of the murder of one of the thieves he employed to steal the artifacts. In his statement to the press, he asks forgiveness for taking this action without bringing it before people for a vote.”

“
Wow,” Lei said. She leaned against Stevens’s good side as they ate chili and cornbread. “Seems like Muapu’s not backing down. Going to try to spin this that he was doing it for everyone. I bet he even runs for reelection.”

Stevens set his empty bowl down on the arm of the couch, but not where Keiki, lying on her dog bed with a cone around her neck, could reach
it. He couldn’t resist putting an arm around Lei, bringing her in against his good side. He couldn’t get enough of being physically close to her. It had been only a day since he got out of the hospital, and he wasn’t done thanking God that he was still alive. They’d spent most of the time he’d been home in bed, sleeping—and when he felt up to it, doing other things.

Lei
’s phone rang and she got up and answered it, picking up their bowls and taking them to the kitchen. He heard her greet her father.

He ref
ocused on the news. They’d moved on to recap the arrest and capture of Red Toaman, Mana Guinamo, and Manuel Okapa in the slaying of the Norwegian art thief.

“
Officials involved in the case tell us these men tracked the art thief and killed him on their own. Leaders in the Heiau Hui movement have denied any involvement in the brutal slaying.”

A clip ran of Charles Awapuhi being interviewed. “
I had nothing to do with that man’s murder,” he said, his diction perfect and face concerned. “I apologize publicly for holding the artifacts at my house on their way to the museum, but I believed Muapu when he said he was doing this to protect the culture.”

“
Wasn’t it contradictory to be a part of stealing the artifacts and also to be organizing a movement to protect them—from yourself?” Watanabe inserted a microphone back into his face.

“
I see now that it was misguided,” Awapuhi said. “But I do believe that the sites must be guarded, so that our heritage can be preserved.”

Watanabe came back on. “
In a positive turn of events in all this, preservation experts from the Bishop Museum in Honolulu are helping to reinstall the petroglyphs and other artifacts to the
heiaus
, and a statewide law has been drawn up declaring
heiaus
and sites with petroglyphs to be historically significant and not to be developed. Literature profiting from disclosing their locations is also banned by the new state law, which will go forward for a vote in the next session.”

Stevens looked over into the kitchen, where Lei was was
hing the dishes. “Did you hear that, Sweets?”

“
What?” She came out, drying her hands. She was wearing that peach silk robe he’d bought before their wedding, and he liked the way it wrapped her like she was a present he’d never get tired of opening.

“
The state’s banning mention of the sites in books like
Maui’s Secrets
and declaring the
heiaus
protected.”

Someone rang the bell on the outer gate. Lei had increased the security measures at their little house, installing an exterior camera, intercom, and remote
gate lock before Stevens got out of the hospital.

They both looked at the monitor near the kitchen door. A man with a truck was standing outside the gate, holding a clipboard. “
Wonder who that is.” Lei depressed the button to speak to the man. “Hi. What’s your business?”

“
Delivery of baby furniture from Anchara Mookjai,” the man said.

Lei gave Stevens a quick glance, then replied into the intercom. “
I’ll be right out to help you.” To Stevens she said, “I know what this is about. Just rest. I’ll handle this.”

He frowned at the mention of his ex
’s name, especially in connection with baby furniture, wondering what was going on. He snapped his fingers, and Keiki came over, moving stiffly, and sat at his feet. He put a hand on her collar to keep her from going any farther toward the door.

The news dragged his attention back as Watanabe wrapped up the story and moved on. “
Following up with another brutal murder on Maui, a suspect in the murder of pregnant woman Anchara Mookjai has been identified. Danan Mookjai was the pregnant woman’s husband, and a foreign national. He is being held indefinitely without bail until agreements can be made about his extradition, or if he will face charges in the United States for Mookjai’s murder and the attempted murder of a police officer. This case draws attention to the ongoing problem with domestic violence here in Hawaii, and worldwide.”

The front door opened, and Lei backed in, carrying one end of a heavy-looking, hand-carved cradle, the delivery man the other. They carrie
d the cradle into the baby’s room, and Stevens’s hand curled around his Glock as he tracked the movements of the deliveryman, still worried that, even with Mookjai in custody, some new threat would come against them.

One shroud was still unaccounted for.

“Let’s just put the rest on the porch,” Lei directed the deliveryman. “We have to find space and room for it all.”

Once the man had left and the gate was locked again, Lei came back and flopped down beside him.
Stevens narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s all this?”

“
Anchara’s baby furniture for Kiet. I broke into her place when I was looking for his name. She’d prepared so beautifully for him that it broke my heart when the landlord said it was all going to Goodwill. So I told him we’d find a family with a new baby that could use it. He called me, and I gave him some money and told him to have it delivered here at the end of the month. Figured baby Kiet should know how much his mama loved him.”

Stevens reached over, played with one of her curls, moved by her g
esture. “I love you for doing that.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “But we already have a lot of baby stuff. We can return some of it, I guess.”

“
We might need it all,” she said. Her eyes were flecked with shades of brown from umber to burnt sienna, and they’d never looked so vulnerable to him. She took his hand gently and placed it on her belly. “We’re going to need a lot of baby stuff.”

His mouth went dry and his throat tightened. “
What are you telling me?”

“
I’m pregnant. Yeah, I know. Terrible timing. But I’m pretty sure it happened before we knew about Kiet.” She looked away, and he saw her lips tremble. “Anyway, it’s too late now.”

He brought his hand up and turned her face to his. Tears hung on her lower lashes like tiny pearls as he breathed w
ords into her mouth. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

She threw herself on him, and he grunted with pain but took her in his arms anyway, where he knew she needed to be. He submitted to a rain of kisses, sniffles, and inarticulate explanatio
ns about how she’d been feeling strange ever since that “really special night,” a pregnancy test she’d done in California, and her father moving in with them to a bigger house.

He sat up at that. “
What?”

“
Aunty left me her house, and Dad wants us to sell it and buy a bigger place here. He’ll come live with us and be our ‘manny.’ He can take care of the kids while we work.”

Stevens felt a slow grin pulling up his cheeks. “
That’s the second best thing I’ve heard all day. It’s so crazy, it could work. Your dad plus Keiki equals some pretty good child care plus security.”

“
I’m so glad you like the idea.” They kissed some more. He fiddled with the ribbed tank shirt she’d thrown on to move the furniture.

“
I liked you better in the robe.”

“
I have some more news. Dad called to tell me Aunty’s memorial is next week, and the ME’s office has declared Aunty’s death to be natural causes.” Straddling his lap, she snuggled up against him. He could tell she was being careful not to put weight on his injury. “Heart failure is what they’re saying, related to her cancer. I have a feeling Aunty just let herself go after she told me what she told me.”

“
What did she tell you?”

“
That she and my grandmother Yumi hired the contract hit on Kwon.”

Stevens
’s arms tightened involuntarily around her. “That’s right, she told you that. Your family is something else.”

“
My family is your family now.”

“
I guess so. A scary thought.”

“
I know.”

“
Speaking of family, my bro, Jared, called me in the hospital. He’s transferring in a few months to a job with Kahului Station.”

“
Good. It’ll be fun to have him here. The more, the better. I guess I better make some reservations for the memorial.”

“
Why don’t we go get Kiet on the way back from the memorial?”

She went still in hi
s arms. “I’m scared.”

“
Of a baby?” He smiled, dropping a kiss into her hair. “Guess you better get over that.”

“
No. Scared I won’t—love him. Be a good mom to him. Same old shit.” Agitated, she climbed off Stevens to pace. “I’m weirded out about being pregnant, too. But I’m even more worried I won’t have the right feelings for Kiet.”

Stevens shut his eyes, remembering the tidal wave of emotion that had overtaken him in the hospital, holding his son in his arms. Kiet was hard not to love. “
I have a feeling it’s going to be fine.”

Lei held Stevens’s hand too tight on the porch of the foster home on Oahu. She knew she was doing that, but she couldn’t loosen her grip. The social worker had finally finished with her verifications yesterday and had given them permission to take Kiet home. She looked around, at the late-afternoon sun slanting across a bright bougainvillea hedge around the modest house. She smelled the rich sweetness of the plumeria blossoms on the tree beside the porch as Stevens pushed the doorbell.

Lei felt wrung out by the stress of the memorial. Hearing there was no progress in tracking the mysterious nurse who
’d left her aunt dead, planted with a bomb and a shroud, hadn’t helped. She and Stevens had stayed in California an extra few days, helping Wayne pack the house and clean it up to put on the market, and that had also taken a toll. Lei was both emotionally and physically drained.

Not the best time to m
eet her new stepson.

A woman with a kind, freckled face and fading red hair unraveling from a ponytail
came to the door. Round blue eyes blinked at them.

“
Welcome.” She swung the door wide. “We’ve been expecting you. I’m Sally Goodwin, and this is my husband, Burt.”