Freefall (39 page)
“It’s not up to you. You came here to keep Nica from getting hurt. That’s what we’re doing.”
Nica’s fear lodged in his chest. He remembered her in his arms, her small frame rolled up and rocking as he’d whispered uselessly,
“ They’re coming back. I promise.”
He hadn’t kept that promise. But he’d kept Nica, when she could have been swept away. Conventional wisdom said call the police. But he knew too well how a situation could go bad. And he’d depended on others before.
Gentry dropped her hand. “Do what he said, Kai.”
“Your uncle won’t—”
“Know? You can’t tell him.”
His heart pounded. “Gentry …”
“Malakua has no control at the destination without a hostage he can handle.” She swallowed. “I’m too well-known for him to do something stupid.”
“He tried to kill you.”
“For someone else in a supposed accident. He’d be stupid to try anything now. He wants to disappear.”
“This isn’t a movie.”
“But I can play it.” Determination fixed her gaze. She would do it. But he couldn’t let her. He’d call the—
Panic squeezed his throat. An image flashed through his mind so powerfully his heart lost its rhythm; Nica swept away, submerged in a crimson-hued tide. Never once had he experienced visions. Intuition, gut reaction, but nothing like this.
If the police surrounded them, cornered Malakua, how would the man react? There were no highly trained SWAT snipers, no official negotiators on Kauai. The time it would take to alert and transport such personnel would terrorize Nica. And if his vision was real, either collaterally or intentionally she would be lost. Instinct told him this was no fluke of terror in his mind. He’d been warned. His best hope was to end it as quickly as possible.
TJ should be able to clear the tiny private airport for an emergency situation. Malakua said no cops, but calling TJ wasn’t the same as calling the police. He had a personal stake, and Malakua had even named him. “Brace yourself, brah,” Cameron said into the phone. “Malakua’s got Nica.”
He hadn’t expected an explosion. Like the sea drawing out from the shore to become a tsunami, TJ gathered his fury in silence.
“He wants off the island. He’s agreed to exchange her for Gentry and a ride on Denny’s plane.”
“Going kill dat moke.”
Cameron checked his watch. “He must have grabbed her on the path from Okelani’s. They had hula classes this morning.”
“Where—”
“I think she’s home. I heard the cat.” Its wrecked vocal cords were unmistakable. At least for the moment, she was in her own space. If they flushed them out, her anxiety would rise exponentially.
“I’m going—”
“TJ, we’ll lose her if we try anything stupid. I had…I saw something.” He described the vision and trusted TJ’s heritage to accommodate it. “I wouldn’t make this up.” The crimson waves that carried her away had not tasted of salt.
“
What
den?”
“I need you to get access to the Princeville heliport for an emergency situation. I’ll call you with timing after I talk to Denny.”
Denny serviced the six main islands with his charter jet. From any in the string, it was a short hop over. But if he was on the mainland, he’d be six hours away. Too long for Nica’s fragile psyche. They’d have to involve the police.
So that was the test. If his decision was wrong …
His call connected.
God
. Rang again.
Please
. His thoughts were already known, but he mouthed them anyway.
Let him be close
. With the third ring, he freed the prayer.
Amama
.
Denny’s voice. “Hey, Kai.”
“Denny, where are you?”
“Nawiliwili Harbor.”
Same island. Minutes away. Shame and relief purged his doubt.
Mahalo ke Akua
.
“Denny, I’ve got trouble.” As he spoke, he realized he’d be asking his friend to transport a fugitive and put his own life in danger. But then another possibility occurred. Denny’s jet, but …
Cameron swallowed hard. He hadn’t kept up the hours for his license, and it had been years since he’d piloted anything across the ocean. He pushed that small concern behind the greater ones.
“What trouble?”
He told Denny about Nica and Malakua’s demand. He told him Gentry’s part. As she’d said, the danger lay at the destination. If Malakua intended to disappear, he’d have to keep Gentry and Denny from revealing his location. Either immobilize—or silence them.
Cameron clenched his jaw. Not gonna happen. He had to be there to control the situation. Somehow.
“You’d have to bring her in to Princeville. Then let me fly her out.”
Gentry’s gaze shot to his face. He’d taken them by surprise, but the thought started to feel right.
“ Trade one sistah for one girlfriend.” No way, buggah. I keep them both
.
“It might take some balancing with the tower,” Denny said. “I’ll phone you an ETA.”
He swallowed a lump as hard as a stone. “Denny …”
“You’d do it for me, Kai.”
He pocketed his phone and began the wait. How long before he heard, before Nica—
Gentry touched his arm.
“I’m guessing he’ll wait at Nica’s. He’ll want a space he can control, and the fewer moves he makes the less attention he draws. If the police close in, he’s holding the wild card. He knows I won’t risk her. I just wish …”
“Could someone check on her? Someone nonthreatening. Like Okelani?”
His respiration increased. Someone to reassure Nica, let her know she wasn’t alone. Okelani might be the perfect choice. Who could suspect an old blind woman?
He locked on to Gentry’s gaze. “And we’d learn for sure if they’re there.”
He called Okelani and told her what had happened. “I just need to know she’s okay.” He roughed his hand through his hair and shut his eyes. She wouldn’t be. She didn’t understand cruelty. A damaged butterfly broke her heart.
“You know, Kai.
Ke Akua
wen handle dis.”
He had to hope. “I know, Tū tū .”
“How much time we got?”
Denny needed to get to the airport, fuel, file a flight plan and receive clearance, and then take off, circle, and land. “An hour, maybe two.”
“Kay den. You do your part; I do mine.” He slid the phone into his pocket.
Gentry took his hands. “I have one question.” Her voice shook. “Can you fly a jet?”
Pressed down by dread, Nica breathed the sharp, acidic odor of the man hunkered down beside her. The cut on her neck stung where the knife had pressed in, but he no longer held it there. It lay on the table like a totem of violence waiting to be taken up and revered.
She had never smelled her own fear. She’d smelled others’. She knew the scent of despair and long-suffering. The poignant smell of death. But her fear had startled her with its piquant immediacy. Its particular scent lasted only as long as she thought Kai might come for her and die.
Then it subsided beneath the malodorous thickening of the air, a scent that held whispers of ignorance and brutality. Death didn’t scare her. Evil did. Cruelty without cause. Banal violence. The man’s fingertips felt like the leaves of a rubber plant when he ran them down her cheek.
A quiver of loathing passed through her.
“You one little rabbit.” He felt her hair. “Nevah skin one rabbit before.”
She closed her eyes and found the face she needed. Blood ran from the four-inch thorns pressed into his head, from slaps and buffets, spittle and insults. He held out his hand.
Come, Nica. Walk with me
.
Blood transferred from his palm to hers as their hands clasped. He hadn’t shown her his physical suffering before. She’d seen his sorrow, his compassion, even his grim acceptance of a final rejection, a soul turning its face even in death. But today he was Iesū the man, scourged and pierced.
The rubber-plant fingers slid down her neck, across the cut. “Poor little rabbit.”
Her breath caught. His hand moved again.
Wait with me, beloved. Wait and pray
. Together they knelt. He hunched over the stone.
Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me
.
She didn’t find it strange that he was already crucified, yet praying for the ordeal to be averted. They were outside time, no before and after. She pressed into him, her side to his, her hands on the chalky stone, his arms pearled with rosy sweat. A scent of olives and night. A nightingale impressed its song. She’d never heard one but knew it now, a melody piercingly sweet that leapt across the stars and slid like moonglow over the night.
She startled at the rap on the sliding door and opened her eyes to shuttered daylight. The man had closed the bamboo screens, but one buckled where it had snagged on a cactus. Like a candle flame illuminating the shadows was the face she glimpsed in the half-moon gap. She found her voice. “It’s Okelani. If I don’t answer, she’ll know something’s wrong.”
The irony of her statement passed over him like fog. Wouldn’t she want someone to know something was wrong? Why inform him of the possibility? But he snatched up his knife and peeked out, saw the walking stick Okelani had used to maneuver the path, the milk in her eyes. He snorted, and motioned for her to answer the knock.
While he stood off to the side, knife ready, Nica raised the screen and slid open the door. “Tūtū,
aloha
.” She kissed her cheek. He stood too close to risk a whisper, but she hoped her fear had come through. Okelani could hear a change in the wind.
“Bring you dis.” Okelani raised a Ziploc bag of muffins so hot they’d steamed the plastic like fog. “Mo bettah share. Grind too much you come
momona
.” She patted Nica’s waist with a laugh, but there was more than mirth in it.
As Nica reached for the muffins, she saw a trace of blood in the lines of her palm. Transfixed, she stared for stretched seconds, then the bag was pressed in.
“Na Içhowa ‘oe e ho‘omaika‘i mai, ā e mālama mai.”
The Lord bless you and keep you. Okelani’s smile always held ancient
kapu
secrets, but now it told only one thing. She knew.
Nica took the bag and kissed her again. “Don’t worry. I won’t get fat.” Her fingers shook in Okelani’s for a moment, then they parted.
“
Mahalo,
Tū tū .” As the man snatched the muffins, she watched the old woman turn away and pretend to be blind.
Gentr y had left Cameron in the hall
while she said good-bye to her uncle. His grim face would have triggered Uncle Rob’s instincts, while she was schooled to portray what she had to. She hated to deceive, but this was one situation the truth would not help. “Since they haven’t apprehended the dragon man, Cameron thinks I should leave now. He’s arranged a flight.” Somewhat accurate at least.
Settled back in the bed, Uncle Rob nodded. “I trust his judgment.” That statement would haunt him if things went badly, and again she felt a pang of conscience.
“I do too.” Knowing he’d be in the plane with her and the dragon man lessened her fear. Except that he’d be flying it—disconcerting at best.
Her uncle looked fatigued, but the haunted aspect had passed. He’d be leaving in the morning himself, and she was one less detail for him to worry about. “Will you be all right?”
He smiled bleakly. “Believe it or not, yes.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for earlier.”
“For letting me see?” She squeezed his hand. “Since when have we not shared an ascent?”
“It’s not your baggage.”
“You’ve carried my pack plenty of times.”
He shook his head. “Not for quite a few years now.”
“No expiration on paybacks.” She owed him so much.
He searched her face. “Are you okay?”
She gulped back the sudden tears. “I will be. We both will.”
Taking her angst for the concern it appeared, he said, “This summit’s going to take a while.”
She sniffed. “Expect a few switchbacks.”
“Alternate routes.”
“A storm or two.”
He almost crushed her fingers. “Your father’s a lucky man.”
She let the tears drop. “I’m the lucky one. I have you both.” She kissed his cheek and went out before she broke down and told him everything.
Cameron said nothing until they were in the truck in the parking lot. Then he turned. “This isn’t right. He trusted me to keep you out of harm.”
“We don’t have a choice.”
“I keep thinking we must.”
He said that, but she knew that every passing minute his concern for Nica ate at him. “What do you call the biggest, most damaging wave?”
His eyes narrowed. “A cruncher.”
“That’s what’s coming. What are we going to do?”
“Smart thing is to bail.”
She held his gaze. They were, neither of them, bailers.
He cupped the back of her neck. “We’re gonna climb it. A big S right down the barrel.”
