Chinatown Beat (25 page)

"Was my home. I live in Brooklyn now."

Alex clinked her glass against his in a toast. "To home, wherever that may be."

"And where's home for you?" he asked.

"I've got folks in Hawaii. Oahu, where I grew up. You know, Waikiki Beach?"

"Sure." Jack grinned. "Paradise."

"I miss my family, sometimes, and the friends I left behind. The things we used to do when we were younger."

"Childhood in paradise," Jack toasted. They drained their sake cups.

"At all the family reunions there'd be a luau, with poi and roast pig, mahi mahi, and maanapua. There was sweet fruit and sunshine and we kids would just run wild."

Listening to her speak, Jack realized where he'd take his vacation time, before the transfer became reality, before the change of seasons.

Oahu, he thought, downtime in paradise. Recharge himself.

"This time of year," Alex was talking as if in a dream, "we'd visit the other islands, sell pineapples and macadamia sweets on board the cruse ships."

Jack could almost see it happening…

The local children clad in brightly colored leis and pareos performed the hula halau, dancing down the wooden Promenade Deck to the call of the Hukilau song.

Mona leaned back in a deck chair, relaxed in tan linen pants and canvas espadrilles. She loosened the silk scarf draped over her white T-shirt. The azure blue of the sheltering sky stretched as far as she could see. The ocean below was darker, sparkling and clear only when it rolled in over the reefs toward the whitesand shores. The caressing warmth of the sun had already put color back in her skin, and the rhythm of the ocean breaking against the bow soothed her, made her feel ping on, in harmony with the world. When she touched it, the jade sang, Wind over water. Flowing. Auspicious omen to cross the great stream. Selfpreservation. Water purges, revitalizes, but may bring chaos, danger. Weather the danger. Flow…

She peered across the deck, saw the Chinaman's Hat in the distance, as the Tropicali made its idyllic journey past Oahu. A seascape of sailboats sliding through translucent green-blue water, whipped by wind.

She took a sip from the pina colada with the umbrella in it, adjusted her Vuarnets, and casually checked the straw Aloha bag on her lap. She saw the mahjong case containing the gold Pandas, the neat bundles of money, and the velvet pouch with the diamonds inside. After a moment, she put the drink down, and untied the Hermes scarf that had accompanied her from New York. She held it for a moment, letting it flutter in the wind, then released it, watching it sail free, disappearing into paradise.

In that moment she felt her soul set free, her body set free, from the oppression of men, of the world. She felt the tropical breeze through the gauze of the bandage on her thigh, the bullet wound healing, just a scab now. She knew the scars inside her might never heal, those memories were etched into her heart.

But here, and now, she was free, and nothing could force her back to that life again. She closed her fist over the jade, holding earth under heaven. Who could find her now?