Hot Lava (10 page)

I looked to Brandon for backup. He sighed. “Yep, I’m afraid he, um,
she
, is right, kid. Time to turn this over to the professionals.”

“You forget,” he said. “I am a professional.”

Sadly, it was something I hadn’t forgotten. “For now, kid,” I told him, “you’re a professional tour guide. What’s there to see around here?”

“You’re joking, right?” he asked.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Koni replied by pointing to my scarf, my sunglasses, and my sarong.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

He laughed. “Look way down the street, Cute Dudette.”

“Water, boats, tourists. So what?”

He shook his head. “Um, that’s Pearl Harbor.”

I looked up and squinted. “Ah. Well, then, lead on.”

Okay, per the pamphlet we picked up, Pearl Harbor and the USS Arizona Memorial are top Hawaiian tourist destinations, with over one-and-a-half million visitors a year. Considering the sweltering heat, our sarong attire, and our newly acquired and now heavy purchases, we opted for a quick run-through. Needless to say, the Arizona Memorial is a sobering experience -- and you know how much we hate being sober. Standing over a gravesite where more than a thousand men lost their lives is not at all enjoyable, especially since we were there as a result of Lenny losing his.

***

After our brief tour, we changed out of our disguises and hopped a cab back to our hotel. The sun began its descent and the tourists were massing along the beach. We ran upstairs and dropped off all the stuff we would theoretically not be needing anymore, as we’d apparently accomplished our mission without even trying. Un-fucking-believable.

“Let’s go down and watch the sunset,” I morosely suggested, looking down at our wasted extravagances.

“Agreed,” Brandon agreed, clearly thinking the same thought.

We made it as the sun hit the horizon, casting the clouds in a warm pink glow and turning the surf a golden orange. The air was warm, smelling sweet as I raced to our familiar stretch of beach. Will was waiting for us, a smile growing wide on his handsome face. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. All was right in the universe again. Well, my universe, anyway.

“How was the shopping?” he asked. “You guys were gone forever.”

“Long story. Need sustenance,” I managed, plopping down on the chairs he had waiting for us.

One fruity-yet-strong cocktail later, and we filled him in. “Wow,” he said. “You did get a lot accomplished. Guess the ball’s in the police’s court now. I’ve also got some news, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Wait,” I said, my hand up high. “I think another drink is called for, then.” Halfway through it, I told him, “Okay, spill it.”

His smile went south. He looked to the ocean, his eyes not focusing. “Koni’s friend, Buck,” he said, which sent my stomach sinking toward the cooling sand, preparing for the worst (and getting it in spades). “They found him this morning, floating in the Ala Wai Canal.”

“Fuck,” Koni cursed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Those cameras around the house in the North Shore probably caught my image. Pass that around to enough places, and someone probably saw Buck talking to us the other night. Not too difficult to put two and two together,” Will explained. “Guess the prior inhabitants really don’t want to be found.”

I looked over at Koni. His eyes were red and his nose was running. “Not your fault, kid,” I told him.

“Yes, it is, and you know it is,” he said -- and I did. “We gotta find the guys that did this and make them pay.”

“The police need to find them,” I corrected. “We’ll tell them about Liko and Jed and let them handle it from here on out.”

He shook his head. “The police don’t give a fuck about some dead street trash and a no-good pimp.”

I looked over at Will, knowing we were right to keep Koni in the dark about who he was and what he did for a living; there’d be no trust there, neither in him nor us. “It’s been a long day, kid. Let’s get some dinner and talk about this tomorrow, when our heads are clearer,” I tried, rubbing his back with the palm of my hand.

He nodded, choking back the tears. “Fine, but don’t forget that I know a lot of people like Buck, and I bet one of them knows where Jed is. The police could take forever to find him; I doubt it would take me all that long.”

Again I looked to Will, who gave me an almost imperceptible shrug. Koni was probably right, but it was better to be safe than sorry. In any case, I let it go. There was no point in arguing with him, not just yet. Instead, we walked onto the beach and to the hotel next to ours, the Outrigger Waikiki.

“This Duke’s Restaurant any good?” I asked Koni. He nodded, silently, his revenge-filled mind obviously still plotting. “Duke’s it is, then,” I said, trying my best to sound upbeat. Trying, that is, and failing miserably.

The restaurant was open on the beach side, all dark wood, comfortable, with pictures of the great Duke Kahanamoku everywhere. We walked to the front of the place and were quickly seated. The food was exceptional, the view of the darkening sky spectacular; the mood, however, was subdued. We were all thinking the same thoughts, none of them good. We ate our meals with little to say -- free advertising, though: try the Hula Pie! -- and then we finished and went back to our hotel. Koni didn’t join the three of us on the veranda’s rocking chairs; instead, he went upstairs and presumably to bed.

“Poor guy,” Brandon sighed. “I understand the guilt he must be feeling.”

Will also sighed, knowingly. “The life these street kids lead, it’s a wonder any of them survives, even out here in paradise.”

I sent my chair rocking as I stared out at the sidewalk, the tourists strolling by, oblivious to the nasty surrounding underbelly we’d recently come into contact with. “What do we do now?” I asked.

“I’ll stop over at the substation on the way back to my hotel, tell them about our connection to Buck and Jed, see if they’ll let me interview Makani over at the prison. Maybe he can shed some light on everything, though it seems unlikely. Plus, we still don’t know how his boss was caught. Maybe that, too, will get explained. I’ll come back over in the morning and fill you both in. Beyond that, take the kid snorkeling or something. Keep his mind off of things. You three are officially no longer on the case. That’s an order.”

“Aye aye, captain,” I said, saluting him.

“With pleasure,” Brandon added.

He left a short while later with a quick peck on my cheek and a squeeze of my hand. Brandon and I didn’t last much beyond that. It had been a long and stressful afternoon, and we were exhausted, too pooped to pop, as it were. We promised ourselves a bad-thought-free day for tomorrow. No drag, no investigative work, no death and destruction.

We went to bed and fell fast asleep, awaking to a bright, perfect morning. I walked to our balcony and watched the surf roll in. The water, sapphire blue and emerald green, was calm, reflecting the light off the already hot sun. The surfers had begun to mass farther out, where the waves lifted them up and carried them to shore. I breathed in, deeply, smelling the fresh air, the salty breeze, the aroma of breakfast just barely noticeable from far below. Brandon soon joined me, somehow with cool mimosas in his hand, one for him, one for me. The door to the balcony next to ours opened; Koni walked out in just his boxers, his lean, hard body rippling as he yawned.

“Morning,” he said. “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.”

I grinned. “Perfect day for snorkeling, huh?”

He brightened even further. “Good day for it.”

It would’ve been. Oh man, it would’ve been. (Cue that sinister music again. So fucking sorry.)

We ordered breakfast and ate it on our balcony, watching the banyan tree come to life with innumerable small birds. All the while, I waited for Will to show up or to call, as promised. We finished our food, our mimosas, and a pot of coffee -- and still no sign of him. The minutes ticked by. My heart began to beat faster. Something was wrong. I felt it in my bones. We expected him early, and early it was no longer.

“He’ll be here soon.” Brandon tried to be as comforting as possible.

“I know, I know,” I said. “Probably just sleeping in.” I called his cell phone. There was no response. I tried twice more. Still nothing.

When ten rolled around to eleven, I knew he was in some sort of trouble.

We got dressed, the phone silent, no knocks on our door. My stomach filled with knots. “Something’s not right,” I eventually said to my friends.

“Nope,” Koni agreed. “But what do we do?”

“Stay here. I promise, I’ll be right back.”

I ran outside and down to the lobby, jogging to the substation a short distance away. The place was quiet, the bad guys still sleeping or in jail. I walked up to the counter and asked for an officer. One appeared a short while later, Sergeant Beles. I told him who I was and asked if he’d heard anything from Will.

He knew who Will was but said he hadn’t seen him for two days. I told Beles that Will had gone to the substation at about nine the night before. The sergeant flipped through a sign-in book, which they kept for anyone who came through. “Sorry, no. No record of his visit. You sure he was on his way here?”

I told him everything I knew. He shook his head, clearly disturbed. “I’ll call the night-desk officer, Sergeant Sloan. If your agent friend was here, he’ll be able to confirm it.”

The sergeant left to go to his desk, leaving me alone in the sitting area. My heart pumped madly away. I was unable to swallow, to think clearly. I waited, and waited some more. He returned, shaking his head. “Sorry, he was never here.”

“Fuck,” I moaned. “That means he didn’t make it. They know what he looks like. He was at Jed’s hideout. There were cameras there. They picked him up. I know it.”

I started to hyperventilate. The room began to spin. Will was gone. Captured. Possibly dead. The lights overhead grew dim, dimmer still.

Then everything went suddenly and completely black. (And that cued music reaches its crescendo.)

Chapter 5

Reinforcements Called

I awoke in my bed. The shades were drawn, the room cast in pale light. “Must’ve been a bad dream,” I said to myself, sitting up on my elbows with a mighty yawn.

“’Fraid not,” came the startling reply from off to my right. It was Brandon. “You were gone a long time, so I came looking for you. You blacked out. The sergeant told me everything. He’ll be in touch when they find Will.”

I groaned. “
If
.”

“They’ll find him. Not good politics to let a federal agent go missing. Plus, he’ll identify himself to his captors. No one wants that shit on their shoulders. They’ll probably release him when they find out they’ve kidnapped someone with the FBI.”

“Or bury him under twenty tons of beach sand,” I countered, a heavy frown on my face.

“Nah, Will’s a bright guy, sleeping with you the one exception. He’ll be fine.”

“Gee, thanks. I think.” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts, scattered as they now were. I looked up at him. “What are we gonna do next?”

He smiled and rubbed my back. “Smart thing or typical-us stupid thing?”

“Lay both of them on me, just to be on the safe side.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I thought you’d say. The smart thing, obviously, would be to let the police handle this. But, seeing as Lenny and Buck are both dead and Jed is still missing, maybe that’s not the best option,” he offered.

“Meaning,” I interrupted, “they need the help of two part-time drag divas and a streetwise prostitute/drug dealer?”

“Without their knowledge, of course. Pro bono work, let’s just say.”

“Of course.”

He forced a laugh. “Hey, look on the bright side, good buddy. We have several points in our favor.”

“Such as?” I asked, skeptically.

“Such as: they only ever saw Will, not us; we have fabulous new undercover clothes; we now have an in with Liko, who doesn’t know that our alter-egos are, in fact, us; Koni has other street connections, who in the future will only know our alter-egos;
and
we have a secret weapon.”

As he spoke, I raised a finger for each positive item. When he reached number five, my pinky went up half way. “Huh? What secret weapon is that? Your sluttiness only ever helps you.”

He punched me in the arm. (So much for his tender side.) “We have a secret weapon, dear Chase, and she’s already on her way here.”

I gulped. “You mean... you mean my
mom
is coming?”

Again he punched me. “No, idiot. Briana is coming. I called her as soon as we made it back here with your heavy, lifeless ass in tow. Between the three of us, we should have enough functioning brain cells to solve this puppy.”

Ah, Briana. Brandon’s sister. Just as conniving, ruthless, and even more beautiful. Brains to Brandon’s brawn. Our secret weapon had a self-destruct button that could wipe out half the Hawaiian Islands. Meaning Briana, the smartest of our trio, not to mention soberest (mostly), was probably a smart option. Plus, if anyone could take care of themselves, not to mention us, it was definitely her. So, were we any safer? No. Comforted? Yes. Anyway, I couldn’t argue; she was already miles over the ocean.

I hazarded a smile. “Good thinking,” I told him. “If we’re in this thing up to our asses, might as well include hers; it’s bigger by far.”

“Better hope she doesn’t hear you say that,” he cautioned.

“Point taken.” (Yes, we were duly and rightfully terrified of her.) I looked at the clock; it was already two o’clock. It would take Briana a good five hours to reach us. “What do we do until she gets here?”

“If you’re up for it, we promised the kid some snorkeling. I think we should at least give the police one day to do their best, anyway. Tomorrow, if Will doesn’t turn up, and I’m sure he will, safe and sound, then we’ll be in full force and devise a plan.”

My stomach did a back-flip, followed by a routine on the uneven bars. How could I go enjoy myself when Will was missing? Then again, waiting by the phone, knowing it probably wouldn’t ring, would be excruciating. And truth be told, a small part of me believed what Brandon had said. Who would hold or kill a federal agent? These guys were bad, but probably not stupid.

“Fine, get the kid and let’s go,” I told him, forcing a pained smile.

“He’s waiting next door. I already arranged for a taxi. No fucking limos. The cab driver is outside,” he informed me, handing me a concealed cocktail.

Again, I grinned. “Speaking of brain cells, I think you used the rest of yours up during the last two hours.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, ushering me out the door. “I’m running on gin-soaked fumes at this point.”

***

The three of us hopped inside the waiting taxi. Koni snuggled up to me. “Good to see you up and at ‘em, Cute Dude,” he said.

“Thanks,” I replied, mussing up his hair. “Now let’s hope the fish are ready for us.”

To which Brandon promptly added, “Let’s hope
we’re
ready for us. I’ve never been snorkeling before. And muscles sink. You’re just lucky you’ve got that big, old, fat head of yours; you should float nicely.”

I leaned over and socked him one in the arm. He reached over and smacked me upside the head. Koni sighed. “What the fuck have I gotten myself into? You’re supposed to be the adults here.”

“Says who?” Brandon asked.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Says who?”

We traveled the rest of the way in silence. It was a ten-mile ride to Hanauma Bay along a tranquil highway, green mountains in the distance, beautiful homes on all sides. Arriving here takes your very breath away, the natural beauty so dazzling as to be otherworldly, especially since the bay was formed in an ancient volcanic crater, making it that much more stupendous to experience. Now a nature reserve, I’d read, the number of daily visitors is limited, the purpose more educational, preservation a key focus.

That being said, we were there to take our minds off of things, however temporarily. And education had never been high on our list of priorities. Call me shallow, but we were, after all, snorkeling in a relatively non-deep bay, so the description would be appropriate. In any case, we rented our gear, watched the safety video, and were off.

The water was warm, the bay a brilliant blue, shimmering in the mid-afternoon sun. Honu heads bobbed up not twenty feet out, and just below the surface swam trumpet fish, angel fish, and umuhumunukunukuapuaa -- the Hawaiian state fish and international tongue-twister -- plus dozens of other varieties of tropical fish, all in abundant colors and shapes, lurching in and out of the coral, some avoiding us, others curious and friendly, swimming by as if we were one of them.

It was, despite everything, an incredible day, though, of course, completely impossible to enjoy. Oh, sure, for the sake of my companions I put on a brave face, as I’m sure they did for me, but inside I was a bloody mess. Thoughts of Will chained in a room somewhere, or worse, filled my waterlogged brain.

When we’d gotten our fill, both of the fish and the water they shat in, we packed up our stuff and watched the sunset from along a ridge overlooking the bay, the sun sinking rapidly in a fiery blaze, turning the sky a dusky pink. It was then that the brief reverie was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone.

“Uh oh,” I said, my heart pounding beneath my sunburnt chest. Then I looked at my cell’s screen. “It’s Will,” I squeaked out, in shock and profound disbelief.

He talked rapidly and in a hushed whisper I could barely hear. The conversation was one-sided and brief. The phone went dead, and that madly pounding heart of mine went
kaboom
.

“What happened? Where is he?” shouted Brandon, bouncing from foot to foot.

I looked at him and then at Koni, and realized I still had to watch what I said. “They picked him up outside the hotel. Four masked men. They think he works for whoever turned in Makani and his boss and is now trying to get to Jed, his captor. And, for sure, someone is after Jed. Will’s pretty certain that he convinced them that it isn’t him. Still, either we find this person or they kill him. A tradeoff, Will said. And no going to the cops. He has no clue where they took him to, and the place has cameras everywhere. If they see any suspicious cars driving around, he’s dead. And he’s also fairly certain they have informants on the force, meaning there’s no one we can trust.”

“But we know that Liko is the bad guy, now,” piped in Brandon. “Let’s just trade him and be done with it.”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s what we think, but we don’t know it for sure. Or, for that matter, why Liko would be looking for Jed. Or why he’d turn in Makani’s boss. Plus, how do we get Liko to a secret hideout in exchange for Will, if it ever comes to that?”

“So what do we do?” Koni asked.

“Will said we had three days to turn something up. He’ll call me then with his whereabouts,” I replied, my lungs and face now burning. “We bring Jed what he wants, he lets Will go.”

“Meaning we still need to go undercover,” Brandon sighed. “This time with no alternative backup.”

I nodded. “Looks that way. Except there is one alternative.”

“What’s that?” Brandon asked.

I forced a brief yet knowing smile. “Our secret weapon fast approaches.”

“Ah,” he ahed, the same smile appearing.

“This chick is that good?” Koni asked. “She some kind of superhero or something?”

“Or something,” we answered together.

We left shortly after that, Koni walking in front as he looked to hail us a cab. Which is when Brandon leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Why didn’t Will tell these kidnappers who he really was?”

To which I whispered back, “Trump card. Just in case.”

“Just in case we don’t get them what they want?”

I gulped and nodded. “But we will, dear Brandon. We will.”

“Plus, there is an upside to all this,” he said, his arm tight around my shoulder.

“Which is?” I asked, my hand around his waist.

“Well, now we get to wear all those great new outfits we bought.”

“Always the eternal optimist,” I quipped.

“My glass, as you often say, is half full, Chase,” he quipped back.

“Then let’s get back to the hotel and fill it up completely. My optimism tank is running on empty.”

“Thank goodness it runs on alcohol,” he said, sidling into the cab that had pulled up.

“Amen for that, Brandon. Amen for that.”

***

Briana arrived in the early evening, her cab pulling up to the Moana as we waited for her on the veranda. She smiled as she approached, her numerous suitcases trailing behind her, ass swaying like the palms overhead.

“What, no drink?” she asked, right off the bat.

Good Boy Scouts that we were, I handed her the one we had waiting. “As if,” I replied.

She laughed. “I should’ve known better.” She downed her drink and craned her neck from side to side. “Nice digs. Seems like we’re moving up in the world.”

“Appears as such,” Brandon agreed. “Minus the couple of murders, a kidnapping, and Chase’s various shenanigans in certain men’s bathrooms.”

The smile left her face. “My room better be nice.”

“Beautiful,” he assured. “And semi-private.”

She shook her head. “Nuh uh. I ain’t no truck driver -- meaning, I don’t do semis.”

“Fine,” I quickly agreed. “Koni can sleep on our pull-out. You can have my room.”

We introduced our ward to our frequent accomplice. “My condolences, kid,” she said. “They don’t play nice.”

“So I’ve discovered,” he agreed, his head bobbing up and down.

The bellhops grabbed her luggage and brought it up to
her
room. She sat in a rocking chair and breathed in deeply. “Nice place to retire to,” she sighed.

Brandon and I laughed. Three people sharing one twisted brain. Scary. Then we filled her in on all the gory details. “Not good,” I ended with.

“Nope. But seemingly par for the course. Bad news follows you two like flies to shit.”

I grimaced. “Um, how about like limes to a daiquiri? Nicer imagery.”

“Either way you put it, it sounds like you’re in it up to your ears,” she said.

“Then we’ll stick with the daiquiri scenario. A much nicer way to go, if you ask me,” Brandon chimed in.

Briana laughed, her cheeks turning a rosy red. “God, I missed you two. Luckily, I had a vacation coming to me at work. In other words, in between sleuthing, there’ll be some pampering. Deal?”

“Do we have a choice?” I asked.

“Um, that would be a no. Now, tell me again everything you know so far, just in case you missed something,” she commanded, which we promptly did. She paused when we were through, mulling it all over, and then started with, “So, if we go under the assumption that Lenny was innocent, we can safely assume that he was set up for some reason. But why set up an innocent man?”

“To throw the police off the trail of the not-so-innocent?” I hazarded.

“Sounds reasonable,” she replied. “The authorities would have both a dealer and a smuggler in custody, and if that smuggler wasn’t really a smuggler, then the supplier would be safe, as would, in theory, the dealer’s boss. Makani would get a reduced sentence and his cohorts would be in the clear. And Lenny would be a proverbial dead end.” We groaned at her choice of words. “Sorry, my bad,” she apologized, and then continued with, “So that leaves two related questions: who set up Lenny, and who did, in fact, turn in Makani’s boss after the fact?”

Koni replied with, “I vote for Liko. Maybe the boyfriends weren’t getting along.”

Briana shook her head. “Maybe, maybe not. For one, it was Makani who turned Lenny in. I don’t see a connection yet between Liko and Makani, nor do I see how Liko could’ve engineered that scenario. Plus, if we’re going with the boyfriend thing, then it could’ve just as easily been Jed that did the setting up. After all, Lenny lived with Jed, not Liko. Seems to me he had better access to Lenny. And, if it was one of the two boyfriends, I doubt they set him up over a lovers’ spat. My guess, there’s some higher power involved in all this. Someone we don’t yet know about.”

Her saying this set something off in my head, the light bulb suddenly clicking on, however dim it was. “Wait,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Will said that he thought the police were involved. If anyone had the power to set this whole mess up, it was them.” And that set us to groaning yet again.