Mahu Blood (23 page)

Mike and I were early enough to miss the dinner rush, and by six we were seated, tearing into garlic rolls and digging into an antipasto platter. I felt like I hadn’t eaten for days.

“Slow down, tiger,” Mike said. “They aren’t taking the food MAhu BLood
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away from you. Jeez, you eat like Roby.”

“You say the sweetest things.” I smiled at him, glad once again that I was out of the sex and dating circuit that had been so dangerous for Adam O’Malley.

But that made me think about my case again and what I had ahead of me. When I had some food in my stomach, I felt ready to say, “The meeting I had this morning. It was with an attorney for Kingdom of Hawai’i. He said he had some information he didn’t want to pass on in public, so Ray and I arranged to meet him at his apartment.”

“So?”

“He was dead when we got there.”

Mike nodded. “I’d say that’s a complication.”

“There’s more, though. He was gay, this attorney. And he might have gotten killed by a guy he picked up at The Garage last night.”

The waiter brought our entrees, and Mike didn’t speak as he busied himself cutting his veal and tossing his pasta with the freshly grated parmesan.

“I should go over to The Garage tonight and see if anyone saw who this attorney was with,” I said, looking down at my chicken piccata.

“And you were thinking that I would go with you,” Mike said.

I looked up at him.

“Because I know you were not thinking you were going to that sleazy bar by yourself. You need adult supervision.”

“Really?” I said, smiling. My foot brushed against his leg.

“And are you my supervisor?”

“Well, for sure, I’m the responsible adult in this relationship.”

He smiled back at me. “I know I need to trust you more. You’ve never given me any doubt. But it makes me crazy to think of you going to a bar by yourself, flirting or fooling around with some other guy.”

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We ate in silence for a few minutes, both of us finishing our dishes, and then Mike said, “The Garage. You ever been there?”

“A couple of times, in the past. The Rod and Reel is more my speed.”

“I went there once. They have that bar in the back where they show the videos.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I said.

“I might have gotten a little carried away, when I was drinking.” Mike had gone on a couple of binges while we were apart, leading his father to believe he was an alcoholic, but I’d never pressed for details.

I speared the last piece of my chicken and pushed the empty plate away. “Carried away how?”

“Somehow I ended up naked, imitating Jennifer Beals in
Flashdance
.”

I burst out laughing. “Man, I wish I’d been there for that.

There isn’t a video on YouTube, is there?”

“Thankfully not. I could never go back after that, though.”

“Gee, we’ll have to see if anyone recognizes you tonight.

Asks for an encore performance.”

“I’m a private dancer now.”

“You and Tina Turner. Ooh, strut that stuff, baby.”

“Get out of here,” he said, laughing and kicking my leg under the table.

We walked around Waikīkī for a while after dinner. The streets were packed with tourists and locals enjoying the holiday weekend. We strolled down Kalākaua toward Queen’s Surf, the gay beach just before the aquarium, away from some of the neon and bustle from the strip. We held hands and sat on the curb overlooking the beach.

I wondered if I would have ended up like this, in love with Mike and settled down, if I hadn’t been dragged out of the closet a few years before. Would I be like O’Malley, hiding my MAhu BLood
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sexuality and picking up dangerous guys in bars? I’d done a few stupid things when I was single, despite my cop instincts and training, and I was lucky I’d never had any problems bigger than a couple of angry exes and a painful, though not deadly, visit to the emergency room.

The tide was coming in and the breeze smelled of salt and dead fish, but I was happy to be there with Mike. From the way he squeezed my hand, I had an inkling he felt the same way.

Shortly after eleven, we got up and walked back to where I’d parked my Jeep. I had a picture of O’Malley with me, one I’d picked up from his bureau, and I showed it to Mike as we drove to The Garage.

“Handsome guy,” Mike said, and stretched his long frame back in the seat. “What kind of thing was he into?”

“We found him tied up, with a big black dildo sticking out of his ass,” I said. “Creeped me out. Ray had to hold my hand for a while, metaphorically speaking.”

Mike shook his head. “That guy is way too tolerant. I expect you to be trading blow job tips with him any day.”

“Been there, done that.” I laughed at how quickly Mike’s head swiveled around. “Not.”

“So was he the kind of guy you’d go for?” Mike asked. “This attorney?”

“You know my deal, sweetheart. I like sex a lot better when I’m with a guy I love. I love you. You’re the first guy I can say that about. So sex with you is better than with anyone else. Ever.”

“Good answer. Keep that in mind if anybody flirts with you tonight.”

“Me?” I asked. “You’re the big handsome firefighter stud with the sexy mustache. While I’m asking questions about a dead guy, you’re the one the boys will be swarming over.”

It was still early, so there was only a short line outside The Garage, the bouncer checking IDs. He waved us both in.

“Great, too old to be carded,” I grumbled as we walked into
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the darkened room, with neon wrapping the walls below the ceiling level. The place was decorated with gasoline memorabilia, with an old-fashioned gas pump along one wall. The floor was bare concrete, the DJ station behind glass windows as if it was where the clerk would stay.

Groups of two and three guys leaned against the walls and talked. A rap song pounded out through the sound system, and two men danced in the center of the room. There were two bartenders; I stepped up to talk to the cuter one while Mike went to order a beer from the other.

I palmed my shield and said, “Can I ask you some questions?”

The bartender was barely legal, a skinny haole in a tight tank top that showed his nipple rings. He had piercings in his eyebrow, his ears, his lip and who knew where else, though I could guess.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

I showed him O’Malley’s picture. “Recognize this guy?”

He took the picture from me, turned to the bar back where the light was better. When he handed the photo back to me he said, “Yeah. He comes in sometimes on Thursday nights.”

“Was he here last night?”

The guy nodded.

“You see him leave with anyone?”

He might have looked brainless, but he wasn’t. “Shit.

Somebody hurt him?”

“Last night.”

“Sometimes he leaves alone, sometimes he doesn’t,” the bartender said. “Last night, he left with this tough-looking dude, tats up and down his arms. He was making a play for your guy, for sure.”

“Making a play how?”

“I saw him come up to your guy at the bar, start talking. Put his arm around him, that kind of thing. They didn’t dance or anything, just hung out and drank and played around.”

MAhu BLood
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“You recognize him?”

“He’s been in a couple of times before, but I don’t know his name.”

“If we find him, you think you could pick him out of a lineup?”

“I can try.”

“Any other regulars who might have noticed something last night?”

“Thursday night’s a specialized clientele,” he said. “Hard hats night, you know. Tonight the promo’s for younger guys. Different group entirely.”

“I understand. Mahalo.” I went down the bar and spoke to the other bartender, who hadn’t noticed O’Malley or his mystery date.

I looked around at the interesting mix of guys. Older men, all races. A couple of middle-aged business types, looking scared.

Some younger guys, the kind I might expect to see at a meeting of my gay teen group. And a guy like the one O’Malley had picked up the night before, with sunglasses propped on his head, as if he’d need them in the dim room. A sleeveless gray T-shirt showcased his beefy biceps. He wore loose athletic shorts that hung low on his hips and backless sandals.

He didn’t have tattoos on his arms, though, so I gave up and scanned the crowd, looking for tall, dark and handsome. I spotted him in a corner, drinking a Bud and flirting with a young blond with a buzz cut.

I walked up and put my hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Ready to go?” I asked.

“We’re talking here,” the blond said.

Mike looked amused. He drained the last of his beer and put the bottle down on a nearby table. Then he leaned back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, stretching his pants tight and displaying his ample endowment.

I turned to the blond. “Beat it. He’s mine. I’m tougher than
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you are, I’m better in bed and I carry a gun. Get it?”

“Hey, fuck you,” the blond said, but he turned away.

I wasn’t exactly on duty, at least I wasn’t going to put in an overtime sheet for this trip to the bar or for my unofficial surveillance later that night at the Wing Wah.

The DJ segued to a Lady Gaga song and turned the volume up high. “You want to hang around here for a while, or you want to go?” I yelled into Mike’s ear.

“Neither.” He shook his head. “I want to make out.”

He grabbed me around the ass and pulled me toward him. His kiss was loose and beery, and I wondered if maybe he’d downed more than one bottle while waiting for me to finish questioning the bartenders.

But then I got caught up in the moment. Our bodies swayed in time to the music, and I felt his stiff dick grinding into my thigh. I got hard, too, and everything around us fell away as I kissed him, this man I loved.

We were putting on a show for the guys around us, who were on the prowl, after all, most of them strangers to each other.

After Mike and I had kissed and felt each other up for a while, he led me to the back bar, where an X-rated film was playing on a couple of plasma TVs. A guy in an obviously fake police uniform was getting his dick sucked by a punk.

Mike said, into my ear, “Cops. You know that excites me.” He slid hand into the waistband of my jeans, teasing the tip of my dick with his index finger.

“You’re bad,” I said, leaning up against his ear. “You’re going to make me come in my pants.”

He leaned down and kissed me again.

I whispered in his ear, “Wish I could stick around, stud, but I’ve got another date. In Chinatown.”

wiNNeRs ANd LoseRs

I dropped Mike back where he’d parked his truck and drove into Chinatown. It was the end of a long week, and I wanted nothing more than to relax and enjoy the Labor Day weekend.

But I had a new murder on my plate and one more thing to do that night before I could go home and get some rest. I had to stake out the pai gow game, unofficially, and do my best to make sure nothing bad happened to my oldest brother.

I parked a couple of blocks from the Wing Wah and joined Ray in his Highlander shortly before midnight, where I told him what I’d learned at the bar. Even though the night was cool, I couldn’t help sweating, waiting for the game to break up. Ray and I tried to figure out where the FBI guys were, but we couldn’t make them.

Close to two a.m., two Ford sedans and a squad car drove up and parked right in front of the restaurant’s side door.

“Something’s going down,” Ray said.

Two uniforms stepped out of the squad, while five guys in FBI piled out of the Fords. I recognized Salinas as he walked up to the door and pounded on it.

“FBI! Open up!” we heard him yell.

There was no response from behind the door so he stepped aside and an agent holding a rammer stepped up. It was about forty pounds, basically a concrete tube with handles. The agent holding it smashed the door handle, destroying the lock, so that the door swung open. Then he stepped aside as the rest of the team streamed in. He dropped the rammer, swung his gun around and followed them in.

My heart rate accelerated as I watched. “My brother’s probably pissing his pants right now.”

The two uniforms pulled their weapons and led the way through the open door, with Salinas right behind them.

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“I’m going to scoot over there and see what I can hear,” I said, opening the Highlander’s passenger door.

“No you’re not.” Ray grabbed my arm. “You’ll only get in the way.”

I sighed. “You’re right.” I closed the door. “But I hate sitting here waiting, not knowing what’s going on.”

“Trust Salinas.”

“You obviously haven’t worked with the FBI enough to know how dumb that statement sounds.”

A man too thin and short to be my brother stepped through the door, stumbling in his haste to get away. He scurried down the street like a cockroach when you turn the lights on. A minute later, he was followed by another man, who behaved the same way.

“Jesus, what’s going on?” I said.

“You know,” Ray said. “You’ve been there. They’re questioning each guy, searching them and then letting them go one by one.”

I did know that, but it didn’t make me feel any better about my brother. Two more men came out, and then Lui appeared, silhouetted in the light from the room behind him.

“I’m going after him. Can you hang around and see how things play out?”

“Sure.”

I jumped out of the car and ran to my brother. “Lui! Hold up!”

He pivoted as I reached him, and he reached around and grabbed me in a big hug. I could smell liquor on his breath.

“What happened in there?” I asked, pulling back.

“I won, brah!” he crowed. “That fucker Tanaka made me the banker, trying to drive me even further into the hole, but I came out ahead.”

I was so surprised at once again hearing my brother curse that it took me a minute to process. “So you didn’t lose any of your MAhu BLood
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inheritance?”

Lui laughed. “I didn’t make back everything I owe Tanaka, but I walked away with a stack of bills. I didn’t even count it yet. You know that song, ‘you don’t count your money as you’re sitting at the table.’”