Shattered Palms (Lei Crime Series) (15 page)

BOOK: Shattered Palms (Lei Crime Series)
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Hi, Michael. I just wondered if you got my text. Because—I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you today. Call me when you get this, please. I’m nervous.” Lei hung up, setting the phone down, feeling anxiety rise up, strangling her. She thumped her chest to knock it loose.

She needed a run.

Lei bundled her hair into a rubber band and pulled on her running clothes. Keiki, seeing these signs, whimpered with eagerness, hind end gyrating and toenails clicking. Lei slid the phone into the pocket of her shorts.

Running down the nar
row, jungle-choked road a few minutes later, Keiki galloping beside her, Lei’s mind wandered around like worrying a sore tooth.

Her aunty and father were
working hard at the vacation rental house. She’d dropped Marcella and Sophie off there late last night. Their plan was to help prep during the day. Her own job was to pick up the finished dress and get ready. The hair and makeup people were arriving at the mansion timed for when Lei got there after picking up the dress. They were all supposed to take a limo from the mansion to Kanaha Park.

Lei and her friends
had enjoyed a lovely evening soaking in the baths, getting massages, and having drinks and dinner in the fancy restaurant the hotel sported, built over a tide pool with schools of fish swimming beneath. Lei had only one drink, but in spite of all the activity of the day, she’d had a hard time falling asleep.

Her mind ticked over the details of the wedding. They hadn
’t had a rehearsal, as Tiare said the format was so simple and casual, so it seemed like the next time she’d be seeing Stevens was at the ceremony.

She
really needed to hear his voice.

She took her phone out, frowned at the blank screen. He still hadn
’t called. Just then the phone rang, and she answered it quickly, seeing Pono’s number. She stepped off the narrow road onto the shoulder, stretching her hamstrings. Keiki flopped in the damp grass, panting.


Hey, partner,” she said.


You sound out of breath. Running?”


Yeah. I’m nervous. I told you. What’s up? You didn’t keep my groom out too late partying, did you?”


No, got him home at a decent hour. We won’t even have any embarrassing YouTube videos from the night,” Pono said. “Just wanted to let you know I’m going into the station this morning to get started on the bow you brought in and the other subpoenas. So don’t worry about it. Captain already gave me Gerry Bunuelos to help out while you’re gone.”


Oh good,” Lei said, blowing out a breath of relief. She’d worked with the energetic detective on several cases. “Gerry’s going to be a big help.”


I thought you’d like that. I hope it will let you relax a little more. So, see you at four o’clock at Kanaha Beach Park.”


So Stevens—he’s okay?” Lei found herself rubbing the medallion around her neck and let go of it deliberately.


Sure. Seemed fine. Why?”


Nothing. Just excited to be getting married today!” Lei said with false cheer.


Just show up, Lei. Seriously. It’s going to be okay. He’s a good man, and he loves you. Let him.”


Sound advice from my oldest friend,” Lei said, feeling tears prickle her eyes as a car whisked by. She looked out at the dense, multilayered jungle. “See you soon.”


Oh yeah, Tiare wants a few words.” He handed the phone off to his wife.


Lei, you must be so excited!” Tiare exclaimed.


Actually, I’m terrified. I’m taking a run to calm down before I go pick up the dress.”


Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve been on the phone with your dad and aunt; the food, the setup, the music, the photographer—it’s all a go and should be smooth as silk. You just relax and think about all the sex you’re going to be having later on tonight.”


Ha-ha,” Lei said hollowly. Everybody seemed more in the mood for that than she was. Half the items Tiare had just mentioned hadn’t even crossed her mind, and once again she felt inadequate—but that’s why she had Tiare handling things, she told herself. “I gotta get going, Tiare. I’m on a schedule for the day.”


You sure are. Marcella and I will be backing you up at the ceremony, and like I said, it’s all in hand. Don’t worry about a thing but having fun.”


I can’t thank you enough,” Lei said. “See you soon.” She slid the phone into her pocket, and this time ran as hard as she could, until the thoughts banging around in her head were silenced by the drumbeat of her heart.

 

 

Lei came out of Ohana Wedding
Design in Wailuku, carrying the dress. She draped it in its plastic wrap, like a ghost on a hanger, over the seat beside her. Firing up the truck to drive to the oceanfront estate to get ready, Lei thought of one last thing she could do for the investigation, and doing it would help calm her down, keep her distracted for a little longer. Ranger Jacobsen had said he lived in Wailuku; she could swing by his place and pick up his bow for Pono and rule him out as a suspect.

She pulled down the Toughbook computer in it
s glove-box holder and typed Mark Jacobsen’s name into the DMV database. Sure enough, his name and address popped up in a subdivision nearby.

He was probably at work. She should call first
to see if he was home. If he wasn’t, she’d save a trip, but if he was, he could have the weapon ready for her to pick up. He’d been so helpful with the investigation, she didn’t imagine he’d insist on a subpoena. But when she checked, he hadn’t listed a phone number on his license information.

Lei used her navigation system to find Jacobsen
’s house. The young ranger lived in a duplex in a quiet neighborhood in Wailuku Heights. Lei enjoyed the view down into the valley as she drove carefully over the speed tables in the pleasant suburban neighborhood landscaped in palm trees and well-groomed grass.

Jacobsen
’s truck, a black Tacoma, was parked in the driveway of his address. She pulled up behind his vehicle and got out, straightening folds in the creamy silk of the wedding dress draped over the passenger seat.

Jacobsen had left a
single pair of rubber slippers resting on the rubber mat beside the door of the modest apartment. The door’s wood finish was peeling from the sun. Lei knocked.

Nothing.

Her phone buzzed with a text. She slid it out of the pocket of her jeans, hoping it was Stevens. It was Marcella.

So excited for your big day!
See you at one p.m.

Lei wished she felt the same way.
Instead her stomach was roiling. It was only eleven thirty; there was still plenty of time until one, when she had to meet everyone at the house to primp for the ceremony. She slid the phone back into her pocket and knocked, louder this time.

Still nothing.

His truck was there. Perhaps there was a workshop or something in back, or perhaps he was just sleeping in. It was worth a look.

She walked around
the front of the apartment and through the tidy front yard, bare of any ornamental plantings.

“Ranger Jacobsen?” she called. “Anybody home?”

Her phone buzzed again as she approached a wooden gate on the side of the house
, and she looked down to pull it out of her pocket again.

Lei
felt a sharp tug on her hair and heard a
thunk
across the yard; turning, she saw a black arrow quivering in the ornamental palm across the yard.

Instinct took over and she
dove for the ground, face-planting into the cool, damp grass as the next arrow barely missed her, whizzing by in a silent blur of dark motion. The arrow shattered the spine of a palm frond, breaking it with a swish and crack.

She had to identify herself—m
aybe the ranger felt threatened, hadn’t recognized her. “Jacobsen!” she yelled. “This is Lieutenant Texeira! Police, stop!”

In answer, another arrow buried itself in the ground.

Lei didn’t have body armor on. She didn’t have her weapon; her ID was in the truck. She’d been distracted, gotten sloppy, and dismissed pleasant-faced young Jacobsen as just a helpful ranger. Now she was pinned to the ground in the open, a proverbial sitting duck, with no real idea where he was shooting from.

Lei
tucked her arms tight against her body and rolled as fast as she could across the lawn until she fetched up against the house. Looking back, she saw two arrows quivering in the earth where she’d been.

She dug her
phone out of her pocket and called 911. “Officer needs assistance!” She identified herself and her badge number, flattening herself against the side of the house and slowly sliding to stand upright.


Stay where you are, Lieutenant,” the 911 operator said. “Do not try to follow the suspect. Help is on the way.”


Roger that,” Lei said, and slid the phone back into her pocket. She was pretty sure that the angle of the house prevented him getting a bead on her, but the thought of one of those hardened-steel, razor-edged arrows burying itself in her body didn’t appeal. She’d seen the damage they could do.

From where she was, she heard thumps inside the house. He was escaping!
She stayed as flat as she could, sidling along the building until she got to the gate. Reaching out a hand, she pressed down on the metal latch. It wouldn’t budge—locked. She turned to look up just above her—a simple slider window was open, and only a screen separated her from access into the house.

She grabbed the top of the wooden fence, hoisted herself up, and swung a jeans-covered leg up to kick at the screen
. It flew inward with a disturbing clatter.

Her arms were trembling. She didn
’t have strength to climb in yet, so she dropped back to the ground—but now she’d alerted Jacobsen to her whereabouts and provided a nice open window for him to shoot her from. How she wished she’d brought her Glock—but she hadn’t planned on the stop going deadly. The smart course was to run back to her truck, get in, and lock the doors—she at least had a can of pepper spray in the glove box.

S
he jumped up to grasp the window frame—and heard the front door slam. He was going for his vehicle—but she’d blocked him in. He wouldn’t be able to get away. He’d have to return to the house—unless he left on foot.

Lei
hoisted herself up into the window frame, kicking her legs to propel herself over the ledge and into the room. The metal edge of the frame caught on the button of her jeans, digging into her hips and suddenly reminding her she might not be alone in her body—she might be putting someone else at risk too.


Dammit,” she muttered, thinking this kind of activity was another good reason she shouldn’t be a mother. She landed gracelessly on the wood laminate floor of what appeared to be Jacobsen’s bedroom, if the untidy twin bed and piles of clothes on the floor were any indication. She scrambled to her feet, looking for a weapon, anything she could use if Jacobsen came back in—and spotted an aluminum bat propped behind the door.

Lei
grabbed it and hefted it, walking on the balls of her feet to the doorway, peering down the hall.

She heard the roar of Jacobsen
’s truck starting. What was the point of that, when she had him blocked in? Then she heard the rumble of his garage door going up. She trotted through the house to the front door in time to see Jacobsen pull deep into the garage, trying to get enough space to reverse out past her vehicle.

Armed with just a bat, Lei had no hope of stopping the truck
, and she didn’t want to step out of the doorway and expose herself in case he had a weapon. Looking around frantically, she spotted several of the bows she’d been after hanging on a rack on the wall—and beside them, a quiver of arrows. She ran over and grabbed one of the lightweight, bulky contraptions off the wall along with a handful of arrows and dashed back to the door.

The black Tacoma was already reversing past her truck, and it slammed into the side, tearing off her mirror and scraping down the paint.

“Shit!” Lei exclaimed as she loaded an arrow into the channel above the grip. She cocked the string back, a surprising effort that, once cocked, was easy to hold. She aligned it with her ear and, sighting down the channel, shot the arrow at the truck’s tire.

It hit the ground and bou
nced, spinning. Clearly her archery skills needed work.

She cocked
another arrow as the Tacoma reversed into the road and, burning rubber, roared away. She shot, but the arrow just pinged harmlessly off the back bumper.


Gotta work on my aim,” Lei muttered, lowering the bow. She reengaged the 911 operator and described the fleeing truck and its make and model. “Get an APB out on it right away.”

Next she called Pono.
“Got a lot of bows here in Jacobsen’s living room. Happy to report I’m also still alive.”

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