Elysium tide, p.18
Elysium Tide, page 18
Lisa crossed her arms, looking down her nose at him. “You’re saying she tried to walk that line with Trejo?”
“I got word she’d offered to do a boost for him. Found him at his place near Twin Falls. Can you believe that girl?” He laughed, and then the smile fled, and his voice tightened. “She went lookin’ for the devil and found him. Soon as I found out, I warned her off, ya? Put my foot down. No way I was gonna let Trejo get his hand around her throat the way he had it around Angelica’s.”
Fear. Mia’s autopsy had told them Angelica had been living in fear. “What do you mean when you say Trejo had his hand around Angelica’s throat?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. That’s why she ran the barricade—got herself killed. Can’t say why Angelica joined up with Trejo, but once she became his favorite, she had no way out.” Koa took his eyes away from Lisa’s. “I don’t know what he did to that girl. Don’t want to know. But he told her if she tried to leave him, so much as got herself arrested, he’d kill her mom, ya? That’s how Trejo rolls.”
Peter caught Lisa’s eye—a request for permission. She gave him a nod, and he shifted his gaze to Koa. “You placed your throat in Trejo’s grip in place of Kelly’s, is that it? You offered yourself up to keep Kelly from becoming Angelica?”
Koa snorted. “Not exactly, Doc. When I warned Kelly off, Trejo saw it as a weakness. From then on, he owned me. Kelly was his free-roaming hostage, like Angelica’s mom. He said if I didn’t play, he’d hurt her, frame her, kill her—I wouldn’t know which till it was too late.”
“So, what changed?” Lisa asked.
“She did, Cuz. When I put my foot down, Kelly told me she was plannin’ to ditch the job anyway. She didn’t like Trejo’s big-money game. Said it was wrong. She was gonna rat him out.” He raised an eyebrow at the skeptical look Lisa gave him. “What? Don’t believe me ’cause she didn’t say nothin’ when you went to see her? Like I said before. You a big scary cop now. Kelly couldn’t build up her nerve, and that was fine with me. I told her to keep her mouth shut.”
Kelly couldn’t build up her nerve. Lisa kept her expression still and stern, but inside she crumpled. A girl she had carried in her arms had been afraid to come to her. Lisa had found grace, and should have been reflecting that grace, but she’d become a frightening figure to Kelly. Had the hard façade she put up as a detective cost her the chance to save Kelly’s life?
“Lisa.” Peter leaned over the console, squinting out at the waves off the bow. “Where’d your brother put those night vision scopes? Something’s out there.”
The rookie itch. “Not now, Peter.”
Koa had mentioned Trejo’s big-money operations. Meth, maybe? Was that where Kelly had drawn the line? Lisa could relate. And if word had gotten back to Trejo that Kelly planned to give him up, Lisa would have solid motive to write on her murder board. “Let’s get back to the collapsing stands.”
“Don’t know. But I’d say it was a warning, Cuz. The boosted cars were a bonus. Trejo works all the angles all the time. It shook Kelly up, the way he went after her fans, but she still planned on talkin’.”
“Lisa, I’m not imagining this.” Peter had found a scope. He held it fixed on a point on the black surface a good distance from the boat. “I think I’m looking at a . . . No. It can’t be.”
“I said, not now.” Lisa was so close to having everything she needed to wrap this up—except for having Trejo in custody, and with a murder charge backing the manhunt, she could remedy that soon enough. “Koa, can you confirm Trejo knew Kelly planned to talk? Did you hear her tell him or one of his people she wanted to come forward about his meth operation?”
“Meth? Who said anything about meth? Oh, Cuz. This is so much bigger than drugs and boosted cars. Trejo’s got—”
“Look out!”
Peter rushed at her, arms wide for a tackle. The impact of his body lifted her airborne, and the two went flying together over the stern. The boat exploded behind them.
CHAPTER
FORTY
THE HEAT AND ROAR of the blast gave way to cool water and rushing silence. Pain flooded Peter’s skull, but he held his awareness enough to remember he needed to let go of Lisa. She pushed away from him and disappeared in the blur.
Fire burned above the swirling blue, like lanterns behind stained glass. He knew the right answer for the situation from his long-ago naval training—like knowing a procedure from a surgical textbook. But putting knowledge into action was something else entirely. Get clear. Surface. Breathe. Kick. Now.
His legs didn’t move.
The pain.
A hand gripped his shoulder. Lisa? Peter managed to catch his rescuer’s forearm and felt a soft layer of neoprene. A wet suit.
The person spun him around and he came face-to-face with a shifting ghost. He took the misshapen head to be that of a diver in a scuba mask. Though, with the regulator and hoses, it also gave him the impression of some evil half-squid creature. The monster kept its hold on his shoulder and thrust its other arm at his sternum. Peter heard a muted click, felt the jarring impact of steel on steel—a knife tip breaking against the plate in his bullet-proof vest.
Air.
Breathe.
Kick.
Can’t breathe. Can’t kick.
The creature had tried to stab him in the chest. It wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Next time, it would go for his neck. It did, but Peter’s hand was waiting and caught its wrist. He wrenched it over. Had the knife fallen free? He couldn’t tell. Looking up, he saw the blue stained glass of the surface and the lanterns behind it seemed farther away than before.
Peter clawed at the sea monster’s mask, regulator, anything. But it dodged him, and so he devoted both hands to its wrist and the knife that might or might not be there. A knife that either was or wasn’t because he couldn’t observe it.
Schrödinger’s knife. Peter felt like laughing.
Air.
Breathe.
Kick.
Can’t breathe. Can’t kick.
His head and lungs screamed.
Peter knew of one knife he could observe, at least by feel. A practical blade would outmatch the creature’s theoretical blade. He risked letting go of the wrist with one hand and drew the knife Pika had given him from its sheath.
The creature saw. Stupid mask. Unfair advantage. The creature grabbed Peter’s wrist, and the two slowly spiraled.
The lanterns above were so far away. They rushed apart as the stained glass shattered, broken by another dark creature diving straight for Peter. He couldn’t fend off another one. He only had two arms and the one nontheoretical knife.
Air.
Breathe.
Kick.
Peter couldn’t kick. There was no air.
This was the end.
His mouth opened on its own. The sea poured in.
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
MAUI MEMORIAL MEDICAL CENTER
LISA HATED HOSPITAL GOWNS. Feeling the rough, overused linen against her skin took her back to her worst days, back to big mistakes and bruised cheeks. A hospital gown meant too much exposure. It meant uncomfortable questions from a nurse and an inevitable visit from the cops, none of whom seemed to care if she lived or died—none except Clay.
The weight of the knock at her door told her it was Pika.
“Give me a sec.” She hadn’t worn the gown a second longer than necessary. She finished buttoning the jeans he’d delivered earlier and opened the door. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself, Sis. You okay?”
“I’m fine. The tests were just a precaution.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah. I know.” Lisa backed up and sat on the bed, lowering her gaze. “Peter tried to warn me. I should have listened. If I’d had two more seconds, I could have . . .”
“You could have what, Sis?”
“I could have saved him.”
Pika sat beside her, his weight depressing the mattress so much she fell against him. Lisa didn’t mind. She let him put his arm around her. He squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t know that. For all you know, walking to the front of the boat to get a look mighta put you in a worse spot—given you less time. And don’t give up. The docs are still working.”
“Tuna said the chances were slim.”
“Yeah.” Pika gave her a smile that didn’t fool her, and sure didn’t seem to fool him. “A slim chance is better than no chance every day o’ the week.”
A white coat appeared in the door’s narrow window, and an empty gray feeling hit Lisa’s chest before the lever even moved.
The look on the surgeon’s face left no doubt. Tuna, entering behind him, looked equally defeated. “I’m sorry,” the surgeon said. “We did all we could. He’s gone.”
Lisa buried her head in her brother’s shoulder, where she could feel the shuddering in his chest. She didn’t sob. Her tears were quiet, held inside like Pika’s. They’d known Koa most of their lives. For years, he’d been the boy father who stepped into their dad’s shoes and the shoes of five other dads—a void he wasn’t capable of filling and was never meant to. She straightened, wiping her eyes. “I could have done more. I should have.”
Pika gave her a frown. “We just talked about this, ya?”
“Not tonight. I mean before. I didn’t speak to him for years, didn’t ask about him. And when I finally did hunt him down, it was for an interrogation. The same with Kelly. We were ʻohana because we had no one else. But when I found a new family in Christ, I didn’t do anything to invite them along.”
Tuna thanked the surgeon and released him, then walked closer to the bed where she sat with Pika. “I treated Koa’s boo-boos the same as I treated yours. But his wounds grew progressively more serious each time until the day I retired. Cuts from a broken window became stab wounds. The same wrist that broke in a fall, broke years later when he beat some poor boy down. I’m not blaming him, but Koa was rushing toward this moment no matter how hard I or anyone else tried to turn his path.”
“I could have tried.”
“We both could,” Pika said.
The doctor didn’t argue. “I know this is a difficult time and a crushing loss. But I do have some good news. Our friend Peter is awake and alert and self-diagnosing up a storm. I hear he’s already ordered a couple of tests.” Tuna centered his gaze on Lisa. “You’d better go and get control before he takes full command of the residents.”
“BUT I DON’T LIKE JELL-O, green or otherwise.”
The nurse raised a flat hand as she departed, leaving the jiggling green mass on Peter’s tray where she’d set it moments before. Apparently being a surgeon-slash-patient was an invitation for a terrible bedside manner.
Peter realized that some of the fault might lie with him. The pain of breathing had made him disagreeable. But still. Jell-O?
As soon as the door clicked closed, it opened again.
Peter held out the Jell-O cup. “Oh good, you’ve reconsidered. Now if you wouldn’t mind—”
Not a nurse. He set the cup down. “Hello, Detective.”
She’d come alone. No bandages that he could see. Tuna had given him a glowing report, but he’d needed to see for himself. Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to see her. What did that mean?
Lisa gave him a smile. “Detective? Are we back to formalities, or have you lost a full day of memory?”
“Sorry. Lisa.” He slid the Jell-O toward her. “Want some?”
“No thank you.”
“It’ll only go to waste.”
“I’m okay with that.” She set his new mobile down next to the Jell-O. “I brought you this.”
“Thanks. Mobile giving is becoming a sort of tradition with us, eh?” He tried to laugh and winced. “Ouch. I’ll be hurting for a while, I suppose.”
“You should know. You’re the doctor. Peter, what do you remember?”
He remembered a great deal, but he knew some of it was a terrible fiction from the nightmares that came after the water flooded his lungs—black memories of writhing monsters. At least, he hoped it was fiction. “I remember the explosion. Stinging thumps against my back. The fire. A diver dragged me down. I remember a knife.” Peter crinkled his brow. “Perhaps two knives. That part’s a bit fuzzy. I sank a long way. And then I saw a second man—a big one—and I knew I was done for.”
Done for. Lights out.
The end?
All Peter’s medical knowledge, even his Royal Navy training, couldn’t have saved him. In that moment, all control over his fate had been stripped away, the way his control over Kelly’s fate had been stripped away.
Lisa picked up the Jell-O and dropped it in the hazardous waste bin beside his bed, plastic spoon and all. “The big guy you saw was Pika. He tore your attacker’s mask off and pulled you up—said you were so deep that the two of you might have broken all of Kelly’s freediving records.”
“And the attacker?”
“Pika didn’t waste time going after him. He knew you were in trouble. You weren’t breathing when he got you to the surface, even after we got the water out.”
Not breathing. Tuna hadn’t mentioned that part. Peter narrowed his eyes. “Which one of you did mouth to mouth?”
She walked to the end of the bed. He had to wonder if she’d used the maneuver to hide a smile.
“What about you?” he asked. “Where did you go after we fell in?”
“You mean after you tackled me off the boat?”
Peter started to protest, but Lisa held up a hand. “Thank you, by the way. You saved my life. And then Pika saved it again by taking a shot at the man who tried to drag me down.”
“There were two divers.”
She nodded. “Pika was the X-factor. If he’d have been on the runabout with us, either the explosion or the divers would have killed us all. But he was still on the trawler, going through Koa’s stuff for evidence.”
Lisa rubbed the back of her neck, exposing a bruise. So, she hadn’t come out of it unscathed. “After we went in, I pushed away and surfaced clear of the fire, close to the trawler. A diver caught my ankle and tried to drag me down, but Pika was right there with the Mossberg. One shot, and the guy let go.”
“Did your brother kill him?”
“Don’t know. In the dark, with the fire, shooting through the surface. He couldn’t see if he’d hit the guy, and we couldn’t tell if there was blood in the water. All I know is that no body surfaced. Then Pika grabbed a mask he’d seen while going through the pilothouse cabinets and dove in to find you. He says he saw you almost instantly. And not long after we pulled you out, the Coast Guard arrived. Both of those factors beat some dim odds, Peter.” She paused for a few heartbeats, then shrugged one shoulder. “You should think about that.”
He knew what she meant. But he didn’t want to think about it—not right now, in the bright light of a hospital room with clean sheets and green Jell-O to reject if he chose. “Pika showed great presence of mind to remember the mask and great calm to use it with such effectiveness. The shotgun is one thing, but to realize in that moment that a scuba mask meant the difference between life and death? He’s an exceptional officer.”
“I know.”
“Have you told him?”
Peter gathered from the way her hands slid into the pockets of her jeans that she hadn’t. He didn’t press. They were both avoiding the important lessons. What a pair they made. “And Koa?”
She shook her head.
“I’m sorry. Not to be crass about it, but I’m sure you know you’ve lost more than an old acquaintance. He was your big witness against Trejo. We’re back to square one, as it were.”
Her eyes came up to meet his, no longer the eyes of Pika’s sister or Koa’s old friend. Peter saw only the detective.
“We lost a witness,” she said. “But we haven’t lost the case. I now have two murders, the assault and attempted murder of a civilian, the assault and attempted murder of two police officers, and enough circumstantial evidence to pin it all on one known 18th Street felon.” Lisa returned to his side and rested a hand on his bedrail. “You’re about to see what a former LA cop can do when she lights a fire under a sleepy island PD with one of the highest officer/citizen ratios in the nation.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
MAUI PD CRIMINAL INVESTIGATIVE DIVISION
LISA’S MURDER BOARD FILLED UP FAST once she returned to the CID the next morning. Her timeline had few numbers, but it had plenty of events.
According to Koa, after Trejo muscled him out of his territory, Kelly had gone to the gang lord to ask for an auto theft job. Koa had stepped in to protect her, unwittingly making Kelly a greater target and a free-roaming hostage, as he had put it. But Kelly had seen something she didn’t like in Trejo’s operation. Lisa made a tick through her line and labeled it with the words Kelly visits Trejo, big money, and a question mark. She heard Koa’s voice in her head.
Meth? Who said anything about meth? . . . This is so much bigger than drugs and boosted cars.
Whatever Kelly had seen, she’d threatened to reveal, earning herself a couple of warnings and a death sentence. Lisa darkened the marks where she’d already written the dates and times for the bleacher sabotage and the pool incident. She wrote Trejo above but added question marks. She needed solid proof. And she’d get it soon enough when she hauled Trejo in.
“Where are we on the place near Twin Falls that Koa mentioned?”
Rivera looked up from his desk. “Mike’s cyber team identified it early this morning based on the report you filed from the hospital. After they heard what happened, they pulled an all-nighter.” He returned his eyes to his computer screen. “Says here, Trejo rented it under an alias. Paid with a stolen card. The captain put two units on the house. If he shows his face, they’ll bring him in. We have him on identity theft.”
“We need to get him on murder.” Lisa had started a war. Trejo had escalated a hundredfold. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than burying him under the jail.
“I got word she’d offered to do a boost for him. Found him at his place near Twin Falls. Can you believe that girl?” He laughed, and then the smile fled, and his voice tightened. “She went lookin’ for the devil and found him. Soon as I found out, I warned her off, ya? Put my foot down. No way I was gonna let Trejo get his hand around her throat the way he had it around Angelica’s.”
Fear. Mia’s autopsy had told them Angelica had been living in fear. “What do you mean when you say Trejo had his hand around Angelica’s throat?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. That’s why she ran the barricade—got herself killed. Can’t say why Angelica joined up with Trejo, but once she became his favorite, she had no way out.” Koa took his eyes away from Lisa’s. “I don’t know what he did to that girl. Don’t want to know. But he told her if she tried to leave him, so much as got herself arrested, he’d kill her mom, ya? That’s how Trejo rolls.”
Peter caught Lisa’s eye—a request for permission. She gave him a nod, and he shifted his gaze to Koa. “You placed your throat in Trejo’s grip in place of Kelly’s, is that it? You offered yourself up to keep Kelly from becoming Angelica?”
Koa snorted. “Not exactly, Doc. When I warned Kelly off, Trejo saw it as a weakness. From then on, he owned me. Kelly was his free-roaming hostage, like Angelica’s mom. He said if I didn’t play, he’d hurt her, frame her, kill her—I wouldn’t know which till it was too late.”
“So, what changed?” Lisa asked.
“She did, Cuz. When I put my foot down, Kelly told me she was plannin’ to ditch the job anyway. She didn’t like Trejo’s big-money game. Said it was wrong. She was gonna rat him out.” He raised an eyebrow at the skeptical look Lisa gave him. “What? Don’t believe me ’cause she didn’t say nothin’ when you went to see her? Like I said before. You a big scary cop now. Kelly couldn’t build up her nerve, and that was fine with me. I told her to keep her mouth shut.”
Kelly couldn’t build up her nerve. Lisa kept her expression still and stern, but inside she crumpled. A girl she had carried in her arms had been afraid to come to her. Lisa had found grace, and should have been reflecting that grace, but she’d become a frightening figure to Kelly. Had the hard façade she put up as a detective cost her the chance to save Kelly’s life?
“Lisa.” Peter leaned over the console, squinting out at the waves off the bow. “Where’d your brother put those night vision scopes? Something’s out there.”
The rookie itch. “Not now, Peter.”
Koa had mentioned Trejo’s big-money operations. Meth, maybe? Was that where Kelly had drawn the line? Lisa could relate. And if word had gotten back to Trejo that Kelly planned to give him up, Lisa would have solid motive to write on her murder board. “Let’s get back to the collapsing stands.”
“Don’t know. But I’d say it was a warning, Cuz. The boosted cars were a bonus. Trejo works all the angles all the time. It shook Kelly up, the way he went after her fans, but she still planned on talkin’.”
“Lisa, I’m not imagining this.” Peter had found a scope. He held it fixed on a point on the black surface a good distance from the boat. “I think I’m looking at a . . . No. It can’t be.”
“I said, not now.” Lisa was so close to having everything she needed to wrap this up—except for having Trejo in custody, and with a murder charge backing the manhunt, she could remedy that soon enough. “Koa, can you confirm Trejo knew Kelly planned to talk? Did you hear her tell him or one of his people she wanted to come forward about his meth operation?”
“Meth? Who said anything about meth? Oh, Cuz. This is so much bigger than drugs and boosted cars. Trejo’s got—”
“Look out!”
Peter rushed at her, arms wide for a tackle. The impact of his body lifted her airborne, and the two went flying together over the stern. The boat exploded behind them.
CHAPTER
FORTY
THE HEAT AND ROAR of the blast gave way to cool water and rushing silence. Pain flooded Peter’s skull, but he held his awareness enough to remember he needed to let go of Lisa. She pushed away from him and disappeared in the blur.
Fire burned above the swirling blue, like lanterns behind stained glass. He knew the right answer for the situation from his long-ago naval training—like knowing a procedure from a surgical textbook. But putting knowledge into action was something else entirely. Get clear. Surface. Breathe. Kick. Now.
His legs didn’t move.
The pain.
A hand gripped his shoulder. Lisa? Peter managed to catch his rescuer’s forearm and felt a soft layer of neoprene. A wet suit.
The person spun him around and he came face-to-face with a shifting ghost. He took the misshapen head to be that of a diver in a scuba mask. Though, with the regulator and hoses, it also gave him the impression of some evil half-squid creature. The monster kept its hold on his shoulder and thrust its other arm at his sternum. Peter heard a muted click, felt the jarring impact of steel on steel—a knife tip breaking against the plate in his bullet-proof vest.
Air.
Breathe.
Kick.
Can’t breathe. Can’t kick.
The creature had tried to stab him in the chest. It wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Next time, it would go for his neck. It did, but Peter’s hand was waiting and caught its wrist. He wrenched it over. Had the knife fallen free? He couldn’t tell. Looking up, he saw the blue stained glass of the surface and the lanterns behind it seemed farther away than before.
Peter clawed at the sea monster’s mask, regulator, anything. But it dodged him, and so he devoted both hands to its wrist and the knife that might or might not be there. A knife that either was or wasn’t because he couldn’t observe it.
Schrödinger’s knife. Peter felt like laughing.
Air.
Breathe.
Kick.
Can’t breathe. Can’t kick.
His head and lungs screamed.
Peter knew of one knife he could observe, at least by feel. A practical blade would outmatch the creature’s theoretical blade. He risked letting go of the wrist with one hand and drew the knife Pika had given him from its sheath.
The creature saw. Stupid mask. Unfair advantage. The creature grabbed Peter’s wrist, and the two slowly spiraled.
The lanterns above were so far away. They rushed apart as the stained glass shattered, broken by another dark creature diving straight for Peter. He couldn’t fend off another one. He only had two arms and the one nontheoretical knife.
Air.
Breathe.
Kick.
Peter couldn’t kick. There was no air.
This was the end.
His mouth opened on its own. The sea poured in.
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
MAUI MEMORIAL MEDICAL CENTER
LISA HATED HOSPITAL GOWNS. Feeling the rough, overused linen against her skin took her back to her worst days, back to big mistakes and bruised cheeks. A hospital gown meant too much exposure. It meant uncomfortable questions from a nurse and an inevitable visit from the cops, none of whom seemed to care if she lived or died—none except Clay.
The weight of the knock at her door told her it was Pika.
“Give me a sec.” She hadn’t worn the gown a second longer than necessary. She finished buttoning the jeans he’d delivered earlier and opened the door. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself, Sis. You okay?”
“I’m fine. The tests were just a precaution.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah. I know.” Lisa backed up and sat on the bed, lowering her gaze. “Peter tried to warn me. I should have listened. If I’d had two more seconds, I could have . . .”
“You could have what, Sis?”
“I could have saved him.”
Pika sat beside her, his weight depressing the mattress so much she fell against him. Lisa didn’t mind. She let him put his arm around her. He squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t know that. For all you know, walking to the front of the boat to get a look mighta put you in a worse spot—given you less time. And don’t give up. The docs are still working.”
“Tuna said the chances were slim.”
“Yeah.” Pika gave her a smile that didn’t fool her, and sure didn’t seem to fool him. “A slim chance is better than no chance every day o’ the week.”
A white coat appeared in the door’s narrow window, and an empty gray feeling hit Lisa’s chest before the lever even moved.
The look on the surgeon’s face left no doubt. Tuna, entering behind him, looked equally defeated. “I’m sorry,” the surgeon said. “We did all we could. He’s gone.”
Lisa buried her head in her brother’s shoulder, where she could feel the shuddering in his chest. She didn’t sob. Her tears were quiet, held inside like Pika’s. They’d known Koa most of their lives. For years, he’d been the boy father who stepped into their dad’s shoes and the shoes of five other dads—a void he wasn’t capable of filling and was never meant to. She straightened, wiping her eyes. “I could have done more. I should have.”
Pika gave her a frown. “We just talked about this, ya?”
“Not tonight. I mean before. I didn’t speak to him for years, didn’t ask about him. And when I finally did hunt him down, it was for an interrogation. The same with Kelly. We were ʻohana because we had no one else. But when I found a new family in Christ, I didn’t do anything to invite them along.”
Tuna thanked the surgeon and released him, then walked closer to the bed where she sat with Pika. “I treated Koa’s boo-boos the same as I treated yours. But his wounds grew progressively more serious each time until the day I retired. Cuts from a broken window became stab wounds. The same wrist that broke in a fall, broke years later when he beat some poor boy down. I’m not blaming him, but Koa was rushing toward this moment no matter how hard I or anyone else tried to turn his path.”
“I could have tried.”
“We both could,” Pika said.
The doctor didn’t argue. “I know this is a difficult time and a crushing loss. But I do have some good news. Our friend Peter is awake and alert and self-diagnosing up a storm. I hear he’s already ordered a couple of tests.” Tuna centered his gaze on Lisa. “You’d better go and get control before he takes full command of the residents.”
“BUT I DON’T LIKE JELL-O, green or otherwise.”
The nurse raised a flat hand as she departed, leaving the jiggling green mass on Peter’s tray where she’d set it moments before. Apparently being a surgeon-slash-patient was an invitation for a terrible bedside manner.
Peter realized that some of the fault might lie with him. The pain of breathing had made him disagreeable. But still. Jell-O?
As soon as the door clicked closed, it opened again.
Peter held out the Jell-O cup. “Oh good, you’ve reconsidered. Now if you wouldn’t mind—”
Not a nurse. He set the cup down. “Hello, Detective.”
She’d come alone. No bandages that he could see. Tuna had given him a glowing report, but he’d needed to see for himself. Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to see her. What did that mean?
Lisa gave him a smile. “Detective? Are we back to formalities, or have you lost a full day of memory?”
“Sorry. Lisa.” He slid the Jell-O toward her. “Want some?”
“No thank you.”
“It’ll only go to waste.”
“I’m okay with that.” She set his new mobile down next to the Jell-O. “I brought you this.”
“Thanks. Mobile giving is becoming a sort of tradition with us, eh?” He tried to laugh and winced. “Ouch. I’ll be hurting for a while, I suppose.”
“You should know. You’re the doctor. Peter, what do you remember?”
He remembered a great deal, but he knew some of it was a terrible fiction from the nightmares that came after the water flooded his lungs—black memories of writhing monsters. At least, he hoped it was fiction. “I remember the explosion. Stinging thumps against my back. The fire. A diver dragged me down. I remember a knife.” Peter crinkled his brow. “Perhaps two knives. That part’s a bit fuzzy. I sank a long way. And then I saw a second man—a big one—and I knew I was done for.”
Done for. Lights out.
The end?
All Peter’s medical knowledge, even his Royal Navy training, couldn’t have saved him. In that moment, all control over his fate had been stripped away, the way his control over Kelly’s fate had been stripped away.
Lisa picked up the Jell-O and dropped it in the hazardous waste bin beside his bed, plastic spoon and all. “The big guy you saw was Pika. He tore your attacker’s mask off and pulled you up—said you were so deep that the two of you might have broken all of Kelly’s freediving records.”
“And the attacker?”
“Pika didn’t waste time going after him. He knew you were in trouble. You weren’t breathing when he got you to the surface, even after we got the water out.”
Not breathing. Tuna hadn’t mentioned that part. Peter narrowed his eyes. “Which one of you did mouth to mouth?”
She walked to the end of the bed. He had to wonder if she’d used the maneuver to hide a smile.
“What about you?” he asked. “Where did you go after we fell in?”
“You mean after you tackled me off the boat?”
Peter started to protest, but Lisa held up a hand. “Thank you, by the way. You saved my life. And then Pika saved it again by taking a shot at the man who tried to drag me down.”
“There were two divers.”
She nodded. “Pika was the X-factor. If he’d have been on the runabout with us, either the explosion or the divers would have killed us all. But he was still on the trawler, going through Koa’s stuff for evidence.”
Lisa rubbed the back of her neck, exposing a bruise. So, she hadn’t come out of it unscathed. “After we went in, I pushed away and surfaced clear of the fire, close to the trawler. A diver caught my ankle and tried to drag me down, but Pika was right there with the Mossberg. One shot, and the guy let go.”
“Did your brother kill him?”
“Don’t know. In the dark, with the fire, shooting through the surface. He couldn’t see if he’d hit the guy, and we couldn’t tell if there was blood in the water. All I know is that no body surfaced. Then Pika grabbed a mask he’d seen while going through the pilothouse cabinets and dove in to find you. He says he saw you almost instantly. And not long after we pulled you out, the Coast Guard arrived. Both of those factors beat some dim odds, Peter.” She paused for a few heartbeats, then shrugged one shoulder. “You should think about that.”
He knew what she meant. But he didn’t want to think about it—not right now, in the bright light of a hospital room with clean sheets and green Jell-O to reject if he chose. “Pika showed great presence of mind to remember the mask and great calm to use it with such effectiveness. The shotgun is one thing, but to realize in that moment that a scuba mask meant the difference between life and death? He’s an exceptional officer.”
“I know.”
“Have you told him?”
Peter gathered from the way her hands slid into the pockets of her jeans that she hadn’t. He didn’t press. They were both avoiding the important lessons. What a pair they made. “And Koa?”
She shook her head.
“I’m sorry. Not to be crass about it, but I’m sure you know you’ve lost more than an old acquaintance. He was your big witness against Trejo. We’re back to square one, as it were.”
Her eyes came up to meet his, no longer the eyes of Pika’s sister or Koa’s old friend. Peter saw only the detective.
“We lost a witness,” she said. “But we haven’t lost the case. I now have two murders, the assault and attempted murder of a civilian, the assault and attempted murder of two police officers, and enough circumstantial evidence to pin it all on one known 18th Street felon.” Lisa returned to his side and rested a hand on his bedrail. “You’re about to see what a former LA cop can do when she lights a fire under a sleepy island PD with one of the highest officer/citizen ratios in the nation.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
MAUI PD CRIMINAL INVESTIGATIVE DIVISION
LISA’S MURDER BOARD FILLED UP FAST once she returned to the CID the next morning. Her timeline had few numbers, but it had plenty of events.
According to Koa, after Trejo muscled him out of his territory, Kelly had gone to the gang lord to ask for an auto theft job. Koa had stepped in to protect her, unwittingly making Kelly a greater target and a free-roaming hostage, as he had put it. But Kelly had seen something she didn’t like in Trejo’s operation. Lisa made a tick through her line and labeled it with the words Kelly visits Trejo, big money, and a question mark. She heard Koa’s voice in her head.
Meth? Who said anything about meth? . . . This is so much bigger than drugs and boosted cars.
Whatever Kelly had seen, she’d threatened to reveal, earning herself a couple of warnings and a death sentence. Lisa darkened the marks where she’d already written the dates and times for the bleacher sabotage and the pool incident. She wrote Trejo above but added question marks. She needed solid proof. And she’d get it soon enough when she hauled Trejo in.
“Where are we on the place near Twin Falls that Koa mentioned?”
Rivera looked up from his desk. “Mike’s cyber team identified it early this morning based on the report you filed from the hospital. After they heard what happened, they pulled an all-nighter.” He returned his eyes to his computer screen. “Says here, Trejo rented it under an alias. Paid with a stolen card. The captain put two units on the house. If he shows his face, they’ll bring him in. We have him on identity theft.”
“We need to get him on murder.” Lisa had started a war. Trejo had escalated a hundredfold. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than burying him under the jail.
