Shattered Palms (Lei Crime Series) (22 page)

“
You’re talking about Jacobsen. So did Rinker have anything to do with any of this?”

“
He helped me move the body and bury it. I…” Kingston coughed, and blood bubbled from the side of his mouth. His eyes opened, and Lei saw the terror in them as he struggled to breathe. Lei stroked sweaty hair off his brow and chafed one of his hands.

“
Relax. You have to relax. You’re making things right by telling me what happened. I understand why you did it. It was all for the birds, wasn’t it?”

He nodded, the faintest movement of his head, and his eyes closed
. He seemed a little calmer.

“
What about the poachers?” Lei whispered in Kingston’s ear.

“
I don’t…” Kingston’s body suddenly relaxed, loosening like a puppet with cut strings, and she saw he’d lost consciousness.

The thrum of a
helicopter approaching brought Lei to her feet. She took off the parka shell she wore and waved it back and forth until she was sure they’d seen her. There was nowhere to land, but a yellow metal-framed body basket was tucked close under the helicopter’s runners. It trundled down out of the sky with a med-tech sitting in it.

They worked quickly to get an IV going and load Kingston, and only minutes later
, Lei watched the helicopter whisk away into the deep blue Maui sky, with its innocent white clouds. She rinsed the young man’s blood off her hands in the crystal-clear, cold stream and climbed back up the cliff to deal with what remained.

Pono leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he pushed a Styrofoam cup of the station’s thick coffee to Lei. She munched down a granola bar to quiet her churning stomach. “I’m waiting for the full story after this afternoon’s drama. How do you get all the action? My search was totally boring.”

“
Fill us in, Texeira.” Captain Omura had left a big meeting with the Maui County Council to come back and debrief with Lei on the evidence retrieval in Waikamoi gone wrong. Her displeasure was evident as she tapped a well-shod toe on the leg of the table.

Lei picked up the coffee, took a sip, winced.
“I should never have let Takama bring his bow. I know that now. But as a ranger, he’s got certain privileges, and he seemed trustworthy.”

“
That oversight is going in your file,” Omura said, olive eyes narrowed, crimson mouth a line.

Lei sighed, a deep release of breath, her shoulders rising and falling. She was bone-weary from her exertions on the mountain, covered with ground-in mud, spat
tered pig, and human blood. The emotional drain of the day was taking its toll, and she glanced at the clock. Two hours until her wedding. “I expect no less.”

“
We may also be facing a lawsuit from Kingston’s family. They are on their way to his bedside from Canada.”

“
Well, when I called you to give an overview of the situation, I didn’t include this.” Lei took her phone out of her pocket and thumbed on the voice recording. She played the recording of Kingston confessing. “I’m hoping you can get him to sign a printout of this conversation before Shimoda gets wind of it, Pono.”

“
Good stuff, Lei, but too late. Shimoda has already sent us over a cease-and-desist from talking to his client without him,” Pono said. “He was beside himself when he heard you’d used Kingston to show you to the location of the lab and the bow’s burial site, so it’s good you got Kingston to sign that waiver. Speaking of Kingston, how did he get out of the cuffs? I thought he was chained to Cantorna.”

“
He was. But in the lab, while we were occupied and searching, he picked up a pair of wire cutters. He concealed them until we were distracted with the boar, then used them to cut the chain. He was still cuffed when he escaped.”

A long silence followed this. Lei remembered clambering to the top of the cliff and Cantorna, his youn
g face downcast, holding up wire cutters he’d found on the ground behind their scuffle. Cantorna and Takama had also found the concealed bow, buried shallowly under the bush where the boar had been napping.

Lei was hopeful the bow
would link somehow to the poachers. They were still short on physical evidence tying anyone to any of the murders.

“
So how’s Kingston doing?” Lei asked.

“
Hanging on,” Pono said.

“
If he dies, Takama will be charged with homicide. I worry the DA may want to bring charges against Texeira, too,” Omura said. “As it is, we’ve got Takama booked on attempted murder.”

“
It should be assault with a deadly weapon,” Lei said. “And if he dies, manslaughter. Takama was grieving for his dead protégée, Jacobsen.”

“
Well, it’s not up to you, is it?” Omura snapped. “I’m in talks with the DA, believe me. In the meantime, you might have that religious father of yours pray that Kingston survives.”

“
Speaking of Kingston’s confession, can we bring in Rinker to corroborate what Kingston admitted? Even if we have to exclude the confession, if we can get Rinker to talk, we won’t need it,” Lei said. “Maybe Rinker knows something about the poachers, too.”

“
I was already working on that,” Pono said, looking up from his phone. “An officer is bringing him in.”

“
And on that note, Lei, you’re on administrative leave pending an investigation into the shooting of a prisoner in your custody,” Captain Omura said. “Your gun and badge, please.”

Lei fe
lt her stomach plummet. It seemed like she was always doing something wrong, always under investigation, even when she solved her cases. She took her weapon out of the shoulder holster and unclipped her badge, slid them, crunching grittily, across the table to the captain. Both were still speckled with forest mud.

“
Now go get ready for your wedding. We’ll be in touch,” Omura said, picking up the items and standing.

“
Can I just watch your interview with Rinker?” Lei begged.

The captain shook her head.
Lei stood, gave Pono a little half wave, and walked out ahead of the others. Her feet dragged, and she’d never felt so tired and discouraged. She’d solved the case—but as often happened, it hadn’t been by the book.

Her phone dinged with a text
as she got into her truck. She slid it out of her pocket to check. It was Pono.
I’ll forward you the recording of the interview on e-mail if you still want to see it after the wedding.

Thanks
, partner,
Lei texted back. Pono knew how much she hated missing the denouement of the case.

Lei
got on the road, her heart a little lighter. If only Kingston’s research was worth all the blood that had been shed for it—and if it was, would it be tainted by its author’s record? Would it ever be published?

She
had no answers for any of those questions.

Lei drove up to the vacation rental mansion
at three p.m. Marcella met her at the dented truck, dramatic brows knit in worry and anger. “I can’t believe you! Seriously, you need your priorities adjusted!”

Lei, hot
, exhausted, and irritable, snapped at her friend.

“What I shouldn’t have done is have a big wedding. Me and Stevens at the courthouse would have made a lot more sense.”
She whisked the dress, pristine in its plastic drapery from a day ago, off the seat and handed it to Marcella. “I need a shower, just to start.”

Lei made her way through the accusatory gauntlet of her aunt and father toward the bathroom. “I’m here on time to get ready, and I got the
killer!” she exclaimed. “Can we just have a wedding already? Please!” Her voice filled with tears as she slammed the giant teak bathroom door.

In the large
glass-block shower enclosure, under a foot-wide metal showerhead raining soft water over her, she began to relax a little—but she still hadn’t heard from Stevens, and she wondered where he was. Probably at his apartment getting dressed with his brother. She pictured submitting to all the upcoming hair pulling, makeup patting, dressing, and walking down an aisle of flowers at the lush park—only to end up alone at the altar.

Lei
felt queasy thinking about it. She was drying off, looking at her pale face and wet head in the mirror hopelessly, when someone knocked at the door. “Who is it?”

“Marcella.”

Lei let her friend in. “Come to lecture me some more?”

“No
. I’m just worried about you. Your aunty fixed you a sandwich—said she doubted you had eaten today.” Marcella, already wearing the formfitting red sheath she’d chosen as her maid-of-honor dress, set a glass plate with a purple poi roll loaded with kalua pork on the granite counter.

Lei pressed her hand against her stomach. “I don’t think I can eat that. That dress is tight, and I’m so nervous I feel sick.”

Marcella put hands on her hips and gave Lei her best FBI stare. “Are you pregnant?”

“Maybe.” Lei sat on the toilet and put her head in her hands. “I might be. I got a test, and I’ve been too scared to look at it. I decided to look at it with Stevens on the honeymoon.”

“Oh my God. Typical Lei—stick your head in the sand and hope for the best.” Marcella’s warm voice took the sting out of the words. “Here, I’ll eat the pork. You just have the roll.” She separated the sandwich and handed Lei the roll, scooping the pork into her mouth with her perfectly manicured fingertips. “
Mmm
. This is so good. Your aunty is a really good cook.”

“I know.” Lei ate the roll, swallowing the dry bread with difficulty. When she stood up, tightening the towel around her body, she felt a little better. “The worst is, I told Stevens I wanted some space a few days ago. I was feeling anxious
; you know how I get. And then I postponed the wedding. Do you think he’s going to show up?”

“He’s going to show up, because there’s a whole FBI and police department who’ll kick his ass if he doesn’t
—just like they’d hunt you down if you tried to run off. But seriously, Lei, did you have to make the poor guy stress out like that? He’s wondering if
you’re
going to show up.”

“So I guess I just have to get the dress on, go, and hope for the best.”

“I can have Pono track him down if you want.”

“No. I was the one asking for space
and creating this drama. I deserve whatever happens next.”

“Lei.” Marcella shook her head, pulling Lei’s stiff body into her arms in a hug. “It’s not about deserving anything. This is about
love
. Don’t you trust that he loves you?”

Lei shut her eyes, leaned on her friend. “
Yes. I know he loves me. I guess I need to prove I love him too.”

“
He’ll show up. Now, stop procrastinating, and let’s get you into that gorgeous dress.”

Wayne Texeira wore a short-sleeved black aloha shirt in a subtle print and black pants, his version of a minister’s outfit. A slack-key and ukulele band played mellow music as they stepped out down an “aisle” of plumeria blossoms, heading toward an arbor of palm branches. They followed Tiare’s sturdy figure, clad in a red fitted muumuu, leading Keiki. The Rottweiler kept her head up and ears perked, enjoying being the center of attention, the ring pillow tied to her collar. Marcella was already at the end of the aisle in front of the palm frond arch, and she encouraged Lei with a smile.

Michael Stevens stood
directly in front of the palm frond arch.

A wave of relief made Lei’s knees go weak.

His piercing blue eyes were on her, alight with passion. She needn’t have worried he wouldn’t show up.

She knew how different she must look from her normal casual style. Her hair had been coiled onto the top of her head, a
haku
lei of maidenhair fern and pikake circling her forehead. Ringlets framed her face and trailed down the back of her neck. Lei’s shoulders were bare and her olive-tan skin glowed with gardenia-scented coconut oil. Her mouth was colored a deep rose, her tilted brown eyes set off by silvery plum shadow. Nothing hid the freckles sprinkled across her nose. Stevens had said he loved them.

The dress began with an ivory silk kimono-style collar, hinting at her Japanese heritage, attached to simple open netting that merged into a slender silk column. The graceful, modest shape hugged Lei’s torso all the way down to her hips, from which the skirt flowed in a double layer of tulle and silk
to the grass. “You’ll look like a lily in this design,” Estelle had said. And glimpses in the mirror at the house had showed Lei that she did.

Lei set her fingertips lightly over the tattoo of the Hawaiian Islands that twined around her father’s brown forearm. Her father’s strong, calm presence grounded her as they walked forward across the grass. Folding chairs in rows held seated guests who’d risen at the sight of her, their faces turned toward her in a sea of smiles.