Dark Lava: Lei Crime Book 7 (Lei Crime Series) (2 page)

“
As why it so bad this wen’ happen,” Okapa said. “’Cause this
heiau
only had two. And these were good ones. We were so proud of them.”

Stevens blew more air on the rock, and white powder drifted down onto the red dirt soil beneath like misplaced snow.

“I think I see something. A partial,” Stevens pointed out to Mahoe. “It’s over on the side. Maybe there were two people digging out the carving, or one of them rested his hand on the side of the rock for leverage.”

Already they could see there was nothing on the face of the rock. Stevens handed the brush and powder to Mahoe a
nd let the young man dust the sides and top of the stone and the ones on either side of it.

Several prints picked up, all around the edges of the defaced rock. Stevens squinted at the prints, held his hand up. “
I think whoever was using the drill or tool grabbed on to the rock for support. These prints look smeared because of the pressure, but I’ll try the gel tape and see if we can lift some and get a good impression.”

He unrolled gel tape and pressed it lightly over the print, pulling away carefully. He d
id several and then set the tape in a plastic case to photograph with a scanner back at the station.

“
Let’s see you do one.” He handed the roll of tape to Mahoe. “I’m going to take photos of the tool marks.” They worked quietly side by side as Stevens set the ruler against the rock face and shot photos of the tool marks, then mixed up a batch of rubber dental putty, spreading it into the scars on the rock. It hardened in moments, and Stevens peeled it up, sliding it into an evidence bag as Mahoe finished taking his impressions.

“
Eh, Lieutenant!”

Stevens looked up at Okapa
’s shout, toward the gesturing man. Okapa was pointing at a hole in the ground on the other side of a lantana bush.

“
They took a stone from here. Was one oval stone brought up from the ocean.”

Stevens joined him.
“How do you know what stone it was?”

Okapa just fixed him with a belligerent stare. “
I know every rock in this place.”

Stevens took out his smartphone and shot a picture of the hole. “
How big was it?”

“
Big enough to need two people to carry it.”

Stevens made a note on his spiral pad. His eyes roamed the area, and he spotted a gleam of something in the grass. He squatted, found a beer can. Using the tips of his gloved hands, he picked it up by the rim and put it in an evidence bag.
“Mahoe, get the camera and shoot the area. Follow a grid pattern—remember your training.” Mahoe hurried to follow directions.

“
You think they wen’ drink the beer here?” Okapa said, his bushy brows drawing together. “Drinking beer while they stealing our sacred carvings! I like kill ’em! Pro’lly was one stupid
haole
with no respect. No Hawaiian would do this!”

Stevens looked up at Okapa. He could feel the other man
’s rage, and he stood deliberately, uncoiling to his own full height, without breaking eye contact. “You want to be careful about what you say, Mr. Okapa. It’s just a beer can. We don’t know anything about it.”

Okapa whirled and stomped off through the underbrush toward the road.

Mahoe rejoined Stevens. “I took off everything I could find.” The young man had packed up the crime kit too. Stevens glanced at the carefully stowed evidence collected. “Good job. What can you tell me about our volatile friend here?”

A flush stained Mahoe
’s neck. “He one
kupuna
—an elder. He…”

Stevens could see the struggle
the young man had in disclosing anything negative about a respected man in his culture. He remembered something from Pono’s cultural tips and looked away from Mahoe, turning to align his body with the officer’s, standing side by side. He addressed his remarks out over the
heiau
. “I’m worried about Mr. Okapa. I don’t think some half-cocked vigilante justice is going to help the situation. I don’t like the idea of Okapa having a gun.”

“
I know.” Mahoe blew out a breath, and Stevens could sense his relief that a superior officer wasn’t suspecting the respected
kupuna
. “I’m worried about him, too. He has a reputation for anger—that’s why his wife left—but this
heiau
is his life. I think he’ll cool down. I’ll talk to him.”

“
Good.” Stevens moved out toward the narrow, overgrown path. “As terrible as this is, the last thing we need is some kind of violent racially-motivated outburst when we haven’t even identified a suspect.” He paused. “Speaking of—what is this scene telling you? I want to hear what you’ve been able to assess from it.”

Mahoe swiveled, hands on hips, imitating Stevens
’s stance. “I think there were at least two in the crew. They had proper tools, came prepared. They knew exactly what they wanted, from what I can tell, and they worked fast, according to Mr. Okapa, which means they probably came ahead of time during the day to case where the artifacts were.”

“
Very good.” Stevens clapped the young man on the shoulder and set off down the narrow, overgrown path with Mahoe following. “Further, I think they were professionals in removal technique. I could see very little waste or fracture on the rock faces, and believe it or not, those hand jacks are hard to operate. So my sense is that these are pros procuring something for a buyer, which means they’re probably connected with the Oahu desecrations.”

“
We have to stop this,” Mahoe muttered. “Whatever it takes.”

They emerged beside the cruiser and the Bronco. Okapa had already crossed the now-busy highway, and Stevens could see him glowering at them from a chair
on the front porch of his weathered, tin-roofed cottage.

“
Why don’t you go take his official statement?” Stevens said. “Give him a chance to tell the tale and cool down.”

“
Yes, sir.” Mahoe looked both ways and trotted across the road, already taking out his notebook.

Stevens beeped open the Bronco and stowed the crime kit and evidence bags in the back. Getting into the SUV, he looked over at the tableau across the street. Mahoe was seated beside Okapa, one hand on the older man
’s shoulder, head down, listening, as the older man gesticulated.

Turning the key, Stevens hoped this was the last he was going to see of Okapa.

Haiku Station was
a small, former dry-goods store across a potholed parking lot from a large Quonset-style former pineapple-packing plant that had been converted into a shopping center. Stevens had a small crew under his command—one other detective, four patrol officers, and Mahoe, a new recruit.

Stevens felt good about how Mahoe was coming along. The benefits of nurturing talent had been drummed into him by his first commanding officer in Los Angeles, along with the fact that all the training in the world couldn
’t make up for a recruit without the “gut instinct” for police work.

Stevens lifted a hand briefly to the watch officer on duty as he passed through the open room where his team
’s desks were situated, heading for the back room where his office was located. He hadn’t seen his wife since yesterday—Lei was at a daylong training in a wilderness area, learning ordnance retrieval, and he missed her.

He supposed that was the word to apply to a feeling like a limb had been amputated, like something vital was gone. He wonder
ed how he was going to deal with it when she left for California in a few weeks for a two-week multi-agency intensive training on explosive devices.

He logged into his e-mail and frowned at one from his ex-wife, Anchara. He hadn
’t seen her since the day she left him. They kept in touch via e-mail, but she didn’t communicate often.

Dear Michael, I have something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago. Can we meet in the next week or so? It
’s better done in person. In friendship, Anchara.

She always ended her e-mails that way
—“in friendship.” Anchara had always been unknowable to him, walled off, even when he’d tried his best to break down her emotional and physical barriers. When they’d started out, he’d been determined to really make it work, determined to get over Lei once and for all, and they’d been attracted to each other. In bed she had a feral quality, wide brown eyes opaque, her body flexible and tireless. Still, no matter what he tried, his best efforts failed to bring her satisfaction.

Not that she
’d ever let on. Still, he knew, and it ate at him. He’d felt the weight of his mistake in marrying her like an anvil on his chest every time they had sex. They’d talked about it once, afterward.

“
Why can’t you come?” he’d finally asked, playing with one of the black satin ribbons of her hair, the sweat of their effort drying in the light Maui breeze.

“
I did.” She widened those huge eyes, batted them at him. “I’m sure the neighbors agree.”

“
You pretended to.”

That shadow that wa
s always there, separating them, appeared again. It contained both her past as a sex slave on a cruise ship and Lei, who’d always hold his heart.

“
I want to,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if I can. With anyone.”

Stevens had been trying hard to keep his
mind off Lei and give the marriage a real shot, but Anchara had moved ahead with the divorce without his knowledge the minute her green card for United States residency was imminent.

Stevens decided not to respond to her e-mail today. Whatever it was cou
ld wait. He had no great eagerness to see her again—Lei was the woman he missed.

He phoned Lei even as he twirled the dial on the evidence locker in the corner of his office.

“Hey.” Her slightly husky voice conjured her instantly before him—tilted brown eyes sleepy, curls disordered, that slender body he was always hungry for, warm in their bed. “You woke me up—I just got home and we were up most of the night.”

“
Wish I was there waking you up some other way.” He stacked the bag with the beer can and the labeled plastic boxes holding the gel tape on the shelf and picked up the clipboard dangling from a string to log in the items.

“
Me too.” He heard Lei yawn, pictured her olive-skinned, toned arms stretching, her small round breasts distending the thin sleep tee as her body arched. He felt himself respond to the rustle of her tiny movements in a way that wasn’t appropriate for work, and he gritted his teeth. “So when are you going to be home?” she asked.

“
Usual time. Got called out early—a
heiau
desecration.” He sketched a few details—as a fellow officer, she often helped with his cases, and he hers.

“
That sucks so bad.” Lei yawned again. “I’m too fuzzy to make sense. I’m going to turn the phone off and try to get some sleep.”

“
I’ll see you later. I love you,” he said. He’d said it to her every day since their wedding a month ago.

“
I love you, too. Come home soon. I’ll keep the bed warm.” She clicked off.

Lei Texeira. Smart, intuitive, neurotic as hell. Scary brave
—and as necessary to him as breathing.

Stevens
set the phone down, trying not to think of her under the silky sheets in that skimpy tank top, or that he was doing his best to get her pregnant. Trying not to think about the spooky threat that had come against them on their honeymoon, always somewhere on his mind. Well, she’d have the alarm on, and their Rottweiler, Keiki, on the bed with her…

A knock at the doorjamb. He looked up, irritated. “
Yes?”

Mahoe came in and shut the door. “
I gotta tell you something, sir.”

Lei turned the phone off and set it on the bedside table. Keiki, monitoring the whole exchange, set her big square head back on her paws, brown eyes on her mistress.

“
It’s okay, girl.” Lei patted the bed beside her. “I know you don’t like it when we aren’t both here.”

Keiki crawled up beside her, and Lei scratched behind the dog
’s silky triangle ears, her fingertips playing with the brown eyebrow patches above the Rottweiler’s expressive eyes.

She shut her eyes as she tried to fall back asleep, but memories played, of the improvised explosive device detection exercises she and her partner, Abe Torufu, had participated in at the back of a remote valley.

They’d been going full bore for twenty-four hours, tracking mock explosive devices hidden in various sections of the wilderness area, learning to spot mines, pipe bombs, even the crude gas-fueled Molotov-cocktail-style explosive threats they were likely to encounter on the job. The one-day intensive had been put together with Homeland Security, the fire department, army reservists, and police officers as part of a joint task force training with personnel from all over the islands. The trainers had turned them loose in teams with their detection and disarming equipment, and the team who found and disabled the most devices won.