Hot-Blooded (13 page)

Blake knew too much.

As soon as Bane settled in, Keahilani rushed out of the surf shop and headed for her car.

What the hell was Blake doing following her around, anyway? He didn’t strike her as the clingy type. He said he wasn’t a cop, though he could’ve lied. Maybe he was DEA.

Shit. She had to find out how this guy was involved and whom he worked for. He’d gotten frighteningly close to the truth, and she would
not
jeopardize her ‘ohana—or her livelihood—for a one-time lay, no matter how good.

Too much other shit to deal with at the moment. Slamming the car door behind her, she called Kai. “Have you spoken to Ret yet?”

“No, why?”

“Meet me at the police station. I need a favor from her.” She pulled into traffic and cruised down Honoapi‘ilani Highway.

Kai’s exasperated moan rattled the phone’s speaker. “She’s not gonna talk to me, Keahilani.”

“Then come along and be pretty eye candy while
I
talk to her.” When she hit a stoplight, Keahilani checked the glove compartment for product. A couple of dime bags. Perfect. “She still smokes, right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Just be there in fifteen.” She ended the call.

Kai was such a dumb-ass sometimes. He liked Ret, but for some reason, he couldn’t commit. To anything. Keahilani wasn’t privy to the details of their former relationship, but Kai and Ret had known each other since high school. They’d dated on and off for a while, but then Kai stuck his dick somewhere he shouldn’t have, and Ret quit talking to him.

What an asshole.

Like father, like son.

Spit thickened in her mouth as she shifted brain gears to Mahina’s journal. Damn. Talk about a throat punch.

Keahilani had always thought highly of her dad, even though he’d hardly ever been around when she was growing up. Her mother rarely had much to say about him. Keahilani should’ve known there was much more to her dad’s story than her mom had revealed.

Everyone made mistakes. Justin knocking up Mahina with her and Kai was one thing, but if he was such a jerk, why would Mahina continue seeing the douche bag and eventually have two other kids with him? Keahilani wasn’t sure she could stomach reading more about the fool’s gold idol she’d revered as an innocent child. Such a crushing betrayal. Justin had been dead for ages, but this new information stung. Badly.

She pushed the depressing thoughts out of her head. She needed to think clearly and figure out what to do about Blake. As she pulled into the police station, she considered his “surfing lessons” proposition. What did he believe he could do for her? He didn’t seem to have any evidence that would implicate her in Butch’s murder, aside from seeing her at the apartment building. Maybe he’d keep his mouth shut.

And if their sexy parts happened to end up naked again at the same time in the same place and bump repeatedly into each other for an hour or so, she’d probably be okay with that. Something about a rogue. Like chocolate. Even though he was bad for her, he was too damn tasty to resist.

Willpower. She needed some where that guy was concerned.

Shaking her head, she exited the car and went inside the station. Though she was nervous being here after what went down last night, it was like Manō pointed out: best to be in plain sight where no one would expect a murderer to be.

“I’m looking for Officer Ret Rogers,” she said to the woman behind the counter.

“Keahilani Alana. Long time, no see.”

She turned to the uniformed blond with short, spiked hair standing beside her. “How’s it going, Ret?” Her old friend thrust out a hand for a palm smack. Keahilani obliged with a smile and hugged her.

Ret shrugged. “Can’t complain.” Her
hahhd
Boston accent widened Keahilani’s grin. Ret had moved to Maui from New England when she was a freshman in high school. Though a lot of kids made fun of the way she talked, no one ever did it to her face. Ret’s mom was a cop. A big, scary Boston cop. But Keahilani had a ton of respect for her. Everyone did.

Ret’s mom took a job with NYPD after Ret left for college. She died in the line of duty shortly after, mowed down by a fucking mugger with a gun in Central Park.

A decade later, the sting of her death still hurt.

“I heard you graduated with your criminal justice degree. Congrats. Going for detective, huh?” Wouldn’t
that
be a great “get out of jail free” card to keep in her back pocket?

“I got a few more months before I start my formal training, but they’re tossing me some bones here and there. Who told you?”

“Kai.” Keahilani toed a stray dust bunny tumbling by as the door behind her opened.

Ret looked over Keahilani’s shoulder. The confidence in her expression faltered for a second, then righted itself. “Speak of the devil.”

Kai approached tentatively, arms opening as he closed on Ret. She welcomed him with a warm but brief hug. “Nice to see you, asshole.”

“You too.” He pulled away and looked her over like the horndog he was. “You’re as hot as ever.”

Keahilani kept her eye roll to herself. Ret blew him off with a wave, but a pleased smile snuck past her lips.

So far, so good.

Patting Kai and Keahilani on the back, Ret said, “I was just going for lunch. Wanna come with?”

“Sure. How about that Indian place we used to hit after school? Murray’s Curry?” Keahilani suggested. Granted, she and Kai had rarely eaten anything when they went out because they had no money back then, but all the cool kids hung out there, so they attempted to blend in. Nobody knew for sure why the hole in the wall became so popular with the high school students, but rumor had it that the employees sometimes sold beer to underage kids.

Ret’s face lit up. “Oh my God, I haven’t eaten there in years. I’ll meet you there.”

And the high school reunion was on.

Ten minutes later, the three of them occupied a back booth in the familiar joint. The owners hadn’t updated the décor since the last time Keahilani was there, which was strangely comforting. Like coming home after being away for a long time. She marveled at the opulent gold-leaf ceiling hammered in exotic shapes, the elephant figurines, the plush velvet chairs, and the warm reds, oranges, and yellows splashing every surface from the carpet to the walls and doors.

“So, what’s been going on with you guys?” Ret said as she perused the menu.

“Little bit of this. Little bit of that. Staying pretty busy with work,” Keahilani said.

Ret snorted. “How’s
that
going?” The implication was evident in her wink-wink, nudge-nudge expression. She had hooked Kai up with a botany expert she knew when the ‘ohana first started developing the Pāhoehoe hybrid.

Keahilani leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “We’re expanding. Wondered if you might be interested in a little exchange. Police ‘protection’ and convenient blindness in return for a free monthly subscription.” She slid the decorative bag full of pot under the table to Ret. “This shit is the best you’ll ever have. Guaranteed.”

Ret stuffed the package into the bottom of her purse, raised a brow, and glanced to Kai, who backed Keahilani up with a nod. “You know I’m happy to help you guys out when I can, but there are no absolutes. Ever. I can’t jeopardize my career, but I’m told I have amazing powers of distraction.” She pulled her shoulders back, and her ample bust rallied against the limited stretch of her polyester weave uniform.

Staring at her boobs, Kai shook the dreadlocks out of his face and flashed a wry grin. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Ret laughed and cracked her knuckles. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, did you guys hear about the shit that went down last night?”

Keahilani glanced around to see if anyone had moved within earshot. “You mean the drug dealer?”

Ret nodded. Kai’s smile slid off, and he shifted in his seat. “Do they know who did it?”

“No. All’s I know is the weapon was left at the scene, and they think it might have been some kind of vendetta for a sex crime.” She leaned closer and whispered, “The guy’s balls were blown off.”

Kai and Keahilani exchanged looks. Tension oozed from his pores. Ret cocked her head to the side and froze for a couple of seconds. A light bulb pinged to life behind her eyes, and she waggled a loose finger at Keahilani. “You know somethin’. Tell me. I won’t say shit to anyone, swear on my mother’s fuckin’ grave.” She crossed herself and folded her hands.

Keahilani shook her head. “Just keep us posted on the investigation, will you? It’s … important.”

Ret crossed her arms on the table in front of her. “Come on, guys. This is me. Your buddy. I couldn’t care less about that prick Butch getting dead. We been arresting him off and on for years on rape charges we couldn’t ever prove ’cause the fucker always wore a condom and sometimes drugged his victims to keep ’em from fighting back. My gut don’t lie. He’s guilty as shit, despite the lack of evidence. Heard too many stories. Seen too many tears. He got what was coming to him. Probably got off easy, as a matter of fact.”

Kai straightened his shorts under the table and cut the air with the plane of his hand. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

A blanket of silence swept over the booth, and Ret’s gaze darted to Keahilani. Her mouth formed the shape of an O, and then full recognition illuminated her face. She pressed a hand to her lips. “Oh my God,” she said behind her fingers. “Oh my God.”

Keahilani clutched Ret’s arm and eased it down. “Don’t say anything else. We can talk later. Somewhere private.”

Ret looked desperately to Kai, who stared at the ceiling. His jaw rippled, and his lips pressed together so hard, they turned pale.

“Fuck me, you guys.”

“Shut up, Ret,” Keahilani warned, her voice low and hard.

The waitress came over with a pad of paper. Ret pulled herself together enough to sputter out her order. As soon as the waitress was gone, she drilled Keahilani. “Okay, if you want me to make sure this blows over, I’m gonna need to know
everything
. Whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

Keahilani whispered, “You can’t tell anyone. Swear to me.” Her stomach roiled at the thought of putting a friend in the ground. She didn’t think she’d ever have to, but if it came down to Ret’s life or hers or her ‘ohana’s, there would be no contest. Blood came first. Always.

Ret clasped Keahilani’s palm and squeezed in a gesture of solidarity. “I swear to Christ. You’re safe with me.” She met Keahilani’s eyes, then shifted her gaze to Kai. Something way beyond familiarity passed between them, bouncing from one into the other and back again. Swelling and ebbing ripples.
Trust
.

If Ret trusted Kai and vice versa, then Keahilani did too. “I’ll let Kai fill you in later. I have business to deal with after lunch.”

Kai jerked his attention to her. She stepped on his foot under the table. He needed to spend more time with Ret, and not just to discuss what Keahilani had done.

The food arrived, and the three of them carried on about old times, the weather, tourists, and Ret’s future as a detective. Nothing else about business, which suited Keahilani just fine. As they wrapped up their meal, her phone chirped a nondescript ring tone. Manō. She stood. “I gotta take this. You two enjoy some dessert on me. We’ll catch up later.” She tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and made for the door.

“What’s up, brother?” she said on her way to the car.

“I got some information,” Manō replied.

“Hit me.”

“Contacts on the SIM card include family, friends, known drug dealers, buyers, and several Oahu numbers linked to Waialua Kope offices.”

“The coffee growers?” They were the biggest producers on Oahu. Maybe they grew more than coffee.

“Yeah.”

“Give me all the names.”

Manō rattled off a long list. When he got to Blake, she frowned, though she wasn’t surprised. She didn’t recognize any of the other people. “What about texts?”

He read through the recent ones. Most of those were vague, but the conversation before Butch’s final one with Blake caught Keahilani’s attention. Someone called “Scott” had texted:
Blake will be outside if you need him. Get names and contact info, then get out.

A chill slithered up Keahilani’s spine. She’d demanded that Butch come to the meeting alone, but the text confirmed he hadn’t. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but Blake’s involvement with someone who was clearly an enemy was still a sucker punch. “Okay. Let me know if you find out anything else.” She hit the end button and tossed the phone on to the seat beside her.

“Goddamn it.” She squeezed a handful of hair on the top of her head and slapped the steering wheel. She hadn’t planned to take Blake up on his offer at the hotel, but now she had no choice. He was involved in the same drug ring Butch was, and those bastards wanted what she had. Which meant Blake might soon win the title of Pele’s second murder.

Chapter Twelve

When Keahilani returned to her apartment twenty miles away from Lāhainā in the comparatively quiet town of Kihei, she went straight for her bedroom. It had been a stressful, trying day, and nothing would be more perfect now than a costume change into comfortable yoga pants and a T-shirt and curling up on the couch with a tub of ice cream.