
MARE'S NEST

A T. J. O'SULLIVAN NOVEL

LARRY DARTER

Copyright (C) 2018 Larry Darter

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Published in the United States of America by Fedora Press.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Paperback ISBN: 9781987646290

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# For Suzanne: My favourite Kiwi and love of my life.

Also by Larry Darter

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Come What May (The Malone Novels Book 1)

Fair Is Foul and Foul Is Fair (The Malone Novels Book 2)

Cold Comfort (The Malone Novels Book 3)

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Learn More: <http://www.larrydarter.com/books/>

# CONTENTS

Also by Larry Darter

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

About the Author

From the Author

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# Chapter 1

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HE WAS TWO INCHES, or three, taller than my six feet, and muscular. He advanced straight at me, shoulders squared, head forward. His gaze was fixed on me from beneath the visor of a chauffeur's cap. I stood beside the carousel in the baggage claim area of Honolulu International waiting for my suitcase to appear. I had the client's story, after a fashion. But as generally happens in such cases, the story would turn out to be different than the one told.

"Ms. O'Sullivan?" the man in the chauffeur's cap said.

"Yes, I'm T. J. O'Sullivan," I said. As I spoke to him, my suitcase came along, and I grabbed it from the rotating carousel.

"Come with me," the man said, "Mr. Shaw wishes to see you at once."

"Yeah, nah, mate," I said. "I want to check into my hotel first. I'm meant to meet Mr. Shaw at Duke's Waikiki at five."

"Things have changed," the man said. He pushed aside the front of the navy windbreaker he was wearing. I could see the butt of the large frame semi-automatic tucked into his waistband. "I must insist. Mr. Shaw isn't a patient man. He wants you at the house right away."

"All right," I said, "you can be quite persuasive."

The man reached out to take me by the upper arm. I took a step back and held my hand straight out in the universal stop sign position.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to stop right now," I said. "If the circumstances have changed, fair enough, I'll go with you. But, if you put your hands on me, I'm going to become something of a mad bitch. I reckon you aren't going to enjoy that."

"I don't need some mainland lady PI causing me grief," the man said.

"Then don't bugger me around, and you won't get any grief," I said. "Lead the way to your car and let's go see Shaw."

Without another word the man turned. He walked toward the glass doors leading out of the terminal. He hadn't offered to take my bag. I reckoned chivalry must be dead. I hoped he wasn't expecting a tip.

I picked up my suitcase and followed him outside. He led me across the roadway in front of the terminal into the carpark beyond. He stopped beside a long, black limo that wasn't new but well cared for. He opened the rear passenger door and motioned with his head for me to get in. Too late, you're still not getting a tip. I tossed my suitcase onto the back seat and climbed in behind it. The man closed the door and got in the front seat, behind the wheel.

It had been a dramatic start to the case. I hadn't expected to arrive at gunpoint to meet the client. I also didn't appreciate it. I intended to have a word with Shaw about that.

After exiting the airport, we drove northeast on a wide motorway until we merged onto another. We then headed straight north along the windward coast. The sign said Kamehameha Highway. I'd looked up Shaw's address on the web. I knew the house was north of Honolulu on the eastern side of Oahu in the Ka'a'awa Valley. Satisfied the man was actually taking me to Shaw's home, I relaxed. I soaked up the stunning views outside the car window.

It was nice being on an island again, even if it wasn't home. I reckoned you could take the girl off the island, but you could never quite take the island out of the girl.

Once outside the urban sprawl and out in the wop-wops I could see the turquoise water of the Pacific. Waves were breaking along the sandy beaches. I couldn't wait to enjoy Waikiki Beach when I finally got to my hotel. I was in Hawaii on business, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy myself a bit. I had only been to Hawaii once before when my parents had taken me to Maui on holiday when I was a little girl.

The driver hadn't said a word since we'd left the airport terminal. After we had been driving for almost an hour, he turned the limo off the highway. We entered a long paved driveway lined with palm trees. We arrived at a pair of closed gates. A man dressed in black military-like fatigue pants and a black polo shirt approached the car. He was wearing sunglasses. He had an earpiece like those worn by Secret Service agents. There was a black semi-automatic pistol in a low-slung tactical holster on his right thigh. The driver stopped the limo at the gates. He lowered my window from the front seat.

"Ms. O'Sullivan?" the guard said.

"Yes, I'm T. J. O'Sullivan," I said.

"Do you have identification?" the guard said.

"Yes," I said. I fished my California PI license out of my handbag and handed it to the guard.

"You don't sound like you're from Los Angeles," the guard said, as he studied my license.

"That's because I'm not from LA," I said. "I mean to say I live there now, but I'm from New Zealand."

The man nodded. "We were expecting an American," he said.

"You've got one," I said. "I'm a New Zealand citizen by birth. But, I'm a naturalized American citizen and hold passports from both countries."

"I see," the man said. Satisfied with my explanation, he handed back my license. "You can proceed," the guard said to the driver. He pressed a button on a remote he was holding and the black iron gates swung open.

The driver closed my window and drove through the gates. We rounded a long curve in the driveway. A rather palatial looking two-story house sitting on lush green lawns came into view. The house was of sturdy frame construction painted a light shade of tan with a metal painted roof. It had a wide covered wrap around porch. It was the kind of house you might expect to see on a cattle station in the Australian outback. Or on a plantation on some African savanna.

The driveway ended in a large paved carpark in front of the house. Another man dressed the same as the guard at the gate stepped off the porch. He strode toward the car. He stopped at my window. The driver once again lowered the glass.

"Ms. O'Sullivan?" he said.

"That's right," I said.

"Do you have identification?" he said.

My PI license was still in my hand. I held it out to him. We repeated the scene from a minute or two earlier at the gates. He also asked about my Kiwi accent. Once satisfied, the guard handed back my license.

"Are you armed, Ms. O'Sullivan?" the guard said.

"Not at the moment," I said. "I have a handgun in my baggage, but I don't have a weapon on my person."

"Very well," the guard said. "You can exit the vehicle, but leave your baggage inside. It will be safe until you return." He opened the door. I got out.

"Follow me please," he said.

I followed him up the steps onto the porch. We stopped at the front door. He pushed the button on an intercom and spoke into it. "Ms. O'Sullivan to see Mr. Shaw," he said.

The front door opened and a petite, middle-aged, Filipino woman appeared in the doorway. She had large brown eyes and wore a proper black and white maid's uniform. "This way please," she said.

The maid led me down a long wood-paneled corridor to a pair of closed French doors. She knocked and then turned the handle and opened the doors.

"Ms. O'Sullivan to see you, Mr. Shaw," she announced.

The maid stood aside so that I could enter the room. She then stepped back through the doorway, closing the doors behind her.

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# Chapter 2

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A MAN WAS STANDING at a large window looking out. He turned to face me and smiled. "Ms. O'Sullivan," he said. It was more a statement than a question. He was athletic looking, with blue eyes, and a healthy tan that gave him an outdoorsy look. He extended his hand as he walked toward me.

"Douglas Shaw," he said.

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

He stood a little too close to me as we shook hands. He didn't exactly tower over me, but like his chauffeur, he was a bit taller than my six feet. I didn't step back. He didn't intimidate me, but even if he had, I would've stood my ground.

"I understand you're from New Zealand," Shaw said. "Wasn't expecting that. How did you come to be a PI in Los Angeles?"

"Long story," I said. "Love to tell you about it, another time. First, it wasn't necessary to have me threatened with a gun to get me here. If you wanted to move up our appointment, you could have phoned me. I do not respond well to threats."

He laughed as if I'd said something clever. "Well, aren't you the feisty one," Shaw said. "And, quite attractive too, if you don't mind me saying."

The way he said it let me know he didn't care whether I minded him saying it. He gave off the vibe of a man who was accustomed to saying whatever he wanted, not caring whether he gave offense to others or not.

"Won't you have a seat?" Shaw said, motioning me to a leather couch. While I was sitting, he walked over and sat down in a matching leather chair across from the couch. "Let's get to the reason you're here, he said.

I smiled trying to look encouraging.

"My daughter is missing," he said.

I nodded. "Has your daughter ever gone missing before?" I said.

Shaw frowned and nodded his head. "Yes, she has," Shaw said. "She has a habit of leaving and not coming home for several days without any word. Young girls you know. She is headstrong and stubborn."

"Where has she gone in the past," I said.

"Who knows," Shaw said. "She has never deigned to explain her past absences. She had always shown up back here when her money had run out."

"When did your daughter disappear?" I said.

"A week ago, this past Monday," Shaw said.

"Ten days ago?" I said.

"Yes," Shaw said. "I suppose it seems we waited a long while before looking into having her found, but we weren't worried at first. Like I said, she has been gone for days before without a word."

"How old is she?" I said.

"Allison, my daughter, is 24," Shaw said. He rose from the chair and walked to the desk. He returned with a framed photograph. "This is Allison," he said, holding the photograph out to me.

"She's an adult then," I said. "What am I meant to do if I find her? I can't very well drag her back here kicking and screaming if she doesn't want to return."

Shaw started to reply, but the door opened interrupting him. A woman walked in. She was the kind of woman I found annoying. Her hair was too blonde, her breasts enhanced by plastic surgery were too large and too perfect. Her tanned legs were too shapely. She could have passed for thirty, my age. But, the crows feet at the outer corners of her eyes betrayed that she was older than forty. She walked over and sat down on the opposite end of the couch with one perfect leg crossed over the other.

Shaw introduced us. She was the wife, Kathleen Shaw. Kathleen leaned over and offered her hand. Her handshake was firm but feminine. She smiled and said she was happy to meet me.

"Ms. O'Sullivan seems like the kind of person we need," Douglas Shaw said.

Kathleen glanced at me and smiled. "It would have surprised me if you didn't think so," she said.

"Her employer, Ben Malone, recommends her without reservation," Shaw said. "You remember Ben, dear. He has done work for me in Los Angeles many times in the past."

"Do you believe you can find Allison, Ms. O'Sullivan?" Kathleen said.

"It's quite likely," I said.

"Because?"

"Because I'm quite good at what I do," I said.

Kathleen gave me a patronizing smile. "Are you married?"

"I'm not," I said. I didn't see any reason to explain to Shaw's wife that I was a widow.

"Boyfriend," Kathleen said.

"Not that it's germane to the reason I'm here, but I'm not on with anyone at the moment," I said.

"God, don't tell me you're a lesbian," Kathleen said. "Of course given that you're in a rather odd profession for a woman, I'm not sure why that would surprise me."

I felt the heat rising in my cheeks and paused a moment to choke back the rising anger. "Not that my sexual orientation is any of your concern, but no, I'm not," I said. My tone was a bit harsher than I intended.

"Don't forget that we are evaluating you for possible employment," Kathleen said. "You should be mindful of your manners."

"As far as remembering to mind one's manners, I could say the same to you," I said.

"That's rather insolent," Kathleen said.

"I'm only getting started, Mrs. Shaw," I said. "I can be a good bit more offensive than this if you wish to continue pushing my buttons."

Douglas Shaw laughed. "Wow, feisty, Ms. O'Sullivan."

He turned to Kathleen. "Kathleen why don't you go take a swim or read a book or something," Shaw said.

"I'm sorry, Douglas," Kathleen said. "But, she won't do. Hire someone else."

Douglas Shaw's friendly, happy-go-lucky demeanor changed like someone had flipped a switch. "Shut up, Kathleen, and I mean it."

"What?" Kathleen said.

Shaw stood up and stepped over to stand in front of his wife. "I said shut up," he said, "close your mouth and stop talking," Shaw grabbed his wife roughly by the upper arm. "Now get up and go find something to do to occupy yourself. I'll handle this."

It seemed for a moment that Shaw was about to slap his wife. That would have put me in a rather awkward position. It would have forced me to defend an unpleasant woman that I couldn't even stand. But, the situation resolved itself. She rose without noticeable effort from the couch and left the room without another word.

Douglas Shaw looked at me and smiled in a conspiratorial manner. "It was nothing personal Ms. O'Sullivan," he said, "she's a bitch to everyone."

Shaw walked over to a desk and picked up a manila envelope. He returned and sat back down in the chair. "As I was saying before the interruption, we weren't worried at first when Allison didn't come home," he said. "But things have changed."

"Changed how?" I said.

Shaw handed me the envelope. "This arrived at my office in Honolulu two days ago," Shaw said.

Someone had already opened the envelope. I lifted the flap and withdrew the single sheet of paper that was inside. I read the words printed on it.

We have your daughter Allison. If you want her back alive, it will cost you $750,000. You have three days to raise the cash. We will be in contact with instructions on where to deliver the money. No cops. We will be watching. If we see any cops, Allison is dead.

I returned the document to the envelope and handed it back to Shaw. "Sorry, I'm out," I said. "I can't help you with this. I could lose my license. I could lose my license for not making a phone call right now since you have told me someone abducted you daughter. You need to call the police."

"No cops," Shaw said. "You read the note. I have the money. I'm going to pay them. I need your help."

"You must know that paying the ransom is no guarantee that they will release Allison unharmed," I said. "Assuming that she is still alive at the moment, she is an adult. Kidnappers aren't keen on leaving an adult victim alive who can identify them."

"Still, I'm going to pay the ransom," Shaw said. "If I involve the police, or I don't pay these people, it seems certain they will kill Allison. If I pay them, at least there is a chance they will release her."

"Not to be cruel," I said, "But, there isn't much chance the people who took Allison will release her at all," I said.

"They might," Shaw said. "Unless they are new to the islands, they must know who I am, who they are dealing with. If they do, they should know that if they harm my daughter, I will have them hunted down and killed. And that is exactly what I'll do."

"Have you heard from them since the note?" I said.

"No," Shaw said. "But, today is the third day since the letter came. I expect them to contact me this evening or in the morning with the instructions for where I'm to deliver the money."

"What is it you expected me to do when you called Malone?" I said.

"I want you to deliver the money," Shaw said.

"You must have an employee who could do that," I said. "I can't imagine why you would pay someone to come here from the mainland to do it. You should get nothing more than simple instructions to make a drop somewhere."

"Sure, I have a lot of employees," Shaw said, "but none I trust with $750,000, not with my daughter's life on the line. But, I trust Malone, and because he sent you, I know I can trust you. I want you to deliver the money."

"If I agree to help you, you have to allow me to do things my way," I said.

"I need to know what I'll be agreeing to first," Shaw said.

"Like I said, there is little chance the people who took your daughter have any intention of releasing her," I said. "If Allison is still alive, paying the ransom and doing nothing more is only going to sign her death warrant. We have to arrange a means of following the money to where Allison is being held so we can get her back. That's her only chance."

"How are you going to do that?" Shaw said. "Follow the money, I mean."

"What's the motive for kidnapping someone and holding them for ransom?" I said.

"Greed, I suppose," Shaw said.

"Exactly," I said. "And we can use the greed of the kidnappers against them."

"How?" Shaw said.

"I haven't quite worked that out yet," I said, "but I'll suss it out. No worries, I'm quite reliable."

"Okay, it's a deal," Shaw said. "We will do it your way. Tell me what I can do to help."

"First, I want you to put together $1 million, not the $750,000 that the kidnappers have demanded," I said. "Then I want you to have the money arranged into four shrink-wrapped packages of $250,000 each."

"They only demanded $750,000," Shaw said. "Why do you want me to give them more than they asked for?"

"That's how we are going to use their greed against them," I said. "You're going to have to trust me for now. Once I've organized a plan, I'll tell you all the details."

"All right," Shaw said. "I'll do as you have asked. I'll get the million and package it the way you described."

"Awesome," I said. "And, call me as soon as you're contacted with instructions for where to deliver the money. I'm hopeful they will give us some advance notice. I'd like to have time to do a reconnaissance of the drop site in advance of making the actual drop."

"Anything else?" Shaw said.

"No, nothing to do but wait now," I said. "The next move is up to the kidnappers."

"Then I suppose you would like to return to Honolulu to your hotel," Shaw said.

"Yes, I would," I said. "It's been a long day, and the flight over is starting to take its toll."

"Very well," Shaw said. "I'll have Ken, the guy who picked you up at the airport, drive you back to Honolulu."

"Sweet, thank you," I said.

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# Chapter 3

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I FOLLOWED SHAW OUT of the room and back up the corridor to the front door. He left me standing on the porch while he went to get the driver. Kathleen Shaw was sitting in a chair a few meters away with a blank look on her face, staring into the distance. She seemed to have been crying. I didn't care for the woman, but I felt compelled to walk over and speak with her.

Kathleen glanced in my direction as I approached her. "I suppose Douglas hired you," she said, "you're attractive enough."

It seemed strange, but the woman appeared jealous of me. "I'm only here to try to get your daughter back," I said.

"I'm certain Douglas has more in mind for you than that," Kathleen said. Her eyes started to fill with tears again.

"You all right, Mrs. Shaw?" I said.

"No, I'm not. If you want to hear about it, the first thing you'll want to know is what my lousy marriage is like. You'll want to know how my dear husband is too occupied with his own affairs to give me the time of day. But, if you want to know the truth, I don't feel like going into it."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.

"Forgive me," Kathleen said. "I'm only feeling sorry for myself when my unhappy circumstances are for the most part of my own making. I suppose Douglas didn't mention to you that Allison isn't his daughter."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Douglas and I married when I was 19," Kathleen said. "He was beginning his military career, and he was on deployment all the time. Not that it is an excuse, but I was young and lonely. On my twenty-first birthday, I went out to a club to celebrate, alone of course. A few days earlier, Douglas had left on another lengthy deployment. It was to some god-forsaken place in the Middle East. I met someone at the club. We ended up in a motel room. It was only a sordid little one night stand, but when Douglas returned a year later, Allison was three months old."

"Did you tell him about it before he returned?" I said.

"No," Kathleen said. "I planned to write him many times, but I was never able to do it. I knew he would be livid when he found out. Douglas has always had a temper, and his temper only worsened the longer he was in the army. So, it was quite a shock when he arrived home."

"What happened?" I said.

"He didn't throw me out, which is what I had expected," Kathleen said. "He called me some unflattering names, he beat me until I was black and blue, but he didn't leave me. He deserves some credit for that. And he has never told Allison that he isn't her father."

"How awful," I said.

"I tried to make amends, but Douglas has never been the forgiving type," Kathleen said. "We've lived as roommates since the day he returned from that deployment. He has never touched me since. He gets his sex from other women and flaunts his affairs to humiliate me, to punish me for my transgression."

"Why didn't you divorce?" I said.

"Douglas wouldn't allow that," Kathleen said. "He said if we divorced it might become known that I had Allison by another man. He said that he didn't want it to become common knowledge that he had married a whore. It would hurt his career. Instead, he insisted that we would remain married. He promised to make me regret what I'd done to him for the rest of my life."

"Still, it seems you could have left him," I said.

"No, I couldn't have," Kathleen said. "I had no education beyond a year at college after high school. I had never held a job. I had a child to support and no way to support her on my own. My mother died when I was a child, and my father had passed away before Allison was born. I had no siblings. I had no place to go. And, Douglas warned me that if I tried to leave him, he would have me declared unfit and take Allison away from me."

"It sounds as if you've had nothing but a living hell," I said.

"That's a fair assessment," Kathleen said. "But, as said, my circumstances are the consequences of my own foolish decision. And, Allison has been my saving grace. She can be difficult at times, but I love her more than anything."

"I can't begin to imagine how you've managed to live in such a way," I said.

"It hasn't been all bad," Kathleen said. "In fairness, Douglas has been an excellent provider both for Allison and me. We've never wanted for anything. I've had all the material things a woman could want, I've only not had happiness."

"I'm going to do everything I can to get Allison back, Mrs. Shaw," I said.

"Thank you, Ms. O'Sullivan," Kathleen said. "I apologize for my rude behavior earlier. I've had my fill of Douglas' affairs. When I saw the way he was ogling you, I knew he had more in mind for you than hiring you to find Allison."

"Mrs. Shaw, it doesn't matter one whit what your husband may have had in mind," I said. "I have no interest in sleeping with your husband or any married man for that matter."

"That may be true," Kathleen said. "But, Douglas can be quite charming and persuasive when he puts his mind to it. I've yet to see him not get something he wanted and it's quite clear to me that he intends to have you before this is over."

"Not even," I said. "What a sad guy. I've known heaps of men like your husband. I can't be bothered with pricks like that. I'm here for one reason, to get your daughter home safe."

Kathleen rubbed her upper arm mindlessly. I saw that the place where her husband had grabbed her arm earlier was starting to bruise.

"I trust that you will be discreet, Ms. O'Sullivan," Kathleen said. "If Douglas were to learn what I've shared with you, he would fly into a rage."

It seemed obvious that Kathleen was afraid of her husband. "No worries, Mrs. Shaw," I said. "I won't say a word. You can trust me."

I heard voices and turned to see Douglas Shaw and the driver, Ken, approaching the porch.

"Ken will drive you back to Honolulu now, Ms. O'Sullivan," Shaw said. He looked at Kathleen and me, curiosity written on his face. "Seems you two have mended fences," he said. "What have you two been talking about?"

"Nothing much," I said. "Just girl talk, you wouldn't find it of interest."

I walked down the steps and over to the car where Ken was holding the rear passenger door open. Shaw followed me to the car. I got in next to my luggage.

"You have my mobile number," I said to Shaw. "Call immediately when you hear something. I'll be ready to get on to it."

"Thank you, Ms. O'Sullivan," Shaw said. "I hope we can wrap this thing up without delay. Once it is over, I hope you will consider staying in Hawaii for a few days for something more entertaining."

I felt like punching Shaw in the throat but decided to behave demurely for the moment. "Perhaps," I said, "we'll see how it goes." I flashed him my best fake smile. What a prick.

Shaw smiled and closed the door as Ken got in the front seat and started the engine. We drove out of the carpark and headed back to Honolulu.

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# Chapter 4

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AN HOUR LATER, KEN dropped me at my hotel. I had a room at the Sheraton on Kalakaua Avenue. It was a 4-star oceanfront hotel with three restaurants on property. Malone, my boss, would have insisted on more budget-conscious accommodations. But, Shaw had organized the flash lodging, so it was all good.

After checking in, I went up to my room and changed into my togs. I'd picked up a nice little yellow two-piece swimming costume from a shop in LA for the trip. I thought it went well with my ginger hair.

It was a bit before four o'clock in the afternoon. There was still plenty of sunshine to allow me to work on my tan. I grabbed a beach towel, my sunnies, and my phone. I tossed them into my canvas beach bag along with a mint green sarong cover-up. After slipping on a pair of jandals, I headed downstairs to the beach.

The beach was amazing. I found a spot and spread the towel on the powdery sand. After making myself comfy, I decided to call and check in with Malone before taking a dip in the sea. I dialed his mobile, and he answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Malone, how's it going?" I said.

"Can't complain," he said. "How's it going with you?"

"Not too shabby actually," I said. "I've met with Shaw and his wife, and now I'm back in Honolulu relaxing on the beach."

"Terrific," Malone said. "What did you think of Shaw?"

"Not impressed, he's a real prick," I said.

Malone laughed. "I told you he could be a little overbearing."

"Yep, that too," I said. "You said Shaw was a businessman, but he seems a bit dodgy to me. How do you know Shaw and what kind of business is he in exactly?"

"We met when we were in the army," Malone said. "He was one of my battalion commanders. After he retired, he started a government contracting business. He supplies paramilitary operators to the government for a fee. They go places and do things that the DOD wants to avoid having a direct connection with."

"Right, a merc outfit," I said. "I should have known from the guys I saw at his place. I ran across a few of those dodgy bastards in Afghanistan and wasn't impressed."

"Some of them are good guys," Malone said, "and they serve a purpose in combat zones."

"Malone, they are killers for hire. They can't be bothered with the rules every legitimate military force abides by. But, I digress. Another thing is the circumstances here are not as Shaw described them to you, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it isn't a garden variety missing person case," I said. "Someone abducted Shaw's daughter. They have sent a ransom demand. At the moment we're waiting for instructions on where to deliver the money."

"Ah, shit," Malone said. "You have to be careful with that, T. J., really careful."

"Yep, I know, I could lose my license getting involved with a kidnapping," I said. But Shaw refused to call in the authorities. For the daughter's sake, I finally agreed to help."

"So, what's your plan?"

"Haven't sussed it all out actually," I said. "But, I've got to organize a plan for following the ransom money to where the girl is being held. That's the only real hope of getting her back."

"Shaw is willing to pay?" Malone said.

"Yes, he insists on it," I said. "Even after I gave him the standard disclaimer. I told him paying the ransom would not guarantee anything. He still intends to pay."

"Yes, it's hard to imagine they would turn loose a victim who could identify them," Malone said.

"Precisely," I said. "Assuming Shaw's daughter is alive now, I'm sure she won't be for long once the people holding her get the money."

"You have to stay well below the radar on this," Malone said. "It will be bad news if the Honolulu cops get wind you're working a kidnapping. You better believe they will report it to the State of California. You may even lose your license to operate your VIP protection gig."

"Right, I'm aware of all that, Malone," I said. "I'll be careful."

"I could hop on a plane and come over to help."

"Yeah, nah, mate. I'm all good at the moment. You know I never do stupid shit. If it starts looking like things are going sideways, I'll tap out."

"You better," Malone said. "I mean it T. J.--Colonel Shaw will have to understand if you can't pull this off without sticking your neck too far out."

"No worries, I will drop out if I must," I said.

"Okay, call me if you need anything, and be careful."

"Right," I said, "see you soon."

I disconnected the call and put the mobile down. I turned over on my stomach to get some sun on my backside. Hearing Malone's voice always left me feeling a bit tingly. When I wasn't in denial of it, I had to admit I had a bloody crush on him like some silly schoolgirl. With the distraction of thinking about Malone, I decided to skip the dip in the sea and to go for a drink instead. Afterward, I was going back to my room to have a rest.

I pulled the sarong out of my bag, wrapped, and tied it. Then I set out across the sand to the Edge, the Sheraton's signature bar. I ordered a Blue Hawaii at the bar. It seemed an appropriate match for my mood. I carried the drink out to a table on the patio so I could look at the sea. I promised myself I'd have the one drink and then head upstairs to my room. I couldn't afford to get trolleyed. There was no way to predict when I'd hear from Shaw and I had to stay sharp.

Five minutes after finishing the drink, I was in my room lying on the bed trying to nap. At some point, in spite of the thoughts of Malone, I drifted off to sleep.

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# Chapter 5

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IT WAS 9:30 IN THE evening. As I walked into the lobby of the hotel after having had dinner, my mobile rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. The call was from Douglas Shaw. I answered it.

"The kidnappers called," Shaw said.

"What instructions did they give you?" I said.

"They didn't," Shaw said. "They called to make certain I had the money ready, then they asked who would deliver it. The guy said he would phone tomorrow morning with the instructions."

"Bugger," I said. "We will get the instructions last minute I expect, and there won't be time for reconnaissance."

"Will that negate your plan?"

"No, I will work around it," I said. "What did you tell them when they asked who would deliver the money?"

"Only that a woman who works for me would make the drop," Shaw said. "The guy didn't ask for a name, and I didn't offer one."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "They will know who I am soon enough."

"So, what is the plan?" Shaw said. "Do you have it worked out?"

"Yes, it's sorted as best it can be without knowing the when and where of the drop," I said.

"Then tell me why we're giving them more money than they demanded."

"The individual who comes to collect the ransom will know the amount of money they demanded," I said. "I'll make certain the person knows we're delivering a good bit more than that, and then greed should take its course."

"How do you mean?" Shaw said.

"I reckon the person who comes to the drop will decide to keep the extra $250,000," I said. "In my experience, it's true that there is no honor among thieves. He or she will hide the extra $250,000 and then meet his or her accomplices with only the $750,000 demanded."

"And that helps us how?" Shaw said.

"I expect there will be an observer nearby watching while one of them is collecting the money," I said. "That means the person who collects the ransom won't have a lot of time to stash the extra money. I expect he or she will hide it somewhere at the drop site and then will return for it later. When that happens, I will be waiting. I'll confront the person and find out where Allison is being held."

"Clever," Shaw said, "that might work if you can get the person to talk."

"No worries," I said. "They will talk."

"You're very confident aren't you," Shaw said. "I like that in a woman."

"I'm good at what I do, Mr. Shaw," I said.

"No need for such formality," Shaw said, "please call me Doug."

"If you don't mind, I'm all good with Mr. Shaw," I said. "You're a client, and I prefer to keep business on a business level."

"But once we conclude our business, there isn't any reason things can't become a little more intimate," Shaw said. "Frankly, I find you very attractive and hope to get better acquainted."

"Let me be clear," I said. "You are paying me to get your daughter back. That's the extent of our acquaintance. That's not going to change, Mr. Shaw."

"You can play hard to get all you want, but I'm persistent and accustomed to getting what I want," Shaw said. "I'll win you over in the end."

"No, you won't actually," I said. "Ring me when you get the instructions for the drop from the kidnappers. Goodnight, Mr. Shaw." I disconnected the call. What a prick.

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THE ALARM ON MY PHONE awakened me at seven the next morning. I turned it off with a groan. It seemed like I'd only fallen asleep minutes before. I had been packing a sad when I'd gone to bed the night before. I'd been thinking about my late husband, David. We were meant to holiday in Hawaii when he returned from his last assignment in Afghanistan. Only David didn't return as expected. He came home on a military cargo plane in an aluminum, flag-draped "transfer case." David died in a Kabul hotel bombing engineered by the Taliban.

I walked to the shower rubbing the sleep from my eyes. After showering, I got dressed for the day. I didn't know when a call from the kidnappers would set things in motion. But I knew it could all be on with only a moments notice.

First, I put on the yellow bikini I'd bought for the trip. I put on a pair of navy board shorts and a gray singlet over the togs. I chose socks and athletic trainers for footwear. It seemed more appropriate than the comfortable jandals I'd have preferred wearing. I might have to move fast.

I grabbed my canvas beach bag. After tossing in my sarong cover-up, a pair of sunnies, and a Dodger's baseball cap Malone had given me I added two more items. I put my Colt Detective Special short-barreled revolver into the bag along with a Leupold Mark 4 spotting scope. Satisfied I was ready, I went downstairs to the hotel restaurant and had breakfast.

At eight-twenty, Shaw rang me. He told me that he had received the instructions from the kidnappers. I was meant to make the drop at Hanauma Bay Nature Preserve at eleven o'clock. Shaw said that he and his driver Ken would pick me up in front of my hotel within the hour. He told me the caller had given instructions for me to bring some specific items to the drop. Shaw said he'd pick them up from Ala Moana Center on the way. He said he would give me the details when he saw me and disconnected without explaining what the items were.

With almost an hour to kill, I took the opportunity to do a quick Internet reconnaissance of the drop site. I'd seen a brochure on Hanauma Bay in the hotel lobby and recalled it was a popular Oahu snorkeling venue. I typed the name into the search bar on the browser on my phone and found the link.

Hanauma Bay Nature Preserve, or Hanauma Bay State Park was a bay within an ancient volcanic cone. Located on Kalanianaole Highway in east Honolulu, the park was open most days from 6:00 in the morning until 7:00 in the evening. According to the website, the park saw an average of 3000 visitors a day. It was surprising to me that the kidnappers had chosen such a crowded public area for the drop. But that would bode well for my plan.

There was an aerial photograph of the Hanauma Bay on the website. There was a carpark and facilities built on a cliffside near the entrance. A steep paved road connected the top level with the beach level where the snorkeling took place. A tram service provided transport for visitors between the upper and the lower level.

Of particular interest to me was that coin-operated lockers were available at beach level for guests to store valuables. If the person assigned to collect the ransom decided to keep the extra $250,000 I was certain they would stash it in one of those lockers. All in all, I couldn't imagine a more perfect venue for my plan.

Satisfied with my reconnaissance, I grabbed my beach bag and left the hotel restaurant. I found a bench on the sidewalk in front of the hotel and sat down to wait for Shaw to arrive. I took the ball cap and sunnies out of the bag, put them on, and settled in to wait.

At 9:25, the Shaw's limo pulled to the curb in front of the hotel. Ken was driving, and Shaw was sitting in the back. The rear door opened and I got inside. As the car pulled away from the curb, Shaw smiled at me and placed a hand on top of my left thigh. "You're so attractive," he said.

I didn't return the smile. I shoved his hand off my thigh. "If you want to keep your nuts, you need to stop what you're doing right now," I said. "Tell me the details about the drop."

Shaw's mood immediately changed. The big smile disappeared. Finally, he spoke. "Once you enter the gate, you are to go directly to the tram stop and board the first one available for transport to the beach level. The person sent to collect the ransom will contact you."

Shaw reached into a shopping bag and pulled out a green felt floppy hat with an absurd looking floral stitching on it. "You're to wear this hat," Shaw said. "That's how the person will recognize you."

"That should do it," I said. "It's the most hideous looking hat I've ever seen, and I'm certain no one else will be wearing one besides me."

Shaw nodded. He lifted a bright blue backpack covered in colorful pink Hibiscus flowers from the floorboard. "The guy who called also instructed me to buy this specific day pack to put the money in," Shaw said.

He dropped the bag back onto the floorboard and picked up a smaller black nylon bag. It was a promotional drawstring backpack with a store logo on it. "I put the extra $250,000 in this bag like you said."

"Awesome," I said. "We need to make it easy for greed to take its course. That's why I wanted a separate bag for the extra money."

We left Waikiki and drove north on a motorway which I assumed was Kalanianaole Highway. "I really like you, T. J.," Shaw said, "but, you need to stop acting like such a bitch."

I glared at him. "Please, mind your language," I said. "I won't have to act like such a bitch if you agree to stop acting like a prick, will I?"

Nothing more was said until we drove into the parking lot at Hanauma Bay. Ken stopped the limo in the area where taxis discharged their passengers.

"Should we wait for you in the parking lot?" Shaw said.

"No, they may have a lookout," I said. "I don't want to arouse any suspicion. Once I've made the drop I'll blend in with the crowd and wait for the person who makes the pick up to return to retrieve the extra $250,000. I'll ring you with an update when I can."

"You sure this is going to work?" Shaw said.

"No reason it shouldn't," I said. "Greed is a common affliction among our race."

I took off the ball cap and sunnies and put them back in my beach bag. I put on the hideous floppy hat and got out of the limo. Shaw handed me the backpack, and I put it on my back. I grabbed my beach bag off the seat and put the straps over my shoulder. Shaw handed me the drawstring pack. I closed the door and headed toward the entrance carrying the drawstring pack. The game was afoot.

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# Chapter 6

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AT THE ENTRANCE, I paid the posted $7.50 entry fee. The guy in the booth told me I had to view a mandatory video before entering the park. He directed me to the marine education center down the way. Inside the center with other guests, I watched the video. It covered the local marine life, preservation of the coral reef, and park safety rules.

The video lasted about 10 minutes. Exiting the marine education center, an employee placed a stamp on my hand that would allow me to enter the beach area. I hoped the delay wasn't going to be a problem since it was almost eleven when the film ended. Surely, the kidnappers knew about the required video.

I walked over to the tram stop and got into another queue. An employee walked along the line collecting the $1 fare. After handing him the dollar, he told me I could board the tram carriage. The instructions were to load from front to back, but I hopped on and sat on the seat at the very rear. After a minute or so, a guy of about 30 years of age got on and sat down beside me. He looked to be a native Hawaiian, with wavy black hair, and brown eyes. He was short, a bit heavy, and wore a black nylon Nike tracksuit. He nodded to me when he sat down, but didn't speak.

The tram finished loading and got underway. The guy beside me turned and said, "You bring the money?"

"Yes, one million dollars," I said. I didn't miss the look of surprise that flashed across the man's face. I pretended not to notice and continued talking. "All the cash wouldn't fit in the backpack," I said. "There is seven hundred fifty thousand in the backpack and two hundred fifty in the smaller pack."

"Let's see it," the guy said.

I lifted the blue kitbag to my lap and unzipped the top and held the bag so the guy could see inside. He nodded. I zipped the bag and set it on the floor. I picked up the smaller bag, pulled open the drawstring top and repeated the process. He nodded again. I closed the bag and set it on the floor beside the other one. The guy grabbed both bags and pulled them over between his legs.

"When the tram stops at the bottom, don't get off. Remain seated, pay the return fare, and ride it back up to the top."

"Got it," I said.

"And when you get to the top, immediately exit the park and leave," he said. "No funny business. I have an associate up there who will be watching you."

"No worries," I said. "But, when do we get the girl back?"

"Someone will contact you after we count the money and we're satisfied," the guy said.

The tram reached the bottom of the hill and came to a halt. Everyone disembarked except for my new friend and me. The driver walked back to us. "You need to get off now," the driver said. "We've got to load up for the trip back up top."

"My friend isn't feeling well," the guy beside me said. "She is going to ride back up with you." He handed the driver two dollars.

"Okay," the driver said. "Sorry, you aren't feeling well, ma'am. We'll be leaving in a couple of minutes."

The guy beside me got off the tram. He put the backpack on his back and then grabbed the string backpack off the floor of the carriage. He turned without a word and sauntered off toward the beach area. I turned to watch. He stepped into a grove of palm trees and was partially concealed. Still, I was sure he had gone inside a small hut about 100 meters from where I was sitting. Awesome I thought, expecting the hut was where the lockers were.

The tram started up and headed back up the hill. I turned and watched the hut until I could no longer see it for the trees. I hadn't seen the guy come back out. Halfway up the hill, I noticed a small orange and black helicopter circling low over the park. It appeared as if it was preparing to land. I wondered what that was about.

The tram stopped at the top of the hill, and I got off with the rest of the passengers. I had to be quick about it. I couldn't count on the fact that the guy who took the money had been lying about having an associate watching me. I ducked into a restroom. I first tossed the ugly hat into the rubbish bin. I stripped off the board shorts and singlet and stuffed them into the beach bag. I put on the sarong, the ball cap, and the sunnies. Hopefully, I looked different enough that the guy wouldn't recognize me if he got a look. The aerial photo I'd seen earlier made it clear he would have to return to the top using the same road I had to exit the park. The beach area below was bounded by the sea on one side and a sheer cliff face on the other two sides.

After changing I exited the ladies room and melted into a crowd of tourists. From my location, I could see the road running up from down below. Sure enough, about five minutes later I saw the guy in the black tracksuit get off a tram and walk towards the park exit. He had the blue backpack on his back, but the smaller bag was nowhere to be seen. He'd left it down below in the lockers as I had expected. There had been no reason to believe he'd share the extra $250,000 with his accomplice or accomplices.

I waited until he passed through the exit and then followed, moving slowly so as not to arouse suspicion. As I reached the exit, I saw the small helicopter descending. The guy in the tracksuit was jogging toward an open grassy area beside the carpark. The helicopter touched down on the grass. The guy threw the backpack inside and then climbed aboard. The engine revved up, and the helicopter lifted off. It turned and flew away with Shaw's money and was soon out of sight. Now all I had to do was wait.

I looked at my phone and saw it was 11:30. No way to know how long I'd have to wait. That would depend on the length of the flight and then how long it took for him to make the return trip. I was certain he wouldn't risk leaving the money here overnight. The park closed at seven. He would have to be back before then.

I gave Shaw a ring to report that the drop had gone off without a hitch. I told him that the courier had taken the bait and left the extra cash behind. I promised to ring him again when I had another update. Then I disconnected the call before Shaw had the opportunity to become obnoxious again.

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# Chapter 7

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I'D FOUND A NICE SPOT beneath some trees near where the helicopter had touched down to pick up the ransom courier. It was out of the way where I couldn't be easily spotted from the carpark. With the spotting scope, I had an unobstructed view of the park entrance. Watching the entrance offered the best chance of seeing the courier guy when he arrived.

Before exiting the park and taking up my observation post, I'd bought a couple of bottles of water. After waiting for a couple of hours, the second bottle was almost empty, and very soon I was going to have to re-enter the park to visit the ladies. While pondering that I caught sight of the Hawaiian guy in the Nike tracksuit through the scope. He was walking toward the park entrance from the carpark. He glanced from side to side as if he were expecting the cops or someone to jump out and confront him.

I waited as he showed the attendant the stamp on his hand and walked through the gate. There was no need to rush. I wanted to confront him down the hill at beach level, not up here. If he decided to do a runner, I wanted him hemmed in by the natural obstacles to flight. Though to be fair, looking at him I didn't expect he could outrun me on foot.

Once the man had disappeared from view, I took off the sarong. I put the shorts and singlet back on over my togs. After putting on my ballcap and sunnies, I picked up the beach bag and headed for the park entrance. I showed the stamp on my own hand to the attendant at the gate, and he waved me through. This time I bypassed the tram. Walking down to beach level wasn't difficult, it was getting back up the steep hill. I reckoned that's why the tram charged a bit more for the return trip than the trip down the hill.

At the bottom of the hill, I headed for the hut where I suspected the coin-operated lockers were. I was almost to it when the guy came out the door with the black drawstring backpack.

"Hey!" I shouted.

The guy looked at me. It took him a bit to recognize me because I'd discarded the silly hat. But when it finally registered who I was, he wheeled and broke into a run. I picked up the pace, but a jog was all I needed to keep him in sight.

He broke out of the trees in a small grassy open area and found himself looking up at a sheer cliff face with nowhere to go. I was almost on top of him at that point. Hearing my approach, he spun toward me, holding the backpack by the shoulder straps. He swung it at my head. I ducked, and the bag swooshed harmlessly above my head. Without breaking stride, I grabbed a handful of his tracksuit at his throat. I took his feet out from under him with a foot sweep. He went down hard on his backside. He rolled over and started to push himself up with his arms. But I put my foot on his arse and gave him a good hard push that sent him into a face plant. I dropped a knee into the middle of his back with all my weight behind it and heard the air rush out of his lungs with a whoosh. I stuck the barrel of the Colt I'd retrieved from the beach bag against the base of his skull.

"I'd not like to shoot you," I said, "but you better believe I will if you don't stop resisting."

"Okay," he gasped, "I'm done. Are you a cop?"

"Not exactly," I said. "But if you don't do what I say, you will wish I was a cop instead of the mad bitch I am."

"You won't shoot me with all these people around," the guy said.

"Don't bet on that, mate," I said. "Everyone is having fun on the beach. They aren't aware of what's going on over here. I could shoot you and then walk out of the park before anyone realized what had happened."

"What do you want?" the guy said.

"I want you to show me where Allison Shaw is being held," I said.

"I'm not involved in that," the guy said.

"Of course you are," I said. "You collected the ransom."

"I mean besides that," the guy said. "A guy offered me two thousand bucks to meet you and pick up the money. That's all I had to do with it."

"But, you know where the money went," I said. "I saw you board the little orange helicopter near the carpark. I reckon I'll find Allison Shaw wherever you flew off to with the money."

"If you're not a cop, let's work something out here," the guy said. "There is a quarter of a million dollars in the bag. I'll split it with you."

"If it was money I wanted, why would I split it with you, rat bastard?" I said. "I've got a gun. I could take it all."

"I'm so stupid," the guy said. "I knew the money was too good to be true. I should have just given it to the guy with the rest of it."

"But, you didn't," I said, "because you got greedy. I was counting on that, actually."

Keeping the gun pressed against the back of his head I patted the guy down with my left hand. I found a wallet on his right side and dug it out of the pocket.

"Hey, that's my wallet," the guy said.

"Yes, it is," I said, opening the wallet. I found a Hawaii license. "I like to know who I'm chatting with, Jimmy Kamaka. Now I won't have to keep calling you rat bastard."

"Just take the money," Kamaka said. "Let me go."

"No, Jimmy," I said. "I need your help. And, if you cooperate, I might let you keep the money."

"No you won't," Kamaka said, "you're lying."

Of course, I'm lying you twit. "No, Jimmy, I'm not," I said. "Why wouldn't I let you keep it. It's not mine. It belongs to the guy who paid the $750,000 ransom to get his daughter back. As long as he gets her back safe and sound, I doubt he could be bothered with losing this $250,000."

"What do I have to do?" Kamaka said.

"You only have to take me to where you went in the helicopter," I said. "Then, I'll let you go, and you can keep the money."

"I still think you're lying," Kamaka said. "But, okay. What do I have to lose? I'll take you there."

"Alright, Jimmy," I said. I'm getting off you now, but don't move until I tell you to. Understand?"

"Yeah," Kamaka said.

I stood up and took a couple of steps backward. "Okay, roll over on your arse, Jimmy," I said. "We need to be clear on one thing more before I let you get up."

Kamaka rolled into a sitting position. I took the Colt in a two-handed grip and pointed it at Kamaka's crotch. "You see where I'm pointing this gun, Jimmy?" I said.

"Yeah," Kamaka said, his eyes wide.

"If you want to keep your nuts, Jimmy," I said, "don't try any stupid shit once I let you get up. If you do, I'll blow them off and possibly the thing they are attached to. Understand?"

"Holy shit, you're a psycho," Kamaka said. "Okay yeah, I understand."

"Awesome," I said. "You can get up now."

Kamaka got to his feet. He looked a bit shaky.

"Pick up the backpack, Jimmy," I said.

Kamaka picked it up.

"Now, we're going to walk out of here together without bringing any attention to ourselves," I said. "We're going to walk up the hill to the carpark and get into your car. Then you're going to drive me to where you went to in the helicopter with the money. I'm going to put the gun in my bag, so I don't scare anyone. But, remember, Jimmy. It will still be in my hand with my finger on the trigger. You do anything to annoy me, I'll shoot you in the leg first. Then when you go down, I'll shove the gun into your crotch and blow your little mates right off."

"I'm not going to do anything," Kamaka said.

"Sweet," I said. "Go. Start walking."

I kept close to Kamaka as we walked towards the road leading up the hill. I guided him with whispered commands so that we gave the crowds of park visitors a wide berth. I didn't want him seized by any inspiration to try and attract attention by allowing him to get close to a crowd. If he had any such thoughts, he didn't reveal it. Kamaka walked straight to the road, up the hill, and out the exit to the carpark. He behaved himself, not giving me the slightest reason to shoot off his treasured bits.

Kamaka led me to a faded green Toyota sedan with copious amounts of rust on the fenders. "This is my ride," Kamaka said.

"Okay, unlock the passenger door, Jimmy," I said. "Then walk around and get in behind the wheel."

Kamaka did as I told him. While he walked around the car, I opened the front passenger door but didn't get in. I waited to get in until he had opened his door and climbed in. He tucked the backpack into the space between the two front seats. I got in the car, with the gun back outside the beach bag and pointed at Kamaka. He started the car and backed out of the parking space. We drove out of the carpark and then south on Kalanianaole Highway toward Waikiki.

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# Chapter 8

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"WHERE WE GOING, JIMMY?" I said.

"Bellows Air Force Station," Kamaka said. "It's over on the east side of the island, on Waimanalo Bay."

"A military installation?" I said.

"Sort of," Jimmy said. "It was an airfield back in the day, but the Air Force deactivated it a long time ago. The runways are overgrown with grass now for the most part, but the Air Force still owns it. The jarheads from the Kaneohe Bay base use the beaches next to it for training sometimes."

"Jarheads?" I said.

"Yeah, you know the Marines," Kamaka said.

"Why was a military installation chosen for this?" I said.

"The military isn't using it for a couple of weeks," Kamaka said. "Adam, the dude who paid me to meet you and pick up the money, he knows this other dude in the Air Force Reserves who has keys to the place. Adam borrowed the keys for a few days while no one is using the place."

"What's there?" I said.

"A little air traffic control tower and a building they use for offices sometimes," Kamaka said.

"And that's where Allison Shaw is?" I said.

"Look, I told you I'm not involved in any of that," Kamaka said. "I don't know nothing about that girl you're talking about. I only know that's where Adam flew me in his helicopter."

"How do you know this Adam?" I said.

"We work together," Kamaka said. "He flies choppers for Oahu Air Tours, and I'm a mechanic there."

"So, you're mates?" I said.

"Mates?" Kamaka said. "You mean like friends?"

"Yes, Jimmy," I said, "are you and Adam friends?"

"No, not really," Kamaka said. "I mean we work at the same place and sometimes we have a few beers together after work. That's about it."

Things went quiet for a while. Then Kamaka spoke up again. "Adam isn't going to be expecting me back there," he said. "He'll be suspicious when we drive up."

"Then we'll stop close by and walk the rest of the way," I said.

"Why can't I just drop you off there and leave?" Kamaka said. "You said you would let me go if I took you there."

"Yes, I mean to do that," I said. "But, I'll need a ride back to Honolulu first after I finish my business with Adam."

We rode the rest of the way in silence until Kamaka pulled off the motorway onto a narrow paved road. The road ran parallel to the motorway we had exited. "Almost there," Kamaka said. A few minutes later he slowed and pulled off onto the side of the road on the grass and stopped. He pointed to the left.

"The tower and building are over that way on the other side of the trees," Kamaka said.

"Sweet as, Jimmy," I said. "Switch the car off and hand me the keys."

Kamaka frowned as he turned off the engine and handed me the car keys.

"Now let's take a walk, lead the way," I said.

We got out of the car. Kamaka and I walked towards the trees in the direction he had pointed earlier. After about a hundred meters I could see the tower he spoke of through the trees. As we neared the tree line on the opposite side, I saw the office building Kamaka had mentioned. The orange and black helicopter was sitting on the carpark between us and the tower.

"Looks like Adam is still here," I said.

"Yeah," Kamaka said. "I think he is staying here until he finishes the gig."

A moment before we stepped out of the tree line, I heard three muffled gunshots in quick succession. We stopped walking. "What the hell?" Kamaka said.

The door at the base of the tower burst open. A guy who looked to be mid-thirties, with longish straight blond hair burst through the door. He ran full tilt toward the helicopter. A young blonde woman appeared in the open doorway behind him. She held a large frame semi-automatic pistol. She aimed the pistol at the running guy and started blazing away.

Since the guy was running toward us trying to reach the helicopter, the bullets were flying our way too. I instinctively dove to the ground behind a tree trunk. I could hear the bullets whizzing by overhead. I turned to see if Kamaka had taken cover. He was on the ground too, but on his back. The grass beneath his head was already turning red. I raised up a little to get a better look. For fuck's sake. As luck would have it, Kamaka had caught a stray round. He had a bullet wound almost dead center in the forehead. No point in crawling over to check for a pulse. Kamaka had carked it.

The helicopter engine was turning up. I looked back in that direction, and the rotors were spinning. The craft lifted off and gained altitude rapidly. The woman stopped shooting. She turned and ran back inside the control tower.

I stood up, and with care peered around the tree. I still had the Colt in my hand. A second before I started to take a step towards the control tower, the woman appeared again in the open doorway. She was carrying the blue backpack with the Hibiscus flowers on it. She ran to a small tan Ford sports utility vehicle parked near the tower. She opened the door, flung the backpack inside, and got in. She started the engine. I hadn't seen the car until the helicopter took off because the craft had blocked it from view. The vehicle accelerated out of the carpark with tires squealing.

I had to get back to Kamaka's car and started running back through the trees to the road where we had left it. When I got to the edge of the trees, I saw a flash of tan as the sports utility vehicle sped past on the access road. I jumped in Kamaka's car, started it, and then made a turnabout. I accelerated after the fleeing Ford. I couldn't be certain because of the distance, but I thought the woman I'd seen looked a lot like the photo of Allison Shaw.

Once I turned onto the motorway from the access road, I caught sight of the sports utility vehicle. It was a good bit ahead of me. I pushed the accelerator to the floor but wasn't gaining much ground on the Ford. If anything it was pulling further away. Then the orange and black helicopter passed over skimming the motorway. It overtook and passed the tan Ford vehicle in a flash. Once it had passed over the vehicle, it banked and made a sweeping turn. Skimming low over the surface of the motorway, the helicopter flew right at the tan Ford. Common sense told me the pilot wouldn't crash the helicopter into a speeding car. With a load of very flammable aviation petrol, that would mean certain death. But the woman driving the Ford seemed to believe that was what was about to happen. She swerved to avoid what she seemed to believe was an imminent collision. She lost control, and the SUV skidded off the roadway. The Ford struck a barrier meant to prevent vehicles from going over a steep cliff into the sea. I reached the crash site moments later and stopped Kamaka's car on the side of the road. I could see the Ford teetering on the edge of the cliff. It had broken through two heavy steel cables and sheered off a couple of thick wooden posts. Smoke was billowing from the engine compartment. It appeared the vehicle was going to burst into flames if it didn't slide over the edge of the cliff into the sea first.

Before I reached the Ford, the driver side door popped open, and the woman staggered out. She started running along the side of the motorway with the blue backpack on her right shoulder. By some miracle, she seemed to have survived the crash without major injuries. As I ran after her, I heard the helicopter approaching from behind me. It was still just off the ground, and I had to dive to the ground to avoid being struck by a skid as it roared over me. The woman was running hard. But, there was no way she was going to outrun a helicopter. That didn't prevent her from trying.

I got to my feet and watched helplessly as the helicopter caught up with the woman. She went flying when one of the skids struck her in the back. I started running toward her.

When I reached her, she was lying face down. I saw a large, bloody gash on the back of her head. I started to bend down and check for a pulse when I heard the beat of the rotors from the helicopter coming at us again. I dropped to a knee beside the woman. While the short barreled Colt revolver was not meant as an anti-aircraft weapon, it was all I had. I sighted on the windscreen of the fast approaching helicopter. I could see the pilot behind it. I squeezed the trigger, emptying the pistol as fast as I could. I didn't know whether I'd hit the pilot, but I had seen bullet holes appear in the windscreen. The machine started to climb rapidly. It screamed overhead. I turned and watched the craft to see if it was going to turn back for another pass. If I hadn't managed to hit the pilot, it seemed I'd got close enough to discourage him. The helicopter continued gaining altitude and flying away. I watched until it was a small dot in the sky and the beat of the rotors had faded away.

I crawled to the woman and touched her neck, looking for a pulse. It was weak, but I found one, and she was breathing. It seemed the impact from the helicopter skid had only knocked her unconscious. Several cars had stopped on the side of the road and people were running up to us.

"Call for an ambulance," I shouted.

The woman moaned and started to come around. She opened her eyes and looked at me. It was Allison Shaw. "Lie still, Allison," I said. "The authorities have been called, and an ambulance is on the way."

"No," Allison said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She tried to get to her feet. I reached out to restrain her.

"Don't get up," I said. "You've been hurt, seriously perhaps."

Allison pushed me away and staggered to her feet. "I need to get away from here," she said.

I stood up and tried to grab her by the arm. She pushed me away again and pulled the semi-automatic pistol I'd seen earlier from beneath her shirt. She pointed at me. "You don't understand," she said. "I have to get away from here. Do you have a car?"

"Allison put down the gun," I said. I took a step toward her.

"Don't come near me," Allison said. "I'll shoot. Now tell me which car is yours and give me the keys."

I continued walking toward her. Her hand was shaking badly. "Give me the gun, Allison," I said. "It's all over. You're safe now. Just give me the gun."

Allison kept the gun trained on me, but she didn't shoot. When I was close enough, I reached out and took hold of the gun. When I did, she relaxed her grip, and I took it from her. Her eyes filled with tears. "Take it," she said. "It's empty anyway."

I reached out and took her in my arms. Allison buried her face in my chest and started to sob.

"Please Ms. O'Sullivan," Allison said. "Please drive me away from here. I have money. I have lots of money. I'll pay you whatever you want. Help me get away from here please."

That's odd, how does she know my name? "You're safe now, Allison," I said. We need to wait for the ambulance. You're injured, and you may need to go to the hospital.

"No, no, no...," Allison said, without raising her head. "I have to get away. Please help me."

I heard sirens approaching. A few minutes later, a Honolulu police cruiser, a fire truck, and an ambulance arrived. A couple of medical technicians put Allison on a stretcher. They applied a neck collar, and then took her to the ambulance and loaded her in the back. A couple of police officers were attempting to get the traffic moving again on the motorway. Firefighters were busy hosing down the smoking Ford. It was still perched on the cliff edge.

Taking advantage of the chaos, I knelt beside the backpack where Allison had dropped it. I unzipped it and found all three packages of money stuffed inside. I stuck my Colt and the semi-automatic I had taken from Allison inside the backpack and zipped it up. Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, I walked back to Kamaka's car. I inserted the key and opened the boot. I tossed the backpack inside. After closing the boot, I walked towards the ambulance. I had to find out where they were taking Allison.

Two more Honolulu police vehicles had arrived at the scene. A blue-uniformed male officer intercepted me on the way to the ambulance.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the officer said. "Did you see the accident?"

"No, officer," I said. "I came upon it while driving on the motorway and saw the car had gone through the barrier."

"So, you didn't see what caused the crash?" the officer said.

"No, I didn't," I said. "I only stopped to see if I could help. It seemed the car was about to catch fire or go over the cliff."

"Are you a resident of Hawaii?" the officer said.

"No, I'm a tourist," I said. "I'm from New Zealand, actually. I'm here on holiday." I didn't fancy lying to the police, but I couldn't tell them the truth about the circumstances. That would have made things a bit awkward for me.

"I guess I don't need your information if you didn't see what caused the crash," the officer said. "But, thanks for your cooperation."

"No worries," I said. "I just want to pop over to the ambulance and see how the young woman is doing, then I'll be on my way."

The officer nodded and headed over to the crowd of passersby that had gathered. I hoped that none of them had arrived in time to see the drama with the helicopter. I intended to be quick about finding out where the ambulance attendants were taking Allison. Then I planned to make myself scarce.

Arriving at the back of the ambulance, I peered inside the open backdoors. A female EMT glanced up from examining Allison.

"Is she all right?" I said.

"Who are you?" the EMT said.

"A passerby, I stopped to help," I said. "I saw blood on her head and can't help feeling concern for her."

"She is stable at the moment," the EMT said. "We'll take care of her."

"May I ask where you are taking her?" I said. "I'd like to ring them later to check on her condition."

"We're taking her to Queen's Medical Center," the EMT said. "But, they won't tell you anything since you're not a relative."

"Oh, right," I said. "Thank you."

I turned and walked back past the crowd of onlookers to Kamaka's car. I needed to get back to Waikiki and to contact Douglas Shaw to tell him about his daughter. I also needed to get rid of Kamaka's car before someone discovered his body. Being caught driving the car of a murder victim would be beyond awkward.

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# Chapter 9

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IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON when I arrived back in Waikiki. First I wanted to get rid of Kamaka's car. I'd seen an advert for a car hire agency located in the parking garage at a hotel on Kalakaua Avenue. I drove there and found a self-parking garage across the street from the hotel on the left side of Uluniu Avenue. I drove to the second level and found a corner space. I used the sarong from my beach bag to do a quick wipe down of the front interior of the car to remove my fingerprints. I expected the garage staff would have the car towed as soon as they realized it didn't belong to a hotel guest.

I got out of the car, careful not to touch anything with my bare hands. I left the key in the ignition after wiping it too. Grabbing the bags off the seat, I flipped the boot release, wiped the door handle after closing the car door, and then went round to the boot. I raised the lid and removed the larger backpack, then shut it and wiped it down with the sarong. Satisfied I hadn't left any prints on the car, I found the stairs and walked down to the street level. After exiting the parking garage, I made my way on Kalakaua Avenue toward the Sheraton. I walked instead of taking a taxi. I didn't want to risk a taxi driver who might remember me and be able to place me in the area where I'd abandoned Kamaka's car. I was happy that it was only a short walk. I was keen to get back to my own hotel so that I could shower and have a rest before dinner. It had been a trying day. I also had to call Douglas Shaw with the news about his daughter before any of that.

I arrived at the Sheraton only to find Shaw's limo parked in the drive. Ken, his driver, was leaning on the front fender smoking a ciggy. I couldn't see his eyes behind the sunnies he was wearing, but I could feel him watching my every step. I made my way to the hotel entrance. Once inside the lobby I removed my own sunnies and looked about for Shaw but didn't see him anywhere in the lobby. I thought he might be waiting in the bar, but decided to go on up to my room and to ring him from there. I decided reporting in by phone was best as I wasn't keen to spend time with Shaw in person.

After getting off the lift, I walked to my room and inserted the key card. When the lock clicked, I opened the door and stepped inside. I'd found Shaw. He was lying on the floor near the bed wearing a white terry cloth Sheraton bathrobe. The open robe revealed that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. Bloody hell! What had Shaw been doing in my room and almost naked? Shaw had a large bloody gash on the side of his head, and there was an unopened bottle of wine on the floor near his feet.

I stooped down and placed my index and middle fingers on the side of Shaw's neck to check for a pulse. There was no pulse. His skin already felt cold and clammy. It seemed Shaw must have been in my room for some time. Getting up, I went back out the door to the lift and back down to the lobby. I wanted to find out from Ken when Shaw had arrived at the hotel. But when I exited the lobby, Ken and the limousine were gone. As I pondered that I heard sirens nearby, that seemed to be getting closer. Was this some sort of setup? I had to get away from the hotel. That was certain. I started walking fast back up Kalakaua in the direction I'd come earlier.

Hearing the screech of rubber tyres on pavement, I looked back over my shoulder. Two HPD cruisers slide to a stop in the hotel drive. I turned my head and kept walking. I ducked into a coffee shop a couple of blocks down the road from the Sheraton. I had to make a plan. Ken had seen me arrive at my hotel long after Shaw had. But I had the uncomfortable feeling that Ken didn't plan on providing me an alibi. The fact that he had left the scene soon after I had arrived suggested that he already knew that Shaw was dead. I surmised he had been waiting for me to arrive back at the hotel so that he could phone the police. The ordinary missing person case I'd expected when Malone sent me to Hawaii was becoming a regular mare's nest. It seemed I had caught myself up right in the middle of something that I didn't know a thing about.

While I hadn't done anything wrong, I'd been with Kamaka when he was killed. Chances were good that I had the gun in the backpack that had been used to kill him. And now, I had another corpse in my hotel room. Making myself available for police questioning didn't seem a good idea at the moment. First, I had to find out what the bloody hell was going on and what I had gotten myself into. I couldn't return to my hotel room again. It also didn't seem wise to take a room at another hotel in Waikiki. If the police started looking for me, I expected that would be the first place they would look. I needed to hire a car and get out of downtown Honolulu until I could sort things out.

I asked one of the baristas behind the counter if there was a car hire agency close by. She told me about the one at the hotel where I'd dumped Kamaka's car. But she also said there was a cheaper one on Kuhio Avenue that rented older cars. Since all I needed was basic transportation, I took my latte and headed out the door towards Kuhio. On the way, I decided that after I'd hired a car, I'd drive up to North Shore to find an out of the way place to stay.

The place on Kuhio turned out to be ideal. It was a mum and pop sort of operation without the connected databases of the national chains. I reckoned it wouldn't be as easy for the Honolulu police to find out that I'd hired a car. While the guy at the counter made out the hire agreement, I accessed the web on my phone. I searched online hospitality services for North Shore vacation rentals. I found an available studio suite in Haleiwa. The advert described it as a gated, beachfront property. It sounded perfect. I contacted the owner through the app hoping I'd hear back before I arrived in Haleiwa. If not, I could spend a night in the car at one of the North Shore beach parks if it came to it.

The agent processed my credit card. He then escorted me out to the lot to do a damage inspection on the blue Nissan Altima I'd hired. The paint was a bit rough, and there were more than a few dents, but it looked to be solid basic transportation. I signed the agreement, and the agent handed me my copy and the keys. I got in and started the engine. There were a few stains on the upholstery. The interior reeked of stale cigarette smoke, but I reckoned I could manage. After entering the Haleiwa address as my destination in the GPS app on my phone, I drove out of the lot bound for North Shore.

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# Chapter 10

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I'D LIVED IN LOS ANGELES for more than three years but still had to focus on keeping to the right while driving. Somehow the American rules of the road seemed easier while riding my motorbike back in LA. Negotiating the Hawaiian motorways in an unfamiliar car was more of a challenge.

About halfway to Haleiwa, the hospitality site app alerted me that I had a message. I pulled to the side of the road to check it. It was a message from the owner of the beachfront suite confirming it was available. I entered my credit card details for a three-day stay.

I didn't know if I'd be able to sort everything in three days. But, I reckoned if it took longer I'd be better off moving to a new place to stay. Staying at one place too long would make it easier for the police to find me. I had no way of knowing whether the police were looking for me or not, but it was the safe bet they were.

After I entered my details into the app, I received another message. The owner of the flat had provided the directions and instructions on where to pick up the key. I updated the GPS with the new address, put the car in gear, and drove back onto the road.

It was almost dark by the time I arrived at the owner's house where I was meant to pick up the key. A cheerful Hawaiian lady answered the door. She told me that the flat was a little way down the road and offered to walk over with me to show me the amenities. I thanked her but told her I was sure I could manage. Key in hand, I got back in the car. It had been a long day and tiring. I was also starving since I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Before going to the flat, I drove back into town to a fast food restaurant I'd passed on the way in. It was an island-themed chain whose menu featured traditional Hawaiian plate lunches. I could be a raving foodie, but after the day I'd had I wasn't feeling particular, only hungry so I went inside.

I ordered the shrimp curry plate. It came with a scoop of rice and a scoop of macaroni salad. It seemed every plate came with that. I reckoned that must be what made it "traditional Hawaiian" food. It wasn't bad, spicy but not too spicy, a mean feed. The macaroni salad was actually quite good. After finishing my dinner, I walked over to a petrol station next door. I bought a bottle of wine to take back to the flat. Then I got in the car and drove back there.

After letting myself in the flat, I took a hot shower and put on the sarong from my beach bag. All the clothes I'd brought on the trip were still at the hotel in Honolulu with my luggage. I'd have to pick up some new clothes tomorrow. I didn't fancy following the example of that Reacher bloke in the Lee Child novels. The guy only owned one suit of clothes at a time. The thought of wearing the same pair of undies for days on end was not attractive. No bloody way. I poured a glass of wine and sat down in front of the television. I switched it on and found a local news channel. Bugger. I had made the news.

A female reporter was standing in front of what I guessed was a police station. A photo of me appeared in the corner of the picture. It wasn't a great photo. I reckoned the police had pulled it from a security camera somewhere. Still, it was recognizable. The reporter began the story by reporting the death of Douglas Shaw. She characterized Shaw as a successful Honolulu businessman. The reporter said that HPD had found Shaw deceased in a Honolulu hotel room. She added that the police suspected foul play. The reporter didn't identify the hotel by name. I reckoned the Honolulu authorities withheld that sort of information. Honolulu's economy was dependent on tourism. No point in harming the tourism business of a popular Waikiki hotel by naming it. The hotel had simply suffered the misfortune of having a murder committed in one of its rooms. The reporter then turned her attention to me, and my photo was enlarged to take up most of the screen.

"HPD is looking for this woman, Tazzi J. O'Sullivan," the reporter said. "She is wanted for questioning in connection with the death of Douglas Shaw." For fuck's sake, she announced my given name on television. She then gave my physical description.

The reporter continued. "A police spokesperson characterized O'Sullivan as a person of interest in the investigation. O'Sullivan was the registered guest staying in the room where police discovered Douglas Shaw's body. Police also told us that O'Sullivan had been observed entering the hotel shortly before police discovered the body. HPD had responded to the location to investigate a reported disturbance." I switched off the television. Bloody hell.

It was official then, the police were looking for me. Besides clothes, I'd have to pick up some things tomorrow to alter my appearance. I hadn't killed Shaw and expected that if I went to the cops, at some point, they would realize I hadn't. But who knew how long that would take? And they might keep me in custody until they did. In police custody, I wouldn't be able to do anything to clear myself or find out what was going on with my case.

If they hadn't one already, I knew the police would get a warrant to pull my mobile phone and credit card records. The police could use the records to suss out my whereabouts. I'd used my credit card to rent the flat. I couldn't risk spending more than the one night here. I reached over and picked up my mobile off the coffee table. I switched it off. I took it into the kitchen.

Using a small knife I found in a drawer, I removed the two screws located near the dock connector. Then, pushing the rear panel of the phone towards the top, it moved up. Opening the phone, I removed the screw that secured the battery connector. I then removed the battery. I wouldn't use my credit cards again. And now there was no way the police could retrieve any further information from my mobile. I'd have to also buy a disposable mobile tomorrow. At least refraining from using the credit cards wouldn't pose a problem. I had one million dollars, the ransom money, in the boot of the car. I'd use that instead until this mess was over. That reminded me that I needed to get the money out of the car. It wouldn't be wise to leave it in the car overnight.

Putting on my jandals, I unlocked and opened the front door and stepped outside. A man stepped out from the shadows. He had a large semiautomatic pistol in his hand. Guns always look as large as a cannon when they pointed at you.

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# Chapter 11

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"HELLO, O'SULLIVAN," the man said.

"And who might you be?" I said. I couldn't make out the details of his face due to the shadows.

"Never mind that," the man said. "I want my money back. Where is it?"

"Ah, Adam," I said. "The helo pilot."

"Shut up," Adam said. "Where is the money?"

"Money?" I said.

"Don't play games with me," Adam said. "I've already been to the hospital to see Allison. She told me you have the backpack."

"The last time I saw you two together she was shooting at you," I said. "I'm surprised she would tell you anything."

"With a pillow pressed over her face, Allison became very cooperative," Adam said. "People tend to get that way when unable to breathe."

"Did you kill her?" I said.

"No, didn't get the chance," Adam said. "A nurse interrupted me moments after she told me you had the backpack. Now, where is it?"

"It's in my hotel room, back in Honolulu," I said. "Or at least it was the last time I saw it."

"You're lying," Adam said.

"I'm not," I said. "If you've heard the news you know the cops think I killed Shaw in my hotel room. I had to run. I didn't have time to take anything, not even the backpack. Even so, I got out of the room only minutes before the cops arrived."

"Yeah, I heard Shaw bought it," Adam said. "So, you did him?"

"I didn't," I said. "But, someone went to a good bit of trouble to make it look as if I did."

"Then come on, we're going back to Honolulu to get the money," Adam said.

"Pardon?" I said. "Did you not hear what I said? The cops think I killed Shaw and they were in my room. Do you actually think the police overlooked a backpack filled with cash?"

"No offense," Adam said, "but I still don't believe you." He motioned with the barrel of the gun. "Let's go inside and have a look. I want to make sure the backpack isn't there."

"Sure," I said. I turned, opened the door, and walked back inside. Adam followed me in and closed the door behind him.

Adam looked around the lounge. "How about the bedroom?" he said. "Let's have a look in there." He motioned with the gun barrel again.

I walked to the small bedroom and went in.

"Stand over there against the wall," Adam said.

I complied. Adam stooped over and checked beneath the bed. Not finding the backpack there, he walked to the wardrobe. After glancing at me, he opened the door and looked inside. No backpack. He then walked around the foot of the bed until he could see the floor on the other side. We repeated the process while he checked the bathroom and kitchen.

"Have you hidden it somewhere outside?" Adam said.

"I didn't," I said. "Like I told you, it was in my hotel room, and I'm certain the police have it now."

"That reminds me," Adam said. "Where is your gun, the one you used to shoot up my bird with?"

"To be fair, you were trying to strike me with your helo," I said.

Adam laughed. "You're quite the smart ass, lady."

"Yep, I can be a bit cheeky when someone is pointing a gun at me."

"So where is it?" Adam said.

"It was in the backpack with the money," I said. "I'm guessing the police have it too."

"Strange that there was nothing in the news about the cops finding $750,000 in your hotel room," Adam said.

"Not really," I said. "The police don't tell the media everything about a murder investigation."

"Maybe not," Adam said. "But to be certain, let's have a look in your rental car outside."

"I'm not mad," I said. "If I had the bloody backpack I wouldn't have left it outside in the car."

"You could have been on your way to retrieve it from the car when I showed up," Adam said. " I see you have the car keys in your hand. You must have gone outside to get something from the car. We'll take a look to make sure the backpack isn't there. Now, move. We're going to check the car."

We walked outside to the car. "My guess is it is in the trunk," Adam said. "Let's look there first."

He directed me to the back of the car. "Open it," he said.

I inserted the key and turned the lock.

"Now take a step back," Adam said, holding the gun straight out in his right hand with the barrel pointed at my face. He looked away for a split second while he lifted the lid of the boot with his left hand. It was time to make my move.

I stepped forward and slapped the inside of Adam's right wrist hard with my right palm. In the same motion, I twisted and ripped the pistol out of his hand with my left. It was a Krav Maga move I learned once from an Israeli Mossad officer. So quick and violent was the move, taking the weapon from Adam had been as easy as taking candy from an infant. Now Adam was looking down the barrel of his own gun.

Adam started to speak, but my right foot was already in motion. I gave him a proper kick in the crotch. Adam doubled over grabbing himself. I followed up with a knee to his face. The blow sent him sprawling backward against the car, and then he bounced off it and slid to the ground on his side.

He put both hands to his nose. There was already a nice bit of blood running from his nostrils. "You broke my nose you bitch."

"At least it made you forget the pain in your nuts," I said. "You're welcome. Now get up rat bastard. We're going back inside. You try anything, and I'll shoot you quick smart right in the arse."

I closed the lid of the boot and pulled the key out. Adam got to his feet and limped back inside the flat with me behind him. The moment we entered the lounge, I bashed him in the head behind the right ear with the butt of the pistol. Adam dropped like a sack of grain.

"Sorry, mate," I said. "I'm feeling a bit shattered, and I couldn't be fucked with dealing with you a moment longer."

After making certain Adam was unconscious, I went to the kitchen and picked up the knife I'd used earlier. I went back to the lounge and cut the pull cords off the mini blinds over the front windows. Putting the gun down, I bound Adam's wrists behind his back with one length of the cord. I used the other to bind his ankles. Satisfied he wasn't going anywhere, I took the gun and went back to the bedroom and got dressed. I couldn't very well tell Adam to get lost and not return. And I'd not get any sleep staying here with him in the flat, so it was time to move. I grabbed my things and went back out the front door.

I'd left the flat key inside where the owner could find it before closing the front door. It was possible Adam might manage to free himself once he came to I reckoned. If not, the flat owner would find him at some point.

I got in the car and drove back to the motorway, headed back towards Honolulu. I arrived in a town called Wahiawa and drove around for a bit until I found a motel that looked a bit dodgy. The motel had a blinking neon sign out front. The word "vacancy" was partly illuminated. I stopped in front of the office.

I took a packet of one hundred dollar bills from the backpack, ripped off the paper band, and dropped the money in my bag. I went into the office and walked up to the counter. There was no one about so I tapped a silver bell on the counter. An elderly Asian guy came out from the back through a doorway covered by a curtain.

"Yes?" he said.

"I need a room for the night," I said.

I followed the man's gaze as he looked at a clock mounted on the wall. It was after one in the morning. Looking back at me he said, "Ninety-six dollars."

"Fine," I said. I reached into the beach bag and pulled out a hundred. "Here you go, keep the change," I said.

The man took the bill. He didn't bother asking for identification or ask me to sign anything. He reached beneath the counter and handed me a room key with a plastic tag attached that had a room number on it. "Room 5," the man said.

"Thank you," I said. I walked back outside, got in the car, and drove along in front of the building until I saw the door with number 5 on it. I parked in front, retrieved the backpack from the boot of the car, and then let myself into the room with the key. It bore no resemblance to the ocean-front flat I'd just left. The room smelt old and musty, the paint faded, and the carpet threadbare. But, it had a bed which is what I was most concerned with at the moment.

After locking the door, I stuck a chair beneath the knob. I turned down the comforter, kicked off my jandals, and fell into bed. The mattress had seen better days but completely shattered in no time I fell asleep.

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# Chapter 12

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I'D SLEPT IN MY CLOTHES which were now wrinkled and soiled. I needed a new outfit among other things. But, when I left the motel a little after eight o'clock, I decided coffee was what I needed first. I found a coffee bar in Wahiawa on Kamehameha Highway. I ordered an Americano with a double shot and an Acai Bowl for brekkie. Mostly, I had ordered it because it was the only thing on the menu other than coffee and tea. It was a yogurt bowl topped with banana slices and granola, drizzled with honey.

After fortifying myself with the most important meal of the day, I went looking for a hair salon. I liked my hair as it was, but after my photo had been broadcast on television, I needed to change my appearance. After a 20 minute search, I found one that accepted walk-ins.

By the time the stylist was ready for me, I'd found the look I wanted in a hairstyles magazine. Two hours later, the stylist had transformed my shoulder-length ginger tresses. They had become a blonde pixie cut paired with blunt, eye-skimming fringe. I asked the stylist to lighten my brows a bit with hydrogen peroxide. She did as I asked although she had insisted blonde hair with dark brows was a thing. I paid her and left the shop to look for a disposable phone. I needed to have a catch up with Malone.

Down the road from the hair salon, I found a shop that sold disposable phones. I bought one along with a charger I could use in the car and a $50 prepaid phone card. Back in the car, I removed the phone from the packaging and plugged it in to charge. I didn't want the bloody thing going flat in the middle of a conversation with Malone.

While I waited for the phone to charge I went in search of a clothing shop. I found a shopping mall and once inside found a shop that sold the clothing I liked to wear. In less than a half hour, I had made my selections. I picked out a simple, casual dress, two pairs of shorts, and a pair of jeans. I bought matching tops for the shorts and jeans, a package of undies, and two bras. I wore the dress out of the store, having tossed the clothes I'd been wearing into the trash bin. With the new hairstyle and some clean clothes, I was all set.

Before leaving the carpark, I rang Malone's mobile, and he answered straight away.

"How's it going?" I said.

"Good, but I was getting a little worried after not hearing from you for two days."

"Yep, sorry about that," I said. "I had a bloody mare yesterday."

"How's the case going?"

"To be fair, things have gone a bit tits up," I said.

"What?" Malone said. "What happened?"

"For starters, Douglas Shaw carked it yesterday. I found him dead on the floor of my hotel room wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Now the Honolulu cops are looking for me because they think I might have killed him."

"Ah, shit," Malone said. "What about the kidnapping?"

"Yeah, I haven't got that all sorted yet, but the whole kidnapping thing looks a bit sus," I said. "I don't think there was any kidnapping. It seems more like it was an extortion scheme to get money from Shaw with his daughter involved in it."

"Where are you now?"

"North of Honolulu, at a place called Wahiawa at the moment," I said. "I'm trying to stay a step ahead of the cops while I try to figure out who killed Shaw."

"What a mess."

"Yep, pretty much a total cock-up, eh," I said.

"What's the plan?"

"First, I'm going to bowl round to Shaw's house and have a chat to the missus and his daughter, Allison," I said.

"I can be on the next flight to Honolulu," Malone said.

"Slow down, Trev," I said. "You needn't ride to the rescue at the moment. I can sort this out, and get things sorted with the police."

"How?" Malone said. "You think whoever killed Shaw is just going to admit it because you asked them if they did it?"

"Of course not, but I have some leverage to use with Shaw's wife and the daughter," I said. "I've got a feeling they know who did it."

"What kind of leverage?"

"I went to rescue the daughter yesterday. I arrived with the guy who met me to collect the ransom. Shaw's daughter, Allison burst out of the building she was in blasting away with a pistol. She shot and killed the guy I was with. I'll threaten to go to the police with that if they don't tell me what they know."

"She'll only deny it if you go to the police," Malone said. "It will be her word against yours."

"I have the murder weapon," I said. "I took it off Allison afterward when she was trying to escape."

"Huh," Malone said. "That might work. But, it might be best if you go to the cops now and let them handle it."

"I've considered that," I said. "But, I'm worried the cops will lock me up while they investigate and I'll be in jail until they get it sorted."

"Still, the longer you are on the run, the worse it looks for you."

"True enough, but I still want to talk to Shaw's wife and daughter before considering turning myself in," I said.

"Okay, T.J., do it your way," Malone said. "But, if things go south, if you get picked up by the police, call me. I'll get there as quick as I can."

"Yeah, definitely. If I get arrested before I can sort this, I'll be happy to have all the help I can get."

We said goodbye, and I disconnected the call. Nothing for it now, but to drive to Shaw's place and see what I could find out. I drove out of the mall carpark onto the motorway and headed toward the east side of the island. A bit less than an hour later, I was on HI-83, headed north up the coast on the windward side of Oahu to Shaw's house. I hadn't a clue what was going to be waiting for me when I got there.

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# Chapter 13

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DRIVING TO SHAW'S PLACE it occurred to me that packing a million dollars around in the boot of the car wasn't smart. Had Adam not been such a muppet, he might have taken the money from me back in Haleiwa. Not only that, but cars get stolen or broken into every day. The problem was finding a secure place to stash the money. But given I was wanted in connection with a murder, I couldn't very well walk into a bank and ask to rent a safe deposit box. As I passed through Kailua, I noticed a sign and an idea for securing Shaw's cash occurred to me. The sign read "Lanikai Beach Adventures."

I followed the directions on the sign. Turning off Kalaheo Avenue onto Kailua Road, I found the shop straight away. It was as expected a beach rental equipment shop. The place rented paddle surfboards, kayaks, snorkeling gear, and beach bikes. It seemed reasonable that the shop must have lockers available for their customers. Customers would need a place to store belongings while enjoying the beach. I walked inside to find out. There was a tall guy with shoulder-length blond hair at the counter. He was wearing board shorts and a muscle shirt and had an awesome tan. He looked up and smiled when I approached the counter. He looked rather skux, but alas, a bit young for me.

"Aloha, may I help you?" the guy said.

"Yep, I wanted to know if I rent something for the beach if you have lockers available where I could park my stuff?"

"Sure do," the guy said. "There are lockers out back between the shop and the snorkel equipment hut. You can use your own lock if you have one, or we can lend you one."

"Sweet," I said. "I'm here for the week. Can I leave stuff in a locker for the week or do I have to empty it at the end of the day?"

"The lockers are intended for daily use. But if you use your own lock, I guess you could leave your stuff in it all week."

"Sweet as," I said. "I'm meant to take a tour in an hour, but I'll be back to rent snorkeling gear later. Thank you."

"No problem," the guy said.

I didn't have a lock, but there was a gift shop I'd passed down the road that looked like it might be a place that had them. I walked to store, and sure enough, there was a selection of padlocks to choose from. I chose one of those round types that are difficult to cut off.

I walked back to the equipment rental place. Instead of going back inside, I walked down the side of the building to the back. I found the lockers right where the guy at the counter had said they were. The lockers were plenty large enough for a backpack. I returned to the car and opened the boot. As I picked up the backpack, I remembered that I'd accumulated a bit of an arsenal over the last couple of days.

Besides the money, there were three handguns in the backpack. My .38 was in it, which I had emptied at Adam's helicopter after Allison crashed her car. The semi-automatic that I'd taken from Allison was also in the backpack. It was also empty. Finally, I'd stowed the semi-automatic I'd taken from Adam in the backpack. It was the only one of the three weapons that had ammunition. I took it out of the backpack and slipped it behind the spare tyre. The other two, I left in the backpack. After closing the boot, I walked back to the lockers with the backpack and my new padlock. I selected an empty locker, stuffed the backpack inside, and secured it with the padlock.

Having lightened my load a bit by putting Shaw's money in a reasonably secure place, I got back in the car. I continued the drive to Shaw's house which was a bit further up the coast. I'd just gone a couple of blocks on Kalaheo Avenue when I heard a short siren blast. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw flashing blue lights. Are you kidding me? Bloody hell. I activated the turn signal, pulled to the side of the road and stopped. The police car stopped behind my car. After several moments, an HPD officer got out and walked to my window.

"Is there a problem, officer?" I said. "I didn't think I was speeding."

"License and registration, please," the cop said. The HPD cop was all business and didn't strike me as Officer Friendly.

"Right, that's a bit of a problem," I said. "I just left a beach gear rental shop back there. While I was at the beach snorkeling, someone broke into my locker and took my bag with my ID and credit cards."

"I see," the officer said. "Please exit the vehicle please."

"Is this really necessary, officer?" I said. "I'm in a bit of hurry to get back to the hotel to ring my credit card issuers."

The cop took a couple of steps back from the window, placing his hand on the butt of his holstered pistol. Get out of the car, now," he said.

"All right, sure," I said. I opened the door and got out.

"Step to the hood of your vehicle," the cop said. I did so.

"Put your hands on the hood, and step back." Again, I did as asked.

"Spread your feet apart," the cop said. I complied. He looked fit, but I was confident I could take him. On the other hand, I was already in enough trouble. No point to adding assault of a law enforcement officer and resisting arrest to the tally.

The cop pulled my left arm behind my back and snapped a handcuff on my wrist. He repeated the process with my right arm and had handcuffed me with my hands behind my back.

"You're under arrest," the cop said. "Walk to my car." With a firm grip on my upper left arm, he steered me to the back door of his car. He opened it. "Have a seat," he said.

I turned sideways, aimed my arse at the backseat, and sat. The cop put his hand on my head and guided me inside. He pulled down the seatbelt from the seat back, crossed it over my lap and chest, and snapped it into place. He then stood up and closed the car door. The jig was up, and I was in custody.

The cop got into the front seat and spoke on the car radio. We sat there for several minutes in silence and then another HPD officer appeared.

"Can you do the impound while I transport?" the first cop said.

"Sure, no problem," the second cop said.

The first cop put the car in gear, made a u-turn and drove back towards Kailua. A few minutes later he drove into a carpark. There was a sign out front of the building that read "Honolulu Police Kailua Substation." The cop opened the rear door and helped me out of the backseat. He escorted me into the building and locked me in a holding cell still wearing the handcuffs. Then he walked over to a desk, sat down, and started typing on a computer.

The cop hadn't explained why he had arrested me. I assumed that he figured I already knew the reason. I sat quietly on a hard concrete bench in the holding cell while the cop typed on the computer keyboard. After about 15 minutes or so, the door opened, and a man and a woman in plain clothes walked in from outside. The uniformed cop looked up from the computer.

"What's up, guys?" he said to the two that had entered the room.

"Hey, Nakamura," the man in the suit said. "Where did you find her?"

"North on Kalaheo, right before Kalama Beach Park," the uniformed officer said. "The car looked right, and when I ran the tag, I got the hit."

"Good catch," the other guy said. "She give you any problems?"

"No," the uniformed cop said. "She gave me a line about not having any ID claiming someone stole her bag. But Wong just sent me a message a few minutes ago. He found her bag with her ID in it while he was doing the inventory for the impound. He also found a semi-auto in the trunk behind the spare."

It seemed the cops had obtained my credit card details and found out about the rental car. I'd kept it too long.

"Cool," the guy in the suit said. He and the female walked over to the holding cell. The guy spoke first.

"Hello Ms. O'Sullivan," he said. "I'm Detective Young of the Honolulu Police Department, and this is Detective Oshiro."

"How's it going," I said.

"As I'm sure you already know, you're a suspect in the murder of Douglas Shaw," Young said. "We also want to speak to you about the murder of a man named Jimmy Kamaka."

"I didn't kill Shaw or Kamaka," I said. "I haven't killed anyone in quite some time, actually."

"Well, we want to hear your story of course," Young said. "But, not here. We're going to transport you back to Honolulu to the station downtown. We'll talk there. Once we arrive, I will read you your Miranda rights, and you will have the option of obtaining an attorney. But, if you are innocent as you claim, we hope you will answer our questions and help us clear this all up."

"Sure," I said. "Happy to help in any way I can."

"Good to hear," Young said.

Nakamura, the officer who had arrested me, unlocked the cell and told me to step out. The female detective patted me down and then removed the handcuffs I had on. She handed them to Nakamura and then produced another pair and handcuffed me again.

"See you around, Nakamura," Oshiro said.

"Yeah, see you guys," Nakamura said.

Young and Oshiro walked me out to their blue sedan and put me in the back seat. Oshiro opened the rear door on the other side and got in the backseat beside me. I reckoned that was because the car didn't have a cage between the front and rear seats like the patrol car I'd been transported to jail in. Young put the car in gear, and we headed back towards Honolulu. Young and Oshiro made small talk on the way, but neither seemed interested in chatting with me.

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# Chapter 14

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YOUNG SWUNG THE CAR into a covered garage at HPD Headquarters on Beretania Street and parked. Young and Oshiro put me in a lift and took me upstairs to an interview room. After putting me in a chair at a table, Young removed the handcuffs.

"Want some water or anything?" Young said.

"Some water would be awesome," I said.

"Okay, be right back," Young said, and he walked out of the room.

"Anyone who knew anything about Douglas Shaw at all knew he was a sexual predator," Oshiro said. "Considering how Shaw was dressed when found in your hotel room, I can imagine he tried to assault you. You tried to fight him off, but he was a big, strong guy. So you grabbed the bottle and hit him to make him stop. You never intended to kill him. Isn't that what happened?"

"You got the predator part right I reckon," I said. "But, I wasn't in the room when Shaw was killed. I can't tell you anything about that."

"Come on O'Sullivan," Oshiro said. "You're only making things worse by lying. We have you on CCTV running out of the hotel minutes before HPD officers found Shaw's body. I want to help you, but you have to give me something. Something like the truth about what happened."

"I'm not lying," I said. "I was at the hotel. I'd just arrived there when I found Shaw. I have no idea what he was doing there. But, yeah, he had been hitting on me. Given Shaw had on nothing but a hotel bathrobe it's quite clear what he must have had in mind for when I returned. But he had already carked it before I arrived."

"If that's true, why did you run?" Oshiro said. "Why didn't you call 911?"

"It was obvious I was being framed for Shaw's murder," I said. "I needed to find out who killed Shaw and was trying to frame me to clear myself. Shaw was already dead. I checked. Calling 911 wasn't going to help him. If I'd called 911 or waited there for the police, I'd have ended up right here where I'm at now. And, this is not helping me find out who framed me."

"Again, if that's true, it's our job to investigate Shaw's murder. You had no business trying to get involved in a criminal investigation. You've only made yourself look guilty, or more guilty."

Young walked back into the room and set a bottle of water on the table in front of me. Young looked at Oshiro. She shook her head side to side. "Go grab a cup of coffee, Oshiro," he said. She took a long stare at me and then walked out of the room. Young sat down at the table across from me. I sipped some water.

"Oshiro wanted to help me," I said. "I reckon she was doing the good cop bit, so you must be the bad cop. You plan to beat a confession out of me?"

Young smirked. "What was your relationship with Douglas Shaw?" Young said.

"He was a client," I said. "I'm a private investigator."

"Yes, I know. From Los Angeles. What kind of case were you working for Shaw?"

"Missing person, I was here trying to help him find his daughter," I said.

"Why would Shaw hire a PI from LA to come all the way to Honolulu? There are plenty of private investigators right here on the island."

"My colleague in LA, Ben Malone has done work for Shaw in the past. He wanted Malone to come to Honolulu for the case, but Malone already had a case he was working in LA. So, he sent me."

"So, what's the story on Shaw's daughter?"

"She left without telling anyone where she was going. Then she didn't come home. That wasn't unusual. She did that quite often. But this time was different. She stayed away much longer than ever before. Shaw and his wife became worried, so Shaw called Malone."

"Voluntary absence?" Young said.

"As far as anyone knew. As you know, private investigators aren't permitted to investigate crimes like kidnapping."

Young nodded. "Had Shaw reported his daughter as missing to us?"

"No, that's the first question I asked. Shaw didn't seem keen to involve the police. Maybe he was afraid the media would get onto it, and he would have found it embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?"

"Yep, you know, unable to control his own daughter, that bit."

"Okay, let's talk about Jimmy Kamaka. How did you know him?"

"I developed information that Jimmy Kamaka had knowledge of Allison Shaw's whereabouts. I found him and persuaded him to cooperate by taking me to Allison's location," I said.

"And how did you manage that?" Young said. "Jimmy Kamaka was known for a lot of things. Cooperation wasn't one of them."

"Can't tell you that, Detective Young. A girl never tells all her secrets."

"Okay, so he took you to Allison's location? What happened then?"

"Never saw Allison, so I'm not sure it was the proper location. But, he took me to some kind of military installation on the east side of the island."

"Where?" Young said.

"Not sure, Kamaka drove, and I'd never been there before. But, I assume the same place you found Kamaka's body. A place with an overgrown airstrip, a brick building, and a small air traffic control tower."

"Okay, that's the place," Young said. "What happened when you got there?"

"We had parked the car on the entry road. We walked through some trees to the building where the tower is. When we came out of the trees and started toward the building, someone started firing at us. I took cover behind a tree. I looked back, and Kamaka was on his back with a bullet wound to the head. I checked, and he was dead."

"Then what happened?" Young said.

"I heard an engine revving and tyres squealing and saw a sports utility tearing out of the carpark. I ran back through the trees to Kamaka's car, but the sports utility had already gone past before I got there. I tried to follow, but I lost it. Too much of a head start."

"Why didn't you call 911 and report the shooting?"

"No point to it," I said. "Kamaka was dead and beyond help. I didn't see who shot him. I didn't even get a license plate number from the sports utility. I didn't have any information to give the police."

"Then what did you do?" Young said.

"I went back to the military facility. It wasn't locked up. I searched the building and tower, but there was no sign of Allison Shaw."

"She in the SUV?"

"Don't know. I told you I didn't see who was in the sports utility."

"You know O'Sullivan, this is starting to sound a lot like a kidnapping," Young said. I didn't say anything to that.

"Where did you go after you lost the SUV and searched the building at the airstrip?"

"I drove back to my hotel. I needed to call Shaw and report in," I said. "When I got to the room, I found Shaw dead on the floor."

Oshiro walked back into the interview room. Young looked up. "The ADA is next door," Oshiro said. Young nodded and looked back at me.

"You found Shaw, saw that he was dead, and decided to split," Young said.

"Yep, like I said, I knew how it would look to the police, and I wanted the chance to find out who was trying to frame me."

"Why would someone want to frame you for the murder?"

"I reckon to deflect attention from whoever did kill Shaw," I said.

"I have to tell you, O'Sullivan," Young said, "I'm finding it hard to believe you're telling us the whole story. I'd be willing to bet you're holding something back."

"I've told you what I know," I said. "I wasn't there when Shaw died. I know I didn't kill him, but I can't very well tell you who did. I don't know. I wasn't there."

Young leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

"I still like my theory," Oshiro said.

"What theory?" I said.

"Shaw came to your room wanting sex. You weren't into it. He tried to force you. You managed to grab the wine bottle and hit him a little harder than you intended. You didn't mean to kill him. It was an accident. Why don't you help yourself out, and tell us the truth."

I dropped my eyes to the table top and sighed loudly. Then I raised my head and looked Oshiro right in the eyes.

"Ahkay, I haven't always been a private investigator. I was once the same as you, a police detective. I know a fishing expedition when I see one. You have nothing, nothing but some circumstantial evidence. That's not enough to make a murder charge stick."

"Is that so?" Oshiro said.

"Yes, it's so. I'm sure you have a time of death from the coroner by now. I'm sure it doesn't track with the time stamp on the CCTV video of me arriving and leaving the hotel. Shaw was already dead when I arrived back at my room. I checked for a pulse, and he was already cold. He'd been dead for a while. I know my prints aren't on the bottle used to bash him. The bottle wasn't in the room when I left that morning, and I didn't touch it when I saw it on the floor."

"Maybe we don't have enough to charge you with the murder of Douglas Shaw," Young said, "but how about Kamaka? You've admitted you were there when he was killed."

"Big difference between being there when he was killed and killing him," I said. "And to be fair, you have nothing there either. It's obvious you don't have the murder weapon. I wasn't even armed when the cop arrested me. I expect the only way you connected me to Kamaka was another CCTV video. I'm guessing a video recording from when I left his car in the carpark after I arrived back in Waikiki. More circumstantial evidence."

"HPD has recovered a semi-automatic pistol from the trunk of your rental car," Young said. "It was concealed behind the spare tire."

"Bloody hell, it was a hire car," I said. "It wasn't my gun. I didn't even know it was there. Anyone could have left it there."

"That's an easy claim to make," Oshiro said. "It wasn't mine, officer. We hear that all the time."

"My prints aren't on that weapon," I said, "besides I picked up the hire car after leaving the hotel room after I found Shaw. That makes it obvious it wasn't the weapon used to shoot Kamaka. You've got nothing. The gun is more circumstantial evidence that's not even linked to any crime that you can accuse me of."

Oshiro crossed her arms, slumped against the wall, and glared at me. I looked at Young.

"Let's cut to the chase, ahkay," I said. "I've been in the States a long while. I understand the laws here aren't a great deal different here from those of New Zealand where I was a cop. It takes real evidence to lay a charge of murder. You have none in this case. I've cooperated, I've answered your questions, but I'm tired now. So, time to put up or shut up, Detective Young. Charge me, or I'm leaving after you return my property and my car of course."

"We can still hold you as a material witness in the murder of Jimmy Kamaka," Young said.

"That doesn't mean I must be locked up," I said. "I'm on an island for fuck's sake. It's not like I can hop on a plane and leave Honolulu."

Young stood up and looked at Oshiro who shrugged. "I'm going to have a word with the ADA," Young said to Oshiro. He walked out of the room closing the door a bit harder than necessary. Oshiro didn't say anything more. I reckoned she had given up trying to help me talk my way into a jail cell. Young came back in the room after only a few minutes. He placed his hands on the back of the chair he had sat in earlier and leaned across the desk towards me.

"Answer one more question," Young said.

"What?"

"You said you left the hotel room as soon as you discovered Shaw was dead. You said you ran because you figured someone was trying to frame you. Besides claiming that you didn't kill him, what made you believe someone was trying to frame you."

"No harm in telling you that," I said. "A least since I met him, Shaw never drove himself. He had a driver named Ken, don't know his last name, who chauffeured him in a black limo. The limo was in the drive at the hotel when I returned that afternoon. Ken was standing outside leaning on a fender having a smoko. He stared at me until I walked into the lobby. I wasn't inside the hotel for more than a few minutes, just long enough to take the lift up to my room and find Shaw. When I walked back outside, Ken and the limo were gone, and the police were already arriving."

"Proving what?" Young said. "You saying this Ken must have murdered his boss?"

"Seems a bit sus that he drove away leaving his boss without transportation unless he knew Shaw was dead, eh?" I said. "I'd also wager that HPD received an anonymous call about the time I arrived at my hotel that afternoon. I'll bet a call that reported some kind of disturbance inside my room at the hotel. If I'm correct, no doubt Ken made the call so I'd be found in the room with Shaw's body. Maybe you guys should look up Ken and have a chat."

Young straightened up and ran a hand through his hair again. I reckoned it must be a habit he had.

"Okay," Young said, "you're free to go for now. But you're not free to leave town. And, when we want to talk with you again which we will we better not have to hunt you down. If we do, I give you my word we will lock you up."

"What about my personals?" I said. "My bag, my cash, credit cards, and my clothing was all in the car."

"The arresting officer brought your property here," Young said. "I'll escort you downstairs to sign for it. But we're going to hold on to the firearm recovered from your rental car."

"Fine," I said. "Told you, it's not mine. But, speaking of the car, I want it back."

"The property clerk will you give you the address where it was towed. You'll have to pay the impound fee to claim it."

"Aww, stink one," I said. "Why should I have to pay to get the car back when I'm not being charged with anything?"

"That's on you," Young said. "You should have come to us to start with instead of making us find you. Come on, let's go downstairs."

I followed him out of the room. Oshiro walked out behind us but kept going down the hallway when Young and I stopped at the lift. Guess she didn't fancy good-byes.

Downstairs in the property room, my beach bag, and other belongings were returned. That included my ID, credit cards, and the cash left from the packet of Shaw's money I'd been using. I signed for the property, and Young escorted me to the front doors of the police station. He pushed open the door and held it for me. After I'd walked through the door, he said, "Don't forget."

"Yep, I know," I said, "don't leave town."

"Where will you be staying?" Young said.

"I'm still registered at the Sheraton on Kalakaua Avenue," I said. "I'm going back there, except I'm going to ask for a different room."

Young nodded. "See you soon," he said. Then he turned and walked back inside, and the door closed behind him.

After waiting on the sidewalk in front of HPD headquarters for about 10 minutes, I flagged a passing taxi. I gave the driver the address the property clerk had given me for the auto impound. He was wearing a bright colored Aloha shirt. The driver dropped the flag, and away we went.

I didn't know why I hadn't told Young and Oshiro that I'd seen Allison Shaw fire the gun used to kill Kamaka. I guess I wanted to talk to her and her mum first. It still might provide some leverage to get the information I wanted. Another part of me wanted to give Allison the benefit of the doubt. While it seemed the entire kidnapping affair was a bit sus, it was possible I was misinterpreting it. Maybe Allison had just been a frightened young woman trying to escape her captors. Yeah, nah, I didn't believe that was what I'd seen when Kamaka got shot. But, I was certain it had been an accident of sorts. Allison had been shooting at Adam, the helicopter pilot. Kamaka had just been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. That didn't mean Allison wasn't responsible for his death. But there was a good bit of difference between negligent homicide and murder. I intended to get Allison's story before the cops got mine.

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# Chapter 15

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IT WAS AFTER EIGHT when I woke up. By the time I'd retrieved the car the previous evening, feeling shattered I had come straight back to the hotel. When I spoke to the clerk at the front desk, I'd learned the hotel had canceled my original reservation. Shaw had organized the room for me and guaranteed payment. With Shaw dead, the hotel manager had feared payment might not be forthcoming. I had to agree to accept responsibility for paying for the entire stay and to present my credit card. The clerk then booked me into a new room.

After showering but before bed, I'd switched on my mobile and the disposable one I'd purchased. The police had switched them off after taking them when they had arrested me. I had three voice mail messages from Malone on each phone. I decided I better call him before he caught a plane for Honolulu. I rang up his mobile but got his voice mail. I left a message telling him I was all good and had sorted things with the Honolulu police for the time being. After promising to call back later, I'd hung up. Then I'd gone to bed and had fallen asleep straight away.

I had some breakfast and coffee in one of the hotel restaurants then I drove back to the place where I'd hired the car. I wasn't a car person, actually. I quite liked motorbikes. I decided to return the car and to hire a motorbike from a place I'd driven past a few days before. I dropped off the hire car then walked the three blocks to the motorbike place. I chose a carbon gray Kawasaki Ninja H2. The motorbike came with a helmet, so I was all set. Too bad I hadn't been on the Ninja yesterday instead of driving a car. I'd never have stopped for that cop, and he'd never had caught me either.

Merging onto the motorway, I again headed for Shaw's house and my delayed meeting with his wife and daughter. This time I made it through Kailua without incident. I still hadn't come up with a story to get past the gate guard when I arrived at the gate to find there wasn't a guard. The gate was standing open. I continued through it to the house. I slowed after turning the last corner of the access road and stopped when I could see the house. There was no sign of the guard from before out front, and there were no vehicles about. There was no activity around the outbuilding either. I assumed it was where Shaw housed his security force. Strange. It was if there was no one here at all. I put the motorbike in gear and continued to the house, stopping in the driveway out front. I climbed off and removed the helmet. Leaving it on the seat of the bike I followed the side of the house to the back. I found an unlocked patio door. I opened it, stepped inside, and closed the door. I could hear voices from another part of the house and went looking for the people I heard speaking.

Outside the room, where I'd first met Douglas Shaw the voices were more distinct. There was no doubt that the people speaking were in the room behind the closed door. I twisted the knob and eased the door open so that I could peer around it into the room. Shaw's wife and daughter sat together on the couch. A man was standing in front of them with his back to me. It was clear that the man had frightened the women. The door hinges squeaked when I opened the door a bit wider. Allison looked in my direction, and we made eye contact, tipping off the guy I was there. He spun around pointing a gun at me.

"Come on in if you don't want to get shot," the guy said.

For an instant, I thought about slamming the door and making a run for it. But, out of concern for what might happen to the women I didn't. I opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Adam, you rat bastard," I said, "are you still lurking about?"

"Well, if it isn't psycho bitch," Adam said. He motioned towards the couch with the pistol. "Come in and have a seat on the couch with the other ladies."

I started across the room. "And don't try anything," Adam said. "You won't get the chance to sucker punch me again."

"Sucker punch?" I said. "I seem to recall it was a kick in the nuts, not a sucker punch."

"Yeah, whatever," Adam said, "sit down."

Allison scooted toward her mum. I sat down beside her.

"Where is the money?" Adam said to me.

"In a safe place," I said.

"Where?"

"Can't tell you that," I said.

"You will tell me, or I'll shoot you."

"Brilliant idea," I said. "Then you will never find the money."

Adam pointed the gun at Allison.

"No, please," Allison said.

"Then I'll shoot Allison if you don't tell me where the money is."

"I can't tell you because I'm not familiar enough with the area to tell you where to find the money. You don't need to hurt anyone. I can take you to the money."

"You will not take him to the money," Kathleen Shaw said. "It's ours." Glaring at Adam, she continued. "We agreed to pay you ten thousand dollars for your services."

"That was before your daughter reneged on our agreement. She tried to kill me and take off without paying me," Adam said.

"You're the one who broke the agreement," Allison said. "You demanded half of the money after Jimmy brought it."

"I deserved half for taking the risks I did," Adam said. "Now after all the trouble I've been through because of you three, I'm taking it all."

"I'll go to the police," Kathleen said.

"And tell them what? That you and your daughter cooked up a fake kidnapping scheme to extort money from your own husband. And you want to complain because one of your co-conspirators kept the ransom money? I doubt the police will be very sympathetic, Ms. Shaw."

I'd been right all along. There had never been any kidnapping. It had all been a sham.

"It isn't like you were ever going to get the money back anyway," Adam said. He pointed the gun at me. "I figure little miss private eye here killed your husband so she could keep the money herself."

"That's not true," I said. "And, I didn't kill Douglas Shaw."

"The police said you did," Adam said. "It was on the news. In fact, it was on the news they arrested you. That's why I came here. What are you even doing here? Why aren't you in jail?"

"The police picked me up and had me in for questioning," I said. "I didn't kill Shaw. They hadn't any evidence to charge me and had to let me go."

Adam smiled and looked at the other two women. "Well, if she is telling the truth, I'd like to know who did kill Douglas Shaw."

Neither Kathleen nor Allison met his stare.

"Never mind that," Adam said. "I couldn't care less who killed him. I only want my money." Adam looked at me. "Go find something to tie these two up with. I'm not taking all three of you to get the money. We'll leave these two here."

I got up from the couch.

"And don't try anything," Adam said. "You do anything besides what I've told you to do, or you don't come back, and I'll kill them both, and it will be on you."

"Ahkay, no worries. I'll see what I can find, and I'll come right back."

I walked to the doorway and started through it.

"And leave the door open," Adam said.

I did so and walked down the hallway until I found the kitchen. I looked through the cupboards and drawers until I found a roll of silver duct tape. I walked back to the room where Adam was holding Kathleen and Allison.

"Found this," I said, holding up the tape.

"Yeah, that will work," Adam said. "Tape their wrists together behind their backs and then tape their ankles together."

I went to Kathleen first. She stood up and turned her back to me, arms behind her back and wrists together. I wrapped several turns of tape around her wrists, careful not to make it too tight. When I had finished, she sat back down. I knelt at her feet and did the same to her ankles. I moved over to Allison and repeated the process. I looked at Adam. "Satisfied?" I said.

"Now tape their ankles together," Adam said. "I don't want them feeling tempted to get up and hop around looking for something to cut the tape off with while we're gone."

I knelt again and wrapped several turns of tape around the ankles of both Kathleen and Allison. The result left them bound together. When I'd finished Adam said, "Now put a strip of tape over their mouths."

"But there is no one about to hear them," I said.

"Never mind, do as I told you."

I tore two strips of tape off the roll and placed one over the mouth of each woman.

Adam looked at Kathleen and Allison. "Listen up," he said. "You two sit here and be quiet while we are gone. Once I get the money, I'll let O'Sullivan go. She can come back and turn you loose." The women nodded.

"How far is it to where you stashed the money?" Adam said to me.

"About a 15-minute drive," I said.

"Okay, let's go then," Adam said, motioning towards the doorway with the muzzle of the pistol.

I walked through the door in the direction of the patio door I had come in earlier with Adam following. He was far more careful after what had happened in Haleiwa. It wasn't going to be easy to jump him a second time.

Once outside, he told me to walk to the outbuilding. When we got to the building, he told me to keep walking until we arrived at the back of the building. There was a white sedan parked behind the building that had been shielded from view. That was why I hadn't seen a car when I had arrived earlier.

"You're driving," Adam said, tossing me a car keys. "Get in."

I got in behind the wheel. Adam got in the front passenger seat, keeping his pistol pointed at me. "Let's go," he said.

I started the car, put it in gear, and headed for the driveway. We passed the house and continued down the long drive to the road. I turned onto the road and started towards Kailua.

"I'd be within rights to give you a little payback for Haleiwa," Adam said. "But, I don't want to hurt you. I only want my money. Let's go get it without any drama, and you'll live to see the end of the day. It's not your money anyway, so this shouldn't be a problem for you."

"Ahkay," I said. "I'm cool with it." I went out of my way to appear resigned and cooperative. Inside I was racking my brain trying to think of a way to turn the tables on Adam again. No way was I going to hand over the money to him. I thought about crashing the car, but he might have a split second to shoot me, or we could both die in a crash. I kept driving and trying to think of a better plan. Neither of us spoke. After about ten minutes we arrived on the outskirts of Kailua. That's when a plan dropped right into my lap. We were approaching an intersection and a few meters from it, the traffic light went yellow. There was a police cruiser at the intersection waiting for a green light to cross the road in front of us. I accelerated, and our car entered the intersection a second or two after our traffic light went red. Adam had been watching the light and hadn't noticed the police car until the last second. The police car had started ahead, and the cop had to brake to avoid colliding with us. The cop swung in behind us and immediately activated his emergency lights.

"You stupid, stupid girl," Adam said. "This isn't going to help you."

The cop hit the siren, and I pulled the car to the side of the road. "Take the ticket and keep your mouth shut," Adam said. "Say anything, and you might get me arrested, but you won't be alive to see it."

The police car stopped behind us. I watched the outside rear view mirror. After a few moments, the cop got out of his car and approached my window. Adam concealed the gun at his right side next to the car door.

"Good afternoon," the cop said, "license and registration please."

I looked up at him and saw the dawn of recognition on his face. He was the same cop that had arrested me the day before. "It's you again," the cop said. "We have to stop meeting like this Ms. O'Sullivan."

"Ah, right," I said. "And, wouldn't you know officer I haven't got my license on me, again."

"Are you supposed to be back on the street?" the cop said.

"Yes," I said. "I had a chat with the lovely detectives in Honolulu. We got things sorted, and they let me go. I'm only required to stay in town until they've finished their investigation."

"I see," the cop said. "But, please understand I'm going to have to check that out. Who is that with you?"

"Adam," I said. "Adam is a friend. We were chatting about where to stop and eat, and I didn't notice the traffic light until it was too late."

"Uh, huh," the cop said. "Turn off the ignition and hand me the keys please."

I switched off the car, pulled the key out of the ignition, and passed it out the window to the cop. He dropped the keys on the top of the car and then took a step back. "I need you both to exit the vehicle," the cop said.

"Officer is this necessary," Adam said. "I can vouch for her. I picked her up at the police station when they released her."

"Yes, sir, it is necessary," the cop said. "Now both of you, get out of the vehicle."

"Happy to," I said. I opened the door and hopped out. Adam opened his door and did a runner. The cop shouted at him to stop, but Adam was hitting his stride. The cop ran after him in hot pursuit. I walked back to the police car. I reached through the window, turned off the ignition, and pulled the key out. I turned and threw the keys as far as I could across the road into the grass. I walked back to Adam's car, grabbed the keys off the top of the car, and got back behind the wheel. I started the car, did a turnabout, and drove back in the direction we had come from. Regardless of what happened to Adam, I knew one thing. Soon the cop would give a description of the car and registration details over his radio to his mates. I had to get back to Shaw's place quick smart before that happened and another cop spotted me.

I made it back to Shaw's without any further drama. I stopped Adam's car out front of the house and left it there. There was still no one about which was great. I intended to get some answers from the Shaw women at last. I tried the front door and finding it unlocked. I let myself in and walked back to the room where I last saw Kathleen and Allison. When I opened the door, things seemed as they had been when I had left with Adam. Both women were still sitting on the couch, bound together. I walked over and pulled the tape off their mouths, but left them bound. I sat down in a chair across from the couch.

"What are you doing?" Kathleen said. "Turn us loose."

"In due time," I said. "We're going to have a chat first about why someone tried to frame me for killing your husband."

It was then that I felt what I reckoned was the muzzle of a pistol pressed against the base of my skull. A familiar deep, masculine voice said, "They aren't telling you anything."

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# Chapter 16

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THE MAN STEPPED INTO view from behind me. It was as expected, Ken, the driver. I'd recognized the voice. I was looking at the business end of a very large, shiny nickel-plated revolver.

"Have to admit I'm impressed," Ken said. "I figured the cops would keep you locked up at least until there was a hearing. After all, you went on the run, and they had to hunt you down. You must be a mouthier broad than I even gave you credit for to talk your way out of it."

"The police had no evidence I was involved," I said. "They had to let me go."

"Watch her," Ken said to Kathleen. "Tell me if she so much as bats an eyelash. I'm going to cut you loose."

Ken walked over to the couch with the pistol still trained on me. Kathleen leaned forward. Ken pulled a folding knife from his pocket. He opened and cut the tape binding Kathleen's wrists. Then he handed her the knife. Kathleen rubbed her wrists for a moment to restore the circulation. She cut the tape off her ankles, then she freed Allison.

"You would have been better off in jail," Ken said.

"Where is the money?" Kathleen said. "Did you give it to Adam?"

"It's not like I had a choice, Kathleen," I said. "He had a gun. Of course, I did."

"How did you get back here?" Kathleen said.

"His car, the one we left in," I said. "It's a hire car. He called someone on the way, and they picked him up in Kailua after we retrieved the money. He told me I could take the car to get back here."

"Damn it," Kathleen said. "We needed that money."

"Forget it," Ken said. "Once the courts settle Douglas' estate you'll have plenty of money."

"That's the problem, Ken," Kathleen said. "Money is going to be very tight until that happens."

"Okay, okay, one problem at a time," Ken said. "Once we take care of the problem at hand, I'll find Adam and get the money back."

"What are we going to do with her?" Allison said, pointing her finger at me.

"You know what we have to do," Ken said. "You said Adam exposed the kidnapping thing. She already knows too much. We can't have her talking to the cops."

"I can hear everything you're saying," I said. "Stop chatting about me as if I'm not here."

"Shut your hole," Ken said, "before I shut it for you. You've caused enough trouble. If you were in jail where you belong there wouldn't be a problem. If the cops weren't so stupid and hadn't released you, we'd have been long gone by the time there was a hearing."

"Do we need another body, Ken?" Kathleen said. "This is starting to freak me out."

"Mother, Ken is right," Allison said. "You want to spend the rest of your life in jail? I sure don't. We've come too far to go back now."

"I suppose you're right, dear."

"Allison get the duct tape, and tie her up," Ken said.

Allison retrieved the roll of duct tape from the desk where I'd left it earlier. She returned with it to the chair where I was sitting." Get up and turn your back to me," she said.

I stood up and turned away from her. She grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind my back. I flexed my wrists when I felt her start making the wraps of tape around my wrists. I hoped there would be at least a tiny bit of slack once she finished and I relaxed them.

"Sit back down," Ken said. I sat.

"Ankles too?" Allison said.

"No, she will need to walk," Ken said.

Allison walked over to the couch and sat down beside her mother.

"I'll clean this up," Ken said. "Shouldn't take more than an hour or so. While I'm gone, you two start packing. We need to leave as soon as I get back. We'll find a place near the airport where you'll be safe. Then I'll go find Adam and get the money from him."

Kathleen stood up and walked over to Ken. She embraced him. "Please, be careful darling and get back as soon as you can." It was clear Ken was a bit more to Kathleen than only the family chauffeur.

"I will," Ken said, watching me over Kathleen's shoulder.

"What if Adam comes back?" Allison said.

"Why would he?" Ken said. "He got what he wanted."

"He could come back for the rental car," Allison said.

"You worry too much," Ken said. "If Adam concerned himself with the rental car, he wouldn't have let O'Sullivan drive it here. I fear that Adam is already at the airport waiting for a flight to who knows where."

"He needn't be in any rush," Kathleen said. "Adam doesn't know about you and me. He asked where the staff was when he arrived. I told him we had to let everyone go after the death of Douglas because we didn't have the money to pay them."

"I hope you're right," Ken said. "Otherwise you can kiss that money goodbye."

Turning to me, Ken said, "All right, get up and let's go."

I stood up. Ken grabbed me by the upper arm and guided me out of the room and down the hallway to the front door. We stepped outside, and he closed the door behind us. We walked down the steps to the garage door. He pushed a button on a key fob, and the door opened. There was the limo, parked beside a dark-colored Chrysler 300. Ken pushed me toward the back of the Chrysler. He opened the boot. "Get in," he said.

"I'm not," I said. "I have a condition, I can't deal with confined spaces. Let me ride in the back."

"And I have a gun," Ken said, brandishing it. "Now get in."

"I won't," I said.

I only picked up a blur out of my peripheral vision when Ken swung the gun. I only felt the pain for an instant when the steel connected with my left temple. Then everything went black."

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# Chapter 17

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SNEEZING, BROUGHT ON by the dust in the air inside the compact space I found myself in, was what brought me around. I was still a bit muddled, trying to figure out where I was and how I got there. Besides having a sore head, I felt dizzy, and a bit nauseous. I reached up and felt the left side of my throbbing head and my fingers came away wet and sticky. That's when it all came flooding back. I remembered Ken bashing me in the head with his gun when I refused to get in the boot of the car. Yep, the boot. That's where I was. The bouncing and bumping along on what must be a rough, rutted road wasn't helping with the nausea. I wasn't claustrophobic, actually. I'd only tried to talk Ken out of making me get in the boot. I knew it would limit my escape options if I were stuck in the boot of the car.

I twisted and worked on the duct tape trying to get enough slack so that I could pick at the tape to try and free my wrists. No good. I couldn't quite touch the edge of the tape with my thumb and index finger. Something was digging into my back. I scooted away and rolled over. I ran my hands over it and discovered it was a long-handled spade. I didn't need three guesses to figure out what Ken had brought along a spade for.

At first, I thought it could be used as a weapon. But I discounted the idea realizing it was too long and I'd never manage to swing it fast enough to catch Ken by surprise. I needed something to use as a club, but the spade wouldn't do. Then I thought of the tyre repair thing, the iron used to remove the lug nuts when changing a flat tyre. After feeling around, I didn't find a spare or any tools. It must be in a compartment below me. Running my fingers along the bottom of the compartment, I found the edge of a cover.

It wasn't easy with my wrists bound. But by contorting my body this way and that and heaving at the edges, I managed after a while to raise the cover. I found the spare. Secured somehow on top of the tyre were the tools.

My fingers found a large wing nut, and I unscrewed it. The tools came loose. I separated the tyre iron from the jack. Putting it aside for the moment, I resumed my contortions until I managed to get the cover closed once again. Exhausted, I lay on my back sweating and gulping breaths. The car continued bouncing along, the air still filled with dust.

After what seemed a long while the car came to a stop. With haste, I organized my plan. It wasn't a great plan, but with a bit of luck, it might work I thought. I pushed the iron up against the front edge of the compartment, hoping it wouldn't be visible when he opened the boot. I heard steps. I heard the click of the lock, and then all I saw was blinding bright sunlight when the boot lid raised up.

"Get out," Ken said. I struggled to focus on him with my pupils dilated from the previous blackness I'd been in. "Get out," he said again.

Ken had the gun out but was holding it down at his side. I reckoned he believed he had taken the fight out of me by bashing me in the head. I struggled to throw my legs out and over the lip of the boot. Then I scooted backward on my stomach until my toes touched the ground. Putting my palms on the bottom of the compartment I pushed myself into a standing position, to the left of Ken.

"Get the shovel out of the trunk," Ken said.

"Going to make me dig my own grave, Ken?" I said. "That it?"

"Shut up and get the shovel like I told you," Ken said.

I bent over, reaching into the boot as if to retrieve the spade, watching Ken out of the corners of my eyes. I expected him to take a step back when I went for the spade. Instead, he took a half step closer. He must have known what I'd already worked out. Given its length, it would take too long for me to wind up and swing the shovel with enough force to do him any real harm. He must have thought by getting closer, if I tried swinging the spade, he'd only need to bear hug me and take it away. I reached in. It wasn't the spade I came out with though, but the tyre iron. It was compact, only a little more than a half meter in length, which allowed for a tight swing arc. But it was solid steel, and heavier than the spade. The acceleration of velocity would occur much faster when swung. Once I had a grip on the iron, I started to straighten and rotate my feet from right to left. That required me to turn my back to Ken for a split second, but that was okay. Action always beats reaction. The human brain must first interpret what the eyes see before reacting to it. By the time I came back around and Ken was again in my view, I was three-quarters of the way through the swing arc. The leading edge of the iron approached the greatest velocity.

Ken's eyes were open wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. He realized what was happening, but too late. He was in desperation mode playing catch up. Forced to make a split-second decision, his brain told him to rely on the gun rather than moving to try to avoid the blow. But action always beats reaction, every single time. Ken was way behind and didn't even come close to getting the gun in position to shoot in time.

It all seemed so surreal as if everything was moving in slow motion like we were in a vacuum. I didn't hear a sound until the steel connected with flesh. I was holding the straight end of the iron. The straight part at the opposite end struck Ken's jawline and the crooked part of it, the left side of his head. I heard the thump of metal meeting meat and the sound of breaking bone. A pink burst of spray hung in the air after the blood sprayed from Ken's mouth. He went down hard, losing his grip on the pistol in the process. It went skittering into the red dirt.

Enraged, my adrenaline was pumping. I'd already raised the iron and started coming down to finish Ken with a second blow before I regained control. I stopped myself. He was down, and it was clear he was unconscious. Another blow now and self-defense would become murder. I stumbled backward, and my arse came to rest on the rear bumper of the car. I sat for a moment struggling to regain control of my emotions. I looked around.

Ken had stopped the car on a rutted red dirt road that ran between thick, head-high cane fields on either side. It looked like a perfect place to bury a body. No one would find a grave here for a long while, if ever. I still had the iron in my hand. I had decided to not to kill Ken, assuming I hadn't already. But I had to neutralize him. I had to leave him here but had nothing to tie him up with. I didn't want to leave myself in the position of looking over my shoulder, watching for him to appear again somewhere.

I stood up, raised the iron over my head, and brought it down again, but this time I didn't aim for his head. Ken was lying on his right side, and the unforgiving steel came down on his left leg below the knee. There was another crack of broken bone. Ken moaned and jerked, but I doubted he felt much pain from the blow. He was still out of it. Likely the leg didn't even hurt now, but I reckoned it would hurt like a bastard when he came to if he did.

I flung the iron out into the cane field. I walked over and picked up the pistol with my pinkie through the trigger guard. It was evidence to prove the case of self-defense if I needed it. I tossed the pistol into the boot of the car and closed the lid.

I went back to Ken and dug through his pants pockets until I found the folding knife. I opened it and cut the duct tape off my wrists. I threw the knife into the field. Looking down at Ken I said, "I warned you. I told you not to touch me you bastard."

The keys were still in the ignition. Sliding behind the wheel, I started the car and made a turnabout through the edge of the cane field. Back on the red dirt road, I accelerated and drove away, clouds of red dust from the road billowing in the wake of the big car.

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# Chapter 18

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THE PERFECT STORM OF rage and adrenaline had passed. All I felt was fatigue and weakness. I was sick of the case and tired of Hawaii. I wanted to go home, I wanted to see Malone. Did I want him to comfort me? To feel sorry for me for all I'd been through? I didn't know. I only knew this was meant to be an ordinary missing person case, but it had turned out anything but. A real mare's nest.

At the end of the red dirt road into the cane fields was a paved road. With no idea where I was, I turned left onto the road because I had to go some direction. Looking at the odometer I noted the mileage. I'd need to be able to provide directions to this place. After five minutes or so I came to an intersection with another road. There was a sign at street sign at the intersection. The road I'd been driving on was Kahuku Road and I had arrived at Kamehameha Highway. There was a servo at the intersection. After parking, I walked to a pay telephone near the petrol pumps. I dialed 911. I told the operator that there was an unconscious man down with severe injuries. I explained the man was on a rural road in some cane fields. After giving the operator the directions from the intersection I was at, she asked my name. I hung up the phone and got back in the car.

After debating the wisdom of it for a few moments, I picked up the receiver and made another call. Allison Shaw answered the phone.

"Ken didn't get the job done," I said. "I'm on my way back there. We're all going to sit down and have a civilized conservation about who killed your father."

Allison gasped in astonishment, but she stayed on the line. I told her I'd seen her shoot Jimmy Kamaka and that I had the gun she had used.

"If you and your mum aren't waiting at the house when I arrive, I'll ring the police and tell them everything I've told you. I'll give them the gun. Have the conversation with me when I arrive. Let's work something out."

The line went dead. I didn't know whether that meant Allison had accepted or rejected my offer. Only one way to find out.

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STOPPING IN THE DRIVE in front of the house, I saw a neat row of suitcases on the porch next to the front door. The door was standing open. With care, I entered the house, clearing the place room by room as I continued down the hallway. There were no voices, no noises at all. The house had the feel of emptiness. There was no sign of Kathleen or Allison. After searching the first floor, I went upstairs. Still nothing. Where had they gotten off to? Why would they have left without the luggage? I didn't believe Kathleen would have left at all without hearing news of Ken. I started back out the front door to check the outbuildings when I saw it. There was a note pinned to the wall beside the front door. I pulled it off the wall and read it.

I have Kathleen and Allison. Bring the money to St. Catalina Seaside Chapel on Kalanianaole Highway. It's off the entrance to Sea Life Park. Be there at 10:00 p.m. sharp. Come alone and be on time. NO TRICKS. I'm out of patience. If I smell one whiff of the cops. Or you're late, or you don't bring my money they will both die, and their blood will be on your hands.

Adam, the rat bastard. He kept turning up. Seemed he had managed to get away from the cop in Kailua and somehow had made it back to Shaw's place ahead of me. Bloody hell. The note be damned, it seemed it was time to turn things over to the Honolulu police.

All I knew for certain was that I wasn't going to show up at St. Catalina Seaside Chapel and hand over the money to Adam. No bloody way. He'd crossed the line by committing an actual kidnapping now. No doubt following his instructions to the letter would likely get both the Shaw women killed and me. Still in a bit of a fog from the blow to the head, I needed an objective opinion. I walked out to the motorbike and retrieved my mobile from the compartment beneath the seat.

I punched in Malone's mobile number. It wasn't that I needed Malone to tell me what to do. What I needed was another perspective. I needed the opinion of someone who could look at the situation through the lens of objectivity. Malone answered on the second ring.

"You all right T. J.?" Malone said.

"No, not feeling too flash at the moment," I said. "Things keep going from bad to worse."

"What happened?"

I gave Malone the highlights.

"Ah shit," Malone said. "T. J., I think you need to get the cops involved now. If the guy who tried to kill you in the cane fields is dead, you're going to catch some heat over it. Sounds like you still aren't completely out of the woods on the Douglas Shaw murder. Now you've got a double kidnapping."

"Yep, I had sort of come to the same conclusion, but what if it goes wrong. The note said he would kill them if I called the cops. I believe he will do it."

"It would be unfortunate if Adam kills them," Malone said. "But, if he does, that's on him. And, think about it. What do you owe Kathleen and Allison Shaw? They both more or less consented to you being murdered and buried in a cane field. Seems obvious they were somehow involved in getting you framed for Douglas' murder. Hell, one of them may have murdered Douglas."

"Yep, I have considered all that," I said. "But, they don't deserve to die for it."

"No, they don't, but I still think you need to turn this over to cops now," Malone said.

"Yep, you're right, of course," I said. "I only needed a second opinion from a clear head to be sure I was doing the right thing."

"I'm sorry you walked into a shit storm," Malone said. "I never dreamed a simple missing person case would turn into something like it has."

"No worries," I said. "Not your fault. Shaw wasn't straight with you on what was going on. No way you could have known that until I got here."

"So, you will call HPD?" Malone said.

"Yep, I'll call Detective Young when I hang up. Then I'll go collect the money, and the gun used to kill Kamaka. I'll come clean and tell them everything I know, minimizing the first kidnapping part of it of course. I'll give the police everything along with the note and let them take it from there."

"I think that's best," Malone said.

"Sorry I've done such a shit job with the first real case you've given me," I said.

"T. J. you have done nothing of the sort," Malone said. "You can't look at it that way. You've done an outstanding job with what you've had to work with."

"Thanks and all that," I said, "but I still feel like it has been a big fail. I let the client be killed, and now his wife and daughter may be next."

"You're hurt and exhausted T. J., that's all. After you finish with HPD, go to a hospital and get your head checked out. Then get some rest. I need you back home in one piece."

"Ahkay, I will," I said.

"And call me if you need anything, anything at all," Malone said.

"Yep, sure, I will," I said.

We said goodbye and hung up. I was still packing a bit of a sad, but I felt a little better knowing Malone didn't seem to think me a total incompetent.

I called HPD and left a message for Detective Young to call me. It seemed best to wait for his call before going to Kailua to retrieve the money and guns from the locker. It was a short wait. He called back in less than five minutes.

I first told Young about Ken, where I'd left him, and that I'd already called 911. Then I told him about Adam, the kidnapping of Kathleen and Allison Shaw, and read him the note left at their house. Last, I told him I had a lot of other things to tell him and some property to turn over to the police and asked to meet him. He agreed to meet me in the lobby of my hotel as soon as I could get there. I told him to give me until seven because I had to make a stop on the way to get the property I'd be handing him. We hung up.

The helmet made my head throb all the more, but I climbed on the motorbike anyway and took off for Kailua.

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# Chapter 19

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IT WAS 6:02 WHEN I parked the motorbike at my hotel and walked into the lobby. Carrying the backpack I'd retrieved in Kailua, I scanned the lobby. I didn't see Detective Young. Not that I expected to. It was still almost an hour until seven.

Given my state, what I most wanted was a drink, but I also wanted to shower before Young arrived. I took the lift up to my room and opened the door with the key card. He was sitting in a chair by the sliding doors that entered on the balcony.

Adam smirked and stood up, pointing the pistol at me. "Hello O'Sullivan," he said. "You look surprised to see me. Surely, you didn't think I was going to wait at the chapel to meet you. That would have given you all that time in the world to tell the police all about it so they could surround the place."

"I admit I thought you'd been rather foolish," I said. "Where are Kathleen and Allison."

"You're a smart girl O'Sullivan. You'll figure it out. Now toss the backpack over here."

I took the backpack off my shoulder. Grasping it by the straps, I tossed it on the floor at Adam's feet.

"Well done," Adam said. "For once you've cooperated. Now, turn around and face the door."

"Piss off," I said. "I'm not going to make it easy for you by allowing you to shoot me in the back."

"You've got it all wrong. I never wanted to hurt anyone, I only wanted the money. Think about it, discharging this inside a hotel room would be very loud. Someone might see me leaving your room afterward. I will shoot if I have to, but I'd rather not. I don't want a murder rap. Now, turn around like I told you and I won't have to shoot you."

Funny thing that when it comes down to it. Self-preservation seems to force you to do anything that seems to offer you the chance to survive. Even if it means taking the word of someone you don't trust you find yourself doing it. Still, I hesitated for a beat. I struggled to decide if Adam would shoot me in the back if I turned or not. Then I gave in. I turned and faced the door.

"See that wasn't so hard," Adam said. "You've got to be willing to trust a little sometimes O'Sullivan if you want to survive a bad situation."

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I WOKE UP LISTENING to the sound of someone pounding on a door. Realizing I was face down on the floor, I tried to push myself up to my knees. But the room started to spin. I immediately collapsed back on the floor feeling like my head was going to explode.

I reached back and touched my head behind my right ear where it hurt the worst. My fingers came away wet and sticky. Bloody hell. For the second time today I had been bashed in the head and rendered unconscious. The pounding on the door continued unabated, and I became aware someone was shouting my name. I forced myself to crawl to the door. Grabbing the door handle, I pulled myself to my knees and then to my feet. Dizzy and shaky, I turned the handle and pulled the door open a crack. Then the door was flung open wide, and Young grabbed before I fell down again.

"How's it going?" I said.

"Okay," Young said. "You look like hell. You all right? What the hell happened?"

"Yep, sure, all good," I said. "But I sure could use a drink."

"What happened?" Young said again.

"Adam was here waiting when I got back to my room," I said. "He ambushed me."

Young helped me over to the bed. I sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"You're hurt," Young said. "You should lie down while I call for an ambulance."

"No," I said. "I'll be right in a moment."

"You're bleeding from the head, you might have a concussion."

"Yep, he hit me with his gun," I said. "No worries, I'm used to it, it seems to happen all the time."

"Was he alone?"

"Yep, the women weren't with him if that's what you mean. I remember asking him about them, but can't remember what he said."

"If you won't let me call for an ambulance then we need to get you to a hospital." It was then I recalled what Adam had said. "You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out" or some sort rubbish.

"We have to get to that chapel right away," I said.

"What?"

"The chapel from the note, where Adam told me to bring the money," I said. "I'm sure Kathleen and Allison are there now. They could be hurt."

"Okay, as soon as I drop you off at a hospital I get out there," Young said. "I'll call Oshiro on the way and have her head there now with a tactical team."

"No, I'm going with you," I said.

"No, you can't," Young said. "Even if you weren't hurt, you couldn't. You're a civilian, and this is police business."

"Fuck that," I said. "I'm involved in this, Young. I was almost killed twice today, and I'm bloody well going. You aren't leaving me behind, no fucking way."

"Okay, okay, calm down O'Sullivan," Young said.

I stood up. My head hurt like a bastard, but the room had stopped spinning, and I was sure I could walk. "Come on, let's go."

In the lift, Young rang Oshiro. He told her to get a tactical team together and to get out to St. Catalina Seaside Chapel right away. He told her about Adam ambushing me at the hotel and that I thought the Shaw women might already be at the chapel. Young's had left his unmarked police car in the driveway of the hotel. We got in, and Young took off with lights and sirens toward Kalanianaole Highway.

"I still think you should go to a hospital," Young said.

"I will when this is over," I said. "To be fair, I'm not feeling too flash at the moment."

"Maybe the Shaw women are okay," Young said. "Adam didn't kill you."

"Maybe," I said. "But he did mention that he didn't want to shoot me in a hotel room. He said it would make too much noise and might attract attention when he left my room. He took everything by the way."

"He took everything?"

"Yep, the backpack, Shaw's money, the gun I took off Allison, everything."

"We'll get him," Young said. "He can't get off the island. If he shows up at the airport and tries to buy a ticket security will arrest him."

"Have you found out his last name?" I said.

"Yes, and we found out where he worked," Young said. "We talked to his former boss at the helicopter tour business he flew for. His boss fired him after he discovered some damage on one of their choppers Adam had flown and wouldn't explain. His full name is Adam Morton."

"He won't risk the airport," I said.

"Then he won't get off the island."

"He's a bloody pilot, he doesn't need commercial air to get off the island," I said.

"Well, we will worry about that later," Young said. "We'll be at the chapel in 2 minutes."

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WE TURNED ON AN ACCESS road with a sign that read SEA LIFE PARK HAWAII and then onto another narrower paved road. There was a white wood frame chapel on a hillside.

"What is this place?" I said.

"It's mostly used as a wedding chapel," Young said. "It's very popular with Japanese tourists who come to Honolulu to get married."

Young drove into the carpark outside the chapel. An armored tactical vehicle, another unmarked police sedan, and an ambulance were there. A police helicopter orbited overhead. Oshiro was walking down the steps from the chapel entrance. She started towards us as we got out of the car.

Oshiro shook her head from side to side. "They are both dead," Oshiro said. "Both were shot. Allison Shaw was already dead when we arrived. Kathleen Shaw was still alive, but she died before the ambulance arrived."

"Shit," Young said.

Oshiro turned to me. "Before she died, Kathleen confessed to killing her husband. They had an argument in your hotel room. She slapped him, and he flew into a rage. He started beating her. She believed he was going to kill her. She saw the wine bottle on a table, grabbed it, and hit him in the head to make him stop hurting her. Guess you're off the hook, O'Sullivan. Somehow that doesn't seem right."

"And why is that Oshiro?" I said. "I told you I didn't kill him."

"Because four people have died since you arrived in Honolulu," Oshiro said. "Four people who chances are would all still be alive if you had contacted us sooner."

"No way to know that for sure," Young said.

"Piss off Oshiro," I said. "I was only doing my job. No one could have predicted any of this was going to happen."

Oshiro took a step toward me. Young stepped in front of her. "Let it go," he said. "If you've got this, O'Sullivan needs to get to a hospital."

"Call for an ambulance then," Oshiro said. "The one already here already has two passengers."

"No, I'll drive her," Young said. "I'll call you later. We'll need to organize the search for Adam Morton."

Oshiro stood there tight-lipped. Then she nodded to Young, turned, and walked back towards the chapel.

"Get in the car," Young said. "I'm taking you to a hospital."

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# Chapter 20

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AT PRINCESS KAIULANI Medical Center the on-duty ER resident examined me. He confirmed I had two concussions. Both he had rated as mild.

"As far as traumatic brain injuries go, concussions are the most common and the least serious," the doctor said. "Still, concussions must be taken seriously. I'm going to admit you."

"But, other than a sore head and feeling a bit tired I'm fine," I said.

"Perhaps, but you lost consciousness both times you were struck on the head. That combined with the confusion, nausea, and blurred vision you experienced requires you must stay here for observation."

"For how long?" I said.

"Overnight at least," the doctor said. "We will see how you're doing tomorrow."

The good news according to the doctor was the CT scan hadn't revealed any inter-cranial bleeding. With time he said I should make a full recovery.

"But, understand having had two separate concussions in one day, full recovery might take longer than usual," the doctor said.

After the doctor left the room, Young walked in. "What did the doctor say?" he said.

"I'll live, but I have to stay here at least overnight for observation," I said.

"Guess you will be going back to LA as soon as you're well enough to travel," Young said. "Your case is over now."

"Aloha already?" I said. "Have I already worn out my welcome in Honolulu?"

"I didn't mean it that way," Young said. "I'm sure we will catch Morton soon, but when we do it will be months before there is a trial. You could come back if you're needed for that. I imagine you have someone waiting for you back in LA."

"Nah, not really," I said. "There is a guy I fancy there, but he is in a relationship, and nothing will ever come of it."

"Married?"

"No, 'not exactly' as he likes to put it. But, it's a long-term committed relationship, and he isn't the kind of guy to have affairs."

"You never know," Young said. "He isn't married yet, sometimes those things don't work out."

"He's the loyal type, I'm talking puppy dog loyalty here. He'd never leave the woman he is with, and he is an amazing guy so she would never end things with him."

"So you're staying on in Honolulu for a while?" Young said.

"I'm thinking about staying on a permanent basis," I said. "There is nothing back in LA for me really. I've been considering making a move for a while now. Hawaii has everything I like about a place; the sea, the beaches, amazing weather."

"If you feel the need to move, what about home, New Zealand?"

"Yeah, nah nothing promising waiting for me there either," I said. "I'll move back there someday when I'm older, but not yet."

Young went silent for a bit. "Well, if you're staying in Honolulu, maybe we could have dinner together or see a movie or something sometime."

"Detective Young," I said, "are you asking me out on a date?"

"No, I mean, well, yes I guess you could put it that way," Young said. His face had turned a curious shade of red. How cute. I laughed.

"Yep, sure, happy to have dinner or something with you," I said.

"As much as I'd rather talk about that, I guess we better get back to business for now," Young said.

"Yep, I never did have the chance to tell you my story did I," I said.

Young drew up a chair and pulled out a notebook and a pen. I started telling him the story, from the beginning when I first arrived and met Shaw. Young listened and wrote in his notebook. He asked a question from time to time.

"A PI working a kidnapping is a problem," Young said.

"Yep, it is," I said. "But Shaw insisted on no police. Another thing is this. After speaking with Kathleen that day, I had already started to feel the kidnapping thing was a bit sus. Call it female intuition if you wish. But she didn't seem upset enough for a mum whose daughter was being held for ransom by desperate crims."

"And you know for a fact that Kathleen Shaw was in on the fake kidnapping extortion scheme?"

"Yes, I do. When I caught up with Allison Shaw after she crashed the car, she called me by name. The only way she could have known my name was if she and her mum were staying in touch. I've never heard of kidnappers allowing a victim to stay in touch with their mum."

"Makes sense, but you didn't know for sure at the time the kidnapping was a fake and it wasn't your call to decide it was. You should have called us as soon as Douglas Shaw told you his daughter had been kidnapped."

"Won't argue the point with you, detective, but that's all spilt milk now."

"And Shaw asked you to deliver the ransom," Young said.

"Yes, and the money was in the backpack that Adam Morton took off me at the hotel. Most of it anyway. I had to use some of it, a few hundred dollars for expenses."

"You saw Allison Shaw shoot Jimmy Kamaka?"

"Yep, but as I said, it wasn't intentional. Allison was shooting at Adam Morton. I learned only earlier today why she tried to shoot Adam. He was trying to take a lot more of the ransom money than they had agreed to. Anyway, Adam was running to his helicopter. It was parked near the wood line where Kamaka and I were standing. While Allison was firing, Kamaka caught one of the bullets meant for Adam. It was random bad luck. What a sad guy."

"And the gun she used was in the backpack with the money?" Young said.

"Yep, the semi-automatic I took off Allison Shaw after the car crash. If you recover it, when your lab checks the ballistics they will find it is the gun that fired the bullet that killed Kamaka."

"That really screws the chain of custody with you having possession of the murder weapon for several days," Young said.

"Yep, and I'm sorry, but I was trying to extricate myself from a jam that was not entirely of my own making. I thought the gun might give me some leverage with Kathleen and Allison. I felt I needed it to get to the bottom of who did kill Douglas Shaw. I was sure they both knew who killed him. Anyway, the chain of custody is rooted for sure now that Adam Morton has possession of the gun."

"I suppose it's a moot point now since Allison Shaw is dead," Young said. "Who did you think had killed Douglas Shaw?" Young said. "Were you surprised by the dying declaration Kathleen Shaw made to Oshiro?"

"I was quite certain Kathleen Shaw had killed her husband," I said.

"Why?"

"The location and the weapon used," I said. "And based on past history, it seemed self-defense was a good bet. I don't think she meant to kill him. I'm inclined to believe that she hit him a good bit harder than intended. Or maybe like Jimmy Kamaka, Shaw was just unlucky. Maybe he got bashed in just the right spot to cause his death."

"What was Douglas Shaw doing in your room?"

"Obvious isn't it? He was found almost nude. It would seem that he had deluded himself into believing he could talk me into having sex with him. He had organized the room for me before I arrived. He made the reservation and guaranteed payment. It wouldn't have been difficult for him to get a key card from the front desk to let himself in."

"Easy enough to check," Young said. "How would Mrs. Shaw end up in your room with the opportunity to kill her husband?"

"Also, an easy one. Ken, Douglas Shaw's driver, was Kathleen Shaw's lover. No doubt Ken kept her apprised of her husband's whereabouts. I expect when she learned Douglas was in my hotel room, she went there to catch us in the act and to confront her husband."

"But, you weren't there."

"No, but I reckon seeing her husband in my room wearing nothing but a hotel bathrobe made it quite plain what he was on to. That would easily have caused a row where things got out of hand."

"Why didn't you suspect Ken, the driver? After all, you saw him at the hotel and believed he was the one who tried to set you up to take the fall."

"The murder weapon didn't feel right," I said. "If Ken had wanted Shaw dead, he likely would have just shot him. Or if he didn't have a gun handy, he's a big guy and could have beaten Shaw to death with his fists. A wine bottle seems more a weapon of opportunity. Something a woman would have used, a desperate woman trying to defend herself."

"So, you think Ken tried to frame you to cover for Mrs. Shaw."

"Yep, that is the theory that makes the most sense to me," I said.

"By the way, I checked on Ken's condition. He is still in intensive care, but he is stable. Seems he will be in the hospital a while though. He needs surgery for multiple compound fractures of his left tibia."

"Yep, well I had to make certain he stayed immobilized. I didn't have anything to tie him up with after I bashed him in the head. Forgive me if I don't shed any tears for Ken. The rat bastard was not only keen to murder me, but he also intended to make me dig my own grave."

"Yeah, I understand," Young said. "You don't have any problem there. Our crime scene people recovered the gun and shovel from the trunk of the Chrysler 300. Ken's prints were on both of them. Probably best that he didn't die though."

"Yep, true and I'm happy not to be a wanted person anymore," I said. "Come to think of it there may be a traffic warrant out on me for running that red light. Knowing that cop in Kailua, he probably charged me with fleeing too."

Young laughed. "No, I spoke with him and considering the circumstances he isn't going to charge you. You're all good there too."

"Good on him," I said. "Not to be unsociable, but unless you have more questions, I could use a rest. I have to stay here overnight anyway. Might as well take advantage of it. I'm shattered."

"Oh, sure," Young said. "I'm sorry, you must be exhausted."

"A bit," I said.

"Okay, I'll check on you tomorrow, get some sleep."

"Right," I said.

Young got up and returned the chair to where he got it. He walked to the door, but stopped and turned back before leaving the room. "One more thing," Young said.

"What's that Detective Young?"

"You're still a wanted person if you want to know," Young said with a wink. "And it's Mike. You can call me Mike."

"Ahkay, Mike it is," I said. "And call me T. J. please." I smiled, Young smiled and then turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. He was rather dashing. I reckoned having dinner with him would be sweet.

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# Chapter 21

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THE DOCTOR KEPT ME in the hospital another day and night. He wasn't comfortable with discharging me until all the symptoms were gone. The day after admission to the hospital, I still had headaches. There had also been a feeling of pressure in my head.

Mike Young had come to the hospital to check on me twice the first day and was there the morning the doctor discharged me. Mike gave me a ride back to the hotel. We agreed to a seven o'clock dinner date at a place he knew and then Mike returned to work. I still had some sensitivity to noise and light. Concentrating was still difficult at times. But I felt better after catching up on my rest. With most of the day left, I decided to do something more productive than lying about or sunning beside the hotel pool.

Jimmy Kamaka had told me the name of the helicopter tour company where he and Adam Morton had worked. I got the address from the concierge at the hotel. He offered to arrange the tour for me, but I told him I wanted to check the place out first. I collected the motorbike from the parking garage. I then headed for Pearl City, the location of Oahu Air Tours. When I arrived, I saw helicopters that looked like the one I'd seen Adam flying. At the desk in the office, I told the receptionist I needed to speak with the owner or person in charge. The receptionist picked up the phone and rang someone. A guy who looked to be in his mid-fifties wearing chinos and a flowery Aloha shirt came out from an office in the back.

"Aloha, I'm Chet Beckett, operations manager," he said. "How can help you?"

"Hello Mr. Beckett," I said. "I'm T. J. O'Sullivan. I need some information. Would you be kind enough to answer a few questions?"

"Well, little lady, that depends on the questions," Beckett said. "What do you want to know?"

"I understand that Adam Morton worked here as a pilot," I said.

"May I ask what this about and who you are exactly?" Beckett said.

"I'm a private investigator, Mr. Beckett," I said. "I'm conducting a background check on Adam Morton for a client he has applied for work with."

"I see," Beckett said. "I need to know who I'm talking to when discussing personnel information. Even information about a former employee. So, yes you're correct. Adam Morton was a pilot for us for about six months."

"This might seem a bit random, but are all your helicopters accounted for, Mr. Beckett?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Curiosity," I said. I turned and looked out the plate glass window. "So, your tour company operates the two helicopters out there?"

"Those and we have two birds out flying tours today," Beckett said.

"It's a total of four helicopters then?"

"Five total," Beckett said. "One bird is down for maintenance. It's in the maintenance hanger out back."

"Are you certain it's there?"

"Sure, I'm sure," Beckett said. "I'm not following what any of this has to do with a background check on a former employee."

"I'll be happy to explain in a moment," I said. "But, would you humor me and take a walk with me to the hanger to make certain the helicopter is there?"

"You're not here doing a background check are you little lady?" Beckett said. "Are you from the insurance company?"

"The insurance company?"

"Yes, we made a claim on a damaged windshield. Are you here checking up on the claim?"

"Ahkay, Mr. Beckett. You got me. Yes, I work for the insurance company. They want to know a little more about the circumstances of the windscreen damage. If you allow me to examine it, it will expedite the claim process."

"Well, see here, the pilot wasn't very cooperative in explaining the damage. That's why we had to let him go."

"So, the pilot, that would have been Adam Morton?"

"Yes, it was Morton," Beckett said.

"So, how about it, Mr. Beckett? Can we have a look inside the hanger?"

Beads of perspiration had popped out on Beckett's forehead, and he seemed a bit fidgety.

"Sure, I guess so," Beckett said. "Follow me."

I followed Beckett out the front door of the office building. We walked to a large sheet metal covered hanger behind the office. Beckett went to a side door, opened it, and motioned for me to proceed ahead of him. After we were inside, Beckett flipped a light switch.

"Well, shit," Beckett said. "Please pardon my French."

There was no helicopter in sight.

"It was here yesterday," Beckett said. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Is there a problem Mr. Beckett?" I said.

"Yes, there is a problem. There's a big problem. I'm missing a helicopter for one. And it isn't airworthy."

"Airworthy?"

"Yes, it shouldn't be flying. The mechanics brought it here to await replacement of the windshield. They completed other routine maintenance checks as well. They discovered that the bearings in the tail rotor were bad. They haven't replaced the bearings yet because we are waiting for delivery of the parts. If that bird is being flown and the bearings seize up, it will crash. The mechanics said we'd been damn lucky that hadn't happened already."

"Would the helicopter crash without warning?" I said.

"Well, the pilot would get an alarm on the flight panel first, an abnormal heat in the tail rotor assembly alarm. That would tell the pilot he needed to set the bird down right away. So, no it wouldn't crash without any warning. The alarm might only give the pilot a few minutes to find a place to land before the bearings failed though."

"Do your helicopters have the range to reach all the islands in the chain from here on Oahu?"

"Yes, as far as the eight major islands go," Beckett said. "We run tours to them all."

"If the bearings failed on the missing helicopter, where would be the most likely place for it to come down?"

"It depends on where the bird was going. And, as I said, the mechanics said we were damn lucky the bearings hadn't seized already during flight. They both agreed they didn't believe the bearings would last for more than another flight hour at most. If the bird flew to Kauai for example, that's about 63 miles, so I wouldn't like the chances of it making it that far. If the pilot went the other direction, the bird could make it to Molokai, Lanai, even Maui. But I doubt it would make it to the big island."

"I see, so the closer the better the chances then."

"Yes, but that bird shouldn't be flown at all. I need to call the police and report that someone has stolen it. And I need to notify the Coast Guard to start a search in case it went down in the ocean."

"Do me a favor, Mr. Beckett?" I said.

"What kind of favor?"

"I understand you want to report the theft as soon as possible. But would you consider not saying anything to the police for a couple of days?"

"Why the devil would I wait to report it?" Beckett said. "If the bird goes down in a populated area there could be liability issues. It seems best to report it now."

"We're sure to have heard about it already if it had crashed on land, Mr. Beckett," I said. "Chances are the helicopter is on the ground somewhere now, unless as you said it is in the sea."

"Why are you asking me to do this?"

"I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Beckett. I'm not doing a background check, and I don't work for your insurer. I'm looking for Adam Morton. Morton took some valuable property from my client, and I want to get it back. If the police find Morton first, I may never get the property back. The courts will keep it tied up in legal limbo. If Adam Morton took your missing helicopter as I suspect and I can find him, I'd get my property back. But you would also get your helicopter back. It's a win-win for both of us."

"But, I have to notify the Coast Guard," Beckett said. "If the bird went into the ocean, if the pilot survived the crash, he won't last long in open water. Evidence at a crash site deteriorates with every passing hour. That makes it even more difficult to find a crash site."

"Sure, I understand," I said. "But if you report this to the Coast Guard you'll have to tell them Morton stole the helicopter. They will likely share that information with the police."

"Okay, I understand that. It doesn't change the ethical considerations."

"When would you have discovered the helicopter was missing if I hadn't shown up here today?" I said.

"I suppose in a couple of days when the supplier delivers the parts we need," Beckett said. "The mechanics would have discovered it missing. You know when they went to the hanger to replace the bearings."

"Then why not give me those two days?" I said. "No one but us knows the helicopter is missing."

"But what if it crashed? What about the pilot?"

"It's been 24 hours already," I said. "You said it was yesterday when you saw the helicopter in the hanger. If it crashed in the ocean, it's already too late for the pilot. If it had crashed on land, we would have heard about it."

"If I agree do you give me your word you will notify me if you find my missing bird?"

"Of course I will, Mr. Beckett," I said, "you have my word on it."

"All right, 48 hours," Beckett said. "I'll wait 48 hours before I call the police. But not one minute more."

"Awesome," I said. "Thank you for giving me the chance to find Morton, Mr. Beckett."

"Then I'll expect to hear from you soon."

"Yes, no worries," I said. "Count on it."

After saying goodbye to Beckett, I got on the motorbike and headed back to Waikiki. The search for Morton and the missing helicopter would have to wait until tomorrow. I first needed to locate a flying service to hire. I didn't reckon Morton had crashed into the sea. Only if he had made an unlucky choice and tried flying to one of the more distant islands. It seemed logical Morton wanted to get off Oahu to somewhere he could lay low until the heat died down a bit. Afterward, he could try to organize a way to leave the islands for another part of the world. My guess was he was already on the ground on one of the nearer islands to Oahu that Beckett had mentioned. I'd start with Molokai tomorrow and work my way down the chain from there as necessary.

It was after four when I got back to the hotel. Feeling a bit tired I decided to nap until time to get ready for the dinner date with Mike Young.

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# Chapter 22

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FIVE-THIRTY, THE TIME I'd set the alarm on my phone before falling asleep, came sooner than I found I wanted. The doctor warned I'd sleep more than usual or less than usual until I had recovered from the concussions. So far at least it seemed like it was going to be the former for me. I wasn't quite sure Malone had mentioned this facet of the private detecting business. Getting bashed on the head on a routine basis wasn't something I'd expected. I wasn't keen to experience that with regularity.

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I sensed a headache was beginning. I was happy it was more of a dull ache than the severe type I'd had before. I walked to the bathroom and took a couple of the pills they had given me at the hospital and chased them with water. I looked into the mirror. My hair was a mess, and I had dark gray circles under my eyes. At least I had some time to pull myself together before Mike was due to pick me up.

After a scalding hot shower, I went to work with two shades of concealer to cover the dark circles. I dotted my face with foundation. I buffed it into my skin, being gentle around my eyes, so I didn't remove the concealer beneath them. It took a good half hour, but I managed to achieve my goal. I'd blended the concealer and foundation into one so that I achieved the natural look I was going for. It wasn't my habit to wear make up much. I preferred the natural look. But beyond the eye imperfections, my face was a bit pale. I hadn't had enough time in the sun lately. Satisfied I looked presentable after drying and brushing my hair I was ready to get dressed.

Having retrieved my luggage, I had a wider selection of outfits to choose from. Settling on a little black dress I thought was flattering, I dug through my suitcase for undies. I was careful to select matching bra and undies, some lacy black ones. I didn't plan anything happening after dinner with Mike. After all, it was the first date. But a wise girl is always prepared for anything. I'd accepted long ago that after some drinks, I tended to lose a few inhibitions.

The passing thought of Mike and sex left me feeling a bit conflicted and a bit angry with myself. Mike was an attractive man, and I was a modern feminist with every right to express my own sexuality. But I knew very well the source of the conflicted feelings, my infatuation with Malone.

I'd had my chances, but I hadn't had sex since I'd forced myself to acknowledge the feelings I had for him. I knew why I hadn't. Even now the brief thought of Mike and sex had skewered me with feelings of disloyalty toward Malone. The feelings were as ridiculous as they were familiar. For fuck's sake. How could I still be so obsessed with a man I was never going to have the chance to be with.

I shook off the impending slide into a full on pity party. I resisted another bout of self-loathing over my unrequited crush. After slipping on the dress, I added a gold choker and matching delicate gold bracelet to my outfit. I put my feet into a pair of black patent leather pumps with three-inch heels. A last minute check in the mirror, and I was off to the lift for the ride down to the lobby to wait for Mike's arrival.

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MIKE WALKED INTO THE lobby at ten of seven, scoring points for promptness. He looked dashing in khaki Dockers with a blue sports coat and tie. He escorted me outside where he had left his car, a red Jeep Grand Cherokee. We made small talk while he drove us to the other end of Waikiki to an Italian restaurant that he said I was sure to like.

It was an awesome evening, perfect for being outdoors, and Mike had reserved a table on the patio. We began the night with a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio while we waited for our food. Mike had lasagna. I ordered the shrimp fettuccine that our server had recommended. We drank some wine and chatted until the server brought us salads.

"Any leads on where Adam Morton has got off to?" I said.

"Not yet," Mike said. "But my guess is he is still on the island."

"What makes you so certain?" I said.

"We have alerts out to all the airports," Mike said. "He can't get a commercial or charter flight out. And, there have been no stolen helicopter reports."

"No stolen planes?" I said.

"We aren't concerned about that," Mike said. "We checked his records. He only flies helicopters."

"There are heaps of helicopter tour operators on Oahu," I said. "Morton could get off the island that way."

"We've got that covered. We've taken flyers with Morton's photo and description to all the tour operators. A helicopter wouldn't do him much good anyway."

"How so?" I said.

"He couldn't get far in a helicopter. According to the owner of one tour operator I spoke with a chopper has a range of around 300 nautical miles. That's enough to get to any of the eight major islands in the chain, but not even close to enough to get away from Hawaii."

"Where do you think he might have got off to," I said.

"Hard to say," Mike said. "I expect he'd want to go someplace remote and out of the way. He'd want a place to lay low without attracting attention until he comes up with some plan to escape the islands. You could find places like that on any of the islands, even here on Oahu for that matter."

"He does have heaps of cash," I said. "I suppose there are places in the islands if you know how to find them where you can get fake documents. If he got a fake passport, changed his hair, and say grew a beard, he might be able to slip past airport security."

"Fake documents good enough to fool the TSA in this post 9/11 era would be a stretch not to mention expensive," Mike said. "It doesn't seem logical Morton would want to spend a significant part of the money he's got making his escape. Speaking of the money, it occurs to me I never asked you how much money Morton took."

"It was $750,000," I said. "In a way that's a lot, but it doesn't seem enough to pay for a lifetime on the run." I wasn't sure why I had lied to Mike, telling him it was $750,000 instead of the full one million dollars.

"It's definitely more money than I could ever imagine having at one time living on a police detective's salary."

"Yep, more than I ever expect to have at one time too," I said. "What's going to happen to Shaw's estate now that his wife and daughter are also dead?"

"From what I've heard, Douglas Shaw didn't have any other living relatives," Mike said. "It's conjecture at this point. But I've heard his money will end up going to the state unless a distant relative appears to make a claim."

"That's good in a way," I said. "At least if the money is never recovered, no flesh and blood person is going to suffer as a result."

"Yes, but I'm sure the politicians here would prefer to see that money go into the state treasury," Mike said. "Along with the rest of Shaw's estate."

The server brought our entrees, and we were quiet for a bit while we ate. Mike ordered a second bottle of wine. I was more of a red wine person, but the Pinot Grigio was quite good.

"This fettuccine is amazing," I said. "You chose quite a nice restaurant for us. Good on you."

"Yes, the food is always great here. It's one of my favorite restaurants here in Honolulu. There are some others I'd love to take you too, but I thought this one would be a good start."

After dinner and after we had finished the last of the second bottle of wine Mike invited me to cross the road and take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. I took off my shoes, and the wet sand felt amazing on my bare feet.

"It's such a super evening, I'm surprised there aren't more people on the beach," I said. "We almost have it all to ourselves."

"There is a city ordinance against being on the public beaches after dark," Mike said. "But in the interest of tourism enforcement isn't exactly strict."

"I suppose that would be bad for the tourist trade," I said.

"It's a little late for a movie, but I'm not ready to say goodnight," Mike said. "What else would you like to do?"

"The wine you picked for us at dinner was awesome," I said, "but I could do with a proper cocktail. We could go back to my hotel for drinks. There are some nice bars there."

"Sounds like a plan," Mike said.

I put my shoes on, and we made our way back to where Mike had parked the Jeep, and he drove us back to the hotel. I led the way to the bar with outdoor seating that I had visited before. Mike had the traditional Mai Tai, and I ordered a Coconut Mojito.

After our second round, bored of sweet rum drinks, we changed it up. Mike switched to scotch, and I started drinking tequila shots with lime and salt. With a little persuasion, I got Mike on board with the shots too. It reminded me of the first time Malone, and I had gone drinking. I was feeling a bit buzzy, but the thoughts of Malone had me packing a bit of a sad at the same time. Mike seemed to pick up on the vibe.

"Are you tired?" Mike said.

"Yep, a bit, actually," I said. "Damn concussions. I'm still not my old self yet."

"Could be it's not a great idea to drink so much until you get over the concussions," Mike said.

"Oi, I haven't had that much to drink," I said. "And, thanks for not monitoring my liquor intake unless you want to wind me up. I'm a big girl, and us Kiwis like our drinks. It's something I'm quite capable of sorting for myself."

Mike winced a bit under the sudden barrage. "I'm sorry, T. J.," he said. "I didn't mean it the way it came out. I'm only concerned about you that's all."

"No, worries then mate," I said. "All good."

It wasn't that I was angry with Mike. But the discussion about my drinking had soured my mood. To be fair, I had already started leaning towards the irritable side of things. The tingling in my bits I'd felt earlier when we were walking on the beach was now long gone. I knew that finishing the date beneath the sheets in my bed wasn't happening.

"I am feeling a bit knackered," I said. "I should call it a night and get some rest."

"I understand," Mike said. "Come on, I'll walk you to the elevator."

"Ahkay," I said. I was thankful that he hadn't said he would walk me to my room since I had already decided the date was over. I didn't want the evening to end with drama at the door to my room.

At the lift, I pushed the button for my floor. While we waited, I leaned in and gave Mike a quick peck on the lips and then a hug. "It was lovely," I said. "Thanks for that. I hope we can do it again when I'm feeling a bit more flash."

"Sure, I'd like that," Mike said. "In fact, if you're free for dinner tomorrow evening I'd love to take you to another restaurant on my list of favorites."

"I'm keen to have dinner with you again soon," I said. "But not tomorrow evening, actually. I've been here a week and haven't seen any of the sights. I'm planning to do a bit of sightseeing tomorrow, and I'll get back late. How about the day after?"

"Okay, sure, the day after would be great," Mike said.

"Sweet as," I said. The doors opened, and I got on the lift. "See you," I said.

"Goodnight, and sleep well," Mike said.

"Ta," I said. The doors closed and the lift started up.

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# Chapter 23

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AT SEVEN-THIRTY IN the morning, I parked the rental motorbike in front of a squat one-story building. It was on John Rodgers Field in Kapolei. There was a bright yellow Robinson R44 Raven II helicopter parked on a pad beside the building. A sign out front identified the facility as Hele Aku Aviation. I'd selected the flying service at random during a web search. I liked the website.

Walking into the building, I spied a slightly built brunette. She looked to be about my age and was sitting behind a gray metal desk. She was wearing a red baseball cap and a tan Nomex flight suit. She looked up at me from behind a computer screen when I walked in.

"May I help you?" she said.

"Yes, I'm looking to hire a helicopter," I said.

"You've come to the right place," the woman said. "I'm Jackie Fitzgerald, the owner, and chief pilot. Transportation or freight?"

"Transportation," I said.

"How many passengers?" Fitzgerald said. "Three is the max. My bird is a four-seater."

"Only me," I said.

"Where do you want to go?" Fitzgerald said.

"Well, there's a bit of a story to that, Ms. Fitzergarld," I said.

"Then have a seat and tell me about it," Fitzgerald said, motioning to the lone chair in front of the desk. "And you can call me Jackie."

"Great, a pleasure meeting you, Jackie," I said. "I'm T. J. O'Sullivan."

"You're not from around here are you?" Jackie said.

"No. I live in LA, but I'm from New Zealand, actually."

"Cool," Jackie said. "Why don't you tell me the story you mentioned."

"I'm looking for a man," I said.

"Aren't we all?" Jackie said, with a chuckle.

I smiled in spite of myself. "Yep, not in that way," I said. "The man is a crim. He took a great deal of money from a client of mine. I aim to find him and get it back."

"A client of yours?" Jackie said.

"Yep, I'm a private investigator," I said.

"So, this guy is trying to escape with the money?" Jackie said.

"I'm sure that's his ultimate goal," I said. "But, for the moment I think he is trying to lay low until the heat is off a bit."

"Why aren't the cops looking for him?" Jackie said.

"They are. But, I'd prefer to find him myself."

"So, where is this guy supposed to be?"

"Not too certain of that," I said. "I'm guessing on one of the other islands east of Oahu."

Jackie made a half turn in her swivel chair and pointed at a map of Hawaii affixed to the wall behind her desk. "That's quite a large area to search," she said. She turned back to face me. "That's sort of like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack."

"There is one thing that might narrow things down a bit," I said.

"What's that?"

"He stole a helicopter from a former employer," I said. "And, the helicopter has mechanical problems he was unaware of when he took it."

"What kind of mechanical problems?"

"Failing bearings in the tail rotor assembly," I said. "The mechanics who looked at it don't expect the bearings to last for more than another flight hour."

"I see," Jackie said. "You said he went south. So, we're looking at Molokai, Maui, or Lanai."

"Yep, his former employer doesn't believe the helicopter would make it as far as the big island."

"Still, that's a lot of areas to cover," Jackie said. "The man you're looking for, he's a local pilot?"

"Yes, he flew for a tour operator in Pearl City."

"He have a name?"

"Yes, Adam Morton," I said.

"I've heard of him," Jackie said.

"Have you? Do you know him?"

"Of him. I've seen him around. I know what he looks like. I know most of the helicopter pilots that fly out of Oahu for a paycheck."

"So, are you interested in the job?" I said.

"I am, but this kind of thing can get expensive in a hurry."

How much do you charge?" I said.

"Business is a little slow at the moment," Jackie said. "I could do it for $375 per flight hour. If it goes over four flight hours, I'll take ten-percent off the total bill."

"How would we proceed?" I said.

"Assuming we're looking for the helicopter on the ground somewhere. We could start with Molokai. We could fly the usual tour route and hope Morton is a creature of habit. Then work our way south as necessary."

"There is a usual route?" I said.

"Yes," Jackie said. "It's dictated to a large degree by operations over water procedures." She stood up and pointed to the map behind her desk. "The general route from Oahu is across the channel. Down the length of Molokai and then across the channel here and along the western side of Maui. That way you only spend time over the water crossing the channels."

"I see," I said.

"But now that I know who you are looking for, I'd say our best bet would be to start with Lanai. That's assuming mechanical problems didn't force Morton to land on Molokai."

"Why is that?" I said.

"Two reasons," Jackie said. "You said Morton wants to lay low. Lanai is the perfect place to go off the grid. The island is about 140 square miles with a population of only a little over 3,000. Only 30 miles of paved roads, most of it is dirt roads only accessible with a four-wheel drive vehicle. And, there is a small law enforcement presence."

"I see. It does sound remote. You said there were two reasons."

"Yes, the other reason is I heard somewhere that Adam Morton grew up on Lanai. He's familiar with the island. He may still know people there."

"Sounds promising," I said. "Still 140 square miles is a large area to search."

"Yes," Jackie said. "But, we could confine the search for the bird to the usual route across Molokai, then the usual route to Lanai City. If we don't spot it along the way, then we concentrate on searching a circle around Lanai City. He got there by helicopter. So, he would be dependent on his feet to reach civilization where he could get food and supplies. Or connect with someone he knows on the island."

"Sounds like a workable plan," I said.

"When do you want to start?" Jackie said.

"Now."

"Excellent, I fueled up the bird yesterday afternoon. Let's go."

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# Chapter 24

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AN HOUR AFTER TAKEOFF from Oahu, Jackie and I reached the eastern terminus of Molokai. We hadn't seen anything of Morton's helicopter. Along the way, I had searched north of the route using a pair of binoculars Jackie had lent me. Jackie had searched to the south from the right seat in the cockpit.

I'd ridden in helicopters during my military days but had never sat up front in one. From time to time I stole a glance at Jackie, fascinated by the skill required to fly the machine. She rarely let go of the cyclic stick with her right hand. It seemed flying a helicopter required near-continuous control inputs.

Jackie had fitted me out with a headset like the one she also wore before takeoff. Headsets were necessary to communicate over the noise of the helicopter. But, we had spoken little since leaving the coast of Oahu. She broke the silence.

"We've followed the heading most pilots would have taken toward Maui," Jackie said. "Now I'm going to come around and head back the way we came. Near the midpoint, flights to Lanai would change course to a southeastern heading."

"Understood," I said.

Now that we were backtracking I didn't feel as compelled to watch the ground passing beneath us. I reckoned it was all right to talk. I was keen to know more about Jackie.

"How long have you been flying helicopters?" I said. "Your skills are impressive."

"Since I was fourteen, more or less," Jackie said. "My father started teaching me then. I did my training solo when I turned sixteen and got my private pilot's license a year later."

"Wow," I said. "So your father was a pilot too."

"Yes, he started Hele Aku Aviation after he returned from the war in Vietnam. He learned to fly in the Army and flew Hueys during the war."

"Does your dad still fly?"

"No, he developed a heart condition that disqualified him from holding a license. So, I inherited the company when he retired."

"So, you've been flying here in Hawaii since you were a young girl?"

"Not only here. I spent time in the Army myself after high school. I attended aviation training at Mother Rucker after completed warrant officer candidate school. I flew Blackhawks out of Wheeler Army Airfield here in Hawaii. I also flew them during two deployments to Afghanistan."

"Mother Rucker?" I said.

"Yeah, Fort Rucker. It's a post in Alabama. It's where the Army trains its aviators. We pilots called the post 'Mother Rucker.' We always seemed to be returning to 'mother' for more training."

"I see. Did you enjoy the Army?"

"It had its moments," Jackie said.

"I also served in Afghanistan with the New Zealand Defense Forces," I said.

Jackie appeared surprised. "Did you? What did you do?"

"I was a sniper in an infantry regiment."

"Now I'm the one impressed," Jackie said. "We've reached the point where we turn southeast. Time to focus on the search again."

"Right," I said. I stopped talking and paid more attention to the ground below.

In a short while, we reached the southern coast of the island and began the channel crossing to Lanai. Unless we had missed spotting it, Morton had made it across Molokai. About ten minutes after changing course we completed the crossing. We crossed the coast and arrived over Lanai. Jackie again broke the silence.

"Now it's time for an educated guess. If I wanted to approach Lanai City without attracting too much attention, I'd fly in from the south. If we don't find the chopper before we reach the outskirts of the town, we will start a circular search pattern. We will expand the circle outward as necessary. That will allow us to determine whether Lanai City was Morton's destination."

"Sounds good," I said.

"Use the glasses to see as far out from our heading as possible, since the route is only a guess on my part," Jackie said.

"Understood."

Jackie flew southeast along the coast for several minutes. Then she put the helicopter into a turn to head north towards Lanai City. About nine or ten kilometers from the town, I thought I saw something.

"Can we turnabout?" I said. "Thought I saw something back there?"

"Where?" Jackie said.

"Off to the west. There was a clearing surrounded by trees. Thought I saw something near the edge of it that might have been a helicopter."

"Okay," Jackie said. She put the helicopter into a turn and headed back the way we had come.

"I pointed to the right of the chopper. "There," I said, "that's the clearing."

"You're right," Jackie said. "There is something there at the edge of the clearing. Can't tell what it is yet, but it is either a helicopter or a vehicle of some sort."

I trained the binoculars on the object. After another minute I was sure. "Yep, it is definitely a helicopter, and it is the color of those I saw at Morton's former employer."

Jackie lowered the helicopter towards the clearing. She put the machine into a hover about 200 meters from the helicopter on the ground. It appeared intact and showed no evidence of a crash. Jackie brought us about a hundred meters closer. Then the helicopter touched down on the ground.

"I'll shut down, and we'll have a look," Jackie said.

"Think he is close by?" I said.

"Doubtful. This close to town, I'm sure that is where he went."

"It's a bit further out than I'd have expected," I said.

"Might have had to land before he planned to," Jackie said. "Let's go."

We both got out of the cockpit. The main rotors were still slowly turning, and by instinct, we ducked our heads until we were well clear. Glancing at Jackie, I saw that she was holding a pistol in her hand.

"Where did you get that?" I said.

"I keep in the bird. You said Morton was a desperate criminal. I'd rather have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

"Good idea," I said.

"Aren't you armed?" Jackie said.

"No," I said. "I had a pistol when I arrived in Hawaii but lost it. Long story."

"Then it's not a good idea, but a great idea I brought mine."

As we approached the helicopter, I saw "Oahu Air Tours" on the fuselage. We had the right helicopter.

"Look at that," Jackie said. I followed her finger to the tail of the helicopter.

"See the paint near the tail rotor?" Jackie said.

"Yep, it looks scorched."

"Exactly," Jackie said. "It's been very hot. The bearings cratered and forced Morton down here."

"That explains why it's here and not close to town," I said.

"Yes, it does."

We took a look inside the helicopter but failed to find anything of interest. Because the grass and vegetation were thick, there were no tracks. There was no sign of which direction Morton had gone after landing the craft.

"Since he has money, I bet that he walked into town from here," Jackie said.

"Then I suppose we should head there," I said. "You can drop me at the airport and return to Oahu when you're ready."

"I thought I'd hang out with you," Jackie said.

"Why?"

"This is exciting," Jackie said. "Hunting down a criminal and all. I don't have anything scheduled. If a client calls, I have my phone."

"What if we don't find Morton today," I said. "I'd have to overnight here."

"No problem. There are places we can stay. It's pricey, but I don't mind doubling up. Cheaper for you to get us a room anyway. It will cost less than paying flight time for me to return to Oahu and then back to pick you up when you finish here."

"They have hotels here?" I said.

"Sure. There is a hotel in town and a large resort on the outskirts. Where do you think Morton is staying? We could run right into him."

"Not sure," I said. "Best check both places I suppose. He could be at either, assuming he isn't staying with an acquaintance in a private house somewhere."

"Then let's fly to the airport. We can rent a car and then go into town and ask around. You have a photo of Morton?"

"Yes, I have a flyer the Honolulu police prepared that has his photo on it," I said.

"Cool," Jackie said. "Let's get going."

We walked back to the helicopter. Jackie started it up, and we headed for the airport in Lanai City.

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# Chapter 25

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A REPRESENTATIVE AT the airport information desk put me on to a local car hire service. He said the service had used four-wheel drive Jeeps available at reasonable rates. I phoned them, and they dispatched a driver to pick Jackie and me up from the airport.

At the service, I hired a late-model Jeep Wrangler. The agent assured me the vehicle was up to the challenge of any of the Lanai roads, come rain or shine.

With transportation sorted, we drove into the city. We had decided it best to plan on spending at least one night in town. We found the downtown hotel that Jackie had mentioned. It wasn't quite what I'd expected. It was a lovely older property that offered plantation-style rooms. The desk clerk told us that the hotel was a restored plantation home. She explained a pineapple company built it to house company executives in 1923.

While Jackie had been kind enough to offer to double up to save me money, I thought she deserved her privacy. So, I paid for two rooms even though they were as pricey as Jackie had warned me they would be.

I showed Morton's photo to the desk clerk, with the flyer folded to conceal the context. She didn't recognize him and said he wasn't registered as a guest at the hotel. We weren't surprised. That would have been too easy.

After checking in, Jackie went to her room to change out of her flight suit. She had a small overnight bag with a change of clothes that she said she always kept in the helicopter. She returned after a bit wearing jeans and a surfer tee. We spent the afternoon canvassing the shops and businesses in town. We asked the townspeople for information on Morton. We failed to meet anyone who claimed to recognize his photo. No one recalled seeing him in town. We gave up around four in the afternoon and returned to the hotel. Since we hadn't had lunch, we decided to have an early dinner at the onsite bar & grille.

The menu was quite impressive. We both had the fresh fish which was very nice and cooked to perfection.

"It's a bit disappointing that we didn't find anyone in town who has seen or even heard of Adam Morton," I said.

"He may be staying at the resort I told you about," Jackie said. "That would explain why no one has seen him in town."

"That's true. As a rule, resorts are self-sufficient so there would be no need for Morton to visit the town," I said.

"We can relax this evening, get some sleep tonight, and then check out the resort tomorrow," Jackie said.

"Yep, sounds like a plan," I said.

The server returned with the check, and I handed her my card. The server returned with the receipt for me to sign. She encouraged us to return later that evening for cocktails and the live music on the outdoor patio. Both she promised were excellent.

"I'm up for it if you are," Jackie said. "Never hurts to have a little fun."

"Yep, after a rest and a shower, having some drinks would be good," I said.

We left the bar & grille and walked to our rooms. Before going our separate ways, we agreed to meet up at my room at seven to return to the bar & grille.

Inside my room, I went to the bathroom to tidy up a bit before taking a nap. I discovered the bathroom window was open. I thought that was a bit random because the air conditioning was on. I closed the window. Then he spoke.

"Hello, O'Sullivan. Long time no see."

I turned around to see Adam Morton standing in the bathroom doorway. He had a self-satisfied grin on his face and a semi-automatic in his hand.

"Adam Morton," I said. "You still lurking about?"

"You could say that," Morton said. "I heard you've been showing my photo around town and asking questions. I grew up here and still have friends in town."

"Yep, I was looking for you," I said. "You saved me a bit of trouble by coming to me. Thanks for that."

"You won't be thanking me when you find out what I have planned for you," Morton said. "I've got to hand it to you, O'Sullivan. You are one persistent bitch."

"Thanks for noticing," I said.

"We're going out the door and then left to the side of the building," Morton said. "I parked a truck there." Morton tossed me a key. "And you're going to drive."

"That didn't work out so well the last time we did that," I said.

"True, but there isn't a single traffic light on this whole island so we won't have a problem with any red lights this time."

"Where we going?" I said.

"You'll find out when we get there," Morton said. "And don't do anything to draw attention to us when we walk out of the room. You do, and you're dead. Now let's go."

I wasn't in any position to argue, so I walked to the door. I opened it and walked outside with Morton close behind me. We turned left and walked to a small carpark on the side of the hotel. There was a green Toyota ute parked there.

"Get in," Morton said.

Once I was behind the wheel, Morton got in on the other side. He kept the pistol pointed at me.

"Start the truck and drive. Make a right out of the parking lot and follow the road out of town."

I started the ute, put it in gear, and drove out of the carpark. I turned right and followed the road. The pavement ended at the edge of town. The road became a rough dirt track. We kept going. I looked at the odometer from time to time to see how far we had traveled. It read in miles instead of kilometers, but at least it gave me an idea of the distance. After 8 miles, Morton spoke.

"There will be a road on the left coming up. Turn on the road when we get there. A few minutes later the road appeared, and I turned the ute onto the road and kept driving. The road narrowed and became rougher with thick trees and underbrush on both sides. After a little less than 2 miles, we came to a clearing and a weathered wood frame hut.

"Stop here and turn off the ignition," Morton said.

I stopped the ute and turned off the engine.

"Now give me the key," Morton said. I handed it to him. He pocketed it.

"What now?" I said.

"I'm getting out, but you stay in the truck until I tell you to get out," Morton said.

Morton opened the door and walked around the front of the ute to my open window.

"Twist your body until your back is to me," Morton said. "Then put the palms of your hands on the roof of the truck and keep them there. I did, hoping to avoid him bashing me on the head again.

Once I was in position, Morton put a scarf or something, over my eyes. I could feel him knotting it at the back of my head. Unable to see now, my position became more precarious.

"You can take your hands off the roof," Morton said. "Now take your clothes off, all your clothes."

"I won't," I said. Rage was starting to build in me, along with a bit of panic. "You're mad if you think I will."

"Listen to me, O'Sullivan," Morton said. His voice was menacing. "The clothes are coming off. You can take them off yourself, or I'm going to drag you out of the truck and beat you senseless. Then I'll take them off myself."

I felt conflicted. The interior of the ute and the blindfold restricted movement. It was unlikely I could mount an effective attack on Morton without getting shot or bashed. But I wasn't keen to disrobe for him. Morton spoke again.

"I'm only taking your clothes to make escape more difficult," Morton said. "Don't flatter yourself, O'Sullivan. I don't intend to rape you. Cooperate and save yourself a beating."

I decided to cooperate for the time being. Another head injury wasn't something I was keen to experience. Cooperating with Morton now meant he wouldn't hurt me yet. That allowed me something of a chance to fight back and escape later. I pulled the singlet I was wearing off over my head. I kicked off the trainers I was wearing and shimmied out of the cargo pants. Then I sat still.

"The underwear too," Morton said. "Take them off, or I'll cut them off."

Swallowing hard, I tried to maintain control. With reluctance, I removed my bra and then the undies.

"Very good, O'Sullivan," Morton said. "You saved us both a lot of trouble. Now get on your knees in the seat facing the window and extend your hands out with your wrists together."

Now he's going to bind my wrists. I'd gone along with him thus far. So, I got my knees under me and used my hands to find the window. I extended my hands with my wrists touching. I wanted to give the appearance of compliance. But now I intended to gain a bit of an edge for later. I closed my hands in fists with my knuckles pointed toward the sound of Morton's voice. I pressed my fingers together. I pulled my elbows to my sides and kept my wrists as close to my stomach as I could without appearing to resist. I felt rope on my wrists. Morton made several wraps around my wrists and then tied off the rope. Morton made the rope tight and the binding secure, but the way I had presented my wrists created a gap between them. Later, when I relaxed the rope would be a bit looser than Morton intended. I hoped that would make me able to free my hands.

"Very good, O'Sullivan," Morton said. He sounded satisfied. "See how much better it is when you're cooperative. Now you can get out of the truck. We're going to go into the house and have a talk."

I heard the door of the ute opening. Morton took me by the upper arm and hauled me out of the ute onto my feet. I wasn't a prude by any stretch of the imagination. Still, I felt mortified at being bound and nude in the presence of Morton. There was the rancid taste of bile in my throat. At the moment I was at his mercy and had never felt so helpless. I felt dirt under my bare feet as he pushed me forward.

"Take a step up," Morton said. When I did, I felt the surface under my feet change from dirt to rough wood. After several steps, Morton yanked my arm bringing me to full stop. I heard a key going into a lock and then heard the squeak of old hinges as a door opened. Morton tugged on my arm, and I stumbled a bit, tripping over the door threshold. Morton's grip on my arm kept me upright. Even with the blindfold, I knew we were inside the hut I'd seen earlier. I sensed we were no longer in sunlight. Morton guided me forward a few more steps. He pulled me to a stop and then let go of my arm.

"Stand there," he said. I sensed him moving away. I heard something scrape across the wooden floor and then a creaking sound. Morton had sat down on a chair. It seemed I was to remain standing.

"Now we can have that talk," Morton said.

"Why did you kill Kathleen and Allison?" I said.

"I didn't have any choice. If I had released them, they were going to go to the police. They were going to say I kidnapped Allison for the ransom, that is was all my idea. They were going to say Allison managed to escape, but then I showed up at their house and kidnapped them both. It would have been my word against that of two rich bitches. Who do you think the police would have believed? I'd have lost the money, and I wasn't going to let that happen."

"It's only a matter of time before the police get you," I said. "You're a murderer. They will never stop looking for you."

"I have a plan for that," Morton said. "That's what I need you for, O'Sullivan."

"Me?" I said. "You think holding me hostage will dissuade the police?"

Morton laughed. "That's not the plan at all. I need someone else for the murders. That's where you come in, O'Sullivan."

"Me?" I said. "How do you propose to shift the blame to me?"

"Easy," Morton said. "You're going to write out a confession for the police. You're going to tell them you killed Allison and Kathleen for the ransom money. The police will have to take your word for it. Everyone is dead now that knows the story except for you and me."

In spite of my predicament, I laughed out loud. "You are mad, Morton. Not everyone is dead. Ken is still alive, and I know he was in on the scheme."

"You're right, O'Sullivan. Almost everyone then, but I have time to take care of Ken. And, yes he was in on it. Ken and I have known each other a long time. He is the one who recruited me to help Allison pull off the fake kidnapping."

"The other thing is that I'd never write out the bloody confession for you, rat bastard."

"I'm going to change your mind and you will, O'Sullivan," Morton said. "I saw you and your new friend at the hotel. I've seen her before. She's a pilot. Jackie something isn't it?"

"She isn't involved in this, Morton," I said. "I only hired her to fly me here to look for you."

"Then I'm sure you don't want Jackie to get hurt," Morton said. "As a little encouragement, in a few minutes, I'm going back to town to snatch Jackie from the hotel. I'm going to bring her here. Then you are going to write that confession. If you refuse, I'm going to take off your blindfold. Then I'm going to hurt Jackie while you watch until you decide to cooperate."

"You're filth, Morton," I said, utter filth."

"Sticks and stones, O'Sullivan, sticks and stones," Morton said. "You think I give a damn what your opinion of me is?"

"Say I write out the confession," I said. "What then? Will you leave Jackie alone? Will you let us go?"

"None of that matters," Morton said. "All you need to know is this, O'Sullivan. If you don't write the confession, I'll kill your friend while you watch. And, I'll drag it out as long as possible so that she suffers. Then when I'm finished with Jackie, I'll do the same to you. If I don't get off the hook for the first two murders, a couple more won't make any difference."

I knew two things. I'd write the bloody confession before I'd allow Morton to hurt Jackie. But, I couldn't give in yet. I also knew he intended to kill us both after I wrote it. It didn't take much imagination. I reckoned he would shoot me in the head and stage it to look like a suicide. He'd leave the gun with my body that he used to kill the Shaw women with for the police to find. The police might believe it. They would keep pursuing Morton and arrest him if they found him. But, the confession might be enough to get him off. He would dump Jackie's body somewhere on the island where no one would find her. Even if I wrote the confession out now, he'd still go after Jackie because he didn't know how much she knew about all this."

"I won't write any confession, Morton," I said. "It seems you will have to carry out your threats."

"You'll change your mind when I get back with Jackie," Morton said. "But, first I've got to make sure you will still be here when we arrive."

I heard the chair creaking again as Morton stood up. I sensed him walking behind me. I felt another bit of rope sliding between my wrists. The rat bastard pressed his body tight against my bum while he worked. It became clear that he was tying more rope to that on my wrists. Once he finished, he stepped away from me. I heard the sound of rope dragged across something. My wrists went up above my head. Morton pulled on the rope hoisting my body upwards until I was standing on my toes. Then the hoisting stopped, and I heard Morton working with the rope, tying if off I expected.

"There that should hold you until I return with Jackie," Morton said. "I'm afraid it will be a little uncomfortable for you. Better hope I'm not gone long."

"Piss off," I said.

Morton laughed again. "A bitch to the last. But you know O'Sullivan, I have to admit you have a great body. I'm a little turned on looking at you."

"Fuck off, you perverted bastard," I said.

Morton laughed again. I'm leaving. I'll be back in about an hour with Jackie, then I'll give you the chance to write that confession. If you don't, then we'll all have a little fun."

I heard Morton's footsteps on the wooden floor. The door opened and then slammed shut. I heard the ute start up outside and the sound of the tyres on dirt as it drove away. He had left me in a bit of a mess.

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# Chapter 26

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MY ARMS AND SHOULDERS were already fatigued to the point of pain. I was feeling more self-loathing. Why had I stripped without a fight instead of making Morton knock me unconscious? But there was no time for a pity party. I had act. I had to free myself now before the fatigue became worse and rendered me helpless.

I felt there had been enough slack to allow me to slip my hands out of the rope before Morton had hoisted me up. But now the rope around my wrists was in a bind, and too tight for me to slip my hands out. I first had to remove that bind before I'd be able to do anything else. I grabbed hold of the rope suspended from the ceiling. I hoped I'd be able to climb the rope until I could grasp the beam or whatever Morton had suspended it from above me. With my wrists tied, I was only able to get the thumbs and a couple of fingers of each hand around the rope. I gripped the rope as hard as I could and tried to lift myself up.

Progress was scant at best. It seemed I was moving up only a millimeter at a time. But, the bind on the rope around my wrists was starting to lessen a bit. As the bind relaxed, I was able to move up the rope a bit further with each new grip. I kept going. After what seemed like an eternity, my fingertips touched rough wood. I reckoned the ceiling must be the open type with exposed beams. I wanted to try and grab hold of the beam. If I could only pull myself up, and get on top of the beam, I was sure I'd be able to slip my hands out of the rope. But, I couldn't work out how to let go of the rope to do it without falling back down.

As I clung to the rope the fatigue and pain in my arms and shoulders got worse and worse. I knew I couldn't hang here much longer. Then I lost my grip and fell.

The next minute I was on the floor moaning. My knees hurt like hell. I must have landed on them. I was laying on my right side on the floor. As the pain subsided, I realized my hands were free. Falling a meter or more must have been enough force to snatch my hands out of the rope. Things hadn't gone as planned, but I had sorted it. I was free. I reached up and pulled the blindfold off.

The interior of the hut was dusty and a mess. Someone must have abandoned it before Morton moved in. I pushed myself up off the floor with care. My knees still hurt. When I was on my feet, I looked down and saw I'd scraped both when I fell. Both were bleeding a bit. But, I found I could walk and walking seemed to help a bit. The interior of the hut was one open room. There was a small bed in one corner with sheets and a blanket on it. There was an ancient cook stove in what served as the kitchen area. There were cardboard boxes stacked along one wall. I saw something familiar on the floor next to the bed. I went for a closer look. It was the backpack that Morton had taken from me in my hotel room. I picked it up. It was empty now. Where was the money? Was it with him in the ute?

After opening several of the boxes, I accepted the money wasn't in any of them. Some held books, some clothing, and some other personal belongings. The boxes I surmised had been here when Morton arrived, not stuff he had brought with him. I looked about for a weapon. There were no knives in the kitchen, and none of the handguns from the backpack Morton had taken off me. There was an ancient wardrobe against one wall. I looked in all the drawers which were empty except the bottom one. It contained an old claw hammer with a wooden handle. That it seemed was as close to a weapon as I'd get.

At the back of the hut, there was another door. I walked to it and found it locked. I turned the lock and opened the door. In back I saw a worn dirt footpath. It led into thick stands of trees and underbrush like that I'd seen on the side of the road when I'd driven Morton here. The footpath disappeared after entering the trees. I walked down the cement steps and followed the footpath. It made twists and turns through the bush whenever it encountered large trees. I followed it for about twenty or thirty meters. Something off the right side of the footpath caught my eye. I walked toward it and found a spot of freshly turned dirt. Did Morton bury the money here? The diggings bore further investigation. But, not now. It would have to wait. I followed the footpath back to the hut.

Back inside, I went to one of the boxes I'd opened and searched before. I'd found some fishing equipment in it. I was already organizing a plan, and there was something in the box that I wanted. I pulled out two spools of monofilament line. One spool was bright orange line. The other was a light blue line. It was near transparent. I started back towards the door with the fishing line, intent on visiting the footpath again. But, I stopped. I heard a vehicle. The engine was getting louder which told me it was approaching. Was Morton returning already? Had I gone unconscious after the fall? It seemed Morton hadn't been gone for more than a quarter hour. I didn't have the time to put my plan into action. I'd have to change the plan.

I hurried over to a kitchen bench, dropped the fishing line on it, and picked up the hammer I'd found. I hurried back to the front door. I put my back to the wall to the side of it, the side where the door would conceal me from view when Morton opened it. I glanced at the back door. Good, I had left it open.

Morton would see I was no longer hanging where he left me the instant he opened the front door. Then he would see the open back door and assume I'd done a runner. With luck, he would hurry through the front door towards the back, and I'd have my chance with the hammer. My stomach was in knots when I heard the ute stop out front and the engine switch off. I held my breath. I heard footsteps on the wooden porch. I watched the doorknob turning. It seemed Morton hadn't locked it when he left earlier. The door started to open. It swung open then, but not far enough to touch me where I stood behind it. Morton didn't seem to be in a rush at all. He must see I was no longer suspended from the ceiling beam and the open back door. But for a long while, there was no movement at all. Then I saw it.

The gun came into view from behind the open door. I could see the hand gripping it, but nothing more. I decided to wait until Morton's wrist appeared and then I would bash it with the hammer. With luck it would break the wrist and Morton would drop the gun. With luck, I'd be able to snatch it up from the floor before the shock wore off. I raised the hammer over my head, ready to bring it down with all the force I could muster. I waited ready to pounce. The wrist appeared, and I started my downward swing. But, then I noticed something odd. The wrist. It wasn't a man's wrist. It had registered only a fraction of a second before I'd struck. Then a woman came into view from behind the door. It was Jackie.

"Jackie it's me!" I said. Jackie whirled toward me with the gun pointed at my chest. Only afterward did I realize how close I'd come to her shooting me. She was as frightened as I was when I shouted. Then she recognized me.

"T. J. what the hell?" Jackie said. "Why are you naked?"

I reached out and grabbed her in a hug, stifling a sob. "My god, I'm so happy to see you."

We embraced for several moments. I struggled to regain my composure, and Jackie struggled as much to recover from the fright I'd given her. After several minutes we let go of each other.

"Morton made me strip before tying me up," I said. "He reckoned it less likely I'd do a runner while nude. My clothes are in the ute he's driving. For fuck's sake, Jackie. How did you find me?"

"He didn't think you would run away while naked? He must have never seen one of those slasher movies. Anyway, I remembered something I wanted to tell you after we split up to go to our rooms," Jackie said. "I was on my way to your room when I saw you come out your door with a man behind you. I didn't have a good look at him, but I feared it was Morton, so I stayed hidden behind a corner. I watched you both walking away. I could tell by your body language something was wrong. Once you reached the parking lot at the side of the hotel, I moved that way. Then I got a good look at the man's face when he got in the Toyota on the passenger side. I recognized Morton, and I saw the gun."

"Did you follow us?" I said.

"Yes. I ran back to your room and found the Jeep keys. I then ran to where we had left it. I took off the direction I'd seen you drive away in. When I got to the edge of town, I could tell from the dust clouds that you had continued straight on the road and I followed. I stayed well back so I wouldn't tip Morton off that I was following. I didn't have to see the truck, I had only to follow the dust cloud."

"You saw us turn off on the road to this hut?" I said.

"No, I didn't," Jackie said. I missed the turn and drove right on past the road to this place. Once I realized there was no longer a dust cloud to follow, I realized you must have turned off. But, by then I'd passed several roads and didn't know which you had taken. I tried several, but they didn't seem to lead to anything. By process of elimination, I found the road leading here. It was the shortest road and led to a structure, so I hoped I'd found where Morton had taken you."

"You're awesome," I said. "Thanks so much."

"Where is Morton now?" Jackie said.

"He went back to town to abduct you and bring you here," I said. "I was so frightened for you."

"How did you free yourself?" Jackie said.

"I'll tell you all about it later," I said. "By now Morton has discovered you're not at the hotel and that the Jeep is gone. He'll know that because he had been watching us or someone he knows was. He'll hurry back here."

"So, let's get the hell out of here and call the police," Jackie said.

"No, I have something else in mind for Morton," I said. "Let me have your gun. Then go get the Jeep and hide it in the trees somewhere. Make sure it is out of sight."

Jackie seemed to think about it for a moment, but then she handed me the pistol butt first. "What are you going to do?" Jackie said.

"I'm going to lay a trap for Morton out back," I said. "After you hide the Jeep, come back to the hut. Hide somewhere and keep watch so you can alert me if you see him returning. Once I have things organized, I'll come get you and explain the plan."

"Okay," Jackie said. She jogged toward the Jeep.

I closed the front door and hurried back to the kitchen bench. I retrieved the fishing line and then went out the back leaving the door standing open. My hands were full, so I tossed the hammer into the brush. I jogged down the footpath until I'd made three of the turns and came to a straightaway. I stopped there and put the gun on the ground. I tied the bright orange fishing line to the trunk of a tree on one side of the path. Then I spooled off more line while backing across the footpath to the other side. There I ran the line around another tree trunk and pulled it taut. I tied off the line in a secure knot the way my dad had taught me years before. I had a taut length of monofilament line stretched across the footpath. It was about 25 centimeters above the ground. It was the perfect height to trip someone up running full on up the footpath. The orange line was very visible in the sunlight. Perfect.

I moved about a meter and a half up the footpath from the orange monofilament line. I tied the light blue fishing line to another tree. This time the line was at about one meter, seventy-five above ground level. I spooled out the line as I backed across the footpath. I looped the line around another tree at the same height. I pulled it taut and tied it off with secure knots. Now I had a second taut line suspended at what I reckoned was about chin high for a person of Morton's height. Unlike the orange line, the light blue line was near invisible. Well done.

I ran back along the pathway to the hut, taking care to skip over the orange fishing line. It was then that I noticed the spade leaning against the back of the hut. Indeed, Morton had been doing some digging. I found Jackie at a front corner of the hut. From there she could see Morton's vehicle approaching when he returned.

"It's all sorted," I said. "Now, here is the plan."

I explained the plan fast but gave her all the details. "Don't forget, Jackie. The first line is bright orange and just beyond the third turn of the footpath. Be sure to skip over it and then duck right away, so you aren't caught by the second line. And then keep running straight away until I shout all clear."

"I don't like the part about getting naked," Jackie said. "Why do I have to take my clothes off too?"

"Because when you take off from the back door as Morton comes through the front, I want him to see a flash of a bare bum," I said. "That will motivate him to give chase. He'll think you're me."

"But our bodies are nothing alike, and your hair is blond," Jackie said.

"It won't matter," I said. "Morton will be so surprised I'm loose that only the flash of a naked female bum he will be expecting to see will register, and he will chase after you."

"Assuming he doesn't shoot me in the back instead," Jackie said.

"He won't," I said. "I explained that. He wants me alive for a reason, and he won't shoot. He will want to catch me. Besides, I doubt he will even have the gun out when he opens the front door. He won't have a clue I managed to free myself, and he won't expect you to be here."

"Okay, okay," Jackie said. She started pulling the surfer tee off over her head. Next came the jeans and then the bra. She slipped her undies off, and we were both starkers. I didn't feel so alone anymore. "This is like being at a freaking nudist colony," Jackie said.

"Stop grumbling," I said. "Besides, nudists don't call them colonies any longer. I'm going to my hide position beside the footpath. You keep watching here until you see Morton driving up. Then go stand in the back doorway with your arse facing the front until he opens the door. Then scream and run like hell."

"Got it," Jackie said, not looking at me. It seemed she had gone shy. I took off for the footpath.

It seemed like no more than five minutes had passed when I heard the ute approaching. The engine noise rose and fell as it negotiated the rough track leading to the hut. Later, in hindsight, it would seem fortunate that Morton returned when he did. Sitting beside the trail, I was starting to feel guilty. I was putting Jackie at great risk for one reason. I wanted to get the money back. I was about to run back to the hut and make a run for the Jeep with Jackie when I heard Morton approaching in the ute. It was spilt milk now. The plan was in motion.

I heard the engine of the ute switch off. Then moments later I heard Jackie scream and Morton cursing. Next minute I saw Jackie's naked bum whiz past me on the footpath. Then I saw Morton. He vaulted the low orange fishing line. He looked as if he was starting to laugh when the near invisible second fishing line caught him. It caught him beneath the chin. What happened next was a textbook illustration of Newton's first law of motion. "An object in motion stays in motion. It continues with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force."

When Morton hit the fishing line, both his feet shot straight out in front of him. Both legs went parallel to the ground. He then fell hard to the ground on his back. I even heard the whoosh of air rush from his lungs when he hit. He dropped the gun he was holding when he hit the ground, and it landed on the footpath about a meter away from him. The moment his feet went out from under him, I sprang from hiding. I took up a two-handed shooting position on the footpath in front of him. I started to walk to him to pick up the fallen pistol, but as I took the first step, Morton raised up on his elbows. He looked disoriented and was struggling for breath. But, his eyes darted towards the pistol on the ground.

"Don't," I said. "I'll shoot you if you try it." We locked eyes for a moment. Then Morton lunged for the weapon. I shot him, twice. Once in the chest and once in the head. He fell back, his open eyes staring at the sky. Time seemed to stop for a moment. The sound of the shots rang in my ears. Then I realized Jackie was standing beside me.

"You killed him," Jackie said.

"I did," I said. "Morton intended to kill us, both of us. And I reckoned he planned to do worse to us than that before he did. Besides, he didn't leave me any choice. He tried to pick up his weapon."

"Now what?" Jackie said.

"First, I'm going to put my clothes back on," I said. "Then I have some digging to do."

"We're going to bury him?" Jackie said.

"No, I'm digging something up he buried," I said. "Then we will call the police. Let's get dressed and I'll explain everything."

"At least he died happy I guess," Jackie said.

I turned to look at her. She had an impish grin on her lips. "Why do you say that?" I said.

"Well, he did get one more look at you in all your naked glory as he died," Jackie said. "Even as a woman, a straight chick at that, I have to admit you're pretty hot with your clothes off."

We both laughed. Likely not appropriate under the circumstances. But I attributed it a bit of gallows humor motivated by the extreme stress we'd been under. We walked back to the hut, retrieved our clothes, and got dressed. While we did that, I told Jackie about the money. I told her how there was a quarter-million more of it than the police knew about and why. Then I told her about the fresh spaded dirt I'd seen off the side of the footpath.

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# Chapter 27

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AS I TOSSED ANOTHER spade full of dirt aside, Jackie spoke up again. "What if he buried a body here?"

"A body?" I said.

"Yes, maybe he killed the person the shack belongs to."

"Your imagination is running amuck, Jackie. Besides this is too small for a grave. I'm sure he only buried the money here."

"What are you going to do with the money?"

I stopped digging and leaned on the spade. "I'm turning over $750,000 of it to the police. They already know about it."

"But, you said there was another $250,000 that the police don't know about."

"Right, I haven't mentioned that to the authorities," I said.

"So, what are you going to do with the extra money."

"I'm keeping it," I said.

"But, isn't that stealing?"

"One could look at that way," I said. "But I prefer not to look at it that way. The owners of the money are all dead. It would only go to the State of Hawaii if I turned it over to the authorities."

"Let me see if I understand it then," Jackie said. "It belongs to the State of Hawaii, but you're keeping it. That still sounds like stealing to me."

"Look, Jackie," I said. "Douglas Shaw had great affection for me. I'm certain that if he were alive and had an opinion, he'd much rather I got the money than the State of Hawaii. After all the state is getting his entire estate on top of the $750,000."

"But you said he was a filthy predator and that you would never have slept with him," Jackie said.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I said.

"I'm not so sure he would have wanted you to have the money," Jackie said, "that's all."

"You're starting to annoy, Jackie," I said. "Can't we chat about something else."

"Like what? We are digging up the money after all."

"Well, how about this," I said. "Since you brought it up earlier, it has to be said. You look very hot naked as well."

Jackie grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment, even coming from another woman."

"Well, it's true," I said.

Jackie's grin faded, and she turned serious. "You aren't gay are you?"

"For fuck's sake," I said. "No one ever asked me that in my entire life until I arrived in Hawaii. Now you're the second person to ask me. No, I'm not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with it."

Jackie's grin returned. "All right then. I only wanted to be sure you weren't hitting on me. I prefer men and don't want you to feel that I am leading you on."

"For fuck's sake!" I said. "Are you trying to wind me up?"

Jackie laughed. "Yes, I was messing with you. Guilty as charged. And thanks for the compliment. There's nothing wrong with one woman complimenting another."

"True enough," I said. I started digging again. After removing another half meter of the earth, the spade struck something with the sound of metal on metal.

Jackie and I both got on our knees beside the hole I'd dug. We used our hands to pull more dirt from the hole, and we found a cache of green metal ammunition boxes. We pulled them out of the ground, one by one. There were eight of them. I flipped the latch on one of the boxes and pulled open the lid. The box was lined with a black plastic refuse bag. I opened the bag, and we saw that the box contained stacks of banded one hundred dollar bills.

"We found it," I said.

"I've never seen so much money at one time," Jackie said.

"Now that we've found it, there is something else we need to chat about," I said.

"What?"

I want to make you a proposal, but feel free to refuse it if you aren't interested," I said.

"Okay, let's hear the proposal," Jackie said. "But, remember I'm straight."

"You should be a stand up comic instead of wasting your life flying helicopters," I said.

"Okay, T. J., okay," Jackie said. "I'll shut up. Tell me what you're thinking."

"All right," I said. "How would you feel about a business partnership?"

"A partnership?" Jackie said. "You don't fly helicopters."

"No," I said. "But if we formed a partnership each of us might be able to steer business to the other. If I heard of anyone looking for helicopter transportation, I'd refer them to you. If you heard of anyone looking for a private investigator, you'd refer them to me."

"And you'd expect us to split all the profits?"

"No, that wouldn't be fair," I said. "I don't have enough to invest in your aviation company at the moment to make it a fifty-fifty arrangement. But, this is my proposal. I'd put $100,000 into the company account. You can determine what percent of your assets that represented. I'd receive that percentage of the profits as a return on my investment."

"And I could use the $100,000 for operations?" Jackie said.

"Yes, of course. You could use it as you please."

"To be honest, I could use a cash injection like that right now," Jackie said. "My business has been off for a while, and fuel prices have been through the roof. I've had no idea how I was going to afford to pay for the 2200 hour engine overhaul on my bird that is due in six weeks. But why would you want to go partners with me when you live in LA?"

"I'm planning to stay in Hawaii," I said. "I'm going to get licensed as a PI in Hawaii and start my own shop here."

"You are? That's great. I was already dreading you going back to the mainland. I think we'd make great friends. And I could help you with other cases when I'm not flying."

"Exactly," I said. "And, I was hoping that you might consider letting me have office space at your place for a while. Until I start getting clients, I can't afford to lease space of my own, and it seems you have the room for another desk."

"For sure, no problem," Jackie said. "I'd like that. I wouldn't even charge you rent."

"Oh no," I said. "I'd contribute to your monthly lease payments. That's only fair. Do you feel your other pilots would be all right with the arrangement?"

"Other pilots? What other pilots?"

"When we met you said you were the owner and chief pilot," I said.

Jackie laughed. "Chief pilot and only pilot, since dad retired. I tell prospective clients that to impress them."

I laughed at that. "I see, it's a marketing ploy."

"Exactly," Jackie said.

"Sounds like we can work a deal then," I said.

"Of course," Jackie said. "I'm glad you mentioned it. I'm excited about the idea."

"Oh, and one other thing," I said. "For helping bring Adam Morton to justice, and helping to recover the money, I'm giving you $25,000 of the money as a reward."

"Oh no, that's too much," Jackie said. "You can pay for the flying hours here, and that's plenty. You've been my first paying client in almost two weeks. I'll even give you another five percent discount for paying cash."

"No, I insist you take the $25,000," I said. "You've earned it. Also, I don't want you to think I'm taking this money because I'm some terrible greedy person. I want to relocate to Hawaii for some personal reasons, and I'm not flush with cash at the moment. I need a stake, and I can put this money to better use than the state would."

"Well, thanks, T. J., you're so generous," Jackie said.

"It isn't generosity, actually," I said. "It's only fairness. Like I said, you earned a bonus. You said you thought we'd become great friends. It seems to me we've already made a good start on that. And I'm always up for sharing my good fortune with my mates."

"Okay, T. J. you have to stop," Jackie said. "You'll get me all teary."

"Ahkay, no worries," I said. "Let's get this money into the hut. It's getting dark."

It took four trips to carry all the cans into the hut. There was no electricity, but we found a gas lantern that Morton had been using. We removed the money from the ammunition cans and counted it. We put $750,000 back into the backpack it had come from. There was $240,000 and change left over. I'd spent a few hundred on expenses before Morton took the money off me and it seemed he had spent some too. Still, I was happy enough for the haul we'd made. I found a nylon stuff sack that Morton had been using for dirty laundry and emptied it. I put the extra cash in it.

Afterward, we stacked the empty ammunition cans in a corner. Jackie found a torch in the hut and we returned to the hole. I tossed some refuse from the hut into the hole, and then we refilled it. If someone found the hole and excavated it, I wanted them to see it as only a refuse dump. We walked about 100 meters further up the footpath, and I tossed the spade into the bush. Then we returned to the hut.

"Time to call the police?" Jackie said.

"No, not from here," I said. "We'll go back to the hotel and call them from there. When they arrive, we'll tell them the story and turn over the $750,000. We'll tell how to find this place and Morton's body. With luck, the police will allow us to go to the station to give our formal statements in the morning. That will give me the chance for a catch up with the Honolulu police detective that's been on the case. He might want to come to Lanai tomorrow to wrap up his end of the investigation."

"Works for me," Jackie said. "I'll carry the backpack. Let's go get the Jeep."

I grabbed the torch, and extinguished the lantern. We walked to the Jeep and Jackie drove us back to the hotel. After arriving, we went to our respective rooms and tidied up. Once Jackie had returned to my room, I rang the police.

"Remember, if the police ask you about the money, we found it in the hut in the backpack," I said. "Don't mention anything about digging up the ammunition cans."

"Got it," Jackie said.

Waiting for the police, we continued discussing plans for our joint business venture.

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# Chapter 28

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TWO FEMALE UNIFORMED officers arrived first. The one in charge told us that they had orders to separate us. One of them escorted Jackie back to her room. The other stayed with me. A stocky Hawaiian who looked to be in his forties arrived. He introduced himself as Detective Sam Kawasaki.

It didn't take long for me to realize that Kawasaki wasn't there to elicit information from a crime victim. The meeting was more of an interrogation. He kept asking the same questions trying to find holes in my story. I knew the other detective was doing the same thing to Jackie. Then they would compare notes. I tried not to allow Kawasaki to wind me up.

"You said the deceased threatened you with a gun and that's when you shot him," Kawasaki said.

"That's right," I said.

"Where did you get the gun you shot him with?"

"I told you, detective, I got it off, Ms. Fitzgerald."

"Does she have a permit to carry a firearm?"

"You will have to ask her about that," I said. "I haven't a clue."

"Why did you take her gun? Were you planning to kill the deceased when he returned?"

"No, I wasn't. But, I knew what Adam Morton was like. He made it clear that he intended to kill Ms. Fitzgerald and me. I was in fear for our lives. I took the gun because if a shooting occurred, I didn't want her involved in it."

"You must have been angry about him making you strip for him and for tying you up," Kawasaki said. "You sure you didn't kill him because you wanted a little payback."

"I'm sure," I said.

"Where did you find the money?" Kawasaki said.

"In the hut inside the backpack it was in when Morton took it off me in Honolulu," I said.

"And you're sure all the money is there?"

"No, it's not like we counted it," I said. "We grabbed the backpack after the confrontation with Morton. Then we came back here and called the police."

"You took the money, but you left the gun you alleged the deceased threatened you with beside his body?"

"Yes, I was a police constable once," I said. "I didn't want to disturb the crime scene."

"That wasn't smart," Kawasaki said. "Especially since you and Fitzgerald left the scene. What if someone had taken the gun. That's the only evidence you have to support your story of self-defense."

"Like I said, I didn't want to disturb the crime scene."

"What was your relationship with the deceased?"

"Relationship? I had no relationship with Morton. He was a suspect in the case Douglas Shaw hired me to investigate."

"You sure about that? You didn't have a social relationship with him? You weren't ever intimate with him?"

"Of course not, that's absurd," I said.

"Why didn't you call us from the scene and wait for police to arrive?"

"Because it felt fucking weird being there," I said. "We wanted to get somewhere safe, and we called as soon as we arrived here."

"Tell me more about the case Douglas Shaw hired you for and about how you first encountered the deceased."

"No, I won't," I said. "I'm bored of you treating me like a suspect. I'm a crime victim. The police in Honolulu have all the facts about my case and that bit. If you want to know more about that, talk to them and get copies of their reports."

"Why are you uncooperative? What are you trying to hide Ms. O'Sullivan?"

"Know what detective? Fuck off. This conversation is over until I have an attorney present?"

"Attorney? Are you guilty of a crime? Is that why you want an attorney?"

"I want an attorney because you're being a dick and it's my right to have one," I said. "I've cooperated. I handed over the money, and I handed over the gun I used to shoot Adam Morton. I will not allow you to treat me like a crim any longer."

Kawasaki sighed. "I'm going to try to contact this HPD detective you mentioned and see what he has to say. Unless he changes my mind, I intend to take you down to the station for further questioning. After we get you a lawyer of course. But it will be tomorrow before we can get one here from Maui so we'll have to lock you up until then."

"Piss off," I said. "I have nothing more to say to you, Kawasaki."

There was a knock at the door. The uniformed officer opened it. The other detective was at the door. Kawasaki gave me one last stare and then got up. He went outside with the other detective and closed the door behind him. I wondered how Jackie had fared with the other detective. No reason our stories wouldn't match up as long as she remembered the bit about how we found the money. I was a bit worried about the stacks of cash in Jackie's overnight bag. I'd stashed the bag on the top shelf of the wardrobe in my room behind some spare blankets. If Kawasaki made good on his promise to take me in, the police would search my room. They would find the money or someone from the hotel cleaning staff would find it. Neither would be good for me.

Kawasaki came back in the room, trailed by the other detective.

"I spoke with Detective Young at HPD," Kawasaki said. "I still sense you haven't told me everything and are holding something back. That makes me suspicious. But based on Detective Young's recommendation, I'm not going to take you into custody. Instead, you and Ms. Fitzegerald are to remain at this hotel until I tell you otherwise. You may not leave Lanai City. I've had a hold placed on Ms. Fitzgerald's helicopter."

"Fair enough, we weren't planning to leave anyway," I said.

"Good night," Ms. O'Sullivan. "We will talk more tomorrow after our crime scene unit finishes at the scene." With that, Kawasaki and the other detective left the room. The uniformed officer gave me a weak smile and followed them out.

After the police cars drove away, I hurried to Jackie's room. She was stepping out of her room on the way to mine.

"That was tense," Jackie said.

"Yep, it sucked," I said. "You all right?"

"Sure, I am now that the cop left."

"Hope he wasn't as bad as the prick that interrogated me," I said.

"He wasn't very friendly, that's for sure," Jackie said.

"Want to get drinks?" I said. The bar is still open for another couple of hours."

"Lead the way," Jackie said.

"How about I meet you at the bar in ten," I said. "I need to call the detective in Honolulu first before it gets any later. I'm sure he will come over and help sort this."

"Okay, T. J., see you in ten," Jackie said.

Back in my room, I rang Mike Young. He was still up and told me how worried he had been about me. I gave him a brief summary of how Morton had abducted me and held me captive. I told him about my escape and how I later shot Morton and why. Then I had a rant about the way Kawasaki had treated me.

"Calm down, T. J.," Mike said. "I'll be there in the morning with Oshiro, and we will run interference for you with Maui County PD."

"Why is Oshiro coming with you?" I said. "For fuck's sake, Mike, she hates me. Likely she will help Kawasaki lock me up and toss away the key."

"You're upset, T. J., Oshiro is my partner. It's her case too. She doesn't hate you."

"Yep, she does," I said. "It occurred to me that she hates me because she has a thing for you and she's jealous."

"She doesn't have a thing for me," Mike said. "That's silly."

"No, it isn't silly," I said. "I've seen the way she looks at you when she thinks no one is watching. And I've experienced the way she behaves to me when you and I are in the same place. She sees me as a threat."

"Oshiro is my partner, period," Mike said. "She has never come on to me, and I've never looked at her as a potential date."

"It doesn't work that way," I said. "We don't throw ourselves at a man that catches our interest. We show our interest and then wait to see if he reciprocates. You must have missed the signs, that's all. Trust me, Oshiro has a crush on you."

"Well, I'm only interested in you T. J., so there isn't a problem," Mike said. "You've had a stressful experience and you need to get some rest. I'll be there in the morning, and I'll take care of everything with Kawasaki."

"Ahkay, Mike," I said. "Could be you're right about most of it. But, I'm right about Oshiro having designs on you. It isn't normal for me to need rescuing, but in this case, I'll be happy to see you tomorrow."

We said goodnight, even though it was now early morning. After we disconnected from the call, I rushed to the bar to meet Jackie. She was already two drinks up on me when I arrived.

"What did he say?" Jackie said.

"He and his partner will be here in the morning," I said. "He said he will sort things with Kawasaki so with luck we can return to Honolulu tomorrow."

"It isn't so bad here as long as the cops leave us alone," Jackie said.

"Yep, but I'll feel so much better if we can get off this bloody island with the money tomorrow," I said. "I have a bad feeling about Kawasaki."

"Everything should be better tomorrow," Jackie said.

We had our drinks, and I told Jackie all about my budding romance with Mike Young. We were both well on our way to a proper drunk by the time the staff evicted us from the bar at closing time.

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# Chapter 29

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MIKE YOUNG AND HIS partner Oshiro arrived in Lanai City the following morning. Both accompanied Jackie and me to the Maui County Police Department-Lanai. That's where we were meant to give our official statements.

We gave our videotaped statements to Detective Kawasaki. A Maui County assistant district attorney also attended. Kawasaki was a bit less brusque than he had been the night before. I assumed that was due to Mike's influence. The experience wasn't at all unpleasant. At the end of it, the ADA told Jackie and me that we were free to return to Honolulu. But, he said we'd need to come back for the court hearing about Adam Morton's death when the court scheduled it.

Mike and Oshiro had already concluded their business with Detective Kawasaki. They had flown to Lanai on an HPD helicopter. Jackie told them that they were welcome to hitch a ride back. Otherwise, they faced waiting for the HPD chopper to return for them. They were happy to accept her offer.

I drove us all back to the hire car agency and returned the Jeep. The agency driver then drove us to the airport. After completing her pre-flight checks, Jackie announced we were ready to depart. I got in back with Mike and Oshiro rode up front with Jackie. It was obvious to me that Oshiro was a bit miffed over the seating arrangements.

Jackie had outfitted us all with headsets. But, given the lack of privacy the conversation on the way back to Oahu was only small talk. Oshiro didn't speak at all during the flight. On our arrival at John Rogers Field, an HPD cruiser picked up Mike and Oshiro. Mike said he'd call me later before he left.

Jackie and I said our goodbyes after organizing a get together for a catch up later on the weekend. I rode the motorbike back to my hotel on Waikiki. I reckoned I had to turn the motorbike back and get one of my own soon since I was staying in Honolulu.

After arriving at the hotel, I was keen for a swim in the sea. With the case done, it was well past the time for me to start enjoying Hawaii. But there was the small matter of nine unanswered phone calls from Malone to be dealt with. In the last few voicemail messages, Malone had sounded a bit out of sorts with me. I didn't know why, but I dreaded telling Malone I wasn't coming back to LA. But to be fair, he deserved to know. I decided to pull up my big girl undies and make the call. I rang his mobile, and he answered straight away.

"How's it going?" I said.

"Well, hello stranger," Malone said. "I was just about to call HPD and make a missing person report."

"Yeah, nah, that won't be necessary," I said. "I'm all good thanks."

"Why didn't you return my calls? I was worried sick."

"Yep, so sorry about that," I said. "It's been a bit mad here. I've been all over the show."

"I expected you back after you told me about Douglas," Malone said. "I considered the case was over at that point."

I filled Malone in on the murders of Shaw's wife and daughter, and the theft of the ransom money. I explained how I'd felt responsible for finding Adam Morton and getting Shaw's money back. It had been something I felt was the right thing to do. Then I told Malone how things had come to an end.

"I can understand why you felt you needed to see things through to the end," Malone said. "But none of that was part of the case we agreed to take on. Not to mention I've been in contact with Douglas' attorney. He says it's unlikely the state will pay us for the casework Douglas hired us to do."

"Yep, no worries on that bit," I said. "Have Rhonda email me a statement for what we're owed. I'll see to it that a check is dispatched to the office straight away."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"I've already sorted it," I said. The State of Hawaii is getting Shaw's estate since he has no heirs. I've been in touch with a representative there. I reminded him of the state's responsibility to pay our fees as Shaw's heir."

"Then it seems the extra time you've spent there has been useful after all," Malone said. "When can I expect you back in LA?"

"About that, Ben, I won't be returning," I said. "I've decided to stay on here and am applying for Hawaii PI license. I'll be opening my own agency."

"Staying there? But why? T. J. I thought we have made a great team. In fact, when you got back, I was planning on offering you a partnership."

"That's so awesome of you," I said. "I do appreciate that as well as all you've done for me, but I have to do this for me."

"I never knew you were unhappy in LA?" Malone said.

"It wasn't that I was unhappy. It's seemed my life has been on hold ever since I lost David. I reckon it would be good for me to make a new start in a new place. Hawaii seems a good place for it."

"What about your house here and your belongings? Aren't you at least coming back to settle your affairs?"

"Nah, I'm not," I said. "I can handle all that by phone and email I reckon. I'll settle the lease with my landlord. Then I'll organize a mover to pick up my things and put them in storage for now."

"This comes as quite a shock," Malone said. "I've come to depend on you, and to count on you when I've needed help with cases."

"Thanks for saying that," I said. "But, this is something I have to do. I hope you'll try to understand, Ben. And, if you should you need me for a case, I'm only a six-hour flight away from LA."

"I won't pretend I'm happy about it, but I do think I understand," Malone said. "So, best of luck T. J., and you know you can always call me if you ever need anything."

"Thanks for that, Ben," I said. "I have to go now. I have so much to get sorted. Your friendship has always meant heaps to me, and always will. Take good care, and say hello to Jaime for me when you see him."

"Okay, T. J., guess it's goodbye until I see you again," Malone said.

"See you," I said. We disconnected from the call.

I dabbed at the tears with my fingers. It had been harder to say goodbye than I'd even expected. But to be fair, I knew it would be hard which is why I'd put off calling Malone. Still, it was a relief to have it behind me. Now, I could concentrate on building my new life in Honolulu. I wasn't at all certain my feelings for Malone would ever change. But, it seemed living 4,000 kilometers away from him, and not having to see him almost daily would be a bit easier.

After getting undressed, I put on my togs and sarong. I grabbed my sunnies and a beach towel and was about to walk out the door when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw it was Mike, so I answered.

"How's it going?" I said.

"Great, just wanted to see what you were up to," Mike said.

"I'm about to pop down to the beach for a swim," I said.

"Sounds terrific," Mike said. "I also was calling to see if we were still on for dinner tonight."

"Sure we are," I said. "I hadn't forgotten."

"Pick you up at seven?"

"Yep, perfect," I said, "I'll be waiting for you in the lobby."

"Okay, see you then," Mike said.

"See you."

I tossed the phone on the bed and left the room for the beach. It was an awesome sunny day. I had a swim and then relaxed on the beach. It was time to work on a long-delayed tan. As I lounged about in the Hawaiian sunshine, I tried to work through some of the issues from the last couple of weeks. As far as the money went, I couldn't say I felt guilty for taking it, actually.

The case had been a mare's nest. I felt I deserved to be well paid for the time I'd spent on it. I'd not only done what Shaw had hired me to do, but I'd also taken care of the man who had killed his wife and daughter. To be fair, it could be argued almost $250,000 was a bit more than I deserved.

On the other foot, I was putting the money to good use. I was helping Jackie, and Malone was getting paid. Of course, I had made up the story about the state paying him for Shaw's case. I'd be paying it from Shaw's money. I had also incurred the medical bills. I was responsible for paying the hotel bill that Shaw meant to pay. I couldn't imagine the Hawaiian politicians would have found a better use for the money. And, it had to be said that the state was already getting a windfall in the form of Shaw's entire estate. Mike had told me that he'd heard that Shaw had been worth at least a couple of billion. I reckoned I could only be trying to rationalize it all, but no I wasn't going to feel guilty about the money.

The other thing I thought about was Mike. I intended to give him a fair chance. He wasn't some sort of consolation prize. Mike wasn't Ben, but he was a good and decent man in his own right. I saw some potential there for a lasting relationship. I supposed time would tell if I was right about it.

I also thought about Jackie and how happy I was that we had met. She was a cool chick, and I knew we were on the way to building a solid friendship. Having a man I liked, and a new friend already seemed to bode well for my decision about moving to Hawaii.

I swam in the sea and sunned until after five and then I went back to the hotel to get ready for my dinner date with Mike.

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# Chapter 30

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MIKE HAD SURPRISED me with a sunset dinner cruise aboard the Star of Oahu. It was all very romantic. The elegant dinner of Maine lobster and tenderloin of beef was quite delicious. After the cruise we popped into a popular bar on the quay next to Aloha Tower. It was an amazing night and I'd been far more up for it than I'd been on our first date. It seemed I'd recovered from the concussions.

After dinner and drinks, Mike drove me back to my hotel. On the way he offered to let me stay at his place until I found my own flat so I wouldn't keep spending on hotel bills. I appreciated the offer, but I thought it a bit premature for us to make the decision to live together. I told him I planned to start looking for a flat the following day and should be out of the hotel soon.

Mike may have been a bit presumptuous by parking in the hotel multi-story carpark. His past habit had been to park in the hotel driveway when dropping me off. But I didn't call him on it. He may have only been reading my vibe. By the time we had left the bar, I was feeling the same little buzz I'd felt that night we had walked on the beach together.

Mike offered to walk me to my door, so we both got on the lift. At the door he told me how much he'd enjoyed the evening with me, and gave me a rather chaste kiss on the lips. I turned and opened the door with my key card and then turned back to look him in the eyes.

"I'm being a bit bold, but do you fancy a sleepover?" I said.

"I'd love a sleepover," Mike said. The twinkle in eyes, and the smile told me he meant it, so I invited him in.

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WE WERE NAKED AND DEEPLY satiated. The first time had seemed a bit manic and hurried. The second time was more measured and affectionate. Yet it was every bit as intense and satisfying. In the darkness, in my bed, we lay together with Mike's arm around my shoulder and my head resting on his chest.

"That was a long time coming," Mike said.

"Interesting choice of words," I said.

Mike chuckled. "You know what I meant."

"Yep, I did," I said. "But, I find I quite like teasing you a bit."

"So, where does it go from here?"

"I haven't a clue," I said. "But, I know one thing we mustn't do."

"What's that?"

"We mustn't rush things," I said. "Let's just see where things take us."

"I agree," Mike said. "But, I like this very much and I can't help hoping we're going to do it again."

"No worries," I said. "We're defo going to do this again, and again, and again. I meant to say we mustn't rush the relationship part of it."

I couldn't see Mike's face in the dark, but I could feel him smiling.

"That's a relief," Mike said.

"Isn't it," I said.

"So, what are you going to do now that you've decided to stay in Honolulu?"

"Find a flat, get some furnishings, buy a motorbike, that sort of thing," I said. "Tomorrow I'm going to shop for a desk to move into the office space I'm going to share with Jackie."

"You're going to hang out your shingle before you get your license here?"

"I'll try to start sorting the license tomorrow," I said. "But should I get any clients, I'll work on an informal basis until the license comes through. I have to establish an income quick smart if I'm to live here."

"Well, don't take on any kidnapping cases, please," Mike said with another laugh.

"I don't think I will," I said, "considering how the last one turned out."

I remembered all the details as I lay there. How he smelled, how his chest hair felt against my skin. How his razor stubble scratched a bit even though he'd shaved before our date. I felt a connection with him already that I quite liked.

"Am I going to be your boyfriend?" Mike asked.

"You mean an exclusive arrangement?"

"That's what I was thinking," Mike said.

"And, I'd not date anyone else?"

"I admit I wouldn't like it much if you did," Mike said.

"I see," I said. "Ahkay, then yes you can be my boyfriend. I wasn't meaning to date anyone else anyway."

Mike chuckled and kissed me on the head. I rolled up onto his chest and kissed him on the lips.

"You mean you're ready to go again?" Mike said.

"Like a good friend of mine is fond of saying, we'd be fools not to," I said.

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# About the Author

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LARRY DARTER was born in Oklahoma. He is a veteran of the United States Navy and holds a Bachelor of Science Degree from the University of Central Oklahoma. He is a retired police officer with more than twenty-three years of law enforcement service. As a retired crime fighter turned crime fiction writer, he leverages his real life law enforcement experience to create the kind of realistic and compelling crime novels that mystery and crime thriller fans love to read. Connect with Larry by visiting his website or find him on social media.

Website: LarryDarter.com

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# From the Author

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DEAR READER,

Thank you so much for reading Mare's Nest. I hope that you enjoyed this first installment of the T. J. O'Sullivan Series and will be looking forward to our heronine's next action-packed adventure.

May I ask you a favor? If you are so inclined, I'd love it if you would write and post a brief review of this novel on the website of the retailer where you purchased the book. Whether you loved it--hated it, I'd sincerely appreciate the feedback.

Reviews are critically important to the success of a book these days, but can be hard to come by. You, the reader have the power now to literally make or break a book. If you have the time to write and post a review you will not only earn my enduring gratitude, you will also help other mystery fans find this novel.

In gratitude,

Larry Darter
