***
I
felt a presence in the room even before I was awake enough to see anything.
Steve? No, it was someone else. And then there was the odor. Like a hand over
my mouth, the smell enveloped me—overpowering the clean scent of sheets and
pillow.
My
eyes came into focus and there was Beni, standing over me with his stringy, clumped
hair falling on either side of his face like a half-opened curtain.
“Hey,
wahine
, guess what? You sold me out,” he hissed. “Now you pay.”
I
wasn’t worried. Regardless of his threat, we both knew I could take him down in
three moves.
“Get
the hell out of here, Beni,” I said. “I told you before if you pulled this
stunt again, I’d lay you out like a prayer rug.” I propped myself up on one
elbow.
In
the dusky glow of a three-quarter moon, the glint of something shiny was
impossible to miss. It was a gun. A really big gun. And it was pointed right at
my face.
CHAPTER 31
Odd
questions ran through my head as I stared at the business end of Beni’s gun.
Where had he been the last eighteen hours? How had a loser like him come up
with such an impressive piece of weaponry? Did he know that in Hawaii a former
felon like Beni could get tossed back into prison for even being in the same
room as a gun like that? And, why was this fool pointing a gun at
me
—the
person who’d fed and sheltered him when he had nowhere else to go? I don’t
scare easily, but guns—especially a gun held by a loose cannon like Beni—scare
me. I’d been trained to mask fear, though, so I went with my best bluff.
“Beni,
what the hell are you doing? Put that thing away.”
“You
don’t like it when the guy you screwed over screws with you, right?”
“What
are you talking about?”
“Oh
yeah, you don’t think I know you ratted me out to that cop? You play like
you’re gonna help me, and then you go to the cops to rat me out?”
“Beni,
I didn’t rat you out—to anybody.”
“Liar!”
He screamed. I hoped Steve heard and was upstairs calling nine-one-one.
“Look,
Beni, put down the gun so we can talk. I never mentioned your name to the cops.
And, after what I found out today, I’m pretty sure you’re right—I think the
cops were in on it.”
“In
on what? You trying to mess with me? No more talking. Get your ass outta that
bed ‘cuz we’re going for a little ride.”
“Okay,
okay. Where do you want to go?” I slipped out of bed, holding a pillow to cover
up as much as I could since I was only wearing an oversized tee-shirt.
“You’re
taking me down to Lahaina. Then we’re gonna see about getting me the hell off
this rock. If you make a call, or try anything stupid, I’m blowing your head
off. I mean it. I done it before.”
His
hands were trembling. He transferred the gun from his right hand to his left
while he wiped his palm on his shorts. Then he switched it back.
“Beni,
listen to me. I believe you about what happened up in ‘Iao Valley. I went up
there today. And I know the Maui cops aren’t to be trusted. I’m on your side.”
“Shut
up and get some clothes on.”
I
pulled on the same pair of shorts I’d worn all day. My rubber
slippas
were by the door. I assessed the situation and determined I could still
probably drop Beni in three moves, but he was brandishing a Desert Eagle—one of
the most powerful handguns on the planet. One small slip-up and one of us would
die. The Chuck Norris moves would have to wait.
We
trudged out to my car and by then Beni was carrying the gun down by his side.
No doubt he’d used up most of his paltry upper body strength by waving the
five-pound gun in my face for the past few minutes.
As
I was getting into the Geo I noticed Steve had left the garage door
open—something he never did. Also, it was empty.
“Beni,
how’d you get into my house?”
“Walked
right in. You so dumb you don’t lock the door. You should be glad I got here
first. The guys who’re after me woulda popped you right there in your bed.”
“Did
you open the garage door?”
“Yeah,
I woulda taken that little black car, but it was gone.”
“You
don’t have a key.”
“Don’t
need no key when you got skills.”
“Why
didn’t you take my car?”
“This
piece of
kukae
? No offense or nothin’ but this car’s garbage. ‘Sides, I
don’t do no stick shift.” He paused for a beat. “Enough yak. Take me to the
harbor.”
“Ma’alaea?”
“You
deaf? I tol’ you Lahaina. We’re going to Lahaina Harbor.”
I
drove the speed limit. Not fast, but not too slow either. I didn’t want to risk
getting pulled over by Maui’s finest while chauffeuring Beni and his five-pound
pistol. I had a million questions, but I held off. The gun was in his lap, his
right hand tensing on the grip. Every few minutes, he’d lift the barrel a few
inches to remind me who was really in the driver’s seat.
“Can
we talk about that girl who got shot up in ‘Iao?” I said.
“What’s
to talk about?”
“You
haven’t told me all of it, have you?”
“What
you wanna know? She turned out to be more trouble than she was worth.”
“Because
the guy wouldn’t pay the ransom?”
“Yeah,
and some other stuff.”
“Like…?”
“Like
I don’t want to talk about it no more.”
We
came out of the turns on the Pali Highway and dropped down to the flatlands
heading toward Launiupoko Beach. Funny, only twelve hours earlier I’d seen this
same beach from the air. It looked a lot prettier when I was sitting alongside
Ono in the helicopter than it did in the dark of night with Beni poking a gun
in my ribs.
“I
feel kinda bad,” he said breaking the silence.
“Bad
about what? About dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night, or
threatening to blow my head off?”
“Nah,
not that. I feel bad I had to shoot her.”
My
hands gripped the wheel as if someone had zapped me with a couple hundred
volts.
“What’re
you talking about?”
“See
this gun? It’s not mine. That’s why those guys are pissed. I took off with
their fancy gun.”
“You
killed somebody Beni?”
“I
guess.”
“With
that gun?” I glanced down at the glint of chrome.
“Looks
that way.”
“You
know, the police have me under surveillance,” I said. “They’re probably
following us right now.”
Beni
twisted in his seat. “I don’ see nobody back there.”
I
took a glimpse at the rearview mirror. Black, nothing but black. No headlights
and certainly no flashing blue lights.
“You
think the cops been following you, eh? Did you ever think maybe it wasn’t cops?
Way I heard it, people I know been following you too.”
I
kept quiet.
“Spook
you, eh? Now you know how I feel—everybody comin’ after me.”
“Can
it, okay Beni? I need to concentrate on my driving.”
We
zipped down the dark highway. I tried to think of some way to attract attention
but I’d never seen the island roads so empty.
“Okay,
we’re getting close to Lahaina.” I finally said. “Where do you want me to
turn?”
“Man,
you musta got that old timer’s disease or something. You can’t remember
nothin’. I said, take me to the harbor.”
I
turned left at Shaw, went a couple of blocks up Front Street, then turned and
parked on Harbor Avenue. In the daytime, the area bustled with traffic and
tourists. But in the dead of night it was just that—dead. I set the parking
brake and waited for Beni to get out.
“Okay,”
he said, bringing the gun up to my temple. “Get out—slow. You and me are gonna
go visit a friend.”
“What
friend? Who’s expecting you at this time of night?”
“Oh,
not a friend of mine—a friend of yours. Some guys told me about that dude you
been hanging with. You know, your boyfriend with the catamaran, eh? He’s gonna
take me away from here. Otherwise, he’s gonna watch his brand new girlfriend
end up like that red-haired girl. Now move.”
I
got out of the car and assessed how I could turn the tables. In the dark, on
the uneven footing of the dock, all I had to do was deliver one well-placed
roundhouse kick. He’d go sprawling and more than likely the gun would skitter off
into the drink. But then, if I missed…
“I
know what you’re thinkin’ but I wouldn’t try nothin’ if I was you,” he said. “I
got friends here too. And they’d love a reason to get their hands on your
buddy’s boat. You mess with me, they mess with him.”
I
stopped abruptly. “Beni, I can’t do this. You’re going to have to shoot me. I
refuse to take you down to Ono’s boat.”
“Listen
to you. Looks like that black belt stuff knocked your brain
pupule.
You
get movin’ or I’ll start shootin’. I’m not kiddin’.”
I
crossed my arms. He took a step back and gripped the pistol with both hands.
Even so, his arms sagged under the weight of the gun. I had only a couple of
seconds to react, but that was enough time to reach out and grip his right
forearm, pull him crashing to his knees, and deliver a quick blow to his solar
plexus.
The
gun went off. I’m not sure if he purposely pulled the trigger or if it fired as
a result of his finger contracting when I knocked the wind out of him. The
blast boomed and echoed across the sleeping harbor so long it sounded like he’d
emptied the entire magazine. The single round went airborne—straight up. What
goes up must come down, but after a couple of seconds I was reasonably certain
it’d landed somewhere other than my skull.
Lights
flicked on in boat cabins and heads popped up from below decks.
I
yanked the gun from Beni’s limp hand and stood over him, waiting for possible
retaliation from the drug dealers in the tricked-up yacht parked nearby. It was
in the first slip—the one they’d stolen from Ono. But no one came up from the
yacht. They didn’t even turn on a light.
A
plain vanilla cop car with a flashing cherry on the roof showed up within
minutes. Three guesses who was first on the scene.
CHAPTER 32
Detective
Glen Wong, with his partner in tow, skittered down the dock with service
weapons drawn. If he’d been behind the whole operation from the get-go, it
couldn’t have played out any better for him. There I was, holding a
take-no-prisoners Desert Eagle chrome handgun, standing over a skinny dude I’d
walloped into a near coma.
“Ms.
Moon,” said Wong as he approached. “Why does this feel like déjà vu all over
again?”
“Before
you get the wrong idea, Detective, I really need you to hear me out.”
“You
know, there’s not much you could say that would change my mind,” he said. “I
told you no more than eight hours ago that if you didn’t back off I’d throw you
in jail. But here you are.”
Ono
came running down the dock from the other direction and Wong’s partner stepped
over and held out an arm to prevent him from coming any closer.
“She’s
a friend of mine,” Ono said, as if our acquaintance would make any difference.
“We’re
taking her in,” the partner said. “You can talk to her after she gets
processed.”
The
paramedics arrived and bundled Beni up for the long ride back across the island
to the hospital in Wailuku. The crowd on the wharf had grown to a couple dozen
people. I flinched when somebody took my picture with a flash.
Wong
nodded at his partner and Bert Konomanu went over and talked to the picture
taker.
“Too
bad you won’t get to be on the news,” said Wong as he ordered me to put my
hands behind my back so he could snap on the handcuffs. “We don’t reward
vigilante behavior.”
He
escorted me back to the Fairlane and even put his hand on my head to make me
duck down to slip into the back seat. I thought that was just something cops
did on TV.
“You
okay back there?”
“Never
better,” I mumbled.
We
rode to the police station in silence. During the forty-minute ride I had
plenty of time to mentally flip through a bunch of questions I knew would never
get answered. How had Wong shown up at the harbor so quickly—especially since I
hadn’t seen him following me? Why was I being arrested before I’d been read my
Miranda rights? And why hadn’t I kicked Beni’s ass when he was in my bedroom? I
could’ve claimed self-defense and saved myself and the taxpayers of Hawaii a
helluva lot of trouble and money.
When
we got to Wailuku, Wong didn’t take me in through the jail entrance but instead
used a back door into a hallway I hadn’t been in before. Great. I’d seen enough
crooked cop movies to know this is how it goes: they throw you in an unmarked
back room and say you resisted arrest or something. Then they hammer you down
until you confess to some bogus charge.