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Authors: Deborah Turrell Atkinson

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BOOK: Pleasing the Dead
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“I'm worried that Obake's threat makes it look like Lara made him swim to the
Quest
.” Stella chewed a hangnail.

“No one was holding a gun to his head. We saw him leave the beach,” Storm said. “And he swims every day.”

Stella's shoulders sagged. “I guess.”

Storm remembered that Lara had two boats. “Why the
Quest
?”

“That was the boat she used for the shark encounter.”

“So she did bait the water.”

Stella nodded. “Not all the time, but sharks recognize the sound of the engines and come around. Tourists love it. It's become her most popular excursion.”

“Have you ever seen sharks try to bite someone?”

“Never. The divers are in a cage,” Stella said. “They don't bite the cage, let alone a person. I don't know why the shark attacked Obake.”

“It's her
‘aumakua
,” said Keiko in a very soft voice, and the words gave Storm chicken skin.

No one said anything for a long moment. Storm broke the silence. “Who physically put us on the boat?”

“Billy and Ken,” Keiko said.

“What about Damon? He helped, didn't he?”

“Damon didn't know about the kidnapping until it happened. When he overheard Billy telling Ken it was time to toss us overboard, miles off shore with our hands tied, he put his own safety at risk.”

“He was free up until then,” Storm pointed out. “And didn't he set me up?”

“I don't think so. He mentioned to Ken and Billy you needed to trade cars, but he didn't know they were going to knock you out,” Stella said.

Storm nodded slowly. She remembered the sound of a protest and a scuffle right before the sting of the drug they'd given her.

“How is Lara?” Storm asked. “Can she be questioned?”

“I called the hospital about an hour ago and talked to an orderly I know. He couldn't say much, but he told me sometimes she makes sense, sometimes not so much.” Stella hesitated. “And she's a suspect in the restaurant bombing, among other things.”

She leaned toward Storm. “Do you handle criminal work?”

“If you're talking about Lara, I'd rather refer the case to an attorney who specializes in criminal law,” Storm said. “I can be co-counsel.”

“How about Billy and Ken?”

“They need to hire their own counsel.”

Storm took a thoughtful sip of wine and glanced at Hamlin. She could tell he, too, was sorting through the available information. There were gaping holes in their knowledge. She needed to ask Lara a laundry list of questions, but she was at the end of a long line of interrogators. And for her client's sake, she needed to restrain her curiosity and find a criminal attorney.

“You're sure it was Obake's men who took you to Pauline's?” Storm asked Keiko.

“Yes, and I signed a complaint against her,” Keiko said.

“I can see why he'd abduct you and Carmen, but why Stella and me?” She looked around the table. Keiko and Stella appeared to be waiting for her to answer the question. Hamlin recognized it as rhetorical and raised one eyebrow.

“We don't have all the pieces yet,” he said.

Storm slowly set down her glass down. “And why didn't Lara ask for help? From me or from law enforcement?”

“As if you've never tried to handle problems alone?” Hamlin's tone was gentle.

Storm lowered her eyes. “Well, sometimes.”

“Obake had friends in local government,” Stella said. “He'd already taken Keiko and Carmen to show they belonged to him. He'd threatened you, her lawyer. Lara was frantic, and she trusted very few people.”

“Where are the Tagamas?” Storm asked. “I need to talk to them about Paradise Consortium's role.”

Sadness lined Stella's face again. “That's the other reason I wanted to talk to you.”

Chapter Forty-seven

“Tagama was going to give Lara the land as a wedding present.”

“He could do this?” Storm wondered if he had enough control over Paradise Consortium.

“But Ryan didn't tell Lara?” Hamlin asked.

“No, it was a gift. Tagama was going to wrap up the papers and take her and Ryan to dinner.” Stella took a drink.

“When did you hear about this?” Storm asked.

“I called Ryan this afternoon to tell him about Obake and Lara.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much, he's too upset,” Stella said. “Steven Kudo killed his father.”

Storm swallowed. “That's who Wu meant? The prominent businessman.”

“Tagama left a letter for Ryan.”

“Did he tell you what it said?”

“No, he didn't want to talk about it.”

Sadness covered the four of them like a damp mist.

“Poor Lara,” said Stella.

“Poor Ryan,” said Storm.

“Lara made some bad decisions,” said Keiko.

Keiko had just voiced Storm's thoughts. She looked at the young woman. Storm had thought no one would rise above the mess Obake had created with his cruel manipulations, but she might be wrong.

Keiko, for the first time in Storm's experience, had on a short sleeved shirt. Her scars showed clearly, but she didn't try to hide them. She didn't twist her arms, though she gave a little shiver and slipped them into the sleeves of a sweater that had been draped over her shoulders. Storm was going to do the same.

“She did make some poor choices, but she was bullied. We're going to get her a good lawyer,” Hamlin said.

“We'll take care of her.” Storm put her hand on Stella's. “And I'll find out what role the Tagamas played in this.”

“I can't believe Ryan would allow anyone to hurt Lara.” Stella's eyes pleaded with Storm.

“I doubt it, too. And I'll let you know.” Storm paused. “Do you think Ryan blames Lara for his father's death?”

“I didn't ask. He didn't have much to say when I told him she was in the hospital.”

“He has a lot to process.”

Stella nodded, and changed the subject. “How long are you going to stay?” she asked Hamlin.

His eyes slid to Storm's. “I'll be discussing that with Storm.”

A mischievous gleam replaced a bit of the distress in Stella's eyes. He paid the bill, and the four got up to leave. “Any recommendations for a nice dinner place?” he asked Stella.

“The Gaslight. About a quarter mile from here, right on the water. Pricey, but worth it.”

“Excellent.”

And it was. And so was the walk along the beach to get there, though Storm's mobile phone rang about half way. It was Carl Moana.

“You get your phone and suitcase?”

“Yes, thanks. The car, too.”

“This is going to hit the papers tomorrow, so I thought I'd let you know. Ichiru Tagama was working with us.” He paused, and Storm could hear the crackling of his car radio. “I mean, local law enforcement agencies.”

“What about Paradise Consortium?”

“You knew about that?”

“Sure, it had partial ownership in the shopping center where Lara has her dive shop.”

“Yeah,” Moana said. “Uh, that part isn't going to be in the news.”

“We need to tell Lara about Tagama's role. I have a feeling she thought he was an associate of Obake's.” Storm stopped walking. “What did Tagama do?”

“It was an arrangement. Obake kept Tagama on the board of Paradise Consortium so he could keep an eye him. It kept Tagama abreast of the local syndicate's activities. The Feds asked Tagama to encourage Obake to buy into the shopping center under Lara's shop so they had a shared interest.”

“Who owned the majority of the shopping center?” Storm asked.

“Mālua LLC owned ninety percent.”

“So Tagama could buy out Paradise and do what he wanted with the lease?”

“He bought them out two days ago.”

“Is that why Steven Kudo killed him?”

“No.” Moana sighed. “Tagama knew they'd killed Yasuko. He knew the police didn't have enough physical evidence to prove it, and he went after it.”

“How'd Kudo die?”

“Kudo and his side-kick were both killed with throwing knives. Tagama was good.” Moana sounded impressed.

“How did Tagama die?”

“Kudo shot him.” A few blats of the radio sounded in the background. “Tagama had a friend in the police, and he called him before he went to meet the two thugs. Tagama knew he wasn't coming back.”

“How's Ryan taking it?”

“Pretty rough,” Moana said. “His dad left him the whole business, though. He'll pull himself back together. He has to.”

“Hey, Moana,” Storm said. “Thanks for telling me.”

“You're welcome. I didn't want you uncovering any more stones.” There was a smile in his voice. “One other thing, but this is my own news. I'm in line for a promotion.”

“Congratulations, Moana. You deserve it.” Storm thought for a moment. “Do something for me?”

“Yeah, if I can.”

“Tell Lara all this as soon as you can, okay?”

***

The wine was perfect. So were their dinners and the walk back under the stars. So was the hotel room, the big bed, and the soft breeze that fluttered the gauzy drapes.

Chapter Forty-eight

Monday morning, Grace phoned at nine-thirty to tell Storm that Mark Suzuki called. He wanted to know how she was. The ringing phone woke up Storm and Hamlin, and Grace didn't bother to hide the smile in her voice. Storm and Hamlin recuperated for one more day (and night), then responded to the tug of obligations in Honolulu.

Wednesday morning, Storm sat at her desk and returned his call.

“You owe me a lobster dinner,” Mark said.

“You're right, I do. You free tonight?”

Though Storm and Hamlin were on time, Mark was already at the table. He wore an enormous red bib with an advertisement for Marcie's Maine Delicacies printed in big white letters across the front. Since they were at Ruths Chris Steakhouse in Waikiki, Storm figured he'd brought his own supplies. From what she could tell, he had on a clean shirt and tie, but his eyeglasses were, as usual, smudged and slightly crooked on his round face.

The staff seemed to be in on Suzuki's joke. The sommelier wore a big grin the entire time he talked to Hamlin about wine. This wasn't Suzuki's first visit, apparently.

As soon as Hamlin ordered a bottle, Mark leaned in. “So what happened? Don't tell me any of the stuff in the papers. I want the inside scoops.”

“When we left, Lara was released from the hospital to Stella's custody,” Storm said. “Ryan went to see her this morning.”

“And?” Suzuki asked.

“The wedding has been postponed. They're reevaluating the relationship.”

“No kidding.” Suzuki looked thoughtful. “It was nice of him to go see her.”

“Yeah, especially after her involvement with that Ken character,” Hamlin said.

“You're jumping to conclusions.” Storm frowned at him. “Ryan could have told her earlier about Paradise Consortium's ownership.”

“No way,” said Suzuki.

“What makes you say that?” Storm asked.

“He couldn't. He had to keep it under wraps.”

She eyed Suzuki. “How do you know?”

Suzuki shrugged and drank some wine.

Storm softened. “At least he's giving Lara a chance. Stella told me he brought her flowers.”

“Stella's a romantic.”

“And what's wrong with that?”

Hamlin broke up the sparring. “In his letter to Ryan, Tagama reassured him that he had faith in the afterlife. He knew his negative karma would keep him from Nirvana this go-round, and hoped his son found comfort in Tagama's belief that he would join Yasuko and begin his atonement for past mistakes. He also mentioned that Obake had an iron-clad alibi for Yasuko's death, and the police didn't have enough to prove Steven Kuko did it.”

“Tagama also told Ryan that Obake had found out he was working with the Feds,” Storm added. “Tagama was worried about Ryan's and Lara's welfare if he didn't act to end things.”

Suzuki shook his head from side to side. “Noble, but tough.”

“Ryan is probably the most innocent of the bunch,” Hamlin said.

“Wait,” Storm said. “Stella and Keiko had nothing to do with Lara's plan.”

“That's true. But they knew Obake and what he could do. They knew at least two women who'd died in his operation.”

“Stella helped Keiko escape. Both of them have struggled to rebuild their lives,” Storm said. “Which reminds me, they've hired an attorney and applied for custody of Carmen.”

“Five people died, right?” Mark asked. “Obake, Yasuko, Steve Kudo, the other Yakuza guy, and Tagama.”

“Six. The guy who died in the bombing,” Hamlin said.

“That's right, Tom Peters, the liquor commissioner,” Storm said.

“Have you heard anything about him?” Suzuki asked with a sly smile.

Storm and Hamlin stared at him, and he continued after a weighted pause. “Peters had heard rumors about certain Lahaina bars, and he knew someone on his staff was overlooking gross legal abuses.”

Storm narrowed her eyes. “How do you know this?”

Suzuki ignored her question. “On Monday, Peters announced to Wayne Harding that he'd be attending the meeting in Harding's place,” Suzuki said. “Big mistake.”

Storm sat back with amazement. “Harding warned Obake.”

Hamlin spoke up. “Peters was the target? How did they convince him to stick around for the bomb to blow up?”

“Harding was supposed to bring him some tapes. Peters followed the rest of the people to the parking lot, and waited there. Harding, naturally, was late and the bomb went off. It was planted in the shrubbery in front of Peters' car.”

“How'd they know he'd park in the right place?”

“Obake and his men made sure it was the closest free space, right next to the entrance.”

“I saw the result of the blast,” Storm said. “The whole side of the restaurant was gone.”

“Billy Coswell set the bomb?” Hamlin asked.

“Looks like it,” Suzuki said.

“And he was hired to kidnap us?” Storm asked.

“Obake thought you might have a copy of the sales contract for Lara's Makena place. The contract with the rightful owner, that is.”

“Was Ken in on the kidnapping? And how about Lara?”

“Lara didn't know that you three were on the
Quest
until she heard pounding on the cabin door,” Suzuki said. “From what we can tell, Ken was pressured into helping Billy, and he bought into the story that you were being held for your own safety and would be released as soon as Lara signed the falsified contract.”

“Hold it,” Storm said. “Who's
we
? Who are you working with, Mark?”

“Me? I have a consulting firm.” Mark lifted his glass for a delicate sip. “Nice wine, Hamlin. Is this the '02 or the '03 Pinot Grigio?”

“Yeah, yeah. Advanced Medical Systems. Come on, Suzuki.”

The wait staff arrived with their orders. Storm couldn't believe it; Suzuki must have control over waiter intervention, too. She watched him inhale the aroma from an enormous red lobster on the platter before him. The monster hung off both sides. A cute waitress brought a pot of melted butter and set it next to him. His wide face looked beatific in the candlelight.

She decided to relent for a while and enjoy her
onaga.
Hamlin looked delighted with his filet. They ate and avoided the Maui topic by telling amusing work stories and poking fun at government incompetents. An endless supply of those, they all agreed.

Storm put down her fork for a rest. “Okay, you're not going to reveal your contacts. Or colleagues,” she added with a raised eyebrow, and watched Suzuki for a reaction. He attacked a giant claw with a nutcracker.

“Just tell me this,” she pleaded. “Remember when I called you from the restaurant?”

“Yeah, I couldn't believe it!” He looked to Hamlin for corroboration. “She calls me from a bar. Here we are, extra careful that Obake can't track our calls—and there she is, outside the restrooms where these guys are trying to pick her up.”

“Please. They were blind drunk. And ugly. Did I mention they were ugly?”

“I should try that sometime,” Suzuki said. “Hanging around the women's room, I mean,” he added quickly.

“They didn't have any luck.”

“True,” Suzuki conceded.

“So what did you tell that sleaze ball?” Storm demanded. “You know, to get rid of him.”

Suzuki extracted a plug of white flesh from the claw and lowered it into the butter. Three times. He raised the dripping morsel to his open mouth.

“Suzuki?”

“I told him you were a secret agent with a license to kill.”

Hamlin made a honking noise and raised his napkin to cover a huge grin. Storm glared at him. He was bright red.

Mark's mouth twitched. “Come on, I missed out on all the fun.”

“Fun?” She squinted at him.

“Not fun?” he asked, suddenly serious. For a very large man in a big red bib and crooked spectacles, he could have a lot of dignity. It showed up more times than others, and was in full force at that moment.

“No, not fun,” she said. “Those were dangerous men, and I was scared witless. There were also innocent people in trouble.”

Mark's black eyes appraised her, while Hamlin's had a new glow.

Suzuki raised his wine glass. “My dear friend, you have grown into an amazing woman.”

“Suzuki, you're not playing fair.”

“I can't. And you don't want me to.” Despite the grease on his chin, Suzuki's face took on a solemn sincerity. “Please, Storm. This is an outstanding dinner. It's a pleasure to spend the evening with you both.”

When the waiter brought the check, he took it straight to Suzuki.

Storm reached out. “Mark, this is my treat. I promised. I'd be in the trunk of one of Obake's cars if it weren't for you and Hamlin.”

“I doubt it.” Suzuki looked pleased with himself. “It's my gift to the two of you.” He winked. “Teamwork rules.”

The waiter appeared and whisked away the leather envelope with the check and Suzuki's credit card.

It was time to be gracious. “Thank you, Mark.”

“You're welcome,” he said, and sighed with contentment. “I have an ulterior motive.”

“Oh, no.” Storm groaned.

“Will you call me again for help? Life would be dull without you.”

Storm sputtered on her wine. “Suzuki, you're a nut case.”

“Could be, but I'm a useful one.”

“I'll call you,” Storm said.

“I will, too,” Hamlin said. “It was an illuminating evening, Mark. Thank you.”

On the way to the parking lot, Storm and Hamlin walked hand in hand. Their heels tapped the pavement together, the only sound in the dark street. She broke their comfortable silence. “Hamlin, did I ever tell you about this land my dad left me?” she asked.

“No, show it to me?”

“Yes, I'd like to.”

BOOK: Pleasing the Dead
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