Torch Ginger (20 page)

“It’s a bad place. Blood all around. Death.” Esther dropped the stones out of her hand onto the lauhala mat as if she didn’t want to touch them another moment. Lei leaned forward and scooped them back into the bag.

“What did you see?”

“It’s not a seeing; it’s a knowing. I know those stones are soaked in blood.”

“There wasn’t any trace on them. I checked early on.”

“Metaphorically. Perhaps.”

“Okay.” Lei frowned. Esther was being enigmatic again, and now she felt the telltale buzzing in her ears that signaled an episode of her own. Blood. Death. The words vibrated in that dark place in her mind.

“A cave, maybe?” Lei struggled to focus.

“Maybe. It’s still, dark with just the torches, and the blood . . .” Esther’s voice trailed off.

Lei reached over to pinch herself as her vision narrowed, the walls closing in as her dissociation symptoms returned full force. Her eyes fluttered shut as she sucked a relaxation breath in through her nose, out through her mouth, digging her nails into her arm in desperation to stay present.

It didn’t work.

The next thing she knew she was lying on her back on the matting. She heard a low
pule
, or prayer, and her feet were being massaged. Wonderfully, marvelously, powerfully massaged. She lifted her head, looking down her body. Esther’s face broke into a luminous smile. Her strong hands continued to rub and knead Lei’s feet. The smell of coconut oil filled the room.

“You had me worried, girl.”

“That hasn’t happened to me in . . . ages.” Lei sat up. “I get triggered sometimes and I—check out.”

“Where do you go?”

“I don’t know. I never remember.”

“Do you want to remember?”

“I don’t think so. I think the disappearing is to . . . escape something.”

“Maybe your soul is wandering.”

Lei felt the hairs rise on her arms. She pulled her foot out of the older woman’s hands, tucked it beneath her, rubbed her arms briskly.

“I don’t believe in that kind of thing. My shrink says it’s dissociation related to trauma. I was molested when I was a little girl.”

“Same thing,” Esther said imperturbably. “Your soul leaves the body. It goes where it feels safe. It comes back when danger is over.”

“Only—that might have made sense when I was a child being sexually abused. It doesn’t work for me now. Here I am, in the middle of an investigation, in the middle of your teaching room—having one of these episodes.”

“Nothing is an accident. Everything happens the way it wants to.”

“What does that mean?”

“What does it mean to you?”

“I don’t know.” The irritation she used to struggle with last year during her therapy, angry rebuttals to Dr. Wilson, didn’t seem to happen with the mysterious Esther. Not that Esther was her therapist or anything.

“I can help you heal, though,” Esther said, as if Lei had spoken aloud. “Maybe there is something different you can do with these ‘episodes,’ as you call them. Maybe they serve a purpose. If you stop fighting them, they might yield their message.”

“Speaking of message.” Lei stood up. “I have a lead to follow up on. Do you have any contact info for Darrell Hines’s mother?”

“We’ll discuss these episodes again; don’t think I’ve forgotten. I’ll be praying about them. And yes, I know Celia Hines. Why do you want to speak to her?”

“Another case, not the one we’re working on.” On impulse, Lei asked, “Do you know Lisa Nakamoto, by any chance?”

“I knew her mother much better, Ann Nakamoto,” Esther said. She went to a corner of the room, where a screen shielded a little bamboo desk. She flipped through an old-fashioned Rolodex and jotted down Celia Hines’s number on a blank card. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m sorry if you knew her, but—Lisa’s been murdered.”

“Oh no.” Esther’s hand dropped to her side, the card fluttering out of her fingers as her chocolate-brown eyes grew wide. “Lisa was a friend of Alika’s when they were growing up and Ann was a friend of my daughter’s—Lehua will be devastated. She was so upset when Ann died of cancer.”

“I’ll let you break the news, then.” Lei cringed at telling kind, regal Lehua Wolcott something devastating. She wondered briefly about the muffled quality of Alika’s response to the news of a childhood friend’s murder—almost as if he’d been expecting it. Well, he had been worried about Lisa.

“I have to call Lehua.” Esther headed for the old-fashioned dial phone on the desk. “You can let yourself out. And keep that necklace on.”

Lei reached down and picked up the fallen card, touching the Ni`ihau shell choker at her throat. She hadn’t taken it off, even to sleep.

“I will. Thanks.”

Esther was already dialing, and said over her shoulder, “Come back next week. Same day, same time. And call me if you need to.”

Maybe she was going to therapy, Lei thought as she ascended the stairs. Except when did therapy involve psychic stone readings, prayer, and foot rubs?

Only on Kaua`i, where the usual rules didn’t seem to apply.

Lei called Stevens as she carried a glass of wine out to her back porch that evening. She needed the wine after passing on all the information she had on Darrell Hines to Fury—as usual he hadn’t appreciated her initiative.

“Esther seems to be psychic. She held the stones, says there’s a dark place with four torches and blood all around. Maybe a cave.”

“I’m not that interested in psychic mumbo jumbo. Anything solid on the cultural angle?”

“She said the stones aren’t used in any Hawaiian ceremony. So whatever he’s doing is some other religious practice—or the stones mean something else entirely.”

“Seems like a dead end for now. The UH guy basically confirmed what you’re saying. The stones are nonnative to Hawaii, and not used in any cultural rituals he’s ever heard of.” Stevens blew out a breath. “I just got done interviewing Shellie Samson. She walked out yesterday, refused to believe me. So today we had to show her fingerprints and a picture of the hand.”

“What fun.” Lei pictured the social worker’s shock on hearing her husband was a victim of foul play.

“Poor lady. She’d been angry at him so long, it took some convincing that he was murdered.”

“That hand is the first body part we’ve found confirming any of the missing were murdered. I’d give anything to find the site where it was buried; I bet that would tell us a lot.”

“You and me both. Speaking of, the captain is calling in the FBI now that we have confirmation of murder. He says the numbers are just too big for us to handle with our resources—since Flea and Fury are already pulled onto the Nakamoto case.”

Lei’s stomach dropped at the mention of the FBI. She took a big swig of wine to settle it, frowning at the peaceful river.

“I’m just getting started on my undercover thing! Dammit. I’m not surprised, but—what’s that going to mean for our investigation?”

“Don’t know. He’s been making the calls today and more will be revealed. In the meantime, we know Samson’s hand came from Hanalei Valley within the path of the flood. I’ve been working on a plan to take the guys and some cadaver dogs and do some major hiking.”

“Better wear hip boots and serious mosquito gear.” Lei looked out at the tangled masses of hau bush and tall grass growing along the river. “When’s this going down?”

“Don’t know yet. Having trouble getting the K-9 unit. They’re doing a drug sweep with the dogs at the airport for the next few days.”

“Talk to the captain. He’ll get the dogs pulled for you.”

“On the agenda for tomorrow. So how was your start at the health food store, Sweets?” His voice was lighter, teasing. Lei leaned her elbow on a knee, rubbing her short hair and enjoying its soft, springy texture.

“It’s actually hard work. I’m busing tables and waiting on people in the café area. Nothing much interesting on my second day either.” Lei traced the “om” symbol on her wrist with a finger, the phone caught between her shoulder and ear.

“It’ll be interesting to see what the FBI think of the cult angle as a lead, what they make of your undercover operation. I’ll probably use J-Boy on the cadaver hunt since you’ll be busy waiting tables for the health food store.”

“I’m happy to miss the hunt. I live right on the river, so I know firsthand how hard you’re going to have to work. So how are you and Fury getting along?”

“It’s professional. Once I showed him who’s boss, we’ve been fine.”

Lei laughed. “Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s just waiting for you to trip up.”

“Yeah, it’s all right. So, keep me up to speed on anything you see or hear tomorrow.”

“Of course.” A long pause. Lei found herself reluctant to close the phone. Memories of being in his arms flashed through her mind, lighting nerve endings like tiny electric shocks. She listened to his breathing across the miles, a tangible connection.

Not so many miles that they couldn’t be crossed.

“I miss you. Can I come over, bring some Chinese for dinner?” He was the first to say what they were both thinking.

“I don’t think that’s a such good idea,” she said softly. “It can’t lead to anything—and I can’t trust myself alone with you.”

Another long pause.

“I don’t give a shit where it leads,” Stevens said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re making me crazy.”

She pictured dark brows lowered over laser-blue eyes, the hard set of his mouth. His rough-planed face was better than handsome. It was lived in, intelligent, charismatic. Sexy.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to come here. You’re making me crazy too, because I can’t be with you. I can’t be what you want!” Lei cried.

He hung up, an abrupt severing.

“Dammit!”

She couldn’t seem to stop hurting those who wanted to love her. She was messing with Alika’s head now, too. God, how she hated herself—and it was all Charlie Kwon’s fault. That pedophile was the one who’d made her Damaged Goods. He was the one who’d made sure she was too fucked up to know how to love.

Or be loved.

She felt an overwhelming urge to cut herself, to feel that purging fire of pain that somehow released inner anguish and sometimes brought relief. Her mind pictured the knife drawing a shallow line of welling blood. Maybe she’d carve their names into her arms. Blood and darkness, that was all that was in her; that was all she was.

Self-loathing mounted, that she was even so tempted, that she could regress so far even in her own mind. She looked at the insides of her arms, laced with white threads of scar tissue from the past, rubbed them hard, a replacement she’d learned in therapy. Keiki, who’d been napping at her feet, leapt up to nose her, whining.

Lei went down into the darkened yard and threw herself into her Tae Kwon Do routine. In the dark, kicking, spinning, and leaping, her mind emptied of confusion. Chest heaving, legs trembling, she eventually exhausted herself until there was nothing to do but go to bed, hoping things were better tomorrow.

Chapter 23

Wednesday, October 27

“Hey, your tip about Hines’s mother paid off.” Jenkins’s voice was becoming her lifeline as she checked in during her midday break the next day at the Health Guardian. “Fury said to thank you for the intel you gave him yesterday. They’ve got a line on Hines—he took a plane off Kaua`i a few days ago to Oahu. We have an alert on him at the airports and the Oahu PD is looking for him.”

“Anything confirming Hines was involved with the ice production?”

“Yeah. His name is on some orders for supplies used at the Island Cleaning factory. They also got one of the cleaning team people; she’s talking about the whole operation as we speak. Anything new at your end?”

“No. I’m starting to think Jazz is just doing this to get me as a free slave.” She’d tied the wig back, but she was overheated, as usual. Her phone chimed and she saw an incoming call from Alika. “Anything else?”

“No. Check in tomorrow, Sweets.”

“Will do.” She clicked the phone over to the new call. “Hello?”

“Hey, Ginger. Any news on Lisa?”

“Investigation’s proceeding. Thanks for your intel; you’ll probably be getting a call from the main investigator, Detective Furukawa.”

“Sounds like you can’t tell me anything. That’s okay. I was just wondering if you wanted to come for a swim after work.”

“God, that sounds perfect.” Lei swiped her damp brow with a forearm. “But I’m a long way from being off.”

“No worries. I didn’t mean at my house anyway. Somewhere special, out on the North Shore.”

“Oh yeah. Today’s totally sweaty; I can’t wait to jump into something cool and wet.”

“Okay. I’ll tell you how to get there.” He gave directions.

The location was only another fifteen minutes past her house. Rejuvenated by the prospect of going swimming, she went back into the café just as Jazz led a tall man out of his office.

“Lani, meet my brother, Cal. Cal, this is Lani, my newest employee.”

“Hi.” Lei had the reading glasses on, blurring the edges of a craggy face, and she took them off and shook the calloused hand that met hers. “Didn’t know you had a brother on island. Good to meet you.”

“Hello.” Cal had dark eyes, shared his brother’s lean build, and his skin was leathery, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun. “Pleased to meet you too.”

The distinctive scent of marijuana clung to him like musk.

“Cal works on an estate out on the North Shore.”

“Oh, I love it out there. So spiritual,” Lei burbled, in character.

“Don’t know what you mean. It’s just land, and a lot of work to keep nice.” Cal shook his head.

“Oh. Well, I just think, the energies . . .” She was left staring after Cal as he turned and walked away. She glanced at Jazz.

“He’s not much of a people person,” Jazz said. “Looks like you’ve got some customers.”

“Looks like I do,” Lei said, and went to the juice bar.

She’d been getting used to people affirming her vague comments about “energies” and “mana” and “spiritual centers,” and Cal’s rebuff snapped her out of that. She’d even kind of begun to believe it. Maybe it was Esther’s influence. Kaua`i seemed to bring out the paranormal in people.

“Detective Texeira.” Lei looked up, eyes widening at the sight of Kelly Waterson, a stack of flyers pressed against her pillowy chest. “I thought it was you.”