Fire Prayer (11 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Haley's game was the only thing David Niwa had looked forward to all day and he was more than a half hour late. Christ, what a day. Two suspicious deaths in a twenty-four-hour period might be a first for the island. Hell, for the whole Maui Police Department, even if one victim had been dead for a week or two. Niwa felt like he still stank from that one, but he had a hunch he smelled worse from the fact he'd been on the run ever since his five a.m. shower. That was more than twelve long hours ago, and the temperature was still about eighty degrees. For April, that was hot—and they said global warming was a myth. And who were
they
, anyway?

Niwa turned into the baseball park's dirt lot, turned off the ignition to his patrol car, and sat for a moment to gather himself. He was off the clock and it was time to shake the stifling mantle of distress he'd worn since finding Jenny Williams. Haley wasn't going to be pitching baseballs much longer; self-appointed sports authorities were going to move her to softball. This is not the time to think about this, he told himself. Light thoughts—no cynicism or bitterness right now. Niwa hauled himself out of the car.

“Dave, I hear you had one busy day.” The second-string shortstop's dad had pulled up next to him. Niwa couldn't remember the guy's name right then. Kind of new to the island, some guy who moved his family from O‘ahu to do aquaculture. Nice enough fellow.

“Yup. You have one, too?”

“Yeah, I hate being late like this. Wonder how we're doing. Hey, I'm glad Haley's pitching.”

Both men looked at the slender figure on the pitching mound. Only the ponytail that stuck out from the back of the cap revealed that the pitcher was a girl. That wasn't a sure tell, either. The catcher, a hundred-eighty-pound twelve-year-old with the beginnings of a moustache, also had a ponytail. Kid needed an exercise program, Niwa thought, then reminded himself that he could use one, too.

The men walked toward the crowd of parents gathered on the sidelines. Caroline waved from the low bleachers and gestured to the seat she'd saved. The other man split off to greet his wife.

“Bottom of the fifth, we're tied two-two,” Caroline said, and kept her eyes on Haley. “She walked two batters.”

Niwa winced. “She's distracted.”

“Probably.”

“You seen Tanner?”

“You're distracted, too.”

“I've got to find him. You heard anything new about Luke?”

“Not since I talked to you.”

Niwa stood. “I'll be right back.”

She shot him a sharp look, but there was nothing he could do. If his child was hospitalized, he'd want to know immediately. Any parent worth his salt would, and Niwa thought Tanner, despite his weaknesses, was a caring parent. He also figured someone had told Tanner about Jenny by now, and he wondered how the guy was coping. The least he could do was reassure Tanner that Luke was being cared for, but he hoped from the bottoms of his aching feet to the top of his sweating scalp he wouldn't have to leave the game to take Tanner to the hospital.

Niwa stood to scan the crowd, but Tanner wasn't among them. Niwa hadn't really expected him to be in the bleachers. He shaded his eyes against the sun to view the other side of the field where a smaller group sat in the shade of a large monkeypod tree.

One of them looked like Connor Richards, and the other three looked like fellow gym rats. No women. Connor was probably the last person on the island Niwa wanted to talk to, but it was likely Tanner had approached Connor if he was looking for either Skelly or Niwa.

The younger Richards brother watched Niwa's every step across the far end of the field, and made sure Niwa knew it. When Niwa was within about twenty feet of the group, Connor stood up and did some kind of shrugging motion that made his trapezius muscles bulge like twin hillocks under his cutaway tank top.

Niwa stifled a derisive snort and addressed his greeting to Jeff Gibson and Mike Ka‘ana, who were beginning to rise from their folding chairs. “Howzit.”

“Hey.” Jeff and Mike stood and offered their hands, which Niwa shook. All three men ignored Connor. The thought crossed Niwa's mind that Connor might start pawing the ground if this went on for long.

“You seen Tanner Williams?”

“You're late, as usual.” Connor did the shrugging motion again, and added a head roll to the motion. Probably thought he looked like Rocky IV—or IX.

Jeff Gibson made sure Connor wasn't looking his way and rolled his eyes at Niwa. “He was here, but he left with Skelly. They went to the hospital.”

“Good, that's what I wanted to know.” Niwa nodded at Jeff and Mike. “Thanks.”

He turned and left. Halfway around the field, he pulled out his cell phone to call his partner and got Steve Nishijima's voice mail. “I'm at the ball field for Haley's game. Gimme a call. Tanner Williams and Skelly Richards are on the way to see Luke at the hospital.”

Niwa hung the phone back on his belt and climbed up in the bleachers next to Caroline, whose face showed relief. “I was afraid you'd have to leave.”

“I think things are under control for the time being.”

“It's about time.” Caroline smiled up at him. “You brought her luck. She struck 'em all out this inning.”

Niwa looked out on the field and was swept with melancholy. Probably it was brought on by the day, but right then he wondered about luck and what, exactly, he could do for his daughter—or anyone, for that matter.

Like Luke, his daughter was at the mercy of so much that was out of his control. Right now she was the starting pitcher, but Casey Onoue, the second-string pitcher, was going to eclipse her in size and strength as soon as surging testosterone hurtled him into puberty. In a few months she'd slide, not completely comprehending why her almighty father couldn't protect her, to the far less admired women's softball league.

Caroline, as if she could read his thoughts—and she probably could—leaned her head against his shoulder. He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. What else could they do?

Chapter Nineteen

In the eighth inning, one of Haley's teammates batted in three runners on a rogue grounder fumbled by the opposing team. Niwa and Caroline rose to their feet with the rest of the parents to roar their delight. Haley took the mound and struck out the next three batters to win the game 5-4. Niwa watched Haley's ponytail, nearly lost in the jubilant huddle of her fellow players, bounce with congratulatory nudges, and his melancholy began to lift. Okay, maybe things weren't so bad after all. His daughter was a winner, and always would be. Even if it was softball. Or the swim team, in which she'd recently expressed interest. His family was fortunate, and he'd better get over his funk and remember.

Niwa looked down at his wife with pride and affection in his dark eyes. “Great way to end a hard day.”

“I'll bet.” Caroline's eyes searched his face. “You look tired.”

“I am. Say, earlier today you mentioned problems Jenny was having. Anything I should know about?”

Caroline gave him a wry smile. “You're always the last one to know.”

“People gossip too much,” Niwa growled softly and looked around at who might overhear their conversation.

“True, but you could keep your ears open.” Caroline gave him a soft punch on the arm.

He gave her a hug. “That's what I've got you for.”

“And you're damned lucky.”

“Not a day goes by, my dearest.”

“Just as long as you know.” She leaned against him as they made their way toward the cluster of players and parents. “Jenny hasn't had it easy.”

Niwa knew better than to rush her. Caroline would reveal what she knew in her own organized way.

“Sue Murakami has known her for a long time.” Sue was a friend of Caroline's from their exercise class. “Jenny used to be a talented sculptor and had a growing reputation on the East Coast.”

“Wow, and I thought she worked at the hospital.”

“That's probably what most people think. She got that job when Tanner took a turn for the worse. I don't know if she's ever been a happy person, but Sue says she's become more bitter over the years.”

“Couldn't she do art on the side?”

Caroline shot him a look. “There are only so many hours in the day. She's a mom, too.”

“So they moved back here and she got a job when he got fired from the pharmaceutical company?”

“Not exactly. He was having problems, true, but when they moved back here, he was still working. He was supposed to see his therapist here and follow up on the work he'd been doing on the mainland. But then he had some kind of breakdown and couldn't work at all. That's when she went to work at the hospital.”

“When was this?” He'd get more from Caroline and her friends than going through traditional channels. He'd be lucky if the doctor admitted Tanner was a patient. He made a mental note to check Jenny's employment records with the hospital.

“A few years after they came back to Moloka‘i. I got the feeling the company paid worker's comp for a while, but finally stopped.”

“You know what year they moved back?”

“About ten years ago. According to Sue, a few months before the fire.” She gave him a meaningful look.

Niwa's face creased with thought. With the discovery of the body in the woods, the same seed of thought had begun to grow in his mind. He was still waiting for confirmation that the body was Brock Liu's, but he already knew the watch and clothes corresponded to items Liu owned. “Does anyone talk about that?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “People usually give each other meaningful looks and change the subject.” She stopped and looked up at him. “Brock Liu's older brother died in that fire, didn't he? What was his name again?”

Niwa nodded. “Alika. All the guys implicated in the protest were friends of Tanner's.”

“Then Tia Rodriguez and little Tommy left, soon after the fire.”

“Do you think she left?”

“Honey, I hope so.” Caroline's voice was low and sad.

They were nearly within earshot of some of the parents.

“So what was Jenny up to lately?” Niwa asked quietly. “Did she fill Luke's insulin prescriptions at your pharmacy?”

“Sometimes. One morning, she came in to pick up some syringes and Ted said he could smell alcohol on her breath.”

“No kidding.” Ted Yawahara, the owner of the drug store, was known for his discretion.

“I think he was worried. He lives down the street from her, you know. There was gossip about her late night visitors, too.”

“As in men?”

“I guess so. He didn't say any more. You know Ted.”

Niwa just nodded. Parents were beginning to look their way and offer greetings, and Haley jogged over to them.

“Dad, you made it.”

“It was the high point of my day,” Niwa said honestly. “You were great, honey.”

The Niwas hung around for the potluck, a traditional after-game occurrence. Four families had brought hibachis and people arranged an assortment of teriyaki chicken, freshly caught fish, hot dogs, steak, and kal-bi on racks over the coals, which had been lit between the eighth and ninth innings. Caroline reached into the tote she'd been carrying and pulled out a covered chocolate sheet cake. Mothers uncovered sushi platters, poke, macaroni salads, greens, fruit, fried rice, char siu bao, Chinese noodles, and various sweets.

As always, Niwa marveled at how efficiently the spread materialized. Folding tables, coolers, and eating utensils appeared. Parents had this system down cold. Normally, he looked forward to these post-game festivities, which went on win or lose, and would pile a paper plate until it sagged. But this night Dave Niwa followed his wife and daughter through the line and helped himself to less food than they did. He even got a Diet Coke, which got Caroline's attention.

When he whispered that he wanted to stop by the hospital to check in on Luke, she agreed. “We'll follow. Haley will want to see him, too.”

A half hour later, they stopped at the front desk to get directions to Luke's room. They were still a half-corridor away when they knew something was wrong. Three nurses and a pediatrician, the same woman Haley saw, shot out of his room.

Niwa's casual stroll turned into what Haley called his cop-walk and Caroline and Haley struggled to keep up.

“Dr. Peterson, is Luke all right?” Niwa called out.

“He's not here, and he needs to be.” The doctor's expression was grim. “His father was in a few minutes ago with Skelly Richardson.”

“Did Luke leave with them?” Niwa was hopeful.

One of the nurses shook her head. “No, Tanner rushed out when he saw Luke was gone. Skelly was trying to keep up.”

The sound of swift footsteps down the hall caught the group's attention. Skelly Richards rounded a corner, his worried eyes scanning the hall.

Skelly practically shouted. “Hey, where is he?”

“Tanner?” Niwa asked. “I thought he was with you.”

“He's freaking out, man. He ran outside.” Skelly's shoulders sagged. “I made Tanner stop for something to eat before we came. If I hadn't…”

“You were helping Tanner.” Caroline put a hand on Skelly's forearm. “Luke was probably already gone.”

Niwa turned to the hospital staff. “When did you last see Luke?”

One of the nurses answered. “I stopped in after his dinner was delivered. That was about six.”

Everyone looked at their watches. It was 7:49.

“He was okay then?” Niwa asked.

“He looked asleep. I went back a half hour later to make sure he ate dinner, but his bed was empty. I figured he was in the bathroom.”

“His food was there?”

She nodded. “He'd eaten some of it, and I thought he was coming back to finish.”

“We think he ate the sliced turkey, fruit cocktail, and pudding,” Dr. Peterson said. “And his roll and butter.”

“He probably took some of it with him,” Haley said.

Everyone looked at the little girl.

“Why's that?” Dr. Peterson asked gently.

“Because he's careful now. He always takes food with him.” Haley reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a napkin-wrapped bundle. She opened it sheepishly. “I brought him a manapua.”

The pork-stuffed bun was dented on one side, but Niwa thought it still looked tempting, especially after hearing what the hospital served.

Caroline hugged her daughter to her.

“Listen, man, we've got to find Tanner,” Skelly said, his voice panicky. “He's flipping out.”

Dr. Peterson cut him off. “We've got to find Luke. He'll die without insulin. Or enough sugar. He's very brittle.” She turned to Niwa. “Can you get some cars out looking for him?”

Niwa was already punching numbers into his phone.

“I just pray we got him stabilized,” Dr. Peterson muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

“When's his next shot due?” Caroline asked.

“At bedtime,” the doctor replied. “About nine-thirty.”

Everyone looked at their watches again.

“How long can he go without it?” Caroline asked.

“That's not the whole problem.” The area around the doctor's mouth was white with tension. “Hypoglycemia could be even worse. His metabolism is up and down. He needs insulin, but his doses are changing, especially with the stress he's under. He'll get disoriented and feel dizzy first. He could misinterpret his symptoms, give himself what would be his normal amount, and put himself in a coma.” She swallowed. “We've got to find him soon.”