Fire Prayer (27 page)

Storm dozed off again.

This time, when Storm turned her head, the tech didn't stop her. Tears wet the sides of Aunt Maile's face. Her voice was so low, Storm had to strain to hear.

“I never thought Dusty would turn into a killer. There was no need.”

Storm's brain felt like it was stuck in road tar. Part of it was shock, she knew. “The letter Jenny mailed from Brock,” she said. “I think he was protecting Makani.”

“Maybe,” Aunt Maile said.

“I wonder if Jenny warned him, or threatened him. Delia told me they'd been lovers.”

“That poor woman.”

“I know.” Storm thought about the other damaged souls, all of them associated with the fire. “Connor called the police, didn't he?”

“And I doubted that young man.”

“Me, too. Everyone did.” Storm thought for a minute. “But why didn't he warn us when he saw us on the road? Before we rode into the valley?”

“Detective Niwa said Connor saw Dusty coming out of Hawai‘i EcoTours when he drove in. Skelly was upset, but wouldn't say why. Connor knew it had to do with Dusty, and worried that Dusty was on his way to Halawa. That's why he called the police.”

Storm thought about what her aunt said. “Detective Niwa said Poele figured out the murder weapon. But I don't understand why he went after us in the forest.”

“He thought the police suspected Connor. But he also knew the sculpture got broken when it was in his possession, not Connor's. It took Poele a while to realize his nightly drinking would make it easy to take it from his living room and bring it back without his noticing.”

“You talked to Poele?” Storm asked.

“For a minute or two. He helped get you out of the woods after Nishijima shot Dusty.”

“I must have blacked out. All I remember is Dusty limping down the path.”

“Forgetting might be a good thing.”

Chapter Forty-three

The smell came to Storm in dreams. Along with it, she would feel a sensation of overwhelming sadness, so oppressive that she couldn't move. She couldn't even struggle. Her bed was turning into an adversary; she dreaded the night.

Storm and Aunt Maile stayed one night in Moloka‘i Hospital to make sure they were stabilized before they flew to O‘ahu for surgery on Storm's collarbone. Aunt Maile needed to see a specialist for her knee.

Storm had no problem remembering that trip, despite the painkillers Dr. Goldbaum administered. What she didn't remember was the story she read in the Honolulu paper once she got home. Dusty Rodriguez had used her for a shield in his shoot-out with the police.

She threw down the paper and barely made it to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes after she tossed her Cheerios, Hamlin called. “Storm, could I come over?”

“Yes, I'd love to see you,” she said, and sent a frantic glance toward Aunt Maile, who was nursing a cup of coffee at Storm's kitchen table.

Aunt Maile looked older than she had a week ago, and the look she gave Storm was sad. “I'll go in the other room.”

Ten minutes later, Hamlin knocked at the door and Aunt Maile unhooked her cane from the back of her chair, took a section of the paper, and limped to the living room.

Hamlin's arm was still in a sling, but he gave Storm a warm hug. “I'm glad you're home.”

“Me too.” There was an awkward pause. “You want some coffee?”

“Sure, thanks.” She handed him a mug, but instead of drinking, he drew a breath as if he were going to dive under water. “Storm, I'm having trouble with things.”

“I know.”

“I worry about you.” He sat for a minute, and turned the coffee cup in his hands without drinking. “And it's hurting me, too.”

“I never wanted you to get hurt.”

“I know. I also hate it when you're in danger.”

Storm swallowed hard. “I don't think I can change.”

“I don't want you to.” Hamlin met her eyes for the first time since he'd arrived. He gave her a small, but warm, smile. “I have to think about whether this is working for me.”

“You want me to move out of the office?”

“No!” He shook his head vehemently. “Look, I've got to go to the mainland for a client. It'll take a couple of weeks, and I'll take another week to visit my mother and sister.”

“You need to get away?”

He shrugged. “I need to reflect, and it'll help if I'm in a different place. You know, to get a perspective.”

“Yeah, I know.” Storm wasn't at all sure she knew. A kind of numbness had come over her, and a great weight seemed to have settled on her chest.

Hamlin stood and walked over to her. He gently kissed the top of her head and let himself out the door.

A moment later, Aunt Maile came back into the kitchen and took Storm into her arms. She held her for a long time.

Aunt Maile spent a week with Storm. They were the walking wounded, and they comforted each other. Aunt Maile was burdened with the knowledge that someone she'd thought was a decent, if not perfect, human being could have been so savage. Storm tried to reassure her, though she had no answers. Storm found deep solace in Maile's company, and the time they spent together was the first time alone they'd had for years.

Storm also drove one-handed to the doctor's for an MRI of Aunt Maile's knee. Uncle Keone monitored both of them with almost hourly phone calls from the Big Island, and threatened to come to O‘ahu at least twice a day. When the surgeon recommended physical therapy before resorting to surgery on Aunt Maile's knee, he relaxed a little.

But Storm's insomnia worsened. Aunt Maile watched Storm's bedroom light go on at two every night, and finally told her she would have to confront the demons that haunted her. Two days after Aunt Maile returned to the Big Island, Storm sat at the Honolulu Airport, shivering in the cold blast of an air-conditioning vent at the Island Air gate. She waited for the eight o'clock flight to Kaunakakai.

Delia would pick her up. They were going to have breakfast together, because the first funeral was at ten. It would be short. The second was at two, and Delia had warned her there'd be a funeral feast. Storm didn't know how she'd bear it. The nightmare of nearly two weeks ago was creeping back. If only she could wake up.

The flight was quick, and Delia was waiting. Storm's spirits went up several notches just seeing her. They hugged, Storm with her good arm. Delia was careful not to press on the side with the sling.

“How're you feeling?” Delia asked.

“Okay.” Storm took in Delia's red, puffy eyes. “Oh hell, about the same as you.”

Delia tried to giggle, but it hiccupped into something else and she wiped at an eye. “I look like shit.”

“I've never seen you without the eyelashes,” Storm said.

Delia really did laugh at that. “How 'bout this shirt?” She pulled at the hospital smock she wore. It was yellow, with blue teddy bears. She also had on sneakers and conservative navy slacks.

“I took a job at the hospital. And I like it. I'm taking some classes.”

“Hey, that's great. When you apply to medical school at UH, let me know.”

Delia looked at her shyly. “Hey, don't laugh. I have to do a lot of work, but I love the classes and Dr. Goldbaum said he'd help me.”

“That would be wonderful,” Storm said, and hugged her again.

“How's Hamlin's shoulder?” Delia asked.

“It's okay, but—”

“Damn. I thought that only happened to me.”

“Hardly,” Storm said, and her voice broke on the last syllable.

“If it weren't nine in the morning, I'd suggest a drink.” Delia shook her head. “We'll have one later, and I'm buying.”

“Thanks.” Storm tried to smile. “And I'll buy when you get to O‘ahu. We'll drink to celebrate then.”

“It's a deal.”

Delia drove an ancient Toyota. Storm could see through rust holes to the road. “Your car?”

“Yup. No more big air-conditioned vans.”

“You miss working at the ranch?”

Delia thought for a minute. “I miss the people there. But I couldn't stay after Dusty died. Too many memories.”

“What about Makani?”

“He'll probably be at the funeral, but I heard he moved back to Maui. I also heard your uncle is bugging him to move to the Big Island and work on Parker Ranch.”

Delia took Storm to a diner in Kaunakakai and both women ordered scrambled eggs, toasted Moloka‘i bread, and fried rice. Delia ordered a side of Portuguese sausage and dumped half of it on Storm's plate.

The thought of the funeral was giving her a stomach ache. Storm ate the eggs, but could only pick at the fried rice. Normally she loved fried rice. One nibble of the sausage was enough. Delia wasn't eating much, either.

After the initial pleasantries, the reason for the visit loomed and neither woman knew what to say. Delia broke the silence. “Took long enough for the police to release the bodies.”

Storm nodded. “Must have been hard on the families.”

“Yeah.”

Storm pushed a piece of sausage around on her plate. “So why'd he do it?”

Delia's shoulders hunched. She knew what Storm was asking. “Remember I told you Jenny was manipulative?”

“I knew she was unhappy.”

“Yeah, well. The only people she was ever really nice to were Luke and Tia. I think she saw herself in Tia, and didn't want Tia's hopes and dreams to die as hers had. Some letters from Tia turned up in Jenny's house. Tia was planning to come back and see her father. Confront him about blaming her for getting raped.” Delia put an entire packet of guava jelly on her toast. “Did you know about that?”

“A bit. Makani alluded to it.”

“Jenny probably told him about the letter Brock had given her to mail if anything happened to him.” She winced. “You find the right person around here, and they'll give you all the dirt on the old families. Brock knew about the Kekapu family line of fire sorcerers, and he found out Makani had studied the chants with his father.”

“But Makani wasn't even at the fire.”

“Didn't matter to Dusty. He believed.” Delia took a bite of toast. “He'd grown up with the legends, and he knew Makani's dad had powers.”

“Why didn't he go to a lawyer and ask some questions? Why'd he…?”

“Get so crazy?” Delia finished.

“Yeah.”

Delia stared out the window of the café as if insight came down on beams of sunlight. “He knew he failed Tia. Hell, Jenny reminded him. Makani was like his son, and his second chance. He was going to protect him.”

“He must have really hated the Lius,” Storm said. “I mean, he bashed Brock's head in.”

“What I don't get is how Brock ended up in the woods. I thought Hamlin had a receipt he'd signed for a kayak rental.”

“I asked Detective Niwa about that. It's one of the few conversations from the hospital I remember. Dusty helped Brock Liu load his SUV at the Ranch, right? Skelly said Brock never showed up at Hawai‘i EcoTours that morning. He was supposed to pick up a kayak and paddle a few miles east to the area around Kalaeloa Lighthouse. I guess the Liu family has land there.”

“Do the police think Dusty followed him from the ranch?”

“That's the theory. But no one at the Ranch said Dusty seemed upset or preoccupied.”

“I wonder if the confrontation didn't just get out of his control.”

“You think that's what happened to Jenny, too?”

Delia thought for a moment. “Jenny probably reminded him of his past failures.”

“So he clobbered her?”

“He'd twisted events in his mind until he snapped. Her cruel tongue just pushed him over the edge.”

“There's another thing I'm curious about. Has anyone figured out how Dusty got hold of the statue? It was in the trunk of Connor's car, wasn't it?”

Delia looked sad. “Connor was too disorganized to notice if it was there or not, and he never locks the car. It would have been easy to take and put back.”

“Such a waste.” Storm pushed her plate away.

“You got that right, sister.” Delia shoved the last of her toast in her mouth and looked at her watch. “We should go.”

Dread sat on Storm's shoulders. She could hardly breathe.

Delia watched her, concerned. “We'll sit at the back where you can get out.”

“Okay.” Her voice was a whisper.

When the two walked into the narthex of the small, airy church, Storm got a whiff of the smell from her dream. It disappeared as quickly as it came, almost like a subconscious message, or memory.

A few people stood around, some of them softly talking, most quiet. Most were making their way to the pews. No one seemed to notice her, though one or two nodded a greeting to Delia.

Delia took her arm. “The two back pews are already filled. Looks like others have the same plan.” She looked around, then pointed. “There's room on the left there.”

Storm saw Detective Niwa and his wife and a number of people from the ranch. Poele sat in a corner near the front, his swollen eyes straight ahead. Makani sat beside him, and Storm saw his shoulders tremble. She had a sense of déjà vu, which haunted her. Poele always had an aura of discontent, but she'd never seen Makani cry. Had she?

She tried to listen to the minister, who did his best to make some sense of Dusty's death. He alluded to the devastating loss of Dusty's daughter and grandson, then emphasized Dusty's devotion to his family and his commitment to his friends.

Except for allowing the police to think one of those friends committed murder, Storm thought. When Poele stumbled up to join Makani, Skelly, Connor, and two other men as a pall bearer, Storm gave him a lot of credit. He looked as if he didn't have the energy to walk, and she felt a lot the same way. She couldn't have done it if she'd been in Poele's shoes. Skelly looked a wreck, and Connor appeared sadder, calmer, and thinner.

Storm and Delia left the church with the rest of the guests. They held each other's arms like they were ninety-year-old grannies, but they looked in better shape than the young woman who leaned into her husband, sobbing as if she couldn't go on.

It was obvious neither she nor her husband lived on Moloka‘i. He was pale and stood out in a dark business suit. The rest of the men wore aloha shirts and slacks. The weeping woman's simple, long-sleeved black dress was also a contrast to local dress.

Storm tried not to stare at the man in the suit. He looked familiar. It was hard to see the woman, because she wiped tears from under large, dark glasses. Two young children stood by, pained by their mother's torment.

Detective Niwa walked up to Storm and Delia. A pretty, dark-haired woman held his hand protectively. “Storm, I don't think you've met my wife. This is Caroline.”

Storm held out her hand, but Caroline reached out with both arms and drew her into a gentle hug. “Thank you again for helping David.” She gave Storm a rueful smile. “Sorry I was a little grumpy on the phone.”

“I understand,” Storm said.

Niwa looked shell-shocked. “I still can't get a grip on this. I grew up with Dusty. We played football together in high school.”

“What was he like?” asked Delia.

“A ladies' man.” A smile shone through the sadness in Niwa's eyes. “Had more girlfriends than the rest of us put together.”

He sighed and turned toward the parking lot. “We better go. Got to do something before the next one.”

He split off. Storm and Delia made their way to the old Toyota.

“The next one.” Storm sounded woeful. “Poor Luke.”

“Yeah. We'd better get going, too. It's a long drive.”

“It's appropriate, though. Tanner would like it,” Storm said, though she dreaded the drive.