Strangely, the noise ebbed. Briefly. Replaced, suddenly, by a new, even more terrifying sound: a megaphone. “This is the police! Party’s over!” was shouted over said megaphone to deleterious effect. And, no, this was
not
part of our plan.
It was a gross understatement to say that the revelers were disappointed that their party was, as was notified,
over
. In fact, they didn’t take it lightly. Or quietly. Or peacefully. In other words, all hell quickly, loudly, and agitatedly broke loose. And mob violence in a small, cramped condo is not something you want to witness firsthand. Fortunately (?), we were still in the bathroom, but even secondhand was no fun.
It was like a Batman comic strip come to life.
Pow! Bam! Crash! Ouch!
And then
Knock! Knock! Knock!
And then “
This is the police! Open up!
”
I looked to Brandon. He looked to me. “We’re fucked,” I said.
“Boo-yeah,” he agreed with a nod, unlocking the door and slowly opening it up.
Four policemen were there to greet us. “You the whores?”
“Strippers,” we corrected.
Which didn’t make the handcuffs feel any better as they were clamped down behind our backs. We glanced around upon our exit from the john. The place was in shambles, the partiers either leaving of their own accord or handcuffed, like ourselves. We were then summarily shoved to the front door, just as Will made it up the stairs. After all, it was supposed to have been him bringing us in.
He looked at us with his mouth hanging open, trying, I could tell, to suppress a wry grin. “Don’t worry,” he mouthed.
“Easy for you to say,” Brandon yelled back as we were taken away.
***
They threw us into the back of one of the squad cars and read us our rights through the dividing sheet of meshed wire.
“Well, Lucy,” I said soon thereafter, “out of the frying pan...”
He finished my train of thought with, “And into the jail cell, Ethel.”
And that is, indeed, where we ended up. After, of course, the booking, fingerprinting, and picture taking. Oh, and that one phone call we were allowed. Jed, needless to say, was none too thrilled at hearing from us so soon. “Bail is coming out of your share,” he informed, hanging up on us.
He arrived an hour later, handing over his ID upon arrival.
He saw us from across the station but didn’t even bother to nod or wave. Instead, he grimaced and looked the other way.
“Fucker,” I said, watching and waiting for his inevitable comeuppance.
That, of course, came a split second later. And then the grimace was really and truly well-deserved.
See, it’s never good to hand over your identification to the police, in a police station, when there’s been an APB issued for your arrest for kidnapping, murder, and blackmail, just to name a few. And, trust me, the list went way beyond those few. Those were merely the highlights.
And he didn’t go quietly into the night. No sirree.
“Hey, let me go,” he shouted, kicking and screaming as several cops surrounded him and took him down, smashing his face to the cement floor. “Do you know who I am? I’ll have your badges for this!” And then he ran off a list of names of all the people he’d call to get those badges.
Now then, wouldn’t you know it, those exact same people all had APBs out for them as well. They were, after all, the same names that were on Yamasuka’s list. The same list that was now in the hands of the FBI, provided, as planned, by Will.
Not that anything could be proven right off the bat, mind you, but the ball was rolling. Fortunately, the feds also had Liko’s CD. Meaning the ball was amply greased to boot. And it wasn’t only Jed who was arrested that evening. The night officer, Sergeant Sloan, was also taken in right on the spot. As was a certain other officer. Yep, their names were also on the same list. Not that it took Will all that long to figure out that Sloan had to be one of the two policemen we’d heard from the other side of the surfboards. The same one Sergeant Beles had spoken to the night Will was abducted. The one who, we figured, must’ve killed Beles and hidden the fact that Will had been captured, thereby preventing Will’s superiors from sending reinforcements.
In fact, a good dozen people were arrested that night, booked under suspicion of numerous crimes, and all tied together to the late, not-so-great Yamasuka. Most were quickly released on bail, pending further investigation. None were allowed to leave Oahu. Fortunately, as has often been stated, the island was small. No place to run to, no place to hide. And, now, no more strings to pull.
Jed, thank goodness, was stupid enough to show up with that gun of his still in his pants. Not that he left any clues after he killed Yamasuka, but, I mean, it was from that same gun that he sent a minimum of three people to their early graves. In other words, Jed wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
As for me and Brandon, Will arranged for our release a short while later, no one being the wiser that any of the three of us were involved in what had just transpired, except, of course, his boss. Who, in time, would get a very truncated version of our story. I mean, who would believe the whole damn thing anyway?
In any case, Koni would be safe.
In more ways than one.
***
Will drove us back to our hotel just after that. We’d already phoned ahead, and our friends and our drinks were waiting for us, as were three rocking chairs on the front porch of the Moana.
“What’s new?” Briana asked, all smiles, handing us our hurricane glasses filled, thank goodness, to the brim.
“Not much,” I replied, collapsing in my proffered chair. “What’s up with you two?”
The five of us rocked and stared out at the street, the moon casting a lovely glow over the peaceful scene in front of us.
“Not much on our end,” Koni eventually replied. “I did get an interesting phone call, though.”
I turned to look at him. He was smiling big and wide and bright. “Really? From whom?”
We all turned to look his way, Brandon and I from his right side, Briana and Will from his left. “Mrs. Hallanah. Seems she just got a call from the police. Lenny has been cleared of all the charges against him.”
I grinned, the smile bittersweet, looking to Will for information. “It was on the CD, too,” he informed. “Lenny was set up. What a shock.”
I laughed and closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer for him.
“Um, but that’s not all,” Briana soon added.
I pried my eyes open and looked her way. “Really, there’s more than that?”
She nodded, her rocker suddenly going still. “Once they cleared him, they also unfroze his bank account.”
And then five rockers were no longer rocking. “How much?” I asked, my breathing instantly growing shallow.
To which Koni replied, rather cryptically, “Well, now, that depends.”
“On what, kid?” Brandon asked, downing his drink in one anxious gulp.
“On when Liko’s insurance policy gets cashed in,” he replied. “The settlement would then be added to the hundred thousand that’s already going to go to Lenny’s next of kin. Liko had no close family, it seems, so he left everything to Lenny, or, barring that, to Lenny’s parents. Guess he truly loved him, after all.”
“How much?” I asked, yet again, a trickle of sweat cascading down my forehead.
“Five million,” he told us, the chair again rocking as he started to laugh. “And not in fucking yen, Cute Dude. No way, no fucking how.”
***
Three months went by in the blink of an eye.
Time, you see, really does go by fast when you’re having fun.
And, man, was I having fun.
Oh, and, no, I still didn’t have a job. For that matter, I still didn’t need one. Not just yet, anyway.
I mean, I did still have a large chunk of that load of cash of mine. Okay, that and the additional fifty thousand. Yep, remember that rhinestone necklace Yamasuka gave me for -- well, oh come on, now, you remember; please don’t make me go through all that again. In any case, turns out those weren’t rhinestones.
Guess I made a convincing woman (hooker) after all.
Plus, I was only paying half my rent now. See, wouldn’t you know it, but there’s an FBI office in San Francisco, too. And a star agent such as Will had no problems getting a transfer.
He came up from behind me, his hands on my shoulders, a tender kiss on my neck. Both of us stared down at my laptop at the email attachment, at the photo of a group of young people, all of them with smiles stretched wide across their faces, Koni’s the widest and the brightest of them all. They were standing in front of a cement building that was well under construction, the ocean stretched out below as far as the eye could see. And over the doorway to the building, a newly added sign: The Lenny Hallanah School for Runaways -- All Are Welcome.
Aloha, Cute Dude
, the email read.
Great place, huh? And there’s really good shopping just down the street.
“Aloha, Koni,” I said, touching my finger to the screen, my own smile now matching his as I flicked off the computer, my head leaning back into Will’s tight abs. “Alo-ha.”
*