H
ave some coffee.” I poured her a mug of the bitter dark brew. She accepted it and sat at the lounge table with her hands around the warm mug as if she were cold, but did not drink it. She had stopped crying and seemed calm, almost serene, now that she had made up her mind to speak of what had disturbed her.
I sat across from her and waited. Sometimes people need only a sympathetic ear. They do not expect you to solve their problems for them. Just talking it out with someone you trust will give you the tools to work out your problems.
Donna needed someone who could listen. She already knew that I had the talent. David, most likely, did not have it. Not yet. He was young, and smart, and could learn it, but he had not yet mastered the skill.
She shuddered, took a sip of the Kona, and looked at me. Behind the calm surface of her eyes, a storm of emotion was raging. “I wanted to kill him,” she said.
“Hayes?”
She nodded. “I went to his house this morning. Before the sun came up. His lights were on. I don't believe I would have had the courage to wake him up, otherwise, but they were on and since he was already awake, I pounded on his door. I wished ⦠I
wanted to give him one more chance to stop publication before it is too late. He laughed at me.”
She took another sip of coffee and shook her head, as if trying to rid her thoughts of the confrontation. When it didn't work, she continued. “He said that this was much bigger than I could understand. He said ⦠that I was a girl, a student, who could not understand the larger issues. I needed ⦠I needed more years before I could appreciate the opportunity ⦠that lay before me.
“I lost it then. I just lost it. That never happens. I always keep myself under control. It's my family's way.”
She shook her head, as if not believing what she had done. “I started screaming at him, right at his front door. I said things I have never said to another person. Not ever. Unthinkable things.”
She looked at me. “I threatened to kill him if he published the article. I said it loudly enough that half of St. Louis Heights must have heard me.” She shuddered again. “He grabbed me and pulled me inside the house and shut the door. He is an old man, but big, and I am a small woman. I felt trapped. I did not know what he was going to do to me.”
She closed her eyes. “I did something else I've never done before. There was a vase on a table, a big ceramic thing with flowers in it. When he shut the door he just kept dragging me back to the rear of his house. I grabbed the vase and I hit him with it. It broke and ⦠he let me go. Water went everywhere. I ran to the door and escaped. I got into my truck and drove away.
“I never hit anybody in my life. Not once. Not even as a child. I hit this man because he frightened me.” She sighed, her lip trembling, as if she was going to cry again.
I waited, knowing there was more.
“He didn't fall down when I hit him, but he cried out and he released me. I'm sure I didn't hurt him very badly. But can they arrest me for hitting him?”
“That's battery. I'm sure you could say that you feared for your life. That would make it self-defense.”
“But I could be arrested?”
“I suppose so. You'd have to ask Kimo. He'd know.” I took my
cellular phone from its charging cradle and offered it. “You want to call him?”
She shook her head. “I don't want to call attention to my crime. Hayes will file a complaint and have me arrested. He's that kind of man.”
“Can anyone prove you were there?”
She nodded.
“The neighbors? They couldn't know who you were, unless they took down your license plate. I don't know if you'd notice this or not, but there's probably a zillion attractive Asian women on this island about your age.”
She shook her head again. “There was a witness. Actually, two.”
“In the house?”
“Yes. A big man. PolynesianâI'm not sure from where, but he was big and he wore a yellow tee shirt and red shorts. He was sitting in the living room when Hayes pulled me in. He saw it all, but he didn't move to stop Hayes from dragging me, or to stop me from hitting Hayes. He just sat there and watched the whole thing.”
“You said two.”
“There was another man. In the kitchen. I caught a glimpse for an instant but I didn't see his face. Just a shadow, a slender figure.”
“Happened that quick?”
“Yes, but the one on the couch had time to stop me. I had to run by him to get out the door.”
“It wasn't his fight. Some people are like that.”
She nodded. “I was one of those. But not now.”
“Did you see the men before you hit Hayes?”
She shook her head. “I was too afraid.”
“No. You saw the other men. That's when you hit Hayes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just remember that you saw two other men in Hayes's living room before you hit him. That way, the truth is there, up front. A small woman, being dragged into a house with three large men
inside. What you did is self-defense. Nobody can blame you for anything.”
“I understand.”
“This is your freedom you're talking about. Once it gets into the courts, the truth means nothing. It's how you present your story. That's all that counts.”
I gently pushed the telephone across the table. “You had better call Kimo and tell him what happened. From what you told me, it was a foiled kidnapping. You were in fear for your life. You defended yourself and got away. It's that simple.”
“But I'm going to be arrested?”
“Not necessarily. Not if you file the police report first. Maybe Hayes will be arrested.”
She nodded, thinking it over. I could tell that she liked that possibility.
“What did you do afterward? Why did it take you so long to get to the boat?”
“Oh ⦠I drove around. Up to the north shore. To that park near Chinaman's Hat where I knew I could think. I wanted to come to the boat, but I was afraid that they would find me there. I didn't know where to go. I'd never faced anything like this before.”
“Why didn't you call us? We could have helped you right then.”
“I was too ashamed of what I had done.”
“Did you notice anybody following you?”
“I didn't see anyone.”
I pointed out the porthole. She couldn't see the other boat, but she knew what I meant.
“If news of the treasure gets out, and you're linked to it, you would be a pretty popular person. That Hawaiian group, Silversword, is demanding to know the location of your find. Lots of people want to know where you might be going.”
“Yes. That's the truth, isn't it?”
“You had a police escort. Why didn't you take advantage of that?”
“I didn't think they would have allowed me to go to Hayes's house.”
“You planned on going there?”
“I wanted to give him one more chance. He was my adviser. He was my teacher. I once trusted him. I wanted it to be like it once was.”
Didn't we all wish it were so? “And now you're afraid you'll be arrested.”
“That would ruin everything. I would be humiliated. And I could not dive on the site until it is cleared up, and every day is precious. We have so much more work to do there, and I cannot miss a day.”
“What's the rush? You might be delayed a couple of days, but in the end you would be released and could go right back.”
“Don't you listen to the news?”
“I try not to.”
“There are earthquake swarms on the Big Island. They are saying that there might be a new eruption.”
“Moana Loa?” It had last erupted in the eighties and nearly inundated Hilo before the lava flow stopped, literally, at the suburbs. Kilauea continuously erupted, but that was on the other side of the island, more than a hundred miles away.
“Hualalai.”
“Where's that?”
“Right on the Kona Coast. It's a shield volcano. Directly above the site.”
“I didn't even know there was an active volcano there.”
“I told you that first day I met you. It is a small vent, but powerful. It last erupted in 1802. During the reign of Kamehameha the Great.”
“This is the one?”
“No one is certain, but the Volcano Observatory issued a warning yesterday. It could erupt at any moment.”
“And this lava flowâthe site is right in its path?”
“Historically, the flow covered the shallow entrance of the ancient lava tube where the tomb was hidden.”
“And that's where you want to dive?”
“Yes. We have to finish our work.”
“Okay.” That's what I said. Calm on the outside, nerves of steel. What I wanted to say was, “Holy Cow! A volcano!” But I managed to control myself.
“Our lava here doesn't flow very fast. Hawaiian volcanoes are not like other ones in the world. There are no pyroclastic flows that run down the mountainside at hundreds of miles per hour, the kind of killer flow that destroyed Herculaneum and Pompeii. Unless enough ground water mixes with the buried magma plume under pressure, our lava here is slow and gentle.”
“What happens if the water does mix?”
“Then we have a violent detonation. Hanauma Bay is an example. It blew the side of the crater out to sea. Kilauea exploded twice in historic times, once in 1790 and again in 1924. It nearly destroyed Hilo.”
“Encouraging.” I was having trouble keeping my cool. Hilo was more than thirty miles away from Kilauea. And this young lady wanted to park my boat directly in the path of a rumbling caldera. I smiled, hoping I didn't look like a jack-o'-lantern.
“But we would have many days' warning.”
“That's comforting.”
She smiled for the first time all morning.
“You make me laugh, Mr. Caine.”
“You frighten me, young lady.”
“You cannot dive, anyway. You still have your stitches in.”
“That's true.”
“Then why are you worried?”
“Force of habit,” I said, nudging the cell phone. “You need to make a phone call. Tell Kimo what happened. File a police report. Get it official before Hayes does. Then let me talk to him.” I looked out the porthole, wondering if our friend was still back there. “I want to see if he can get these guys off our tail so we can put you to work.”
I
returned from the lounge and took the wheel from Charles.
“Watch your heads, everybody,” I said. “We're going to come about.”
Four pair of eyes swiveled in my direction, faces with blank looks stared back at me.
“I don't want you finding out the hard way why these things are called booms.”
Comprehension blossomed. My passengers ducked and we turned abruptly, swinging the long heavy boom of the mast around with the wind and momentum, and then cut across the path of the following craft.
“Where are we going?” asked Charles.
“Back to port.”
“We forgot something?”
“We're going to lose something.”
The motorsailer continued on its course, but I saw a lot of activity in the cockpit behind the superstructure.
Charles pointed, and asked almost laconically, “We going to ram them?”
“Just give them a little something to think about. Felix!”
He had been watching through the field glasses. “It's the
Iola
out of Honolulu.” He read the registration number he had written on a pad.
“Keep them in sight. I want to know what they're doing.”
“You're on a collision course.”
“I know.”
Donna came up from the lounge, the telephone still in her hand. She saw the other boat and that we were closing in on them and looked at me for information.
“Tell the Coast Guard it's the
Iola.
Out of Honolulu,” I told her.
She repeated the name of the boat into the telephone, listened to the reply, then hit the END button. She sat on a cushion near the cabin wall and waited.
Someone in the cockpit of the motorsailer started waving as it became clear we were not going to change course.
Olympia
sailed on, serene and majestic, and headed directly toward where their amidships would be if one of us didn't change course. I was confident that they would change course.
Olympia
was larger than the
Iola
and might sink the smaller craft if we really did collide. But in order for them to avoid us they would have to change course, and they would lose the wind in their sails. What I was doing was against the rules, but then following us wasn't nice, either. I could not prove that they were following us, but we were not in a position to take the chance. If they were just a bunch of nice people out for a sail I could get in trouble for this. That thought made me smile. How much more trouble could I be in?
Kimo had called the Coast Guard. Whether they had nefarious intent or not, the only thing the Coasties could do was conduct a safety inspection. Having the blue jackets board would slow them down until we were well on our way and out of sight.
Which brought something to mind.
“Charles, you know where the life jackets are?”
He looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. Then he nodded.
“Break them out. This part of the ocean is about to be visited by the United States Coast Guard. I don't want them to think we're not following their rules, either.”
He nodded, understanding brightening his face, along with a broad smile.
“What's the plan?” Felix asked, his eyes still glued to the big night glasses.
“You see any life jackets on those guys?”
“Not a one.”
“I called Kimo to get these guys off our backs. He couldn't do anything, but together we thought of calling the Coast Guard. The motorsailer isn't doing anything wrong. It's a big ocean out here and people can sail anywhere they damn well please. But the Coast Guard can stop and search any vessel for safety violations. They do it all the time.”
“Safety inspection?”
“Why not? You think these guys are sailors?”
He looked again. Two of the men aboard were running forward to wrestle with the foresail. There was a lot of loud, profane discussion going on, parts of which echoed across the water. “It doesn't look like it.”
“The Coasties love to board marginal sailors. They always find the most interesting stuff aboard. I'll bet you that's a rental, but even so they're overloaded. Too many people for the life-saving equipment. And I'll bet on recreational drugs.”
“So we're going to wear those bright orange things while they're around?”
“You think it clashes with your outfit?”
His look told me that my remark was beneath contempt.
“We'll wear them until the Coasties leave. And then we can break out the skull and crossbones and the cutlasses again.”
“If they stop them, why won't they stop us?”
“The fix, as they say, is in.”
He smiled. “You have a devious mind, Mr. Caine.”
“Yes. I do. Don't ever forget that.”
“What if we hit him?”
“We won't.”
The motorsailer backed off from its course, its sails luffing, and
we passed in front of them by less than twenty feet. One of the beefy young men at the bow gave us the finger as we sailed by. I smiled and waved back.
The sweet smell of marijuana drifted across the water toward us.
“Bingo on the recreational drugs.”
“You can be the biggest asshole when you want to be, can't you?”
“Just showing them who the big dog is, that's all.”
“I think I shall always cherish the original misconceptions I had about you.”
Iola
turned in a wide circle, trying to follow us. I calculated our relative positions, and then turned the wheel.
“We're coming about again,” I said to my passengers.
This time I didn't have to explain myself. We swung around and sailed by the motorsailer as it had completed its turn. This time Charles and Felix tossed bright yellow water balloons as we closed on them. One missed, hitting the water beyond, the other splashing harmlessly against the cabin.
“It's war!”
“Where did you get those?”
Charles grinned. “Filled them up when I saw those guys following us. Thought we might have some fun.”
“You have more?”
“Sure.” He handed me a red balloon.
I gauged our positions and shouted, “Coming about!”
While we turned everybody started scrambling for balloons. Charles was down in the galley filling them as fast as he could and tossing them up to the cockpit.
This time it took nearly twenty minutes to run them down because they tried to evade us. But we were bigger and faster, and we eventually caught them from behind, coming alongside, momentarily matching their speed while everyone aboard
Olympia
unloaded water balloons onto the hapless crew.
We soaked the men at the wheel.
One of the big men went below and came back with a shotgun.
“Oh, my, he doesn't want to play any more,” said Felix.
“Fuck you, haole!” said the man with the shotgun. He carried it at port arms, not threatening, but the potential was there.
“I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce!” shouted Felix.
“Coming about!” I heeled
Olympia
hard to starboard as soon as I saw the gun, catching the breeze, taking us away from them as fast as the wind could carry us.
“They're following,” said Charles.
“Go fill up some more balloons.”
“All out.”
“Then we'll just have to outrun them. Can't fight without ammunition.”
He laughed. Then he pointed. “Here comes the cavalry,” he said.
A white and orange forty-one-foot patrol boat was steaming toward us. I adjusted course and began turning again.
“Coming about!”
The boom swung again.
Olympia
turned and we resumed our original course toward the west coast of Molokai.
The motorsailer turned, too, trying to follow us.
Behind us, I heard the
whoop, whoop, whoop
of the Coasties' siren. I looked back. The patrol boat was closing in on the motorsailer. Two seamen dressed in blue denim stood at the bow; one had a loudhailer to his mouth, ordering the
Iola
to heave to.
“Victory is sweet,” I said. “It's time to break out the cocktails.”
Felix looked at his watch. “It isn't even eleven o'clock in the morning.”
“Then break out the grapefruit juice. I just want to celebrate our little victory.”
He glanced back at the patrol boat, now alongside the smaller motorsailer.
“How long will they delay them?”
“An hour, minimum. But they're going to give it a thorough inspection. When they discover that the young men on board are carrying illegal substances, the boat could be confiscated.”
“Is
that
what we smelled?”
“Oh, yeah. They got plenty
pakalolo
, you bet.”
“You play rough,” he said.
I nodded. “We wanted them off our tail.”
“Jesus.”
“Forget about them.”
Donna stared at the patrol boat and the motorsailer, blue-clad Coasties swarming over the smaller craft, the tableau slowly vanishing in the distance. Then she looked at me.
“Safety inspection?”
I nodded.
“Just like that?”
I smiled. “What did you want me to do, shoot them?”
She shook her head. “I do not want any violence.”
“Me, either.”
“Grapefruit juice?”
“Charles, show her where the cold locker is, will you?”
He got up and climbed down the ladder to the lounge. As he passed me he said, “I know now why you wanted me to come along.”
“Always need a gopher, kid.”
“Thanks.”
“But the thing is, you're such a
good
gopher.”
He nodded, and disappeared, and I couldn't help but see the smile on his face before he was lost from sight.