Page 32 of Talk Story

“No. Whatever they’ve been using this place for, they cleared it out before dropping me here, and they haven’t been back since. I searched for a way out but couldn’t find one.” Emerson rolled carefully to his knees. “I’d like to get out of here, if you don’t mind.” He wriggled his swollen hands; deep purplish marks from zip ties marked his wrists.

“Whenever you’re ready, Dr. Emerson. Can you walk?” I asked.

“Anything to be out of this building,” he said. “I’ll crawl if I have to.”

With Keone on one side and me on the other, we assisted him out of the warehouse into the glare of the headlights used for illumination. “You’ll have to ride with us,” I said. “The police SUV is full.”

“I’ll take him,” said Pali Moku, emerging from the darkness. “Nainoa! Mahalo ke Akua that you’re alive!” The young archaeologist’s hair was wild, and his clothing streaked with mud; but there was no doubting his sincerity as he embraced his mentor. “Come. I’ll take you in my truck.”

Malia Peahi hurried after them. “We still need an official statement. I’ll drop the team off and then meet you at the Hana urgent care.”

Keone followed, drawing up beside Pali as he reached his truck and opened the passenger door for Dr. Emerson. “Did you find the archive?”

“No,” I heard the young man say, but something in Pali’s body language—I frowned. I didn’t believe him.

Lei swung in to stand in front of me; she put her hands on her hips. “So. Is that offer of an overnight with you and Aunt Fae still open? I need to be back in Kahului early tomorrow to chase that warehouse warrant, but I need some shut-eye first. I’ll be leaving before it’s even light out.”

“Absolutely. Keone and I will take you back to my place.”

Keone gave Lei his front seat. He was quiet in back as I drove the three of us, following Pali in his truck with Dr. Emerson, then the police SUV, back to Ohia.

Keone’s silence was potent, as if he was processing something he wasn’t ready to say yet. I’d learned to give him space for that, the same way he gave it to me.

Plus, I was beat.

So was Lei—she’d fallen asleep, her head wedged between the door and the headrest. Because of that, I tried to take the bumps in the dirt road as slow and easy as I could. We fell well behind the other two vehicles—but that didn’t matter. We weren’t a part of whatever came next, and for once, I was glad.

“Nainoa Emerson,” my fiancé said softly, leaning forward to speak to me; Lei didn’t stir. “He built his career trying to serve the Hawaiian people. Make up for some of what his family did in taking so much land.”

So that was what he’d been mulling on.

“Mmm.” I glanced in the rearview mirror and met Keone’s eyes briefly as I whispered. “Maybe. We don’t know much about him, and he didn’t mention if he was interrogated about the carvings and what they meant. And as we established, he’s one of only a handful of people who could interpret them for the Chang operation.”

“Yeah. Seems like a big omission if they did try to get him to interpret the carvings.”

“It’s a police matter now,” Lei said; clearly she hadn’t been sleeping. “Let Malia do her job. She’ll get whatever we need to know out of him.”

“I like your confidence in her,” I said.

Lei shifted her position and sighed. “I’ve been doing this cop thing long enough to know I can’t cover everything—and my day has been long enough. Tomorrow seems like more of the same—and my bones want bed. As my kids say, ‘Are we there yet?’”

“Almost.” I braked at the spot where we’d met Dr. Patel; it seemed like a lifetime ago. “Keone, it’s so late. Why don’t you stay with me tonight?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said. Our eyes met in the mirror for a heated moment before I turned onto the Hana Highway. Lei stared out the window, deliberately ignoring the vibes as the pearl in the ring on my right hand caught the light from the dash and gleamed like a wink.

Tiki, in her carrier on the back seat beside Keone, began to purr—and she kept that motorboat rumble going all the way home.

9

Lei called when I was in the post office at nine a.m. the next morning, sorting the mail delivery. “I have a warrant for the Kahului warehouse and, if we find the petroglyphs there, we’ll have enough probable cause to bring Chang and Santos in for questioning.”

“That’s great. Fingers crossed we intercept those stones before they leave for Singapore,” I said, the phone sandwiched between my ear and shoulder as I threw several General Delivery envelopes into their slot.

“I also heard more about Emerson from Malia. He’s at Hana Medical Clinic, still in one of their treatment rooms, dehydrated with a mild concussion—but expected to go home today. According to his testimony, the kidnappers didn’t take him into the caves. Meanwhile, Dr. Patel handed off her summary to Edith Pepperwhite for the court filing and is hoping to finish the formal archeological NAGPRA application at some point, with Dr. Emerson now available. That woman’s been working around the clock and hasn’t left the shack—good thing there’s a bed there.”

“I know. I dropped off fresh coffee and some of Aunt Fae’s banana bread to her this morning,” I said. “She seemed like she’d been up all night.”

“I was impressed with her too,” Lei said. “Initial impression of her officially revised. Between documentation, Emerson’s testimony and records, the journal, the records, and Sophie’s financial trail, we should have enough to put a stop to the Chang development project in Sacred Valley.” Lei paused; I could picture her rubbing that bone hook she kept in her pocket. “But here’s something that worries me. Chang must know the noose is tightening. His rental car movement was flagged in our new system, though we lost him after the last traffic cam. He’s in a black Escalade and drove toward Hana this morning—but not toward the development site, which is approached the back way—he went to Hana town.”