“Only if you finish your dinner,” Pono said severely. “Tiare, she going be piss off if you no eat her food.”
“Okay,” Lei said, making herself take a bite. The lau lau were delicious, the lomi salmon salad tangy and tart, but her stomach hurt at the thought of Mary missing. What if the hair in the stalker note was hers? She tried to remember if the timeline could be right.
Someone knocked at the front door and Pono went to answer it, checking through the peephole before taking off the chain and deadbolt. Stevens came in, dropping his duffel beside the door.
Lei took her hand off the Glock in her shoulder holster. She wore it all all the time now, and hadn’t even realized she had been touching the pebbled black stock. She kept eating, struggling to hide the fizzing emotions she felt: frustration at Stevens’ presumption, relief that he was there.
“Hey bruddah,” Pono said, slapping him on the back. Stevens lurched forward. “You still in time for some grinds.”
“Nice,” Stevens said, sniffing the air. “Tiare send something?”
“She trying for fatten her up,” Pono said, indicating Lei with his head. He took a plate out of the cupboard and loaded it up for Stevens, set it down in front of him.
“Hey, Lei,” Stevens said, sitting down. She ignored him.
“Stubborn, you.” Pono said. “You should be saying thanks to us.”
“Tell Tiare thanks,” Lei replied. “You guys are exaggerating this thing. I can take care of myself.” Stevens put his head down and addressed his food, but Pono got back up and piled the dishes in the sink.
“You never know when for quit,” he grumbled. “Just shut up a’ready and let us look out for you.”
Lei leaned back, flipping the matchbook back and forth between her fingers.
“So, Stevens. Want to get a drink after this?” she asked.
“Not particularly,” he said. “And I told you not to call me that.”
“My friend Mary’s missing. She’s a patrol officer with Puna PD. Her boyfriend called earlier. He’s really worried. I thought we’d go look for her at her favorite bar in Puna, ask around.”
Stevens went into cop mode, asking about Roland, how long Mary had been missing, did she have any enemies. Pono packed up the rest of the food and put it into the fridge.
“I’m outta here,” he said. “Gotta get home to my girls now that Stevens can take you to Puna. See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks so much, Pono,” Lei said, getting up and giving him a hug, realizing she’d never hugged him before. He squeezed her tight, lifting her off the ground, and gave her wayward curls a tug.
“You like one sister to me,” he said. “Watch your back out there in Puna and let me know what’s happening.”
“I will.” She relocked the door, turning back to Stevens. “Okay. You done yet?”
“Chill,” he said, forking up another mouthful. His chopsticks were abandoned beside the plate. She picked them up, twiddling them between her fingers.
“You’ll never be a local until you get the hang of these.”
“Fine by me,” he said, finishing his dinner and taking a long drink from his water glass. She was struck by the powerful line of his throat, the light gilding the hairs on the back of his hand, the dark fan of lashes closed over those blue, blue eyes.
“What?” he asked, frowning at her. She started, dropping the chopsticks on the floor, and leaned over to pick them up, hoping to hide her blush.
“We need to get going. Hurry up.”
They got in Stevens’s unmarked police Bronco and rolled out of her neighborhood. He pointed to Tom Watanabe’s house on the corner. The black truck was parked in the driveway and the lights were on, blinds down.
“That Watanabe’s house?”
“Yeah.”
“Seen him around anymore?”
“No, but when I do he’s either working in his yard or washing one of his cars,” she said. “He’s a total neat freak.”
“He’s one to watch. He’s close enough to be the stalker without much effort.”
“I know.” Lei flipped down the visor. Her hair, always difficult, was particularly crazy as it had been a long day without any gel. She twisted it back behind her head and anchored it with a rubber band in a frizzy wad. She saw his grin out of the corner of her eye.
“What?”
“Your hair. It’s like… I don’t know. It’s like a pet or something.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “So frickin’ true,” she said. “But a gentleman wouldn’t say so.”
“Who said I was a gentleman?” he said with a wink. Lei looked out the window, a little rattled. They were on the road going out of town. Banks of high pili grass waved in the moonlight. It reminded her of the car chase after class. I hope I see him again, she thought, when I’m driving my truck.
Chapter 18
Puna was a rough town thirty minutes outside Hilo, near where the flows from Kilauea met the ocean. The town’s economy had been depressed ever since the lava had taken out entire subdivisions in the area in the 1990s. Built like a western town, false-fronted old wooden buildings faced a single main street.
At 9 p.m., when most of the rest of the island was shut up tight for the evening, Puna was just warming up. The doors of the bars and restaurants were open to the streets, light and music spilling out, knots of people clustered smoking outside.
Stevens pulled the SUV into one of the side streets and parked on the shoulder. Lei got out and slammed the door, straightening her jean jacket and unobtrusively checking the Glock in its holster. Stevens waited at the bumper as she bent to touch up her wide mouth with sparkly gloss in the side mirror of the Bronco, running the wand over her lips. She pretended not to notice him watching, feeling his eyes on her like a touch. She straightened abruptly, snapped the wand into the tube and slid it into the pocket of her jacket.
“Puna Music Club was Mary’s sort of home away from home,” she said. “She liked to eat there between her shift and class. I hope they’ll know something.” They strode down the street, through the groups of people. Electric guitars wailed from inside the bar.
Stevens pushed one of the old-fashioned swinging half doors open and held it as Lei followed him in. The smell of sweat and beer hit her along with a wall of sound as a mediocre rock band banged out tunes from the battered stage. The postage stamp dance floor was crowded with people. Lei elbowed her way next to Stevens at the bar, hopped up on a stool. Stevens got the bartender’s attention, ordered two beers, yelled above the din of the band.
“Have you seen Mary? Mary Gomes?”
The bartender flipped the tops off, pushed two green bottles of Heineken toward them.
“Yeah. Who wants to know?”
“We’re friends of hers from the police department.” Stevens showed his badge.
“She came in yesterday afternoon, ordered her usual. She must’ve got a call from someone and been picked up. She left her car in the alley.” The bartender wiped the counter as he talked.
“Has that happened before?” Stevens asked.
“Sure. Not a lot but at least a couple other times I know of,” the bartender said, polishing a glass. He moved off to wait on another customer. Stevens turned to Lei.
“Let’s go check it out.” She nodded, scooping up her beer. They went back out the front of the bar and around the corner of the building.
The Mustang gleamed in the dim light of the alley. They walked around the car, tried the handles. Locked. Guitar music leaked out of a door in the wall next to it.
“Mary would never just leave the Mustang here if she could help it.” Lei pointed to the alley door. “Wonder where this goes?” She gave the handle a turn-it was unlocked.
They went into a run-down hallway. Clearly this was the back way into the Puna Music Club. Loud voices identified the kitchen on the left, and they could see the women’s and men’s bathrooms on the right. Lei stuck her head into the restrooms but there was nothing to see but the well-used facilities.