Damaged Goods. That’s what he’d called her. D.G. for short. He had even called her that in front of her mother, telling Maylene it meant Dear Girl.
Memories roiled up, images that she had stuffed down past knowing. She’d remembered that first time, the struggle even though he’d doped her with cold medicine, and the pain of things never meant for someone so small. That blank space in her memory had kept her from knowing anything more until now. It all crashed back on her with the simple phrase he’d used as he used her.
She longed to escape to that other place, but this time it didn’t work. Like a broken film clip the memories ran. When she realized there was no way to stop him, she’d cooperated-and on some level she’d secretly liked the attention he gave her, the little presents, the protection from her mother… and when he left, she’d cried and missed him.
He’d said he loved her, and she believed it.
Damaged Goods. That was what she was. Shame and self-loathing swamped her and Lei retched some more, and went to bed.
Keiki barking, the deep bellow she reserved for intruders, penetrated the darkness of her dreams. She got out of bed and padded to the bathroom yelling, “Just a minute!”
Pale morning light did bad things to her complexion in the mirror and she couldn’t meet her own eyes as she splashed water on her face and rinsed out her mouth. She went to the front door, put her eye to the peephole.
Michael Stevens stood there. He was holding a bouquet of flowers.
She turned and ran back to the bathroom, stomach heaving as she fell to her knees. Keiki ran back and forth, confused and whimpering.
“Lei! What’s wrong?” She heard Stevens pounding on the door. She raised her head, yelled.
“Go away! I’m sick!”
The pounding stopped. She rested her head on the tub again, tears welling as she thought about Stevens, about the feelings she’d had before she knew what she really was.
Damaged Goods. That’s my name. My destiny.
“Lei? You sure you’re okay? Can I come in, help you or something?”
“No! Seriously, I’m just really sick. Please go away.”
Keiki was staring at the front door, her ears cocked in anticipation. She gave a little greeting bark, recognizing his voice. First time she’s ever done that, Lei thought, and it’ll be the last.
She heard his footsteps walk back and forth on the porch, and then her cell rang, buzzing on the side table where she’d dropped it.
“Lei pick up!” he called. “Let me talk to you.”
“No. Goddamn it, just go away, and let me be sick in peace!”
This heart-cry took the last of her strength, and she slammed the bathroom door and curled up on the mat, sobbing into a towel until no more tears came. It was just all too damn much.
She eventually got up, brushed her teeth, opened the bathroom door. The silence told her Stevens was gone. She knelt, gave Keiki a chest rub. She fed the dog and looked at the table. The unfolded paper seemed alive, a burning, pulsing wound. She put it in a Ziploc bag and stuck it in the freezer. She opened the front door to make sure Stevens was gone. The bouquet of flowers lay wilting on the welcome mat. She slammed the door, armed the house, and went to bed with a handful of Vicodin.
They’d been so sure Jeremy was the stalker! They’d found pictures of her on his phone-and her house at all hours of the day and night, as he tracked her routine. How he’d known about the bath thing she’d still wondered, and now she knew.
He wasn’t the only guy stalking her.
Chapter 43
Pono finally got her to open the door a day later. He held up the browning flowers.
“These yours?”
She snatched them out of his hand.
“You look like shit,” he said, following her into the kitchen.
“Thanks. I feel like shit.”
“So what’s up? Flu? Food poisoning?”
She stuffed the flowers into the overflowing trash can.
“I can’t see Stevens anymore.”
“That’s some flu you got.” Pono sat down, rubbed his lips thoughtfully with his finger. “Want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“Only if you swear not to tell Stevens and you promise to keep this confidential. It’s my case and I don’t want him on it anymore.”
“That’s going to be tough. Man deserves an explanation. He can tell something’s up, something worse than the flu.”
“I’ll deal with him-but you need to keep this confidential.” She dug in the freezer, pulled out the Ziploc bag. Took the letter out, unfolded it.
“Nice smile.” Pono sat forward. He touched the photo. “Who is this sick bastard? This the reason you have an alarm on your house and a Glock under your pillow?”
“The Glock’s where it should be-in the holster hanging on the headboard.” She took a deep breath, tapped the letter. “This sick bastard is Charlie Kwon. He was my mother’s boyfriend when I was nine. He raped and molested me for 6 months. He broke up with my mom and she overdosed. That’s when I went to live with Aunty Rosario.”
“He calls you damaged goods. Bullshit-if you were damaged it’s because he did it to you. No little kid signs on for that.”
“It’s complicated.” Lei picked at her cast. “What this has done is made me realize I’m not fit to be in a relationship. That and I’m probably gonna meet up with this guy and kill him sometime soon. It’s what I do. And frankly at this point I don’t care if I go to jail for it.”
“So do you think he’s the one who’s been stalking you?”
“I think there was Jeremy Ito. The notes, the panties-have been Charlie Kwon.”
“So you were being stalked by two guys at the same time.” Pono whistled. “Popular, you.”
“Yeah, popular. What’s wrong with me that I get all the sickos?”
“Stevens likes you.”
“He’s as sick as the others if he does. I’m fucked up, damaged goods. Always have been.”
“Shut up. All I know is, you been a good partner.” He patted her shoulder.
Lei got a paper towel off the roll and honked her nose. “Thanks.”
“We got to tell the Lieutenant about this. We thought your case was closed when you took Ito down.”
Lei just shook her head, closing her eyes. Her brain didn’t seem to be functioning.
“Got a beer?” Pono asked. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She got up and uncapped two, set one in front of him and took a long pull off the other. He put the letter away in the bag and now he tucked it inside his jacket.
“Going to sign this into evidence,” he said, patting his pocket. “Need to lay the foundation for your defense in a future murder case.”
She wished she could smile at his ironic tone but couldn’t.
“I wish you didn’t have to-that I could just burn the damn thing,” Lei said.
“I’ll also put out a BOLO on him. Bet he’s using another name. Got a physical description?”
“I remember him as medium tall, wiry build, a good-looking mixed Chinese Filipino in his thirties. He had dark hair. Used to wear a goatee. He’d be fifteen years older now.”
“Do you want to work with a sketch artist?”
His pupils seemed to loom up in front of her, expanding into darkness as she tried to picture his face.
“No. Not now. See what you can find on him in the computer first.”
“Going to do a Temporary Restraining Order?”
“Would that keep me from assaulting him?”
“Works both ways,” Pono smiled a bit. “But it would establish the stalking as pre-existing harassment when we do catch him. Then you can press charges for the sexual abuse.”
“I don’t plan to do that. Too hard to prove and it would ruin my rep in the department. But I guess I better do the TRO.”
“I think you should press charges on the old stuff too. Think about it anyway. I’ll start the paperwork when I get back to the station.”
She nodded, sighed. “Do you miss me down there?”
“God, yes. That Jenkins is so ‘Fresh Off The Plane’ I can hardly stand being seen with him. Guy gets sunburned riding in the Crown Vic. I didn’t know that was possible.”