Mahu Omnibus, page 98
part #92 of Mahu Series
"To what?" I asked.
She took a deep breath. "We had cameras in the clinic. We would take movies of what happened in the rooms, and then Mr. Hu would look at them. If he recognized a man, he would take the tapes away." She began to cry in earnest. "I thought one of those men — came and killed the girls — because of the tapes."
Ray got up and got her a paper towel from the kitchen, which she used to wipe her eyes. "You have any idea who those men might be?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I didn't recognize them. And Mr. Hu took all the tapes."
"Even the ones from Friday?" I asked.
"Yes. When he came, he took everything. Even the cameras."
I wasn't sure what to do next. Treasure didn't know how to get hold of Mr. Hu. That meant that I was the only person who might be able to find him. And if I didn't soon, then both Treasure and Brian Izumigawa could be at risk.
Who Among Us Is Innocent?
I looked out the window and saw a jet coming in for a landing at Honolulu International. Another planeload of tourists coming to spend a week in paradise. "Who else knows about this apartment?" I asked Treasure.
"Mr. Hu bought this place so that a guy who worked for him could meet with high-profile clients." She lowered her voice, as if Mr. Hu was listening in. "There are cameras in the bedroom. But this guy, Lucas, was always locking himself out, so Mr. Hu gave me a spare key. Then Lucas disappeared a few weeks ago, and I knew the apartment was empty. You see how good the security is. I thought I'd be safe here."
"Did you know that Lucas was dead?"
Treasure shrugged. "I'm not surprised. He was using way too much ice. Men didn't want him anymore, and Mr. Hu wasn't happy."
"Does Mr. Hu have a key to the apartment?"
"I'm sure he does."
We waited for Treasure to make the connections on her own. "You don't think that Mr. Hu..."
I shrugged. "I don't know what to think yet. But somebody's tying up loose ends. Lucas, Jingtao, Norma, the two girls. Logic says Mr. Hu could be behind it. Or somebody who wants to take over Mr. Hu's operation. Which is pretty much the same thing when it comes to you."
"Where can I go?" she asked.
Ray and I looked at each other. I didn't think there was much chance we could get Treasure into any kind of protected witness program; there wasn't a case against anyone yet. And I had a feeling she knew more than she was telling us, so I wanted her someplace where I could keep tabs on her.
"Did Mr. Hu know you and Norma didn't get along?" Ray asked.
"He agitated it. He'd tell me things about Norma, and then he'd tell her things about me."
"So he'd never think you'd hide out at Norma's, would he?"
"That shithole in Chinatown?"
"You have a better idea?" I asked. "A sugar daddy who might put you up?"
Treasure sighed. "I guess I could stay at Norma's for a few days, until you find Mr. Hu and lock him up."
I wasn't sure that Mr. Hu was behind the murders yet. But if Treasure believed it, she'd be willing to hide out for a while.
We waited while Treasure packed up. By the time we were ready to leave she'd camouflaged herself, darkening her skin a few shades, pulling her shoulder-length black hair into a ponytail, and donning a UH T-shirt, a pair of shorts, and rubber slippas. Instead of a high-class madam, she looked like a college student.
We walked out of the building, Ray first, scanning the street. It was dark, and we both had our weapons ready, not knowing what to expect. But the only people we saw were a middle-aged couple heading to Restaurant Row and a group of teens who'd just come from a movie.
Ray climbed in the back of the Jeep with Treasure's rolling suitcase, and she sat up front with me for the drive to Norma's building in Chinatown. "Where were you today?" I asked as we drove.
Treasure looked out the window. We were passing the Aloha Tower, all lit up like a beacon welcoming tourists to our beautiful islands. "There was an office," she said. "I thought maybe Mr. Hu kept the information he was using to blackmail people there. I thought if I could get hold of the tapes, I could use them to protect myself."
"Where was the office?" I asked.
"Across the street from the shopping center. But there was nothing there."
"Define nothing," I said. "Cleared out like the acupuncture clinic?"
She nodded.
"You had a key?"
"No key. A combination lock. I found the combination one day on a piece of paper and I memorized it. You never know." She gave us the address and the number, and Ray wrote it all down.
When we got to Chinatown, Ray remained in the Wrangler with Treasure, while I headed to Norma's building. I didn't know what to expect, so I moved carefully, looking left and right, my hand on my gun and ready to draw if I had to.
A black cat scrambled across in front of me and my pulse raced. But there was no one around except a young Chinese couple hurrying home in the dark, and I got into Norma's building unmolested. The crime scene tape was still stretched across her door, and I was glad I'd kept the key Norma's neighbor had given us Tuesday morning.
I unlocked the door and slid under the tape. The apartment had a lingering smell of death, but I lit a couple of sticks of incense. It didn't look like anyone had been there since the medical examiner's office had taken away Norma's body.
"Everything looks fine," I said, when I got back to the Wrangler. "I think we should leave the crime scene tape up, though. Makes the place look uninhabited."
"I'd better get some food," Treasure said. "I hope Norma had cable."
We took her to the Foodland on Ala Moana and stocked her fridge. On our way back, Ray called Julie and arranged for her to pick him up at Norma's. I parked across the street, checked the area one more time, and then we got out of the Wrangler, Ray and I carrying her bags of groceries like loyal vassals. At least she was pulling her own rolling suitcase.
Ray saw Julie sitting in their car, and he waved. Just then Treasure tripped and sprawled to the ground. Her suitcase fell over and the zipper burst, and her clothing started spilling out. She began to cry.
Julie got out of the car and hurried over. I'd met her a couple of times, when I was picking up or dropping off Ray. She was Italian, with dark, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a polo shirt and shorts. "Can I help you?" she said, kneeling down to Treasure. "I'm Julie, Ray's wife."
Treasure let Julie stand her up, and then Ray held her while Julie stuffed the lacy lingerie back into the suitcase. Between the three of us, we got Treasure, her clothes, and her groceries up to Norma Ching's apartment.
Julie went into the bedroom and stripped the bed, making it up with new sheets and waving around the incense smoke. Treasure sat on the living room sofa like a lost child as I made tea and helped Ray put away the groceries. Ray saw me looking at my watch and said, "Why don't you head out? Julie and I will stay with Treasure for a while."
"Thanks. I'm beat." I walked out to the hallway where there were no signs of life, not even the nosy woman who'd been Norma's friend. It was about ten thirty and I was due to meet Sergei at eleven. It had been a long day, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend the next couple of hours with Sergei cruising the bars, hoping one or both of us would get lucky.
But I'd promised, and there was always the chance that we'd end up together. Our first romp had been a lot of fun, and though I was tired, my dick stiffened at the thought of a second round — especially when I remembered those pictures of him on MenSayHi.
When I walked into the Rod and Reel Club, Sergei was already at the bar making conversation with Fred, the bartender. Fred's handsome but brainless, a sexy dude with a buff chest, a diamond stud in his left ear, and enough charm to pave the length of the Kamehameha Highway. I felt jealous, wondering if Sergei would go home with Fred rather than with me at the end of the evening.
But Sergei was glad to see me, enveloping me in a big bear hug, kissing me on the lips, and squeezing my butt. I felt a second wind and ordered a Longboard Lager. When it arrived, Sergei and I went outside to the patio.
The moon moved in and out behind clouds above us. The ground light was too strong to see any stars, but the music wasn't loud and I could smell plumeria blossoms from a tourist's lei behind me. I started to relax.
"How's life in Honolulu treating you?" I asked.
"Way different from Anchorage, I'll tell you that. I don't think I've stopped sweating since I got off the plane."
"Haoa working you too hard?"
He shrugged. "I do the payroll, and I interview and hire guys. That's the toughest part. Americans don't want to work that hard for that money. So most of the guys these days are from someplace else. Chinese, Okinawan, Filipino, Malay, Samoan. I could run a Pacific branch of the UN if I wanted."
He took a swig of his beer and leaned forward. "I shouldn't tell you this, you being a cop, but sometimes you have to look the other way when a guy doesn't have the right paperwork. I mean, you have no idea what the government wants these days. Some guys, they just don't have the stuff."
"You think they might be illegal?"
"I don't ask, I don't tell."
I'd always thought my brothers were scrupulously honest — but who among us can pass every test? I'd lied to my family for years about my sexual orientation. Lui had sent TV reporters to chase me when I came out, making a news story out of my life. Even Haoa had reacted badly, beating up Tatiana's friend Tico when he went on a gay-bashing spree with some of his workmen because he couldn't deal with the fact that his little brother was a mahu.
For the next couple of hours, Sergei and I drank, played some pool, and danced. I kept thinking about Mike, though, and when a big Samoan guy asked Sergei to dance, and they locked lips on the dance floor, I was happy to turn Sergei over to him.
Major Conversational Shifts
Saturday morning I slept in, letting my body recover from the stress of the week. I wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge that Sergei might be hiring illegals to work for Haoa's landscaping firm. Should I just keep quiet? Tell my father and let him decide what to do? If I told Haoa, he'd explode; Tatiana would have to mediate. Maybe I should just go to her? It was too confusing.
Around noon I drove out to Diamond Head and caught a few waves, stretching my body and clearing my head. On the way back, I rolled up the flaps on the Wrangler, turned the CD player up on some classic Bruddah Iz, and chilled out. It was the weekend, after all. I'd worry about what to do about Sergei on Monday.
Since Mike and I were meeting Terri and her new boyfriend for dinner out in Hawai'i Kai, it made the most sense for him to pick me up. It was a cool night, with a stiff breeze blowing in off the ocean, and I waited outside for him wearing a navy sports jacket over khaki slacks and a light-blue oxford cloth button-down shirt.
It was the way I'd dressed as a teenager for formal occasions, and I guess it stuck with me. "You look nice," Mike said, when I slid into the front seat of his truck.
There was something so deja vu about the experience — almost by reflex I leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek, saying, "You do, too."
He still smelled the same, a lemon aftershave with tones of sandalwood. He must have shaved just before leaving his house, because his face was smooth. I remembered the texture of his cheek when he had a five o'clock shadow, the slight roughness that always reminded me I was kissing a man.
Mike was wearing a blue-and-white striped shirt and black pants, and I loved the way his short sleeves took hold of his upper arms and showcased his biceps.
"What have you been up to?" I asked. "Any progress on the shopping center investigation?"
"I had another case, took up most of the week. This twenty-eight-year-old guy was dumped by his girlfriend because of his drinking problem, so he poured gasoline on the furniture on her lanai and set it on fire. But he didn't realize that the wooden furniture with foam cushions would burn so fast. The stuff caught while he was standing out there yelling for her, and he ended up with third-degree burns."
"Bummer."
"It made me think about love and liquor. How when things go bad I turn to alcohol, just like this guy did. And I need to be aware of that." He turned onto Diamond Head Road and said, "Why did you invite me tonight?"
It was lame to say I didn't know why. So I thought about it, and I said, "Remember when I came to your house last Sunday?"
"It was memorable," Mike said dryly. "Your ears must have been burning that night when my dad and I had a conversation about you."
"I'm not his favorite person." I looked over at Mike. "Does he think I'm the one who made you gay?"
Mike laughed. "You mean are you the seducer who converted his innocent little boy into a cocksucker? No, he said to me one day that he knew I was gay back in high school."
"So what's he hate me for? Does he think I turned you into a drunk?"
"Ouch."
"Sorry."
"Do you think we're ever going to be able to have a conversation without one of us hurting the other?" he asked.
"Man, your brain is just popping neurons like crazy," I said. "I'm having trouble keeping up here. The answer to your first question is the answer to your second question."
"Now who's being obscure?"
We got onto the Kalaniana'ole Highway for the last part of the drive out to Hawai'i Kai. The mountains loomed up beside us, trapping us between them and the sea. "What I mean is that a month ago, if somebody had asked me if I still had feelings for you I would have denied it like crazy," I said. "And then I saw you at the fire, and I realized that was a total lie."
I looked over at him. "When you challenged me at your house and I said that I still loved you, that was the truth. I'm not sure I love you enough to start dating again and work through all your shit, but I can't deny there's still something between us." I took a deep breath. "And that's why I asked you to come to dinner. Because I want to either get you out of my system, or get you back in my life."
"My dad hates you because he thinks you broke my heart, and he thinks it's because of you that drinking became a problem for me again," Mike said, as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. "And both of those things are true."
He got out of the truck then, forestalling any further discussion, and we saw Terri and a tall, handsome guy approaching us. Mike shrugged into a sports jacket and plastered a smile on his face.
Terri handled the introductions. Levi Hirsch seemed like a nice guy, and there was definite chemistry between him and Terri. The four of us walked into the restaurant, where a slack key piece by Hapa was playing. The ceiling arched above us in imitation of an old Hawaiian halau, or meeting house, and the furniture was all dark wood with a floral print of hibiscus and red ginger on the cushions.
We sat at a table on the terrace overlooking the dark ocean, making small talk. When the waiter came by, Levi said, "Why don't we share a bottle of wine. White all right with everyone?"
I looked over at Mike, who said, "Fine with me." Levi surveyed the wine list, ordering a bottle of Alto Adige Sauvignon, which, according to its description, was an Italian white that was racy, with distinctive flavors of melon, grapefruit, and grass followed by spicy green peppers and gooseberry notes. I would have preferred a beer, but I went along with the crowd.
Dinner was delicious and convivial. I couldn't help noticing every time Mike sipped his wine, though he only had one glass and refused a refill. "No, it's great," he told Levi. "But I'm driving."
"Got to be careful when you've got a cop in the car with you," Levi said.
"I'm always careful around Kimo," Mike said with the hint of a smile.
Terri insisted on paying for dinner, which was a relief for me after getting myself into debt for the Wrangler. Back in Mike's truck, I said, "That was fun. I'm glad you came."
"I can drink, you know."
Man, I wished I could anticipate some of his mind jumps. "I thought you were going to AA meetings."
"I am. But I don't think I'm an alcoholic."
"Okay."
"Don't look at me that way. I have a problem with alcohol. When I have emotional issues, I get drunk. I know that. I'm seeing a psychologist."
"Really?"
"EAP program. I went into it voluntarily. Nobody in the department knows."
The full moon hung over the ocean as we drove down the Kalaniana'ole Highway. The night had gotten cooler, and I had the window rolled down just a couple of inches. The flat, straight road was a contrast to my mood; I felt like we should have been driving up the Pali Highway, with its twists and turns instead.
"I can't start to date you again until I work things out," Mike said. "Man, I want to. I want to kiss you so much. But my shrink says I need to take things slow. That if we start up again, and then you dump me, I'll end up in trouble again." He turned to look at me, and I thought I saw tears glinting off his cheeks in the moonlight. "I can't risk that yet."
"You're not the only one with problems," I said quietly. "I don't want to pick up with you again just because I think it'll make me feel better." I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "But I do want to see you again. Do you think you can do that?"
He looked over at me and smiled. "I can do that."
We sat there in silence for a while. As we turned back into Waikiki, full of neon and tourist traffic, he said, "I did learn one thing about our case. The fires at the lingerie store in Chinatown, the massage parlor in Waikele, and the acupuncture clinic all showed evidence of accelerants. It isn't much, but it does show that they were all arsons, and there was nothing to indicate that a different guy was involved."
"We've got the girl staying in Chinatown. I think she knows more than she's telling us, but she's got to get good and scared before she's going to break down."
"Keep me in the loop."
When he pulled up in front of my apartment, I leaned over to kiss his cheek again, but he turned his face so that our lips met. My pulse quickened as I reached my arm around his back and pulled him close. We kissed, my lips remembering the familiar texture of his, my cheek against his, my nose inhaling that scent of lemon and sandalwood. My dick hardened and I wanted nothing more than to drag Mike upstairs, strip him down, and fuck him until we were both senseless, until all that existed was the physical and spiritual connection between us.
