steps of the police station before the sun had fully crested the horizon, that anger still sizzling in her veins. It hadn’t subsided since last night. She stomped into the lobby and marched to the glass in front of the reception area. A man looked up, blinking in surprise, clearly taken aback by her ire.
“Can I help you?” he asked a little timidly.
“I want to talk to the chief,” she demanded.
“Um, he’s not in right now,” he told her. “He usually doesn’t get in for another hour.”
“That’s fine.” She folded her arms. “I’m more than happy to wait.”
“Can I have a name?”
She gave it to him, then went to the nearest chair and plopped down.
It was nearly two hours before the locked door to the rest of the station opened, and a large, clean-shaven man came out, glancing around until his eyes landed on the only person in the waiting room.
“Ms. Kawai?” he asked.
KK nodded and stood.
“I’m Chief James Knight,” he stated. “Come on back.”
She followed him back. The station was extensive, filled with both uniformed and plainclothes officers. Some of them watched with interest as she followed the chief. If she weren’t so angry, she might have felt self-conscious about the attention. Right now she was too preoccupied with trying to get justice for the dead dolphin to really care what the other officers might think.
Chief Knight’s office was spacious but looked surprisingly barren. There were photos of people who must have been his wife and kids on his desk and a closed filing cabinet in one corner. But the desk itself looked devoid of papers as if he had no work to do. Considering how busy this area of the island was, with all the tourists and businesses, she would have thought his desk would be overflowing with paperwork. Either he was incredibly efficient at his job and worked like a horse every day of the week, or he was lazy and did nothing. She wasn’t sure which it was yet. “So what can I help you with?” he asked. His chair made a soft groaning sound as he reclined into it.
“A couple weeks ago I was attacked by poachers,” she began.
“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” He sighed and scratched his chin. “Hate to say it but I don’t have any information. As soon as we do, one of my officers will—”
“That’s not why I’m here,” KK interrupted.
Knight’s dark brown eyes narrowed as he studied KK, sweeping up and down her as if sizing up a potentially formidable opponent. He kicked his legs up on his desk, reclining even further.
“All right then,” he drawled. “What is it?”
“A dolphin washed up on shore last night,” she said.
He blinked, then his brow furrowed. “There are stranding networks and other people for that,” he replied. “Call them. That really isn’t a matter for the police.”
Lazy, then, she thought, trying to keep her anger in check.
There was a knock on the open door, and KK turned to see Kremer’s head sticking through the door frame. He blinked, bemused when he saw KK. “Miss Kawai?” he asked.
“This is the man you should be talking to,” Knight said, gesturing at the detective. “He’s the one in charge of the case, after all.”
She gritted her teeth, stuffing her hand in her pocket and fishing out the note taped to her door. “What about this?” she asked, stuffing it in Knight’s face.
He squinted, then shrugged. “Not much we can do.”
“You could dust for fingerprints, do a handwriting analysis, anything, really,” she exasperatedly suggested. “It’s a threat.”
“It’s not even a death threat.” Knight yawned. “And I’m not going to tie up department resources on a note like that.”
“Sir,” Kremer said after looking at the note KK had pushed into his hand. “This isn’t something we should take lightly. I think it’s serious, and almost certainly tied to the assault—”
“If she gets more, she can come back,” Knight interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now I’m a very busy man, so unless you have something important to tell me, I suggest you leave.”
Fuming, KK stalked out of the station, not bothering to talk to Kremer. Her mind was reeling with anger and her body shook with anxiety. The police weren’t going to do anything, not even about the threat she’d received. Kremer didn’t seem too bad as a detective, but that didn’t mean much when his boss refused to listen. She sighed and ran her fingers through her black hair, looking out at the crystal blue ocean, the sun glinting off it as it rose into the sky. Right now, she felt totally lost. And even if she wouldn’t admit it, she was a little frightened. It was impossible to know what was going on or how best to handle it. It wasn’t as though she had experience with poachers or any insight that might help her locate them. She wanted to act, to get ahead of this, but the answer as to how to do so eluded her.
Her stomach growled loudly. Right. In all the excitement, she hadn’t eaten yet. After a frustrating morning of dealing with the police and failing to get anything accomplished, as well as how stressed she was, there was really only one option for food.
Uncle Senior’s malasada shop was packed this morning, filled with a mix of curious tourists and local regulars that created a line nearly to the door. KK’s stomach growled even louder as the scent of freshly baked dough hit her nostrils and she had to force herself not to moan in excitement.
The line moved quickly, Uncle Senior’s staff working seamlessly and effortlessly to move things along. KK watched as they replaced empty trays in the display cabinet with new ones filled with fresh goods.
When she finally got to the front, she was pleasantly surprised to see Uncle Senior himself stroll out of the back kitchen area. The man was older, his dark skin leathery and his once dark hair almost pure gray now. He broke into a warm smile when he saw KK.
“Good to see you!” Uncle Senior greeted, still beaming. His face fell a fraction when he saw KK’s face. “Rough morning?”
“Something like that,” KK admitted, sighing even as she gave a smile. “Just been a lot going on. Can I get a dozen? Assorted, but at least two of them pineapple?”
“I think we can manage that. And you know, I just so happened to have finished a fresh batch.”
Five minutes later, KK walked out with a warm cardboard box of malasadas. Her stomach refused to wait until she got to Marine World, so she flipped it open. She frowned when she looked in the box, then smiled warmly.
Two extra malasadas were nestled snugly in the box.
She grabbed one hurriedly, and bit into it. It was still warm, and the pineapple filling burst into her mouth. She finished it in three large, quick bites.
At least some people are on my side, she thought, her mood instantly lifting as she plucked another from the box.