CHAPTER 57

Special Agent Jansen dug into my closet, ripped a shirt off the rack, picked a pair of jeans out of my hamper, and threw them at me in the bathroom. “Put these on, and hurry. I don’t know what the hell this woman looks like. I need you to help me find her.”

“I can’t see anything,” I told him as I slipped into my shirt. “I can’t help you find Iryna if I’m blind.”

“I sent the sketch artist down to the ABC Store to pick up some baby shampoo. That’ll remove the spray and you should have your vision back within ten minutes.”

Jansen helped me off the floor once I’d dressed, then guided me into the living room. “Why the hell did she run anyway?”

“She’s not documented.”

“Did you tell her I don’t give a rat’s shit about her immigration status? That I just want to find this killer Masonet?”

“She’s ignorant. And scared.”

Once the sketch artist returned, she rubbed the Johnson’s baby shampoo gently into my eyes over the kitchen sink. I’d all but stopped coughing and my breathing was beginning to return to normal. Five minutes after the shampooing, I could open my eyes into narrow slits.

I walked through the bedroom and glanced into the bathroom mirror; the entire top half of my face was blotchy and red.

“Come on,” Jansen said. “We’re not going out to pick up women, just to find the one.”

*   *   *

Three hours later and not a sign of Iryna Kupchenko. Scott Damiano was staking out the Meridian, while Jansen and I stood in the main lobby of the Kupulupulu Beach Resort, our eyes peeled. I removed my phone from my pocket and dialed Jake’s cell.

Jake picked up on the first ring.“Where the hell are you?”

“Ko Olina. Long story. Look, I’m going to need you to put Guffman on the stand this afternoon.”

“He could be our last witness. Son, you can’t pull this shit in the middle of a murder trial. Narita is not happy. He just called us into chambers and asked me where you were. The jury is not happy. They watched you the entire trial, and they’re looking at me like I’m the fucking understudy. And Turi, that young man is not happy at all. He’s scared shitless. He thinks you ran out on him.”

“Jake, we’re close to finding Masonet. We’ve had a setback. But you assure Turi that what I’m doing is absolutely vital to his defense. Promise him I’ll be there to deliver closing arguments.”

The moment I hung up, a soaking-wet Scott Damiano materialized with a soaking-wet Iryna Kupchenko on his arm.

“She went for a swim,” Scott said. “Only she can’t swim. She tried to doggy-paddle her way to a yacht that had just left the marina. Good thing I spotted her when I did or we’d be fishing her body out of the drink.”

I stepped over to Iryna, took her hand gently in mine. “It’s all right. I talked to the DEA agent. He has no intention of having you deported. But we need you to come back to my house to give the sketch artist a description of the man you saw in the elevator of Gavin Dengler’s building.”

Iryna refused to look at me. “I don’t believe you. All men are liars.”

I placed my arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the main lobby. “Maybe. But this time, all we’re trying to get at is the truth.”