Unknown Number. Normally, Athen ignored calls like that because they were telemarketers or scams. But he was a cop. He couldn’t ignore calls, especially when they kept calling back. Two-forty a.m. Who the hell could it be? His cellphone crackled.
“Hullo? Athen?”
Athen squinted as the voice from his distant past interrupted his, er, uptown funk. He finally had his lover, Grady, right where he wanted him, naked and in bed, the house dark and silent.
“Jay-zus. Cricket?”
Charlie Cricket Pritchard chuckled. “You still got that thing for me, eh?”
Athen rolled his eyes but couldn’t resist laughing, too. “Oh, yeah. I got sleepless nights over you.”
Grady sat up in bed. “Who the hell are you talking to?”
Athen held up a finger. Grady’s eyes hardened in a way that Athen knew would mean he had a lot of ‘splaining to do. The truth was, he’d missed Cricket, his old partner. Athen thought he’d retired. Why was he calling now?
Cricket coughed. He was still smoking, by the sounds of it. “Listen. We need to talk.”
“Sure. When?”
Athen reached out a languid hand and stroked Grady’s belly. Grady stiffened, shoving his hand aside and rolled away from him. Ouch.
“I’d say now, except it’s not a good idea. I’m on surveillance. Can we talk tomorrow? Can you meet me?”
“Sure,” Athen repeated. “When?”
“I’ll let you know. Sleep tight. Nighty-night. Keep this on the QT.” Cricket ended their call.
“Whatever,” Athen said, even though Cricket was gone, and Grady had his back to him.
“Who the hell’s Cricket?” Grady asked, not turning to look at him.
“My former partner.”
“Wait.” Grady half turned. “You mean Charlie?”
“Yeah.” Athen grinned in the darkened bedroom.
“Half rodent, quarter insect, quarter human Charlie?”
Huh. Grady hasn’t forgiven Cricket. Grady had come into his life just as Charlie was being ordered to bedrest after a quadruple bypass.
“Isn’t he dead yet?”
Athen stared at Grady’s barely visible back. “Apparently not.”
“Hmph.” Grady leaned farther away. “You can thank that old coot for my iffy stiffy.”
Athen lay back against the pillows. The chill between them frustrated him. He was as loyal as they came. He hadn’t had a decent, active case for a month, and at the first sign of something brewing...
Grady’s soft snoring told him everything he needed to know. Athen might not have much on his plate, but Grady had to be exhausted. He was working on a huge TV show and handling Athen’s thirteen-year-old niece, Despina. She was closer to being shipped off to boarding school than she probably realized.
Athen loved sex. So did Grady. And Athen loved sex with Grady. Despina did her best to come between them, and now, it seemed, so did Cricket. Athen felt like the guy on the State Farm TV ad whose wife catches him in a late-night phone conversation with Jake, a security specialist and doesn’t believe him.
Huh. Cricket, like Jake from State Farm, wears khakis. At least he did. Wonder what the hell he wants from me? Thoughts paddled around his brain. Memories of the last case he and Cricket had worked on still rankled. He tried to push the upsetting thoughts from his mind. And then, sleep claimed him...
* * * *
Stumpy Lake, Virginia Beach, Virginia, February. Midnight.
Five Years ago.
Athen felt ridiculous, in the dead of night, to be waiting to meet a man who’d claimed he could help him with his case. A man who was blind, no less. Athen shifted his feet a little farther apart on the edge of the damp, rock-strewn lakefront. His boots were wet, but the water hadn’t soaked through to his socked feet. Yet.
He let his flashlight blaze a trail around him. The lake was considered perfect for watercraft, especially kayaks and canoes, but not for swimming. Athen had already been warned it was filled with deadly snakes.
Something terrible had happened here to someone beautiful, and he wouldn’t rest until he solved the mystery of Allie Madden’s disappearance. He focused his gaze on a ripple of movement in the water. He didn’t want to get bitten and die before he could find her.
Her disappearance and apparently brutal murder ached in his gut like an ulcer.
He took some deep breaths and it only hurt his throat more. How cold is it? Last time I checked it was thirty-two degrees. Much colder now. Athen switched off the flashlight, tucked it into the pocket of his pea coat, and rubbed his gloved hands together. It didn’t help him get any warmer.
I should have worn something else. This old coat won’t cut it. A fleeting sense of passion scissored through him for his lover, who’d lent it to him. Another worry invaded his thoughts.
What if the tracker doesn’t show?
Was it this cold the night Allie Madden was dragged out here?
He slid his left foot across the sand to his right. Then he drew it back, bringing the right foot toward the left. He shuffled this way repeatedly until the heat from his feet traveled up his calves and moved up toward the rest of his body.
He let out a breath, condensation evaporating from his frigid lips.
Keep moving, man.
He continued sliding his feet back and forth, a trick he’d learned from his days working for the US Marshals. An actress he’d protected from a stalker had taught him this routine from her long days standing on movie sets. Where is she now? She’d been stalked by an ex-lover and he’d guarded her for two months in Savannah, Georgia. It had been hot and sticky and... Yeah. That’s the ticket. Pretend it’s hot right now. Her wonderful smile came to mind, and her wicked sense of humor. She was the closest thing he’d come to falling for a woman.
And the nearest thing he knew of perfection.
Athen kept his gaze swiveling across the deserted beach.
Where is this guy? Was this a hoax? The skin prickled at the back of his neck. The gift of fear. No. Not a hoax. He detected movement. The old man was close.
Or somebody was.
Athen stopped shuffling and listened intently, his gaze flickering to his left. He almost shouted a greeting as an old man made his way toward him. Athen noticed a younger man helping him carry a canoe over the bumpy terrain.
The young man lifted a hand in greeting and Athen nodded back to him, stepping closer to them. The old man didn’t glance in Athen’s direction. He stopped walking and stared out at the rippling water.
“Hi,” the younger man said. “My name is Andrew Laurie. This is my grandpa, Kaikane.” He pronounced it Ky-kah-nay. “Everyone calls him Kai.”
Only Andrew shook Athen’s hand.
“Kai is the Hawaiian word for water, isn’t it?” Athen asked.
“Yes.” Andrew gave him a fleeting smile. “Kaikane means strong.”
“Strong water. Somehow that seems apt.” Athen flicked a gaze at the solid-looking man who exuded a quiet confidence. “How do we do this?” For the first time in his career as a cop, Athen felt a cold stab of fear. Am I crazy to meet two strangers like this?
“I’ll be paddling with you. Kai will navigate. He—we both want to help.”
“He’s a blind navigator?” Athen blurted.
“Yes.” This was the first time the old man spoke. He turned his head toward Athen, his eyes seeming bright and alert in the moonlight.
Before Athen could respond, Andrew continued. “Kai is Hawaiian. He comes from a long line of kahuna. High priests. His gift is tracking the missing. Especially in water.”
Kai held up a hand. “I’m blind, not mute.” He stared at Athen. Hard.
Athen had met some intriguing people in his time, but Kai was one of the most unusual. He had an odd scent to him. A mixture of kerosene, it seemed, hair pomade, and a woodsy smell. Athen had a mental image of the old man living on a boat using kerosene for fuel.
Kai’s long, grey hair had been pulled back from his face and he wore it in two braids. He reminds me of Willie Nelson. His attire was an odd mix of western and tropical clothing. His skinny legs were adorned in jeans that seemed three sizes two big, and he was barefoot. Barefoot. In this weather. Over what looked like an ugly Christmas sweater, he wore a large swath of cloth Athen recognized as tapa. Tree bark beaten and fashioned into distinctive tan and black fabric.
“Please tell me everything you know about Allie’s disappearance,” Kai said.
Athen took a breath that was so cold he could feel it in his lungs. “Allie Madden is missing, presumed dead after she and her husband were seen arguing in a bar, an exclusive private club on Atlantic Avenue—”
“I know the official story.” The old man’s tone was sharp. “I want to know your impressions.” He jabbed a finger at Athen. For a guy who couldn’t see, he seemed to know exactly where Athen stood.
“Are you really blind?”
“I see shadows. You’re right to be afraid. This beach has known evil.”
Damn. Athen swallowed.
The old man seemed to be waiting.
“I came into this case late,” Athen admitted. “As a favor to the US Marshals. I’ve worked dozens of missing people cases around the country.”
“I know your story. I want to know about hers.” Another jab to Athen’s chest.
“She is—was—married—”
“Ah. So, you believe she’s no longer alive.”
Athen hesitated. The local authorities had been quick to release way too much information on the case, hoping somebody who knew Allie Madden, or felt badly enough about the disappearance of the young married mother of a baby boy, would come forward with information. Despite nationwide publicity, not a single, credible clue had emerged.
“We know the husband, Phil Madden, has a mistress, Leta Gordon, but she is in fear of her safety. The story she tells is... chilling.” Athen paused and closed his eyes. He felt badly for Allie Madden, and for Leta, who had believed Phil’s lies. She was young and naïve, by her own admission, and became caught up in something she would never be able to get over.
“I am telling you this in the strictest confidence and because my commanding officer says I can trust you.” Athen sucked in another frigid breath. “I tracked Leta down to a hunting shack on Pine Mountain. I guaranteed her protection in exchange for her cooperation.”
“What did she tell you?” The old man seemed alive with excitement.
“That she helped her lover, Allie’s husband, Phil, kill his wife on the edge of this lake. She was crying hysterically when she described how Allie begged for her life as he stabbed her multiple times. She said it took a long time for her to die.” Athen paused. “Then they took his old rowboat out here and dumped her body in the middle of the lake.”
A look of anguish crossed the old man’s face. “And she has regrets?”
“Plenty. She found out she was just one of three mistresses. And Phil has been threatening her ever since they killed Allie.”
Kai looked surprised. “Dakine. Let’s go.”
“We’ve searched the lake and there’s been no sign of her. Nothing. And we can’t even find the alleged rowboat,” Athen pointed out.
“Let’s get on with it. I’m due back on Maui in two days. I miss my wife.” Kai frowned at him. Athen could see it by the faint light of the moon. Another jab to Athens chest. “No more yackety-yackety.”
They dragged the canoe to the waterline, pushed it in and all three climbed aboard. The old man sat in front, his hands trailing in the water as Athen and Andrew paddled.
Kai muttered something under his breath as he leaned close to the water.
“It’s a chant for protection,” Andrew whispered to Athen between strokes.
Athen nodded, curious, as Kai waved a hand in one direction, then another. He held up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture at one point and turned to face Athen. “What was down there?” He pointed right beneath them.
Interesting. Navy divers had found an old tire iron and a chain at the bottom of the lake. The investigators had told nobody about the objects, and they’d been deemed too rusted and crusty to be of any value.
“Did they contain metal?” Kai asked as though reading Athen’s thoughts.
Shocked, Athen mumbled. “Yeah. An old tire iron and a chain.”
“Hmm. This way.” Kai pointed to the left and once again, his search pattern seemed whimsical. Not the methodical grid the military had used.
“Stop.” Kai’s hand churned in the water. “I know why you never found her here.”
“Why’s that?” Athen asked, so cold now, it hurt his whole face to talk.
“She was never out here in the first place.” Kai made smaller, calmer circles with his hand then suddenly withdrew it, as though stung. “She’s not here at all.”