AFTER TWO LONG days away from home, Koa was thrilled to be back in his own cottage waiting for his sweetheart, Nālani. It felt right to leave the case behind and play chef for her, even if the respite was only temporary. He cut the deep red sushi-grade ‘ahi into long square strips, added salt and pepper, and coated them with a mayonnaise wasabi mixture. With the panache of a sushi chef, or so he liked to imagine, he added enoki mushrooms and wrapped each strip in a sheet of seaweed nori. Setting aside the ‘ahi, Koa prepared the tempura batter and placed it in the refrigerator.
Nālani burst through the door and danced across the great room, whirling around and moving her arms in graceful arcs. As her long black hair swirled around her body, her oval face lit with a mischievous smile like the one that had first attracted him.
“I gather the job interview went well,” he remarked wryly. The two were so different—a forty-plus-year-old cop and a thirty-four-year-old biologist … she so trim, so lithe, so gentle in her movements, while he resembled the muscular football player from his high school days. Given how independent they both were, it was a small miracle their romance had blossomed. Luckily, her free spirit made her tolerant of the demands of his police duties.
“Fantastic!” She twirled around again. “There’s going to be an opening in four months, and I’m the number one candidate … numero uno!”
After graduate school in California and a stint in the research department of a big pharmaceutical company, Nālani had worked as a park ranger at Yosemite for four years before returning to Hawai‘i. Unable to secure her dream job at Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park, she’d lucked into a technical support job at the Alice Observatories on Mauna Kea. While she’d loved her nine months at Alice, she’d kept pursuing her dream, applying for an opening at Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park and finally winning an interview. Now a job had opened up, and she stood on the brink of grabbing it.
Koa poured two glasses of Russian River chardonnay, and they toasted to her success before he pulled her close for a long kiss. “Now, or after dinner?” she teased, fiddling with the top button of his shirt. Her eyes twinkled with naughty delight before she playfully pushed him away.
“No, you should feed me first. I’m famished.”
Koa smiled at her tease. It was one of the many qualities that drew him to her. She was his miracle. Attracted from the first time he’d seen her smile at a charity cocktail party, he’d doubted such a sexy woman could possibly fall for an older, hard-boiled cop. But against all odds, it had happened. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend, dated, and found excitement in being together.
Both loved the outdoors, and most of their dates had involved hiking, surfing, and overnight camping. They’d spent hours exploring the national park, and she’d taught him more about native birds and plants than he could ever have imagined. Making their dream romance almost too good to be true, she was the most sensuous and creative lover he’d ever known. She even left the cooking to him, which might have bothered some men, but suited him to a T. After dating for three months, he’d carried her over the threshold of his little Volcano cottage to stay. He lived in constant fear she’d tire of him and cherished every moment they were together.
Returning to the stove, Koa brought the mixture of wine, vinegar, lemon juice, butter, soy sauce, and wasabi to a simmer. Nālani, always flirtatious, had plainly missed him, and he relished what was coming after dinner.
Nālani suddenly became serious. “I’ll be glad to leave Alice.”
He knew the nuances of her voice, and this one sounded off, somehow forced. “Oh, why is that?”
“It’s not always what it’s supposed to be.”
He wasn’t liking the sound of this mysterious “it.” “And why is that?” he asked.
“You remember Charlie Harper?”
“Vaguely. He’s one of the assistant directors, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
He sensed hesitation on her part and turned to face her. “What about him?”
“He’s got roving hands.”
Koa stiffened. “Has he hit on you?”
“Yeah. A couple of times.” Looking away, her face colored.
A couple of times, Koa thought, and she hadn’t said anything. “You haven’t told me about anything like that,” he said mildly, trying not to press her. He didn’t like to bring his interrogation tactics home.
“You haven’t been around much.”
That was true. He’d had a series of demanding cases and late nights even before spending two nights away at Pōhakuloa. “It’s been pretty hectic,” he responded, kicking himself for sounding lame. “So what happened?”
“The first time he came in while I was alone in the mirror cleaning shop—you know, where we re-aluminize the hexagonal pieces that make up the telescope’s mirror—and made a pass at me. I told him to get lost and didn’t think too much of it.” She turned to face him, glad to have the issue out in the open. “Then a week ago, he put his hands on me.”
Her words jolted Koa. A week ago. Why had she waited a week to tell him about it? A sneaking part of him couldn’t help wondering what had motivated Harper to hit on her. Her impish sexuality had attracted Koa, and he’d seen it turn male heads when she walked into a bar.
“And?”
“I slapped him across the face and told him to keep his paws off me. That’s when he told me he liked a feisty bitch.”
“What?” Koa thundered.
“Yeah,” she said. She must have sensed his doubt, because she added, “He’s done the same thing to a couple of the women astronomers.”
“Jesus,” Koa growled, and shifted position. Pain shot down his arm. He suddenly felt much older than Nālani, and worried that she might not be so attracted to a decrepit cop facing spinal surgery. He tried to dismiss the thought, but it wouldn’t go away. He’d lost a step. He’d felt it out at Pōhakuloa. Basa, he was now sure, had seen it. Nālani too must see him as less of a man. That couldn’t be good for their relationship.
“He thinks he’s God’s gift to women. He’s such a perv. I feel sorry for his wife, even though she’s a total doormat. I need to shower after being around the guy.”
“Does Director Masters know about Harper’s sexual harassment?” Koa had never met Masters but knew of him through Nālani. He’d had a celebrated career as an air force defense contractor working on President Reagan’s Star Wars anti-missile program before becoming the top dog at the Alice Observatories. He’d been at Alice for a number of years and was frequently in the news. Although as a lowly technician, and not an astronomer, Nālani had limited contact with Masters, she never had anything but good things to say about him.
“Oh, God, no. Masters would fire Harper if he got wind of it. I mean, Masters went out of his way to give me a job, and he’s one hundred percent supportive of the women astronomers and techs.”
“So why don’t you talk to Masters? If he’s as supportive as you say, he’d make short work of Mr. Harper.” Koa was thinking that Masters should cut off Charlie’s roving hands, but as a cop he couldn’t say that.
She gave Koa a surprised look. “You think I should?”
Why would she be reluctant to go to Masters? the cop voice inside him wondered. Was there more to this story? “Don’t you want somebody to stop this snake?”
“I don’t know. Seems like … well, I should fight my own battles.”
“Harper hasn’t tried anything else with you, has he?”
“No, not really, but he followed me into the control room today and may have been stalking me, so I told him I had Mace in my purse, and I’d use it on him.”
“Did you really have a can of Mace?”
“Actually, it’s pepper spray, but it would do the trick.”
She walked across to the table where she had dropped her purse and pulled out a can of pepper spray. She tossed it across the room to him.
He felt a surge of relief. No matter what had provoked Harper in the first place, Nālani plainly intended to put an end to his advances. He felt bad for doubting her fidelity and guilty for not being around to protect her, but mostly he was concerned for her future safety. “Christ, I’d like to go up there and teach the asshole some manners.”
She looked alarmed, and he realized why she hadn’t told him in the first place. “Please, Koa. I’m leaving Alice, and I want it to be on good terms. I’ll spray the bastard if he tries anything, but I don’t want to create an incident if I can avoid it.”
He couldn’t disagree with that. “Okay, but keep this with you.” He tossed the can back to her and watched her put it back in her purse. “And call me immediately if he tries anything. Promise?”
“Promise.”
Still bothered by the issue, but knowing it was beyond his control, he turned back to his cooking. Yet he was so unnerved, he immediately knocked a knife off the counter. He jumped back to avoid getting skewered, and his abrupt movement triggered a burst of pain. The jolt shot all the way down his arm to his fingers. He winced and grabbed his neck.
“Koa Kāne.”
Nālani never used his full name. He turned to see her staring at him with her arms folded across her chest.
“When are you going to schedule that surgery?”
“I’m seeing the surgeon the day after tomorrow, but—”
“But what, Koa?” she demanded sternly.
He didn’t like being pinned down like this, but he saw no way out. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure.”
“Not sure about what?” She had a fierce look in her eyes. “You’ve got two opinions; and both doctors agree. Do you really want to lose the use of your right arm?” Then both her face and her voice softened. “We’ve got years ahead of us, Koa. Neither of us wants you disabled.”
Her words struck a blow. She didn’t want him … disabled. He felt cornered but fought the instinct to be combative. “Okay. I’ll schedule the surgery.”
“Good. That’s settled.” She grinned. “Now mister master chef, fix me some grub.”
He put the issue aside for the moment and concentrated on coating the nori-wrapped ‘ahi in the cold tempura batter before placing it into the hot oil sizzling in the wok. He turned the fish repeatedly. When the outside had turned crisp, but the ‘ahi remained rare inside, he sliced the rolls and arranged the pieces on plates before adding capers along with a beurre blanc sauce. He served the seared ‘ahi with salad, edamame, and more chilled chardonnay. The dish ranked among Nālani’s all-time favorites.
“Did you identify the victim of that god-awful killing out at Pōhakuloa?” Nālani asked.
Koa was glad she had switched to a new, more familiar topic. “No, not yet. But you won’t believe what we found.” He described the canoe coffin, the bird woman, and the workshop. “Your guy, Jimmy Hikorea, says it’s a major archaeological find. And, I’ll have you know, yours truly participated in the discovery.”
“That’s fabulous. I’m sorry I wasn’t there too.” Her face blossomed into a huge smile, and he felt absurdly pleased. She too saw the oddity of a police detective dabbling in archaeology. “What was it like, you know, the moment you realized the importance of the cave?”
“It’s hard to describe, but down in that cave, I felt a pilina, a connection, to my roots … to my ancestors. I haven’t felt anything like that in a long time.”
“That’s neat,” she encouraged. “Describe it for me.”
“Those men … their lives were so brutal, but they made things of exquisite beauty. I mean, the bird woman just grabbed me. And the canoe, painted red, the color of the gods, reminded me of my grandfather’s stories.”
“That’s cool, Koa. That’s our heritage.” Like many poor Hawaiian children, Nālani was raised by her grandmother. Tūtū, as Nālani invariably called her, had nurtured a multitude of children and was quick to spot the spark that set Nālani apart. Whether playing at ‘ōlelo nane, a game of riddles, or surfing the big ones, tūtū accepted nothing less than the best from her favorite granddaughter. And so Nālani learned to excel. Only years later after graduate school did Nālani understand just how much she owed to her uncompromising tūtū. And tūtū inspired the love of Hawai‘i’s unique natural beauty and culture that inevitably drew Nālani back to the Big Island despite lucrative opportunities on the mainland.
“Yeah,” he said, caught up in the excitement. “I remember my grandfather, and even my father sometimes, used to fascinate me with stories of the kahuna kālai wa‘a,” he said, referring to the expert canoe makers of the ancient Kāne clan.
“I wish I’d known your grandfather. He sounds a lot like my tūtū,” Nālani mused as she savored a slice of ‘ahi. Koa wasn’t one to talk much about his past. During their courtship and even after they began living together, he’d regaled Nālani with stories of his military service and his detective work, but hadn’t talked much about his family. His hesitancy stemmed partly from chagrin at his lowly roots and partly from reluctance to discuss his youngest brother, Ikaika, who’d been a juvenile delinquent before graduating to serious crime and serving time in the slammer. But the real reason had been his secret criminal history. He couldn’t tell her about the most devastating event in his life, one that helped drive him to become a cop and motivated him to pursue justice for victims for crimes.
“My dad worked the sugar mills and died in an accident when I was sixteen. He was only forty, but after twenty-two years in that damn place, he walked bent over, like a crippled old man. I hated that goddamn mill—God, how I hated it—and I swore I wasn’t going to let a lousy dead-end job suck the life out of me.” Koa realized he’d never shown her the picture and grabbed his billfold. He pulled out a dog-eared photo of the old Hāmākua Sugar Mill. “I carry this picture with me always to remind me never to end up like he did.”
He left the story there, not reciting how he’d suspected Anthony Hazzard, the mill manager, of arranging his father death or how he tracked the man to a remote hunting cabin in the Kohala mountains, started a fight, and accidently killed the man. He’d never shared that personal history with anyone and wasn’t about to tell Nālani.
Nālani’s face softened and her eyes seemed to glow. “He’d be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Koa.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Koa gave her a wry smile. “Even though, like many Hawaiians of his generation, he never had much use for the police.”
They fell silent as they ate the ‘ahi.
Koa reached across the table, softly covering Nālani’s hand. “You’re going to leave in a couple of months. Why not just quit now?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to sit around for four months, and besides, the park service hasn’t actually hired me yet.”
“What if Harper tries something, and you can’t get to your spray?”
“I’ll be careful, Koa. I promise.”
This uninspiring reply left him uncomfortable, just like the whole affair left a sour taste in his mouth. Men who harassed women didn’t just stop … that’s what made them harassers. He respected Nālani’s desire to leave Alice on good terms, but if Charlie Harper made another unwanted pass at her, he’d teach the creep a lesson or two.