Page 29 of Talk Story

I turned to a middle section of the journal. “Hannah writes that Ikaika was killed in a car accident weeks after he told her he was almost ready to file his findings with authorities. The phrase ‘they decided to make him an accident’ suggests she knew something more.”

The shack was silent except for the distant sound of waves on the beach across the road, and the wind in the juvenile palm just outside.

“Hannah made a decision once Ikaika died; she married Raymond Chang, Sr., the patriarch of the Big Island branch of the crime family. She then made sure the documentation her brother had assembled wasn’t destroyed—that’s what she came to tell Pearl Nakamoto when she brought her the journal.”

“Why didn’t she act on the information?” Lei said, frowning.

I shrugged. “Could have been the downside to marrying into the mob. She was waiting for a moment that seemed safe—or imminent—to act on what she knew.”

Dr. Patel, who had been listening with focused attention, glanced up from the petroglyph photographs. “The cave inscriptions and journal corroborate each other,” she said. “The land areas documented in the carvings match parcel numbers Nainoa and I found in the old survey maps. The family names in the journal match the symbols in the cave.” She glanced over at Lei and Malia. “If I can produce a formal assessment cross-referencing all of this, combined with the Kalākaua decree that Ms. Yamamoto identified, you would have a documented chain of evidence of stewardship of that valley, from the monarchy period to present day. It’s the type of documentation that NAGPRA investigators can use to take Federal jurisdiction of the Valley.”

“How long would such a formal assessment take to pull together?” Lei asked.

“With Nainoa’s notes and the photography you say Pali did yesterday . . .” she glanced up and to the left, assessing . . . “three days, maybe four. Assuming we’re not interrupted. But I need Nainoa, his research, and Pali’s photos and notes too.”

“And—we need Chang’s operation slowed down long enough for you to finish,” Malia said. “If someone files a lawsuit, we could get an injunction from a judge to halt the Chang project until all this can be sorted out.”

“Sounds like I need to reach out to Edith Pepperwhite, Pearl’s attorney. I’m certain she and Pearl would be willing to be the face of the Chang opposition,” I said. “Can you whip up a little description of what you told us in writing, Dr. Patel? I can take that to them, and I guarantee Edith will be ready and able to file within a day.”

“Yes. I’ll get to work on that.” Dr. Patel had brought her laptop; she opened it. The woman was nothing if not literal.

“I want a copy of that, as well, for the case file,” Malia said.

“But what about the missing panel sections?” Keone asked. “The stolen pieces. Even if we prove the site’s cultural significance, many of the physical artifacts are gone.”

“NAGPRA creates a retrieval obligation that follows the area in question,” Dr. Patel said. “Once federal jurisdiction is established, any transferred cultural property has to be returned regardless of how many hands it’s passed through. The question is where they are now.”

“Sophie Smithson, my friend at Security Solutions, might have an idea how to find them,” I said. “If Chang is moving the petroglyphs for sale, they may be tracked through a network she’s aware of. I’ll call her tonight.”

“I’ve got a thought.” Keone moved to stand beside the map. He’d been preoccupied since his brief kiss on my cheek and entry into the shack. He traced the lines of the old cane road with one finger; I recognized signs that he was processing spatial information. I’d seen him do that with flight routes, weather patterns, the physical logic of how things moved through space. “If Chang’s people moved the panels via the old cane road, that means they’ll likely use it again.” He glanced at Lei. “It stands to reason they’d have some kind of storage where they hold the stones and their extraction equipment. Maybe Emerson is being held somewhere close to that.”

“That would make sense,” Lei said, rubbing a small white bone hook between her thumb and fingers.

“If I had kidnapped an archaeologist and was using him to interpret findings—and keep him from completing an important assessment—I’d hold him close to where the work was.” Keone pointed to an area on the map. “Three structures shown on this 1940s survey are within the cane road access zone. Two are decommissioned plantation outbuildings, likely in teardown condition by now, but one . . .” he tapped a spot on the map . . . “is marked as an old water catchment facility. Off the main track. Nobody driving the cane road would go near it unless they knew it was there.”

Lei stared down at the map for a moment. Then she glanced around the room, her gaze fastening on Malia. “With your okay, I’m going to make a call to Hana PD,” she said. “Let’s take a team to check out this location. We have enough probable cause.”

Malia stood with enough force to knock over her folding chair. “Let’s do it.”

“I want to come,” I said.

“Me too,” Keone agreed.

Lei cocked her head. “What do you think, Malia? Should we let these two civilians attend and observe?”

“I think they’ve earned it, as long as they get that lawsuit started and that call to Sophie Smithson done,” Malia said. “Should take us an hour or so to get the go-ahead from my commanding officer and round up our rapid response team.” She narrowed her sharp dark eyes at the two of us. “Think you two can get that stuff done and be ready to follow us up to the old cane road in an hour?”

“You bet,” we said in unison, and glanced at each other in surprise as the others chuckled.

“Match made in heaven, these two,” Lei said. “Let’s roll out.”

The law enforcement women strode out of the shack; it felt empty without them.

I turned to Dr. Patel, who was typing rapidly, hunched over her laptop. “How’s that archaeology case summary coming along?”

“Almost done.”

“Let me give you an email address. You can send it directly to Edith Pepperwhite, Esq, and cc Malia Peahi and me on it.” I sent the info over to Dr. Patel’s phone once I had her contact added to mine.