Page 31 of Talk Story

Following Malia Peahi’s big police SUV up the old cane road in the dark, rutted with washouts and littered with boulders and rocks as it was, took both hands on the wheel and full concentration. Vegetation, including sugarcane allowed to grow wild with the frequent rainfall of the area, leaned in from the sides and scraped Sharkey’s paint with squeals like tongs on a barbecue. I gritted my teeth as we bucked over deep, hardened mud tracks that tore up the red dirt surface. “Seems like the construction equipment they’ve been taking back into the Valley is doing a number on the road.”

“You got that right,” Keone said. “We have to find a way to stop these guys.”

“How did your call with Edith about filing a cease and desist order go?”

“She was totally on board.” He slanted me a grin. “No surprise there. I left Edith with Dr. Patel’s number and a plan to talk to Pearl about filing an injunction to halt the development ASAP.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Now if we can find Dr. Emerson alive, and he and Patel can finish their assessment and turn it into NAGPRA, maybe we can get this corrupt desecration stopped.”

Tiki, sitting in the back seat in her carrier, gave a melancholy yowl that perfectly expressed her dismay.

Eventually the rugged old track forked; we knew from Keone’s map that one side of it went toward the construction site, and the other headed to what had been a processing and staging work area in the sugarcane days—and the abandoned warehouse where we suspected Emerson was being held.

We followed the police SUV as they turned to the left and drove a ways further, then pulled up beside the black SUV. The vehicle was already disgorging four armored and helmeted personnel: Lei, Malia, and two officers from Hana PD they’d recruited for this mission.

I kept my engine and headlights on, pointed at the building for additional illumination, as Lei had told me to. We weren’t trying for surprise on the approach. That we were here at all, and at night, would be a shock to anyone inside the decrepit old tin-roofed building.

My whole body had gone tense with anticipatory adrenaline as I watched the black-clad figures approach the building with weapons drawn; in my Secret Service days, I’d loved nothing more than a good advance security sweep. Lei had given us a spare radio; it crackled on the dash with the officers’ commands.

Keone must have sensed this because he reached over to take my hand, detaching my cold fingers from where they curled tightly around the steering wheel. “I know you want to be there. With them.” His voice was low. “And I love you for it.”

This was the first time he’d touched me or said anything personal since our spat, and I was more than ready to put that behind us. I squeezed his hand, hard. “And I love you for understanding that about me.”

The team breached the locked entry of the battered old building with a door cannon; the boom of metal applied with force to the rusted doors shattered the stillness of the night like a scream.

All four disappeared inside. A moment later, the radio crackled.

“Kat, Keone, get in here—and bring the medical kit and a bottle of water from our SUV.” Lei’s tone was terse.

I turned off the engine and leapt out of Sharkey. Keone and I converged on the police SUV, fortunately unlocked, and rifled the storage bay in back for a handheld medical kit and a large plastic bottle of water.

Keone had thought to bring a flashlight, so I stayed on his six, following him into the mildewy-smelling darkness of the old warehouse. The dim space was now illuminated by headlamps, flashlights, and an emergency lantern someone had thought to bring.

All those lights were focused on a man lying on the floor in a filthy corner of the warehouse. Nainoa Emerson was curled on his side. One of the officers was leaning down to lift him into a sitting position as I hurried forward with the water bottle, breathing through my mouth to screen the smells of urine and mold permeating the place.

“Thirsty,” Emerson whispered. he was a tall man, bald with gray whiskers, and wiry in the way of a long-distance runner. His metal-rimmed glasses had been knocked askew.

I knelt to assist, as his hands, which had been bound, were swollen and clearly not working yet. He reeked of the stale sweat of fear and suffering.

I held the bottle to his lips, and he drank—and would have taken more but I removed the bottle. “Go easy. You can make yourself sick.”

He nodded. I reached over and replaced the man’s glasses on his nose, hooking the stems behind his ears—he deserved a little dignity.

Lei, done searching the warehouse, returned to stand square in front of Emerson. “Do you have any serious injuries? Do we need to call an ambulance?”

“No. Dehydrated. Bruised. Hungry.” Emerson’s voice was hoarse. “I sound bad because I called for help a lot until I realized none was coming.”

“Okay. We’ll drive you back to Hana and the urgent care there—probably faster than an ambulance, anyway.” Lei squatted before him and cocked her head in that curious bird way she had. “What can you tell us about who took you?”

Emerson cleared his throat, a rattle like beans in a beer can. “Not much. There were four of them. They wore bandannas over their faces. They grabbed me in the parking lot of the museum. Tied me up. Threw me in the back of a pickup and drove me out here. Put me in this shed. I was glad they untied my legs and took the gag off.” He shivered; his brown eyes were haunted. “I thought they left me here to die.”

That was my cue to hold the water bottle up for him again; his Adam’s apple bobbed for a bit as he swallowed all that remained.

Lei frowned. “It’s possible the kidnappers wanted you out of the way for a while to impede the report you were writing with Dr. Patel—but when we file, I’ll advise the D.A. that what happened to you qualifies as aggravated kidnapping and possible attempted murder. Heavier charges.”

I glanced around. “Did the team find anything incriminating in here?”

“Seems like they’ve been using this for storage, as Keone speculated,” Lei said. She indicated a heavy tarp spread on the dirt floor and up against one wall. Gouges in the soil were visible beneath it. “That’s likely where they temporarily stored the stone panels. Did you see anything more that’s relevant, Dr. Emerson?”