Dark Lava: Lei Crime Book 7 (Lei Crime Series) Read Free

vigilante justice is going to help the situation. I don’t like the idea of Okapa having a gun.”
    “ I know.” Mahoe blew out a breath, and Stevens could sense his relief that a superior officer wasn’t suspecting the respected kupuna . “I’m worried about him, too. He has a reputation for anger—that’s why his wife left—but this heiau is his life. I think he’ll cool down. I’ll talk to him.”
    “ Good.” Stevens moved out toward the narrow, overgrown path. “As terrible as this is, the last thing we need is some kind of violent racially-motivated outburst when we haven’t even identified a suspect.” He paused. “Speaking of—what is this scene telling you? I want to hear what you’ve been able to assess from it.”
    Mahoe swiveled, hands on hips, imitating Stevens ’s stance. “I think there were at least two in the crew. They had proper tools, came prepared. They knew exactly what they wanted, from what I can tell, and they worked fast, according to Mr. Okapa, which means they probably came ahead of time during the day to case where the artifacts were.”
    “ Very good.” Stevens clapped the young man on the shoulder and set off down the narrow, overgrown path with Mahoe following. “Further, I think they were professionals in removal technique. I could see very little waste or fracture on the rock faces, and believe it or not, those hand jacks are hard to operate. So my sense is that these are pros procuring something for a buyer, which means they’re probably connected with the Oahu desecrations.”
    “ We have to stop this,” Mahoe muttered. “Whatever it takes.”
    They emerged beside the cruiser and the Bronco. Okapa had already crossed the now-busy highway, and Stevens could see him glowering at them from a chair on the front porch of his weathered, tin-roofed cottage.
    “ Why don’t you go take his official statement?” Stevens said. “Give him a chance to tell the tale and cool down.”
    “ Yes, sir.” Mahoe looked both ways and trotted across the road, already taking out his notebook.
    Stevens beeped open the Bronco and stowed the crime kit and evidence bags in the back. Getting into the SUV, he looked over at the tableau across the street. Mahoe was seated beside Okapa, one hand on the older man ’s shoulder, head down, listening, as the older man gesticulated.
    Turning the key, Stevens hoped this was the last he was going to see of Okapa.
     
    Haiku Station was a small, former dry-goods store across a potholed parking lot from a large Quonset-style former pineapple-packing plant that had been converted into a shopping center. Stevens had a small crew under his command—one other detective, four patrol officers, and Mahoe, a new recruit.
    Stevens felt good about how Mahoe was coming along. The benefits of nurturing talent had been drummed into him by his first commanding officer in Los Angeles, along with the fact that all the training in the world couldn ’t make up for a recruit without the “gut instinct” for police work.
    Stevens lifted a hand briefly to the watch officer on duty as he passed through the open room where his team ’s desks were situated, heading for the back room where his office was located. He hadn’t seen his wife since yesterday—Lei was at a daylong training in a wilderness area, learning ordnance retrieval, and he missed her.
    He supposed that was the word to apply to a feeling like a limb had been amputated, like something vital was gone. He wonder ed how he was going to deal with it when she left for California in a few weeks for a two-week multi-agency intensive training on explosive devices.
    He logged into his e-mail and frowned at one from his ex-wife, Anchara. He hadn ’t seen her since the day she left him. They kept in touch via e-mail, but she didn’t communicate often.
    Dear Michael, I have something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago. Can we meet in the next week or so? It ’s better done in