Restless Waters Read online

  “I’m figuring little of both. He’s got a problem, in case you haven’t noticed. It probably comes from shooting up too much juice.”

  I looked at Vinnie, not quite certain what he meant.

  “You know. I’m talking gym candy, Arnolds. That kind of stuff,” Bertucci rattled off.

  He waited for me to react and then impatiently shook his head, frustrated that I still wasn’t getting it.

  “For chrissakes, Yakimov’s a steroid freak.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of that,” I responded.

  “Well, you know what that does to a guy’s erector set, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I admitted.

  “Then let me fill you in,” Vinnie cheerfully offered. “To put it in plain English, Stas can’t get Jimmy and the boys to stand up. My guess is that’s why he’s been helping himself to a good deal of the stash. Of course, he’d never admit it. Instead, he’s blaming late payments on some big fish that’s supposedly been hooked on the island. So, it’s my job to check it out.”

  Vinnie burped and ordered two pieces of macadamia nut fudge cake, along with a couple of cappuccinos.

  “You mean, you flew all the way over here just because you got stiffed on a few pills?” I joked, and enthusiastically dug into the thick gooey mound of calories placed before me. Even better, I didn’t feel the least bit guilty as I polished off every single last crumb. How could I, when Vinnie had said that I was fading away?

  “A few pills?” Vinnie snorted. “Try ten thousand of ’em. Figure it out. That’s ten thousand erections for a quarter million bucks. Now that’s what I call cold, hard cash.”

  Bertucci gave his stomach a satisfied rub, and then wrinkled his nose at me.

  “Hold still a minute,” he ordered, and dunked a napkin into his water glass.

  The next thing I knew, Vinnie was dabbing a smudge of dirt off my face.

  “How’d you get so filthy, anyway?” he asked, taking a closer look at my clothes.

  “It’s a long story.” I sighed, feeling as though I were being cleaned by a mother cat. “I caught this guy snagging illegal reptiles up in the mountains, and twisted him to learn who he was working for. That’s how I got to Yakimov. I had him introduce me to Stas as a buyer. Except the kid proved to be smarter than I thought. It turns out that he set me up,” I revealed.

  “How do you figure that?” Vinnie asked, and took a sip of his cappuccino. He quickly pushed the cup away. “This place should be closed down for mutilating good Italian coffee.”

  However, he seemed to reconsider a moment later. I watched as Vinnie pulled the cup back and dumped three heaping teaspoons of sugar into it.

  “Okay, now go ahead. Finish what you were saying,” he instructed, and tasted the brew once more.

  “This kid told me to meet Stas in his backyard. Only Yakimov had specifically warned him that I was to come to the front door, knowing that his dogs would be loose. Naturally, the pit bulls thought I was a trespasser and began to attack as soon as I set foot on the property. I would have been a goner if Stas hadn’t been there to call them off. That was probably the kid’s plan all along,” I theorized. “My concern is that he’ll rat me out when he learns that I’m still alive.”

  “So, where does this kid live, anyway?” Vinnie casually asked, beginning to clean his nails with a file.

  I instantly regretted having told him the story.

  “Uh-uh. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll handle this on my own,” I warned.

  “Don’t be such a hard-ass, Porter. I’ll just pay the guy a visit and we’ll have a friendly little chat,” Bertucci replied.

  Tempting as that might be, I couldn’t possibly allow it.

  “I’m serious, Vinnie. I know you mean well, but stay out of this,” I firmly advised.

  Vinnie shrugged and put away his nail file. “Whatever you say. It’s your neck. Besides, I’ve got my own problems to handle.”

  We walked back to the Royal Hawaiian, where I picked up my Ford.

  “I plan to be around a few more days. What say we get together one night and take in Don Ho’s show? I love that Tiny Bubbles crap,” Vinnie said with a straight face.

  “Sure. That would be fine,” I replied, gambling that he’d probably never call.

  Then I got in my vehicle and Vinnie closed the door.

  “Take care of yourself, Porter. I’d hate to see you end up as dog chow.”

  I drove off thinking about Vinnie, how to get even with Rasta Boy, and the black-market trade in Viagra.

  I heard the sound of talking and laughter as I walked through the door. For once, Spam didn’t come running to the kitchen to greet me. Neither did Tag-along sashay in to rub against my legs and beg for food. Things were bad when even the damn cat couldn’t be bothered.

  I headed into the living room, where Kevin and Santou were drinking a few beers and reminiscing about old times together. Funny how my radar instantly flew into action, hoping to pick up any juicy bits of gossip.

  Half the time, I wondered if it would have been any easier if Kevin were a woman. At least then I’d have known what I was up against and how best to deal with it. As things were, I simply felt left out. What can I say? It sucked having to compete with a man for Santou’s attention.

  “Hey, chere. You didn’t come home for dinner tonight,” Jake said with a smile.

  I took that as a good sign. It could have been worse. He might not even have noticed that I hadn’t been here. As for Kevin, he was back to being his old self again.

  “You look a little worse for wear. Hot date tonight?” he asked with a smirk, bringing the bottle of beer to his lips.

  “Yeah. As a matter of fact, I got together with your old girlfriend and she filled me in on all the dirt,” I countered, slipping back into our familiar roles. “Actually, I bumped into Vinnie Bertucci. Remember him?”

  Both men instantly perked up.

  “You’re kidding. Bertucci’s on Oahu?” Santou asked, with more interest than he’d shown in a while. “That can only mean one thing: trouble. Any idea what he’s up to?”

  I hesitated, not all that eager to share information with them.

  “Not really. Maybe he’s just here on vacation,” I replied.

  “Sure. I hear the guy’s really big into whacking fish.” Kevin sneered. “Only instead of using a rod and reel, he’s partial to a nine-millimeter Uzi. If Vinnie the Vault is in town, then you can bet something’s going down.”

  “Vinnie the Vault?” I dubiously inquired, never having heard the nickname before.

  “Yeah, it’s because of his size,” Kevin retorted.

  “I hope you don’t plan on spending any time with the guy,” Santou added. “Bertucci’s moved up the ladder since his days in New Orleans and, trust me, it’s not the kind of company you want to keep.”

  “I don’t see why there should be a problem,” I responded. “It’s not as if he’s involved in the wildlife trade. Vinnie even said he’d never harm a living, breathing thing, as long as it wasn’t a human being.”

  Santou looked at me in amusement, “Now that’s an interesting comment. And just what category do you suppose you fall under, chere?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Damn it. I hate when I don’t have a good comeback.

  “Jake’s right,” Kevin said, unexpectedly turning serious. “The guy’s bad news. Nothing but trouble follows wherever he goes.”

  Or maybe he follows trouble, I thought. In which case, we have the trait in common.

  I decided to play it smart, and not argue the matter any further.

  “Why don’t I let you two finish your beers? I’m beat. I’m going to call it a night and head into bed,” I said.

  Jake gave me a kiss. “I’ll join you in a little while, chere.”

  Spam didn’t follow, but remained where he was, with his chin solidly planted on Santou’s foot.

  I’d apparently been telling the truth. No sooner did I hit the pil
low than I instantly fell asleep. Neither Spam nor Santou roused me as they entered the room.

  I continued to sleep the sleep of the dead, until a strange chirping worked its way into my head. I awoke in the dark, unable to determine what the odd noise was, or where it was coming from. I strained to listen as the sound morphed into what seemed to be the smacking of lips, along with the rapid pitter-patter of tiny feet. Quickly looking around, I spied a bizarre sight silhouetted in a shaft of moonlight. There on the wall were a small gecko and a cockroach, of nearly equal size, engaged in a deadly stand-off.

  I stared, transfixed, as the two now entered into battle. The cockroach lunged, as if hoping to fake out its attacker, and then began to swiftly scuttle away. But the lizard held the definite advantage. Its long tongue lashed out with the speed of a whip, its sticky tip latching onto its prey. The bug’s horror was so palpable that it conjoined with the pounding of my blood upon slowly being reeled back into the lizard’s waiting jaws. With the bug firmly in grip, the gecko then turned its graceful neck and proceeded to bash the roach, over and over, against the wall.

  The cockroach flailed its legs in a desperate attempt to escape. Its wings scraped against the cracked paint with the herky-jerky movement of defective window wipers, fluttering frantically until they were torn. Though the bug did all it could to cling to life, it finally gave up, unable to fight anymore. The last of its energy ebbed, along with the thrum of my blood. The struggle ended, and to the victor went the spoils.

  Then the lizard turned its head and held me captive with its eerie eyes while clutching the corpse in its mouth. My stomach tightened in a virulent knot as the lizard now began to devour its prey, with its pupils still glued to mine.

  Rolling over, I pressed myself against Santou, no longer able to watch. It wasn’t the life and death battle that bothered me. But rather the uneasy premonition that I was also about to fall victim to the ruthless law of the jungle. I somehow knew I’d already been strapped into a roller coaster ride from which there was no breaking loose.

  The noxious crunch, crunch, crunch of the bug’s shell being consumed echoed in the room as I slowly fell back into a restless sleep.

  Eleven

  The lizard was gone by the time I awoke the next morning. All that remained were a few tiny legs to confirm what had taken place the night before. A chill sped through me, even though the air was already heating up. Grabbing my clothes, I started for the bathroom, only to feel Santou reach out and grab me. The next thing I knew, I’d been pulled back into bed.

  “How about a proper hello? You were already fast asleep when I came into the room last night,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

  “It’s not my fault that you prefer Kevin’s company to mine,” I lightly retorted, letting my feelings show.

  Santou propped up his head and looked at me. “You don’t seriously believe that, do you, chere?” he asked, with a note of concern in his voice.

  Even now, Santou had the salty aroma of the ocean, and the sharp, clean smell of the beach, about him. I took a deep whiff and reveled in the scent while running my fingers along his bare skin, its hue as golden brown as finely burnished leather.

  “Maybe I just don’t like having to share you,” I whispered in his ear.

  But I knew it was far more than that. I worried that Kevin might be closer to Jake than I would ever be. It was something that bothered me as much as any physical betrayal.

  Maybe Santou wondered the same thing as he rolled me onto my back and pinned my hands near my head. I didn’t fight, but steeled myself to hear whatever he had to say.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, chere. You’ll always be the most important person in my life, no matter what. But Kevin and I have a history together. That doesn’t take anything away from you and me. In fact, I want to make sure that we both stay around for a good, long time. So much that I’ll make you a deal. I won’t surf the big waves until I get more experience. However, you have to promise me something in kind.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, already dreading his request.

  “You keep me in the loop concerning whatever it is that you’re doing. I don’t like to think of you being on your own out there, high and dry. I know you’re not crazy about Kevin. But believe me, both of us can help you more than you realize. Take advantage of what we’re offering here. It’ll make me feel better, and will give you an edge that others working alone in the field don’t have.”

  I could feel my resistance begin to crumble as easily as a castle made of sand.

  “Do I have your word on that?” he asked, slowly lowering his body against mine.

  “You’ve got my word,” I promised, and closed my eyes, seduced by Santou, the smell of the ocean, and the sound of the tide.

  Sometimes, while stuck in my seventh-floor office, it was hard to believe that I was actually in Hawaii. I could have been anywhere, doing the same mind-numbing paperwork, the same tedious dumb-ass reports. Even the low hum of the planes ferrying tourists back and forth added to the growing sense of monotony.

  I’d heard the problem described as the downward spiral of tropical entropy. The work speed is barely moving, and all plans tend to fall apart. Most blithely let it flow over them like a tidal wash. Blame for it is placed on the constant state of humidity that eats away and causes everything to rot. Maybe so. But from what I could tell, most federal agents stationed here were routinely deballed and broken by their superiors until they reported in to work each day as zombies. That wasn’t true in my case. It came from feeling that time was speeding by without me.

  Revving my engine this morning was the knowledge that I’d soon be meeting with Sammy Kalahiki. I was anxious to see what sort of hard-core evidence he’d produce. Kalahiki had done a superb job of snagging me on his hook. Now all he had to do was come up with the goods tonight in order to reel me in.

  Truth be told, anticipation had gotten the better of me hours ago. I could already tell that his story had all the earmarks of a big case. Some people are good at reading tarot cards, others at unmasking stock-market fraud, while there are those who excel at diagnosing disease. As for me, simply point toward corruption and let me go. Unfortunately, I had Norm Pryor trying to hang on to my reins.

  He walked in that morning dressed in his usual attire: white leather mocs and a pair of camo pants that could have doubled as pajama bottoms. Today’s shirt was decorated with palm trees, surfboards, and antique “woody” station wagons. Pryor glanced in as he strolled past my office, reminding me of the gecko on my wall last night.

  “Good morning, Porter. Glad to see that you made it in to work today.”

  Good morning, teacher, I silently responded, waiting until he’d settled at his desk and begun to open the bag that held his breakfast pastry.

  Then I got up, walked into his office, and plunked my own bag of goodies in front of him.

  “Here. I thought you might enjoy this with your coffee,” I offered.

  “What is it?” he asked suspiciously, pursing his lips into a perfectly round O. “Don’t tell me it’s another one of those damn lizards.”

  “No lizards in there,” I promised. “Remember the deal we made?”

  Pryor’s expression remained as blank as an unpainted canvas.

  “Deal? What sort of deal?” he questioned, his apprehension beginning to grow.

  “You said if I could prove that a cougar was running around in the mountains, you’d gladly eat its scat.”

  Pryor glared at me, his lips compressing into a thin, straight line.

  “Well, I hope you’re hungry, because here’s your proof,” I responded, barely able to keep the grin off my face.

  Pryor cautiously opened the bag and peered inside.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed, and pushed the sack aside.

  “Exactly,” I confirmed.

  “And what makes you so certain that it comes from a mountain lion?” he scornfully questioned, as if hoping to trump bureaucratic muscle over science. />
  “Because I saw the cat for myself,” I replied. “Those lizards that I brought you the other day? I tracked down the person responsible for breeding them. There’s a guy on Oahu that’s in cahoots with pet store chains on the mainland. Stas Yakimov is being sent a wide variety of reptiles. In return, he’s establishing colonies in the wild and then pipelining them back to those stores to be sold. That’s where I got the scat from. I paid Yakimov a visit. He also has plans to start breeding mountain lions for profit.”

  “In other words, this thing’s living in a cage at his house. That’s not exactly the same as a cat running wild in the mountains,” Pryor said, looking relieved.

  “Sorry, but you’re wrong about that. Yes, this one’s in a pen. But his first cougar got loose. That’s the one that people are seeing. We’ve got to bust this guy. Only I don’t want to do it immediately. Instead, I’d like to work him undercover for a while. That way, I can discover which wholesalers are sneaking reptiles in to be illegally bred. I’m also hoping to get evidence on all the pet stores that are involved,” I revealed, figuring my plan amounted to a major coup.

  I had expected Pryor to be ecstatic. It could very well mean a gold star from D.C. for him, too. Which was why I was surprised by his reaction.

  “Whoa! Hold on there a minute.” Pryor balked. “You’re not going to do a damn thing until I’ve had time to think this thing through.”

  “Why? What’s the problem?” I asked, my insides beginning to do flip-flops.

  “This could prove to be a real Pandora’s box,” he replied, nervously licking his lips and tapping his fingers together. “After all, how much do we really want to hurt pet stores on the mainland? Especially in this economy? And then of course, there’s this fellow, Yakimov, that you keep talking about. I need to find out exactly who he is, and his connections. For all we know, he has the tacit approval of the state.”

  “What are you talking about?” I nearly howled. “This is a state law that’s being broken.”

  “Listen, Porter. There’s something that you still don’t seem to understand. Everything in Hawaii runs according to who you know. That being the case, there’s not a hell of a lot of reason to enforce things,” he snapped. “Which means that I’m not about to jump into this without first studying the problem. We don’t need to go and embarrass ourselves.”