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Love or Justice Page 22
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“Don’t they have school?” Laurie raised her eyebrows.
“I homeschool them. Besides, when my husband comes back I want to be able to give him a piece of my mind the minute he comes in the door.” Gabriella folded her arms across her chest.
“Do you really think they’ve gone after Kaimi?” Worry settled into her stomach.
“Absolutely.” Emma slammed a cabinet door as she got out the juice glasses.
“I doubt they will even find him before they give up and come home. They’ll be fine.” Gabriella gave Laurie a reassuring smile.
This news did little to comfort Laurie. She nodded her head, but felt heartsick.
“Why didn’t they tell us they wanted to do this?” She looked up at Emma. Emma turned to her from the stove.
“Because they knew we flat out wouldn’t let them do it. A retired general, a retired CIA agent, and a discredited U.S. Marshal traipsing about Hawaii looking for a well-known murderer. They’ll be arrested before they even get near Kaimi. When it happens, I’m not bailing them out. Furthermore, if my son hasn’t lost his job for vanishing with you, than he will when he shows up in Hawaii without you.” Emma turned back to the stove stirring the oatmeal vigorously.
“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m sorry I caused all this.” Laurie crossed her arms over her chest.
“Oh, no, honey. You can’t take any of the credit for this. It’s their fault, Kaimi, my husband, my son, and Bob. They’re responsible for this havoc. I cannot believe they would do it.” Emma slammed the wooden spoon down on the stove.
Laurie nodded, as she peered into her coffee cup for answers. Now what was she supposed to do? She had followed Dante’s lead up until now, but he was gone without a word. She wanted to chase after him. She wanted to board a plane and go back to Hawaii, but Hawaii equaled death for her. He was all that stood between her and Kaimi’s hit men; well, besides herself and her own instincts. No, no. She had made a home here now. As long as Emma would let her stay, she would. She had to stay hidden, she had to stay safe. She was going to testify at Kaimi’s trial even if it was the last thing she did.
“Emma, can you teach me to shoot? To protect myself?” Laurie asked. Emma turned with a quizzical look.
“Why?” Emma’s eyes narrowed. Laurie lowered her voice, so the boys couldn’t hear over the TV.
“So if anything happens, I can fight back. Dante, Albert, and Bob could all shoot, but they’re all gone now. You learned to shoot at the agency, and Gabriella learned in the Air Force. Everyone can defend themselves but me, and I’m the one that needs to defend myself more than any of you.” Laurie gestured to herself.
Emma looked thoughtful for a minute or two, studying Laurie.
“Yes, we can do that. I can show you a lot about self-defense. But you can’t shoot my son when he comes back.” Emma pointed the wooden spoon at her.
Laurie chuckled.
“I promise it will only be for defense. I don’t want to shoot him.” Laurie shook her head.
“Really? I know I’m tempted.” Emma leaned over the oatmeal. Laurie and Gabriella smiled at each other for the first time that morning, as Emma began scooping the oatmeal out into large bowls. Then she brought the bowls over to the table.
Laurie looked at the oatmeal, but her stomach turned sour. She wasn’t hungry, at least not enough to counterbalance the ball of nerves rolling around in her stomach. The boys joined them for breakfast.
As soon as the boys wandered back to the TV, the women began making plans to train Laurie in firearms and self-defense. Then they made plans for schooling the boys while they were staying in Nebraska, and upkeep around the farm for the winter. They didn’t know when the men would be back, but the women were going to make sure they didn’t have time to miss them very much.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dante
Dante squinted, looking out over the parking lot at Bradshaw. He had hoped the truck might still be there, but it was gone. He sighed. Any pretense of returning to his normal life here vanished. Dante turned to his father.
“Do we have everything? It’s going to be a long hike. We won’t get there until nightfall.” Dante nodded to their packs.
“We’re ready.” Albert adjusted the pack on his shoulders.
Bob nodded. Bob was pale and red-eyed from flying for several hours while Albert and Dante slept.
Dante knew Bob had grown accustomed to long missions without sleep, but he wondered if Bob was a little far from those days.
“All right, we’re headed toward the volcano.” Dante foisted his pack onto his back.
Dante led them down the side of the highway to the access road leading to the Mauna Kea State Park. Then they branched off on a trail that ran along Mauna Road. After a few hours, they stopped for a break. They sank down onto the grass of the embankment. Dante looked at his father and uncle; both of them were panting, sweating from the heat and the physical labor. The sheen of perspiration turned their skin a pasty grey. They seemed frail to him, old, as they struggled to breathe. The sweat enhanced their wrinkles and dampened their grey hairs. It made Dante doubt their mission. He wondered whether it was a mistake to come here. Now that they had come all this way, he doubted their pride would let them turn back without finding something out about Kaimi.
Dante resolved himself to go slower for the rest of the day, to make them rest more than what he would if he was on his own. He let them take an extra-long break, as Bob lay down in the grass beside the trail to take a combat nap. Dante made sure they drank extra water, because the day was muggy—a shock to their systems given where they had just come from.
After their break, they hiked several more hours up the trail, before it broke off to the right. Dante paused there. If he went straight ahead, he would go down to the waterfall he had taken Laurie to the last time he was here. It made the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile to think of her as she was on that day. The thought was so delicious, he suggested they stop there for lunch. They broke out their food then ate in virtual silence, each man keeping his own thoughts.
After they rested, they turned down the trail that led into the Hilo Forest Reserve. They descended downward for a long while, climbing over logs and stones thrown down from the volcano. The humidity deepened. The sweat dripped down their faces like rain. They were able to move faster now, descending downward until they hit a gentle rolling land base. Despite taking frequent breaks, Dante was surprised with how quickly they reached the tree line above the Hilo safe house.
Dante pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the house in the dim twilight. There were no cars he could see, no movement. In fact, he could still see the crime scene tape surrounding the property. He pulled out his uncle’s infrared goggles. There was nothing but greens and blues. No one was there.
He motioned them forward. In slow, lumbering moves, Bob and Albert picked themselves up from the forest floor, following Dante to the patio of the safe house. Dante left them there as he walked around the perimeter. The windows had been replaced; the beaten doors riddled with bullet holes had been put back. Otherwise, the place looked untouched from the attack that occurred months ago. The doors were still sealed with crime scene tape, which gave Dante pause before he split it open. Then he slid his key into the lock, turned the knob, and entered the house from the front.
Now he knew the house had been undisturbed since he left it. The counters had a thin layer of dust. Dishes were still sitting in the drain board. Broken glass sparkled at the base of every window. Dante walked the length of the kitchen, thinking of his race to get to Cheyn. He wondered how his friend was doing, and wished he could call him. He knew he couldn’t.
Dante entered the living room, took a brief sweeping glance of it, then opened the patio door to let in Albert and Bob.
The two men entered. They looked around the house. They observed the bullet holes littering the wall, the cracked TV screen, and the bloodstains on the carpet where men had died.
“Must have been quite
a firefight.” Bob surveyed the damage to the wall beside him.
“It was.” He turned away, leading them into the kitchen.
Dante looked through the canned goods he had bought months before. He swept the broken glass off the counter, then evaluated the refrigerator. It had been emptied and cleaned. Dante gave silent thanks for that. He pulled out some pasta and sauce from the cabinet and began making them dinner.
Albert and Bob sat at the table exhausted.
“How far is the campsite we’re going to?” Bob laid his head in his hands.
“A hike,” Dante replied over his shoulder. “But not like the one we had today. It should be half-a-day.”
“Oh, is that all?” Bob gave a rueful smile.
“You’ll feel better after you’ve had a full night’s rest.” Dante smiled into the boiling water.
“Good. I was starting to worry.” Bob wiped the sweat from his brow. Dante turned to his father and uncle.
“When is the rental car company picking us up?” Dante leaned against the counter.
“Tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.” He spread his map out on the table. “The motel is booked just for the night, and we’ll get the rental boat in the morning.”
“Good.” Dante turned back to his boiling pot of water.
Albert made a non-committal grunt, as he continued to peer at the map.
Dante broke open the box of pasta, dumping it all in. Then he opened the sauce, and poured it into another pot. A cell phone rang, which caused Dante to jump, swinging around.
His father reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, his eyes never leaving the map.
“Hello?” Albert asked into the receiver. There was a long pause as Albert listened. “I see. So they didn’t find anything?”
Dante turned his back on the conversation. He poured the cooked noodles into a strainer, shut off the bubbling sauce, and got out the plates.
“Are there any new leads?” Albert asked. “Uh-huh. That’s interesting. I see. Well, if I can be of any help, please let me know. Thank you. Goodbye.”
“Dinner’s ready.” Dante pulled a lump of noodles out of the strainer.
“That was one of our field agents out here—an old trainee of mine.” Albert smirked. “The FBI raided the Molokai house a week ago, but they didn’t find any evidence of Kaimi.”
“We gathered that from your end of the conversation already.” Dante’s jaw hardened.
“What did he say about the new leads?” Bob massaged the back of his neck as he leaned on the table.
“Well, the FBI has requested the assistance of the CIA. The agency has pulled the file on Kaimi going all the way back to my reports. Anything that has been declassified has been sent over to the FBI,” Albert said.
“What does that mean?” Dante put their plates in front of them.
“It means they have no idea where he is.” Bob attacked a mouthful of dinner.
“It means they’re looking for something.” Albert gave Bob a pointed look. “They must think there’s something in those files that will point them in the right direction. They wouldn’t even think of digging through years of paperwork without the need.”
Dante ran his hand down his face. His weariness overcame him. He didn’t want to be here. The truth was, he didn’t want to be anywhere without Laurie.
“Which isn’t going to be very helpful to us until they find a new lead.” Dante shook his head. “We could be waiting for weeks just to hear something.”
“Not if we find the connection first.” Albert smiled.
“How are you going to do that without the bloody files?” Bob pointed his fork at Albert. Albert looked at him, his grin widening. “Don’t tell me you’re going to pull the file out of your hat.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not. I have it on a thumb drive.” Albert took a large bite out of his spaghetti. Bob and Dante both stared at him.
“Do you have updated information on Kaimi? More than just your own work?” Dante leaned forward.
“Up to the last CIA report about a year ago. Nothing leading up to the kidnapping or since then, but if the FBI wants all of those files, then we do too.” Albert gave a nod of finality.
“How come you haven’t said anything about this until right now?” Dante lifted his hands in frustration.
“Wasn’t relevant at the time.” Albert shrugged. “But now it is.”
Dante shook his head.
“Well, let’s hope we can figure something out before anyone figures us out.” Dante poked at his dinner.
“Oh we will.” Albert took a long drink of water. “The CIA will only send over the declassified files to the FBI. I have all of the files.”
Dante looked at his father, who grinned like he just won an Olympic medal. Dante laughed. Of course, his father had the classified files.
“Do you have a computer here?” Bob looked at Dante. Dante’s brow knit.
“No. I don’t. I can check around. I’ll see if they took Max or David’s with them when they cleaned up the house. I’m sure Cheyn came back for his. Mine went with me to the other safe house in Kona.” His eyes flicked up to the second level of the house, and then back to the table.
After dinner, Dante led Albert and Bob upstairs. He paused over the spot where David died. He felt his pack grow heavy, his shoulders slumped with the weight. Dante’s mind wandered over that night. The alarmed cry from downstairs, the sound of gunfire, the smell of blood and sweat, Laurie’s tear soaked face as he half-dragged her out of the house. They all flashed in his memory.
“Son?” Albert grabbed his shoulder. Dante shook himself out of it.
“Yeah—sorry.” Dante moved further down the hall.
Albert and Bob exchanged glances, but said nothing.
Dante threw his pack into his old room. He told Bob to take Laurie’s. Then he entered Max’s old room with his father. One glance told him all of Max’s things were gone. The room hadn’t been cleaned, but his belongings had all been removed. Dante went into David’s room next. All of David’s belongings were still there. His wife was probably about to give birth, or had just given birth. David’s sparse belongings were probably not her highest priority. Dante crouched beside the bed, peering under it, where he had seen David stow his laptop. It was there, waiting for him like a parting gift. Dante scooped it up and dumped it on the bed.
“It’s still here.” Dante’s chest lifted and he said a silent prayer of thanks.
“Good. Let’s tell the rental car company we’ve decided to stay at the campsite for a bit longer. I’ll cancel the motel and postpone the boat. We’ll need time to analyze the data.” Albert took the laptop from the bed.
“We should keep the rental to go for groceries. I can hike up to the campsite tomorrow and take care of that.” Dante sat down heavily on the bed. Bob and Albert nodded.
“How do you want to work this Albert?” Bob gestured to the laptop.
“We can each take shifts with the computer. We’ll read the reports. Mark down any significant locations that are mentioned. We can start a matrix with the report name, location, and page number so we can go back to it. If a certain location has a lot of significance—a reported hide out, or if the CIA suspected someone gave Kaimi cover, then we’ll have a clear record of it. If something keeps popping up, that will stand out too. Get some sleep. We can start on this first thing tomorrow.” Albert set the laptop on the bedside table.
“Yes, sir, General Stark.” Dante saluted him with tired smile.
“Hey! There is only one general in this family, and it ain’t him.” Bob wagged his finger at him.
Dante chuckled, as he dragged himself off the bed. Exhaustion sank in. He walked the house with his father and uncle to help them get their bearings. They took pictures of how the place looked, so they could return the house to an almost identical state before they left. They resolved to use electricity and heat for as little as possible, to reduce the likelihood anyone in the Marshals Service would catch their i
ntrusion. Then they took turns showering quickly, before falling into bed exhausted.
***
Laurie
Laurie raised her head up from the toilet. She gripped the seat, pushing herself off the floor with trembling arms. She still felt so nauseous, but nothing was happening. She might as well go downstairs.
Laurie walked back into her bedroom in shuffling steps. The wind outside the house rattled the windows and sent a chill through her. She looked at her bed, sighing. She’d hardly slept since Dante left. Her nightmares had come back, more vivid than ever. When she wasn’t at their mercy, she lay awake wondering where Dante was and if they were all okay.
She dressed, throwing her hair back into a ponytail. She knew there were bags under her eyes and her skin was blotchy from lack of sleep, but she didn’t have enough energy to put on make-up. She made her way down the stairs holding tight to the railing, as she worked hard to put one foot in front of the other. When she reached the kitchen, Emma and Gabriella looked up, then exchanged worried glances.
“Oh honey, are you still not feeling well?” Emma clasped her hands together.
“No. Not at all.” She dropped into a seat at the kitchen table.
“How about some juice?” Emma got up. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“I can’t eat anything, but I’ll take the juice.” Laurie rested her head in her hands.
“Laurie, you’ve been like this for a few days now. I think we need to take you to the doctor.” An edge of authority slipped into Gabriella’s voice.
Laurie sighed. She hated doctors, but she was so tired of fighting them on this.
“Okay.” She laid her head down on the table as her stomach turned over again. She might not want to go, but if the doctor could at least tell her what was going on, it would be worth it.
Emma set down some juice and saltines in front of her. Laurie picked up the juice, taking a small sip.
“Well, the nearest doctor’s down in Fremont.” Emma rubbed Laurie’s shoulders.
“Great.” She spared the saltines a heated glare before turning her attention back to her juice.