“If this is too much for you, I’ve got things to do.”
“I know how cops work.” Fitch’s tone had gone high and whiny. “Use people and leave ’em on the street like gum.”
The balled napkin hit the tray and bounced toward Lo.
“Calm the fuck down, Fitch.”
The CI slumped back and crossed his arms. “Shit.”
A woman nosed a stroller to the table beside our booth. She looked about sixty. I couldn’t see the baby, wondered if it was hers. Weird, but I did.
Fitch’s eyes jumped to the woman. Again circled the restaurant.
“I don’t want to be celebrating a birthday here.” Lo made no effort to mask his impatience. “You got something for me or not?”
“Cash?” Fitch asked.
Lo nodded.
Leaning forward, the CI placed both forearms on the tabletop and began worrying the sides of the tray with his thumbs.
“OK. About six months back your guy shows up—”
“Francis Kealoha?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Shows up from where?”
“California. San Fran, I think. Maybe LA. That part I’m not sure.”
“This better be solid.”
“Yeah, yeah. Kealoha shows up with this dude called Logo.”
“You know Logo’s real name?”
Fitch shook his head.
Lo made a note in his spiral. Then, “You’re sure this was Francis Kealoha?”
“Yeah, yeah. We grew up together at KPT. It was him.”
“Go on.”
Fitch’s thumbs flipped up, dropped. “That’s it. Frankie and Logo show up together. A few months later both drop off the radar.”
“Give me some dates.”
“I look like their travel agent?”
Lo’s glare could have reversed global warming.
“OK. I’m thinking I stopped seeing them maybe three, four weeks ago.”
Lo turned to me. The time frame worked, given the condition of the remains from Halona Cove. I nodded.
“Where was Kealoha living?”
“I heard up at Waipahu.”
Lo made a note on his pad. Then, “Go on.”
“That’s it.”
“Then your bony ass pays for that burger.”
Seconds passed. A full minute.
Fitch’s thumbs made soft, scratchy sounds against the edge of the tray.
“What I got’s worth more than a nifty.”
“Don’t you read the papers? It’s a bad year for bonuses.”
Fitch cocked his chin at me, then Ryan.
“I got risk here.”
Lo considered a moment. Then, “If it’s good, we’ll see.”
Beside us, the baby began to cry.
Fitch’s eyes again danced his surroundings.
“Word is Kealoha was doing business where he shouldn’t have.”
“Dealing what?”
“Coke, weed. The usual.”
“Who’d he cut in on?”
