“To the clinic in Waianae,” I said. “Kurt’s had carbon monoxide exposure…”
“I see that-and Michael doesn’t look good either.” Tom spoke crossly, as he took Kurt’s pulse. “Why didn’t you call me for help earlier? You said you would do that.”
“Sorry. We lost our supply bag with Michael’s phone, our walkie-talkie and other equipment in the ocean.”
“OK then. When I received a telephone call from Calvin, I was confused, but tried to keep calm. Then, when Michael’s friend from the boat telephoned, I realized you must be at the Kikuchi house, despite what Calvin had said, and I was quite worried.”
“Parker called you?” I was stunned.
“You apparently left your mobile telephone aboard, and Parker scanned the numbers stored within and started calling all the ones with Hawaii exchanges. It took a few calls before he tried our landline, and reached me.”
“I told Parker about Tom as a back-up,” Michael said in his slowed-down, weak voice.
“He thought you three were signaling trouble from the house. Some lights!”
“There was no signal,” Michael said ruefully. Calvin knocked me out too fast.”
“I did it when I was upstairs,” I said, then was distracted by the sight of Tom, who had angled Kurt under him and was now performing CPR.
We were fast approaching the Kainani gatehouse, and while I knew it would probably look incriminating for me to stop there in the car everyone knew was the Kikuchis’, I knew that to avoid stopping would be worse. In a few clear sentences, I told the startled teenage attendant to call an ambulance to the guard booth to take Michael and Kurt to the Waianae Clinic.
“Please go with them, Tom,” I said. “And when you get there, please tell my father I’m absolutely fine.”
“Where will you be?” Tom gasped on his up-breath.
“I’m staying here to meet the police. They have to know what happened, before they find two mashed-up guys at the Kikuchi mansion, notice the stolen car, and come to a different conclusion.”
“It could be bad for you, Rei,” Michael said groggily. “Did you get anything good?”
“I hope so, because I kept my wetsuit on and the tape-recorder running the whole time. I found a bit of evidence in the bathroom that’s more than we ever dreamed of, too.”
“The poison?” Michael murmured.
“Maybe. There were plenty of drugs, but also Charisse’s hair band, which I pray to God is still trapped in the bathtub where I saw it.”
38
I DON’T KNOW if it was because of everyone’s prayers or swift medical care, but Kurt survived, albeit with some changes. His words came more slowly, and what he said was a bit nicer. Still, the military doctors at Tripler, where he was transferred, were sure he was fit enough to stay with the SEALS. I was also relieved that he didn’t resent me for what happened, but rather credited me for sticking around in a dangerous place long enough to save his life.
A number of other good things happened, too. Charisse’s hair band, which I’d worried so much about moving, was still inside the bath drain cover along with a few strands of her hair. The tape-recorder I’d worn had functioned and recorded all the damning words that Calvin had said. As a result, both Jiro and Calvin had been charged in the murder of Charisse. Additionally, Calvin faced charges of arson, and various counts of attempted murder regarding Michael, Kurt, my father, and myself.
Over the phone from Tokyo, Hugh had said the way that things played out was sheer luck-that a hair band in a bath drain alone probably couldn’t have sent Jiro and Calvin to jail, and Michael, Kurt and I might have been charged with home invasion if Calvin and Jiro hadn’t so clearly attempted to murder us.
“I miss you, Rei, but I don’t miss all your high drama and danger,” Hugh had said at the end of our conversation. I’d hung up and thought about his comment. For me, events in the month had been remarkable; I’d come to believe that Hawaii was a place where miracles could, and did, happen. After all, my father had gotten better, and so had I. And, in my case, healing meant more than a recovery from poisoning; it was a recovery from chronic loneliness, the discovery that not only was I able to live with other people, I loved it. Taking care of my father, uncle and cousin had been the opening act; now I could commit myself to Michael with an open heart and confidence. And while I would probably always love Uncle Yosh and Courtney and the rest of the Hawaiian Shimura clan, I felt Edwin had learned something from knowing us, and I fully accepted my role in his particular tribe.
Edwin had finally made some money on an internet auction, and he’d undertaken a new job to keep himself busy: family wedding planner, although Aunt Margaret was the one who actually secured a sunset wedding on the hotel lawn, with just five days’ notice. Braden was dutifully filling out his application for the James School with the help of my father, Uncle Hiroshi and Tom, who all had a different take on the essay question ‘Tell Us about Yourself!”
Courtney and Uncle Yosh had been my shopping companions at every bridal boutique in Honolulu, and helped me decide on a long, bias-cut, creamy silk gown tinged with just a bit of yellow on the bottom. “Look like plumeria,” Uncle Yosh had said, and Courtney had promised to make both Michael and me wedding leis that were rich with my favorite Hawaiian flowers.
Michael returned to D.C. the day after Jiro and Calvin were arrested. That morning, he’d come Leeward one last time to ask my father, who was still in the hospital, permission to marry me. Of course, my father granted it, and Michael and I drove back to Waikiki to pick up his luggage and walk the Alai Wai Canal one last time.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” Michael said.
I shot a glance at him, because he sounded so sober. Surely he wasn’t changing his mind?
“The other night, you made a crack about there being some kind of James Bond attraction.”
“Yes, I did say that, although of course, I don’t really want to marry James Bond. I want to marry you.”
“When you rescued me in the garage, I told you I was getting out of the business. I mean to do it. No more spying.”
“Oh, well. At least I’ll have my memories.” I squeezed his hand.
“Actually, when I was meeting with my old friend at Pearl Harbor-I didn’t mention it before, but that lunch was more like a job interview.”
“Do you want to join the Navy again?” I felt something inside me drop. Sure, the Navy was safer work than OCI, but he’d be away from me for months at a time every year. It would be like being single again.
“I wouldn’t reactivate, no. But there’s a center for Pacific Rim intelligence based right here. The pay’s OK, and…well, we could live here, in Hawaii.”
“You’d want to live here?” He’d hinted at it before, and of course I loved Hawaii, but I hadn’t imagined it could ever happen. I was used to hardship and suffering, not the prospect of life on a tropical island.
“After I get Braden squared away at the James School and some projects are tied up at OCI, I’d love to come back. The sailing is unbelievable, and this mix of Asian and Western culture makes it the perfect place for us to raise children. They won’t be singled out for being half-anything; they’ll just be like everyone else.”
“I see your point,” I said slowly.
“And it’s not just for our kids; it’s the state itself. We’re halfway between Japan and the US, the perfect neutral ground for both of us. You can continue with OCI, and there’ll be no conflict of interest if I’m working for the federal government at Pearl Harbor.”
I imagined myself in Japan, overworked, alone and exhausted in OCI’s luxurious apartment in Hiroo. Then I flashed to myself queuing at Narita airport every second weekend for the flight that would take me to join Michael in the sun for two or three days at a time. I shook my head firmly. “No. Forget OCI; the only reason I kept my ties to that place was to be with you. I don’t want to live away from you, or have you worry about me. I don’t exactly know what I’ll wind up doing here, but jobs have a way of finding me, don’t you think?”
“Trouble has a way of finding you,” Michael had said, and then he kissed me, as if we were the only two people alongside the canal. By the time we’d broken apart, the ring that I’d thought he’d returned had transitioned from his pocket to my finger, and now all I had left to do was convince my fiance that in Hawaii, not only brides wore white, but grooms too.
