Black Jasmine (2012) (20 page)

Lei sat upright, a jolt of adrenaline hitting her like a slap. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” She glanced over at his narrowed blue eyes.

He was fishing. He knew she’d left the house, probably heard it from the uniform watching them—but he couldn’t know where she’d gone. Still, she hated lying to him.

She took a breath. Said it. “I went to Oahu and saw Kwon.”

“What the hell!” He stood, looming over her, hands on hips. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I told you I was going to see him. You’ll be happy to know I left him alive, just gave him a little love tap upside the head with my gun.” Her stomach roiled at the memory—there was much she couldn’t put into words about seeing Kwon again.

“Thank God. Jesus. And I mean that like I’m praying.”

Lei got up and took the recently restocked emergency vodka bottle out of the freezer, splashed a portion into two glasses, handed Stevens one. “Medicinal purposes.” She tipped her head back and tossed the shot, burning and painful, down her throat. “I’m not losing one more day of my life over him.”

“I should have known you’d find a way to go over there. It’s so dangerous, with whoever has a hit out on us still out there, and you. . .” Stevens drank the shot, set the glass down on the coffee table with a thump. He pushed his hands through his hair, leaving tufts of unruly distress. “I want to put you over my knee, dammit.”

“You can try.”

“I’m going to. It’s a promise, when we’re not sharing close quarters with a traumatized sex slave.”

“Don’t be mad. I needed to see him, it’s over, and I’m fine. Unfortunately, he’s fine too, but I’ll let someone else deal with him. My father said these guys tend not to live long, either in the joint or once they get out.”

“Sounds like a threat. Don’t let Wayne do anything stupid either—you both have a lot to lose.”

“Don’t worry about that—my dad’s favorite saying is from the Bible—‛Do not take revenge. I will repay, says the Lord.’”

“What did Kwon say to you?”

“Begged me to kill him, actually. Said he deserved it.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Kwon you told me about.” Stevens was pacing.

“Said he was rehabilitated, but that he still deserved it. I was never going to kill him, just scare him straight—but the gun got pretty wobbly there for a minute.” The bomb of warmth from the drink loosened the tightness of her fingers around the glass, but she shuddered, remembering.

“Jesus, Lei.” He ran his hands through his hair again. “That’s the last thing we’d need—you getting investigated for murder.”

“You’re freaking out for no reason. I had to see him, I did, and now it’s done.”

“Don’t ever fucking ask me to cover for you.”

“You don’t need to say that to me. I know what the law means to you—I just don’t think it always works like it should. Kwon out in five years because of crowding is one of those times. But like I keep telling you, nothing happened.”

He came to a stop by the sink, staring out into the darkness. Turned to face her, his long, muscled arms braced wide on the edge of the counter. “Don’t do this shit to me, Lei. You’re killing me.”

She walked toward him, ran her hands up those arms, pulled his head down to her, whispered into his ear. “I’m sorry. That’s the last thing I want to do. I love you.”

He pulled her into his arms. It wasn’t gentle, and her bruises protested. She ignored them.

“You’re a piece of work, Lei,” he whispered, as he took all she offered and more, drawing her up against himself. She gave a little hop, ignoring a twinge from her ribs, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He boosted her up against his hard crotch, holding her ass as he walked them down the hall.

“I told you. I warned you,” she said. “I don’t want to break your heart.”

“You already did.”

Then there were no more words.

Chapter 31

Lei woke to the combined buzzing and toning of both of their new cell phones. Lei got hold of hers first. Lieutenant Omura’s voice was clipped with suppressed excitement.

“Coast guard turned up a hidden room on the
Rainbow Duchess
in Kahului Harbor. Get down there and represent ASAP. Wear a wig and a vest.”

“On it.” Lei hauled on her discarded jeans from the night before as she closed the phone. So much for Marcella’s order to stay home. Stevens was doing the same on the other side of the bed and looked over at her. “What’re you doing?”

“Lieutenant called me in. You’ll just have to make sure I don’t get shot.”

“So much for laying low.”

“Thank God. I would hate to miss this.” Lei loaded her Glock into the new holster and clipped a shiny new badge onto a belt she still hadn’t removed a price tag from. She hauled on the red wig from the day before, covering it with an MPD ball cap.

Anchara stuck her head out of her bedroom as they hurried down the hall.

“Go back to sleep,” Lei said. “Police business. An officer is still watching the house.”

The girl nodded and withdrew.

They trotted down to the Bronco, and Stevens fired it up. Lei made sure the gate was locked and shot a salute to the uniform watching the house. They pulled out in full lights-and-sirens glory, and Lei Velcroed herself into an extra vest.

White-knuckled minutes later, they pulled up at the harbor. The cruise ship loomed in the early dawn, lights twinkling from stem to stern, a floating city. Marcella and Rogers were conferring on the dock with several uniformed coast guard officers and the captain of the ship. The captain, resplendent in gold-braided white, gestured wildly as the two of them arrived at a run.

“I had no knowledge of this! I’m telling you, I never would have permitted such a travesty on my ship!”

Marcella, hair tumbled down her back and shirt buttoned askew under a bulletproof FBI vest, spotted them. “Lei, what are you doing here?”

“Omura sent me.”

Stevens finished securing his vest. “We couldn’t keep her back anyway.”

Marcella rolled her eyes and jerked her head toward the gangplank. “Let’s go take a look.” She led Stevens and Lei up the steep ramp onto the ship and down halls dimly lit, inner doors closed as passengers slept on in blissful ignorance.

Lei poked her from behind. “Do something about your hair.”

“You’re one to talk.” But Marcella bundled the fall of curls into a knot as they strode down the hall. “Crack-of-dawn raid, and I had trouble sleeping last night.”

Instead of down into the bowels of the ship as Lei had expected, they entered the grand foyer, ascending a curving staircase past glowing blown-glass Chihuly chandeliers to a second story. Marcella led them down a wide hallway to a polished wood door crowned by a beveled-glass insert. “There’s a service elevator at the end of the hall they must have used to bring the girls on and off the ship.”

Two uniformed coast guard officers with rifles stood aside as she opened the door.

Lei stepped inside and drew her breath in sharply. The stateroom was bare except for a double row of five bunk beds. A cluster of young women dressed in short white satin robes huddled in a corner.

Against one wall was a handsome carved armoire. Without a word, Marcella led the way to the armoire and threw it open. A big safe squatted inside, its matte black surface seeming to absorb all the light in the room.

“Anybody able to get this open?” The safe looked serious to Lei.

“Not so far.”

“Someone on the way?”

“Yes. Homeland Security’s got a safecracker deployed.”

“So what was the MO here?”

“Hide in plain sight,” said Marcella. “A lot of people had to be involved to keep this room secret. Now that you’re here, the Maui Police Department can take the women into custody for interviews.”

Stevens was already working his cell phone, getting transport arranged.

“We’re taking the captain in for interviewing, but he’s adamant he didn’t know about the smuggling,” Marcella said. “We’ve got the ship on lockdown; nobody leaves until we interview all the crew.”

“Sounds like you have things under control,” said a new voice. Lei turned to see Lieutenant Omura, looking sharp even at five a.m., enter with Pono and Jed Larson from Kahului Station. “Nice work.”

“Coast guard found the room and secured the scene before they called us,” Marcella said. “We’re just coordinating agencies and looking for connections to the House.”

Lei approached the group of women huddled in the corner. “Anyone here speak English?”

In ports on all the Hawaiian Islands, Duchess cruise ships were boarded by coast guard troops and searched stem to stern as the sun broke over the shoulder of Haleakala on Maui. Marcella, Rogers, the coast guard captain, and several Homeland Security agents continued interviewing the crew on board. Lei stood by the Bronco as Pono, Larson, and a couple of uniforms helped escort the women from the stateroom onto a transport bus going to Kahului Station. An Immigration and Naturalization official took down each name as they climbed onto the bus.

Lei’s stomach clenched at the sight.

Many were in tears, dreams of a glamorous cruise ship job having ended in sex slavery, with deportation imminent. At least the familiarity of their home countries would be returned to them even if their innocence was lost.

Her eyes wandered down the dock—and she spotted movement in the shadows of the bow of the ship. A giant chain anchored the cruise liner to the rubber-padded dock, and a shadow moved precariously down it.

Someone was escaping.

Chapter 32

“Stop! Police!” Lei bellowed. A man dropped off the giant anchor chain and glanced back. Ignoring lingering tightness from her injuries, Lei pushed off from the Bronco and sprinted down the dock, dodging vehicles, boxes, and piles of rope. The man broke into a run, tearing down the dock.

“Stop! Police!” This was that moment she’d trained for, bruises or not. She poured on more speed and cleared a low stanchion like a hurdler, using the extra momentum to hit the fleeing man in the back with an extended elbow. He flew forward and provided with her a nice landing pad. She straddled him, hauling his arms behind his back to cuff them.

He was still trying to drag in some air from having the breath knocked out of him as she sat back on her haunches. Adrenaline had obliterated the voice of her bruises, but they threatened a dull roar in the future from all of this activity. Pono jogged up from where he’d been helping load the women onto the bus.

“Who’s this?”

“Dunno, but he was sneaking off the ship.”

A compact square of a man, dressed in nondescript sweats and running shoes, he had the fresh-scrubbed look of a midlevel executive. His lips folded into a hard line now that he’d got some oxygen back in his lungs.

Larson had joined them, and he hauled the man up by an armpit. “C’mon down to the station, buddy, and tell us why you were taking the rat’s way off the ship.”

Lei followed them and dug her cell phone out of her pocket, where it was none the worse for wear. She pushed down the speed-dial button for Stevens.

“Where are you?” His voice was brusque.

“I called to ask you the same thing. I caught someone getting off the ship, and I want to interview him. Can you get another ride down to the station?”

“Never mind that. I’m on my way.”

Lei shut the phone and put it back.

Larson hauled her prisoner toward the transport bus, and she stopped him with a hand. “Put a guard on the anchor chain, and I’ll take him in.”

She led the man to the Bronco and put him in the backseat, then got in front. Stevens appeared at a run and jumped into the passenger side. Larson stood by the transport bus, frowning as they pulled away.

Lei decided to let Marcella know after she’d had a crack at the guy—after all, finders keepers.

* * *

My latest burner rings. It’s an unknown number. Maybe it’s the House. My heart picks up speed.

“Hello?”

“Didn’t think you’d pick up.” My MPD mole. Today his voice has got a touch of steel. Guy’s getting an attitude.

“Didn’t think I’d hear from you again.” I match the ice in his voice.

“Did you send out that dirt to my wife? ’Cause if you did, I’m hanging up and you won’t get this tip.”

I sit up straighter in my chair at the gallery office. It’s early to be behind my desk, but I get some of my best work done before the doors open and the phone begins ringing.

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Good. For you. Because I thought I’d let you know busts are going down on all the Duchess cruise ships. We’ve got the women and whatever’s in the safe on the ship in Kahului Harbor.”

My heart begins doing heavy pounding thuds. I touch my throat, and it helps keep my voice steady when I speak. “So what? There’s no connection to me.”

“That’s not all. They found the Thai girl. Lei Texeira has her.”

Lei Texeira. A thorn in my side, if there ever was one.

“Where do they have her?”

“Safe house. My job is done. Send the usual to my account, but this is my last job for you—and, I suspect, your last job, too.”

The line went dead.

Screw him. I’m not paying him one more dime, and for good measure, I take the envelope with the photos in it, preaddressed and stamped, out of a locked drawer and put it in my Out box. My secretary will post it when she comes in. That parting gesture helps with the sting of what I have to do next.

I take a deep breath, let it out on a whoosh, and activate the encryption program that I embedded months ago on the gallery’s computers, all networked together. I can retrieve the information remotely, but it will take months for anyone else to do so. The computer sighs into permanent silence as I spring up and hurry to the elevator.

I have to warn the House. I make the call on my burner as I ride up to my penthouse for the last time.

“Yeah?”

“House, it’s me. We’re blown.”