Unforgettable (19 page)

* * * * *

C
ody stood in the parking lot outside his office waiting for the FBI agent. Scott
Helmer had flown in last night—
incognito—and had insisted that they meet outside the building. It was total bullshit, Cody thought, but he went along with it. After all, the Feebies had charisma. It would make a good story to tell the kids in years to come.

“Chief Braxton?”

He turned and found a young punk with dark hair that was close cropped over his ears yet stood straight up across the top of his scalp. He sported a skull and crossbones earring and had a three day beard like a rock star high on a controlled substance.

Cody was about to read him his rights when the punk pulled a Feebie ID out of his wallet. FBI. Christ! Where were his tax dollars going?

“Let’s walk this way,” the kid said. “I’m Scott Helmer, field agent with the bureau. This is about the unidentified white female whose exhumed remains you sent to our facility in Quantico. We’ve ID
-
ed her.”

“Really?” Cody couldn’t help being impressed. It had only been a few days. His months of correspondence to police departments nationwide had yielded zilch. “Who is she?”

Helmer stopped under the twin palms guarding the lot, casting slender shadows across the pavement. Heat was rapidly building, even though the morning had hardly begun. “Thi
s is confidential—understood?”

It pissed him off to listen to an arrogant kid, but he kept thinking about his brother and how he’d had his arm around Lucky when the shark swam to freedom. Cody would do anything to end this case—now. And get rid of Lucky before it was too late. He didn’t want Greg to be hurt again.

“Right. Not one word to anyone.”

“Good,” Helmer replied. “We’re meeting out here until I can sweep your office for bugs—”

“Bugs? Are you kidding?”

Something lethal in Helmer’s eyes told him that here was a young but world-weary bastard who just might have seen more of life’s dark side than Cody could ever imagine.

“
This is serious business. The woman you found was Thelma Overholt, a special investigator for American Express. She was assigned to the unit investigating credit card fraud. Counterfeit cards sting companies for millions each year, but one group’s gotten incredibly sophisticated.

“They’re able to access the computer records of banks, issue credit cards—even the hard-to-reproduce ones with holograms and photographs of the cardholder. They hit the bank for millions, yet know when they’ve been discovered and get out. They operate with kick-ass speed, firing phony credit cards around the world overnight. No one’s been able to figure out how they’re doing it.”

Cody had heard of the scam. It was a big problem on the mainland but a minor one in Hawaii. “Is there trouble here?” Helmer’s eyes scanned the lot, stopping for a second on each vehicle, missing nothing. A chill of apprehension waltzed up Cody’s spine. The kid was a dozen years younger, sure, but a seasoned pro.

“There hasn’t been any problem here. That’s why Thelma wasn’t identified. She disappeared halfway across the world— in Singapore. That’s the golden Mecca of counterfeiting. Used to be jewelry and watches; now it’s credit cards and computer chips.”

“What was she doing hiking here?”

“
Her family said Thelma never hiked. She disappeared without a trace from Singapore. No record of an airline ticket. Her passport was never scanned, showing she left Singapore.”

“So? Someone screwed up.”

“No way. Remember that kid who got paddled for graffiti? The Singapore government wouldn’t back down. They’re like real tight asses with crack security. If her passport wasn’t scanned, how’d she get out of the country?”

“Beats me,” Cody said, though personally he thought someone could have been bribed. “Was the death accidental?”

As ugly as it was, some small part of Cody wanted to hear the worst. Then he could tie Lucky to a murder. It might be the only way to break the hold she had on his brother.

“Forensics in Quantico will get back to us on the cause of death, but I’m betting it’s a homicide. I think that Jane Doe with the missing shoe is the key.”

Cody hesitated, measuring Helmer for a moment.
“
I have a theory.”

He leveled his watchful eyes on Cody. “Shoot.”

“Lucky—that’s what we’re calling the Jane Doe—was found on the back side of the island during the worst storm to hit here, short of a hurricane, in decades. I think she was up in one of those shacks that are hidden away in the jungle. She had a fight with her boyfriend, got dressed in a helluva hurry, and didn’t notice she had on the wrong shoe. She headed out in the storm and accidentally drove off a cliff.”

“It’s a possibility,” the punk conceded.

“I’m guessing that this boyfriend belongs to the
hui.
You’ve heard of the Hawaiian mafia?” Cody asked, and Helmer nodded. “They’re somehow part of this counterfeiting ring.”

Helmer nodded, slowly warming to the idea. “They could have kidnapped the investigator and held her at the remote location you’re talking about, trying to make her tell them her sources or something. They killed her and dumped her body in the brush.”

Cody considered this for a second. “It’s quite a climb from the closest road to the point where she was found. It would have taken two of them to carry her.”

“The area’s full of hikers, right?” Helmer asked, and Cody nodded. “Then they had her wrapped in a tarp or something. And they had to get rid of the body quickly before someone happened along and caught them.”

“The shoe must have been lost back at their hideout,” Cody
said, on a roll now. “Someone tossed it in the closet, thinking it was Lucky’s.”

Helmer looked skeptical, the sunlight flashing off his skull and crossbones earring. “That hiker, Thelma Overholt, died more than a year ago. Do yo
u really think the shoe sat in—
what’s her name?—Lucky’s closet all that time without her noticing it and throwing it out or something?”

“Sure. Some of those places back in the jungle barely have running water. They use cisterns and septic tanks. It’s pretty primitive. People don’t live there year-round except for a few artists and writers.”

“
Probably smugglers who’ re stealing exotic parrots and dopers running Maui Wowie are using those hideouts, right?”

“Exactly. They don’t keep much in those shacks. A couple of cha
nges of clothes, canned food…
that’s about it. Lucky didn’t pay any attention to that shoe until the night she mistakenly put it on.”

“You’re probably right,” the punk grudgingly admitted.

Cody banked a smile, positive he’d figured out how Lucky had come to be wearing a shoe that belonged to a woman who’d died a year earlier. “I say Lucky’s involved with someone in the
hui.
That’s why he hasn’t come forward to identify her. He’d have to explain what he was doing in the jungle.”

“Could be,” Helmer conceded. “One of the
hui
's leaders is Tony Traylor.”

“I knew it!” Cody slapped his head with the heel of his hand. “Traylor’s been way, way too interested in this case. How much do you want to bet Lucky is his girlfriend?”

18

“
W
ell, you got your wish.”

The heavy dose of sarcasm in Rachel’s voice echoed across the pool, where several volunteers were tending the orphaned seal pups. Everyone looked at Greg’s research partner. Lucky glanced at Nomo, who had just driven her back from her session with Dr. Summerville. Until this moment she’d felt happier, understanding more about what was wrong with her, than she had since the accident.

“1475 has been spotted,” Rachel announced.

Lucky couldn’t help smiling, even though Rachel was clearly angry with her. “Rudy’s still alive? That’s fabulous!”

Rachel’s stare drilled into Lucky and she stiffened, aware yet again of how much the woman disliked her. “He chewed through the wire netting at Takanaga’s and ate several
opaka-
paka.”

“
Opakapaka
—fish,” Nomo explained, moving closer to Lucky. “Takanaga runs a fish farm.”

Farm? Lucky saw fields of co
rn
or sugar cane. She’d have
to ask Nomo later, “Good for Rudy. He must be feeling better. He’s hunting again. We couldn’t get him to eat anything.”

“You’re missing the point,” Rachel said, her voice as contemptuous as her expression. “The institute depends on the goodwill of these farmers. They supply us with surplus fish at no cost. They’re furious because we freed a worthless shark—
”

“Rudy was only doing what his instincts told him,” interrupted Lucky. “And sharks aren’t worthless. They have superior immune systems. They don’t get cancer. Scientists are studying them, hoping to find a cure for AIDS. I saw it on the Internet.”

Rachel pivoted and walked away, leaving Lucky staring at the back of her khaki blouse. The woman had been so hostile after Rudy had been freed that Lucky rarely ventured upstairs to the office when Rachel was around.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” She turned to Nomo, saddened by his concerned expression. He was a good friend who always tried to help and never made her feel foolish when she didn’t know something.

Nomo led her to a side entrance, where trucks were offloading the day’s supply of fresh fish. “You didn’t cause the trouble. It was already here. Rachel just didn’t want to see it.”

“See what?”

Nomo regarded her solemnly, which was unusual because he smiled most of the time.
“
Greg is never going to love Rachel. She’s been patiently waiting since Jessica’s death. Rachel came back to the institute just as you freed Rudy. I saw her standing there, watching you and Greg.”

“There wasn’t anything to see,” Lucky said, but she didn’t meet Nomo’s steady gaze. Something had happened with Greg that day, yet she wasn’t certain just what i
t was. Since then Greg had been
gentler with her, more understanding. And he hadn’t once mentioned sex or done anything to press her.

“Get outta here. Do you really believe no
thing happened?” Nomo asked. “
Or are you just saying it because you’re uncomfortable discussing this? I can’t help you if you don’t level with me.”

No wonder Nomo was so popular with the volunteers. The older man always seemed to understand each person’s problems. “Greg is so special to me
…
I can’t begin to tell you how special. I guess people must assume that we’re”—Lucky paused, searching for the right word—“having an affair because I’m living with him, but we’re not.”

If Nomo was surprised by this revelation, he didn’t show it, waiting, without judging, for her to continue.

“I don’t want to be a cheap hooker, and I don’t want to be Pele’s ghost. I want to be someone worthy of Greg’s respect,” she confessed. “Someone like Rachel Convey. Then Greg will—”

“Will what?”

“Care about
me… t
ruly care about me.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word
love,
but Lucky suspected Nomo knew exactly what she was thinking.

“He cares,” Nomo said quietly. “Normally, he’s up in his office this time of year, compiling research on the whales, getting ready for them to return in the winter. He leaves the seals to the volunteers, but since you’ve come, he’s down here all the time.” Nomo offered her his trademark smile, all teeth in a broad, happy face. “And he’s not checking on the seals
.
”

“I’d like to believe I’m special to him,” Lucky admitted, thinking Greg’s sense of duty and their physical attraction accounted for any change in his usual behavior.

“You’re special,” Nomo assured her. “You don’t believe it, that’s all.
Lokahi
—spirit. You need to get in touch with your inner spirit again
. It’ll take time, that’s all.
”

They were walking toward the seal nursery now. A newborn pup had been brought in by a dive boat that morning, and they were going to check on it.

“
What was Greg
like when you first met him?”
Lucky asked, remembering being told that Nomo had already been at the
institute for a number of years when Greg had first arrived there.

“Greg had a huge chip on his shoulder back then. And no wonder. His aunt was
lolo
—crazy. She never should have been given custody of those boys. Sis Braxton was a compulsive gambler. Nothing else was important in her life. If those boys opened their mouths, she beat the tar out of them.”

“Didn’t anyone do anything?”

“We tried to get the boys away from her, but Sis wouldn’t give them up.” Nomo threw up his hands. “Why? Nobody knew. She never even pretended to want them. She was
lolo,
that’s all.”

“But they turned out fine. They’re both—”

“Damaged,” Nomo interjected. “Don’t think they’re not. When people don’t get the love they need as children, they’re screwed up as adults, unable to love or accept love. Cody’s done better because Sarah has helped him. Greg wasn’t so wise in choosing Jessica.”

“What was wrong with her?” Lucky asked, remembering Sarah calling the woman a bitch.

Nomo shrugged. “Chronic depression they said, but she seemed like a crazy-maker to me. She was always upset about something. Little things were a big crisis. And she was jealous of anything that took Greg away from her, like the Marine Research Institute or Search and Rescue. Even his brother was a threat.”

What was wrong with sharing Greg? Lucky wondered. She would be thrilled to be part of Sarah’s family and have relatives who cared about her. Sharing was part of being a family.

Nomo stopped and studied her for a minute, his expression dead serious. “Greg needs you, Lucky. You can make all the difference in his life.”

Before Lucky could reply, Greg came racing across the pool area, responding to someone shouting from the nursery. She followed them inside and saw a tiny seal, not more
than twenty-
four hours old, being cradled in a volunteer’s arms.

“I can’t get her to suck.” The
girl brought a baby bottle to
the seal’s lips, but it turned away. “I’ve been trying my whole shift, but she refuses to touch the bottle.”

“She’s in pretty bad shape,” Gr
eg said. “If she doesn’t eat,
she’ll die.”

“
Let me hold her,
”
Lucky offered, and the girl gladly handed her the baby seal.

The pup was the size of a f
ootball and couldn’t weigh much
more. Lucky had never felt anything so soft. Its fur was the color of warm sand, and felt like the nap of fine velvet. The little face gazing up at her had a black button nose and a spray of whiskers like a kitten.

The pup’s eyes made Lucky’s heart turn over in response. Wide. Unblinking. The color of melted chocolate. Those soulful eyes assessed her, and a shudder
passed through the tiny body.
Obviously, the seal was terrified
of yet another person touching
her. A terrifying procession of humans with different faces and different smells must have passe
d her around since her mother
had disappeared. The little creature mewled, a plaintive, broken-hearted sound, as if to say, “You’re not my mommy.”

“Why don’t you give her a name?” Greg asked.

“Abigail,” Lucky responded wi
thout
hesitation, smiling down at the pup, cuddling it but at a loss as to how to help. “It’s a big name for such a little mite of a thing, but you’ll grow into it.”

“Not if she doesn’t eat.”

“What happened to Abbie’s mother?”

Greg frowned, his eyes drawn level beneath dark brows.
“
A shark ate her. Seals are weak after giving birth and become easy prey for sharks. Usually shar
ks get the pups, too, but this
t
ime a dive boat picked up Abbie.
”

A suffocating sensation tightened Lucky’s throat as she remembered Rudy’s razor-sharp teeth. Still, she couldn’t imagine her Rudy ripping into a seal. “It wasn’t Rudy, little one. It was a
bad
shark.”

Greg put his hand on Lucky’s shoulder, shaking his head.
“It’s Mother Nature at work. Sharks are the ocean’s predators. Monk seals like Abbie are endangered, and their biggest enemy is the shark. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Lucky gazed down at the little face, the woeful eyes seeming to plead for its mother. But Abbie’s mother was dead, and nothing Lucky could do would bring back this baby’s mother. With the pad of her thumb, she caressed Abbie’s pink belly, circling the stub of the still-soft umbilical cord. The pup let out an exhausted little rush of air that sounded like a sigh, and its lids drooped.

Lucky whispered to Greg, “Maybe she doesn’t like the rubber nipple on this bottle.”

“We’ve already tried giving her formula on a sugarcane stick,” Nomo called from across the room.

“What about my finger?” Lucky wiggled her pinkie at him.

“Anything’s worth a try,” Greg said, but he didn’t sound encouraged.

Lucky sat at the table with Abbie in her arms while Greg poured the contents of the bottle into a pan. The liquid was warm when Lucky dipped her finger into it. Gently, she touched it to the pup’s mouth. Abbie turned her head away, as if to say, “Forget it. You are not my mommy.”

“If you don’t suck, you’re not going to grow into a seal big enough to play with Harpo.”

Greg gazed at her as if she’d lost her last marble, then he chuckled. They both laughed, imagining Harpo, a mammoth male, with the tiny creature in Lucky’s arms. The unexpected laughter caused Abbie to look around, craning her little neck and opening her mouth. Lucky edged her finger inside.

Abbie gazed up at her with a startled expression. Her little pink petal of a tongue gave a quick, tentative brush. Once. Twice. Lucky was positive she’d never
felt anything so soft. So heart-
wrenchingly sweet.

“That’s my girl. Now try sucking.”

She dipped her finger in the formula again and again. A few minutes later, Abbie began to suck and Lucky brought her up
c
loser, cuddling her, giving her warmth. And wishing with all her heart she could bring back Abbie’s mother.

“Some people have a natural talent for relating to animals, don’t they, Greg?” said Nomo with a broad grin.

Lucky ventured a look into Greg’s deep blue eyes, thoroughly pleased with herself.

Greg’s expression seemed to mingle pride and tenderness as he put his hand on her arm and gently squeezed. “You’re a natural, all right. Some people just have the gift.”

She smiled at him, blissfully happy. This was how she
wanted to feel about herself…
how she wanted Greg to feel about her. Special. “I like working with animals.” Lucky wanted to say how much she enjoyed working with him, but she didn’t
w
ant to break the spell.

Greg leaned closer, his hand still on her arm. “We’re going out to the rookery next week
. If you want to come, you can
see where Abbie was bo
rn
.”

“I’d love to come.” I love being with you, being a part of your life, she silently added.

“There you are!” Rachel was standing at the nursery door.
“Greg, I need to talk to you.”

The tone of Rachel’s voice could have turned the sand to tundra. And the look on her face as she stared at Lucky held nothing but contempt. Greg casually rose, seemingly not bothered by the woman’s tone. He left the nursery without another word, and Nomo rolled his eyeballs heavenward.

It took Lucky over two hours to convince the stubborn little Abigail that a bottle was as good as her pinkie, b
ut finally the pup took the bottl
e. She sucked it dry, then bleated, a whiny sound that caused Nomo to laugh and to assure Lucky that one day the noise would be a full-throated seal’s bark.

For the second time since the accident, Lucky experienced
a
sense of elation she knew was pride. She’d been thrilled when she’d seen Rudy swim away, but somehow this was even more exciting. There was something abou
t a baby, a creature so small
and helpless, that tugged at her heart.