Surfing Detective 02 - Wipeout

Corky.”
    I didn’t know whether to believe anything this woman said anymore. I started up the car.
    “It was the guy who hired Corky—Damon DiCarlo.” She sounded pleading now. “They told me if I didn’t lead them to the ice, the same thing would happen to Corky.”
    “Then why didn’t they take both of you?” I turned off the engine and looked hard at her. “Why leave you behind?”
    “Corky wouldn’t tell them where the ice was. And he convinced them I knew nothing. But they thought
you
did and told me to go with you. Once we found the ice, they said they’d release Corky and pay me ten thousand dollars.”
    “And you believed that?”
    She shrugged. “I had to.”
    “So all along you’ve been cooperating with Sun?” Her seduction routine suddenly made sense—it wasn’t my irresistible attraction, but my usefulness in retrieving her boyfriend.
    “What else could I do?”
    “Think, Maya. You’re not getting anything from Sun, probably not even your boyfriend.”
    “I’ll see Corky again,” she said defiantly.
    “Did you call Sun and tell him where the ice was hidden?”
    “No!”
    “Can the lies, Maya.”
    “Mr. Sun gave me a phone number, but I didn’t call.
Honest.”
    “You mean, you didn’t call since Lana‘i. That’s why you kept disappearing, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, but it was before we found the map. I haven’t talked with Mr. Sun since. I swear. That’s why he kept following us.”
    “If you didn’t tell Sun, he obviously got it out of Corky. And if Corky was alive, he’s not anymore. Your boyfriend double-crossed the organization—look what Sun did to DiCarlo.”
    “I want to go back to Maui,” Maya said abruptly. “Corky will meet me there.”
    “Let me see your cell phone and then I’ll drive you to the airport.”
    She looked befuddled, but reached into her pants pocket and handed me her tiny Motorola. I checked her call log for Sun’s number and dialed.
    On the first ring a heavy voice said “Sun.”
    “Mr. Frank O. Sun?”
    “Yes. Who is speaking?”
    “Kai Cooke.”
    “Ah, Mr. Cooke. You follow still errant ways? You forget investigation over, do you?”
    “Mr. Sun, you’ve got your ice—thanks to me. If I hadn’t found Corky, you’d be nowhere—like you were before I took this case.”
    “Beware of pride, Mr. Cooke. An emotion most unwholesome.”
    “My message is simple . . .” I paused for effect. “Let my client go. Narco-Vice would love to hear all I know about your organization. If you hurt Summer, I’m on the phone. Think about it.” Sun didn’t need to know I had already called Narco-Vice.
    “You forget the husband, Mr. Cooke.”
    “I didn’t forget. I just don’t believe Corky McDahl is alive.” I watched Maya flinch. “Good-bye, Mr. Sun.”
    I hung up.
    “You didn’t have to say that about Corky,” Maya bristled.
    “Not to be cruel, Maya, but if your boyfriend is still walking this earth, I’d be very surprised. You can call Sun and speak to him yourself, if you like.” I handed back her cell phone.
    She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I want to go home to Maui.”

    Minutes later we were cruising by Hale‘iwa, then pineapple fields, coffee groves and Schofield Barracks. Finally we caught the freeway to the airport.
    I dropped Maya at the inter-island terminal. I wasn’t worried about her. She knew how to take care of herself.
    “Sorry to have to ask you this, Kai,” she said stepping from the rental car. “I need airfare.”
    “You need what?” I couldn’t believe my ears.
    “Airfare to Maui.” She shook her copper hair, which in the full sun seemed to burst into flame.
    More than anything I wanted to be rid of this woman. I reached into my wallet. From the wad of hundreds Summer had given me that fateful morning at Denny’s, one was left. One green Ben Franklin—the
only
bill in my wallet. I gave it to her.
    “Bon Voyage.”
    She grinned and then kissed me passionately. I admit I didn’t stop her. With her arms tight around me, her breasts pressed against me, I recalled that jasmine-scented blue bathtub at the Lodge at Koele. When she broke off the kiss, she announced: “You’re warm-hearted and generous. You must be a Leo.” Maya nodded. “Yes, I bet you’re a Leo.”
    Still smiling, with my last hundred in her hand, Maya glided into the terminal. She had lied to me for most of the forty-eight hour blur we were together. And I felt guilty, but not really sorry, that I had given