Читать книгу Holding Out For A Hero - HelenKay Dimon - Страница 8

Two days later, Josh officially retired from the DEA. Sure, he hadn’t actually told anyone that little fact yet, but leaving today’s administrative hearing during the middle of testimony probably sent a message of sorts. He figured someone would get the idea when he failed to show up for the afternoon session.

“You know you’re welcome here anytime.” Derek Travers walked out onto the porch of his one-story fixer-upper wearing swim trunks and holding a beer in each hand.

Josh reached for a bottle without taking his eyes off the ocean in front of him. Settling back into the lounge chair, he surveyed the rocky coastline of Waimanalo. The few newer houses right on the water came with huge price tags, but the rest of this part of Oahu consisted mostly of hardworking locals who had lived there forever. Solid folks without fancy jobs, living tucked away in a quiet piece of paradise.

Most families bought long before the prices bounced past reasonable or they’d be forced to live in shacks. The downside for many was that the area lacked the tourist trade, hotels, and shopping that made Honolulu and the other side of Oahu so popular. That also qualified as Waimanalo’s greatest asset in Josh’s eyes.

The open land and vast quiet reminded him more of Kauai, the Hawaiian island where he lived in a condo a couple miles away from Kane Travers, Derek’s uncle and Josh’s best friend. Kane also happened to be the chief of police on Kauai and a character witness of sorts at Josh’s hearing today. That meant Kane would pop up sooner or later, likely pissed off about the early departure from the rigged hearing.

“So”—Derek took a long drink—“why are you here again?”

“Now that I’m out of that suit my goal is to steal your liquor.”

“As long as you replenish the supply, that’s fine.”

“Understood.”

“My real question had to do with you being here instead of downtown.” Derek put his bare feet up on a white paint-chipped railing in front of him and rocked back on two chair legs.

“You trying to ruin my beer?” Josh took another swig, letting the ice-cold liquid rush down the back of his throat.

“You’re at my house in the middle of the day, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Since you actually live and work elsewhere, and generally wear a suit Monday through Friday, which makes the reality of you being a government agent pretty obvious, by the way—”

“Is this a geography lesson or a fashion critique?”

Derek leaned his head back against the chair. “My only point—”

“You have one?”

“—is that you’re supposed to be somewhere else right now.”

“You’re not making me feel welcome.”

Now there was a lie. Derek was twenty-three and a graduate-school research assistant working at a place called the Oceanic Institute, which was right down the road. Josh didn’t understand the finer points of this kid’s job, but he knew that despite Derek’s outward calm he possessed a genius-level IQ.

They’d known each other for years. Kane raised Derek. Since Josh spent most of his free time with Kane, or did until Kane got married, that meant spending a lot of time getting to know the kid.

Josh glanced over at Derek. Some time over the past nine years the kid had grown up. He stood over six feet. Athletic and part-Hawaiian with dark hair and a deep tan. Women of all ages swarmed around him. With buying the house, Derek now had an impressive place to take those young ladies.

Kane chipped in the money for the place and now they were all renovating it. That meant Josh spent a lot of time there. Oahu and Kauai were a quick commuter flight apart, and he appreciated the relatively safe work of banging nails with a hammer compared with fighting off the drug problem all over Hawaii.

“I have a deal for you,” Derek said.

“The last time I bet you I had to rip down the crap metal garage on the back of your property.” It was almost two months ago and Josh still had the blisters on his palms to prove it.

“Thanks for that.” Derek laughed. “But be warned because this wager could turn out even better for me.”

“Do tell.”

“If you give me the number of that redhead I saw walking around your condo last weekend wearing nothing but a bikini you can move in here for all I care. No questions asked about this afternoon.”

Josh didn’t even remember the woman’s name. “She’s all yours.”

Derek nodded his head. Even delivered one of those know-it-all grins as he picked the label off the bottle. “Hmmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m thinking you’ve got something to say.”

Derek shrugged. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all.”

“What is?” Josh swallowed a groan as he watched Kane’s green pickup pull into the driveway.

“You.”

“Don’t do that,” Josh said.

“Breathe?”

“Psychoanalyze. I get enough of that from the agency-ordered shrink provided post-shooting.”

“How’s that going?”

“Let’s just say I prefer alcohol to therapists. But the head shrinking is over, so I’m not complaining.” Josh drank back his beer, relishing the fact that quitting meant no more conversations with the idiot who wanted to talk about his childhood.

“Kane looks pissed.”

Josh followed Derek’s gaze. Watched Kane slam the door to his truck and stalk toward the house.

“Nothing new there,” Josh mumbled.

Derek made a tsk-tsk sound. “I’ll try again. Is there anything I should know about the hearing?”

“I testified and left.” More like told them to go to hell and walked out early.

Kane took the three stairs to the porch in one step and stood before them in his official police-chief blues. The uniform made him look important. Despite the fancy clothes, Josh still thought of Kane as the guy who beat his ass in basketball on Sunday mornings.

“Nice outfit,” Josh said with a smirk.

“Glad you think so, since I’ve decided to kill you while wearing it.” Kane leaned against the railing facing them. “Seems fitting somehow.”

“I’m not sure that wood is steady enough to hold you,” Derek said.

“It’s fine.” Kane’s attention never wavered from Josh.

With his dark eyes and black hair, Kane could be intimidating as hell. The death frown didn’t help, either. But Josh knew better.

“What are you doing here?” Josh asked.

“Hunting for a self-destructive jackass.” Kane grabbed the empty beer bottle out of Josh’s hand and shook it. “And, look, here you are.”

“Is the hearing over?” Derek asked.

Talk about a relaxation kill. “We’re not discussing that part of my life today.” As far as Josh was concerned they should never talk about it again.

“I am.” This time Kane took Derek’s bottle and drank. “It’s over.”

“My beer?” Derek asked.

“The hearing.”

Derek let his chair drop back down to the deck. “Now what?”

Josh grew less interested in this topic by the second. “Don’t want to hear the play-by-play.”

Derek smiled. “Then stop listening.”

“Might try a little thinking while you’re at it,” Kane added.

If they wanted to work off some extra energy, Josh would oblige. “You feel like going headfirst into the ocean, warrior boy? It will get your pretty uniform all wet.”

Kane snorted and walked past them into the house.

Derek waited until Kane disappeared to lean over and whisper. “He hates it when you call him that.”

“Why do you think I do it?” Josh figured out early in the friendship “Kane” meant warrior in Hawaiian and had tortured his friend with the knowledge ever since.

“Kane’s going to shoot you,” Derek said.

“No, he won’t.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” On the way back out to the porch, beer in hand, Kane smacked Josh in the back of the head with the end of the bottle.

“Hey!” Josh rubbed the spot.

“See.” Kane re-took his position against the railing. “I’m thinking you need something to wake your ass up. Maybe a bullet will do it.”

“You were less uptight before you got married,” Josh said.

“No, he wasn’t.” Derek laughed until he glanced at Kane’s serious expression. “What? You weren’t.”

Kane shook off the unrelated topic. “The panel took your case under advisement pending additional testimony. Seems they had some trouble locating you this afternoon and got a little panicky.”

“Why not just make a decision now?” Derek asked before sliding a look in Josh’s direction. “No offense, man.”

Josh nodded in understanding. “None taken.”

“This is pretty high-profile. They’re trying not to blow it,” Kane explained.

Josh knew what that meant. It would be a few days of talking with lawyers and going over options before the government bureaucrats dropped the courthouse on his head and took his job away. Fine. He considered himself terminated anyway.

And he knew the truth behind the hearing and what really happened to put him there. His boss had set up a bad mission and illegally used a local helicopter pilot as a lure for some drug runners. The idea was to shut down a huge meth supplier who worked back and forth between Nevada and Hawaii. Would have worked except that the helicopter went down, the pilot died, and the guy’s sister would not stop investigating the incident until she found the truth.

The disaster of a job blew up, leaving Josh to shoot the sister in order to free her from the bad guys. During the resulting mandatory check-in from internal affairs, Josh told the truth about the actions of his boss, Brad Nohea. Brad fought back by shifting the blame and rigging the paperwork to support his position.

All that ass-covering by the department convinced Josh he was done rescuing other people for a living. The grief just wasn’t worth the effort. He could handle paperwork. The constant lying and questions about his character were different.

Kane hesitated a second. Someone who didn’t know him wouldn’t notice. Josh could tell his friend was waiting to drop a bombshell. “You’re blocking my view, so just say whatever you have to say and then move.”

Kane didn’t even bother to deny it. “Deana Armstrong was there this afternoon.”

The beer sloshed around in Josh’s empty stomach. “What?”

“She came looking for you.”

Josh swore. “That woman just doesn’t give up.”

“Old girlfriend?” Derek asked.

The thought killed off the rest of Josh’s beer buzz. “Hell, no.”

Kane shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She’s Ryan Armstrong’s aunt.”

Derek dropped his beer but caught it before it hit the deck. “The kid from the huge murder trial?”

Josh felt like whipping his bottle into the ocean. Now Deana was ruining his good mood without even being near him. “She thinks Ryan isn’t guilty.”

Kane shook his head. “Now there’s a surprise.”

Josh understood the skepticism. He tried to remember a time when he arrested someone who didn’t claim innocence. Even with drugs in hand they’d be screaming about a frame-up.

Ryan had been the same way two years earlier when he had gotten in trouble. Drugs that time. He had insisted he was in the wrong place when a sting went down and nothing more. His family believed him until the drug tests came back positive. The family used their connections and wealth to get Ryan out of the legal system and into a rehab program. They managed to keep Ryan’s name out of the paper and make sure he never took an ounce of responsibility for his actions.

Eight months later the kid’s parents were dead.

Josh decided to tell Kane about Deana’s plans. “She wants me to get Ryan out of jail.”

This time Derek set his bottle down on the porch nice and slow. “Didn’t you arrest the kid a few years ago as part of some private school drug ring?”

“Yeah.”

Derek glanced at Kane and then back to Josh before trying again. “And didn’t you testify against him at his recent murder trial?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me skip to the end of this discussion,” Kane said. “Why does Deana think you’re the guy for this job?”

To Josh the real question was why they were still talking about Deana Armstrong and her ridiculous proposal. “With my connections she believes I’m the one who can fix this.”

Kane whistled. “Guess she hasn’t heard you’re out of the hero business.”

“Exactly.” Josh snapped his fingers a few times, then pointed at Kane. “About time someone believed me.”

“I don’t. I’m just repeating the crap you told me this morning.” Kane held out a small card. “But I’ll let you be the one to tell Ms. Armstrong all about your new career plans.”

Josh stared at the paper but did not pick it up. “What the hell is this?”

Kane’s face lit up with amusement. “A social card.”

“A what? Let me see.” Derek grabbed it. Studied it. Flipped it over. “It has her name and phone number and that’s it.”

“A calling card. Unbelievable.” But it wasn’t. If there was something out there that reeked of money, Josh knew Deana would own it.

“She’s expecting you tomorrow.” Kane mumbled that important piece of information between long swallows of beer.

Josh heard him just fine. “What the hell are you talking about now?”

“Since you quit your job—yeah, I know about that, you dumbass—I figured you’d need something to do.”

“You left the DEA?” Derek asked.

Josh talked over both of them. “I’m not investigating this kid’s case.”

Kane shrugged. “Don’t tell me. Tell her.”

“I did.”

“Try again.”