Game on, scumbags.

CHAPTER 24.

When I got back home I was in no mood to eat the dinner waiting for me in the oven. I scraped it into the garbage and was rinsing my plate when Steve came into the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" he said.

"Not by a long shot."

He waited while I stuck the plate in the dishwasher and slammed the door shut.

"Got it. You're mad. What's the deal? Beni come up with yet one more way to piss you off?"

I couldn't help it-I started to cry.

"Hey, hey," he said. "The guy's a dipshit. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"No, it's not about Beni," I said. "Well, it's kind of about him, but not totally."

Steve squinted his eyes in confusion and then reached into his pocket for a freshly pressed hankerchief. He's the only guy I've ever met who still carries cotton handkerchiefs. He handed it to me and I wiped my nose.

"Sorry for the waterworks," I said.

"Hey, you've had a lousy week."

"Not as lousy as some people. I gotta sit down," I said. I sat at the kitchen table and Steve took the chair across from me. "Beni says those drug dealers killed Crystal Wilson." I filled Steve in on the few facts I'd gleaned from Beni-that he'd been ordered to dig a hole up in 'Iao Valley; that he'd seen Slam shoot Crystal in the head; and that after the shooting he'd run away.

"Wow. Do you believe him? You've got to call Glen Wong with this."

"Yes, I believe him, and no, I'm not calling Wong."

Steve sat tight, staring me into continuing.

"I believe Beni witnessed the murder," I said. "That's why he's so freaked about those guys coming after him. And the reason I'm not calling Wong is because when I gave him the ransom note he made me promise I'd leave it all up to them."

"I doubt he ever imagined you'd be hanging out with an eyewitness to murder," Steve said. "Things have changed."

"No, you don't understand. He was adamant about keeping this a police matter. He made it quite clear he wanted me to butt out."

"Well, how about I call Glen? I could tell him I overheard something. He knows how much the guys at the bar blab after a couple of martoonies." Steve and Glen Wong traveled in the same social circle-although Steve was way out of the closet while Detective Glen Wong was back in there so far you couldn't have found him with a flashlight.

I didn't want to tell Steve about Beni's assertion that the police were dirty, and maybe even complicit. First, because Beni'd been on the wrong side of the law for so long he wasn't the best judge of character, and second, because Wong was a friend of Steve's and I didn't want to throw Steve into a moral dilemma about whether or not he should tip off Wong.

"I don't know," I said. "These drug dealers are dangerous. If word ever got out you were the snitch, they'd probably come gunning for you. And then I'd have to break in a new roommate, and remember to take fresh flowers up to your grave every week, and-"

"Okay, okay. So, what're you gonna do?"

"I'm going to go up there and find some convincing evidence. The only way Wong's going to take me seriously is if I bring him something he can't sweep under the rug, like he did with the hair and the ransom note. Think about it-I go to him with some tale I heard from a convicted meth dealer? I mean, really, if I were Wong, I probably wouldn't believe any of this either."

"But you do-believe Beni, that is."

"I'm afraid so," I said.

"So how're you going to get this so-called 'convincing evidence'?"

"I'm going up to 'Iao Valley tomorrow morning and find the campsite where Beni dug Crystal's grave."

"You're gonna just tromp right into a drug nest up in the wilds of 'Iao Valley? Wait a sec, let me look up the number for the suicide hotline. I'm sure they'd like to weigh in on this. And besides, there's like a zillion acres of rain forest up there. How'll you even know where to start?"

"I didn't say I was going by myself."

When Farrah opened the door to her apartment the next morning, she informed me that Beni was once again holed up in the bathroom.

"I yelled at him that you were on your way up, but he didn't come out," she said.

I went to the bathroom and rapped on the door. "Get out here, Beni. It's time for our 'Iao Valley field trip."

No response.

"Or, if you'd rather, we could take a short drive over to the Wailuku Police Station and tour that instead."

Again, no sound.

"You know I'm not above breaking down this door."

Not so much as a whimper.

"You have a key for this?" I asked Farrah.

"No, but look at it. It's just a crummy puka lock," she said. "I'll bet I can get it open with a bobby pin." She rummaged around in her nightstand and came up with a pin. She dug around in the lock for about ten seconds and then the bolt clicked as it cleared the latch.

Farrah's bathroom was so tiny it didn't take long to figure out it was unoccupied. In fact, the only evidence that Beni'd been hanging out in there for hours on end was a lingering malodorous tang in the air.

"How'd he get out?" I asked.

"Heck if I know," Farrah said. "That little window opens onto the roof. From there he'd have to climb across the roof and then drop down almost eight feet to the eaves on the first floor. It's another ten feet down to the alley."

"It could be done," I said.

"By your Sifu Doug, maybe. But Beni? The guy had trouble buttering a piece of bread."

"Desperate times require desperate measures," I said.

"So now what?" she said.

I gave her my most soulful stare.

"No. No way. I can't go up there with you. You know how sensitive my psyche is to stuff like they got going on up there."

Farrah wasn't talking about possibly running into the drug dealers, or even being squeamish about finding Crystal Wilson's body. I'd known her long enough to know she was referring to the bloody history of the 'Iao Valley. In 1790, Kamehameha the Great came over from the Big Island of Hawaii to lay claim to Maui. He killed Maui's head chief and forced the Maui warriors deeper and deeper into 'Iao Valley before unleashing fire from a cannon he'd seized from a haole ship. The Maui fighters never had a chance. The bloodshed was so horrendous they named the battle Kapaniwai, or "the damming of the waters" because piles of dead warriors' bodies clogged 'Iao Stream, reducing it to a trickle. The little water that did get through ran blood red. For more than a century no one ventured into the valley. The screams and moans of the ghosts trapped there could be heard for miles around.

"You want me to go up there all by myself?"

"No, I think you should call Hatch, or maybe the cops."

Neither of those options appealed to me.

"I'll tell you what. I'll ask Ono to go with me. You stay here and call me if Beni shows up. As much as I'd like to never deal with that scum sucker again, it'd make it much easier to find Crystal if I had some idea of where to start looking."

"Oh. I almost forgot," Farrah said. "Beni said something last night that sounded kind of feeble at the time, but it might help: he said they went alongside the stream from where it goes through the park. Once they started climbing, he got worried about finding his way back. He began singing "Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on a Wall" in his head so he'd be able to figure out how far he'd gone. He was at thirteen bottles of beer when they finally got to the campsite."

"Really? Mr. Mope-a-dope had the presence of mind to sing eighty-six stanzas of a stupid drinking song while he hiked up the valley? Maybe his whole strung-out act is just that-an act."

"Hard to say. But he sang a little of it for me. And he sang it pretty slow. Like this: 'Ninety-nine...bottles of...beer...on the wall...' Like that. So, hopefully that gives you some kind of idea as to how far up he went."

I gave her a hug and left. On my way down to the car I called Ono.

"Hey, two calls in two days," he said when he picked up the call. "I'm flattered. Howzit shakin'?"

I quickly filled him in on what I'd learned over the last two days about Crystal Wilson's fate. When Ono responded, his voice was two octaves lower.

"Those rotten sons of bitches," he said. "I had a bad feeling about this from the get-go. What can I do?"

"Can you go up to 'Iao Valley with me this morning? I'd rather not go up there alone."

"I'd rather you not go up there at all. This is some serious shit, Pali. I think you should call the cops and let them handle it."

"I plan on calling them, after I verify Beni's story. He's not the most reliable source, and I'm afraid they'll blow me off again if I don't bring them something to prove Crystal's been murdered."

"Don't you think you should at least give them a heads up on what you've heard?"

"No, I don't. I don't want to go into it now, but I don't want to give them any more information until it's absolutely necessary. So, how about it-are you up for a little stroll in the woods with me?"

"Sure, I'll come. But I'll be loaded for bear. Last thing I need is to be ducking through the underbrush trying to dodge some strung-out druggie taking pot shots at us."

"You've got a gun?"

"I didn't say that. And it's best I don't say anything. What you don't know can't be held against you. When are you thinking of going?"

"Right away. I'd like to get up there before too many tourists show up."

"Tell you what. Can you give me a couple of hours? I've got an idea and I'll need that much time to run down the details."

"Okay, let's meet there at eight-thirty. I'll park on the road, just outside the pay parking lot."

"See you there," he said, and signed off.

I drove out Highway 32 through Wailuku to the entrance to 'Iao Valley with my stomach twisted into a tight knot. I dreaded seeing Crystal's fresh grave-or worse. What if they hadn't bothered to bury her after Beni fled the scene? I pride myself on being tough physically, but emotionally I'm a lightweight. Even though I have no qualms about laying an opponent out flat as a stingray in a martial arts fight, I don't deal well with everyday grief and gore. And I'd never seen a dead body outside of a coffin. What if I threw up-or fainted? I'd watched enough cop shows to know rookie homicide detectives usually toss their lunch the first time they process a murder scene.

No use kidding myself. The next few hours weren't gonna be pretty.

CHAPTER 25.

I parked on the side of the road just outside the marked entrance to 'Iao Valley State Park. Only tourists pay the five bucks they demand for parking inside the lot, and besides, it was still early and the road was empty.

I was chiding myself for rushing up here just so I could sit around for an hour waiting for Ono when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said, Powell, Patricia. I didn't know anyone by that name, but I answered anyway.

"Hi Pali. It's me, Trish. You out of jail yet?"

"Hi Trish. No, I never was in jail. It was just a huge misunderstanding."

"How come you never called me back?"

"I did call you. I figured you hadn't returned my call because you were busy with your conference."

There was a long pause. "I called you back," she said. "You owed me a call, I'm sure of it."

I could see how this was playing out, so I let her win.

"My bad. What's on your mind?"

"I'm thinking of coming back over to Maui. You think you can pick me up without getting arrested this time?" She said it with a chuckle, but it sounded more like a taunt.

"When are you coming? Today's Sunday, and I don't usually work on Sundays."

"Well, this is my last day in Hawaii, so it's now or never."

"Trish, I'm so sorry, but I can't possibly meet with you today."

"What? Are you kidding? I came all the way over here just to see you. I even lied to my boss and everything." I heard her suck in a quick breath before she continued. "Oh, I get it. You're blowing me off. You don't want to do my wedding. It's against the law to discriminate against people based on race, color, ethnicity, sexual preference, creed, or religion, you know."

"Where do you think you fall on that list?" I said.