Free The Green Room by Deborah Turrell Atkinson Page A

all at once, or you’re going to have to catch mice.”
    Fang kept looking at her, and Storm reached down and stroked her. “If I spend the night, I’ll call Robbie to come over and play with you.” The cat made a satisfied murrrp noise, and rubbed against Storm’s legs.
    ***
    Storm’s phone rang as she was negotiating a sharp curve through Kahulu‛u. She downshifted the Beetle, followed the car in front of her around the heavily shaded bend in the road, shifted into third, and picked up her phone.
    â€œStorm,” Ben’s voice said. “Can you talk?”
    â€œBriefly, I’m driving.”
    â€œOkay. It’s probably not a big deal, but I thought I’d tell you that your cousin didn’t come home Monday night after surfing. His girlfriend is a friend of mine. She asked me Tuesday morning if I’d seen him. They were supposed to get together.”
    â€œShe called you?”
    â€œNo, I went out to Chun’s Reef for dawn patrol. She was there with a couple of friends.”
    â€œWhat about last night?”
    â€œI don’t know. I went to Chun’s again this morning, but didn’t see her. I heard she was at Outside Himalayas, though. That was some big surf,” he added, “and people are talking about a new tow-in contest.”
    â€œDoesn’t sound like she’s too upset. What do you think?”
    â€œShe was probably looking for him. She’s not the type to let on she’s worried.” Ben paused. “Um, he kind of has a reputation.”
    Surprise, surprise, Storm thought.
    â€œBut he’s been seeing Sunny for a couple months now. I mean, without messing around. That’s why I thought I’d see if you knew anything.” Ben paused. “People talk and she may have heard, but I didn’t want to bring it up.”
    â€œYou probably know more about his friends than I do,” Storm said. “Look, I’m on my way out to Haleiwa to see your mom, so I’ll give you a call this afternoon.”
    Storm ended the call and gripped the steering wheel. Ben had seemed more concerned that Nahoa’s girlfriend would find out Nahoa was cheating than he was about his disappearance. And the girlfriend was out surfing, but then again, that’s where she figured she might see him.
    His friends might not be losing sleep, but Storm felt a niggling anxiety. Few of the people who’d seen the lei o manō on Saturday knew what it meant in terms of Hawaiian legend. They looked at it merely as an artifact. At the most, a challenge. But the person who sent it knew it was a threat.
    And a threat is still a threat—maybe a worse one—if the person on the receiving end doesn’t recognize it as such. Storm wondered about surfer Ken Matsumoto’s death. As a Japanese national, would he or any of his friends know if he’d received a threat by way of an artifact? A half mile down the road, Storm pulled into Ka‛a‛awa Beach Park and dialed the Honolulu Police Department.
    â€œDetective Brian Chang, please,” she said to the receptionist.
    She considered it a stroke of luck that Brian, Leila’s boyfriend, picked up his line.
    â€œHey, Storm. Wish I could have been with you this weekend. Robbie’s talked of nothing else. What’s up?”
    â€œI wish you could have been, too.” Storm could hear the rattle of papers in the background, as if someone were giving him forms to sign. “Brian, did Leila tell you about that package my cousin received?”
    â€œRobbie did. A club with shark’s teeth. One of those Hawaiian warrior things, I gather. Robbie said it was cool.”
    â€œNahoa handled it pretty well, and he didn’t let on that it could be a threat.”
    â€œA threat?” The background paper shuffling ceased.
    Storm took a deep breath. “Do you know if Ken Matsumoto got any packages before he died?”
    â€œI don’t think so. It