Because I might have stabbed one named Sugar.
“Because I don’t want the cops or the Kings to find me. I need to know who to watch out for.”
Birdie sighed. “We’re gonna have to do something about your truck.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. I knew what she meant, but I couldn’t tell her I pulled over and took the plates off before I got to Kahakai. I also needed to put the plates back on without her noticing.
“You parked in their parking lot, and you left around the time of the incident. If they’ve got a shot of your plates, it won’t take long for them to track you down.”
They didn’t have a shot of my plates, but they likely had footage of my truck. Thankfully, I had a white Tacoma, one of the most common vehicles on the island. It was one of three vehicles I inherited when my father died. The other two were also white Tacomas, though one was used for spare parts.
“What should we do?” I asked.
“Take the plates off and hide them. Disconnect the battery. Tomorrow we’ll work on making it look like it’s been sitting a while. Then, if anyone comes asking about it, we can tell them the truck hasn’t been running for a while and act surprised when we discover the plates have been stolen.”
“Okay,” I nodded, grateful she was taking the lead. “What else?”
“Get the plates now,” she said.
Since the plates were in the pouch behind my seat, I used the time I would’ve spent removing them to take a few hits off my bowl before I went back inside.
“I’ll get rid of these,” she said, taking the plates from me. “You disconnect the battery.”
Once that was done, I went back to the living room. “What’s next?” I asked when Birdie returned a few minutes later.
“We need to get rid of the knife and burn your clothes. Which one do you want to do?”
“I’ll burn the clothes.”
“Get rid of the ones you’re wearing, too,” she added.
“Got it.” I gave her the knife and went to my room to change clothes.
Fuck, I was lucky to have a grandmother who helped me cover up my shit with minimal questions. Especially since I killed her son. He was an evil man who deserved much more than he got, but he was still her son, and I was the person who ended his life. For her to love me the way she did after everything was something I vowed never to take for granted.
When Birdie joined me by the fireplace, she was carrying a basket of clothes. “We’ll toss some of these in. If anyone comes looking around, we were burning some of your father’s things.”
“No one’s going to come inside and look in our fireplace without us knowing about it.”
“No, but we’ll have to empty it, and someone might look through our trash.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “Good point.”
“I brought some old bills we can toss in and say were letters or mementos. It’s part of our healing process.”
“Can we pretend the bills are the letters and mementos we should have but don’t because Chad Collins was an asshole who turned his back on his family in their time of need?” I asked excitedly.
Birdie shrugged. “It doesn’t sound like an awful idea, but I’m high, so who the fuck knows? Go for it, kid.”
And that’s how I used my oldest trauma to forget about my newest trauma long enough to fall asleep—the devil you knew and all.
SIX
KALANI
Ispent the next six weeks focused on monitoring two things—the aftermath of what we referred to as “the incident” and Matthew Heinz’s activity. Nothing had happened regarding the incident. We hadn’t heard a word from anyone, and I hoped it stayed that way.
Matthew was a different story. His email account had been very active. He made plans to fly to Hawaii and to meet with his “travel agent” at Liquid Anarchy and spend the night in Kahakai. The next day, he was supposed to drive to his sister’s house to babysit Hannah while her parents were away for a week. Once they were gone, Matthew would drive Hannah to the airport and escort her onto a private plane. Then he would accompany Hannah to Honolulu to keep her calm until the sedatives kicked in. While the plane was refueling, he would exit the plane, leaving Hannah on board with her new owner.
