Page 30 of Talk Story

“I’ll handle the phone call to Edith, while you reach out to Sophie,” Keone said. I nodded briskly, pulled out my phone, and stepped out onto the tiny porch to make my call to Sophie.

Keone and I did make a good team. If only the romance part of our relationship was as smooth as our K & K work.

Sophie picked up on the first ring of the video call. “Hey Kat.” Her slightly husky, British accent voice was brisk. She was beautiful, as always; but the background was pixelating her image, as Mr. K and I were both leaning hard on the shack’s limited bandwidth for communication. “You must be calling about the stone panels.”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” I said. “How did you know? Are you bugging the shack?”

“No, but I could if I wanted to.” She sounded dead serious; Sophie was a very literal person. “Do you want me to?”

I rolled my eyes and snorted in reply.

She shrugged and went on. “I’ve got a flag on some keywords related to your missing petroglyphs, and there’s been movement. Three weeks ago, an art and antique transport company out of Honolulu filed export documentation for a large-format stone artifact shipment. Destination was listed as a private collector in Singapore. The paperwork was impeccable, but the size and shape of the objects made me think they might be yours.”

“Okay. What can we do about it?” I rubbed the place between my brows where a worry line was trying to form.

“Well, the collector doesn’t exist except on paper, but that doesn’t mean he or she isn’t real.” She glanced down and the sound of a keyboard came through the phone. “I did a deeper analysis of the transport company, since they will have the stones in physical possession. It was incorporated four months ago, and the listed origination point for the shipment is a warehouse facility near the Kahului airport. Leased by a company called Pacific Heritage Consultants, LLC, which is registered to . . .”

“Let me guess. Chang Development, or some subsidiary of theirs,” I said.

“Not a bad guess, Kat. It’s the same company associated with the Cook Islands structure I traced before.” Sophie rubbed the side of her cheek, where a scar pulled the skin tight over the bone. “The export hasn’t been implemented yet. They may still be accumulating inventory or waiting for something specific.”

Waiting for the rest of the petroglyphs to be carved out.

For the land rights challenge to be suppressed.

Waiting for Emerson, Patel, and Pali’s documentation to be discredited—and Pearl’s incriminating stash of documents to be found.

Waiting until the Awawakapu was just an empty, pretty valley ready to be exploited.

“That warehouse in Kahului,” I said. “Can you get me an address? I want to alert MPD.”

“Already sent,” she said, as my phone dinged. “Move fast, Singapore’s private collectors don’t give things back.”

I sat for a moment after the call; the trade winds were finally settling in the palms across the street at the beach, the last of the light bleeding away from a sullen dark sky.

I called Lei.

“Sophie gave me a possible location for the petroglyph panels,” I said. “It’s in Kahului, and we need to move quickly before they ship them out.”

A pause. “We can’t be in both places at once—searching for Emerson and the panels in Kahului, which is a hard two hours’ drive away at night. Plus, for that I need time to gather probable cause for a warrant. Sophie’s say-so isn’t enough to send a team over to check it out. I need documentation on all of her intel, and a judge to sign off.” She sighed, and it sounded weary. “Malia has pulled together several officers to search for Emerson at this place Keone identified—that has to be priority. Can you meet us at the turnoff to Sacred Valley in twenty minutes?

“Of course.” Keone was exiting the shack; he raised his brows in question, and I nodded at him. “We still want to come.”

“Okay, but you have to stay well back by the vehicles when we go in. Meanwhile, I’ll call my partner Pono in Kahului and have him get the paperwork started for the warrant—if you can forward me everything Sophie has on where the panels are being stored.”

“Done,” I said; I’d pushed out the file on my phone before calling her. “We’ve got this. Off to rescue a scientist.”

“I sure hope so,” Lei said fervently, and ended the call.

I turned to Keone. “Time to roll out for Sacred Valley. Again.”

“I wonder if Pali found that archive,” Keone said, as we left Dr. Patel in the shack to keep working on her report; she planned to spend the night there in the Murphy bed strapped to the wall.

“I’d feel better if I’d heard something from Pali by now.” I checked the app on my phone that monitored the cameras I’d installed in the cave. “No activity from the surveillance equipment, either. At this point, I don’t know if a signal isn’t getting through, or if nothing has tripped the sensors yet.”

“I’ll text him. Sometimes those get through.” Keone worked his phone as I fired up Sharkey and we got on the road.

Sometimes I wished I was back in the Secret Service; it was mellower than a week as a civilian in Ohia.