BooksBarbecue
Back The Preserve
Chapters (56)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Half-Title Page
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright Page
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. 13.
  19. 14.
  20. 15.
  21. 16.
  22. 17.
  23. 18.
  24. 19.
  25. 20.
  26. 21.
  27. 22.
  28. 23.
  29. 24.
  30. 25.
  31. 26.
  32. 27.
  33. 28.
  34. 29.
  35. 30.
  36. 31.
  37. 32.
  38. 33.
  39. 34.
  40. 35.
  41. 36.
  42. 37.
  43. 38.
  44. 39.
  45. 40.
  46. 41.
  47. 42.
  48. 43.
  49. 44.
  50. 45.
  51. 46.
  52. 47.
  53. 48.
  54. EPILOGUE
  55. AFTERWORD
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“What happened?” the cabbie said as he pulled away.

“Jade wasn’t there,” Lett said. “I was waiting for her, all good and ready, then her damn family shows up. I guess it was family. No one told me about that possibility. Why didn’t you? What a goddamn snafu.” He added a kick to the front seats.

“Easy. Mistakes happen. What then? Did you . . .?”

“No. Didn’t need to. Why should I? No one saw me. I slipped out the back just fine.”

The cabbie handed Lett a flask. It was rye. It burned away the sand in his throat.

“I got to tell you,” Lett said, wiping his mouth, “I don’t think your target is there anymore. Or here in Honolulu for that matter. I think your target fled the coop, see.”

“That was a safe house.”

“Which is my very point. You leave a safe house? It’s a one-way ticket.”

Lett took another long drink, and any machinery left inside him disengaged for good, and all his emotion came surging back through the valves, rushing his whole body and brain like a stray fast wave, and he had to gasp from it, as if choking, and the cabbie said, “You want I pull over?”

“I’ll be all right. Just, get me back.”

“You did good,” the cabbie said, but the only thing that let Lett breathe again was when he yanked out the Colt and thumbed the safety back on and uncocked that hammer.

23.

Kanani holed up in her boogie house preparing for the worst, starting with a hard rap on the door from Frankie. Frankie hadn’t spotted her watching him exit that lava tube tunnel secured with a metal door. But she’d always known he would show up here, ever since Lett saw him on Hilo Side, ever since he appeared in that Packard Clipper down on Alii Drive, probably. Still, nothing transpired. She holed up overnight, eyes fixed on the sheer lace curtains. Still nothing. In the morning, she found the courage to venture out into camp. She went to the laundry and helped fold clothes like she did when she needed to think. Frankie never showed, not anywhere.

She took a ham sandwich to Wendell Lett, but he wasn’t there—his bungalow all locked up. He wasn’t on duty in camp, she found out. Then she heard they’d sent him to weapons training first thing in the morning. But he wasn’t there, either. She only hoped it had nothing to do with Frankie. And she thought about the tunnels running under the camp like so many lava tubes, and that brought shivers to the ache in her heart and the unease in her gut.

She started coming to her senses. The daylight helped. Maybe Frankie was only visiting that part of camp she saw, and would never be back? Even if he did, she might have time.