His grin dropped with a jolt. “What?”

“That’s why you wouldn’t tell me my new post right away—you want me to help you.”

He rushed over to her, his hands clasped in deference. “Can you? What do you want? You know I can’t help you get Wendell free.”

“It’s too late to help Wendell. That would only give Frankie his big excuse to break you.”

“Break me?”

“In two.”

Selfer clawed at a cheek. “How do you know? How’re you so sure?”

Now, finally, Kanani smiled. She was waiting for this moment. She smoothed out her overalls on her hips, puckered her lips. “Because he told me. Frankie, that is. We go way back.”

Selfer stepped away from the garbage can. “Then get your own damn keys to the tunnels,” he snarled. “If that’s what you want. Because you’re not getting mine—”

“It’s not what I want, Charlie. I’m telling you this to help you.”

“Sure, sure.” Selfer threw open his desk drawer and pulled out his Colt pistol and fumbled with it.

“You like I show you how to load that?” she said.

“Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, turning the gun in his hand.

She stepped close to him and caressed his shoulder, her red fingernails on his chest, his cheek, the gun. “You have to make the big move. Yes, you. It’s the only one that’s gonna save you.”

Selfer cocked his head at her. “Why are you helping me? Frankie’s from Hawaii.”

She pulled her hand away, bowed her head. “Frankie, he . . . probably killed my father. Maybe it wasn’t his own hand. I can’t know for sure. But it was his kine. Bad people.”

Selfer choked on a nervous laugh. “Hell, you’re not messing around, are you? Is that why you came here, really? To avenge him?”

Her head flushed hot, maybe from surprise, maybe pride. She’d never looked at it that way. Selfer could be plenty perceptive when he had a death sentence. “Maybe. Maybe it is. Now listen. You can’t just go and eliminate him just anywhere up here. He’s gonna expect that. He’s gonna see you coming. You’re gonna have to wait for just the right kine moment.”

“How will I know?” Selfer said and stared at his gun again.

Kanani waited a beat. Pretended to think. Nodded at a thought. “I will tell you when.”

“Okay.” Selfer nodded, then shook his head. “No, I mean, how?”

“I know a guard,” she whispered.

“One of the new ones? No. Wendell’s friend—Jock Quinn?”

“Yes. Keep it down.”

“But, he didn’t want to get involved,” Selfer whispered back. “He made it out. He got papers back to the regular world. Wants to rotate back in. One of the few.”