My Kind of Town
Kahuku City Lights
>> North Shore
It was coming down, as so many things do, to money. As Sam explained when he'd pulled the black Explorer over by the darkened Waialua High baseball field, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka following in the gold van, they both needed money. Sam had just fled the gang that was his life, but tried to kill him. The senator was a wanted man. They didn't have a dime between them. But they did have $50,000 worth of crystal methamphetamine in the van, and an appointment to sell it.
"I t'ink, braddah, we do our deal, then mo' better we split up," Sam had said. "Go our own ways, eh. Still yet, we bot' need da kala. So 50-50."
"I get the Explorer." It had mirrored windows.
"No problem."
"And both guns."
"Bad idea. We going be out-numbered, garans-ball-bearin's. Who going cover you?"
The senator hesitated.
"Braddah, you jus' saved my okole back there. Not for you, I'm make-die-dead already. I owe you. No worries."
And so the senator handed over the Magnum .357 he'd conned off Lude. Back on the road, the senator drove the Explorer and followed Sam through Haleiwa, past Pupukea and Turtle Bay, listening to a voice that said he should let Sam do the deal by himself, and he should make a U-turn, find a phone, call HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes and give himself up.
Surely both Gomes and the judge would give him some mercy points for that. Maybe he could negotiate with the prosecutor. He knew Peter Carlisle from way back.
But there was a limit to what any of them could do for him, and no guarantees. And the few hours he'd spent in the HPD jail were bad enough. A repeat criminal, on his way back to OCCC, had smiled and made lewd comments. Nope, the senator was not going back behind bars voluntarily.
So just before Kahuku, when the gold van turned right, he followed. The dusty track rose with the foothills of the Ko'olaus and soon Kahuku city lights were glowing below. They disappeared as the senator followed Sam into a wooded area. The road widened here, the van's brake lights flared. The senator stopped behind the van.
He was just stepping out of the vehicle, his eyes adjusting to the uneven light when a shot rang out and the Explorer's windshield shattered. He dropped behind the open door, saw Sam aiming the Magnum at him. A second bullet plowed into the door. A steel cross beam saved him. Aiming between door and car body, the senator got off three shots, all of which missed, but Sam was forced to take cover just long enough for the senator to dash into the dark woods.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com