High-Mucka-Mucka
>> Above Kahuku
When Lono Oka'aina, who whispered to his horses in Hawaiian, heard from HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes that they had not been watered or unsaddled after the hunt, he started kicking himself for allowing the club renting the ranch to ride his animals.
"I'm on the way," he told Gomes, then handed his cell phone to Raydean Gonsalves.
"It's the horses! Can you stay with these two until the medevac chopper comes? I gotta go!"
"Oh no, you don't, mister. If there's work to be done on this ranch, I'm working right beside you."
Raydean heard Gomes yelling, handed the phone back to Lono.
"Listen, Mr. Oka'aina, I understand how you feel, but you gotta trust me here. Way back when, I spent a year in the Mounted Unit. I'll get your guys watered and fed and taken care of. But I need you to stay there with the two ladies until the chopper comes, then keep an eye on the crime scene. I'm trying to get the CSI guys up here, but it's going to be awhile. Can you help me out here, please?"
"You guys go, it's OK," Shauny Nakamura said, still holding the hand of Imelda Iglesia the Manila street kid. "We'll be fine." In Shauny's other hand was the beautiful hunting rifle with which she'd killed the murdering liar she knew as Steven. Nearby was the immense Arabian sword with which she'd killed Victor Primitivo. Yes, they'd be fine physically. But for years the question would come haunting back, how could she do such things? And every time the answer followed right behind: She didn't pick the fight, the fight picked her, and she had two choices: fight back or die a coward.
"That's OK," Lono said, "we'll wait." Then to Gomes: "You know horses?"
"I didn't fall on my head too often," Gomes said with a chuckle, the first in a while.
"Just call High-Mucka-Mucka -- he's the lead horse, big palomino. All the others will follow."
And then they heard the rotors of the medevac chopper, moments later saw the green double-prop bird with a big red cross painted on the underside. It landed down in the clearing where six bodies lay, and Shauny, Imelda, Lono and Raydean scrambled down the rocky slope. Shauny hugged Raydean and Lono, thanked them. "I suppose this needs to stay here," Shauny said and handed the rifle to Lono. "But be careful, it'll go off on its own."
Lono held it like a rattlesnake. As the chopper lifted off, above the roar of the rotors Shauny called "Let's stay in touch!"
At the ranch, Gomes saw the palomino, was about to call out "High-Mucka-Mucka!" when he heard a single, muffled gunshot. With his mini-Glock 9mm drawn, he went to investigate.
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily
in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at
dchapman@midweek.com