Dangerous Depths

  “I make a living at it. Leis are used for everything here. Kapa isn’t used for anything but display and ceremony.” Leia touched the scar on her lip, and Malia’s gaze touched it. “Clinging to the past won’t make your scar go away. You’re beautiful, why can’t you see that? The scar is gone.”

  “You’re perfect. You don’t know what it’s like to live with stares,” Leia said. Malia exchanged a long look with her mother, and Leia realized this was something the two had talked about privately.

  “There are no stares now, Leia.” Malia’s gaze locked on Leia. “That’s the real reason you broke up with Bane, isn’t it?”

  “What?” Leia dropped her hand.

  “You’re afraid, Leia. Afraid to marry and have children.” Malia lowered her voice as she leaned forward, her long hair falling over her shoulder. “Admit it.”

  Leia should have known she couldn’t keep anything from Malia for long. Her gaze connected with her aunt’s, and she saw compassion on Luana’s face. “I studied genetics, Malia. With Eva and I both being born with birth defects, I knew how likely it was for me to pass on that gene to my children. I didn’t want to inflict that on another child.” Tell her.

  “At least you’re admitting it. I was getting tired of the subterfuge. You used Bane’s objection to your giving up your career as an excuse, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe I did. Things were strained when I left for San Francisco. Once I got away and thought about things, I knew it wasn’t working.” She resisted the urge to tell her cousin the whole truth.

  Luana’s voice was heavy. “Your mother has a lot to answer for. She’s made you believe you don’t deserve love. Something is broken in her. All the wanting in the world won’t change it. All you can do is let it go.”

  “I wish it were that easy.”

  “You can’t force love. Or ignore it forever.” Malia studied her face. “I know you, Leia. You love Bane. There’s more to your break-up than a vague fear. There has to be.”

  The silence stretched out between them. Tell her. Leia rubbed her forehead. “It’s more than vague, Malia. I consulted a geneticist. There’s a strong chance that any child of mine would have the cleft lip, maybe a cleft palate too.”

  Malia put her hand to her mouth. “Did you tell your parents?”

  “No, why would I?” Leia didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “It’s time to go out to Tûtû’s. She’ll be glad to see us. She’s making pineapple boats.”

  They stood, and her aunt embraced her. “I have to get back home. I’ll be praying for you, Leia. Remember, God is in this, even when you can’t see his hand.”

  Leia sank into her aunt’s embrace and inhaled the white ginger scent she wore. Why couldn’t her own mother love her as her auntie did? She pulled away and kissed her aunt’s soft cheek. “Thanks, Auntie.”

  Eva had wandered close enough to hear. “I love pineapple boats. Can Hina come too?”

  “Sure.” Leia put her paints away, and they went to Leia’s motor-bike. Malia and her mother got into the sidecar, and Eva climbed on behind Leia. She drove through thick mangroves to a small, quaint cottage overgrown with red jade vines, their crimson lobes nearly covering the surface of the west wall. More flowers choked the yard, so many that it was hard to distinguish one plant from another: ginger, hibiscus, orchids, and proteas vied for space in the tiny yard. Bougainvillea rambled over the picket fence, and a bromeliads splashed a bright canvas of color by a monkeypod tree. The heady mixture of fragrances was nearly overpowering. She parked and they hurried to the front of the house.

  Leia opened the screen door. “Tûtû, we’re here.” She stepped into the cool darkness of the cottage. For someone who loved flowers and spent every moment in her garden, it always amazed Leia that her grandmother kept heavy drapes pulled all the time. She said she didn’t want the sun to fade her furniture, but Leia thought it was her grandmother’s way of hiding her deformity from tourists. The interior smelled closed up and musty, though her grandmother kept everything spotless.

  Eva ran past Leia as their grandmother came through the door-way to the kitchen. “Tûtû! We’ve come to visit you.”

  “I see that, keiki.” With one arm around Eva, Ipo Kahale advanced to embrace Leia and Malia. She wore a muumuu, but rubber boots clad her feet. “Would you like some kope? I just made a fresh pot.”

  She tried not to look at her grandmother’s feet. Since the dementia problems, Tûtû often chose unusual combinations to wear. “I’d love a cup.” They followed their grandmother to the warm kitchen. Most homes didn’t have air-conditioning, but with the curtains drawn, the trade winds had a hard time cooling the interior.

  Ipo poured three cups of coffee and handed Leia and Malia each a cup. “Let’s go outside and sit in the garden. Koma is coming to join us for pineapple boats, and he should be along shortly.”

  “Good. I wanted to talk to him.” Leia followed her grandmother out to the garden. Malia flung herself onto the soft grass and picked a hibiscus blossom to tuck behind her ear. A loud honk came from the side yard, then Pua, her grandmother’s Hawaiian nene, came running to meet them. The goose honked again and rushed to Leia. She plucked a flower to feed Pua, and the nene gobbled it up. Nenes were the only native geese left on Hawaii, and they had only recently been brought back from the edge of extinction. Leia loved to watch Pua waddle through the tall grasses and paddle in the pond. The goose had been a part of the family for ages. At twenty-five now, Pua wasn’t as spry as she used to be. Leia sat on the grass by her sister and let Pua sit beside her. The nene put her head on Leia’s lap.

  Her grandmother went to the picnic table and cut pineapples in two, then scooped out the fruit and began to chop it for the dessert. In spite of her deformed fingers, she managed the knife efficiently. Leia knew better than to try to help her grandmother.

  “What do you want to talk to Koma about?” her grandmother asked.

  “He’s lived here a long time, hasn’t he?”

  “All his life. His parents lived here before him, and Koma contracted the disease by the time he was five.” She nodded toward the jungle. “Here he comes now.”

  Leia turned to see Koma moving slowly through the tangled vines that drooped from the ‘ohi’a trees. He’d broken his hip several months ago, right after her father lost his job, and he still wasn’t fully recovered. Watching his limp, she wished she could do something to fix it, but he surely must be ninety by now. He carried the characteristic marks of Hansen’s disease—missing eyebrows, deformed nose that almost made him look like a lion, lumpy ear lobes, and clublike fingers. He sang a tuneless song as he walked, leaning on his hand-carved cane. His leathery face brightened when he saw the girls. “Ah, my keikis, I hoped you’d be here. I wanted to tell you about seeing Ku.” He steadied himself on his cane, then lowered his bulk into the chair.

  Leia sighed inwardly at the vacant look in his eyes. At least he was talkative. Sometimes he stared into space and said nothing. “I wonder if you might tell me some stories of the old days.”

  He dropped his hand and smiled. “Many people ask me about the old days. No one wants to hear what an old man is doing now.” Pua tried to nibble on his toes, and he bent to rub the goose’s head.

  “Who else has asked you about the old days?”

  “The diving man wanted to know all about my childhood.” Koma straightened and stroked Eva’s hair with his deformed fingers as she leaned her head against his knee.

  Tony said he’d talked to Koma. Leia leaned forward. “I’d like to hear too. Did your parents tell you a story about buried treasure?”

  Koma noticed Hina. “That nasty cat,” he said. “Why did you bring her? She doesn’t like me, and she scares the birds.”

  “She likes you fine,” Leia soothed. “What can you tell me about the treasure?” She doubted she was going to get anything out of Koma today. He seemed almost secretive rather than vacant.

  “Your tûtû is the real treasure,” he said. “She always invites an
old man like me to come eat. I would starve if it weren’t for Ipo.”

  “You said you saw Ku,” Eva pressed. “Did he have big teeth and claws?” She made a pretend roar and swiped in the air like a cat.

  Koma patted her head. “Nothing like that. He carried the shovel he used to dig the fishpond.”

  “Shovel?” Leia stifled a giggle. “Where did you see him?”

  “In the mangroves by the fishpond. He lives in the cabin nearby.”

  The one Leia had seen. Moloka’i had once boasted nearly seventy-five fishponds, dug out by the ancient Hawaiians to raise fish. Most of them had fallen into disrepair and only three had been restored. As far as Leia knew, there were no fishponds in this area; most were on the south shore, and Koma wasn’t strong enough to have climbed out of the valley. He refused to ride in cars or boats, and to go to another area, he could only have walked. She hadn’t looked around outside the cabin much that day. Maybe she should go back.

  She grabbed her purse and pulled out a page she’d torn from a scuba magazine. “Did Ku look like this?” She showed him the picture of the deep-sea diver in high-tech equipment.

  Koma put up his hand to hide his eyes. “It’s kapu to look on one of the gods.”

  Leia suppressed a sigh. “Please, just look at it, Koma. I think Ku might just have been a special kind of diver.”

  “Get it away from me.” His voice was high with stress.

  Leia received a warning glance from her grandmother. She couldn’t push him. He was too old and frail. “That’s fine, Koma. We won’t talk about it anymore,” she soothed.

  “Maybe Ku was looking for the treasure,” Malia said.

  Koma’s hand stilled on Eva’s head. “He was in the wrong place. The treasure isn’t by the fishpond. It is in my ‘ohi’a tree. It’s the original one, you know. Pele herself turned ‘Ohi’a into a tree when he refused to marry her. That’s why it’s the largest in the forest. ‘Ohi’a guards the treasure now.”

  Leia had heard the story many times. She knew which tree he meant. The big canopy tree dwarfed the others in the forest. “Can you show me the treasure?”

  Koma’s forehead wrinkled, and he shook his head. “My father told me something terrible would happen if anyone dug up the treasure. I’m the caretaker.”

  “What happens when you die then?” Ipo put in. “You have no children. The treasure will be lost forever.”

  Koma’s crooked smile faded. “I don’t know. My father said to pass it on to my own son someday. I have no son to tell.” He looked like he might cry, then his gaze lingered on Leia. His smile came again. “I will show you,” he said. He rose and beckoned to Leia. “Come. This won’t take long.”

  “I want to come too,” Eva said, scrambling to her feet.

  Malia grabbed Eva’s arm. “Hush, Eva, you have to stay with me. Tûtû needs someone to turn the crank on the ice-cream churn.”

  Eva’s eyes widened. “You said I’m too slow. Can I really?” She turned to ask her grandmother.

  “‘Ae,” her grandmother said. “But you must follow my instructions.” She waved off Leia and Koma.

  Leia followed the old man through the jungle of vines tangled with morning glory. She matched her steps to his, but he didn’t seem disposed to carry on a conversation. He muttered to himself and stared into the recess of the trees. Leia started to ask him more questions about the treasure, then decided she’d better not push her luck. If he got upset, he’d order her back to her grandmother’s.

  They came to a clearing filled with wild ginger and the spicy scent of turmeric. Koma paused and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He turned to her with his mouth open as though he were about to speak. Leia heard a muffled whump, then saw his mouth go slack. His eyes rolled back in his head, and one clublike hand pawed at her arm.

  She grabbed his forearm. “Koma, what’s wrong?” His mouth worked, and then he sagged against her. She smelled a familiar coppery odor, and her hand swiped something warm and sticky on his back. She eased him to the ground and rolled him over. A tiny hole spurting blood bloomed in his back. She leaned forward and put the heel of her hand against the wound to slow down the flow of blood.

  “No time, no time. Talk to your tûtû,” he gasped. His body went limp.

  Leia touched his neck and felt for a pulse. Nothing. She ran her hand over his forehead and touched his thin hair. The back of her neck prickled, and she craned her neck to scan the clearing. He’d been shot, and the killer was probably watching her now.

  Eight

  Prespiration dripped down Bane’s forehead, and he wiped it with his forearm. When they’d discovered traces of powder and the remains of a small bomb under the landing gear, he knew he was right—someone had sabotaged his plane. It was only by God’s grace that he was still alive. Ron needed to know about this. With Ajax following him, he went in search of his boss, and found Ron poring over printouts of the last magnetic scan of the seafloor.

  Ron’s smile was full of satisfaction. “I still can’t quite believe we’ve found it. The cannonballs mean the rest of the ship is down there somewhere. When news hits about what we’ve found, we’re going to have every treasure hunter in the world breathing down our necks. Good job hiring Tony’s divers to help us look.”

  “We’ll have salvage rights,” Bane pointed out. “I assume you’ve already applied.”

  Ron nodded. “Like pirates care. We’ll post a guard, but they’ll try to sneak in underwater. You and I both know there’s no keeping a lid on this once the media get wind of it. I’d like to make as much progress as we can before Westerfield Salvage moves in. Sam Westerfield is a blight on the earth. It’s like he has some kind of inner radar that can detect whatever I’ve found.”

  Bane eyed his boss’s face. “The plane was sabotaged,” he said quietly. “I found what was left of the bomb.”

  Ron’s smile faded, and his lips thinned. “Westerfield,” he spat.

  “Maybe. There’s no way to know for sure. The bomb components are pretty generic. Gunpowder, steel pipe.”

  “Of course it’s Westerfield. No one else is trying to horn in on my missions. Well, this time I beat him anyway.” Ron huffed.

  “We need to cement our find, announce it to the papers so no one else can take credit. I’d suggest we get back down there and get more proof. The cannonballs are great, but we need more.” Bane opened his locker and pulled out his diving gear. “If Westerfield did sabotage that plane, he must be insane. I can’t believe he’d go this far to steal your finds.”

  Ron took his wet suit from his locker. “I didn’t tell you the whole story. There were too many people around.” He sat on a bench and looked out over the water. “I married his sister. She died in a waterskiing accident. He’s never forgiven me for her death.”

  Ajax whined and bumped Bane’s hand with his nose. “I’m getting your stuff too.” He pulled out the dog’s snuba gear and began to get Ajax ready. “That must have been terrible. Why would he blame you?”

  “I was driving the boat. He swore he’d make me pay, and he knows how important my work is to me.” Ron adjusted the tanks on his back and reached for his mask. “He’s working on some similar equipment too. If he can get a patent first, we’ll be out of luck.”

  Ron’s work was his consuming passion. Anyone who disrupted that rocked his world. His voice was dispassionate even as he told about the death of his wife. Bane could see how her brother might get the wrong idea. Bane watched the dog jump in, then bit down on his mouthpiece and held on to his mask as he went over the side. The warm water enveloped him. He paused and adjusted his regulator, then finned his way down. He passed Ajax on the way, and the dog had a smile on his face. Baskets dropped by the crew on deck sank past him. They were attached to the winch in case the men found anything worth hauling to the surface.

  The throb of the engines faded from Bane’s ears as he dove toward the bottom. He followed Ron’s scuffed and worn fins to the coral bed. Bane’s gaze scanned the seafloor
for any artifacts churned up by the current. An inquisitive triggerfish peered into his mask, then zipped away. A honu, the Hawaiian green sea turtle, paused nearby while half a dozen surgeonfish nibbled algae from its back. The honu turned to look at him, then swam in lazy strokes to the surface. Ajax struggled to dive deeper, but he couldn’t manage it and turned to follow the sea turtle.

  Bane’s attention wandered to the cave. He wondered what secrets lay inside. Ron expected his help, but he felt drawn to the mouth of the cave. He finned over to the opening and shone his light inside. No sharks today, though the bright beam picked up a garden of colorful sponges attached to the walls and ceiling of the cave. A squid oozed away from his probing light into a rocky crevice. He itched to explore farther. The cardinal rule of cave diving was never to go in alone. Tony had broken that mandate and died for his trouble. Bane paused and glanced back at Ron. His boss would never agree to give up digging to go caving.

  Bane couldn’t bring himself to leave. He stayed near the mouth and swept his light inside. The cave stretched back farther than his light could reach. Entering just a few feet wouldn’t hurt. He advanced, careful to keep the opening in sight. Translucent shrimp occupied one corner. This was stupid and dangerous, especially at this depth. He needed to get out of here and get to work.

  A noise, or maybe a sensation, enveloped him—it sounded like a boat engine revving up and going over him. The rumble began to dissipate, then another started. Earthquake? Just in case, he swam out of the cave and joined Ron. Ron seemed not to notice the sound. Bane touched his arm, and Ron looked up. His eyes narrowed as the sound seemed to grow then fade again.

  Bane looked down and saw a crack widening along the seabed. The sound came again, and he realized it had to be an earthquake swarm. He grabbed Ron’s arm and pointed at the crack, which continued to expand. The sound intensified and seemed to surround him until he wanted to clap his hands over his ears and shoot for the surface. He saw the same panic on Ron’s face. The crevice spread out as it ran toward the abyss. Then another crack developed, this one running perpendicular to the first. The rumbling noise filled his head until he couldn’t think. The seafloor began to crumble and fall over the side, where it disappeared into the bottomless ocean of blue hole. He felt as if he were falling with it, though he knew he was still safely swimming at about a hundred feet.