Page 31 of Fast Fury

Better for his cousin to hate him forever than Kai or his girlfriend winding up dead from aVenenobullet.

****

Inside her rental car parked out of sight of everyone coming and going from the fancy hotel, Diane stared at the picture on her phone that one of the people she’d bribed had texted her. It was definitely the same man she’d followed here.

Hani Maka. The name of the man who trafficked the black tar heroin that had killed Bailey.

He’d just gone inside a few minutes ago. She hadn’t been stupid enough to follow him in there. Too many witnesses and who knew how many security cameras. But she had managed to snap a few pictures on her phone when he’d met up with a couple.

She’d been here yesterday, doing some recon. The hotel was hosting a big pharma conference. From her research she’d learned that one company in particular was a big manufacturer of fentanyl. The poison the cartel thugs mixed into their heroin and cocaine.

That shit had killed Bailey. Diane was trying to identify a target here at the conference. She’d narrowed it down to someone from NextGen Pharmaceuticals. The CEO of the company was here. He had to know what his poison was doing to the world, but he and his shareholders didn’t give a shit as long as the profits continued to roll in.

Diane focused on Hani’s picture once more. She hated how good-looking he was. She’d wanted him to be ugly. As ugly as the evil inside him that drove him to make a living distributing poison that killed people’s children.

Had Bailey known him? Would he even remember her if Diane confronted him?

Didn’t matter. Tamping down the hot rage, she scrolled to the next photo and enlarged it. Hani had met another big Hawaiian guy, who was with a woman.

Diane focused on the woman. She was dressed in business attire, a teal blouse and black pencil skirt, and she had something around her neck. A lanyard.

Squinting at it through the glasses she used while driving, a shock of cold ran through her when she read the credentials. Abby McKinley. NextGen Pharmaceuticals. And she was meeting with Hani.

Why the hell would a NextGen employee be meeting with a known drug trafficker? Unless…

She swallowed as a combination of anger and revulsion twisted her stomach. Unless the cartel was working with NextGen to supply the toxic drugs to make addicts and keep demand for their poison high.

Shaken, she started her vehicle and began the drive back to Kaanapali where she was staying. Halfway there, the anger and revulsion had turned into determination. She turned right at the highway and drove across the island, heading to Happy Valley. Once there she found a parking spot near a vacant house and got out to start her canvassing.

Wearing the same wig and outfit from earlier, she tucked her pistol into the loose waistband of her jeans—she was losing weight like crazy, still having no appetite—and went in search of the addict she’d last talked to. The street people here knew things other residents didn’t.

She found him a block from their previous meeting, in the midst of shooting up. He clenched and unclenched his fist as he lowered the needle and removed the elastic band serving as a tourniquet, looked up at her with bleary eyes and scowled.

“Why you here,haole?” he ground out, his expression hostile and suspicious. “I told you not to come ‘roun here again.”

Diane was well aware that the word was meant as a deliberate slur. It was laughable. She was so beyond the realm of words hurting her, he had no idea.

She crouched next to him, heart pounding, and held up her phone—along with a hundred dollar bill. “I just saw Hani talking with this man. He looks like he might be a local. Do you know him?”

The man stared at the money for a moment, then squinted hard at the picture and broke into a chuckle.

Diane frowned and lowered the phone. “What’s funny?”

“Oh, man. Ain’t seen him ‘round here for years.”

“You know him? This guy?” she tapped the big Hawaiian in the photo. Or at least, he looked Hawaiian.

“Yeah,haole, I know him.Mokefrom ‘roun here. Grew up in the neighborhood. Name’s Kai. They’re cousins. Heard from someone that he’s with the DEA now.”

Diane gasped, her muscles grabbing tight. “DEA?”

“Yeah. That’s what people say.”

Holy shit. This was so much more corrupt and twisted than she had ever imagined. This DEA agent was working with the cartel and the pharmaceutical industry? “They’re cousins,” she repeated, wanting to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood somehow.

“That’s what I said,” he bit out, and snatched the money from her fingers.

Diane shoved to her feet and hurried back to her rental car, her mind whirling. The police weren’t on to her yet. No one was looking for her, and no one ever would, because she had no criminal history of any sort. She still had time, but likely not much, so she had to act fast.