Page 49 of Tiki Beach
We found Kawika sitting up in bed. Color had returned to his face, though a large bandage still covered his head. He was eating what appeared to be hospital oatmeal with the resigned expression of someone who knew complaining wouldn’t improve the quality.
“If it isn’t the detective duo,” he greeted us, setting aside his spoon. “Please tell me you brought real food.”
“Sorry,” I apologized. “Next time.”
“I hope there won’t be a next time, and they let me out of here tomorrow.”
“How are you feeling, cuz?” Keone asked, pulling up chairs for us.
“Like someone tried to crack my skull open,” Kawika said. “Better than yesterday, though. The doctor says I’ll have a headache for a while.”
“Any more memories of the attack?” I asked.
Kawika’s expression sobered. “Fragments. I remember the sandalwood smell more clearly now—definitely cologne, not natural wood.”
I frowned, remembering a flash of fragrance. David Santos had smelled of a sandalwood cologne.
“And . . . the attacker said something right before they hit me.”
“What did they say?” Keone asked, leaning forward intently.
“Something like ‘nothing personal’ or ‘just business,’” Kawika frowned with the effort of remembering. “It was a man’s voice, I’m sure of that now.”
“How’s Pearl?” I asked. “Have you seen her?”
“Briefly, this morning. They took me to her in a wheelchair.” A smile softened his features. “She’s weak but definitely Pearl. First thing she did was scold me for not ducking fast enough.”
We chuckled—it was exactly the sort of thing Pearl would say, her concern masked by practical admonishment. “Can we visit her, do you think?”
“The doctors are keeping her quiet. They don’t want her agitated. Family only,” Kawika said. “Though there’s no family here on the island, I get an exemption as her Power of Attorney and caregiver.”
“Did she say anything about the case?” Keone asked. “About the evidence or the Santos-Akana connection?”
“Not directly,” Kawika lowered his voice, though we were alone in the room. “She asked if I could retrieve the temple box.”
My brows rose. “Temple box?”
“Apparently, there’s a second sandalwood box,” Kawika said. “Similar to the crane box, but kept at the Buddhist temple at Iao Valley where Pearl has meditated in the past. She said I should retrieve it before ‘they’ realized it existed. I wonder if you could do that for me.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ve always meant to visit that temple. This is a great excuse.”
“Pearl was clever,” Keone said. “She spread her evidence in multiple locations, ensuring that even if one cache was discovered, others would remain. Did she say what’s in this temple box?”
Kawika shook his head, then touched his temple with a wince at the movement. “Only that it was ‘the other half of the truth.’ She gave me this—” He reached for the drawer of his bedside table and withdrew a small key on a red silk cord. “She kept it around her neck. She said it opens the temple box. The head monk, Venerable Sonam, is expecting someone to come and claim it.”
I accepted the key, examining its small size and brass gleam in my palm. “We’ll go check on it right away.”
“One more thing,” Kawika added. “Pearl mentioned that the ‘final piece’ is still waiting to be found. Something about ‘what’s buried isn’t always in the ground.’”
“More cryptic guidance,” Keone said, with a slight eye roll.
“She’s protecting information that people have already tried to kill for,” Kawika said, a little frosty in Pearl’s defense. “Caution seems warranted.”
We didn’t stay much longer, aware that Kawika needed rest and we had a busy morning ahead. As we were leaving, he caught my hand.
“Be careful,” he said. “Whoever did this,” he gestured to his bandaged head, “won’t hesitate to try again if they think you’re close to the truth.”
“We’ll be careful,” I assured him. “You focus on recovering. We’ll handle the rest.”
