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  "Airworthy?"

  "Yes, it shouldn't be flying. The mechanics brought it here to await replacement of the windshield. They completed other routine maintenance checks as well. They discovered that the bearings in the tail rotor were bad. They haven’t replaced the bearings yet because we are waiting for delivery of the parts. If that bird is being flown and the bearings seize up, it will crash. The mechanics said we’d been damn lucky that hadn’t happened already."

  "Would the helicopter crash without warning?" I said.

  "Well, the pilot would get an alarm on the flight panel first, an abnormal heat in the tail rotor assembly alarm. That would tell the pilot he needed to set the bird down right away. So, no it wouldn’t crash without any warning. The alarm might only give the pilot a few minutes to find a place to land before the bearings failed though."

  "Do your helicopters have the range to reach all the islands in the chain from here on Oahu?"

  "Yes, as far as the eight major islands go," Beckett said. "We run tours to them all."

  "If the bearings failed on the missing helicopter, where would be the most likely place for it to come down?"

  "It depends on where the bird was going. And, as I said, the mechanics said we were damn lucky the bearings hadn’t seized already during flight. They both agreed they didn’t believe the bearings would last for more than another flight hour at most. If the bird flew to Kauai for example, that’s about 63 miles, so I wouldn’t like the chances of it making it that far. If the pilot went the other direction, the bird could make it to Molokai, Lanai, even Maui. But I doubt it would make it to the big island."

  "I see, so the closer the better the chances then."

  "Yes, but that bird shouldn’t be flown at all. I need to call the police and report that someone has stolen it. And I need to notify the Coast Guard to start a search in case it went down in the ocean."

  "Do me a favor, Mr. Beckett?" I said.

  "What kind of favor?"

  "I understand you want to report the theft as soon as possible. But would you consider not saying anything to the police for a couple of days?"

  "Why the devil would I wait to report it?" Beckett said. "If the bird goes down in a populated area there could be liability issues. It seems best to report it now."

  "We're sure to have heard about it already if it had crashed on land, Mr. Beckett," I said. "Chances are the helicopter is on the ground somewhere now, unless as you said it is in the sea."

  "Why are you asking me to do this?"

  "I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Beckett. I’m not doing a background check, and I don’t work for your insurer. I’m looking for Adam Morton. Morton took some valuable property from my client, and I want to get it back. If the police find Morton first, I may never get the property back. The courts will keep it tied up in legal limbo. If Adam Morton took your missing helicopter as I suspect and I can find him, I'd get my property back. But you would also get your helicopter back. It’s a win-win for both of us."

  "But, I have to notify the Coast Guard," Beckett said. "If the bird went into the ocean, if the pilot survived the crash, he won’t last long in open water. Evidence at a crash site deteriorates with every passing hour. That makes it even more difficult to find a crash site."

  "Sure, I understand," I said. "But if you report this to the Coast Guard you'll have to tell them Morton stole the helicopter. They will likely share that information with the police."

  "Okay, I understand that. It doesn't change the ethical considerations."

  "When would you have discovered the helicopter was missing if I hadn't shown up here today?" I said.

  "I suppose in a couple of days when the supplier delivers the parts we need," Beckett said. "The mechanics would have discovered it missing. You know when they went to the hanger to replace the bearings."

  "Then why not give me those two days?" I said. "No one but us knows the helicopter is missing."

  "But what if it crashed? What about the pilot?"

  "It's been 24 hours already," I said. "You said it was yesterday when you saw the helicopter in the hanger. If it crashed in the ocean, it's already too late for the pilot. If it had crashed on land, we would have heard about it."

  "If I agree do you give me your word you will notify me if you find my missing bird?"

  "Of course I will, Mr. Beckett," I said, "you have my word on it."

  "All right, 48 hours," Beckett said. "I'll wait 48 hours before I call the police. But not one minute more."

  "Awesome," I said. "Thank you for giving me the chance to find Morton, Mr. Beckett."

  "Then I'll expect to hear from you soon."

  "Yes, no worries," I said. "Count on it."

  After saying goodbye to Beckett, I got on the motorbike and headed back to Waikiki. The search for Morton and the missing helicopter would have to wait until tomorrow. I first needed to locate a flying service to hire. I didn't reckon Morton had crashed into the sea. Only if he had made an unlucky choice and tried flying to one of the more distant islands. It seemed logical Morton wanted to get off Oahu to somewhere he could lay low until the heat died down a bit. Afterward, he could try to organize a way to leave the islands for another part of the world. My guess was he was already on the ground on one of the nearer islands to Oahu that Beckett had mentioned. I’d start with Molokai tomorrow and work my way down the chain from there as necessary.

  It was after four when I got back to the hotel. Feeling a bit tired I decided to nap until time to get ready for the dinner date with Mike Young.

  Chapter 22

  FIVE-THIRTY, THE TIME I’d set the alarm on my phone before falling asleep, came sooner than I found I wanted. The doctor warned I'd sleep more than usual or less than usual until I had recovered from the concussions. So far at least it seemed like it was going to be the former for me. I wasn't quite sure Malone had mentioned this facet of the private detecting business. Getting bashed on the head on a routine basis wasn't something I'd expected. I wasn’t keen to experience that with regularity.

  Pushing myself into a sitting position, I sensed a headache was beginning. I was happy it was more of a dull ache than the severe type I’d had before. I walked to the bathroom and took a couple of the pills they had given me at the hospital and chased them with water. I looked into the mirror. My hair was a mess, and I had dark gray circles under my eyes. At least I had some time to pull myself together before Mike was due to pick me up.

  After a scalding hot shower, I went to work with two shades of concealer to cover the dark circles. I dotted my face with foundation. I buffed it into my skin, being gentle around my eyes, so I didn’t remove the concealer beneath them. It took a good half hour, but I managed to achieve my goal. I'd blended the concealer and foundation into one so that I achieved the natural look I was going for. It wasn’t my habit to wear make up much. I preferred the natural look. But beyond the eye imperfections, my face was a bit pale. I hadn’t had enough time in the sun lately. Satisfied I looked presentable after drying and brushing my hair I was ready to get dressed.

  Having retrieved my luggage, I had a wider selection of outfits to choose from. Settling on a little black dress I thought was flattering, I dug through my suitcase for undies. I was careful to select matching bra and undies, some lacy black ones. I didn't plan anything happening after dinner with Mike. After all, it was the first date. But a wise girl is always prepared for anything. I’d accepted long ago that after some drinks, I tended to lose a few inhibitions.

  The passing thought of Mike and sex left me feeling a bit conflicted and a bit angry with myself. Mike was an attractive man, and I was a modern feminist with every right to express my own sexuality. But I knew very well the source of the conflicted feelings, my infatuation with Malone.

  I’d had my chances, but I hadn’t had sex since I’d forced myself to acknowledge the feelings I had for him. I knew why I hadn't. Even now the brief thought of Mike and sex had skewered me with feelings of disloyalty toward Malone. The f
eelings were as ridiculous as they were familiar. For fuck’s sake. How could I still be so obsessed with a man I was never going to have the chance to be with.

  I shook off the impending slide into a full on pity party. I resisted another bout of self-loathing over my unrequited crush. After slipping on the dress, I added a gold choker and matching delicate gold bracelet to my outfit. I put my feet into a pair of black patent leather pumps with three-inch heels. A last minute check in the mirror, and I was off to the lift for the ride down to the lobby to wait for Mike’s arrival.

  MIKE WALKED INTO THE lobby at ten of seven, scoring points for promptness. He looked dashing in khaki Dockers with a blue sports coat and tie. He escorted me outside where he had left his car, a red Jeep Grand Cherokee. We made small talk while he drove us to the other end of Waikiki to an Italian restaurant that he said I was sure to like.

  It was an awesome evening, perfect for being outdoors, and Mike had reserved a table on the patio. We began the night with a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio while we waited for our food. Mike had lasagna. I ordered the shrimp fettuccine that our server had recommended. We drank some wine and chatted until the server brought us salads.

  "Any leads on where Adam Morton has got off to?" I said.

  "Not yet," Mike said. "But my guess is he is still on the island."

  "What makes you so certain?" I said.

  "We have alerts out to all the airports," Mike said. "He can't get a commercial or charter flight out. And, there have been no stolen helicopter reports."

  "No stolen planes?" I said.

  "We aren't concerned about that," Mike said. "We checked his records. He only flies helicopters."

  "There are heaps of helicopter tour operators on Oahu," I said. "Morton could get off the island that way."

  "We've got that covered. We've taken flyers with Morton's photo and description to all the tour operators. A helicopter wouldn't do him much good anyway."

  "How so?" I said.

  "He couldn't get far in a helicopter. According to the owner of one tour operator I spoke with a chopper has a range of around 300 nautical miles. That’s enough to get to any of the eight major islands in the chain, but not even close to enough to get away from Hawaii."

  "Where do you think he might have got off to," I said.

  "Hard to say," Mike said. "I expect he'd want to go someplace remote and out of the way. He'd want a place to lay low without attracting attention until he comes up with some plan to escape the islands. You could find places like that on any of the islands, even here on Oahu for that matter."

  "He does have heaps of cash," I said. "I suppose there are places in the islands if you know how to find them where you can get fake documents. If he got a fake passport, changed his hair, and say grew a beard, he might be able to slip past airport security."

  "Fake documents good enough to fool the TSA in this post 9/11 era would be a stretch not to mention expensive," Mike said. "It doesn’t seem logical Morton would want to spend a significant part of the money he’s got making his escape. Speaking of the money, it occurs to me I never asked you how much money Morton took."

  "It was $750,000," I said. "In a way that’s a lot, but it doesn't seem enough to pay for a lifetime on the run." I wasn’t sure why I had lied to Mike, telling him it was $750,000 instead of the full one million dollars.

  "It’s definitely more money than I could ever imagine having at one time living on a police detective’s salary."

  "Yep, more than I ever expect to have at one time too," I said. "What’s going to happen to Shaw’s estate now that his wife and daughter are also dead?"

  "From what I’ve heard, Douglas Shaw didn’t have any other living relatives," Mike said. "It’s conjecture at this point. But I’ve heard his money will end up going to the state unless a distant relative appears to make a claim."

  "That’s good in a way," I said. "At least if the money is never recovered, no flesh and blood person is going to suffer as a result."

  "Yes, but I’m sure the politicians here would prefer to see that money go into the state treasury," Mike said. "Along with the rest of Shaw’s estate."

  The server brought our entrees, and we were quiet for a bit while we ate. Mike ordered a second bottle of wine. I was more of a red wine person, but the Pinot Grigio was quite good.

  "This fettuccine is amazing," I said. "You chose quite a nice restaurant for us. Good on you."

  "Yes, the food is always great here. It’s one of my favorite restaurants here in Honolulu. There are some others I’d love to take you too, but I thought this one would be a good start."

  After dinner and after we had finished the last of the second bottle of wine Mike invited me to cross the road and take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. I took off my shoes, and the wet sand felt amazing on my bare feet.

  "It’s such a super evening, I’m surprised there aren’t more people on the beach," I said. "We almost have it all to ourselves."

  "There is a city ordinance against being on the public beaches after dark," Mike said. "But in the interest of tourism enforcement isn't exactly strict."

  "I suppose that would be bad for the tourist trade," I said.

  "It’s a little late for a movie, but I’m not ready to say goodnight," Mike said. "What else would you like to do?"

  "The wine you picked for us at dinner was awesome," I said, "but I could do with a proper cocktail. We could go back to my hotel for drinks. There are some nice bars there."

  "Sounds like a plan," Mike said.

  I put my shoes on, and we made our way back to where Mike had parked the Jeep, and he drove us back to the hotel. I led the way to the bar with outdoor seating that I had visited before. Mike had the traditional Mai Tai, and I ordered a Coconut Mojito.

  After our second round, bored of sweet rum drinks, we changed it up. Mike switched to scotch, and I started drinking tequila shots with lime and salt. With a little persuasion, I got Mike on board with the shots too. It reminded me of the first time Malone, and I had gone drinking. I was feeling a bit buzzy, but the thoughts of Malone had me packing a bit of a sad at the same time. Mike seemed to pick up on the vibe.

  "Are you tired?" Mike said.

  "Yep, a bit, actually," I said. "Damn concussions. I’m still not my old self yet."

  "Could be it's not a great idea to drink so much until you get over the concussions," Mike said.

  "Oi, I haven’t had that much to drink," I said. "And, thanks for not monitoring my liquor intake unless you want to wind me up. I’m a big girl, and us Kiwis like our drinks. It’s something I’m quite capable of sorting for myself."

  Mike winced a bit under the sudden barrage. "I’m sorry, T. J.," he said. "I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I’m only concerned about you that’s all."

  "No, worries then mate," I said. "All good."

  It wasn’t that I was angry with Mike. But the discussion about my drinking had soured my mood. To be fair, I had already started leaning towards the irritable side of things. The tingling in my bits I’d felt earlier when we were walking on the beach was now long gone. I knew that finishing the date beneath the sheets in my bed wasn’t happening.

  "I am feeling a bit knackered," I said. "I should call it a night and get some rest."

  "I understand," Mike said. "Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevator."

  "Ahkay," I said. I was thankful that he hadn’t said he would walk me to my room since I had already decided the date was over. I didn’t want the evening to end with drama at the door to my room.

  At the lift, I pushed the button for my floor. While we waited, I leaned in and gave Mike a quick peck on the lips and then a hug. "It was lovely," I said. "Thanks for that. I hope we can do it again when I’m feeling a bit more flash."

  "Sure, I’d like that," Mike said. "In fact, if you’re free for dinner tomorrow evening I’d love to take you to another restaurant on my list of favorites."

  "I’m keen to have dinner with you again soon," I said. "
But not tomorrow evening, actually. I’ve been here a week and haven’t seen any of the sights. I'm planning to do a bit of sightseeing tomorrow, and I’ll get back late. How about the day after?"

  "Okay, sure, the day after would be great," Mike said.

  "Sweet as," I said. The doors opened, and I got on the lift. "See you," I said.

  "Goodnight, and sleep well," Mike said.

  "Ta," I said. The doors closed and the lift started up.

  Chapter 23

  AT SEVEN-THIRTY IN the morning, I parked the rental motorbike in front of a squat one-story building. It was on John Rodgers Field in Kapolei. There was a bright yellow Robinson R44 Raven II helicopter parked on a pad beside the building. A sign out front identified the facility as Hele Aku Aviation. I'd selected the flying service at random during a web search. I liked the website.

  Walking into the building, I spied a slightly built brunette. She looked to be about my age and was sitting behind a gray metal desk. She was wearing a red baseball cap and a tan Nomex flight suit. She looked up at me from behind a computer screen when I walked in.

  "May I help you?" she said.

  "Yes, I'm looking to hire a helicopter," I said.

  "You've come to the right place," the woman said. "I'm Jackie Fitzgerald, the owner, and chief pilot. Transportation or freight?"

  "Transportation," I said.

  "How many passengers?" Fitzgerald said. "Three is the max. My bird is a four-seater."

  "Only me," I said.

  "Where do you want to go?" Fitzgerald said.

  "Well, there's a bit of a story to that, Ms. Fitzergarld," I said.

  "Then have a seat and tell me about it," Fitzgerald said, motioning to the lone chair in front of the desk. "And you can call me Jackie."

  "Great, a pleasure meeting you, Jackie," I said. "I'm T. J. O'Sullivan."

  "You're not from around here are you?" Jackie said.

  "No. I live in LA, but I'm from New Zealand, actually."