Chapter Two

Jim was floored by Lisa Ingram's announcement. For a moment he just sat there, stunned and appalled.

"Hello? Mr. Rockford, are you still there?"

Jim shook himself back to the present. "Yeah, I'm still here, but I don't get why you're calling me about something like this. I'm no friend of your husband's. And I'm already feeling pretty sour about having to come out here for the hearing after I was told my testimony wouldn't be needed."

"Well, you're not one of Dutch's favorite people, either, Mr. Rockford," Lisa retorted. "But you're already familiar with the case. And from what I've heard about you, you're fair and loyal to your clients. That's what we need."

"And not, uh, someone who'd set you up for a fall, like your loving husband does to so many people," Jim said sarcastically.

"Look." Lisa sounded putout, but there was also a tinge of pleading in her voice. "Alright, so Dutch has made his living organizing lots of deals that are, well, less than legal. Everyone knows that. But he didn't kill anyone!"

"Well, forgive me, Mrs. Ingram, but of course you'd think so," Jim returned. "It's obvious that you love your husband. Although I have to admit I honestly don't know why. How can you trust a man like that?"

"He's always been loyal to me," Lisa said angrily. "Mr. Rockford, all I'm asking is for you to hear us out before making the decision not to help us."

"I think I heard Dutch's defense in court," Jim said. "He thinks someone took his-slash-my gun while he was knocked cold."

"Someone did!"

"Probably another of his satisfied customers," Jim said. "And it was probably yet another one that took that potshot at him today."

"What about how some of his men turned against him?" Lisa pressed. "They did far more than what they were required by law. They voluntarily went to the district attorney and made up lies about Dutch!"

"Okay, yeah, that's weird," Jim said. "If it was really lies they were telling. But Mrs. Ingram, has your husband considered that maybe it's the Hawaiian Mafia that's after him? The Kimotto Brothers were part of it, even while they were working for him. And if the Mafia's responsible, I don't want to get mixed up in it. I've tangled with more than my share of Mafia boys."

"He's considered it," Lisa said. "Maybe it is them. But Dutch doesn't know their secrets! And if they were angry with him over a deal that fell apart, they could have done something to him long ago."

"Maybe they think he knows something he doesn't," Jim said. "Mrs. Ingram, I'm sorry about what happened to your husband today. But I'm not interested in taking his case or in doing anything to help him. You're right that I try to be fair and loyal to my clients. And I just don't think I could be loyal to someone who'd drop me in a millisecond if he realized it would be better for him if he did."

Silence. "Is that your final answer then?"

"Yes," Jim insisted. "I'm sure you can find help that's just as good elsewhere."

"Alright. And if you find out Dutch has been killed in the meantime, I hope you'll sleep well!" The phone disconnected, loudly. Jim pulled the receiver away from his ear with a wince.

"So you're not gonna help her?"

Jim looked up with a start at Rocky's voice. "Dad, the guy she wants me to help is a mercenary," he protested. "I've gotten into a lot of trouble because of him. I still don't know that he didn't try to frame me for a murder he committed. But what I do know is that he can't be trusted from here to the bathroom doorknob. Why would I want to help someone like that?"

"I don't suppose you would," Rocky agreed. "But you always seem to help that Angel Martin when he comes around. And he sure can't be trusted."

Jim sighed in exasperation. "Most of the time, I wish I hadn't helped him," he said. "It's bad enough always feeling like I have to get Angel out of his messes. The last thing I want is to deliberately plow into one of someone else's. Besides." He stood abruptly. "I'm not licensed to practice in this state. How could I take the case without causing a lot of trouble for myself as well as for Ingram?"

"Well . . . I guess that is a problem," Rocky said slowly.

"Of course it's a problem," said Jim. "Anyway, we're supposed to be trying to salvage a vacation out of this trip."

"You're right, Son," Rocky nodded. "And I've been looking forward to that."

"But you think I should help those people," Jim frowned.

"I didn't say that," Rocky said. "You're free to make your own decisions." He hesitated. "I just thought the girl sounded awfully sad when she called and I had to tell her you weren't in yet."

Jim already had that sinking feeling in his stomach. Somehow he knew that he was going to wind up on the Ingrams' doorstep that night, even if only to "hear them out". And somehow he knew it would end up turning into more than just "hearing them out".

Still, he tried to fight against fate. "Dad, there's any number of perfectly good private eyes based right here on the island," he said. "They can go hire one of them."

"Seems they want you instead," Rocky mused. "Or at least Mrs. Ingram does."

"That's another thing," Jim pounced. "Her husband thinks I'm a jarhead. I'm sure he doesn't want me looking into this."

"Well," Rocky said, "you could take the case to prove to him that you know what you're doing."

"I don't know what I'm doing!" Jim exclaimed. "I've never been in such a mixed-up case as I was when I met Ingram before. The last thing I want is to go through that again. I'd probably get myself killed and maybe you too." He headed for the door. "Now, what did you want to see today, Dad? Maybe we can work in at least some of the sites while it's still light."

Rocky trailed after him. "I made a list," he said, admittedly hopeful in spite of his concerns about the Ingrams.

"Great," Jim said. "Read it to me while we go downstairs."

He tried to concentrate on the list as they headed for the elevator, but it was proving difficult on several levels. He had been soured on Hawaii after all of his troubles there. To him, it wasn't a paradise at all. He had very little interest in touring the place, but he wanted to make his father happy.

Then there was this strange case that had popped up, the case that Rocky seemed to be trying to steer Jim towards even though he had been hoping for a nice vacation. Rocky was too soft-hearted for his own good.

The problem was, so was Jim.

After they were through seeing the sites, he was going to be visiting one more, on his own.

xxxx

"I told you Rockford wouldn't have any interest in our problems."

Lisa turned to look at Dutch, who was sitting in one of their wicker chairs and looking both annoyed and exasperated. The bandage on his left cheek stood out in the light.

"I know you told me," she said as she went to his side. "But I had to try. We don't know whom we can even trust down here! I'd put more faith in him than any of the detectives around here."

Dutch took her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. "I'll investigate myself," he said. "I trust myself, which is more than I can say about any of my men right now."

She stiffened. "Dutch, you can't! You'll get yourself killed." She reached for his hand and turned it over, running her fingers over his palm. "You've always left the dirty work to your men. You're not a fighter." She brushed the blond bangs away from his eyes. "You couldn't even take one punch from Rockford. That's how you got into this bloody mess in the first place."

"And that's the bloke you want to have look out for me," Dutch remarked. "Tell me something, Love. Would you like it better if I was a fighter?"

Lisa gave him a putout look. "Then you wouldn't be Dutch." She kissed him and rested her head against his shoulder. "I love you just the way you are. The only problem is, someone's trying to kill you just the way you are. And you can't possibly fight them off all by yourself."

"I'm not by myself; I've got you." Dutch spoke smoothly, brushing Lisa's long, dark hair away from her face. "You know a little of that Japanese martial art, after all."

"Karate," Lisa mumbled. She smirked a bit. "You don't feel embarrassed to have a wife who can fight when you can't?"

Dutch smirked too. "No." He leaned down and kissed her. "Actually, I'm rather proud of my record of not fighting."

Lisa smiled, fondly. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm still alive," Dutch pointed out. "You probably would have been a widow years ago if I was a real scrapper like my men."

Lisa fell silent. That only brought back to mind the horrible truth.

"I could have been one today," she said quietly.

Dutch sobered, holding her close. "It'll be alright, Love." He wanted to believe that. Part of him did.

It was just that at the moment, he didn't know how it would come to pass.

xxxx

The hotel suite was pleasantly furnished and sized to be comfortable for at least two people. Lou looked around in approval as he and Ginger were left alone with their luggage.

"This is a nice place," he proclaimed. He wandered ahead a bit, examining the living room area and the bedroom before also peering into the bathroom.

Ginger nodded, thoughtfully. He liked only the best and he intended to have it. After a childhood of poverty, he had determined to never sink back into that miserable state again. That was how he had ended up orchestrating jewel robberies. Now that he and Lou were going relatively straight, he missed the stimulation of the thefts but was quite satisfied with the money they were making at the company that had hired them back in spite of their felonies. They did good enough work that they had both been promoted recently, resulting in larger paychecks. Ginger was definitely pleased.

He snapped to attention at the sound of added voices. "Are you turning on the telly?" he grunted, coming to the bedroom doorway.

Lou was standing in front of the set, staring at the screen. "Ginger, look at this guy," he gasped. "He really does look like you!"

"And I thought I was the only one," Ginger deadpanned. He sauntered into the bedroom and stared for a moment at the image of a confidently smirking Dutch Ingram. ". . . I suppose there is a slight resemblance."

"Slight?! Ginger, you're letting your vanity get ahead of you. This guy could be your twin! He's even British, too." Lou shook his head. "This is just weird."

"You and your cousin Sylvester bear a certain resemblance as well," Ginger said. "They say everyone has a double."

"Yeah, but at least Syl and me are cousins," Lou retorted. "Resemblance among family members makes sense. Looking like some random guy off the street . . . now that doesn't make sense!"

Ginger shrugged. "Well, as long as we stay away from his part of the island, there shouldn't be any uncomfortable misunderstandings concerning the chaps who are trying to . . ."

The bullet tearing across the screen, followed by the screaming, horrified people, startled Ginger into silence. He and Lou both stared at the pandemonium ensuing outside the courthouse.

"And this was the scene less than two hours ago," the anchorwoman intoned. "A mysterious sniper opened fire on Dutch Ingram and then proceeded to elude the governor's elite 5-O taskforce. He is still at large."

"You hear that?!" Lou exclaimed. "Ginger, that guy could be anywhere! And if he just happens to get a good look at you . . ."

"He might make a fatal mistake," Ginger finished with a frown. "Alright, there is a danger of that, I'll grant you. But we can't lock ourselves in our room and forgo this meeting. It's important."

"Yeah, I know it is," Lou frowned. "But maybe we'd better stay here until it's time for it. If he sees you, Buddy, he could take a shot at you right off the bat! He probably wouldn't wait to try to find out more; he wouldn't think he had any reason to."

"It depends on how efficient he is, I suppose," Ginger said. "If he didn't recognize you from his prior information, perhaps he would take the time to do a bit of research."

"It's not worth taking a chance." Lou began to pace the room in agitation before stopping near the phone. "Hey, maybe I'll call this 5-O and see if they have any leads yet."

Ginger shrugged. "Go ahead. Although it will likely result in them wanting to come down here and speak with us. They might think you're the sniper, checking to see if they're getting close to capturing you."

Lou paused. "You're right." He grabbed the receiver. "But I'll be happy to let them in on everything. Maybe they'll give you some protection or something."

"Perhaps." Ginger went and laid on one of the beds, spreading his trenchcoat over himself like a blanket as he listened to Lou pecking out the buttons on the phone.

Lou glanced to him. "I thought you'd complain about that," he remarked.

Ginger shrugged. "If it will make you feel better, I don't have any particular objection."

Lou smiled a bit, but he had the feeling that was not Ginger's only reason. Deep down, even if he wouldn't admit it, he was probably worried too.

And that only made Lou worry more.

xxxx

It was after dinner when a half-hearted knock came at the Ingrams' door. Both Dutch and Lisa looked up in a bit of surprise as well as apprehension.

"I'm not expecting anyone," Lisa said. "Are you, Dutch?"

"No." Dutch stood, crossing to the window and cautiously peering out through the curtain. He stiffened. "It's Rockford!"

Lisa stared. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." Dutch moved to the door and unlocked and opened it. "Well, Spunky, we'd given up on your coming," he grinned in greeting.

Jim sighed. "So did I. I don't even know that I think you didn't do it. I think you'd do just about anything to protect your little investments. But I figured I could come down here and just hear if you have anything interesting to say for yourself."

"Well, come on in and we'll talk about it," Dutch said, holding the door open wider.

Jim stepped into the entryway. "You're pretty chipper, considering you really don't even want me in on this any more than I want to be in on it," he remarked.

Dutch shrugged and locked the door. "Well, Lisa wants you, and after all, she is my better half." He smiled. "I figure on trusting her judgment. At least a little ways, anyway."

"I'm just here to talk," Jim emphasized. "I didn't say I'd help out."

"Of course, Spunky, of course." Dutch patted him on the shoulder and headed for the living room. Sighing, Jim followed.

Lisa met them in the doorway. "Mr. Rockford!" she smiled. "You've had a change of heart."

"I just came to hear what you've got," Jim said. "I figured you must have something more than what you brought out in court."

"That's right, Love, in case the hearing went on longer or even made it to trial," Dutch said. "We had to save some ammunition for then, after all."

Jim shook his head. He would never cease to be weirded out by Dutch's choice of nicknames for him.

Ignoring Jim's expression, Dutch went to a desk and unlocked the drawer. He pulled it out, extracting a large manila envelope. "This is it." He handed it to Jim. "Go ahead—sit down. Look it over."

Jim started to open the flap as he walked to the couch. As he lowered himself into the cushions, he pulled out the contents. For the most part it was a collection of photographs, with several typed sheets of paper and a cassette tape thrown into the mix. Setting those on the coffee table, he focused on the pictures.

"Who are these clowns?" he frowned. The images of several people talking, with some in loud Hawaiian shirts and others in fancy suits, meant very little to him.

Dutch and Lisa sat on either side of him. "Well, see this one here, this shows some of my supposedly loyal lackeys having a cozy little chat with the representatives from the Vietnamese government," Dutch said, tapping the top picture.

"Isn't that what they were supposed to do?" Jim sighed.

"Well, I was supposed to be present on the scene, see?" Dutch said.

"And you weren't," Jim deduced.

"I was, in a manner of speaking." Dutch tapped the corner of the picture. "See that bit of white there? That's my trousers. I'm having a little induced kip while they're gabbin' away."

"Ohh. That was when I punched your lights out." Jim frowned at the picture. "They sure don't seem too concerned what happens to you. Who was taking the picture?"

"One of the blokes what woke me up after they left," Dutch said. "He snapped the picture because he thought somethin' seemed off."

Jim went through the rest of the pictures. They showed the same people talking in various locations. The final shot showed a suspiciously bulky envelope passing from the Vietnamese to Dutch's men.

"And you figure this is what?" Jim asked. "A payoff for making sure you get cut out of their deal altogether?"

"Something like that," Dutch nodded. "Either by framing me or killing me. Or both."

Jim set the photographs down and picked up the tape. "And this?"

"I recorded that," Lisa said. "One of Dutch's men was talking on the phone, practically confessing to being part of a conspiracy to murder him." She got up and retrieved a cassette player and brought it back. Slipping the tape inside, she pressed Play.

"I understand the deal," the voice was saying. "I know what I'm supposed to do. But what if he suspects? . . . Hey, he's not that easy to knock off. He's not a fighter, but he knows things. If he finds out about this other deal going on behind his back . . ."

"Then the other person disconnected." Lisa stopped the tape and folded her arms. "I confronted him, but of course he bloomin' denied that he meant what it sounded like."

"And now he's gone missing," Dutch said. "The prosecutor was trying to put that one on me, too."

"Oh, you mean saying that you'd knocked him off because you thought he was going to knock you off?" Jim frowned. "I didn't hear anything like that in court. And you said that you hadn't introduced any of this stuff yet."

"The hearing went on for a day or so before they sent for you, Spunky," Dutch said. "We didn't intro any of this stuff officially, but during a meeting between my solicitor and the D.A., the D.A. mentioned this chap couldn't be found for questioning and we played the tape for him. Tapes aren't generally admissible as court evidence, see, since they're just recorded voices that can't be cross-examined."

"Uh huh." Jim frowned.

"And that's when he accused Dutch of murdering Devon," Lisa said. "The nerve of him! You see, don't you, Mr. Rockford? My Dutch is the victim in all this madness, but he's the one being blamed!"

"He could be," Jim agreed. "Or you could've cooked up all of this just for my and the district attorney's benefit."

He picked up the sheets of paper. "These are just a bunch of names. Are these the people you think might be involved?"

"The ones at the top of the list are the ones from the photographs," Dutch said. "That one's Devon, the one on the tape." He indicated one of the men in the top picture. "But I thought I should make a list of everybody else who might have had a hand in things. Right now we don't know that we can trust anyone."

"You must have listed everybody you've ever made a crooked deal with," Jim objected in disbelief.

"These are mostly just lackeys, past and present," Dutch said. "Including the ones who were singing to the D.A. And a few of the blokes I've been dealing with currently."

Jim leafed through the pages. "A few?! The Colonel was right that you've been double and triple-dealing with just about every country under the sun!"

Dutch shrugged. "It's a living."

Lisa watched Jim. "Well, what do you think, Mr. Rockford?" she asked, still hopeful.

Jim stood, still holding the papers. "I said I'd hear what you had to say. I didn't say I'd take the case. There's some other problems with me doing that too, like the little matter of not having a license to practice in Hawaii."

Lisa's eyes filled with discouragement. "You won't take it then?"

"I don't know. Whatever I decide, I'll have to figure out how to work it without getting myself into a mess with the local police. I'd like to talk with some of the other people involved before I do anything else." Jim headed for the door. "I'll look these over some more and see what I can find out about them."

"Will that be costing your normal fee, then, Spunky?" Dutch wondered.

Jim paused. "Not until I know if you've got a case," he said. "But if I find out you've been wasting my time, Dutchy-boy, I might just end up charging you double the normal fee."

Lisa scowled when he left. "He's perfectly unpleasant," she declared. "Maybe I made a mistake in sending for him."

But Dutch leaned back, thoughtful. "Oh, I don't know about that, Love," he mused. "He knows how valuable one's time is. We might just get along at that."

"He might not even take the case," Lisa protested.

"That's only if he decides there isn't one," Dutch said, drawing Lisa close to him. "And I think he's got enough of an open mind that he'll find the truth instead. You must have thought the same thing, or you wouldn't have sent for him."

Lisa smiled, settling into his embrace. "True."

Dutch kissed her. "As far as I'm concerned, we don't have a bleedin' thing to worry about."