Nick Stevens was seething.
He weaved through the traffic in Honolulu by instinct, barely seeing most of it past the angry haze that filled his mind. Now he was going to have to head out to the plantation, and talk to Seb about delaying tonight's shipment.
Today had been going so well, right up to when he'd visited Ted Morkot. You'd think the man would be grateful to have work, and the money it brought in, but all he did was complain.
Stevens sighed and shook his head.
The world was full of idiots. Starting with Lewis Harrison.
They'd known each other since high school, and yet, somehow, Lewis still thought that Nick was in the landscaping business because it was his lifelong dream. How could Lewis have missed the fact that he, Nick, was only in any business for the money?
This morning, he'd spent two hours in the office, sorting out paperwork. Then, he'd spent more hours going from one supplier to another, looking for the frequently ridiculous accoutrements that people wanted to put in their gardens. Concrete benches, fake Greek statues, overblown gazebos and archways for trailing vines – did none of those people ever stop and truly look at their gardens?
Oh well, at least he could charge them exorbitant prices for what they wanted.
But not exorbitant enough.
Over the years he'd spent in honest business, he'd also learned that being honest didn't make you rich. And rich was what he wanted to be.
If getting rich took bending a few laws, and breaking a few kneecaps … well, he'd found he could live with that.
Which brought him right back to Ted Morkot, and this afternoon's visit to the docks.
The first few shipments hadn't been a problem, but now, every time he called the man to organise another delivery run, there were concerns. Hold-ups, delays, endless phone calls.
Every time, he had to pay another visit to the docks and reinforce the facts of the agreement that he'd made with Morkot. People were starting to notice his visits, he was sure. Especially that woman at the next dock.
Today, he'd actually been worried when two other vehicles had followed him to the docks. The fact that they went past Morkot's boat to the next pier hadn't really eased his worries, until he'd seen that woman who ran the salvage operation hugging the two guys who'd been driving those cars. Clearly friends of hers, but still a concern for him.
He didn't need more people seeing him at the docks; not when he might need to deny ever being there in the first place. In spite of the fact that he'd told Morkot, more than once, that there was to be no trail of connections between the two of them, he was seeing more of the man now than he had when he'd first started making use of Morkot's boat.
It was time he got a new burner phone out of his stash, too. The one he was currently using had too many calls listed from Morkot's number.
Not to mention the messages he'd been forced to send to that meddling detective.
And how a detective had come to be nosing around his operation, he'd yet to find out. But find out he would, and when he did, whoever had leaked enough information to attract police attention would be very sorry. For the last five minutes of his painful existence.
At least the police hadn't been nosing around the pier yet. If he had to, he could move the processing operations to another farm, or another warehouse. It would be a major headache to deal with, but it could at least be done quickly. He had reliable men to control that side of the operation for him.
After all, if Seb hadn't been paying attention last week, he would never have known about that nosy detective. And Seb had been smart enough, for once, not to do anything other than observe and pass the information on to him.
He'd taken care of that situation easily enough. It had been expensive, but there was a lot more money to be made from his little side business. Especially as he knew that Lewis was far too dumb to find the money he was funnelling through H&S Landscapers; he hadn't noticed it yet, and it wasn't likely that he would any time soon. If he did have to move his warehouse, he would only have to delay one shipment. Sure, it would slow him down right now, but it wouldn't derail his long-term plans.
That thought finally managed to calm him down enough that his anger started to ease. He took a good look around and realised that he'd already left the city centre and was heading out towards the plantation.
He dropped his speed until anyone who saw him would think that he was just heading into the countryside for a pleasant afternoon drive. The last thing he wanted to do was attract more police attention by getting a speeding fine.
He cruised along the road, enjoying the way the Mercedes handled on the curves. The road emptied out behind him, and he looked back a couple of times, seeing only a couple of vehicles behind him – some sort of tourist transport van, a red hatchback and, much further back, a silver sports car.
A few minutes later, the hatchback turned off the road. The van stuck with him, though, and an uneasy feeling started to creep down his spine. There was no reason for tourists to come all the way out here – there was nothing particularly interesting to see and no major attractions to visit. Unless they wanted to go hiking.
Then the van slowed and pulled to the side of the road, near an access road to one of the local hiking trails. He felt his shoulders relax. He was simply being paranoid.
Far back, he could see the silver car, but paid no attention to it. He didn't think it was a concern, but he'd learned over the last year to be cautious.
He accelerated slightly, checking the mirror to see what the silver car was doing. At first, it seemed to be trying to match his speed, and the worry kicked up a notch again. But then it fell slightly further behind again, and he caught himself laughing.
He would bet good money that the driver of that car was doing just what he did on roads like this, far from town: he was letting his car off its leash and indulging his desire to go faster than the law allowed.
Even so, prevention was better than cure, so he'd prefer if no-one knew precisely where he was going. So he pushed harder on the accelerator, going around the next curve at a much-increased speed, then immediately braking sharply before turning onto a hidden side road.
He let the car crawl along the narrow road, knowing that would cut down on the noise of the engine. It would also stop him leaving a dust trail by spinning up the loose sand that had blown across the narrow strip of tarmac. He followed the well-hidden road as it headed deeper through the trees, heading for the plantation.
Seb would be waiting for instructions. And Seb knew better than to disobey, or to fail at carrying out his orders.
After all, Seb had been present when Seb's predecessor, Larry, had tried thinking for himself. The memory of that day brought a cold smile to Nick's face.
He hadn't known, until then, just how good Seb was at digging a grave.
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Magnum pulled the Ferrari key from his pocket and pulled up the map on his phone. The blinking dot showing Katsumoto's phone was holding steady. He watched for a moment, but clearly, wherever he was and whatever he was doing, Katsumoto seemed to have no plans to move.
Or he was unable to move, which was Magnum's biggest concern. And judging by the look on Juliet's face, she shared that concern.
"It's going to take me at least forty-five minutes to get there." Magnum lifted the phone slightly to indicate the location.
"More like an hour, Magnum." Higgins said, shooting him a stern look.
"I'm going to take the back roads." Magnum told her, seeing the disbelief grow in her eyes. "And yes, before you ask, I may go a little faster than the recommended limit."
"Normally I would suggest you try to restrain yourself, but in this case," Higgins sighed quietly, "I can only ask, what recommended limit?"
Magnum stared at her for a moment, speechless, then burst out laughing.
"I never thought I'd see the day!"
Higgins kept a poker face for a moment, then laughed as well. "Well, the circumstances are a little different this time. And should Katsumoto indeed be in some sort of difficulty, as we fear, I will even undertake to pay any fine you may incur this afternoon."
"I'll hold you to that, Juliet." Magnum smiled as he turned to leave.
"Be safe, Thomas." The quiet words followed him to the car, lingering as he turned out of the estate and pressed down hard on the accelerator.
Forty minutes later, he was getting near the marker on his phone. It hadn't moved at all since he'd left Robin's Nest, and he was no longer sure that was a good thing. What if it wasn't moving because the detective wasn't capable of moving? What if …
"Not going there." Magnum muttered out loud. "He's fine. He has to be."
Five minutes later, he slowed the car to a crawl, watching both sides of the narrow strip of pavement. There was no sign of another car anywhere, so he checked his phone again.
The blinking dot was slightly to the left of his current position. He stopped and looked more closely at the area next to the road. Definitely no Katsumoto. Perhaps his phone was lying in the undergrowth at the side of the road?
Magnum eased forward again, hoping to find enough space alongside the road to pull off and stop. A broader sandy area caught his attention, only yards ahead of him and he eased the Ferrari slowly onto the open space.
But then he realised that what he'd thought was simply a sandy area was actually the turning onto a dirt road, one that turned sharply back on the trajectory of the road and then snaked off into the trees growing in clusters twenty yards from where he sat.
He looked at the marker on his phone again, calculating distances in his head, coming to the conclusion that Katsumoto's phone was probably about six hundred yards into those trees. He tipped his head to one side, wondering whether to send Higgins a message now, or rather wait until he had eyes on Gordon.
After a moment, he decided to wait until he had something definite to pass on. Then he turned the Ferrari onto the sandy track and crept along it, keeping his speed at only a few miles an hour. Whatever was down this road, there was no point advertising his presence with a dust cloud.
Just under six hundred feet from the turning, he spotted a dust-covered black car. It was pulled as far off the track as possible, and tucked between two large trees. Obviously, Katsumoto hadn't wanted to be seen either.
Magnum followed the detective's example, pulling the Ferrari between the next two trees with a sufficient gap between them. Killing the engine, he slid out of the car and pocketed the keys. He closed the map on his phone and dropped the device into his other pocket.
He headed over to the black car, walking all the way around it first. No broken windows, flat tyres, or any indication of damage from an accident. Then he moved close enough to look in the windows.
Nothing lying in view on the seats or floor, no signs of a struggle of any kind. And no sign of Gordon, either.
Magnum looked around, taking in the silence of the area. He strained his ears, but caught no sounds of anything other than birds in the trees. There had to be something more to see here, but he was at a loss to say what it was.
Playing a hunch, he headed past the two cars, heading deeper into the trees. Moments later, he hit pay dirt.
He looked behind him and realised that the cars were now hidden behind foliage, which was why he hadn't seen this fence from where he'd parked. Not that it was much of a fence, with sections of the wire rusting and barely clinging to the fenceposts. Then again, it wasn't very likely that anyone would stumble across the fence in the course of a normal day, so the lack of security probably wasn't an issue.
Still, it proved that there was something on the other side of this hill and whatever that was, it was most likely where Gordon had gone.
Magnum walked slowly along the fence, ducking low-hanging branches and keeping an eye out for roots and trailing vines. The last thing he needed to do was trip, make a noise and get noticed by whoever was on the other side of the fence.
A few hundred feet later, the fence gave way to an equally rusty gate. Which was still firmly padlocked shut. Magnum lifted the padlock and turned it over to see the keyhole, which shone brightly in the sunshine that lit the open section of dirt track in front of the gate.
So the rust on the padlock was just for show. Magnum leaned on the gate to stare further down the track, squinting to focus on a flash of bright light in the shadows thirty feet away. The light resolved into lines and Magnum realised suddenly that he was looking at another gate, this one in good repair.
Two gates on the same dirt road suggested that something on the other side was valuable. Leaving the outer fence in a deliberately run-down state further suggested that while whatever was on the other side of the two fences was valuable, it might also not be completely legal.
There were no footprints on the road between the two gates, so Katsumoto hadn't been there. Magnum headed back along the fence to where he'd come from, pausing for a moment at that spot before heading further along the fence in the opposite direction.
The fence curved sharply around the trunk of a massive tree, and when Magnum rounded the tree, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.
The rusted wire had been pulled free of the fencepost and bent back far enough that someone could slip through the gap. And that someone, no doubt, was Katsumoto.
"Breaking and entering." Magnum chuckled quietly. "Just wait until you ask me how I got into a locked building again, Gordy."
Still smiling, he ducked through the gap and headed further into the wooded area, keeping a sharp eye out for any type of security systems, or cameras. But the trees stayed empty of surveillance, and about thirty feet in, he found the second fence. This fence was still whole, so he headed further away from the gate.
A few minutes later, he found that the rest of the fence was nothing but fenceposts, with rolls of wire lying nearby. It was obviously still under construction, which probably also explained the lack of other security measures. A week from now, and the situation would no doubt be very different. But right now, the incomplete fence was a gift.
He stepped between two fenceposts and headed back the way he'd just come, until he could see the two gates in front of him. Rather than step into the open, he stayed inside the tree line while following the dirt track over the crest of the hill and down towards the coffee plantation.
The trees soon petered out, with only scattered shrubbery covering the open area ahead of him. On the other side of this patch of open ground was the sorriest excuse for a barn that he'd ever seen. Although it stood two stories high, the wood was so rotted that sunlight shone through it, and the huge door at the one end hung by a single hinge.
Nothing moved, so after five minutes, he dashed from the treeline to the barn, plastering himself to the closest wall and waiting for any indication that he'd been spotted. When he heard nothing, Magnum eased around the end of the barn and crouched down to make himself a smaller target. For a second, he cursed his red and white shirt, knowing that it made him a more visible target.
In the far distance, he could see the full plantation, with a number of workers out amongst the trees. He could also see another gate, clearly the main entrance to the plantation, and he watched as a truck drove in and parked next to some pallets piled high with bags.
A few workers started loading the bags onto the truck and Magnum guessed that they were bags of coffee beans.
Between that busy scene and where he was, he could see another barn. It was much bigger and newer than the one he was crouched next to, and clearly in use, based on the tyre tracks leading to the doors.
"Here goes nothing." The murmur was out before he even thought about it, and then Magnum was moving, hurrying across the open area to flatten himself to the back wall of the new barn.
He could hear voices and although he strained his ears to make out the words, he simply couldn't hear what was being said. But the tone was clearly one of anger.
Another voice answered and Magnum froze. That was Katsumoto's voice.
He moved further along the wall, towards the open door, easing behind the door itself to look through the gap below the massive hinges.
There were piles of packing crates near the far wall of the barn, most of them already sealed and ready for shipping. But in the middle of the floor, there were three open crates, full of what looked like dry, black twigs. And just beyond those crates, he could see Katsumoto.
The detective was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a dark blue t-shirt. The clothes were streaked with dirt and what looked like a bruise was blooming on his friend's face.
Now the words came clear.
"This is illegal." Katsumoto waved a hand towards the crates, speaking to the man behind him.
That man – tall, dark-haired and wearing dirty jeans and a torn, plaid shirt – chose that moment to step out from behind Katsumoto.
A chill chased down Magnum's spine as he watched the man shove Katsumoto hard in the back with a large handgun. The detective stumbled and fell to one knee, immediately standing up again. A second later, the man whipped the gun across the back of Katsumoto's head, and the detective collapsed to the floor.
The tall man made short work of dragging Gordon across the floor to the far corner of the open floor space.
Magnum pulled his phone from his pocket, pulling up the messaging app and starting to type a Mayday to Higgins.
Instinct made him freeze and start to turn before he even heard the tell-tale scuff of a shoe on the dirt behind him. But the warning came too late.
Something hit him hard across the side of the head, and he could feel himself sliding to the ground. He tried to force himself upright, but his body simply refused to follow his brain's commands.
His fingers clenched around his phone, sliding across the screen before the device fell from his suddenly nerveless hand to land on the ground. Everything faded into the encroaching darkness and then went black.
The light on the screen slowly faded out, but he was unaware that all he'd managed to send to Higgins were three worrying words.
'Found Gordon. Need …'
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