The Lei Crime Series: Black Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 2

  Flipping it over, Natasha didn’t see anything else there other than the printed number for the business and a picture of some scuba gear along the bottom of the card. The edge was frayed and for that reason alone, she didn’t just toss it aside. Ashlee had the habit of thumbing a corner of a paper she was interested in.

  Placing it on her knee, she continued to pack the rest of Ashlee’s things. Only once that had been completed and the suitcase sat by the door, did she pick up her phone, log into the internet, and type in the business name on the card.

  She wished for her laptop but this would work in a pinch. Staring at the address, she grabbed her hotel key and wallet, heading out the door before she could change her mind.

  At the front desk, she waited for the concierge.

  “How may I help you?”

  “I need a ride over to Molokai.”

  The clerk nodded and proceeded to explain the easiest way for her to get there.

  Natasha’s stomach didn’t settle until she actually set foot on the island and paid her taxi the fare as she was dropped off outside OT’s Rental Company.

  She worked to hide her sneer. This place wasn’t anything to write home about. Hell, he may as well be working out of his trailer. The place would be better called a shack.

  A door slammed and a man walked around the corner.

  The air shot from her lungs and she struggled to find her breath. Holy crap. Tall and fit wearing nothing more than a pair of dark blue shorts that hung teasingly low on lean hips. He had a swagger she instantly became mesmerized by.

  “Can I help you?”

  His deep voice took her mind down roads it shouldn’t go. Grateful her sunglasses blocked the knowledge he had of the way she stared at him, she took one more perusal of his physique. From the inky black hair cut short on the back and sides but a bit longer on the top, along the scruff lining that determined jawline. Broad shoulders, defined abdominals and the farther down, she looked the more she appreciated what she saw. “I’m looking for the owner.”

  He leaned his head forward so he could stare at her over the rims of his mirrored rectangular Tommy Hilfiger sunglasses. Light yet incredibly intense blue eyes stared out at her, a striking difference from his tan skin.

  This guy reminded her in a sense of Heath Ledger, the same facial structure.

  He raked his gaze over her before his lips twitched. “You’ve got him, doll. What can I do for you?”

  A litany of inappropriate things danced along her tongue and she gulped a few times to ensure they never escaped. She held up the card.

  He pushed his glasses back up, hiding those orbs from her. Then he was suddenly in front of her and she nearly stepped back, his presence was overwhelming.

  “My business card.”

  Natasha nodded. “My friend had it. I want to know what she got from you?”

  “Doll, it’s a business card. I leave them all over the place. I may not have even given it to her.” He lowered his head again.

  Natasha could swear that he was scoping her out again.

  “Are you here to rent some equipment?”

  Absolutely. You and me. I’ll take at least an hour or three. We can go from there. I’ll just give you my card. She exhaled slowly and cocked an eyebrow. “Do you even have a name?”

  “It’s right there on the card. OT is what people call me.”

  “Of course they do.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you keep records or is this more of a cash organization that sometimes does and mostly doesn’t?”

  “Don’t let the surfer boy look fool you. I keep very good records.”

  “Perfect. Her name is—was Ashlee Obin. I want to know when she was here and what she rented.”

  He lost all joviality in his expression. “Was?”

  “She died. May I have the information please?”

  He thumbed over his shoulder to the shack. “In there.”

  Natasha followed him in and ignored the way he watched her as he pulled up the information.

  “She was here a few days ago. Rented some scuba gear.” He lifted his head.

  Once again, she was struck by how frickin’ powerful his eyes were. Almost eerie. His glasses had been tossed carelessly to the top of the table beside the computer. “What gear?” she asked.

  That eyebrow jacked up again. “Why?”

  “Because the cops didn’t have it and from your expression you do, which means someone dropped it off here after they killed her. And if it’s not been checked, I may be able to get something from it.”

  He scratched his jaw, clean square nails disappearing beneath the scruff lining the skin. “Why are you so sure it wasn’t as the cops said… an unfortunate accident?”

  Her need for the truth warred with her indecision to tell him anything. He could be in on this himself. Why else would he be hedging about what he knew? Then again, perhaps he was strictly curious. “Because she was an experienced diver, she never went without an extra bottle of air, even if she was merely free diving. She was a treasure hunter and was after something. What gear did she use? Also, her hotel was here and I identified her body on Maui. Why would she be staying over here and diving there?”

  He crossed strong arms, redirecting her attention for a moment away from the task at hand. “It’s a chain of islands, lots of people stay one place and go elsewhere.”

  “Not her, she wouldn’t want to waste time traveling when it would eat up dive time.” A spark of adrenaline hit her and she wondered if she’d finally stumbled onto something important and worthwhile.

  No one else might give a damn, and that’s not to say the detectives didn’t but they were okay with the findings.

  They didn’t know her like you did.

  Truth.

  He waved for her to follow him and she did, right into the back of the small shop. The warm Hawaiian air blew through, bringing with it the smell of the ocean and man.

  He stopped so suddenly, she ran into him. “Sorry,” she muttered, stepping back when all she wanted to do was step closer.

  In her mind, Ashlee cheered her on. She’d been all about finding and indulging in your passion and desires when the opportunity came.

  Not what I’m here for. I need answers so I can sleep at night.

  “Here we go.”

  Once more, she followed him, this time staying a bit further back.

  He set the gear down on the table and propped his hands on his hips. “I hadn’t cleaned it out yet.”

  “How long has it been here?”

  “Two days. I found it outside my shop one morning when I came in. I figured it was her returning it.”

  “You weren’t concerned with the fact she hadn’t brought it back prior?”

  He reached for two stools and pushed one in her direction before claiming the other one for himself. “No. Not at all. She paid cash, an obscene amount and said she wanted the gear for a while, was going out and may not get back before I closed. So to cover it, she paid for the gear outright, two extra tanks and some small individual air.”

  Natasha blew some of her hair away from her face as she inched the stool closer to the tank. “And none of that seemed suspicious to you? At all?”

  Chapter Three

  Oscar “OT” Tisdale watched the woman beside him as he reached for the gear that had been mysteriously dropped back off by his business. Closing his fingers around the fins, he inspected them as he mulled over her question. “Sure it did, but hell, everything she’d done wasn’t exactly above board. I didn’t give it another thought when the items were returned. I’ll admit, it wasn’t the smartest thing, but it wasn’t my place to pry.”

  She reached out for one of the gages, narrowed her eyes, and brought it closer. “Do you have a light?”

  No way was she asking so she could smoke a cigarette. Fumbling around with his left hand, he finally was able to shove the flashlight over toward her.

  She picked it up without looking away from the item in her hand. A noncommi
ttal grunt fell from her full, glossed lips.

  No color there like lipstick, not that he was looking, but a clear sheen that continually drew his gaze to them. Her medium nut hued skin and the tight ringlets of hair around her face were one hell of a distraction for him. Even as buttoned up and tense as she was. He knew there was a hellcat beneath it all. “What did you find?”

  “You clean this between each use?”

  “Always. This wouldn’t go out to anyone until I check over it and make sure everything is in tiptop running shape.” He then noticed a couple on their way up. Leaving the stool, he walked up to the front and rented them some jet skis. While the husband filled out the paperwork, he leaned his side against the edge of the counter.

  OT could still see her in his periphery and she worked diligently on the item she held in her hand. He cleared his throat and swiped is thumb along his lower lip as he waited for them to finish their paperwork. Her words—Natasha Zion’s words—wouldn’t leave him. ‘And none of that seemed suspicious to you?’

  Damn her!

  What people did with their own time wasn’t his concern. He didn’t open this shop to play parent. He had release forms that every renter had to sign. Again, not his job to make sure they actually read through them before signing.

  After getting the couple out of the way, he spun back and paused. Natasha still sat on the stool, the gage clutched in her hand, none of which concerned him. No, it was the tears spilling free.

  Spinning back toward the door, he called out, “Have fun.” It didn’t matter to him the couple had already walked away, he did it to give her some time. He straightened up the non-existent mess before returning to the back.

  Her tears no longer fell although her eyes remained suspiciously shiny,

  He gestured with his chin. “What did you find?”

  She slid the plate over.

  OT stared at it. Brow furrowing, he reached for the grain of sand there. “Sand. Sometimes gets into the equipment.” Even as the words left his mouth, he took a closer look. Something was off. “Black sand.” He shifted his attention to the Natasha.

  She waited for his gaze to meet hers. There wasn’t any judgement in her gaze, merely patience for him to expound. Then again, she may have been waiting for him to catch up with her thought process. “The area her body was found, the sand was what color? And based on the currents that day where she could have floated from?”

  Damn it.

  His investigative skills that had been burned out by his years in CID and lifeless for the past eighteen months flared to full on flames as if just exposed to oxygen.

  “That’s what I thought,” she muttered.

  His mind raced to the black sand beaches around here. There were a few, the closest being Awahua, what the locals called Black Sand Beach. Dangerous area that was accessible by hiking down a long difficult path. It’s where those who had Hansen’s disease had been kept in days past. The water down there often had dangerous rip currents.

  But if she was an experienced diver, she may have wanted to check that area.

  Natasha refocused her attention on the gage in her hand while he continued on the rest of the gear. No more black sand. Even more peculiar for there to have been a grain wedged in there, more should be present. Or other grains, instead of being clean. All of it had been cleaned.

  The sand she’d found had been overlooked. The question was by whom?

  “I need to make a call.” He backed away from the table and pulled out his cellphone. Scrolling through his contacts, he found the one he wanted and pressed the call button. With another look to the woman sitting alone before he put his back to her.

  “Chief Warrant Officer Tisdale. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Heard you’d left the Army. But if you’re calling me, you must need something.”

  He smiled. “Ms. Shaw. I could use some help in identifying the location of a beach a grain of sand was found on.”

  “You’re no longer CID, correct?”

  “Correct, I’m not active any longer.”

  “Then why would I help you?”

  “Because you’re intrigued as to why I’m asking for your assistance.”

  She snorted but he knew she’d been hooked. Leoni Shaw had to have been one of the nosiest people he’d ever met. He always figured that as a child, she went around with the question why on her lips. And it was everything she wanted to know more on, not solely one thing.

  “Damn you, OT.”

  He grinned. No doubt now, he had her. “I want an analysis on a grain of sand.”

  Behind him, he heard the stool slide over the floor of his shop and turned back.

  Ms. Zion was pacing, allowing his gaze to trail along her curves.

  And he approved of it all.

  “Why?”

  Her question yanked his focus from the dips and swells belonging to one Natasha Zion.

  “I’m curious,” OT answered. “I want to know where it’s from. Will you do it?”

  “Of course I will. You know I can’t refuse a mystery. Bring it by.”

  “On my way as soon as I close.” He ended the call and faced her once more.

  Ms. Zion stood in front of his wall staring at one of the few pictures he had up there.

  He walked to her side and gazed down at the top of her head. What did her curls feel like? They appeared soft and her hair smelled like lemon and mint. “I have a friend who can check the composition of the sand and narrow down a location.”

  “Military huh?”

  He nodded unsure why the change of subject. “Yes.”

  “Finished honorably?”

  “Yes.” What was she getting at?

  “Do what you have to. I’m trusting you here because I don’t have another grain of sand. I’ll be by to find out what happened.” She was out the door and into a taxi he hadn’t even seen arrive before it pulled away.

  OT went to find the sand right there. He wanted to go now but didn’t close up for a while yet. The remaining hours inched by but once the gear had been returned, he was on his Harley heading to Leoni’s lab. He would head back to work after and clean the rest of the gear.

  No too much later, he was leaning against one of Leoni’s lab tables as she carefully inspected the grain.

  “This all you have?” Her inky hair sat piled on her head, a few tendrils falling around her face that showed off the stunning blend of Hawaiian and Japanese heritage.

  “Only one grain left behind.”

  “Better make it count then and not muck it up. What’s so important with this particular particulate?”

  “Murder.”

  While nothing had been proven that this was a homicide, his gut told him it was precisely that. Because I’m intrigued by Natasha? Is that why? Now wasn’t the time for his focus to be on that.

  “Explain. Because there’s been no chain of evidence here, OT, and I refuse to have my name dragged through the mud.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. More of a hunch on my end. Just starting to look into this.”

  “Your gut’s been spot on since I’ve known you. Plus, you wouldn’t risk my wrath for no reason.”

  He crossed his arms and grunted. Leoni’s wrath wasn’t anything to scoff at. The physical form may be petite but with her numerous belts in a variety of marital arts forms, she was a force of hurricane strength.

  She slanted her almond gaze at him. “Go. Stop lurking. I’ll notify you when I get something. I don’t want you hovering over my shoulder. It won’t make anything go faster and honestly, it annoys me when people do it.”

  He listened. Back on his bike, he took a leisurely ride to his shop, even stopping for a short meal.

  He pulled in the parking spot to his shop and killed the engine. As he walked around the front to the door, he stopped short. Beneath the lone light over the door to his place was Natasha.

  She faced away from him.

  OT cleared his throat, feeling slightly bad when she jumped.

  “I’m
good, as is my friend, but it’s still far too early for results to be in.”

  The cord of vulnerability he saw in her brown eyes raised every protective instinct he had to the highest level.

  “My hotel room was broken into.” Natasha wrung her hands together. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  This didn’t make it any better.

  αβ

  “The composition shows it came from an area around Molokai, not Maui.” Leoni yawned and he heard her moving around in her lab. He agreed, it was late, closing in on midnight. OT flicked his gaze to the woman crashed on the couch in the back of his shop. She lay still as death, beneath one of his button-down shirts.

  Then it hit him. Leoni’s words. “Around? Nothing more specific?”

  “It doesn’t match one hundred percent to the black sand found in that area. It’s higher composition in one area.”

  “Which is?”

  “I know you hate technical terms so basically this is closer to the source.”

  He walked to the door and leaned in the doorway. His mind whirled. Closer to the source. “Lava tube?”

  “It’s not uncommon for divers to find little underwater caverns they can pop into. She may have found one.”

  OT wasn’t one who typically put much credence in the whole treasure hunter. He wouldn’t chide you for doing it but it wasn’t his thing. His mind drifted to the woman who’d handed him a chunk of money to not ask questions. She’d been hard. Not in an unfeminine way but her eyes were suspicious. At the time, he figured and chalked it up to a bad past, not because she was worried for her life. Treasure hunters tended to have an enemy or two wanting what they were after. “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t access to the chemical composition of every lava tube around Molokai.”

  He picked up on the censure. “I know, I know. Ideas on where to look?”

  “Not other than the beach sand it’s similar to chemically.”

  That didn’t narrow it down very much. “There’s a hell of a lot of ocean out there.”

  “One other thing, Oscar.”

  The use of his first name snatched his attention from where it had once again wandered—toward the sleeping woman in his shop. “What?”