ch3 pg 15-16

I sat at my desk and watched the rain form ringlets in the water that had gathered on my lanai. Something an old girlfriend said came back to me: when the rain falls, the grass gets wet. I never quite figured out what she meant, but it seemed to meam something now.
Samantha hadn't known who the juice was being paid to. The juice money was "donated" to a known group as operating expenses. Whether it was gambling or just a bar and grill, you had to pay to operate. Who Greenie was paying off to business was probably part of the problem. If they found out about what I think Greenie was up to, then it was big trouble. I wasn't looking forward to checking it out.
I reached for the phone. "Mark, I'm going to need the Rover in a couple of minutes. Do me a favor and see what Kua is up to."
"They're all pretty busy today Mr. Darling. You know the rain and all, keeps the guests inside." Mark paused. "I don't think Kua has much to worry about at the moment. I'll see if I can find him."
Kua worked hotel security. He was also and ex-cop. I was about to get back into the game and it would be nice to have some help.
"Also have the kitchen pack us some food. We'll be gone for a few hours."
The cold tiles of the bathroom floor sent a chill up my back as I stripped down and entered the shower. The steam began to fog the glass as I stood under the hot water.
Standing under the shower cleared my head. The steaming rain falling down on me brought things into perspective. A couple of things bothered me: the disappearence of Greenie and the arrival of such a large sum of money. If you were a bookie, you just didn't disappear in the middle of the playoffs and bowl games. This was your money time.
If Greenie had sent Samantha the money, what was it for? Why send it to her and not just hand it over? You put it in the mail if you wanted to hide it for a few days. If that was the reason, what had made him do it? It seemed to me that it was either part of a payoff or part of a lay off.
The fact that Chucky was missing meant that he probably had something to do with this too. He was probably in the same situation as Samantha. He would be laying low, waiting for Greenie to make the next move.
Maybe the juice money he paid wasn't enough or maybe Greenie wasn't paying it all. Those were all good enough reasons for him to make an exit.
The steam drifted out of the bathroom as I toweled myself off. I brushed my teeth and watched the mirro clear as I shaved. Samantha and her story had me worried. It was so full of holes you could have driven a truck through it. I remembered that it was never good to believe the first version.
What parts of her story were made up and what parts were true? Small details and things she had forgotten would start to come out later. Maybe even whole parts of her story would change. What little she told me would have to be enough for now.
Jeans, a tee shirt and a windbreaker seemed to be the appropriate dress for the day. Anything more formal would have meant business in the islands.
I checked myself in the mirror and saw a thirty eight year old guy of medium build who looked like he needed a haircut. I was getting too old to be running around this rock looking for missing gamblers. Then again, everyone needs a hobby.

ch2 pg 13-14

WHAT Samantha, Greenie and Chucky did was open up a house. The house controlled all the bets that the bookies and runner turned in. They set up their own betting line. It was based upon the same line everyone else had, it was just that they modified it according to the action that was coming in.

Suppose on Tuesday, team A was favored over team B by six. Everyone was betting on the favorite, team A, so much so that there was no place to lay off the difference. Now the houses simply raised the line to create some action on team B. On Wenesday, team A was no favored by seven and a half. Now the people who were waiting for just a thing to happen put their action in. They thought that team A would win, but not by more than a touchdown. If they were team B bettors, they were waiting to get that extra one and half points. They hoped team B would at least play close and the extra points would provide their winning margin.
The object of the house was to take equal amounts of action on both teams, that way they made the juice without any risk. The juice money could be used to actually gamble on certain games.
Tiger Shark cames, I thought.
"Samantha, do you have any direct contact with snyone other than Greenie?"
"Just Chucky and Greenie. Oh, I used to see the runner once in a while." She was beginning to slur. "You think you can help Mr. Darling?"
"Who paid the juice?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. What money?"
I ignore her question and wrote down a few more things. The information she was giving me actually created more questions. I put my pen down and turned toward her.
Samanthat was having trouble keeping her eyes open She put her glass down and leaned back on the couch. Her eyes popped open and she gave me a brave smile.
"I've been up all night trying to figure out what to do," she said.
"Why don't you come with me and rest a while. You've been through a lot and you'll be safe here." I took her hand and helped her off the couch.
"You'll help, won't you?"
Samantha's knees were giving out. I put my arm around her slim wsist and led her to one of my spare bedrooms.
"Don't worry, I'll try to take care of our problem."
It was a long time since I had tucked in a beautiful woman. She smiled again as I helped her lie down.
"I have some things to do. I'll be back before you wake up."
I gently closed the door behind me and wondered what I had gotten myself into.

ch2 pg11-13

"YOU can't find him?" I asked.
"He doesn't answer the phone and he hasn't been to work. No one has seen him." Samantha poured herself a fresh drink and took a sip. She sat back down on the couch and crossed her legs. I wondered if that was part of a show.
"Maybe Greenie got arrested."
"No, I think he would have called either Chucky or myself."
That made sense, then again it didn't. If you got arrested for booking bets, the last people to call were your partners. I sat down at my desk and began making some notes. "What did Greenie do for a living?"
"He worked as a clerk for the City and County. I got his work number right here." She reached into her purse and revealed a worn address book. Samantha's demeanor suddenly changed. "What does all that have to do with all this?"
I know it's not good to judge people under times of stress. I didn't know what to make of Samantha.
"It might be important, it might not." I continued to make notes on my pad while she composed herself. She settled back on the couch.
"What about this Chucky person. Have you tried getting in touch with him?"
"I tried to call him last night but there was no answer."
Samantha gave me a description of both Greenie and Chucky and some information on where I might find them. That seemed to be the first thing to do. Two guys missing and the appearance of a large sum of cash didn't seem like too much of a problem. the two of them were probably off on some wild bender somewhere. Then again, it wasn't even time for lunch.
"So you went home and thought that someone had searched your place?"
"I'm not imagining things. I sweated out Sunday night thinking maybe they had something to do. On Monday, I went to work hoping that one of them would get in touch with me. I found my apartment had been trashed. I opened the door, looked around inside and left. The only things I stopped to grab were Daddy's badge and some cash I had hidden. I knew I couldn't stay there." Samantha paused and hit her drink again. "I don't know why, but I stopped to check my mail. The manager handed me two packages. That caught me off guard."
"Any idea how they got in?"
She stated at me. "No."
She didn't look like she was making things up. When people lied, they usually looked you in the eye or tried to avoid them. She just stared out the window and recanted the past days events.
"My first instinct was to leave the boxes. But I got this thing for mail order stuff so I took them with me. I called a cab, took the boxes and my stuff to a friends house. She and I check on each others places when we're on trips so I had the key."
"Weren't you worried that maybe someone was following you?"
Samantha downed the last of her drink. Her eyes closed for a second before they opened up and regained focus. She looked tired.
"I made the cabby go around in circles until I was sure that we weren't being tailed. Something I read in a book."
Maybe she was a Clancy fan too. Samantha had decided to head toward a friends apartment on the other side of the island. She sent her friend home to her parents house until all this blew over. Samantha realized she was in trouble.
She was a sight to behold. Her innocent eyes and oriental features hid the smarts of a street hustler. Then I remembered her father had been a cop.
"I didn't feel safe in the apartment alone so I took a bus into Waikiki. I hid out in a nightclub until four."
"And after?"
"Breakfast in a coffee shop across the street from the Hilton. It was there I thought of you."
Samantha closed her eyes again. "I caught a cab to the bank. I wanted to check out our stake and make sure it was all there. I wanted to make sure he hadn't sent me my share of the money to cut me out."
"You have access to the bank?"
"Greenie said it would be better for us if the safety deposit box was in my name. That way, if he got busted, they wouldn't be able to touch the cash."
"Now he's missing, and you got two fifty large that you think belongs to someone else."
It sounded like somewhere along the line, Samantha and her friends had bitten off a bit more than they could chew. "Samantha, what was largest bet you were asked to cover?"
She had to think. "Single bet? One game? Maybe twenty five thousand."
"You win or lose?"
"We won. I remember the bet. It was against the Tiger Sharks. In fact we covered that amount a couple of times."
It sounded like Samantha and Greenie were big time. I turned back to my window and sighed. My view of Diamond Head and Waikiki Beach looked like an airbrush that consisted of a hundred hues of grey. Even the usually bright Royal Hawaiian Hotel looked old and rundown. While most of the United States enjoyed a white Christmas, we got out the raincoats and watched the rain fall.
This was winter in the islands.

ch2 pg 9-11

SAMANTHA brushed the hair from her eyes and put her glass down on the table. Her hands were no longer shaking.
"I started to book with Greenie more and more. Freddie was somewhat of a cold fish. At least Greenie would try and tip me off on what he thought were the good plays. He made it fun and interesting."
"How'd you do?"
"Sometimes I won, sometimes I lost. You know how gambling is." Samantha's eyes became vacant. "Daddy liked to bet on football."
She turned her head slowly toward me and put her hands together. "Well Greenie noticed that my bets were getting bigger and bigger. It's not that I was chasing you see, it's just that I needed to bet more in order to get the same high."
"What were you shooting?"
"About a thousand a game," she said. Her eyes avoided mine by looking at the floor. Samantha was what I would consider a big time gambler, a label she didn't seem to be proud of. I guess everyone has a vice, you weren't normal if you didn't.
"On more than one game per week?"
"Five of six," she said softly. "But only on games that Greenie suggested."
"Six large a week, how were you doing?"
Samantha looked up at me and smiled. "I was ahead fifteen grand."
Though I was impressed, I tried not to show it. A thousand a game was nothing to shake sticks at. Six thousand a week was more money than most people made in a month.
Greenie owed her alot of cash. Samantha was winning so much he approached her with a proposition.
"He wanted to make me a partner. There were only two weeks left in the season, and he knew how much I was ahead. We began to make plans for next year."
"So you and Greenie went into business for yourselves."
Samantha nodded her head. She brushed some loose hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Sexy wasn't enough word to describe her. I was trying my best not to dwell on that fact.
Betting on football was some what of a roller coaster ride; it had its ups and downs. It seemed that Samantha's ride with Greenie was mostly up. That got my attention.
"Any particular team seem to come in for you? I mean more than others."
Samantha thought. "The Tiger Sharks."
Seems that Greenie had his best luck with the local college team. It must have been easier for him to get inside information.
"So, what did it cost you to start up you new enterprise?"
"I got in for fifty thousand." Samantha pushed her glass forward on table signalling for me to fill her up. She was beginning to remind me of me.
I walked over and put the bottle down on the table next to her. She poured her own and filled the glass to the rim.
"Fifty thousand isn't that much to make book, especially if you are taking on the heavy hitters. You must have had another partner, or someone banking." Bookies don't go into business without knowing they can cover their bets. A house that doest pay doesn't remain a house for long.
"I didn't think I was the only one putting up the cash, but Greenie kept me in the dark." Samantha sipped at her scotch. "All I did was show up every Thursday night and pick up my part of the take."
She sat back in frustration.
"So you had no idea who was actually running the show?"
"Greenie-"
"Was just a front. These things are run by people who don't advertise. They don't take bets, they don't show themselves. That's what runners like Greenie are for."
"Well then I don't know!" she shot back at me. Samantha was now on the verge of crying. She put both hands on her face and brushed her hair back.
"Relax, I'm not here to interrogate you. I just need to know what really happened."
Tears began to well up in her eyes. She was doing a good job of holding on to whatever composure she had left. From my desk I grabbed a box of tissues and hand it to her. I turned my attention back to the falling rain and left her to her own thoughts.
A clap of thunder boomed over our heads and shook the room.
Samantha bolted upright.
"It's okay, It's only-"
"I'm not a little girl. I can take care of myself," she retorted.
I looks could kill, I would have been struck down where I stood.
"If you can take care of yourself, then why come to me?" Her story was interesting, but a little confusing. Why not just take the money and run?
"Someone searched my apartment. I think it was the money they were after."
I leaned back against the window and sighed. "That's it?"
Samantha paused and looked at me. "No, I came to you 'cause Greenie dropped out of sight."

ch2 pg 8-9

WHEN Charlie Royce had passed on, he had left Samantha some things: loneliness, depression and a rather large retirement fund. Her friends had tried their best to shake her out of it but to Samantha, her was all she had. Too many lonely nights had led to too many memories. She was drinking away her sorrows in a Waikiki bar one night when a handsome well dressed guy sat down next to her. It turned out he was a handicapper.

Handicappers watched the world of sports and tried to make predictions on who would win and by how much. Gamblers through out the country listened to what they forecast.
For instance, if they said the Bears were going to win over the Giants by thirteen and half points, people bet whether or not the Bears would win by more or less. If I bet on the Bears and they won 33-30, I lost my bet because they had failed to cover the predicted winning margin. The winning margin was called the spread.
Now if I had bet on the Bears and they won 33-14, I won the bet because the Bears won by more than thirteen and a half points. They had covered the spread. The half point was there to prevent ties.
The predictions that the handicappers came up with was called the line. The line came out every Tuesday. Right after the Monday night game, another week of handicapping started.
The line wasn't constant nor was it the same coast to coast. It would change depending on injuries, weather forecasts and who had home field advantage. Handicapping was not an exact science, though some would like you to believe it was.

"So you started betting on football games."
"I started betting small at first. Fifty here, fifty there. Then Daddy's pension came and insurance came in." She paused, "I need another drink."
I poured her another scotch. After thinking about it, I took out another glass and poured myself one too.
The handicapper had put he in touch with a guy named Freddie. He was a bet runner that apparently had a reputation for paying on time and not accepting excuses when it was time to collect. Welshers were usually given some permanent reminder of their actions. Broken bones and visible scars were the usual trademarks.
"Did he do his own work or did he hire out?" I took seat across from her and watched her eyes.
Samantha glared at me. Her story had a beginning, a middle and I was interrupting. I mumbled an apology and motioned for her to go on.
"Freddie was always in Danny's from ten to ten. Well one day, I missed him. The bartender noticed me looking for him and called me over. He motioned to a guy sitting at the end of the bar."
She downed the last of her drink. "That's how I met Greenie. His real name is Michael Green."
Her story sounded straight, so far.

ch1 pg 6-7

AS far as I could remember, Charlie had raised Samantha on his own. Royce had gotten married during his overseas stint in the Army. After giving birth to his daughter, it became apparent that America and citizenship was all his wife had been after. Last he had heard of his ex-wife, she had remarried and was living somewhere in Oakland. He became a single parent working at a job with impossible hours. Growing up without a mother must have made Samantha close to her father.
Royce and I had worked a couple of cases together, but I didn't think we had a special relationship. The fact that he had taken the time to teach me few things told me that he liked me. That and the fact that Samantha was in my living room.
"Okay Samantha, I guess you are who you say you are."
She nodded to me wile her trembling hand held her fathers shield. Then as if it had brought back some terrible image, she thrust it back into her purse and closed the latch.
"Call me Sam. Daddy always did," she said, looking up at me but not quite hiding the lost look in her eyes. Her gaze was one me, but her mind was reviewing some movie from her past. Eight millimeter home movies, I guessed.
"Samantha, I don't know if your father told you about me. I retired. I'm just a businessman."
"Daddy said that if I got into any kind of trouble I was to look you up. He said you owed him."
I wasn't very sharp this early in the morning, but what she said brought it all flooding back to me.

Charlie and I were on some mundane mission; tracking down an armed robber who had decided to jump bail. Through a couple of tips we were able to find him and corner him in an alley. I went in first with Charlie covering me.
The alley contained a large dumpster and some garbage cans. It didn't go straight back, instead it turned off to the left behind a Chinese restaurant. I inched my way to the back while Charlie covered my back.
The bail jumper popped up from the dumpster and drew on bead on me. Apparently he thought we were some acquaintances he owed money to. Charlie clipped his wing before he could shoot.

A shiver ran through my body. I got up and turned down the thermostat. It was getting cold.
"Samantha, what is it you need from me.?"
"I don't quite know what to do. I want to give the money back, but I don't want them to know who had it."
"Why don't you just turn it over to the police?"
Samantha reached for her drink and knocked it down. She closed her eyes and steadied herself.
"Because someone wants it back."
This wouldn't be so easy. I sat down and listened to her story.

ch1 pg 4-5

HER dark eyes began to make me feel like i was being maneuvered into something. In her face I saw fear, then anger, then fear again. This wasn't a trick.
"Well, if you aren't going to help, I guess I better go." She stood up clutching her purse. "My father said you were different from all the others, but you're not. You guys are all the same. If you don't benefit from it, then you don't want to get involved. Thanks for the drink."
I stood up with her. She was at least my height in bare feet.
"Hold on."
Samantha glared at me and paused. With a sullen look she took a seat ans smoothed her dress out over her thighs. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
"Look, I haven't been into this kind of thing for years. Women don't just show up everyday desperately needing my help. People don't come pounding on my door in the morning acting like I owe them something. Walking in here with that kind of attitude doesn't even get you a drink."
The sound of the falling rain seemed to fill the room as we stared at each other. Samantha was a beautiful woman but this was still my home. No one came here and talked to me like that. Especially not first thing in the morning.
She settled back into her seat, but her body still remained tense. Samantha began to study the patterns in my rug.
"I'm sorry I woke you up."
A peace offering. I took a deep breath and counted to five. Beautiful or not, she had started off on the wrong foot. I decided to give her another chance. Charlie Royce was someone I had considered a friend.
"How's your father?" I hadn't seen him for at least five years. That's how long I had been out of touch.
"He's dead."
"I'm sorry."
"In the line of duty. Daddy also had cancer."
My head nodded in understanding. The Charlie Royce I remembered had been a proud man.
Samantha looked at her empty glass. I walked to the bar and refilled it.
"I don't want to seem callous, but how do I know-"
"Daddy said to show you this." She reached into her purse and slowly produced the familiar shield. I recognized the number.
The low rumble of thunder rolled in from somewhere offshore. The dark clouds continued to gather.

ch1 pg 2-4

"HOW can I help you, Ms. Kim-"
A dark haired woman I did not recognize rushed past me and let the door close behind her. I wondered what her hurry was.
"Your shoes." Shoes and sandals here were left at the door. She walked into my living room and took a seat on my couch. I usually met my guests in the connecting room next door, but it was too early in the morning for me to care.
Samantha Kim looked at me curiously, as if she had made some sort of mistake. Then her expression changed; she looked like she needed help.
"Mr. Darling, I need your help."
I looked her over and decided that she was the kind of woman who could use my boxer shorts to cross the street just so she wouldn't have to step in a puddle.
"My father said that if I ever needed help, you would be the one to see."
She noticed that I was staring down at her shoes. They were nice shoes. Taking her pumps off one at a time, she got up and set them by the door. She wasn't wearing stockings.
I took the opportunity to get a good look at her. Close inspection revealed that Samantha Kim was in her mid to late twenties, though the way she wore her black hair short created the illusion of nineteen. Here eyes were oriental but her face was slender, with high cheek bones. The point on the end of her nose was unusual for someone with last name like Kim, but overall her Asian background showed. She wore a light cotton sun dress printed with a subdued floral pattern. The spaghetti straps that held it up only made it seem like her well proportioned body was ready to burst from its enclosure. Her skin was silky smooth and nicely tanned like most of the local women. In my book, Samantha Kim was a looker.
She sat back down on the couch with her knees together and her ankles off to one side. I took a seat across from her and decided that having to wake up to her wasn't such a bad thing after all. With her allure, I had a hard time remembering why she was here.
"So Samantha, why are you here?" I couldn't remember any friends named Kim though I sometimes ate a restaurant of the same name.
"Royce is my maiden name," she said, looking out over my lanai. "Charlie Royce was my father."
I followed her gaze outside to see that the deluge that had awoken me had started up again. It was coming down in sheets so thick it drowned out all the colors of the city and turned the horizon a dark grey. The usual postcard view from my window now looked like a black and white photo that had been over exposed. Black and whites made me moody.
Charlie Royce had been a part of another life. He had been a detective in the department while I was just starting out with the government. Our paths had crossed more than once and he had taken the time to show a new guy the ropes. I remember Charlie saying that he had a daughter. But it had just been in passing; our personal lives had never mixed. It had been many years since I had seen or heard from Charlie Royce and I had never met his girl.
"I remember your father, we used to work together sometimes."
"Daddy hardly talked about work." She grabbed her purse and held it tightly against her side. "When he did mention names, he spoke of you very highly. I think you were the straightest person he knew."
"Well Mrs. Kim, I'm not a mind reader, what exactly-"
"Nobody said you were. Look, you got anything to drink around here?"
"I could make you a cup of coffee. Or I could-"
"You got any scotch around? Dewers, if you got it."
For someone that wanted my help she had an unusual way of asking. I walked over to the bar and poured her a drink. She was after all, a guest in my home. Maybe she wasn't a morning person either.
The glass quivered a little when she took it out of my hands and brought it to her lips. Samantha looked as if she had a thin wire strung inside of her being wound tighter and tighter. I hoped it wouldn't break.
She drained her glass in one gulp. Well, it was night time somewhere.
"Daddy said i could always count on Darling. Sorry, I mean Mister Darling." She put her empty glass down and stared at me.
I stared back. Her makeup couldn't quite hide the darkness under her bloodshot eyes. She looked like she had been up all night and despite her drop dead looks, I was still suspicious. Beautiful women didn't walk into my living room every morning. I could only wish.
"I've got two hundred fifty thousand of the Syndicate's money. At least I think it's their money."
My face remained blank though inside my head warning bells were ringing. Then it occurred to me that this might be some elaborate trick someone was playing on me.
"Aren't you going to say something?"
I sat back in my chair and asked: "What do you want-"
"I want to give it back, but I don't know how."

ch1 pg 1-2

"AND if you haven't gotten up by now, now would be a good time. The storm front lingering to the south of the islands decided to pay us a visit last night. Expect heavy showers over all parts of the island chain. The National Weather Service has issued flash flood warnings for all low lying areas. Leave early and expect traffic in all town bound directions. A stalled car in the east bound lanes have already trapped commuters coming in from the west. Don't forget your umbrellas."

I reached for the clock radio and turned it off. Just yesterday the tropical sun had burned high in a cloudless sky. This morning the rains lashed my glass doors so hard I wondered if they might be blown off their tracks. The ever changing weather was part of living in the middle of the ocean.
The clock said seven thirty. The sound of the falling rain made me close my eyes again. I pulled the blanket closer to my body and went back to my dream.

"Hold on!"
Another explosion rocked the boat and dimmed the emergency lights. Water began to spray everywhere as damage control people scurried around the fallen bodies.
"Lock up that bulkhead!" I shouted to a very distressed looking seaman. "Diving planes twenty degrees up," I motioned to an ensign who just happened to look like Leinani.
What was she doing on my sub?
"Engine room! Can't you give me any power?" I yelled into the intercom. The situation was getting worse. People were scrambling around trying to fix all the leaks.
"Blow all the tanks!"
I motioned to Leinani, "Ensign, come here and give me a kiss."
Leinani and I were rocked off our feet as we hit the bottom.
"Turn off that TV and try to conserve your air. Senior Chief, come with me, we're going forward."
I shot down the ladder with my Senior Chief in tow. We started to make our way towards the torpedo room.
"Chief, there's a chance that someone might pick us up on their sonar. I want you to grab that wrench and start banging on that bulkhead."
"Anything you say skipper."
Leinani was clinging to me. She put her arms around me and kissed me. A pipe burst and drenched us in a spray of water.
The Senior Chief began to pound: thud! thud! thud!
Nothing.
Thud! thud! thud!

My eyes flew open and looked around the room. The morning sun, trying its best to burn away the heavy clouds cast a hazy light through the windows. The rain outside had subsided to a mild drizzle just light enough to keep everything damp.
The drone of the air conditioning and the light smattering of rain against the window glass were the only sounds that came to my ears. My senses reassured me I was at home and not at the bottom of the ocean. My blanket got tangled up in my feet as I sat up and looked for the time. The clock read nine twenty three.
The pounding though, resumed. This time it was someone pounding on my door and not my Senior Chief trying to signal someone at the surface. I had been reading too much Clancy.
The fog engulfed cells that made up my brain told me to ignore it; then again maybe the building was burning down and someone was trying to save me. I almost got a mouthful of rug as I stood up and headed for the door. I kicked the blanket away and threw it back on the bed.
"Yeah? Who's there?"
A female voice identifying herself as Samantha Kim begged to gain entrance. I did a little jig as I struggled to put on a shirt and a pair of shorts at the same time. I usually would have happy to have a woman at my door except I didn't know anyone named Samantha.
I checked the peephole to make sure she was alone. The fish eye view I got was of a woman who kept checking both sides of the hall. She didn't look like she would be too much trouble, then again who did? I unbolted the door and let her in.