Toby Neal: Blood Orchids

“It’s okay, girl. I think you’re gonna make it if we can get out of here,” Lei whispered, laying her windbreaker over the wound and leaning on it. Keiki writhed but lay still as Lei brought her gun up again, sighting on the stalled vehicle.

“Drop your weapon and come out with your hands up,” she bellowed, “and I promise I won’t kill you.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” came from the truck, followed by more shots fired in her direction.

She crawled backward behind the picnic table, dragging Keiki by the hind legs. The dog let her, only whining a little as Lei situated them in the slight decline in the ground beneath the table. In one quick heave she stood up and flipped the table on its side facing the car. Shots fired, and this time splinters gouged Lei’s shoulder as a bullet buried itself in the wood inches away.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She turned her head to look and felt her stomach lurch at the same time as pain hit like a red-hot poker. A spray of splinters stuck up like porcupine quills from her left shoulder.

She sucked a few breaths, getting the pain under control, and peeked around the table. She looked at the spot on the wood where the bullet had gone in. It hadn’t made it all the way through the thick timber. The benches’ angle threw the tabletop forward, but she was still hidden behind it.

She hunkered back down, putting pressure on Keiki’s wound again. They’d be safe for the moment. She dug the cell phone out of the blood-soaked windbreaker. Thumbed it open and dialed 911. Reception was always iffy in the park, but the bars lit up. She identified herself, called for backup and an ambulance.

“Sorry, Officer Texeira, help’s about ten minutes away,” the operator said. “We’ll notify the park service and maybe they can get there sooner. Take cover and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Keiki, we’re okay,” she whispered in the dog’s ear, closing the phone on the operator’s protests to keep the line open. “Hang in there, baby.”

The Toyota started up again. She stood up in a squat behind the table, trying to see what he was doing, her weapon out. There was only one operational tire left, but he could still get far enough away on the rims to escape on foot. The truck rolled forward, the blown tires rumbling and flapping against the road.

He wasn’t going to shoot her dog and get away with it-it was that simple. She’d only used up five of the Glock’s fifteen rounds.

She jumped up and dodged out from behind the table, running bent over, weaving. A wild shot blew up gravel that stung her legs as the Toyota rumbled away. She shot out the remaining tire but it kept going, picking up speed. She followed in an all-out run now and blasted the rest of the clip into the back of the cab.

This time when the truck stopped, the horn sounded, one long mournful blast.

She crouched, came along the driver’s side. Grabbed the handle, popped the door.

“Come out with your hands up and I won’t shoot!”

The driver was slumped against the door and, as it opened, he tipped out, falling out of the truck facedown. She recognized the back of his head, sleek as an otter’s pelt. A bullet wound bled from the center of his spine.

She hauled him all the way out into the road by his armpits. He was alive, and blinked up at her, hazel eyes confused.

Ray Solomon.

Nothing surprised her anymore.

“Lei. I can’t feel anything. I can’t move my legs.”

“Goddamn it Ray, I thought you were a friend!” She sat down next to him. He looked bad, his complexion gray and greasy, his body limp.

“Am I dying? I heard you feel cold when you’re dying. I don’t feel cold. I can’t feel anything.”

“You might be dying, I don’t know. What the hell is going on?”

“We’re Changs,” he said. “Your old man killed our old man, and me and Anela thought we’d get him back, prove ourselves to Healani and the captains. I was never going to qualify for the police department..” His voice trailed off as the sound of sirens got louder.

“Wake up. Who else was in on this? Who is ‘Anela’? Come on, confession of a dying man and all that.” She slapped his cheek.

He’d passed out. She kicked away his Glock, fallen beside him, and got up and hurried back to Keiki. She was leaning on the wound when the park service, followed by response vehicles, rolled up.

She waved and yelled, “Priority first aid over here!”

The paramedics ran over with their bags. When they saw the fallen was a dog, they turned to leave. Lei pulled the empty Glock.

“Help my dog. Now. ”

Detective Ross, getting out of his unmarked Bronco and responding to one of her emergencies yet again, waved one of the paramedics away and directed the other.

“Texeira’s in shock. She didn’t mean it. Help the dog, please. Lei, put the gun away, for crying out loud.”

The paramedic did first aid as best he could, and when the ambulances loaded up, they were carrying two stretchers.

Stevens pulled up with Pono in the next wave of responders. He ran over to where Lei sat on the righted picnic table talking to Ross and Nagata, who’d put the two Glocks into evidence bags for Ballistics.

“Lei!” he scooped her into a hug, blood and all. She winced at the pain from the splinters in her shoulder and pushed him away.

“I’m okay.” She saw the blood drain out of his face as he stepped back, obviously remembering she’d broken up with him.

“I was coming to talk to you at your house when I heard about it on the radio. How did this happen?”

“Remember I told you about the guy from my class and the gun range acting weird? He just rolled up on us and started shooting.”

He tried to get Lei to look at him, moving to stand in her sightline-she wouldn’t.

“I’m thinking he’s been in on the stalking, maybe from the beginning.” She noticed the alert gaze of Detective Ross and turned away. “Leave me alone.”

“I need to take you in for an interview,” Ross said. “Come this way.”

The lanky detective gave her some support under the elbow as she staggered, exhausted. He let her sit up front in the Bronco as they headed out. She watched Stevens getting smaller in the rearview mirror as they drove away.

Lei gave her statement in one of the interrogation rooms, accompanied by her union rep, a Budda-like Indian named Vishka. After a strenuous hour or two Ross and Nagata dismissed her to go speak to Lieutenant Ohale.

“He’s been observing,” Ross said in an aside as she left. He gave her good shoulder a kindly pat. “Hang in there. We’re going to wrap this up soon.”

Lieutenant Ohale was pacing his office. She didn’t remember seeing him move that fast before. He pulled her in and shut the door.

“I’ve been pestered by your partner and Stevens every ten minutes. Thank God Ross and Nagata are done interviewing you so they can give their statements.”

“Sorry for all the hassles,” Lei said. “Can I sit down? I don’t feel too good.”

A fine trembling wracked her extremities. She’d only let the paramedics remove the splinters after she was sure Keiki was cared for, and their extraction had been excruciating. She was still in clammy running clothes, splattered with blood from various sources. Ohale gestured to one of the padded plastic chairs in front of his desk and she fell into it, wrapping arms around herself.

“So why didn’t you come to me with this Chang conspiracy thing?” he said, still pacing. “The Changs are a big problem we’ve been trying to get a grip on for years, and there might have been something in your case we could use to nail them.”

“To be honest, Lieutenant, I didn’t take my dad’s tip seriously.” Plus, I was too busy having a nervous breakdown to think straight.