Mahu Blood by Neil Plakcy

Author:Neil Plakcy [Plakcy, Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Gay, Mystery & Detective, Police Procedural
ISBN: 1608203069
Google: dbxoEz8-nmMC
Amazon: B004PVSRBE
Publisher: MLR Press,LLC
Published: 2011-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

Jimmy did not look happy. “Cardozo’s in the FTEP,” he said 156 Neil S. Plakcy

to us. FTEP stands for Field Training and Evaluation Program; newly graduated recruits were partnered with experienced officers so they could apply the theoretical knowledge they gained at the academy to hands-on field training.

I understood why Jimmy wouldn’t be happy. He was young, in his late twenties, though he’d been on patrol long enough to qualify as Kitty’s supervisor. If I were him, I’d worry that every screw-up, every shortcut, would end up filtering back to Sampson.

“Congratulations,” I said to Kitty. “And you, too, Jimmy. You won’t find a smarter, more dedicated trainee.”

“And I don’t tell my dad anything that happens on the job,”

she said.

Jimmy seemed to relax. “You see who was driving that pickup?” Ray asked, pointing to the truck we thought belonged to Brian Parker. Just as he did, though, a guy who matched Brian’s description exited the convenience store and headed for the truck.

Ray and I cut him off. “Mr. Parker?” I asked, showing him my shield. “Honolulu PD. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Brian looked around as if mapping out an escape route and saw Jimmy and Kitty behind us. “What’s up?”

He had a super-sized soda in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. I wondered if he’d been smoking pakalolo, but his eyes weren’t red. “We’ve been looking for you for a couple of days,” I said. “What have you been up to?”

“Just chilling.” He was a skinny guy, a couple inches under six feet, with what looked like military tattoos on his arms.

“You still pretty good with a rifle?” Ray asked. “You were some kind of marksman in the Army.”

Brian shrugged and took a drink of his soda. “I get out in the country and practice sometimes. No law against that, is there?”

“How do you feel about Hawaiian nationalism?” I asked.

“Your dad’s pretty involved in it. How about you?”

“What’s this all about? Is my dad in trouble again?”

MAhu BLood 157

“We’ll ask the questions for a while, how’s that?” Ray said.

“We ask, you answer.”

Brian took a long sip from his soda, then said, “The whole nationalism thing, it’s my dad’s gig. Me, I could care less.”

I nodded. “Want to tell us where you were on Statehood Day, eleven in the morning?”

He bit his lip. “You won’t tell my father, will you?”

I knew from his army records that Brian Parker was nearly thirty. Old enough that his father’s opinion shouldn’t matter. I wondered what he was hiding and why. “Not unless we have to,”

I said.

“I have a girlfriend,” Brian said. “She’s haole, though, and my dad don’t like us to mix. So I haven’t told him.”

“You were with her that Friday morning?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’ve been working private security at night, off the books, for this rapper dude over from the mainland to work on an album. Days, I’m at her house.” We got her name and address, and Ray stepped away to call her and verify the alibi.

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