The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (top e book reader txt) 📕

door, then hesitated. There were streaks of blood and inner pig workings on her hands and arms, and stains on the front of her jeans. She reached into the glove box and pulled out the rag she kept there to wipe Hilo, doing her best to clean her hands. It was useless. She climbed into her seat and released the parking brake, then slowly moved the vehicle forward until the slack in the towrope had been taken up. Carefully, she eased forward, dragging the pig until it was on the edge of the road, no longer blocking the passage of motorists.

She got out again, standing by the dead animal, surveying her handiwork. There were still pieces of pig and broken glass on the pavement. She removed the shovel from the Jeep’s rear, scraping as much as she could onto the verge. It would have to do. She glanced at her watch, aggravated by the delay, doubly annoyed by the state of her clothing. The scent of the pig filled her nostrils.

The movement of the Jeep had caused the flock of chickens to temporarily disperse, but now they were returning, picking at the flecks of pig on the road surface as they closed in on the carcass. She climbed back into the front seat and radioed the station, telling the police cruiser to go ahead. She was a good forty-five minutes late already, and was going to have to clean herself up before she went anywhere.

By the time she’d reached the harbor parking lot in Lahaina, the first passenger boat of the morning was already pulling away from the dock. Her mood plummeted. She got out, taking her overnight duffel with her, and locked the Jeep. Shoving the car keys deep into her canvas messenger bag, she hung it cross-body style over her shoulder and chest, and shouldered the duffel. It had rained during the night. She navigated her way around the puddles that had formed in the parking lot’s unevenly paved surface, and made her way toward the public restrooms.

She glanced down at the bloodstains on her jeans, rueful. Dealing with them would have to wait until she had access to a washing machine, but she took off her shirt and did her best to rinse the flecks of pig parts and blood streaks that marked it. She wrung it out and stuffed it into the bottom of her duffel, then scrubbed her hands and arms and put on one of the clean sleeveless shirts she had packed.

The next ferry was already boarding by the time she felt presentable. At the ramp, Kali spoke briefly with the crew member checking tickets, receiving a head nod as she showed her badge. She made her way through the hatch into the interior behind a group of three oddly dressed women in long, matching blue cotton skirts. One of them was old, with beautiful white hair, and Kali estimated the other two to be somewhere in their early twenties. Their hair was tied back in loose ponytails, their tanned skin giving the impression that they spent a lot of time outdoors.

The ferry crossing didn’t actually take much longer to make the trip across the channel than the cruiser, and she consoled herself with the thought that the larger boat was far less bouncy and considerably more comfortable than the small speedboat. Other than the group of women, there were very few passengers on board. She chose a seat on the starboard side toward the bow as the boat’s engines rumbled to life. As she wedged her duffel beneath the empty seat next to her, she looked around. Sitting against the bulkhead on the port side was a man with sunglasses and a black baseball cap with the brim pulled down, obscuring his face. He was holding an open magazine. Kali frowned. There was something familiar about him. Despite the attempt to camouflage his identity, a thick strand of bleached blond hair was visible beneath the bottom edge of his cap.

Kali felt herself bristle with annoyance. It was Chad Caesar, an actor from Lights Out Maui, a canceled television series that had been largely shot locally on Maui. He’d played the lead character, an investigative journalist from the imaginary Honolulu Record newspaper who managed to break a big story, uncover crime and injustice, catch a criminal, and wrap it all up neatly by the end of every episode.

The series had been hugely popular, having run for multiple seasons before being canceled abruptly, much to the dismay of legions of loyal viewers and fans. Kali had heard from several trusted sources that the show’s cancelation had been the direct result of ridiculous salary demands from Chad. Instead of leaving Hawai‘i with his tail between his legs, Chad had capitalized successfully on his status as a local celebrity to launch a blog and podcast focusing on local events, emphasizing crime, supernatural phenomena, UFO sightings, sea monsters, mermaid encounters, and occasional run-ins with a tropical, mountain-dwelling cousin of Bigfoot that he had dubbed the Palm Man.

Chad’s public persona as Ruler of the News—a title he had chosen for himself to promote his podcast—was familiar to Kali. She also knew that his presence on the morning ferry was unlikely to be random. Instead of sitting down, she walked toward him, waiting in the passageway next to his row of seats. As the boat pulled into open water, she watched him tug the brim of his hat lower over his forehead, and turn his gaze to the back cover of his magazine, peering intently at the ad there. He was studiously ignoring her presence.

She crossed her arms over her chest and spoke clearly. “Good morning, Chad. What are you doing on this boat?”

He looked up at her, a brilliant, practiced grin on his face that gave full play to his unnaturally white teeth. He took off his sunglasses and pushed his cap back on his head, allowing a mass of artificially enhanced golden hair to spill onto his forehead