Chapter 18 The Task Force
The Task Force
?Ono: delicious, tasty, savory
Woody must have been out in the water when Minnow got back to the house—though he left no note, so she used the time to add
Sam Callahan’s notes to her journal. Nothing new about the shark, but his guilt brought a new dimension to the story. Another
reminder to kiss and make up after every fight.
She lined up photos she’d taken of the surfboard, the tooth, and the fin from the cave, which was still a maybe in the evidence
department. She was still trying to reach Hank Johnson’s wife, since no one thought to ask her if he’d had fins on, or if
they did, it wasn’t written in the report. She’d called the detective on the case, but he had no idea either. Also, Nalu was
supposed to get on a computer and find out specifics of the attacks two and four years ago. That data could be invaluable.
There were still so many missing pieces to the puzzle.
In preparation for the meeting, she wrote down her selling points against a shark hunt.
The migratory nature of large sharks. The importance of apex predators.
Hawaiian culture. Animal cruelty laws. It felt like everyone on the island was feeding on the fear, and fear had no place in science.
Humans were so good at disrupting the natural order of the earth and its oceans without stopping to think of consequences down the line.
So it was Minnow’s job to be the voice of reason.
Woody emerged from the ocean with ten minutes to spare, put on a wrinkled aloha shirt, combed his hair with his fingers, and
they were out the door. Even from the end of the lava road where they parked, they could see a line of cars parked all along
the road into the Kiawe. At the gate there were two cop cars and a bunch of photographers standing around. Minnow wished they
had come by boat since there was no other way around. It was all a‘a lava, the crumbly kind.
As they approached, heads started turning their way, and she heard a shutter snap. Minnow looked down at the ground. In the
days after her father died, Catalina Island had turned into a blur of press, all wanting interviews and photographs, and sticking
their lenses where they didn’t belong. Her mother would scream at them, then dissolve into tears, which scared Minnow. The
feeling had remained with her. Instinctively, she picked up her pace. Woody did not.
“Relax, I got your back,” he said.
She could sense the cameras pointing their way. Click, click, click.
“Is that Angela’s sister?”
“No, that’s the shark lady.”
“Dr. Gray! Can you confirm that Angela Crawford lost her arm?”
“Is it true Zach Santopolo was with her?”
“Will Hawaiian waters ever be safe?”
Minnow kept her focus on the gate, not making eye contact with anyone. None of their questions warranted an answer, but she
gave one anyway. “Hawaiian waters are safe. Excuse us, but we have a meeting to get to.” And then, because she couldn’t resist,
she added, “And I study sharks, not movie stars, so no comment.”
Woody nodded to the cop, who stepped forward, and they did some kind of half hug, chest bump thing.
“Bruddah, good to see you. We headed in for da shark meeting,” Woody said in a thicker pidgin than he used around her.
The meeting was held in a large, open-air pavilion set back from the ocean, next to a large canopied tree.
As soon as they hit the shade, the temperature dropped ten degrees.
Minnow had dressed up for the occasion in a white linen button-up tied at the waist and ripped jeans.
For the first time in days, she’d given her hair a proper wash, finishing up with a freshwater rinse out of a water jug Woody had brought down and left in the shower.
Brackish was fine most of the time, but it left a lightly salted film.
A table had been set up out front, covered in a white tablecloth and full of drinks and platters of cheese and crackers and
nuts. People stood around talking with drinks in hand, as though this were some kind of reception. She spotted Mayor Lum talking
to the head of Search Dave Morrow, head of
the Kiawe Roughwater Swim; the district rep Tim Richmond; a police officer who called himself Dragon; Sam Callahan, who kept
looking at her; and two local fishermen who both had been fishing this coast their whole lives. It made her wonder where Luke
Greenwood fit in all this.
Woody went last. “My name is Woody Kaupiko, and I was born next door at Hale Niuhi. I could swim before I could walk, and
my family used to be the caretakers of this ?ili, this area. And I have opinions about this whole thing, so I appreciate being on your roster.”
Mayor Lum nodded in acknowledgment, then took over again. He spoke slowly, swinging his gaze around the table and making eye
contact with each person. “You all are here because you have a stake in these shark attacks or have experience or knowledge
about sharks. You all know what’s gone down, but we also have Minnow Gray with us to give us an update on what she and her
intern have found out since her arrival. We’ll do this roundtable style, each person gets a chance to speak, and then we’ll
open it up to questions. So Minnow, why don’t we start with you.”
The sun had gone behind a bank of clouds, dimming her light. She’d been hoping to go last, once she’d had a chance to hear
what the others had to say, and she knew what she’d be up against, but all eyes were on her.
She smiled and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mayor Lum, I’m honored to be here.
Why don’t I first present you with our findings and then go from there,” she said, pulling out the photographs Joe had given her, as well as the ones Nalu had picked up from Longs drugstore just before the meeting.
The tooth. The surfboard. The fin. Angela Crawford’s wounds.
When she asked if anyone knew anything about Hank Johnson, one of the lifeguards said, “I remember his wife saying he was
wearing fins.”
“Did she say what kind?”
“No, but red. Easy to spot.”
Damn.
“Okay, we’re still waiting on confirmation from the wife, but I’ll note it here,” she said. “And though we can safely say
the same shark that bit Stuart also bit Angela, that’s really all we know. The incidents were a week apart and four miles
away from each other, but as the shark swims, four miles is nothing. I know it’s rare in Hawai?i for two shark incidents like
this so close together, but it’s happened elsewhere—Florida, South Africa, Australia. And the odds of another incident are
close to zero.”
She went on, outlining basic white shark behavior for those unfamiliar with the animals. From everything she’d seen all shark