Chapter Eighteen
Los Angeles, California
Sam checked his phone again as Lennox parked the SDPD sedan in the hospital’s parking lot. He still hadn’t heard from Kit, and he was worried. Something was wrong.
He and Lennox had followed Desoto to the hospital, with Navarro bringing up the rear, all of them using their vehicles’ flashers to get them there quickly. Traffic had parted like the Red Sea, but Sam had still been cognizant of every second that ticked by.
They wanted to talk to Ito. They needed to talk to Ito.
But at this very moment, Sam was more concerned about talking to Kit.
When he’d called the nurses’ station to find out if Ito was still awake, he’d learned that Kit had left the ICU in a hurry, visibly upset.
And alone. That wasn’t like her. She wouldn’t leave Akiko unprotected—especially now that they knew Ito’s partial tattoo established a real connection to the mob.
“Still nothing?” Lennox asked.
“Nothing,” Sam confirmed. “Not from Harlan or Akiko, either.” He tapped Kit’s name on his favorites list just as the hospital doors slid open.
“There she is,” Navarro said, relief in his voice.
Sam’s step faltered when he saw her face. She’d been crying. That wasn’t like her, either.
“Ito must be dead,” Navarro said, but Sam didn’t think so.
Kit wasn’t close to Edwin Ito. She was, however, close to Akiko, who flew through the sliding door behind Kit, Harlan on her heels.
Sam started to jog toward them.
“Kit!” Akiko shouted. “Stop!”
Kit turned to face her sister and father, her shoulders rigid, her chin high.
Sam upped his jog to a flat-out run. A family crisis, then.
I won’t interfere, but I will be there for her.
Always.
“I’m sorry!” Akiko yelled. “Goddammit, Kit, I’m fucking sorry! You’re not a monster. I swear you’re not.”
A monster? Kit?
My Kit?
Never.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kit said when Akiko came to a stop in front of her. Harlan wasn’t far behind, his expression filled with sorrow. “I don’t want to hurt Ito. But he has to come clean, Akiko. He has to.”
“I know.” Akiko took Kit’s shoulders, giving her the smallest of shakes. “I told Hanshi that if a hair on your head got harmed because of the secrets he was keeping, I’d never forgive him. You’re not a monster.”
Sam slowed his steps as he approached, listening.
“You’re driven,” Akiko went on. “Protective. But so is Hanshi. He thinks he’s doing the right thing.”
“Did you ask him to tell you who Joe was?” Kit asked, her tone frostier than Sam had heard it in some time.
She was re-erecting those damn walls.
He hated those walls. They’d finally started to come down. She’d finally started to let him in. To let her family in.
To let people love her the way she deserved.
Sam hoped they hadn’t set back their progress too far, but if they had, he’d deal. He’d do what it took to pull those walls back down.
“He wouldn’t tell me,” Akiko said, seeming shaken. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to damage your relationship with him. He’s your grandfather.”
“And you’re my sister,” Akiko said fiercely. “And you were right. I was wrong. This has gone way too far.”
“He asked who the third victim was,” Harlan said in his quiet way, his hands landing on Akiko’s shoulders. “He didn’t seem surprised when I told him it was a woman named Laurette Curry. He knows exactly what’s going on, but he’s not talking.”
That was disappointing, Sam thought. They needed to find Joe. And if Ito wouldn’t even tell Akiko, the secret had to be a big one.
He’d taken another step toward Kit when something flashed at the edge of his vision. In what felt like slow motion, he turned to see Danny Takahashi emerging from behind a parked delivery truck, a gun in his outstretched hand.
No. Not Kit. Not Akiko. Not Harlan.
Sam didn’t take another moment to think. He leapt, propelled by the most all-consuming fear he’d ever felt. He collided with Danny, using his weight to knock the kid to the ground. Before Danny could even react, Sam punched the young man’s arm.
Right arm, because that was the one Alf Ashton had hit when he’d shot him. Danny screamed, a high, thin screech of sound. He twisted in Sam’s hold, fighting like a cornered animal.
“No!” Danny yelled. “Let me go!”
“Drop the gun, Danny,” Lennox commanded. “Or I’ll shoot.”
From the corner of his eye, Sam could see two sets of women’s shoes—Lennox and Kit had come to his aid. Danny still held the gun, but Kit wrenched it free.
Danny threw a punch to Sam’s temple, making him see stars, but he held on. Pulling his leg back, Sam kneed Danny’s left, where Ricky Nicchi had shot him.
Danny screamed again but stopped thrashing. Sam flipped Danny to his stomach and grabbed his arms, yanking them behind his back as Lennox dropped to her knees beside them.
Lennox cuffed Danny, then yanked him to his feet.
“Daisuke Takahashi, you’re under arrest for the murders of Mary Sherman, Laurette Curry, and Paolo Feliciano.
He’s all yours for now, Desoto. We’ll transfer him to San Diego after you’ve booked him for the attempted assault of Akiko here and for Ito’s assault. ”
Sam stood, lungs straining for breath, his adrenaline running high. Kit was at his side, her arm around his waist.
“You okay?” she said, handing Danny’s gun to Lennox.
“Yeah. You?”
“Not a scratch.” She looked up at him, her lips curving up into a wry smile. “You did it again. Stopped my heart by leaping on someone with a damn gun.”
He had done that once before.
“No regrets,” he said. “Would do it again to keep you safe.”
She sighed. “And then you say things like that, and I can’t yell at you anymore.”
Sam chuckled, relief swamping him. Current threat neutralized. He could rest. Until next time. There would always be a next time with Kit in his life.
He was totally okay with that.
Detective Desoto had gripped Danny by the upper arm while reading him his rights and placing him under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon and the illegal possession of a firearm. Periodically, Danny tried to run, but Desoto shook the boy hard each time.
“You gonna fight me, kid?” he asked when he finished with the Miranda. “Do I need to cuff your ankles, too?”
Danny spat on Desoto’s shoes.
“Shit.” Desoto yanked Danny up on his toes. “You don’t disrespect me like that, you little motherfucker. I don’t care who your daddy is or how much money he’s got. I’m adding assaulting a cop to the charges.”
Danny looked like he’d spit again when Akiko pushed past everyone to stand in front of the seventeen-year-old. She stared at him for a long moment, then brushed a hank of hair from his eyes.
“Hey, Danny. Or should I say ‘brother’?”
Danny’s mouth twisted. “You’re no family of mine.”
“You’re right. Blood, yes. Family, no. Does your father know about me?”
Danny glared. “Fuck off, bitch.”
“Why did you beat up Hanshi Ito?” Akiko asked.
Danny said nothing.
“Why did you try to hurt my sister?” Akiko asked. “For a third time?”
“He wasn’t trying to hurt me this time,” Kit said. “He was pointing the gun at you, Akiko.”
Akiko turned wide eyes in Kit’s direction. “He was?”
Sam hadn’t realized that. He’d only seen the gun and had assumed Kit had been the target.
Kit nodded. “He was.”
“It’s money, isn’t it?” Harlan asked coldly. “Now that Akiko knows that she’s Kenzo Takahashi’s daughter, you’re no longer content to let her live. You don’t want to have to share your inheritance with a newly discovered sibling.”
Something flickered in Danny’s eyes.
Harlan was right, Sam thought. Mostly. “I don’t think Danny would have let her live even if she’d never found out about her biological father.
For some reason, keeping Akiko alive served a purpose.
I think he was in on the plan to frame her for smuggling guns.
That’s no longer going to happen, so she’s now a liability. ”
Kit gently moved Akiko out of Danny’s spitting range and got in the young man’s face. “Who is Joe?”
Danny sneered. “I don’t know.”
“Liar,” Kit said quietly. “We’ll find out.
Right now, LAPD has you on one count of assault and battery.
San Diego PD has you on three counts of murder, three counts of assaulting a cop, and one count of attempted murder of a cop—me, on Sunday.
You’re young to be spending the rest of your life in prison. Oh well.”
“Come on.” Desoto yanked Danny toward his vehicle. “Let’s go.”
Akiko stared after them, then threw her arms around Kit. “You stopped him. He can’t hurt anyone else.”
Kit winced at the pressure on her arm but held on tight. “But I don’t think he was working alone, Akiko. He’s only seventeen, too young to mastermind the gun running. We have to find out who’s pulling the strings. We need to find Ricky. Or find out who Joe is.”
Akiko was the first to pull away. “You’re right. Let’s go back and talk to Hanshi.”
Los Angeles, California
Wednesday, February 1, 1:00 p.m.
Sam wanted to shake the frail old man who currently lay in the hospital bed. Ito had continued to refuse to cooperate with them. He’d continued to remain mute.
They’d asked him again and again to give them the information they sought, and he’d continued to say no. Sam had cajoled, Kit had demanded, and Akiko had begged, tears running down her cheeks.
Ito had categorically refused to speak with them.
Lennox and Navarro had remained quiet, standing by the door throughout their pleas. Harlan McKittrick stood outside in the hallway. The big man appeared to be barely holding it together. His daughters were being targeted, and the one man who could help them was refusing to do so.
It made no sense.
Sam could see that Kit was losing her patience. Frankly, he’d lost his already.
She leaned over the bed, speaking quietly. “Danny Takahashi just tried to kill your granddaughter, who you claim to love.” Ito grimaced, just as he’d done the first five times she told him. “He did kill Paolo. Why are you protecting him?”
Ito shook his head and remained silent.