Twisted Vine Part 15

"Clyde. Woo. Little Asian multimillionaire. Looks like Yoda."

"Oh, Clyde." She heard the head smack the guy gave. "I'm retired, you know. I turned my clients over to my son." He gave a name and number. "Sorry to hear that Clyde's gone downhill."

"It was, apparently, a rapid slide in that direction," Lei said, jotting the number on her trusty spiral pad. "I'll give your son a call. I'm looking for who his next of kin is, his heir. Someone to inform of what's going on with him."

"Oh, I can tell you that. No one. He's a bitter old man. Had some cousins, but they're all estranged and live on the Mainland. My son never met him, but his office has the will. Clyde was leaving everything to the Honolulu Zoo."

"Oh." Lei digested that. "Well, thanks."

She hung up and decided not to call the lawyer son until the next morning. She was pa.s.sing by the nurse's station when the young woman waved her over. "Mr. Woo's vitals are failing. Did you reach anyone?"

"No."

"Well, you seem to care what happens to him. Perhaps you'd like to sit with him in his final hour?" For the first time, Lei really looked at her, noting a round, plain face animated by intelligent brown eyes. She must see so much death, and now she was calling Lei on her bl.u.s.ter a few minutes before.

"All right," Lei found herself saying. "No one should die alone."

The nurse gestured. "I'd tell you to get sterile, wear scrubs, and all that-but I don't think it's going to matter to Mr. Woo at this point. You know where his room is."

Lei nodded and walked to the door of the room. She paused outside, did some relaxation breathing. Was she really going in to sit with a relative stranger, one she'd just tried to save, while he died?

She turned the k.n.o.b, pushed the door open. Went over to the small open area beside the bed, dragged a plastic chair over. She found herself breathing through her mouth because there was a smell in the room-that unique combination of decay and ammonia cleaner that seemed to inhabit every hospital to varying degrees. The nurse came to the doorway, pointed to the monitors.

"See that one? It's his heart." The blipping line on the monitor seemed to be skipping at random intervals. "He has arrhythmia, and notice the time between beats is getting further and further apart. This is his oxygenation monitor. The blood isn't getting oxygenated." It was marked with a red line, and Mr. Woo's oxygen was well below it. "Over here is his respiration monitor." Lei could see another blipping light. It was also slowing down. "It won't be long now. They say people go easier when someone's with them. You could hold his hand." Those sharp, dark eyes were challenging. "Someone should care."

"I don't know why it has to be me," Lei said miserably. "Why don't you sit with him, hold his hand, and watch him die?"

"Because you're here for this one. I have others to see to who are going to make it." She withdrew.

Lei winced at the woman's directness and sighed again. She steeled herself and picked up Mr. Woo's liver-spotted hand. His palm felt soft, silky. She had a sudden flash of memory: holding a pet mouse as a very young child. The texture of its coat, its trembling delicacy as it rested in her hand, were just like this.

"You're not alone," Lei said, feeling self-conscious, awkward. "I can't tell if you can hear me, but I'm hoping you can." She looked at the monitors, and the heart one seemed to be stabilizing, beating a little more regularly.

"I tried to find your family and let them know you were here. You were right when you told me they weren't around, and I'm sorry about that. I understand why you tried to take your life today." She looked down at the gnarled hand, smoothed the back of it gently. "But no one should die alone."

That hand tightened suddenly, and she looked up into Mr. Woo's open eyes. He was focusing on her, and he opened and closed his mouth. "Water," he whispered.

Lei thought of calling the nurse but decided to get him the water first. She poured from a nearby carafe into a waxed cup holding a sponge on a stick. Held the sponge to his lips. He sucked weakly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

He turned his head, and she took the sponge away.

"Like I'm dying," he said, and one side of a smile pulled up his mouth. She remembered the nurse saying he had had strokes.

"Well, you aren't dying alone. I'm here." She rubbed that silky palm. "Just rest."

"You came to ask me questions," he whispered.

"I did. But they really don't matter now."

"Yes, they do. I left DyingFriends."

"Why? The site was such a comfort to you."

"They wanted me to do something I didn't want to do."

"What was that?" Lei fumbled for her phone. "I need to record this. Can you say it again? What did they want you to do?"

"Help someone else die." He pushed each word out past stiff lips. "Take a picture and post it to the site. Then someone would help me die. I decided to just do it myself. I didn't need anyone's help." He coughed, and Lei glanced worriedly at the monitors, all showing irregularities.

"We need your computer for the investigation. Can we have it?"

"Yes," he said. His eyes closed then, and his chest lifted in a spasmodic breath, settled.

Lei leaned over to speak into his bat-like ear. "It's okay, Mr. Woo. You're not alone, and you helped me and others by telling me. You're going to a better place. Just relax; take it easy."

She didn't know that he was going to a better place. She didn't know what Mr. Woo believed, what he'd done in his life, where he would go in the next life. She just knew she hoped he'd be walking somewhere wonderful in his beautiful patterned robe. "G.o.d, please give him peace."

In the dim light of the room, accompanied by the random beeping of machines, she felt peace come, moving over Clyde Woo's struggling body like a warm blanket.

Lei continued to rub Woo's hand to let him know she was there. The beeps of the machines got further and further apart, and finally whole minutes went by without anything at all to break the silence.

The nurse came to the door. "Well done."

"He knew I was there. He woke up right before the end," Lei said, blinking, reluctant to let go of Woo's hand.

"They often do."

"Wish you'd told me that."

"Well, they also often don't." The nurse moved briskly around the bed, turning off the monitors, removing the blood pressure cuff, unclipping the IV cord. "I've notified the doctor on call to p.r.o.nounce the death."

"Well." Lei stood, put her chair back in the corner, cleared her throat. "I'm glad you made me sit with him."

The nurse stopped, smiled, extended her hand. "I didn't *make' you do anything. My name's Theresa. Theresa Rodrigues. You have a heart, and that's a good thing in a cop."

"If you say so. Met this guy two days ago, and I'm the one at his deathbed. It pretty much sucks. Lei Texeira." Lei took out her card, handed it to the nurse. "You care too. Must be hard keeping that up, doing what you do."

The nurse shook her head a little, pocketing the card. "Compa.s.sion makes us human, but it does take a toll."

"Mr. Woo was leaving his millions to the Honolulu Zoo. You ever been?" Lei felt the awkwardness of her overture, but Theresa's directness and pa.s.sion for her work intrigued her.

"Of course. I heard one of the giraffes gave birth, and I'd like to see that."

"Well, I've never been. Let's do it." They walked out of the room just as the doctor arrived, and Theresa was caught up in the procedure of dealing with Woo's body. Lei walked away down the hall, feeling bittersweet gladness at finding a genuine human connection in the midst of death..

Chapter 24.

Morning's sparkle made the previous night's events seem like another world as Lei walked back to her office after the team briefing with Ang, Waxman, and Ken. She'd reported in on the events with Clyde Woo, played the recording for them, and now was on her way to his house to search it again and pick up his computer.

Ang followed her out of the conference room. "You doing okay?" The other agent's brows had pulled together. "I wouldn't like sitting with a dying man. This case is really depressing me. Looking at all those suicide photos, looking for ID's on them-it's tough."

"You know, it wasn't that bad," Lei smiled at Ang, stopping outside her office. Ken had gone back to the workroom to look through their evidence again. "It was good to do the right thing by him, and it was peaceful. When he went. I don't think he was suffering. He'd already done a lot of that."

"That's good to hear, at least. Don't tell Waxman, but I'm using DAVID to match the suicide victims in the gallery to known cases."

"Good. It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission."

Ang laughed. "I knew you'd say that."

"Yeah, I've never been much for the finer points of procedure. I get how a defense attorney could tear DAVID apart, but I have a feeling it's not going to matter much in this case."

"Well, I hope to get an e-mail today and get in to that final level on DyingFriends. That's probably where Woo ended-a.s.sisting another member's suicide before one of them offs you. It's good to have a solid testimony on tape and confirmation on that."

"Woo did good before he died. Now I'm off to get you another computer." They got on the elevator, Lei to go to the garage and Ang to go to the tech lab. "Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't shoot pool with you and Marcella the other night."

"Just as well. We drank too much." The tech agent got off the elevator with a little wave. "We'll catch you next time."

Lei was walking toward Mr. Woo's house, already looking strangely deserted with leaves blowing through the entry, when her phone rang. LT OMURA had appeared on the screen.

"Special Agent Lei Texeira."

"That does have a ring to it." Omura's crisp voice had a note of humor. "But I have an idea for a different t.i.tle for you."

"Hey, Lieutenant," Lei said. "How's it going?"

"It's Captain Omura, as I told you last year, but how does *Lieutenant' sound to you?"

"What do you mean?" The front door of Woo's house was open. She would definitely lock it. Thieves would be there in minutes if they knew, and they probably watched the obituaries.

"I mean I'd like to offer you a job. See if I can get you back from the Feds."

Lei stopped just inside the door to give the call her full attention. "Did Stevens put you up to this?"

A feminine snort. "Hardly. Don't know and don't care what's going on with your romantic life. Just looking for a good cop to work next to me in a male-dominated workplace. Someone I know I can count on to take initiative. That's a quality I've come to value over time, and you always had good instincts. Here's the deal: The legislature approved another lieutenant position. It's a new one, so I'm not under pressure to give it to someone who's been angling for it. And I want to bring you back, Texeira. You could have a future in the Maui Police Department, and I'm hoping the bright lights and big city aren't as appealing as Maui."

Lei rocked back, taking this in. Omura must have thought she was hesitating because the captain went on. "You can keep your years of service in the Hawaii Police Department, continue to build on them, and the years you spent as a Federal cop will still count. Also we have a generous salary package." She named a figure that was more than what Lei was making or would make for some years as a junior agent. "Unfortunately, I don't have too long to keep the offer open. Two weeks, and then I have to hire someone or lose the position. So think it over and let me know as soon as you can. You're my top choice."

"Wow," Lei said, looking around the great big sunken living room for Woo's computer. "Thanks so much. I will give it some serious thought and get back to you by the end of the week."

"You do that." Omura rang off with the decisiveness that had made her both intimidating and effective as a leader. You always knew where you stood with Omura, Lei thought, unlike Waxman. She spotted a laptop on a side table next to a La-Z-Boy where Woo must have watched TV and relaxed.

Lei unplugged the machine and power cord and did another quick survey, still distracted by the turmoil the phone call had elicited. There was nothing to see but the remains of a life in an empty setting. She definitely had something to think about.

She decided not to call Stevens about it just yet. He'd just pressure her to take the job, and many of the reasons she'd joined the FBI still stood: the movement around the country, higher-level cases, the latest in equipment and technology.

Looking around the beautiful and expensively-appointed room, she remembered that Clyde Woo was also someone who had put his work first. But in the end, it had been cold company.

Chapter 25.

Sophie had decided to clear her head, and now she ran the rugged Koko Head stair trail, Pandora playing some German thrash metal through headphones to spur her on. Hike running was good because it took all her concentration to move at speed on trails that were never intended for that. Finally, an exercise that took all she had and gave something back. She had Fight Club later on but had already checked Alika's schedule and knew he wouldn't be in, which had bled the antic.i.p.ation out of going.

Sophie wondered, with the one brain cell that wasn't totally engaged with the perpendicular trail with its rail-girder stair dividers, if he was avoiding her. Ever since she'd said no to the women's fight circuit, he'd been mysteriously absent. She could call him, she thought, jumping a large rock, landing light on her toes and bursting away from the ground. She had his number.

But no.

Maybe just to find out where he was, set up a real coaching appointment.

No. It would be too awful if he figured out she liked him that way and wasn't interested. She'd rather die. She probably would die. Alone, as so many of the suicide victims in the gallery had been . . .

Sophie reached the top, a stupendous display of clouds, ocean, rugged green slope, and sweeping vista. She stood, panting. Breathing it in, taking it in, feeling endorphins from the exertion flood her system along with appreciation for the natural splendor all around her.

The dark thoughts fled.

There were important things for her to do, and maybe tonight would be the night she tracked the system admin. She closed her eyes and inhaled, the wind cooling her flushed skin, feeling literally on top of the world.

Sophie turned and headed back, running even faster downhill.

Kamala was slow warming up, so Sophie did some stretches over her home exercise ball. Fight Club had been good. Marcella had shown up and brought Kamuela with her, so they'd had fun orienting him on the sport. Sophie grinned, remembering. Marcella had improved so much, she was able to take the big detective down at least once.

Spending time as a threesome didn't seem so bad when they were doing Fight Club.

Sophie had heated up a frozen fish and noodle dish and ate it as she read through the e-mails that had come in the intervening hours. Sure enough, the link she was looking for had arrived. She clicked on it and followed it to the next portal.

On this screen, two choices awaited her click: "DyingFriends in Your Area Live Chat" and "The Ultimate Solution."

She clicked on "The Ultimate Solution" and was confronted by a bold printed contract. It read as Lei had led her to expect from Woo's disclosure. The contract designated a commitment to the "ultimate solution" to end his or her suffering, with areas to fill in the subject's top three suicide choices. Once that was submitted, the subject made a commitment to a.s.sist or support in the suicide of another member in their local area by one of their three chosen methods, photographing the body and uploading it to the DyingFriends site when complete.

The contracted member could choose the method and the time, effectively surprising the suicide victim. All notes must be written ahead of time and photographic evidence of their completion submitted to the system admin via e-mail for the contract to be enabled.

This was it, Sophie thought, her heart speeding with excitement. Hopefully, the system admin would vet her contract and suicide note personally, and when he did, she could finally track him.