Love Between Law and Life

Chapter 4: Is Knocking on the Door really that Hard?

            “What is with you and doors, do you have an allergic reaction when you put your knuckles on them?” Flo rants as she moves effortlessly through the shelves, hands piled high with books and CDs. Leo and Kahula were already in, the punk with a heart of gold was in the comic section, looking like he was going to have a heart attack with all the books scattered on the table, while Kahula, ever fabulous, was behind the cash register looking more like they were trying to take over the world than organise information.

            “What happened?” Bobbie takes in the rest of the shop, eager reply gone from the tip of her tongue. It genuinely looks like a storm had passed through, nothing was damaged, but books were piled everywhere. The regular smell of coffee that had seemed to be embedded in the walls was muted by overpowering perfume, cologne, and cleaning products.

            “Stop looking like a guard dog and take a seat, will you? You look like you’re either about to call the cops or have an aneurysm.” Flo chuckled as she walked up to her, closing the door behind her. Bobbie finally faces her and takes in the vest and pants, not the regular shirt she wore. Flo catches on and waves her hand vaguely at the rest of the shop. “We had two tours yesterday.”

            “Tours?”

            “Yea, like round the city tours.”

            “You guys looked like you got robbed.”

            “That’s because we did.” Kahula raised their hand to their mouth from their position from behind the computer, tone deadpanned. Flo rolls her eyes and flips them the bird, resting a hand on the small of Bobbie’s back and pushing her to one of the bean bag seats in the children’s section.

            “We did not.” Flo tried to placate the tense detective, rubbing a hand down her face. She picked up a couple books scattered on the ground and placed them gently on the shelves.

            “Then can you explain what did?” Bobbie couldn’t help but notice the imprint of warmth from Flo’s hand still on her back, even through her clothes.

            “Tours. So, every once in a while, the bookstore is on the roster of places to visit when you’re vacationing.” Leo walks over, a hand rubbing his left arm as though he really were in the process of a cardiac arrest. He picked up the broom and brandished it like a sword. “And when they do, we have to fight for our lives and our bounties like the knights we are!”

            “Ignoring Leo – though his explanation isn’t far off, but I’m a Queen you Knight, bow to me - tours mean a lot of people in and out the store. They don’t have a lot of time to spend sitting around and finding a good book, so it’s usually a rush and a mess. Especially since there are kids here too and a few adults have the tendency to leave them in the kid’s section until they’re done shopping.” Flo leans on one the shelves bolted to the wall, arms folded to her chest. “Two days before, we switch everything we can out with older copies or damaged ones, so that further damage doesn’t cost us anything. When they go to the counter, they get the new copy from the back.”

            “The only thing is, the next day, we’re left changing everything back and running inventory to make sure nothing’s missing.” Kahula holds up a stack of printed papers for Flo to see before dropping it on a shelf under the desk. “A complete disaster that usually takes up about an hour before store opens.”

            “Huh.”

            “So, what can I do for you today, detective?” Flo pulls back her attention, taking the broom from Leo and leaning her arm on it like a staff. The pair of workers return to their jobs, but it was clear they were keeping an ear on the conversation. “Read you your aura, vision of the day, talk to a ghost?”

            “Ah, talk to a couple leads actually.” Bobbie mocks a wince as Flo snorts, raising her eyebrow as how built the psychic was. Lean muscle that came from moving heavy books and boxes most likely… and trying to keep up with an eleven-year-old kid and two store clerks you’ve practically adopted at this point most likely.

            “No can do. Still got the rest of the store to put back into shape.”

            “Nope, we’re fine here.” Leo and Kahula chorus from their positions. Flo huffed and glared at both of them. “Have fun.”

            “I’m not leaving.”

            “I really could use your help. With the weekend starting tomorrow, I won’t get to do anything of measure until Monday.” Bobbie put on the best puppy dog eyes she could manage, only because she knew she had the support of the other workers of the bookstore. It was not a look she favoured or even worked most of the time because of her build and generally fierce look, but it was enough for Florence to groan in irritation.

            “For the record, I have a kid, that look doesn’t work on me.” She wrinkled her nose and rests the broom against the wall. The psychic flipped the bird once more at both her colleges before heading towards the back. “Give me two minutes. I need to get out of this vest.”

            “Where is she going?” Bobbie asks softly as the woman walks out of range of hearing, with an aborted and fruitless motion, the detective tries to lean forward on the beanbag and rest her elbows on her knees. The gracefulness that she’d carried with pride from the day she could walk was nowhere to be seen on the childish furniture.

            “Flo and Kaleo lives upstairs. We don’t know the full story, but when Haku moved out to the retirement home, he left the whole thing in Flo’s care.” Kahula waved their hand at the entirety of the store. “When he passed away a couple years ago, he’d left the entire deed to the place to her in his will since he’d had no children.”

            “So, she lives here?” Bobbie whistled as she got to her feet, really looking at the place for the first time. It was bigger than she realised on first glance, four neck level shelves to the front corner were the light shone through the glass pane of the entrance. The back, to the side of the cashier desk, were taller shelves of textbooks and research work. The other side of it were four tables pushed together and filled with cups of pens, pencils, and other materials.

            To the other side of the door, where Bobbie spent most of her time so far, was the kid’s section. At the middle was the table surrounded with four beanbags, and around it were short shelves of books for young readers. Further beyond were desks with headphone and computers, at the end was a printer – a work area then. The shelves to the walls were filled with music and work CDs and a few other things Bobbie didn’t recognise right away.

            “Pretty much, yea. I think Flo’s worked in this for most of her life. Makes sense that she gets to keep it, ya know?” Leo raises his head again, shrugging his shoulders with a half-smile. He doesn’t get to say much more as Flo returns through the door at the back, hands patting down the hasty creases on the clean shirt and a grin on his face.

            “Seriously though, you all going to be okay with running this place?” She turns to Kahula on this, clearly aware that they were the only one mature enough to make the decision. They merely wink and pats her on the back.

            “We’re going to be fine, it’s Friday for one and it’s not like we haven’t taken care of the place before.” They reassure, Leo shooting her thumbs up from the back, broom once more brandished like a sword knighting someone. “Plus, we both have you on speed dial and emergency numbers on the store phone.”

            “Okay. Okay.” Flo sighs and trains her eyes on Bobbie, “Guess it’s me and you and a whole bunch of suspects today.”

            “Don’t forget the potential dead people.”

            “Of course.”

            Florence rubbed her hands together, taking in the scenery rolling by. Bobbie sat beside her in the van, pickup truck really -it was really nice, smooth engine, there was no way this was a rental -, eyes ahead and posture oddly stiff. The psychic could read energies, didn’t mean she could read minds. Besides, not that it would make a difference considering reading the detective was like trying to get around a wall plastered high with ‘Do not disturb’ caution tape.

            “So uh, where are we heading?” And just like that, the tension in the van leaks out. Florence sighed quietly in relief as breathing suddenly seemed easier.

            “To the first set of people who recorded a missing’s case.” Bobbie glanced over at her, blue eyes shining curiously. Honestly, her eyes could give competition with the Hawaiian skies on who’s were bluer. Bobbie points to the back of her truck with her thumb where the case file was dropped on her seat. “Why, had a different agenda?”

            “Nah, nothing.”

            “Really?”

            “I haven’t had breakfast yet.” Florence shrugs her shoulders, purposely mimicking her son when he wanted something. She had no regrets when the statement seemed to throw the detective through the loop, her neck arcing forward and slight disbelief colouring her face. Yes, she had eaten breakfast already, she made it a goal to sit with her son before school every morning to have the most important meal of the day with him so he didn’t develop the same bad habits she had as a teenager, but Bobbie was different.        

She was a detective that had to have been up at the ass-c***k of dawn to get herself in any semblance of together at this point, and Florence had worked with enough people to have an idea if their hungry or not. And… she could hear her stomach that she refused to address - if she even noticed at all.

“You’re hungry.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t…”

“Hey, it’s not exactly like I’m getting paid or anything for this gig.”

“You’re not?”

“No, this is actually a favour for the Captain, but not the point.” Florence shrugs again and sticks her hands between her legs for some warmth in the AC cold truck – the Hawaiian heat was still something Bobbie clearly had no taste for, not that she could blame her, it was getting closer to the latter months, it would’ve been much colder at the mainland at this point -, sending a wide eyed expectant look at the detective. “I’m still hungry.”

“Okay. We’ll get something to eat.” Bobbie nodded her hard strongly as though she’d been given a very serious assignment. And true to her word, the pair were munching on malasadas and sipping hot coffee. It was not the healthiest thing Florence would recommend but seeing the sugar on the detective’s face like an angry beard was enough to placate her. Ugh, she was too much of a mother sometimes.

“So, the first, or rather who we assume are the first, set of people to report the missing was… what’s they’re name?”

“Ava and Maleko Kekoa.” Florence unconsciously hands Bobbie a napkin as sugar scatters on her chest, watching blankly at the road as she tries to pull up any memory from the files Bobbie had so graciously forced her to read through a couple days ago.

She had to commend that literally the only thing that kept her from falling asleep was the fact that her heart was notched a little bit higher than average the entire time she was around Bobbie. Not the best reaction to have towards someone you have to work with, and it definitely didn’t help that those damn blue eyes were trained on her every time she made the slightest comment, narrowing as the owner carefully considers everything she said no matter how silly it was.

“Yes, them. How certain you are that we’re going to get something new off them?”

“How do your visions work?” Well that was unexpected. Florence shrugs and tries to string together an understandable sentence.

“I- don’t- what does this have to do with that?”

“You mentioned having visions as one of your abilities, but I don’t know how they work. I figured if we didn’t get any information from them, you could take a look around the house, see if you pick up something.” Bobbie hummed like it was the most normal thing in the world to not only remember, but also consider the abilities of your temporary psychic partner. Truthfully, for all she was familiar with the HPD, they still gave her a hard time on anything she gave a hand to.

“Aweee. You do listen.” Florence bats her eyelids and puts her hands to her chest dramatically with a sniff, Bobbie snorts and nearly risked sending her coffee all over her cream shirt. “But while that does sound fun, I can’t promise you anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“My visions work on the presence of energies. It’s a science thing, I guess. Memories are built on the energy of a living being present in an area. The object also present in that area at the same time basically absorbs that energy and leaves an imprint. That’s how I get my visions. I just piggyback of the imbedded source already present.”

“Well well well, look at you.” Bobbie grins, turning to face the psychic for a few seconds and looking at her as though she were seeing her in a new light. “A science whiz all up in this place.”

“I’ll have you know I did science at one point, yes. But not my point. This whole psychic thing doesn’t exactly come with a handbook, so I’ve tried to make sense if at some point.” Florence waves her hand as if trying hard to push a physical version of the conversation away from them. “My point is, it’s been seven years. Added to the fact that the missing vic, uhh…”

“Makaio.”

“Makaio, didn’t even live with them, he lived at the rehabilitation home for a while, there mightn’t be much to pick up on. Parents can be pretty picky about what they keep around the house when their kid goes missing. I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s like a literal stab of pain in the chest at just to thought of it, worst if you have to keep seeing things of theirs around the house. Add to the fact that it wasn’t just Makaio, it was his handler as well, a lot of rumours can start up with that, and it couldn’t have been pleasant for them.” She tries to explain at as carefully as she could without confusing the detective. This is the furthest in an explanation about her abilities she’s gotten so far without getting cut off halfway, well except for Captain Akamu of course, and she was curious as to how far she could go before Bobbie got confused.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yea, okay.” Bobbie hums, unbothered. “I’m not dragging you out here on the premise that you have to find something. This is just covering all the bases. Plus, I’m new to this case, I’m checking out all the victims to, might as well check them out with you one time.” She waves her hands slightly, dusting off sugar from her lap as she pulls up to the side of a curb. “What about the rehabilitation centre?”

“Nooooooo.” Florence makes a cut off motions with her hand harshly, drawing out the word almost comically. This gets the detective’s full attention, hand pausing on its grip on the door handle.

“What?”

“Centres are full of people in and out on a normal basis. Lots of people, lots of energies. Not all, if most, of them are good. It’s like walking into a movie at the theatre when it’s in the middle of a loud action scene.” Florence snorts none to delicately, “I’m not going there without someone to ground me.”

“I’ll me there?” Bobbie sounds a little confused, not sure what would be appropriate to offer in this situation. “I mean…”

“As much as I appreciate the thought, that’s not going to work. Grounding really only works with someone I’ve really known, and well…”

“Yea.”

“Don’t be offended. I’ve work with Leo and Kahula for quite some time and I wouldn’t recommend them at all.” She tilts her head with a slight winching expression, as though she was remembering a painful headache. “Beyond Kaleo, Akamu has only really kept up with me and that only because he and Healani were the only two I could really work with.”

“Okay, I get that.” Bobbie sighs, gaze slightly unfocused and hand griping the door handle now, mind clearly on deep thought. Most likely trying to figure out a way to make a loophole without getting Flo hurt. Cute, but she wasn’t holding her hopes up. Psychic abilities came with it’s up and downs, like most things really, hers was a dislike to shaking hands and crowded areas.

“Hey, we’re here. Focus on the mumbo jumbo later.” Florence hops out the van, feet landing on the ground with ease. She meets up with her partner at the front, walking with her to the front door as she prattles off the address and a few words of the parent’s living. “So, who’s knocking?”

Bobbie rolls her eyes and raps her knuckles on the wood, ignoring the small victory pump the psychic did with her hands. It takes a few more knocks before they could hear feet pattering on the floor. The door opens and a kind, aged woman greets them.

“Mrs Ava. I do apologise for the intrusion.” Bobbie rests her hands on the table, fingers intertwined as she watches Ava rest a glass of orange juice in front of her, another to the side offered to her next guest. To the side, roaming the house like a lost soul was Florence. She twitched in attempting to ask the younger woman to take a seat, but she was only doing the job Bobbie asked her to do.

“Nonsense. It’s been years, yes, but anything to help.” Ava sighs and rubs her fingers against her own glass, eyes gaining a distant look. “I was one of the lucky ones really. At least I had a body to bury. There are a lot of people out there who didn’t get that chance.”