Now he knew the house had been undisturbed since he left it. The counters had a thin layer of dust. Dishes were still sitting in the drain board. Broken glass sparkled at the base of every window. Dante walked the length of the kitchen, thinking of his race to get to Cheyn. He wondered how his friend was doing, and wished he could call him. He knew he couldn’t.

Dante entered the living room, took a brief sweeping glance of it, then opened the patio door to let in Albert and Bob.

The two men entered. They looked around the house. They observed the bullet holes littering the wall, the cracked TV screen, and the bloodstains on the carpet where men had died.

“Must have been quite a firefight.” Bob surveyed the damage to the wall beside him.

“It was.” He turned away, leading them into the kitchen.

Dante looked through the canned goods he had bought months before. He swept the broken glass off the counter, then evaluated the refrigerator. It had been emptied and cleaned. Dante gave silent thanks for that. He pulled out some pasta and sauce from the cabinet and began making them dinner.

Albert and Bob sat at the table exhausted.

“How far is the campsite we’re going to?” Bob laid his head in his hands.

“A hike,” Dante replied over his shoulder. “But not like the one we had today. It should be half-a-day.”

“Oh, is that all?” Bob gave a rueful smile.

“You’ll feel better after you’ve had a full night’s rest.” Dante smiled into the boiling water.

“Good. I was starting to worry.” Bob wiped the sweat from his brow. Dante turned to his father and uncle.

“When is the rental car company picking us up?” Dante leaned against the counter.

“Tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.” He spread his map out on the table. “The motel is booked just for the night, and we’ll get the rental boat in the morning.”

“Good.” Dante turned back to his boiling pot of water.

Albert made a non-committal grunt, as he continued to peer at the map.

Dante broke open the box of pasta, dumping it all in. Then he opened the sauce, and poured it into another pot. A cell phone rang, which caused Dante to jump, swinging around.

His father reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, his eyes never leaving the map.

“Hello?” Albert asked into the receiver. There was a long pause as Albert listened. “I see. So they didn’t find anything?”

Dante turned his back on the conversation. He poured the cooked noodles into a strainer, shut off the bubbling sauce, and got out the plates.

“Are there any new leads?” Albert asked. “Uh-huh. That’s interesting. I see. Well, if I can be of any help, please let me know. Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Dinner’s ready.” Dante pulled a lump of noodles out of the strainer.

“That was one of our field agents out here—an old trainee of mine.” Albert smirked. “The FBI raided the Molokai house a week ago, but they didn’t find any evidence of Kaimi.”

“We gathered that from your end of the conversation already.” Dante’s jaw hardened.

“What did he say about the new leads?” Bob massaged the back of his neck as he leaned on the table.

“Well, the FBI has requested the assistance of the CIA. The agency has pulled the file on Kaimi going all the way back to my reports. Anything that has been declassified has been sent over to the FBI,” Albert said.

“What does that mean?” Dante put their plates in front of them.

“It means they have no idea where he is.” Bob attacked a mouthful of dinner.

“It means they’re looking for something.” Albert gave Bob a pointed look. “They must think there’s something in those files that will point them in the right direction. They wouldn’t even think of digging through years of paperwork without the need.”

Dante ran his hand down his face. His weariness overcame him. He didn’t want to be here. The truth was, he didn’t want to be anywhere without Laurie.

“Which isn’t going to be very helpful to us until they find a new lead.” Dante shook his head. “We could be waiting for weeks just to hear something.”

“Not if we find the connection first.” Albert smiled.

“How are you going to do that without the bloody files?” Bob pointed his fork at Albert. Albert looked at him, his grin widening. “Don’t tell me you’re going to pull the file out of your hat.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not. I have it on a thumb drive.” Albert took a large bite out of his spaghetti. Bob and Dante both stared at him.

“Do you have updated information on Kaimi? More than just your own work?” Dante leaned forward.

“Up to the last CIA report about a year ago. Nothing leading up to the kidnapping or since then, but if the FBI wants all of those files, then we do too.” Albert gave a nod of finality.

“How come you haven’t said anything about this until right now?” Dante lifted his hands in frustration.

“Wasn’t relevant at the time.” Albert shrugged. “But now it is.”

Dante shook his head.

“Well, let’s hope we can figure something out before anyone figures us out.” Dante poked at his dinner.

“Oh we will.” Albert took a long drink of water. “The CIA will only send over the declassified files to the FBI. I have all of the files.”

Dante looked at his father, who grinned like he just won an Olympic medal. Dante laughed. Of course, his father had the classified files.

“Do you have a computer here?” Bob looked at Dante. Dante’s brow knit.

“No. I don’t. I can check around. I’ll see if they took Max or David’s with them when they cleaned up the house. I’m sure Cheyn came back for his. Mine went with me to the other safe house in Kona.” His eyes flicked up to the second level of the house, and then back to the table.

After dinner, Dante led Albert and Bob upstairs. He paused over the spot where David died. He felt his pack grow heavy, his shoulders slumped with the weight. Dante’s mind wandered over that night. The alarmed cry from downstairs, the sound of gunfire, the smell of blood and sweat, Laurie’s tear soaked face as he half-dragged her out of the house. They all flashed in his memory.

“Son?” Albert grabbed his shoulder. Dante shook himself out of it.

“Yeah—sorry.” Dante moved further down the hall.

Albert and Bob exchanged glances, but said nothing.

Dante threw his pack into his old room. He told Bob to take Laurie’s. Then he entered Max’s old room with his father. One glance told him all of Max’s things were gone. The room hadn’t been cleaned, but his belongings had all been removed. Dante went into David’s room next. All of David’s belongings were still there. His wife was probably about to give birth, or had just given birth. David’s sparse belongings were probably not her highest priority. Dante crouched beside the bed, peering under it, where he had seen David stow his laptop. It was there, waiting for him like a parting gift. Dante scooped it up and dumped it on the bed.

“It’s still here.” Dante’s chest lifted and he said a silent prayer of thanks.

“Good. Let’s tell the rental car company we’ve decided to stay at the campsite for a bit longer. I’ll cancel the motel and postpone the boat. We’ll need time to analyze the data.” Albert took the laptop from the bed.

“We should keep the rental to go for groceries. I can hike up to the campsite tomorrow and take care of that.” Dante sat down heavily on the bed. Bob and Albert nodded.

“How do you want to work this Albert?” Bob gestured to the laptop.

“We can each take shifts with the computer. We’ll read the reports. Mark down any significant locations that are mentioned. We can start a matrix with the report name, location, and page number so we can go back to it. If a certain location has a lot of significance—a reported hide out, or if the CIA suspected someone gave Kaimi cover, then we’ll have a clear record of it. If something keeps popping up, that will stand out too. Get some sleep. We can start on this first thing tomorrow.” Albert set the laptop on the bedside table.