A heinous conspiracy—a volcano exacting revenge—an island paradise in anguish Having killed his father's nemesis and gotten away with it, Hilo, Hawai?i Chief Detective Koa Kane, is not your ordinary cop. Estranged from his younger brother, who has been convicted of multiple crimes, he is not from a typical law enforcement family. Yet, Koa's secret demons fuel his unwavering drive to pursue justice. Never has Koa's motivation been greater than when he learns that an elementary school was placed atop a volcanic vent, which has now exploded. The subsequent murders of the school's contractor and architect only add urgency to his search for the truth. As Koa's investigation heats up, his brother collapses in jail from a previously undiagnosed brain tumor. Using his connections, Koa devises a risky plan to win his brother's freedom. As Koa gradually unravels the obscure connections between multiple suspects, he uncovers a 40 year-old conspiracy. When he is about to apprehend the perpetrators, his investigation suddenly becomes entwined with his brother's future, forcing Koa to choose between justice for the victims and his brother's freedom.
Perfect for fans of Michael Connelly and James Lee Burke
THOUGHTS/REVIEW:
Conspiracy
Intrigue
Riveting Twists
Sounds amazing so far right? I enjoyed this amazing non-stop police procedural in one of my favorite places to visit in Hawai'i to follow Chief Detective Koa Kane's amazing adventures. I needed a change of pace and this game all I needed for a read that was not only a riveting revenge story but one that is full of heart too. This book had a great balance of a dedicated crime fighter and love for family. I love a complex character that has a great back story.
I have not read the previous Koa Kane Hawaiian Mystery Books 1 or 2 but I picked up quickly and after reading this installment, I am already ordering the other two books as part of my collection. This is going to come down as one of my favorite detective stories and I am a fan of Robert McCaw's intense writing that kept me up for way too late and immersed me into this amazing story line full of drama, suspense and the thrill of the hunt.
I highly recommend this book! You will enjoy it!
EXCERPT:
CHAPTER ONE
Disaster rode the gale force winds of Hurricane Ida
across the Big Island of Hawai‘i from the
southwest. Ferocious gusts felled century-old trees. Sonic booms of thunder
chased lightning bolts sparking through ominous black clouds. Torrential rains
pounded the mountains, filling gulches, and gathering into flash floods. On
Hualālai Mountain, one of the five volcanoes that make up Hawai‘i Island, ten inches of rain fell in a single hour.
Water cascaded into cracks and caverns, pouring deep into the earth. The
pressure of the floodwaters opened long-sealed fissures in the faults on the
west side of Hualālai. Water entered the volcano’s magma reservoir and flashed into steam. Steam under
astronomical pressure.
Catastrophe struck. Devastating news flashed through
the Hilo police headquarters. Disaster at KonaWili School on Hualālai Mountain.
Dead kids. Injured children. Stricken teachers. Panicky reports of a mass
shooter, a terrorist bomb, a deadly poison gas attack, or something even more
sinister. Confusion swirled like the storm still raging.
Conflicting disaster scenarios swarmed the airwaves as
Chief Detective Koa Kāne, Sergeant Basa, and four patrolmen dashed through
the downpour to a police helicopter. Why does shit always happen when the
chief ’s off-island? Normally, Hawai‘i Police Chief, S. H. Lannua, took the lead in
disasters, but ‘a‘ole i kēia lā, not today. With the chief preparing for surgery in
California, Koa would be the senior police officer at the scene. At least he
had Sergeant Basa, whose piercing dark eyes missed nothing. The
thirty-five-year-old, bear-like police sergeant was one of ten brothers, all
immensely proud of their Portuguese heritage. No one in the police department
topped Basa for reliability under pressure. In a crisis, he stood like lava
against every tsunami.
What the hell happened inside the school? Koa asked himself as the chopper rocked and bounced
through the vicious wind and pelting rain. When the helo rounded Hualālai Mountain,
an eight-thousand-foot volcano towering over Kona on the west side of the
island, Koa glimpsed the elementary school through the driving rain.
Emergency lights flashed from fire trucks, rescue
vehicles, and ambulances. Dirty yellow smoke obscured the south end of the
year-old elementary school. More emergency vehicles, lights blazing on and off,
converged on the scene from nearby Kona. The chopper’s radio squawked horrific news—more than fifty
children and teachers dead or injured. The mayor had activated the disaster
management plan for the western side of the island. Nine-one-one operators were
alerting all medical personnel to report to their emergency stations.
Wind slammed the police helicopter while it circled
the school grounds waiting for a fire department medevac chopper to lift off
and another to land on the flooded athletic field. Koa saw dozens of kids on
the soaked ground in front of the school, some on stretchers and others lying
helpless where they’d been
dragged. He’d seen
children bloodied during his Special Forces days in Afghanistan. Children
caught in the crossfire. Youngsters killed by misplaced bombs. The sight
sickened him then, but not like this. This was America. Kids should be safe in
school. Instead, they were dead and dying.
When the police chopper settled onto the soggy
softball diamond and Koa slid the door open, an overpowering smell of noxious
gases washed over him, burning his nostrils and making his eyes water. He knew
the awful smell—nearly everyone on the Big Island knew the odor of volcanic
gases—but the stench was strangely out of place. Koa glanced up toward the top
of Hualālai. The volcano hadn’t erupted in
over two hundred years, but it wasn’t extinct. Had Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of volcanic fury, erupted under the
KonaWili elementary school? If Hualālai went up, lava could rush down its steep slopes,
cutting highways, disrupting electrical power, destroying Keāhole airport,
and propelling death through the streets of Kona. The thought made him shudder.
Despite the torrential rain, thundering like a
waterfall, firemen with two-and-half inch hoses shot canons of water onto the
south end of the school building. In defiance, the water vaporized before it
touched the building, creating superheated steam clouds whipped in all
directions by the wicked makani, the wicked winds. Try as they might, firefighters
couldn’t get close to
the south end of the building. No amount of water dented the inferno.
Koa ordered the police helicopter back to Hilo for
reinforcements before fastening his poncho and dashing into the foul weather.
Chaos reigned around him. People ran everywhere. Kids and teachers screamed.
Since he didn’t yet know
what had happened, Koa designated the whole area a potential crime scene, and
assigned Basa and his patrolmen along with other cops from Kona to set up a
cordon around the school. The five-foot-eight, barrel-chested police sergeant
swung into action. Koa ran toward the building.
Firefighters in protective gear with breathing tanks,
along with EMTs and policemen with bandanas over their faces, dashed into the
north end of the building—the end away from the inferno. Others carried
children from the building to a pair of raingear-clad triage nurses who
categorized the injured. Green tags for the walking wounded, yellow tags for
the injured not in immediate danger, red tags for the critical, and black tags
for the dead. Way too many red and black tags.
Black-tagged kids lay in a row on the wet grass.
Unconscious, but still breathing, children occupied stretchers, covered with
makeshift ponchos waiting for ambulances or medevac helicopters. Youngsters
suffering only mild signs of distress straggled toward buses four blocks from the
building, guided by a phalanx of teachers. Anything to get the kids away from
the crippled school and out of the driving rain. Teachers, some with rain
protection, but many soaked to the skin, moved from one group to another trying
to account for all the students. Even as Koa watched, more doctors, EMS, and
nursing personnel poured in to help stabilize the situation.
Koa called Hawai‘i Mayor George Tanaka, stunning him with the gruesome
scope of the disaster. The mayor, saying, “This is the damned Education Department; that makes it
Māhoe’s problem,” hooked
Governor Bobbie Māhoe into the call. Koa focused on the most urgent
problem: “We need state-wide disaster help.” A rumble of tearing metal distracted Koa as a portion
of the school roof ripped away. “There aren’t enough
doctors or medical facilities on the Big Island to treat the injured.” He heard the
governor instruct his staff to alert Maui Memorial Hospital and the Queen’s Medical Center in Honolulu to prepare to receive
patients. Koa then requested additional medevac helicopters to airlift wounded
children.
“What the hell happened?”
the governor demanded.
“No one knows, Governor, but it smells volcanic. The
heat is horrendous. If Hualālai erupts, thousands of people in and around Kona are
in harm’s way. You
should put the national guard on alert.”
“Jesus,”
the governor responded. Both he and
the mayor fired more questions, but Koa had no answers. The politicians
demanded hourly updates, and the call ended.
Harry ‘Ōhai, the short, squat, titanium-tough Kona area deputy fire chief,
trotted by, heading into the damaged building as fast as his bulky gear
allowed. “C’mon,” he
yelled over his shoulder, “still got keiki inside,” using the Hawaiian word for children. Koa covered his
face with a handkerchief, like other police officers trying to rescue children,
and sprinted after ‘Ōhai. “We’ve cleared the
north end, but not the south classrooms,” ‘Ōhai shouted. Inside, they turned down the south hall.
Thick yellow smoke billowed at them. Heat blasted Koa’s face. ‘Ōhai turned into the first classroom.
Koa ran straight into the thick yellow smoke. The
rotten egg stench overpowered all other smells. He began to choke and dropped
to the floor as though back on the battlefield, crawling under the worse of the
fumes. The building rumbled and the floor vibrated. Turning into a classroom
marked First Grade, he saw a child lying on the floor ahead of him. He
scrambled forward, grabbed hold of the child, a little girl, and pulled her
toward the door. At the doorway, he scooped her up in his arms. Holding her
tight to his chest, he felt her shallow breathing. Still alive. Crouching low,
he dashed down the hallway. Coughing from the acidic smoke, he carried the
first-grader to safety.
Handing the child over to a teacher, he raced back
into the building. The smoke had grown thicker, and he again crawled down the
hallway. The floor grew hot. His eyes burned. He scrambled past the first two
classrooms before turning into another. The building shook. A deep growling
sound reverberated. He couldn’t see. He
banged into a desk, and then something soft. Another keiki. Choking uncontrollably, he became disoriented. Which
way to the door? Clenching his teeth, he told himself not to panic. That
instinct to remain in control had saved him many times.
Clutching the limp child, he inched forward. When he
hit a wall, he followed it until he reached the door. A hacking cough racked
his chest. He made it into the hall. Barely able to stand, he hauled the child
into his arms and stumbled forward. His eyes, the inside of his nostrils, and
his throat burned like acid. The hallway seemed to go on forever; he wasn’t sure he’d make it out.
Finally, he reached the entrance and stumbled outside. His lungs were on fire.
A teacher rushed forward to take the child from his arms. Koa gasped for air.
He couldn’t breathe. He
felt his legs go weak. The world turned gray, and he collapsed.
Reprinted from Fire and Vengeance with the permission of Oceanview Publishing.
Copyright © 2020 by Robert
McCaw.
AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT:
Robert B. McCaw, a seasoned attorney and veteran of many headline-grabbing cases, blends his decades-old passion for Hawaiian history with a life-long enthusiasm for crime fiction to create the compelling protagonist, Chief Detective Koa Kāne, in Death of a Messenger. A former US Army officer and judicial clerk at the US Supreme Court, McCaw’s firsthand military experience, legal expertise, and immersion in all things Hawaiian lend the characters in this richly layered thriller unparalleled authenticity. An avid photographer and part-time resident of the Big Island since the 1990s, he and his wife split their time between New York and Hawaii.
Death of a Messenger is the first novel of the Koa Kāne Hawaiian Mystery series.
