“To all but one, and you might glean something more. I also want you to keep combing the area, and keep an eye out. Sounds like therehave been more tiger sharks around, too, if you talk to some of the fishermen. Something seems out of whack.”
“What are you doing about it?”
“We have shark signs up at the beaches near the incidents, but not everyone listens.”
“Will I have access to a boat?” she asked.
“Yep, and I have a stipend for you. Seventy bucks a day. It’s all I could get.”
Not much but better than nothing. “I’ll need a car.”
“I’m leaving this for you and Nalu. He can drive you around. My buddy lent it to me, it’s his farm truck.”
She got the feeling he was leaving something out but knew he had other things on his mind. Still, she planned on pressing him as soon as they got to the hotel.
On the way into Kailua-Kona town, they passed a boat harbor and a historic fishpond before turning down Ali‘i Drive, where they met up with the ocean. A short pier jutted out, and tourists cruised the sidewalks scantily clothed and burned pink from the sun. A manicured green lawn spread out around several old houses and a stone church. The setting was beach-town-touristy vibe meets old Hawai‘i.
At his hotel, a spaceship-shaped building, Joe took her to a late lunch. They sat at a table off by itself and he ordered a pint of beer right off the bat. Minnow stuck tolilikoijuice, which the waitress told her was passion fruit and that she swore by it. Joe excused himself and returned with a stack of manila folders. When he finally took off his dark glasses, she saw he had sea-blue eyes with a pronounced pterygium on one––too much time in the sun and salt water. He surveyed the ocean, a stone’s throw away, dark and choppy now from an onshore breeze and a blanket of clouds.
“These waters are hands down the most beautiful in Hawai‘i. Allthe way from South Point up to Mahukona area. You have this incredibly unique coastline that is mostly lava and little sand. That makes for clear water and burgeoning reefs. Plenty of fish. And plenty of sharks. Not as many as Maui, mind you, a veritable tiger pupping ground, but Hawai?i Island has its fair share.” He paused to gulp down half of his beer.
“Have you ever seen a white shark in Hawai?i?” she asked.
“Never. Historically, there are accounts, but they are few and far between,” he said, then added, “as I’m sure you know.”
She did know. Anything there was to know about white sharks in the Pacific, she had made it her business, her life.
“Can I see the photos?” she asked.
He slid her a file. “We don’t have much, other than what the emergency room staff took. I’ll warn you, they are gruesome.”
Minnow made sure the waitress was nowhere around, then opened the file withStuart Callahanscrawled on the front. The first photo was a close-up of a thigh with a clean, half-moon-shaped bite mark that spanned from hip to knee. Each tooth left a gaping red hole. She fought back the bile rising in her throat.
“Oh my God, the shark has to be huge,” she whispered.
“What’s your guess?”
She hadn’t seen a bite so big. Ever. “At least eighteen. Probably twenty? I’d need to measure it to be sure.”
“I was thinking the same. According to my measurements, the shark would be twenty feet long,” he said somberly.
“Only one bite?” she asked.
Joe nodded. “His father used his surf shirt as a tourniquet and got him to shore alive, but by the time he went for help and returned, Stuart had bled out.”
It would have been impossible to stop the bleeding from such a wound on his hip. But a father would have to try. Her heart went out to him, and she suddenly felt woozy. The thought of a father witnessing his son’s brutal death brought to mind her own story but inreverse. Only, Minnow had no recollection of the morning her father died. Perspiration beaded on her forehead.
“Is Mr. Callahan still on the island?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.
“Yes. He and his wife own a home at Kohola, and they spend their time between here and Palo Alto. They’re loaded, from what I gather. Private jet and the whole nine yards.”
“Did he get a good look at the shark?”
“When I interviewed him, he was still in shock and still sedated, so I tried to make it brief. You might want to hit him up again. He told me he saw his son and the surfboard go skyward and a huge dark mass launch up, displacing a ton of water. There was a brief thrashing, and then the water turned red.”
Her blood ran cold picturing it. “Terrifying.”
Joe took another swig, finished the pint and set it down hard on the table. A small amount of froth remained on his lip. “To put it mildly. But we know tiger sharks don’t generally jump out of the water like that, so that was our first clue that we were dealing with a different beast.”
