“Four years ago on O?ahu, they took fiftysomething big tigers after an attack and a bunch of sightings,” Janet said. “So, people gonna do what they need to.”
Nalu nodded. “It was pretty much hysteria. The sharks had no chance.”
Janet shrugged. “Better get them than they get you. At least that’s how I see it.”
There was no point in arguing. Everyone had their own theories about sharks, and yet they really had no idea what they were talking about. Taking out fifty apex predators from a relatively small area would have huge repercussions for years to come. And the shark who had done the biting was probably already on Moloka?i or Maui. Tiger sharksmoved.
As soon as they pulled up into the hospital parking lot, Nalu said, “Oh shit.”
There were vans and people all clustered around the entrance, andseveral photographers holding cameras with long telephoto lenses, as though going on a wildlife shoot.
“It was bound to happen,” Minnow said.
“You sure you want to go in there right now?” he asked.
“I’m not sure of anything.” Minnow was in no mood to be interviewed, nor was she prepared to make any statements to the press.
He nodded at a tall white-haired man dressed in an aloha shirt and wearing shades. “Look, there’s Mayor Lum.”
Wind blew a light rain sideways and the temperature was easily fifteen degrees colder than down on the coast.
“Let’s just wait here for a minute and figure out our game plan,” she said. “Iwouldlike to talk to the mayor.”
Two black-shirted security guards stood in front of the sliding glass doors, arms crossed. A woman in a tight red dress stood off to the side with Lum, holding a mic up to him. If Lum got airtime, Minnow wanted airtime too. No matter that she was in jeans and a tank top and a borrowed flannel shirt of Woody’s, or that her hair had coiled into a tangle from the brackish water shower.
“Let’s go,” she said, opening the door.
Nalu followed her, and as they approached he nodded to the two guards, one of whom was the one from yesterday. In his surf shorts and trucker hat, he looked like he could have been her son. No one else paid them any mind as Minnow walked near to where the mayor and newswoman stood and waited for them to wrap it up.
“So, in light of this new development, with Angela Crawford as one of the victims, will you be handling the case any differently?” the woman in the red dress asked.
Nalu whispered to Minnow, “That’s Linda Moore. Channel nine.”
“Not at all. I can assure you we will be organizing a shark hunt along the entire Kohala and North Kona coast if that’s what our Shark Task Force decides is necessary.”
Minnow’s ears perked at the termShark Task Force. Was there one she didn’t know about?
Linda’s hair whipped into her mouth. “Who makes up this Shark Task Force?”
“Scientists, DLWA members, a shark expert from California, fishermen, the Fire Department’s Search & Rescue, Hawaiians. I’m assembling it as we speak, to determine our next course of action. We want to assure everyone that our waters are safe for swimming.”
“It’s the ocean, Mayor. Could you ever really say that with certainty?” Linda asked pointedly.
“Of course, but we want to assure anyone coming for spring break or the roughwater swim that this is noJawsscenario. There’s no cause for hysteria.”
The guy was lying out of his ass, and Minnow felt a burning need to step in, but she’d have to wait.
“Did you bring in the mainland expert because the shark is a great white?”
“Yes. The shark that killed Stuart Callahan is believed to have been a great white.”
“Why delay the hunt any longer?”
“A shark hunt is a serious matter, not one we take lightly. You know, the Hawaiians have a relationship with sharks and we don’t want to step on any toes. It’s a touchy subject among some circles.”
“So you’re weighing stepping on toes with losing toes—or more. Is that right?”
Lum cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “You could say that, yes.”
