The Strike Force heard the rifle shot. Sheriff Hartman sent Draper and several deputies after the shooter.

Jimmy Quint ran through the woods. The three deputies fired after him, then ran after him. Draper and the deputies crashed through the underbrush. They made much noise.

Draper approached Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty. "He got away, Sheriff.

Rafferty said, "What did he look like?"

Draper said, "Sunburned, skinny and hairy."

Rafferty said, "Jimmy Quint."

Hartman was amused. "He's still a lousy shot."

Rafferty was not amused.

Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty walked to a Sheriff's Department helicopter. A bumper sticker on the runner read "If you can read this, you're too close." Alice Taylor, the pilot, waited there. With man-hungry eyes, she looked Rafferty over, practically licking her lips over him.

Alice gave him her best smile. "I'm Alice Taylor. What's your name?"

"Rafferty. Just Rafferty."

They all climbed into the chopper, Rafferty beside the pilot, and Hartman in the back. After a minute of warm-up, the helicopter leaped straight up into the air. The pilot spun the tail 360 degrees and flew off fast.

The helicopter skimmed the treetops at full speed. Inside Rafferty and Sheriff Hartman watched the landscape zipping under them. All wore headphones.

Rafferty realized Alice kept turning her head to look at him. In fact, she was paying more attention to Rafferty than to the sky ahead of them.

Alice told Rafferty, "I've got tomorrow afternoon off. I'd love to spend it with you. How about lunch and drinks?"

Sheriff Hartman was surprised and bemused.

"I’ll have to see what tomorrow brings," Rafferty said.

Alice seemed temporarily satisfied.

The helicopter skimmed over the treetops at full speed.

Alice told Rafferty, "Have you ever made love in a helicopter?"

Before Rafferty could answer, the chopper shuddered and bucked, and Alice goosed the stick. Then the chopper roared ahead.

Rafferty and Sheriff Hartman watched Alice flying.

Rafferty looked over his shoulder. "Is she always like this?"

"Only when she's flying. She's worse driving a car."

Alice looked back. "Did you say you wanted to walk?"

The Sheriff's car drove uphill in backcountry Hawaii.

Rafferty said, "Where are we going now?"

Hartman said, "Paula Grayson. Audrey Quint's sister."

Sheriff Hartman parked his car in Paula Grayson's driveway. Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty left the car and walked towards the house.

Paula Grayson, a housewife in her early twenties who wore braces on her teeth, saw them coming and stepped from the house to meet them. "Sheriff?"

Hartman said, "May we come in?"

Reluctantly, Paula Grayson let them inside her house.

Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty took turns telling Paula Grayson what happened to her sister and her family. She was horrified and anguished.

Paula disbelieved. "All of them?"

Hartman said, "Yes.

Paula wept and told the heavens above, "God help me!"

Hartman told Paula, "We need somebody to identify the bodies."

Paula wept and hugged herself.

Tomo Oteas lay in Nora's bed in her bedroom, pale and sweating, his body shuddering. Nora sat on the edge of the bed reading a thermometer. Henry Oteas stood near, not knowing what he could do, but waiting to help out.

Nora said, "He needs blood, Henry. Antibiotics, too."

"I give him my blood, " Henry said.

Nora was skeptical. "What's your blood type?"

Henry dug out his wallet and a dog-eared Red Cross card. Nora read the card, then shook her head.

"You're not his blood type," Nora said. "Neither am I."

Tomo stirred and whimpered. His eyes opened; he saw Henry and Nora hovering. Tomo said with great difficulty, "Peacocks—"

Henry was horrified. He told Nora, "I heard about the raid in jail. Jeremiah Quint's whole family got wiped out. Massacred. Even the children." With great difficulty, he said, "They had peacocks for watchdogs."

Nora didn’t understand what Henry was saying.

"I didn't connect it—" Henry said.

Tomo opened his eyes again. He was conscious and more aware. Seeing Nora, he said, "Nora?" And smiled as best as he could.

Nora said, "Tomo, were you at Jeremiah Quint's this morning?"

Tomo couldn’t hear her through with the pain. "I got shot—shot by that haole Quint."

"Tomo, did you shot anybody?"

Tomo shook his head.

Henry said, "Tomo, did you see anybody shoot anybody?"

Tomo shook his head. He whispered, "I'm sorry, honey. I got drunk and stupid."

Henry and Nora caught on; they were horrified.

Nora howled: "No! No!"

Yee’s Place was a roadside restaurant specializing in family style Chinese food. Sheriff Hartman and Rafferty ate Chinese lunch together.

Hartman said, "Jimmy Quint's no longer in Wild Banana Gulch.

Rafferty said, "How many other gulches are there?

"What made him go native?"

"About six months ago he met a woman in Washington and they fell in love. Three days later they got married," Rafferty said. "So off they went on their honeymoon. Off to the South of France. One morning they got up early, felt like going for a swim. A rip tide took her. He tried to save her, but she drowned. Jimmy's life crashed around him. He came here to hide out."

Sheriff Hartman was abruptly cold and distant. "A heart-breaker. Am I s'posed to believe it?"

"She was my ex-wife."

Hartman believed Rafferty, then grunted. "Now I feel stupid."

"Jimmy thinks I blame him for it," Rafferty said. "That he failed to save her. But I don't. And that's why I have to help him. To prove that to him. Any word on Eddie Ka’aina yet?"

"He's better. But he still has a long way to go.

"And his assailant?"

"Lester Rahler. He's still out there somewhere." Hartman was pensive.

"His father they call the Mad Dog."

"Nobody calls themselves Mad Dog unless they expect to be shot dead in the streets."

"Mad Dog got his name in the Oahu State Penitentiary. One of those classic hand-to-hand combat stories in the laundry room. He was separated from his homies, fought a duel to the death with some wacko. Mad Dog won by clenching his teeth on the other man's windpipe until he was dead."

"Christ!"

"Mad Dog himself was nearly dead by this time. It was a toss-up whether to carry him out or leave him for the scavengers. And it wasn't long before the legends started filtering out of the cellblock about the asshole who kills like a mad dog."

"And Lester's his son?"

Hartman remembered. "When I was just a deputy starting here, the Sheriff once had Lester Rahler arrested for biting an attack dog."

"Seriously—,"

Hartman said, "Seriously. " His voice was like ice. "Lester is a lunatic. When the heat came over him, you will have to kill him to stop him."

"Do you think Lester and Mad Dog could have whacked Jeremiah and his family?"

"They could have done it, yes."

"How is your search going for the killers?"

"Catching them will be easy. They're on an island. They got nowhere to run. And I've got the privilege of hunting them down."

"Good hunting, my friend. Be careful."

"Wanna ride along?"

"I've got to find Jimmy before he gets hurt or hurts someone else."

Lester and Mad Dog were together, with Lester driving. Lester fisted his truck horn, stuck his head out the window and screamed at the truck ahead of his.

"Are you deaf as well as dumb and blind!" Lester screamed.

A sugar cane truck, as big as a two-storied house, crowned by cane stalks, was blocking Lester's truck. At the first opportunity, Lester passed it like a rocket.