by B K Johnson
He was murdered shortly after Kekoa’s birth. It was determined by the Tokyo media to be a hit by the Yakuza for some unknown transgression. He had been found shot in a hotel room in downtown Tokyo. His assassin had never been apprehended.
Heartbroken at just 17, Loke returned to her sister Maile, who helped her through her pregnancy. When Kekoa was born, Loke allowed herself just three months to stay at home with him. She refused to nurse him, worried it would cause her gorgeous breasts to sag. Maile had known all along that Loke would not stick around to raise Kekoa, since wanderlust was so much a part of her nature. She would have withered away to be tied down to any one place for long. And raising a child was a lot harder work than dancing, to say nothing of the fact that it limited her to an audience of one. They struck a pact that Loke would be known as Auntie Loke, and that Maile would keep Kekoa as another of her hanai children.
Loke used most of the money Kei had given her to buy Maile’s small house in Kailua and to support her son. Maile bonded so wonderfully with Kekoa that Loke had no trouble at all allowing her to raise him. Maile was the epitome of an excellent mother, heavy bosomed, a great cook, gentle, affectionate, kind and patient. Loke went back to traveling. Never again did she allow herself to feel anything approximating love or compassion for any man, other than her baby son, and that only from a distance except for occasional visits.
Loke had considered herself too young to raise Kekoa, and Maile concurred, knowing how narcissistic her youngest sister was. She knew Loke just wanted to get her sexy and supple body back. To Loke, Kekoa was cute, but required constant attention. She had a career and enjoyed the thrill of entertaining audiences around the world, being the center of attention herself, reaping applause and accolades. She made another deal with Maile. She agreed she should never bear another child, since she was incapable of raising Kekoa. A simple laparoscopy and she was sterilized.
Dave sighed when she told him about her sterilization. His fantasy of marrying Loke and having a family had been utterly destroyed by Loke’s torture of him, but to know that it had never been possible to father a child with her left him cruelly bereft. He could imagine how handsome their son would have been, like all interracial children, melding the best of each race into a rainbow of ethnicity. He had also thought that Loke would make a perfect wife and mother, natural and graceful and complacent. He let his head drop to his chest, acknowledging the utter unreality of his earlier vision.
Loke chattered on and on about her travels and affairs. She spoke of how important her son had become to her, like a magnet causing her to return every 3-4 months to Hawaii to play with him as he grew into a handsome and serious young man. While he called Maile Mom, and Loke Auntie, he had been told the truth when he turned 12 years old and Loke introduced him to Leleo. Leleo wanted Kekoa to tour with them, but required Loke to use the birth certificate for his visa. It was then Kekoa learned of his Japanese heritage and deceased father.
For the next year, until he turned 13, Kekoa studied with other kumu hulas while Leleo and Loke toured. Unbeknownst to Loke or Maile, he tried tracing his father’s roots, and found out about the murder and Kei’s involvement with the Yakuza. He couldn’t understand how his real mother could have ever wanted a relationship with such a man, and was so afraid he would inherit aberrant genes from his dad. When he began touring at 13, usually just the summer months and for special 2 –3 week trips during extended vacation periods, he found he loved the spotlight every bit as much as his mother. He still called Loke Auntie, though, and never became accustomed to the thought that Maile was not his real mom.
When he turned 16, he had women all over the world gasping at his beauty. His masculinity asserted itself even as he swept his hips ever so seductively across each and every stage. His rhythmic foot work was hypnotic and powerful. Lots of women wanted to experience sex with him. He’d had his first affair with a woman in Australia. She was 30 to his 16, and he thought for a few weeks that he was in love. Kekoa never fessed up to Loke or Maile about his sexual encounters, but Loke was fully aware of how women considered her son to be a sex god. Loke didn’t object. She knew of, and encouraged, his sexual liaisons with women who were beautiful, whether or not they were older. Kekoa was showered with bouquets of roses and boxes of candies and clothes. Many an older woman courted his company. In some cases, they showered Kekoa with expensive gold and diamond jewelry. Loke was determined that her son would be heterosexual, and the earlier he demonstrated his ability to make love to women, the better she thought it was.
An incident at school changed everything. Kekoa had a good friend named Paul, a Caucasian boy related to the Robinson family, who owned the private island of Niihau. Paul came on to Kekoa sexually, and Kekoa refused his advances. He said he already had a male lover and that he had to remain true to that man. Paul was infuriated, and quickly spread the rumor like wildfire of Kekoa’s homosexual bent. Girls began to turn away from him and call him a mahu. Guys taunted him continually with being gay. Finally, he’d had enough. Paul was with another boy in the bathroom, and they were laughing and pointing at him when he entered.
Kekoa snapped. In his mind, he was not a homosexual or mahu. He didn’t know why it was so important to his mom that he not be gay, but he justified his one homosexual affair because that man was the love of his life. He wasn’t screwing just any guy, like some gay dude. He was in a committed relationship. He screamed at Paul and slammed his head into the bathroom mirror. Turning to Paul’s stunned companion, he brought his leg up and kicked him hard in the balls. Kekoa proceeded to beat the shit out of both boys, stopping only when the football coach came into the bathroom and restrained him while the vice-principal called the police.
Neither Paul nor his friend died, but Paul’s head was so severely damaged that his brain would never be the same. Kekoa was charged with aggravated assault and attempted murder. Julie Olson became his attorney since she was “manning” Bernard James’ practice while he was away from Honolulu on vacation. Hisao Yamamoto was the presiding Judge at the juvenile proceeding. Larry Young was the prosecuting attorney. And Tommy O’Malley was appointed Kekoa’s guardian ad litem.
Loke calmly admitted to Dave that she had already killed each person involved in that hearing but for Tommy. She also confessed to the murders of her sister, Maile, and the Koolau guard, Willi Akau. No one had listened to her repeated and strident claims that Kekoa was not gay and that the undeserved harassment that day compelled him to defend himself against false accusations. Loke was furious that every participant in the judicial proceeding accepted that Kekoa was gay. She blamed them all for Kekoa’s apparent suicide in Koolau while he awaited sentencing, since she believed he would rather die than live with the pronouncement of homosexuality.
“Now it is Tommy’s turn to pay for murdering my son,” Loke told Dave. She brought out the meat skewers again, and while Dave screamed for the tape recording, punctured them deeply under all ten of his fingernails.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“I haven’t been able to find out where Dave is, or what happened to him,” Rod informed Tommy. “I even hired a private investigator who checked on any woman named Loke. We went through the university extension registration, and Loke Sanchez was listed. Her address doesn’t exist. I don’t know where to go from here. Got any ideas?”
“Her name is Loke, I know that,” Tommy adamantly asserted. “I think Dave indicated in one of our talks that she lived somewhere on the north shore, maybe Kailua. He followed her home a few times, just to make sure she got home safely, without letting her know. I remember him mentioning he’d forgotten what a beautiful trip it was driving through the Koolaus. Can you get a voter registration list, or check out the Oahu Recorder’s office for any properties on the north shore owned by a Loke or Rose? The name is interchangeable in the islands.”
“Can’t you come over and help us? queried Rod. While he was concerned about Dave, he knew Dave was a big boy who could handle himself and was probably just choos
ing to stay incommunicado with Tommy, getting back at her for not timely returning his calls. Rod felt like that sometimes himself. It was not pleasant having to wait for her to pick up the phone to stay in touch. It was as if Tommy couldn’t bear to keep close to her friends, like she still didn’t deserve them. He was anxious to dispel her of that feeling, and was more interested in using Dave’s absence as a tool to coax Tommy into coming to stay with him. Rod really liked her a lot, and wanted to pursue the relationship as far as Tommy was willing to go.
“I can’t leave the Gage investigation just yet,” Tommy replied. “This afternoon I’m attending the questioning of Daniella, and am being allowed to watch it from the viewing room. Detective Jameson, who is handling Daniella’s arrest, has agreed to let me suggest some areas of inquiry while he conducts the interview. We want to make sure to cover all our bases. Even though she has consented to the interview, and confessed, and refused counsel, there are a lot of questions that have to be answered.”
“At least, they’ve dropped all charges against Geoff, and authorized the release of his bond,” Tommy continued. “He’s happy with my services to date, and has paid me a small fortune as a thank you. He doesn’t see the need for me to continue any further, so I’m on my own from here on in. But I want to learn as much as I can about Daniella and her motives. For such a young woman, she quite brilliantly covered her tracks and led us astray. Why she tried to implicate her mother Michaela after the police turned away from trying to convict Geoff and seek another suspect is beyond me? She established an alibi for herself during the suspected killing, but confessed after all that trouble. What is that all about?” she rhetorically asked.
“Maybe she just hates her mom and figures this is the best way to pay her back for whatever transgressions she perceives. If she couldn’t get you to try to prove her mother’s guilt, and have her convicted and put away, then making her mom grieve her daughter’s sentencing might be the next best way to punish her. Whatever Daniella’s motives are, she is one fucked up little girl,” Rod replied.
“Well, her mother isn’t the greatest example of maternal affection, and from what I’ve gathered, her dad loved her to excess and spoiled her rotten. I’ll be sure to call you back after the session, and will be hoping you have some good news for me about Dave. If we can just find Loke, I’m fairly certain we’ll find out where Dave has gone. She was becoming such an important part of his life, and if he just decided to go away for a while, she’ll know. I don’t have any explanation at all for the call with his screaming, but I got chicken skin when I heard it. I can’t help but think something terrible has happened to him, and Loke might know who would hurt him. I certainly can’t think of anyone who would wish him harm.” With this last worry communicated to Rod, Tommy arranged to call him back at 6:00 p.m. that evening. Rod promised to do his utmost to find Loke Cabotaje, or at least her residence.
Tommy struggled into her jacket, and made a last check of her loft before leaving to go to the police station. This time she had dressed up, and looked every bit the practicing lawyer in an apple green cashmere suit, with a tight skirt and back slit, and fitted, tailored jacket. Her white satin blouse with green accents on the collar completed the look. High heeled taupe shoes with a 3” inch heel and matching purse turned the whole outfit into a fashion statement.
Her bright green eyes glittered with excitement and her curled, red hair bounced with her energy as she strutted through the gym to chat with Duke about her boxing match set for the next day. Every male eye in the room stole her way, and lingered on her amazing figure, haute couture, and confident walk. When she turned around after making all the arrangements with Duke, and surveyed the room, she was pleasantly surprised to see so many men appraising her. Most of them she knew, but they usually saw her in her sweats or boxing shorts, helmet and tank top. A few of them whistled, and a couple more applauded, letting her know in no uncertain terms that she dressed up pretty good. Tommy laughed, and curtsied slightly, embarrassed by so much attention. She yelled at them to get back to their routines, and sashayed out of the gym.
Once at the station, Tommy was reluctantly shown to the interview area by Sergeant Boxer. He was the desk officer of the afternoon, and he was not happy that Detective Jameson was allowing Tommy to observe and make comment about Daniella’s interrogation. He was a good friend of Robert, Tommy’s ex, and he never relinquished his conviction that Tommy was responsible for their tiny daughter’s demise.
Robert had tried to persuade him that SUIDS was the cause, and that Tommy was blameless. He’d long ago forgiven her, and was grateful she’d finally straightened up her act and gotten sober. Sergeant Boxer was just one of those guys who hated women who had careers and drank at all. They should just stay home, watch their babies, cook for the husbands, and be attentive to everyone else’s needs. He knew his position was politically incorrect these days, but, damn it, that’s what he expected from his wife. And he got it, even if he had to beat her occasionally to remind her that what he wanted was what she’d agreed to satisfy by saying, “I do.”
Tommy wasn’t too thrilled to have the sergeant escort her, either. Unbeknownst to him, his wife Maureen, had sought her help some years previously. Maureen admitted to Tommy that her husband beat her, but then he always apologized profusely the next day, bringing her roses and a bottle of wine to share. She continually forgave him, but was so ashamed when her two teenage children woke to hear the yelling and swearing and sounds of his fists punching the walls or slapping her around. Twice she had been to the hospital, once for a broken wrist when he dragged her into the bedroom and raped her. The last visit was for a concussion after he pushed her out of the house and she fell down the front stairs.
Tommy encouraged her to get a divorce and obtain a TRO, (temporary restraining order) against her husband. Maureen knew from other cops and their wives how ineffective TRO’s were, so she said she’d have to leave the area with the kids, and didn’t want to disrupt their lives like that. Tommy worked hard to bring her to an understanding that no one should be abused, and for children to have to listen to or watch such horrible behavior from their father was disruption in and of itself. It would also give them a message that this was how all marriages were. Maureen thanked Tommy for listening to her, paid her consultation fee of $200, and went right back to living the same old way. Tommy knew Sgt. Boxer looked and acted the professional good guy cop at work, but that his alter ego came out at home. And it was something she could never confront him about, because her communication with Maureen was confidential. Still, she didn’t have to like the guy.
Detective Jameson greeted Tommy warmly, and she gratefully accepted his arm as he escorted her away from Sgt. Boxer into the viewing room. They chatted amicably for a few minutes and he brought her up to speed with his line of questioning. Tommy gave him more inside information obtained from her independent investigation, and suggested he also probe the murder of Daniella’s father.
While the detective was reluctant to broaden the scope of his questioning, since he preferred pinning Daniella down with the specifics of Samantha’s murder, he recognized that Tommy’s idea was a good one. It would give them more ammunition when it came to sentencing, if she would also confess to doing in her dad. He firmly believed Daniella was an evil young woman who needed to be put away for a long time. But he feared bringing up any area of questioning that might add fuel to Michaela’s defense that her daughter was mentally ill. Being mindful of all that he had to do, and what he would attempt not to do, Jameson thanked Tommy for her assistance and walked into the interrogation room, taking his seat to the right. Tommy seated herself in the uncomfortable chair, and looked through the one-way window as a disheveled, handcuffed, and leg-chained Daniella was led into the room.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“So, what the fuck is all this about?” Daniella demanded of Detective Jameson. She had been led to her seat across from him and a young cop cuffed her legs to the chair. Her handcuffs no longer h
eld her hands behind her back, but had been moved so that she could bring her arms in front of her. She banged her fists against the table, and looked around the interrogation room. “And where the fuck is my coffee? These assholes,” she said, jerking her head toward the police officer still standing against the wall, “promised me I could drink some coffee with these fucking chained hands. I already confessed, so what more do you want? And who the hell do you have watching me behind that big one-way glass mirror. If it’s my slutty mother, get her out of there.”
“First,” replied Jameson very calmly, “you will refrain from cussing in my presence. Every time you swear I will stop talking to you, and this interview will last that much longer. I will have them bring you some coffee right now, but you will apologize to me and to this officer for your bad behavior and foul mouth.”
“Second, no banging of those cuffs on the table will be countenanced. You will restrain from utilizing your hands for any behavior I deem inappropriate, or I will instruct Officer Miller to again cuff your hands behind your back. I assure you, you will be far more comfortable with them in front of you. So behave.”
“Lastly, and in response to your question, I have determined that there are areas of concern that have not been answered in your written and witnessed confession. While I do not doubt that you did, indeed, kill Samantha Gage, I have to assure myself no one else was involved and pin down your motive. I am concerned about your alibi placing you miles away from the Gage home at the suspected time of death. I am not about to let any co-conspirator, like your mother, for instance, whom you may be trying to protect by having admitted to the murder, get off the hook. And no, she is not behind that mirror. Are you going to abide by my rules and answer my questions truthfully?”
“Yeah, why not. I just want this shit – oh, excuse me Officer and Detective,” apologized Daniella insincerely and with a nasty smirk, “over with. I can do the time and am looking to finding some sistahs in the big house who aren’t fuckin –oops,” she giggled, “pretend lezzies. They’ll unnerstan me and gimme more luv than Sam or Michaela ever did. May I puleez have my coffee now? I’m ready to lay it on ya.” Daniella was affecting this language to convince herself she sounded tough. She had been top of her class in high school and was a promising scholar. Maria Luisa tried to get her to apply to college, and Michaela had seconded that effort, but to no avail. For reasons neither could understand, Daniella had been on a self-destructive course since her early teens, and that in spite of years of counseling.
