Murder in Maui

by R. Barri Flowers

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi. You think we can get together?”

  “In your car?”

  “No, this time I want to go inside. Maybe a hotel.”

  Gina smiled. “I’ve got a place right around the corner.”

  “That works for me.”

  She hesitated like before, as though he were a cop or killer, but got in.

  “So what’s your name?”

  “Trent.”

  “Trent’s a nice name.”

  “So is Gina.” Ferguson meant it as he thought of a girl he knew in high school named Gina. They had dated for a year.

  Gina’s place turned out to be a motel room. Ferguson wasn’t sure if the whole place was a front for prostitution or if the manager turned a blind eye as long as you were a paying customer.

  “How much?” Ferguson asked without prelude.

  “Fifty, and we can do anything.”

  He liked the sound of anything, setting two twenties and a ten on the dresser. Gina grabbed the money and stuffed it in her purse.

  “Get naked,” he ordered.

  Ferguson admired her body as she peeled off what little clothing she wore. He guessed she was about twenty-five or even a bit younger, but looked older because of life on the streets. He could feel himself getting hard. He removed his own clothes and grabbed a condom from the pocket of his pants.

  “I just want straight sex with you on top.”

  She licked glossy lips. “That’s cool with me.”

  Ferguson watched her glide onto him before closing his eyes and imagining she was his wife. Then he realized that wasn’t what he wanted. He preferred Gina for who she was.

  * * *

  Officer Long took a detour from making his rounds for an unplanned trip home. Ever since his girlfriend had sprung the big news about the baby, it had eaten away at him. He’d kept his thoughts to himself long enough.

  He lived in a fixer-upper on the South Shore. It was affordable and gave him the opportunity to use his hands.

  Carol was on the living room sofa, holding a glass of wine. Was it smart to drink alcohol when pregnant?

  She smiled. “You’re home early.”

  “Just tell me one thing: is it my child you’re carrying?”

  Carol stiffened. “Do you even have to ask?”

  Long didn’t back down. “How the hell do I know what you were doing when you left?”

  “I wasn’t with another man,” she insisted. “I stayed at my sister’s. It hurts that you’re bringing this up now.”

  He wished he had from the very start. “So sue me. I have a right to question this, especially since it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “No birth control is foolproof.” She sneered. “Do you want me to have an abortion? Is that what this is about?”

  Long had asked himself that very thing. The reality was he’d never want to get rid of his kid that way. So long as it really was his.

  “I don’t want you to do that.” He hated to see her cry. “Come here.”

  Carol got up and stepped into his arms. Long held her close. He hoped they could hang in there long enough for him to take the detective’s exam and make enough money to support them more comfortably.

  * * *

  At ten a.m. on Thursday, Leila conferred with Lt. Ortega, Seymour, and Detective Ferguson as Kenneth Racine waited in the interview room.

  “The man is as cool as ice,” she said. “Not even breaking a sweat. Is it all a façade? Or is he just empty inside when he’s not doctoring his patients?”

  Ortega ran a hand across his chin. “Could be Racine’s trying hard not to look guilty of murdering his wife and her lover and hoping we’ll buy it.”

  “Or the man is wondering what the hell he’s doing here while the real killer is still out there,” Seymour said.

  Ferguson frowned. “As far as the wife’s best friend is concerned, we’re looking at the one who murdered Elizabeth Racine. She could be onto something. He had the time to get the job done and make it back to the hospital without missing a beat.”

  Leila blinked. “Sounds like the stuff a TV movie is made of.”

  “Yeah. Except this is real life and there are no cameras to document the crime.”

  “I wish there had been,” she said sadly, as it would make their job easier if they were armed with hard evidence. She regarded the suspect through the one-way window.

  “Let’s see what the good—or bad—doctor has to say for himself,” Ortega said.

  Leila sneered. “I can hardly wait.”

  She went into the room with Ferguson. Seymour would watch the whole thing and see if he picked up anything they missed.

  “Thanks for coming in, Dr. Racine,” Leila spoke in a friendly voice.

  Kenneth’s forehead creased. “It sounded more like a demand to me.”

  “You’re under no obligation to stay. This is strictly routine, to cover our bases while trying to find out who killed your wife.”

  She hoped he didn’t call her bluff.

  He sighed. “So what is it you want from me?”

  Ferguson peered at him. “Did you know your wife was planning to ask for a divorce?”

  “What?” Kenneth hoisted a brow.

  “She’d had enough of a domineering husband and wanted out.”

  Kenneth’s lip curled. “Who the hell told you that?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Liz and I never talked about a divorce. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  Ferguson’s chin jutted. “Just like you never knew about her affair with Larry Nagasaka. Do you really expect us to believe you’ve been in the dark about your wife’s secret life and plans to go it alone?”

  Kenneth wiped his mouth. “All right, so I knew Liz was fooling around on me. What I didn’t know was that she’d become so damned good at lying.”

  “Maybe she had a very good teacher,” Leila said, favoring him with a stern look.

  “I didn’t mention knowing about the affair earlier precisely for this reason.”

  “What reason would that be?”

  “So you could point the finger in the wrong direction in your investigation into who killed Liz and Larry.”

  “No one’s doing any finger pointing. Not yet anyway.”

  Leila peeked at the window, wondering what Seymour and the lieutenant were thinking.

  Could Racine be guilty of this brutal crime? Or were they heading down the wrong road?

  “Let’s talk about your alibi,” Ferguson said.

  Kenneth stared. “I already told you that I was—”

  “I know and we checked it out. Problem is, there was a window around the time of the murders when no one seemed to know where you were. You could easily have gone to that condo with your own key and rid yourself of two problems and been back at the helm of the Behavioral Health Unit with time to spare.”

  Kenneth chuckled without humor. “You must think I’m quite a calculating bastard.”

  “Are you?” Leila tilted her head. “Did you kill your wife and her lover, Doctor?”

  “No!” He made a straight face. “I sometimes like to be by myself as a way to relieve stress. If I’d known I needed to be amongst a crowd while my wife was being shot to death, I wouldn’t have hesitated to do just that.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  “Yes, a nine millimeter automatic. I’ve had the gun for years and never had a reason to use it. You’re welcome to test it if you like.”

  Leila looked at Ferguson and back to Kenneth Racine. She had a feeling he knew they were looking for a .25 caliber gun, thereby testing his 9 mm pistol would be a waste of time.

  Admittedly, they had nothing to hold him on even if his story was shaky.

  Which may have been what he was banking on.

  * * *

  Gabe held Sal’s leash as they crossed the street and approached a red house. It was where Gabe’s girlfriend, or ex, Linda Waverly lived. This was his last ditch effort to try
and salvage what they had.

  Moving up the walkway, he sensed that even Sal knew there were no more tomorrows in this relationship.

  Before Gabe could ring the bell, the door opened. Linda stepped onto the lanai.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.” He looked her in the eye. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

  Gabe tightened his grip on the leash. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “It’s already done,” Linda replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t think we’re right for each other.”

  Gabe wasn’t certain he disagreed. It didn’t make this any less painful. “Why did I even bother?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should ask yourself that question.”

  His jaw tightened and he considered a comeback when someone else came to the door.

  The man, only half dressed, put his arm around Linda while glaring at Gabe. “Is there a problem?”

  Gabe restrained Sal from taking a bite out of the asshole. He met Linda’s empty eyes and finally got it loud and clear, as if he hadn’t before.

  “Not anymore,” he said, and walked away, while taking a deep breath and pondering his next move.

  TEN

  After work, Seymour paid a visit to his estranged wife. He hadn’t bothered to call first and ask if it was okay, knowing she would likely say no. There was something developing between him and Leila and before it went any further, it was time he and Mele had a talk. If their relationship was over, he wanted to hear it from her and move on, though with regrets.

  Since Akela was spending the night with her best friend Katie, Seymour didn’t have to worry about putting her in the middle of something she had nothing to do with.

  Mele opened the door and gave him a wide-eyed look. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “Not sure this is a good idea.”

  “Probably not, but I’m here anyway. Just give me a few minutes.”

  She stepped aside and allowed him to walk through. He could smell her lilac fragrance, reminding him of happier times.

  “Just say what you have to and leave.”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Not that he deserved such.

  “I think we need to talk about what happened.”

  Mele wrinkled her nose. “What is there to say?”

  “Say anything. Hell, hit me if it’ll make you feel better. But this silent treatment from you is killing me.”

  “Maybe you should have thought about that before you killed our relationship.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Are you saying it’s over between us for good?”

  Mele turned her back to him. “It was over when you decided to screw around on me.”

  “I did a stupid thing and I’m sorry. I never stopped loving you.”

  She rounded on him. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. I went looking for something I already had. If I could do it over again—”

  “You’d do the same thing!” Mele narrowed her eyes. “People only regret things after they’re out in the open.”

  “My regrets are sincere.”

  She scoffed. “That’s what they all say. Too little, too late.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “You think you’re any different from those murdered doctors?”

  He cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”

  “The case you’re working on. They were married people having an affair. Look what it cost them.”

  Seymour bit his tongue. “Their affair may have had nothing to do with their deaths.”

  “If they hadn’t chosen to forsake their marriage vows, they wouldn’t have both been in that condo for a killer to come after. Maybe it was punishment for what they were doing with each other, no matter why the crime was committed.”

  He frowned, feeling guilty, but refusing to believe adultery in and of itself should be punishable by murder. Even if some individuals took this act upon themselves. In his book sex between consenting adults, married or not, didn’t rise to such a level by a higher authority.

  “So what is it you want—a divorce?”

  Mele paused. “I think I do.”

  Seymour hadn’t wanted to hear those words. “We could try counseling.”

  “It won’t change what I saw.”

  He winced. “What about Akela?”

  “She understands there are consequences when you do bad things.”

  Seymour was beginning to realize there was no such thing as second chances.

  * * *

  Across Kahului on South Puunene Avenue, Rachel sat in a bar called Tides. She was nursing her second martini. It was how she often spent her evenings, alone and bitter, having little reason to go home. After all, with Greg dead, all she had was a cold bed instead of his muscular body to warm up to. If only they had been given more time to do the things couples did: make love till the wee hours of the morning, travel, and grow old together. Instead it had all been taken away from her.

  And for what? A war that had done more harm than good by taking lives that deserved to be lived rather than buried in some wooden box and forgotten by most of the world.

  Rachel’s eyes watered. Maybe she should have been more supportive of Greg’s commitment to serving his country. Instead she’d made clear her steadfast opposition to war and it had been a source of friction between them. She had hoped her love would be strong enough to get Greg to see things her way, but it had only put more distance between them. He had come from a military family and could no more extricate himself from it than Rachel could a family that had turned its back on her.

  Now she would give anything to take back the hurtful things she’d said to Greg. Even keep more of an open mind on his career path as he had hers. If only he were still alive so she could show him just how much she loved him. But he wasn’t and she would never again feel the touch of Greg’s lips on her face or his gentle hands on her body.

  “How are we doing here?” Rachel heard the bartender ask.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she muttered.

  “I’m a good listener.”

  Rachel looked up at the fifty-something man. “Not much in the mood to talk right now.”

  “Maybe some other time.”

  She doubted that, sure he wasn’t really interested in what she had to say. Probably no one was, which made it all the more painful.

  She downed the rest of the drink, tempted to have another, but passed it up. There was more of where this came from at home.

  Rachel got up and headed to her empty house even as she dreaded it.

  ELEVEN

  On Friday, Leila rode with Seymour to Honokowai to interview a physician assistant and member of the Medical Association of Maui who reportedly had spent time at the condo before she was fired six months ago for substance abuse. As with every case, they had to follow all roads in pursuit of a killer, even if it led nowhere.

  “Hope our killer isn’t getting restless,” Leila remarked. “At least not before we make an arrest.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. It’s only been a week, and my hunch is our killer is laying low, hoping this will all disappear.”

  “But what if that isn’t the case?”

  “Then we keep digging, waiting for the break that will crack the case.”

  Leila would have preferred that to be yesterday instead of tomorrow. Patience was never her strongest suit, especially where it concerned murderers running free.

  Maybe the woman they were going to see would end her misery and Leila could turn her attention elsewhere. Like going to her friend’s art show in two days with her partner.

  Adrianne Pompeo lived in an apartment on Lower Honoapiilani Road. Seymour knocked on the door twice and for a moment Leila thought she might not be home.

  Then th
e door was opened by a tall, slender woman in her thirties with curly brunette hair. A cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth.

  “Adrianne Pompeo?” Seymour asked.

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “We’re detectives from the Maui P.D. Wonder if we could ask you a few questions?”

  “About what?”

  “The murder of Larry Nagasaka and Elizabeth Racine.”

  Adrianne nodded. “I wondered what took you so long to come my way.”

  “We’re here now,” Leila told her. “Mind if we come inside?”

  “Why not? I don’t have anything to hide.”

  They stepped into a small, sparsely furnished living room. There was what smelled like meth in the air, telling Leila she was still doing drugs. Had it escalated to murder?

  “Why were you expecting a visit from us?” Leila gazed at her.

  Adrianne drew coolly on the cigarette. “It’s no secret I didn’t get along well with Larry or Elizabeth. He was a control freak and she could be a real bitch. But I didn’t kill them.”

  “So you say.” Seymour bristled. “You don’t deny being given access to the condo where they were killed?”

  “Yeah, I bribed Larry to stay there for a few days when I was between residences. But I wasn’t the only one in the association not amongst the privileged who got a freebie there every now and then. That doesn’t make me a killer.”

  “Tell us about being fired from your job for using drugs,” Leila said.

  Adrianne stiffened. “What do you want me to say? I screwed up. It was just a recreational thing and never a problem. Probably half the doctors and nurses there take something to get through the day. I shouldn’t have been made a scapegoat.”

  “Maybe you figured you would make someone else pay,” Seymour voiced sharply. “And why not two doctors who happened to make your life hell?”

  “Because it would only make my life worse. I don’t even own a gun, in case you’re wondering. Feel free to look around if you want.”

  Leila was tempted to take her up on that, but didn’t want to run into problems later should they find something incriminating.

  “We’d like to know what you were doing when Doctors Racine and Nagasaka were killed.”

  “I was here all by myself.” Adrianne took a last drag on the cigarette and squashed it in an ashtray. “If you’re looking for someone who had it in for Larry, why don’t you try Douglas Brennan? He divorced his wife after she was rumored to have had an affair with Larry. From what I understood, Mr. CEO didn’t take it very well.”