Rachel kept that in mind with Takamori being someone they definitely needed to have a talk with.
* * *
Ferguson managed to track down Travis Takamori at his aunt’s house in Ma’alaea. Turned out the aunt was none other than Melissa Eng, the housekeeper who cleaned the condo where Nagasaka and Racine were killed. She’d been fired when Nagasaka caught her stealing.
“I already spoke to the cops,” Melissa said nervously at the door. “I don’t know anything.”
“So I’ve heard.” Maybe she knew more than the she was letting on. “I’d like to ask your nephew, Travis Takamori, a few questions.”
Her eyes bulged. “Travis ain’t here.”
Ferguson frowned. “I watched him walk in that door not two minutes ago.” He made a quick identification after a background check determined Takamori already had a long rap sheet at seventeen. “And unless he or both of you have something to hide, I suggest you tell him to get his ass out here right now!”
Before Melissa could react, some shuffling noise behind her got louder and the door opened wider.
Travis Takamori stood there. He was tall and slim with a flattop. “It’s all right, Anake Mel. I’ll talk to him.”
“You don’t have to,” she insisted.
“No big deal.” He eyed Ferguson. “Let’s talk out here.”
“That’s fine.” Ferguson watched the suspect carefully as he closed the door on his aunt.
“So what do we have to talk about?”
“Why don’t we start with your telling someone on the phone that you took care of those doctors and enjoyed watching them choke on their own blood?”
Travis looked uneasy. “Where’d you hear that?”
Ferguson never took his eyes off of him. “You know I hate when people answer a question with a question.”
“I never said that!”
“Why is it I don’t believe you?”
“Maybe it’s cause you’d rather believe lies being told about me.”
“Why would someone want to lie about you?” asked Ferguson.
“How do I know?” Travis shrugged. “Probably just to give you cops something to do.”
“I’m afraid that won’t cut it.” Ferguson got in his face. “I think you’d better give me a good reason for not hauling your ass down to the station where I promise it won’t be pretty.”
“Okay, okay. So I said it. Don’t mean any of it was true. I was just messin’ around.”
Ferguson frowned. “You call taking credit for murdering two people messing around?”
Travis rubbed his nose. “Whatever. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Maybe you decided to exact a little payback because your aunt lost her job to those rich doctors by shooting them to death.”
“I didn’t kill anybody.”
Ferguson wasn’t convinced. “Are you still using?”
Travis blinked. “I’m clean, man.”
“I doubt that. I can see the crack in your eyes. But that’s your problem. My only concern is whether or not it helped you get a little cuckoo in doing something really stupid.”
Travis fidgeted. “I told you I had nothing to do with that!”
Ferguson backed off just slightly. If he’d thought for one minute the punk was carrying a piece, he would already have him in handcuffs.
“Where were you the night the doctors were murdered?”
Travis smoothed an eyebrow. “Hanging out with my girlfriend.”
“Does your girlfriend have a name?”
“Yeah, Jocelyn Dandridge.”
Ferguson set his jaw. “She’d better back up your story.”
“She will.”
That sounded a bit too pat for Ferguson, as if the alibi had already been manufactured. Time would tell.
“Be seeing you around,” he told Travis, sure it was more than just empty words.
* * *
Gina knew he was a cop, even if Trent wouldn’t admit it. She could smell the cop in him as sure as if it were the cheap cologne he wore. Not that it mattered to her. No chance she would be busted for prostitution by the john paying for her services.
As business was slow these days, Gina wasn’t in a position to pick and choose who she gave a blow job to.
Gina put his erection deep into her mouth till it tickled her throat. Once he took care of his business, she stopped and got off her knees.
“Why do you do this?” he asked, surprising her.
“Why do you come to me instead of being with your wife?”
He cocked a brow. “Who said anything about me being married?”
She laughed. “I can see on your finger where you usually wear a ring. No tan in that spot. It’s okay. Most of my customers are married. To answer your question, I’ve been turning tricks off and on since I ran away from home at fifteen.”
“You were being abused?”
“Not sexually, but my step dad beat the hell out of me and my mom. She chose to keep being a punching bag, I didn’t.”
“There was no one you could stay with?”
Gina wasn’t used to johns asking her these types of questions like they cared. Did he actually care about her?
“I’ve always been independent. I didn’t want to lay my problems on someone else. It hasn’t been so bad for me. I don’t do drugs and try to stay away from the creeps.”
“I’m glad.”
“Don’t your wife like to give you blow jobs?” she asked curiously. “Or would you rather not say?”
“She’ll do anything I want. Guess I’m just not feeling it with her these days.”
“Sorry. I was with someone once, but it didn’t work out. I didn’t see any reason to stay where I wasn’t wanted.”
“Are you saying my wife should leave me?” His brows stitched.
Gina bit her tongue. The last thing she needed was to alienate a regular customer.
“No, but maybe you should leave her and find someone you want to come home to.”
“Right now I’m happy to come and see you.”
Gina doubted he meant anything other than to get his rocks off. It was nice to hear anyhow.
“If you want to fool around some more as a freebie, we can.”
“I’d like that. But not as a freebie. You deserve to get paid for your services.”
She couldn’t disagree with him.
FIFTEEN
On Tuesday afternoon, Seymour headed to the Medical Association of Maui’s West Maui office with Leila for a chat with Douglas Brennan, the group’s CEO. They needed to check out Adrianne Pompeo’s story that Brennan may have had reason to want Larry Nagasaka dead, with Elizabeth Racine a victim by happenstance.
Seymour glanced at Leila. He wondered if she thought about their times in bed as much as he did. Maybe it was exactly what he shouldn’t be thinking about. At least not on the job. They were both professionals and had a case to solve.
There would be time later to explore their newfound relationship and where it was headed. Or not.
He gazed over the wheel. “Should be interesting to see how Brennan responds to having the finger pointed at him as the possible shooter.”
Leila faced his profile. “Don’t be surprised if he denies it,” she quipped. “CEO’s rarely ever take responsibility for anything that’s bad.”
“I think murder would fall under that category.”
“Yeah, it would.”
Seymour turned into the parking lot. “I think many killers want to be caught, especially when it involves love triangles, but they lack the guts to show up at the police station.”
“And make our job easier? I don’t think so. I doubt this killer wants to be caught. That would mean facing up to a double homicide and the consequences.”
“Our doer may just need a little nudging in the right direction.”
“You mean like Douglas Brennan?” Leila voiced.
“Why not?” Seymour brought the car to a stop.
* * *
&nbs
p; “Do you have some news on the shootings?” Douglas looked from Leila to Seymour in his office.
“Not exactly.” Leila met his eyes. “We’re actually here hoping you can answer a few questions for us.”
“Oh?” He arched a brow. “No problem, though I don’t know what I can tell you that I haven’t already said.”
“How about you knew your ex-wife had an affair with Larry Nagasaka?” She watched his reaction carefully, deciding to take a chance it was more than mere innuendo.
Douglas turned away. “Where did you hear that?”
“Then it’s true?”
He ran a hand across his mouth. “Yes.”
Seymour narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
“Think again, Doctor. When two people are shot to death in a condo where you not only had access but motive to kill at least one victim, I’d say it’s damned relevant.”
Douglas drew a breath. “My wife—ex—was involved with Larry over a year ago. We’ve been divorced for six months and are barely on speaking terms. If I had wanted to kill Larry, I would’ve done so when I actually still loved Courtney.”
Leila sensed the love hadn’t gone away. Perhaps not the bitterness either. “It couldn’t have been very easy to work with someone who had been sleeping with your wife.”
He frowned. “Of course it was difficult. The man was a bastard and everyone knew it. But he was also a good doctor. As the CEO of this organization, I was obligated to put aside our personal differences and maintain a cordial working relationship.”
“And did you?”
“We never came to blows, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Seymour batted his eyes. “All the same, clearly the big happy family and supportive work environment you indicated earlier was somewhat exaggerated.”
Douglas stiffened. “As you said, detective, even families can have their problems. Doesn’t mean they don’t still care for each other at the end of the day.”
“Someone didn’t care much for Nagasaka or Racine. That person may be part of your association. Indeed, it could be you.”
“I didn’t kill Larry or Elizabeth.”
“You’d better hope that’s more than just words, doctor,” warned Seymour.
Leila moved her feet. “We’re going to need to know your whereabouts at the time your colleagues were killed.”
Douglas flinched. “I believe I was home.”
“Can someone verify that?”
“I doubt it, unless you figure out a way to communicate with my cat.”
Leila put him down as another strong suspect to contend with.
* * *
It had been a while since Leila cooked for anyone other than herself. But inviting Seymour to dinner seemed like a good idea. They were both tired after a long day on the job and she could use the casual company, apart from their sexual relationship.
She made a typical Hawaiian meal of macaroni salad, teriyaki beef, poi dinner rolls, and fresh pineapple. Dessert would be coconut cake.
For his part, Seymour brought the wine and wasn’t late.
“This is great,” he told her.
Leila tasted the wine. “You can thank my mother the next time she comes to visit. I learned how to cook from her.”
“She taught you well.”
Leila knew her mother would not approve of Seymour as her boyfriend. Not that he was at this point. She would say he was too old. Too white. Too married. Too ensconced in his career.
The only one that concerned Leila mildly was that he was married. She didn’t make a habit of dating married men, estranged or not. But with Seymour things were different. She happened to be attracted to the man and couldn’t help that.
And he obviously felt the same.
Why look for ways to ruin a good thing?
“So how well did you know your grandfather?” Seymour bit into a roll.
“Not too well. We used to come and visit him every summer, but he was too busy with work to spend much time with me.”
“Think he would approve of your joining the force?”
Leila considered the question. “Probably not. I think he’d feel I could do better.”
“Maybe you could.”
She looked at him with surprise. “Are you suggesting I should retire and do something more feminine?”
“Not at all.” He wiped his mouth. “I just think you’re a hell of a lot smarter than I am and could probably be anything you wanted.”
“I’m happy with what I’m doing.”
“Then keep doing it. I certainly wouldn’t want anyone else as my partner.”
Leila blushed while admiring the way he covered his tracks. “Neither would I.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She wasn’t so sure of that. Word had it he was next in line for lieutenant when Ortega retired.
She hoped that wouldn’t be at least for a few more years.
* * *
“I like kissing you,” Seymour spoke between their open mouths moving in harmony. “But I’d rather save some of those kisses to enjoy the rest of you...”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Leila murmured.
Seymour pulled away from her lips and began kissing Leila’s neckline and down to her small, but firm breasts. He teased one nipple then the other with his tongue.
“Hmm...” she cooed.
He met his lover’s eyes for an instant, detecting slight abashment, but even more desire, before spreading her legs and kissing between them.
Leila ran her fingers through his hair and breathed heavily till her orgasm came. Only then did Seymour raise his head, eager to be inside her.
“I need you,” he spoke huskily.
She widened her thighs. “I’m all yours.”
After sliding on protection, Seymour began to make love to his partner. With her legs wrapped high across his back, he propelled himself into Leila, enjoying every moment. He was able to extend the passion through willpower, before the urge caught up to him and he let it happen.
They clung to each other and kissed when the moment came before Seymour rolled off.
He caught his breath. “You were great.”
“So were you,” Leila said. “Guess that makes us great together.”
“You’ll get no argument from me there.”
“Didn’t think so.”
Seymour kissed her again and held her close. He could hear her heart beating. Or was it his?
He agreed they had chemistry. But so did he and Mele, along with history. If he had things his way, Seymour would rather be with his estranged wife at the moment. But she had made her choice and it didn’t include him.
So he had to move on. Leila was doing a nice job to make him forget he was still married.
He hoped it lasted for a little while.
SIXTEEN
Douglas Brennan drove his BMW home while listening to classical music. Weighing heavily on his mind was the earlier visit from the detectives. He doubted he’d satisfied them as far as his alibi, but unless they were prepared to arrest him for murder, to hell with them.
He thought about his ex in bed with Larry Nagasaka, filling him with fury. How could she have humiliated him like that?
Douglas hated that Larry destroyed his marriage and also put unwanted attention on the association because of his philandering. The bastard deserved everything he got and then some. And so did Elizabeth for her poor judgment in getting involved with him.
Douglas pulled into the driveway of his house, wishing he had more than his cat Tully to share it with.
He left the car with his briefcase and headed down the walkway when he heard rustling in the bushes. His first thought was that Tully had gotten out.
But the sound grew louder and was clearly not a cat. Before he could react, someone emerged from the shadows.
Douglas cocked a brow. “What are you doing here?”
Without a response, a
gun was pointed at him. Douglas tried to shield himself with the briefcase as multiple shots rang out, hitting their mark.
Douglas fell to the ground. In great pain, he managed to look into the eyes of the killer before a final shot slammed into his face, shattering it.
* * *
The doer watched with satisfaction as the last bullet went into Douglas Brennan’s head. It was a fitting end to a pathetic life of privilege and excess.
Stuffing the gun in a pocket, the doer made haste in fleeing the scene. Through patches of darkness and around the block, an escape vehicle awaited.
The drive went without a hitch and soon the doer breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction over the latest revenge killing and focused on the future. It was sure to be brighter with one less burdensome asshole.
Passing a police cruiser, the doer instinctively slowed down, though well within the speed limit, and was careful not to even look their way. No need to give the officer the slightest reason to be suspicious, which could spell doom.
The fears proved unfounded, as the police cruiser continued on its merry way, unaware it had just passed a killer.
One who was not quite through righting some wrongs.
* * *
Officer Kelly Long took the call at 9:45 p.m. Shots had been reported fired in front of a home at 17806 Palms View Road.
So much for a peaceful night.
Not that he wanted to earn his keep by driving around for nothing. All that did was give him more time to think about the fact he was soon to be a dad.
A paternity test had proven the child his girlfriend was carrying belonged to him and not another man.
Long considered it a mixed blessing. Having a kid meant he had to think about someone other than himself. And a girlfriend Long wasn’t sure he could count on to be there in the long run.
He was scared as hell this would wreak havoc on a life that, up to this point, had pretty much revolved around a career in law enforcement. The last thing he wanted was to get in over his head. Or end up on the other side of a bullet, leaving his kid without a father.
Long pulled up to the house that was way outside his income level and immediately spotted the body. It appeared to be a man in a suit, lying on his back on the walkway. A briefcase was nearby.
Murder in Maui Page 9
