Murder in Maui

by R. Barri Flowers

  Leila could not believe her house had been hit by thieves. And for what? Things that would only be considered valuable to her. She could just imagine what her mother would say. Probably blame her, while hoping this would be the trigger to get her to move back home.

  * * *

  “Are you going to be all right?” Seymour gazed down at her as CSI collected evidence.

  “Not sure,” she admitted, hating that her space had been violated. It was bad enough that they were in the middle of a difficult homicide investigation. Now this. What could go wrong next?

  “Don’t sweat it. Could’ve been much worse. The important thing is they’re in custody now and no one, especially you, got hurt.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder and Leila instantly felt better. She spied Fujimoto looking their way without comment.

  “You’re right,” she told Seymour. “Unfortunately I still have to clean up this mess.”

  “But not alone.”

  She wasn’t too proud to have his help. “Thanks.”

  Fujimoto walked up to them. “Looks like they cut the wires to your phone line, disabling the security system. You should think about investing in a wireless system.”

  Leila bit her lip. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  He glanced at Seymour and returned his gaze to Leila. “We should be out of your hair in no time.”

  Leila wondered if Fujimoto was actually jealous when she’d never given him any reason to believe she was interested in him.

  “Do what you need to. I don’t want any wiggle room for them to get off lightly.”

  “You and me both.”

  After Fujimoto left, Seymour asked, “What’s his problem?”

  Leila batted her eyes innocently. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  “Then why should I?”

  “I don’t really feel like cleaning this right now.” She looked at him. “Do you mind if I stay at your place tonight?”

  She didn’t mean to put Seymour on the spot. Or maybe she did.

  “Not at all,” he said. “I’d love the company. And you can stay as long as you like.”

  Leila felt relieved. “Only till my place becomes livable again.”

  “Which could be a matter of interpretation.”

  Leila smiled. It was probably the closest he had come to indicating they were in a real relationship where each could actually depend on the other for something beyond a sexual connection.

  Not that she had anything against sex with him. Far from it. But right now, she was content to have his companionship.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Adrianne Pompeo readied herself for a new job as a physician assistant at the South Shore ER. The pay was less than her last job, but the responsibilities were just as great and they seemed to respect her abilities more.

  Adrianne mused about the deaths of Elizabeth Racine and Larry Nagasaka, followed by Douglas Brennan’s demise. There would be no tears shed by her. As far as she was concerned, they all got what they deserved. That’s what happened to people who thought they were better than everyone else. Or looked down on people like her and took them for granted, dismissing them without even giving it a second thought.

  She hated being hauled down to the police station like a common criminal with those detectives thinking they had everything figured out. The truth was they didn’t know the half of it. If so, their case would already have been solved and everyone could pat themselves on the back for a job well done.

  Instead they were searching for something right in front of their faces and couldn’t see it.

  Adrianne flashed a devious smile while applying cherry lip gloss to her mouth. Her thoughts shifted to the new man in her life. His sexual desires were a bit kinky, even by her standards. But she could live with that, given his other qualities.

  Ironically he was a doctor, but one she seemed in sync with for the ways that counted most.

  A knock on the door gave Adrianne a start. She hadn’t been expecting any visitors at this time.

  It occurred to her that the detectives could be back, ready to harass her again in hoping to extract a confession.

  When hell froze over.

  Adrianne opened the door. She arched a brow. “Hi. I thought you didn’t want to meet until after my shift.” She was pushed backwards into the apartment. “Hey, what was that about?”

  Adrianne recoiled when she saw the gun whip out and point at her.

  “Whoa! Is this a joke or something?” Her voice trembled. “If so, it’s not very funny.”

  Adrianne realized in that moment she had misplayed her hand and it would cost her dearly. Before any other thoughts could flood her head, she heard the pop. Then another in rapid succession.

  She felt the piercing pain in her chest and crumbled to the floor. It was obvious to Adrianne she was about to be murdered.

  And there wasn’t a thing she could do to prevent it.

  * * *

  The doer watched as Adrianne Pompeo fell flat onto her face. Though seriously wounded with a pool of blood spilling from her back, she was still breathing and that could not be allowed.

  Moving right over her, the doer took aim at the back of Adrianne’s head and pulled the trigger again. Part of her head separated from the rest and the tremulous reflex movements of her body came to a halt.

  Satisfied Adrianne had breathed her last breath, the doer grinned and then prepared to make a quick exit. It was important to stay ahead of the authorities at all costs. Failure was not an option.

  With the mission completed, the doer sidestepped the corpse. The lights were turned off and door closed, before the intended escape route went as planned with no resistance.

  * * *

  Leila arched her back and relished the hot feel of Seymour’s calloused hands caressing her nipples and breasts as she lowered herself onto his covered erection. She involuntarily contracted when he was deep inside her and watched the satisfaction light her lover’s face. She began to move up and down him slowly, body trembling ever so slightly while her knees pressed against Seymour’s hard nakedness. He began to stroke her pubis, driving Leila mad with delight.

  “Kiss me,” Seymour demanded, urging her down.

  “I’ll kiss you.”

  Leila fell onto his face with her mouth, kissing his eyelids, nose, and then finally his waiting lips. He seemed to take over from there, sucking her upper lip, then lower, before putting his tongue in her mouth.

  She’d gotten used to his taste, turning her on even more as their open mouths pressed tightly.

  Seymour easily flipped them over into the missionary position and propelled himself into Leila time and again as she met him halfway, running her fingernails across his back, fighting to hold off her orgasm for as long as possible.

  When it came, her legs were splayed wide and body elevated from the bed, as Leila clung to Seymour’s erection and absorbed his own powerful climax.

  He fell on top of her and their sweaty bodies quivered together as the sounds of sex quieted.

  “I think we managed to take my mind off the burglary,” Leila murmured.

  Seymour took a breath. “Maybe we ought to thank the burglars.”

  “I wouldn’t go quite that far.”

  “Neither would I. Still, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.”

  Leila had never spent the night at his house. She wondered if it was a sign of things to come. Was Seymour really prepared to share his personal space with someone other than his wife?

  Leila also considered the implications of breaking new ground for her in this relationship. She didn’t want to get hurt, even if she was realistic about their future.

  The phone rang.

  Seymour cursed. “Better get that.” He rolled off her and grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand.

  Leila propped on an elbow while listening to him. It was obvious the news was not good for someone.

  “What is it?” she asked when he hung up.

  �
��Adrianne Pompeo was found shot to death tonight.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Seymour felt it was a definite downer to be called back to duty after making love. But this was precisely the situation he and Leila found themselves in with the news that Adrianne Pompeo had been found murdered. The fact that the M.O. had all the markings of the serial killer they were tracking made things that much worse.

  Careful not to contaminate the crime scene, Seymour moved to other side of the corpse. She was lying flat on her stomach, fully clothed. He guessed she had been shot three times—once in the back of the head, execution-style. Like the others, the unsub obviously wanted to be sure Adrianne never saw another day.

  “She probably knew her attacker,” he told Leila. “With no indication of forced entry, we have to assume Pompeo let the killer in. Maybe she was expecting whoever it was.”

  “Either that or she was expecting someone else and got the surprise of her life.”

  “More like the surprise of her death.” Seymour gazed again at the decedent. “Someone chose to silence her permanently.”

  Leila frowned. “But she wasn’t a doctor. Why break the pattern now?”

  “Maybe she knew something the killer didn’t want to get out.”

  “Like the killer’s identity?”

  “That would be my first guess.” He turned to the CSI at work. “I want this place combed from ceiling to floor for any clues the killer may have left behind.”

  “And anything else about the victim that can tell us what she couldn’t that may have led to her death,” added Leila.

  They bypassed the police photographer documenting the death scene and made their way to the bedroom.

  Seymour noted the bed was made, giving no indication it had been the scene of sexual activity prior to the murder.

  He watched Leila pick up something with her gloves. “Looks like an appointment book,” she said.

  “Anything in it for today?”

  “Says she had plans to meet a Victor after work—at eight a.m. for breakfast.”

  “So she must have been on her way out the door rather than coming home when the attack occurred,” Seymour said. “Wonder if this Victor decided to make their date earlier?”

  “Maybe we should ask him.”

  Seymour spotted the blinking message light on the phone. After donning latex gloves, he pushed the play button.

  “Hi, it’s Victor. Can’t wait to see you again. Maybe we can pick up where we left off. See you soon.”

  It made Seymour think about where he and Leila had left off before they were interrupted. He glanced at her. “Sounds like he was really into Adrianne.”

  “Or wanted her to think that.”

  Seymour lifted the phone and saw the last message came from Victor Crowe at nine-fifty p.m. Or less than an hour before a neighbor heard gunshots and found Pompeo dead.

  “Let’s track down Victor. Now that the killer has upped the ante, it puts us and more possible victims in an even more unenviable position.”

  * * *

  Turned out that Victor Crowe was a urologist who worked at Maui General. Leila and Seymour pulled him aside to talk.

  “You said this concerned Adrianne?” he asked.

  Leila studied the thirty-something, stocky man with a receding hairline and goatee. “I’m afraid we have some disturbing news. Ms. Pompeo was killed tonight.”

  “What?” His head snapped back.

  “She was found shot to death in her apartment,” said Seymour.

  Victor wiped his mouth. “I can’t believe this. Was it a break-in or what?”

  “We don’t think it was a burglary.”

  “Then why?”

  Leila lifted her chin. “We were hoping you might be able to help us with that. Your message was the last one left on her voicemail. Also, we understand you had a date with her in the morning?”

  “Yeah. We both work the night shift so I was going to take her out for breakfast.”

  “How long have you been seeing Adrianne?”

  “Not long.”

  “And when did you last see her?”

  Victor mused. “Two days ago.”

  Seymour stepped forward. “How long have you been at the hospital tonight?”

  “Since eight o’clock.”

  “We’ll need to verify that.”

  Victor’s brows bridged. “You think I killed Adrianne?”

  “It’s just routine,” Leila answered. “That said, everyone who knew her is a suspect until proven otherwise. I’m sure you understand.”

  He nodded. “Do whatever you need to.”

  “Did Adrianne ever tell you she was feeling threatened by anyone?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Did you meet any of the people she knew?”

  “Only a girlfriend. I think her name was Melissa.”

  Leila cocked a brow. “Would that be Melissa Eng?”

  “Couldn’t tell you her last name, sorry.”

  Leila described her.

  “Yeah, that sounds like the woman I met,” Victor said.

  Leila exchanged looks with Seymour and wondered if it meant anything that Adrianne and Melissa happened to be friends—before one of them was eliminated from the picture.

  Leila gave him her card. “If you happen to think of anything else that might be helpful, give me a call.”

  * * *

  After they checked out Victor’s alibi, Leila and Seymour left the hospital.

  “What do you make of Pompeo being in bed with Eng, so to speak?” Seymour asked Leila.

  “Not sure,” she admitted. “Could be nothing more than two frustrated women who bonded over their shared misery. Or maybe they were both in on killing Nagasaka, Racine and Brennan, with one deciding she was better off going it alone since a dead partner in crime couldn’t talk.”

  “If Eng was involved in this, you can bet her nephew Travis Takamori probably also played a role. Possibly as the triggerman.”

  Leila twisted her lips thoughtfully. “Meaning he or Melissa could decide to take the other out if fearful enough their blood bond wouldn’t hold up under pressure.”

  “Let’s bring them in and see if we’re onto something before it reaches that point. Or maybe we’ll discover we’re looking in the wrong direction.”

  “Hey, Adrianne’s definitely dead. All we can do is keep digging and hope we’re not the ones who end up buried.”

  “Yeah, remind me to get out my shovel when we get back to my place.”

  Seymour wondered how long they would share the residence, as Leila’s house was still uninhabitable, thanks to the thieves and vandals. He felt comfortable enough having her in his bed, even though Seymour would have preferred Mele next to him when he woke up in the morning. But miracles rarely occurred. Settling for the next best thing was not exactly a sin, even if it felt like one.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Vice Detective Jonny Chung and his team surrounded the house on Hauoli Street in Ma’alaea. It had been under surveillance for two months as part of a drug sting operation. The goal was to put local drug dealers out of business, thereby scaring off dealers from the Mainland who might be thinking about setting up shop on the island.

  Chung wanted this to go down as planned. Not only would a few arrests and confiscation of cocaine, crack, and methamphetamines make him look good with the department, it would be the perfect cover for taking a cut of the drug profits from bigger fish. He had set this up carefully, making sure the big drug dealers the department wanted most were nowhere to be found. Instead, he would give them some low level dealers and everyone could go home happy. Especially him.

  With everyone in place, Chung considered what would happen were this to blow up in his face. It was worth the risk, considering what he gained in helping to finance his retirement someday.

  He sucked in a deep breath and then gave the go ahead for the operation to move full steam ahead.

  With guns drawn, the team barreled its way through the fr
ont and back doors, prepared to do whatever was necessary to anyone who resisted.

  “Keep your hands up where we can see them!” Chung shouted, spotting Travis Takamori getting high.

  Travis put his thin arms straight up and offered no resistance as other males and females were rounded up.

  Chung was glad to see everyone was very cooperative, like they were sleepwalking. Or maybe they were scared to death of the police. Either way, the result was the same.

  Chung approached a room at the back of the house. The door was partially shut. “If anyone’s in there, better get your ass out here right now or face the consequences!” He positioned his weapon, nodded to fellow detective Hollis Schmidt, and kicked the door open.

  “Don’t shoot!” the woman said, her arms up.

  He recognized her as the lady of the house, Melissa Eng, who with her nephew, Takamori, had a nice little drug operation going. Chung almost hated to have to put them out of business, as he would’ve welcomed getting a piece of the pie. But there were bigger fish in the sea.

  “Get her out of here!” he ordered. “I’ll make sure there are no stragglers hiding.”

  Schmidt nodded. “You heard the man, move!”

  Chung waited till they were gone and quickly moved toward the closet where he’d been told some money would be left for him in a box.

  He found it, riffling through the new hundred dollar bills, before stuffing them in his pocket. Resisting the urge to get greedy by taking some of the drug money left behind by users, he moved to the center of the room just as Schmidt returned.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  Chung gave a half grin. “Yeah. I checked the closet and didn’t find any junkies hiding out. Let’s get outta here!”

  No sooner had they entered the front room when Chung saw Detectives Seymour and Kahana from homicide IDing themselves and entering.

  What the hell were they doing here?

  Chung smiled. “Hey, you two.”

  “What’s going on here?” Seymour gazed at him.

  “We just took down a drug house. Why are you here?”

  Leila widened her eyes. “We came to talk to Melissa Eng in connection with a homicide tonight. Thought we might find Travis Takamori here, too.”