Chung tilted his head. “What homicide?”
“Adrianne Pompeo.”
Chung was aware of the case they were working on. “Afraid you’re a little too late. They’re both on their way to the station, charged with possession, dealing, and half a dozen other charges.”
“How long have you been here?” Leila asked.
“If you’re wondering about Eng and Takamori’s whereabouts tonight, we’ve been staking out the house for hours. They’ve both been holed up inside all night.” He knew this probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Eng and Takamori are definitely guilty of committing some serious crimes, but neither one took out Pompeo.”
* * *
Hours later Leila was trying to get her house back in order following the burglary, with Seymour still on the job. She’d always considered the place a sanctuary ever since visiting her grandfather here as a child. Now that the reality of today’s times had hit home, Leila could only hope an updated security system would make potential burglars think twice before invading her space again.
Convincing her mother of that was another problem altogether. As though equipped with telepathic skills or radar that something was wrong, she had called and compelled Leila to explain what happened.
“This is why I worry so much about you,” Rena complained. “Things have gone from bad to worse in Maui. If you can’t even feel protected in your home, how can you ever feel safe there?”
Leila sighed, realizing she could only hope to mitigate the damage. “This could have happened anywhere.”
“But it happened there—to you. What if you’d been home at the time? They could’ve killed you.”
“Not if I killed them first. I’m a cop, Makuahine. I can protect myself.”
“But not the house your Kapuna and Tutu loved dearly. Maybe next time they’ll burn it down and take away the memories forever.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Leila insisted. “We caught the burglars. They will be put away for years and the department will put more patrols in the area.”
This seemed to satisfy her mother for the moment.
“Do you want me to come and help out a little?”
Leila was quick to respond. “I appreciate the offer, but I have things in hand.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”
Leila promised to call her in a few days once some order was restored in her life. She hoped that included the case she was working on. With Melissa Eng and Travis Takamori no longer suspects in Adrianne Pompeo’s murder, that meant they had to follow other leads in nailing down the killer.
* * *
At seven a.m., Rachel awakened with a throbbing headache. She vaguely remembered being put to bed by Leila, whom she’d called after deciding not to drive home from the bar.
Dragging herself out of bed, Rachel listened to her voicemail. She got the news Adrianne Pompeo had been killed last night.
Rachel had slept through the call. She could only hope there was no fallout from it. Work was pretty much all she had to look forward to these days. Losing a job she loved was something Rachel didn’t even want to think about.
Not as long as she didn’t have to.
She hopped in the shower and wondered who might have killed Adrianne and presumably the three doctors before her.
THIRTY-FIVE
Leila brought a cup of coffee for herself and water for Melissa Eng into the interview room. She’d never suspected the woman was dealing drugs along with her nephew, Travis Takamori. While this turned out to be good news in letting them off the hook as murder suspects, selling drugs on the islands was taken seriously by authorities.
“Here you are,” Leila said, handing her the drink.
Melissa drank some water and frowned. “I was framed.”
“I saw the evidence. It seemed pretty convincing to me.”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Police frame people all the time to get what they want.”
Leila was amazed at how those caught with their hand in the cookie jar could still claim they were set up. Not that she could always discount the possibility, just not this time when twelve people were arrested in the sting with some already confessing to drug crimes.
“If you believe that’s the case, I suggest you take it up with your lawyer. I’d actually like to talk to you about Adrianne Pompeo.”
Melissa reacted.
“Do you know her?”
She hesitated. “Yes. Why?”
“Adrianne was found murdered last night.”
Melissa shook her head. “No way!”
“Someone shot her to death in her apartment. We think it might have been the same person who murdered Larry Nagasaka, Elizabeth Racine, and Douglas Brennan.”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re suggesting I killed Adrianne, then—”
“We know you didn’t do it. Your house was under surveillance with you inside at the time of the murder.”
“Then I don’t understand what you want from me.”
Leila sipped her coffee. “How did you and Adrianne meet?”
“She was staying at the Crest Creek Condominiums when I worked for the cleaning service,” Melissa said. “We hit it off.”
Leila wasn’t too surprised about that, all things considered. “Did you ever talk about the doctors who were killed?”
“Yeah, of course. We felt we were singled out unfairly by the police.”
“Seems like you just can’t get a break.” Leila nearly chuckled at the cynical comment. “Have you ever considered that everything you’ve experienced has been because of your own actions?”
Melissa pouted. “If you’re through with me...”
“Did Adrianne ever say anything to you about having knowledge of the killings or killer?”
Melissa tasted the water; then met her eyes. “Can you help me out of this mess I’m in? And Travis, too?”
Leila peered back. “I can’t make you any promises and won’t. However, I can put in a good word with the prosecuting attorney that you were helpful in our investigation, if that’s the case. Since Adrianne was your friend, I’m sure you’d like to do whatever you can to help, right?”
Melissa licked her lips. “Adrianne knew something, but didn’t say what. She just told me it was all about revenge and making people accountable. I never asked her who she was talking about because I didn’t want to know.”
“Probably a good thing for you,” Leila told her. “Otherwise you might not be around to deal with your current difficulties.”
* * *
That afternoon Seymour entered the crime lab in search of Gil Delfino, who was examining the bullets removed from Adrianne Pompeo. Preliminary results from the autopsy found that the manner of death was consistent with the deaths of Nagasaka, Racine, and Brennan. Seymour had little doubt they were dealing with the same killer, but had to make it official.
He found Delfino headed in his direction. “Just the man I’m looking for.”
Delfino half smiled. “If only you were female, a foot shorter, and a lot better looking, I might be all over that.”
Seymour wasn’t amused. “I’ll settle for knowing what you’ve got on the bullets dug out of Adrianne Pompeo.”
“Same old, same old. They came from a .25 caliber gun and had six lands and grooves with a right hand twist. Same ejection and firing pin marks, too.”
“So you’re telling me—”
“That the bullets definitely came from the gun used to shoot Racine, Nagasaka, and Brennan.”
Seymour rubbed his forehead. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Hey, I’m just relaying the information and giving you a heads up that your killer is calculating and a dead-eye shot, if nothing else.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Seymour said sarcastically. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
Seymour left with what he came for, but didn’t feel any better about it. Someone was killing doctors, and now assistants, right under their nos
es and it was frustrating as hell. If he hoped to make lieutenant someday, this case couldn’t drag on much longer.
* * *
“Did you get stuck or something?” Gina asked, looking up.
Ferguson had stopped moving while lodged inside her. He resumed his thrusts.
“No, my mind was just somewhere else.”
“I wasn’t really talking about your mind.”
He grinned. “You just do your part and I’ll do mine.”
“You’re the boss. I’m just a whore and happy to play whenever you pay.”
She had become loose with her comments and he had no problem with that. He liked the easy communication between them. If only it were the same with Brenda, instead of turning into a battle of wills all the time.
But Ferguson had sensed some changes in his wife recently. She seemed less combative and more resigned to the status quo. He saw that as a good thing.
Or was there something more to it that he just hadn’t figured out?
THIRTY-SIX
On Saturday, Leila was returning to the scene of the crime with Rachel. They were hoping to find any clues into Adrianne Pompeo’s death the CSI might have overlooked.
“By the way, thanks for having my back yesterday,” Rachel said from the passenger seat.
“You would’ve done the same for me.”
Leila recalled telling Lt. Ortega that Rachel had been a bit under the weather. He bought it, which was fine by her. It was better for Rachel to get some professional help on her own than to make it mandatory.
But would she?
“You’re right, I would have.” Rachel paused. “I’m not a drunk.”
“I didn’t think you were.” Leila felt she was definitely a problem drinker.
“Every once in a while, I need something to take the edge off.”
“It’s only a temporary fix.”
“I know. Just give me some time to get things together.”
Leila eyed her. “Take whatever time you need. But remember, it’s your career on the line if you screw it up.”
She had heard it all before. Her father had some issues with alcohol, blaming it on job stress. He eventually cleaned up his act. But not before the damage had already been done to his family.
Leila didn’t want to see Rachel go down that path, though as a widow, her only family was a sister she apparently didn’t keep in close touch with.
They arrived at the apartment, sidestepping crime scene tape.
“So what are we looking for?” Rachel asked.
Leila donned her gloves. “Anything that might give us a clue as to why someone decided Adrianne was better off dead. My guess is she got in over her head and it cost Adrianne her life.”
“You mean like blackmail?”
“Why not? If Adrianne knew who the killer was, maybe she made the mistake of trying to profit from it.”
Rachel put gloves on. “That could explain why the killer decided to go after a non doctor this time.”
“Maybe. Unfortunately that still doesn’t tell us why the unsub targeted the three doctors,” Leila said, and began going through some of Adrianne’s things. “Or if there are others still on the hit list.”
* * *
Seymour got a message from his informant, Marty Mendoza, that he might have something for him in relation to a hot gun sold recently.
Entering the tavern, Seymour found Marty at his usual table.
“What’s up, man?”
“You tell me,” Seymour said.
“Have a seat and let’s talk over a drink. What’s your pleasure?”
Seymour sat, ordering a beer. “This better be good.”
“Good enough, I think. Been asking around and came up with someone who’s set up shop here from the Mainland. Seems like he specializes in untraceable handguns and ammo. Word is he sold a .25 caliber pistol and bullets to a very eager buyer about a week before the doctors met their Maker.”
“I need a name.”
Marty sucked on his scotch. “Kurt Landon.”
“Where can I find him?”
“All over the island.”
Seymour’s brow furrowed. “You need to be more specific.”
Marty showed his teeth. “I hear he’s got an Upcountry place in Haiku. Can’t tell you anything more than that.”
“It’ll have to do.”
The drink came and Seymour paid. He slid the balance owed to Marty across the table. “It’s all there and a little something extra.”
He scooped it up. “As always, nice doing business with you, Seymour, even if I can’t see your face.”
Seymour gulped down a generous amount of beer before getting to his feet.
“You’re probably better off not seeing the ugliness out there these days.”
Seymour left with a strong desire to have a talk with Kurt Landon.
* * *
Ferguson went around the side of the house on Kuaha Road, gun drawn. If the suspect made a run for it out the back door, he’d be waiting for him.
He heard a dog barking inside. Guard dog, no doubt, for someone dealing in arms. Probably drugs, too. Ferguson hoped he didn’t have to shoot the dog, but wouldn’t hesitate if it came to protecting his own life.
He thought about his anniversary in two days. They usually celebrated by going out to dinner. Should they continue the tradition this time around? He had a feeling Brenda, like him, could think of better ways to spend their money. But that wasn’t the point, was it? This was a chance to try and make the marriage work again.
Or had they already reached the point of no return?
Ferguson heard talking inside, before Seymour yelled, “He’s heading your way!”
Quickly moving to a spot beside the back door, Ferguson sucked in a deep breath and waited till a large, thirty-something man lumbered out the screen door, half dressed.
With a head of steam, Ferguson dove into the man, the surge toppling both of them to the ground. Ferguson held the gun to the man’s temple.
“Don’t even think about making a move, unless you want to find out what it’s like to have your brain matter splattered across the concrete.”
He grabbed the man’s right arm and handcuffed it behind his back, then the other.
Seymour ran outside. “You all right?”
Ferguson huffed. “Yeah, the suspect is secure.” He heard more barking. “How’d you handle the dog?”
“I kept it at bay with a chair and got the hell out of there as fast as I could.” Seymour eyed the suspect. “Kurt Landon, you’re under arrest for dealing in illegal firearms...”
THIRTY-SEVEN
Leila faced Kurt Landon in the interrogation room. She wondered if he really was the key to solving their case. Seymour seemed to think so. She glanced at him as he leered at the suspect.
“You’re in a lot of trouble, Kurt,” she said to get his attention. “Aside from facing charges for the possession and sale of illegal weapons, one of the guns you sold may’ve been used to commit four murders. That would make you an accessory before the fact at the very least and could even lead to you facing trial as an accomplice.”
“Hey, I had nothing to do with any murders,” Kurt said nervously. “I only provide a product for self-defense. If people choose to use the guns unlawfully, I can’t be held responsible for that.”
“If you really believe that, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
While Leila didn’t really expect the prosecuting attorney to throw the book at him as a direct participant in the homicides, should that prove not to be the case, she wasn’t above tightening the screws to get his cooperation.
She eyed Seymour to take it from there.
“Personally, I couldn’t care less if you spent the rest of your life behind bars,” he said gruffly. “But there’s a chance it might not come to that, assuming we get something useful from you.”
Kurt wrung his hands. “What do you want?”
“We know you recently sold a .25 caliber gun
to someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
He cocked a thick brow. “Yeah, I remember. It was a dude in an expensive suit. When I asked what he needed it for, he said it was none of my business. I never argue with paying customers.”
“Maybe you should have in this case. What can you tell us about this man?”
Kurt shrugged. “Just a man.”
“You’ll have to do a lot better than that,” Seymour said.
Kurt licked his lips. “Tall, white, mid forties, gray hair...”
“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”
“Probably.”
Leila leaned forward. “I’m a sketch artist. Why don’t you describe the man to the best of your ability and let’s see if I can draw a reasonable representation.”
Kurt rubbed his nose. “I can try.”
Over the next fifteen minutes Leila drew a composite sketch, adjusted accordingly, till it was apparently right on the money.
“Is this the man you sold the gun to?” she asked.
Kurt studied the drawing. “Yeah, that looks pretty much like him.”
Leila took a good look at the face that bore a strong resemblance to Kenneth Racine.
* * *
“I knew there was something about the man that rubbed me the wrong way,” Seymour said as he mulled over the identification that had suddenly thrust Racine to the forefront of suspects.
Leila looked at him from the passenger seat. “There’s no guarantee he’s the man in the sketch or that Landon sold the gun to our killer.”
“True, but I wouldn’t bet against it. Racine certainly had motive for the first two murders and opportunity. I’m still trying to figure out why he would kill Brennan and Pompeo.”
“Once we get Racine in custody, maybe he’ll help us fill in the blanks.” Leila paused. “Of course, what we really need is the murder weapon to sign, seal, and deliver this to the prosecuting attorney.”
“I agree.”
With a warrant already issued to search Racine’s house and vehicle, Seymour was confident they would find the gun he used.
Murder in Maui Page 19
