* * *
Leila sat across from Connie Nagasaka, wondering if she actually believed she would be able to get away with murder. Incredibly this seemed to be the case for most killers. Overconfidence and mistakes ultimately caught up with most of them.
“You were right, your fingerprints weren’t found on the gun,” Leila said. “Unfortunately you weren’t as careful with the bullets. One of the bullets you used to shoot Adrianne Pompeo had a partial print. Turns out it was a perfect match to your fingerprint.”
Connie favored her with a wicked gaze while seemingly trying to come up with something other than empty words.
Leila had no such difficulty. “It’s over, Connie. We know that you and not Kenneth killed them, though I promise he won’t get off the hook anytime soon. If you want to tell me why those four people had to die, I’m willing to listen.”
Connie sucked in a deep breath and her eyes became slits. “Yes, I killed them because Kenneth was too weak to do what we both wanted. Neither Larry nor Elizabeth deserved to live after carrying on like they did right under our noses. It was a fitting way to end their lives.”
Leila could only roll her eyes. “But why kill Douglas Brennan?”
“Because he wouldn’t leave me alone. Somehow Douglas felt with Larry out of the picture he could continue to make sexual advances toward me. When I refused, he threatened to tell the police that Larry was convinced I would kill him one day and get away with it.” She chuckled. “I couldn’t allow him to ruin things for me by giving him another reason to dig deeper.”
Leila looked at the mirror and could imagine what they were thinking on the other side as she got into the head of a serial killer.
“And Adrianne Pompeo?”
“That bitch made the mistake of trying to blackmail me.” Connie’s nostrils flared. “She was another one of my husband’s conquests and claimed he told her during pillow talk that I was an expert markswoman. She put two and two together and demanded $100,000 to keep her mouth shut. Instead, I ended her miserable life!”
Leila knitted her brows. “And in the process you ended your own life as you know it.”
She stood and signaled to a waiting guard to take the prisoner away.
Even in victory, Leila was left with a sour taste in her mouth. As always, she knew it would pass in time.
FORTY
That night Leila joined her colleagues at a Kahului club where a live band played traditional Hawaiian music. She was glad to enjoy some down time after solving the case that saw four people gunned down in cold blood. It was also nice to be able to spend time with Seymour in a social setting where they could openly be more than just partners.
She wondered how long it would last. Having survived the challenges of a difficult investigation was a good sign.
Leila stuck a pretzel at him and he bit off a generous piece. She finished the rest.
“Who can ever predict how things will turn out?” She grabbed another pretzel. “I certainly wouldn’t have guessed Connie Nagasaka and Kenneth Racine would join forces to retaliate against their spouses lethally; and, apparently for Connie, anyone else who got in her way. But hey, what do I know?”
“No more than the rest of us, I’m afraid,” Seymour said over a mug of beer. “I’d say we definitely dodged a bullet or two bringing them to justice.”
Ferguson raised his mug. “I’ll drink to that. Talk about femme fatale. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be on that woman’s bad side.”
Rachel laughed. “Thought you liked to live on the wild side, Ferguson? Or am I getting you and Seymour mixed up?”
Ferguson chuckled. “No wild side here. Brenda keeps me on the straight and narrow.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He quickly changed the subject. “I hear Nagasaka has hired a high powered attorney to defend her.”
“She’ll need it and then some,” Leila said. “With Kenneth Racine prepared to testify against her and some solid evidence, this will be hard for Connie to walk away from.”
“Doesn’t mean she won’t give it her best shot.” Seymour put his hand on the table. “I’m sure the lawyer will try to get her confession thrown out; claim it was coerced, manipulated or whatever.”
“No amount of legal maneuvering is going to change the outcome. The facts speak for themselves,” Leila said.
Rachel nodded in agreement over a Virgin Mary. “I’m just wondering how Connie plans to pay for the pricey help. She can forget about an insurance payout now that she’s being charged with her husband’s murder. And I’m betting Larry Nagasaka’s sister will do all she can to challenge Connie for control of his assets.”
“Something tells me that Connie already planned for every contingency in her life,” Leila said. “Even murder. Unfortunately pathological jealousy proved to be her undoing.”
“None of us are gonna lose any sleep over that.” Ferguson took a swig of his beer.
Seymour followed suit and cast his eyes on Leila.
She gave him a tiny smile before turning to the band. They were playing, Mele O Ku`u Pu`uwai.
Leila sang along in her head, feeling content to be where she was at this stage in her life.
* * *
A week later, Officer Kelly Long responded to a domestic disturbance call at a condo on Ka’anapali Beach. He drove there barely awake after putting in overtime lately to make extra money in anticipation of the kid he had helped conceive. But he wouldn’t complain. It was worth the sacrifice.
Carol seemed to be making a concerted effort to keep things good between them. The least he could do was prepare himself for being a good father and hope he didn’t let their child down.
Long walked up to the condo just as a half naked woman ran out. Her face was bruised and blonde hair knotted.
“Are you Courtney Brennan?” he asked, as she had made the 911 call.
“Yes.” Her voice was a whimper.
Long recalled reading about the ex-wife of CEO Douglas Brennan, who had been gunned down in front of his home last month.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“My boyfriend, Henri, beat the hell out of me—for no reason.”
Long frowned. As though there could be any reason for a man hitting a woman. Or vice versa.
“Is he inside?”
“Yes. Afterward he passed out on the bed.”
“Had he been drinking? Or using drugs?”
“Both.”
Long eyed her. “How about you, Ma’am?”
“I had a couple of glasses of wine.” She began to cry. “He never hit me before or...”
Long pursed his lips. “We’ll try to make sure he never hits you again. Why don’t we go inside and you can show me where he is.”
She hesitated. “I don’t want to see him.”
Long understood as best he could. “I’ll protect you from your boyfriend,” he promised.
“I just want him out of my house—forever!” Courtney sniffled while leading the way.
“What’s Henri’s last name?”
“Alfonso.”
She took him to an upstairs bedroom and Long found the man sprawled face down on the bed and naked.
“Was there a sexual assault?” Long thought to ask.
Courtney colored. “Yes.”
“Are you willing to press charges?” Though that should have been a given, it never was when it concerned intimate violence.
She dabbed at her eyes before responding firmly, “Yes.”
Long gave her a sympathetic nod. “We’ll get you checked out at a hospital. First things first. Wait here.”
He drew his gun, approaching Henri. When he gave no indication of being awake, Long pounced on top, keeping him down with his weight.
He quickly grabbed Henri’s arms and handcuffed him as he began to stir and realized what was happening.
“Why don’t you assholes ever pick on someone your own size and gender?” Long said with asperity. He couldn’t imagine
laying a finger on his girlfriend.
Henri muttered something incoherent. Long dragged him to his feet.
“You’re under arrest for domestic battery and sexual assault.”
Long would probably add resisting arrest to the charges just to make sure he’d get as much time for this as possible.
In the meantime, he hoped Courtney would choose her mate more carefully in the future.
* * *
It was ten p.m. when Seymour found himself at Mele’s door. He suspected her reaction would be less than cordial, as had been the case of late. But it was where he needed to be at this moment.
She opened the door and was obviously surprised. “Blake—”
“I know it’s late.”
“Akela’s in bed.”
“I figured that.” He paused. “I came to see you.”
Seymour expected her to rant and rave before sending him on his way. Instead she let him in.
“You see me,” Mele said. “Do you have something to say?”
“Yeah, I still love you.”
“Don’t do this—”
“I doubt I’ll ever stop loving you, no matter what happens.” His gaze lowered to her face. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll leave.”
Mele averted her eyes for a moment, before looking at him. In saying nothing, she told Seymour everything he wanted to hear.
He cupped her cheeks and brought their lips together. She made no attempt to push him away. They just stood there kissing for a while before Seymour felt it was safe to take this to the next level. He scooped Mele into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, their mouths still locked.
It was what Seymour had hoped would happen this night. He didn’t dare look beyond to the implications concerning his relationship with Mele or Leila.
He could only think about the moment at hand.
* * *
Leila watered her bamboo and orchid plants before curling up on the sofa to catch the news and enjoy a glass of wine. She thought about Seymour. Things were going pretty good for them and she was happy to have him in her life as a partner and lover. She hoped, if he let her, to spend more time with Akela. For all Leila knew, the girl might be the closest thing to a daughter she would ever have.
At least while she was involved with Seymour. Leila didn’t discount the possibility of having children of her own someday, should the right man come along. She was still young and fertile. Something told her Seymour was not interested in going there with her. Or had she misread the way he felt about their relationship?
And Leila still had to win her mother’s approval of her choice of man. Seymour would be a hard sell, but maybe once she got to know him....
Leila focused on the TV screen when the newscaster began to speak.
“A twenty-one-year-old tourist, Amy Lynn Laseter, has been reported missing by her best friend. Ms. Laseter’s rented car was found abandoned near a North Shore wooded area about a mile from the Spreckelsville motel where the women were staying. You may recall that earlier this year another woman was found strangled to death in the same area in a case that is still unsolved. So far there is no indication of foul play...”
Leila felt a lump in her throat. She had worked that case. It was one of the few to have stumped her. The killer was still out there, perhaps gloating.
Had Amy Lynn Laseter met the same fate as Marcia Miyashiro?
# # #
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R. Barri Flowers is the bestselling, award-winning author of more than forty books, including mysteries, thrillers, romance, young adult, true crime, and criminology. Recent mystery fiction titles include the Jack the Ripper historical thriller, DARK STREETS OF WHITECHAPEL, the young adult ghost tale, GHOST GIRL IN SHADOW BAY, and a hardboiled mystery, DEAD IN THE ROSE CITY.
Other recent fiction works by the author include the legal thrillers, STATE’S EVIDENCE, PERSUASIVE EVIDENCE, and JUSTICE SERVED.
Flowers’ recent nonfiction titles include PROSTITUTION IN THE DIGITAL AGE, STREET KIDS, COLLEGE CRIME, and MALE CRIME AND DEVIANCE. He is also the author of the bestselling true crime classic, THE SEX SLAVE MURDERS.
Flowers is the recipient of the Wall of Fame Award from Michigan State University’s renowned School of Criminal Justice. He has appeared on the Biography Channel and Investigation Discovery.
Connect with R. Barri Flowers on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, MySpace, and CrimeSpace. The author resides in the Pacific Northwest and is busy at work on his next mystery novels, KILLER IN THE WOODS and EXPOSED EVIDENCE.
Visit rbarriflowers.com to learn more about the author’s upcoming titles, book signings, and appearances.
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