“Yeah, well if I’ve learned anything in my prior dealings with the man, it’s that it’s Wong’s way or the highway. I’ll bet his partner’s got a few stories about what a pleasure he is to work with.”
Ono took a few more pictures while I checked the perimeter of the campsite for additional evidence. Aside from the garbage tossed around and the crumpled tent there wasn’t much there. I didn’t really expect they’d leave drugs or a gun behind, but if I could’ve spotted some shell casings or other proof of what had happened, and where, it would’ve helped corroborate Beni’s story.
We took the trail on the way back down. It was much easier than crashing through the underbrush but once we got to the bottom I realized why we hadn’t noticed it before. It didn’t end at the park, but rather looped around and brought us to a gate in a six-foot tall chain-link fence. There was a small green plantation-style house about ten yards away.
“This is strange,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Ono. He tried the latch on the gate. It rattled but didn’t give way.
The sound must’ve alerted the on-site security, because within seconds a powerfully-built American Staffordshire Terrier—aka a pit bull—was snarling at us only inches away on his side of the chain link. Although he was slobbering and baring his teeth, he looked almost happy; as if he was thrilled to finally have the opportunity to strut his stuff.
“We better go back,” I said.
Ono made no move to leave. Instead, he bent down and started making a strange noise deep in his throat. It sounded as if he was trying to communicate with the dog in some kind of visceral dog language.
“Are you nuts?” I said. “Dogs like this don’t live alone, you know.” I looked at the house, half expecting a wild-eyed guy brandishing a machete to burst through the back door.
Ono kept up the goofy throat noise. I stepped back a few feet and watched.
After half a minute, the dog stopped growling. It perked up its ears as if trying to decode the message Ono was sending. Then it sat down on its haunches, its eyes focused on Ono as if waiting for him to throw a ball.
“What’re you doing?” I said.
“I’m dog whispering. I learned it from a guy who trains sled dogs up in Alaska.”
“We don’t have time for you to sweet-talk this dog. Especially since he’s probably only playing along while he figures out whether to go with the béarnaise or the hollandaise sauce on your upper arm.”
“Okay.” He stood and turned away from the dog. Just like that, the dog leapt up and crashed against the fence. He resumed his rip-your-face-off snarling and barking with even greater vigor.
“I think I hurt his feelings by acting as if I wanted to be friends and then not following through,” said Ono.
“Well, it’ll hurt my feelings if we stick around here long enough for that ninety-eight pounds of pissed-off to find a hole in this fence.”
We hacked our way back through the brush and found our cars.
“Should we call the cops and have them meet us up here?” said Ono.
“Nope. I want to march into that station unannounced. I don’t want to give up the element of surprise when I show Wong these pictures. No way he’ll be able to stonewall me now.”
***
Since it was Sunday the police station lot was nearly empty except for a couple of cop cars parked out front. I waited for Ono to pull in behind me and park, then we walked together up to the door. I had to press a buzzer to be let inside. Once we got in, I asked the cop at the front desk to please page Detective Wong.
“Investigative services only works normal business hours,” said the guy. “They’re off today.”
“I need to speak to Detective Wong regarding a missing persons report I filed on the first of the month,” I said. “Please tell him I now have solid proof of foul play.”
“And your name is?”
I told him my name. It always makes me nervous to give my chosen name to the police or any other people in authority. I’m waiting for the day when someone leaps up, thrusts an accusing finger in my face and calls me a big fat liar. It hasn’t happened yet, but you never know.
The desk cop pointed to a row of plastic chairs lining the wall. “Please have a seat, Ms. Moon. I’ll do my best to get a hold of him.”
“I’ve never been in here before,” said Ono. “God knows I’ve seen my share of police stations, but I somehow managed to avoid this one.”
The cop mumbled something into his headset and then looked up at me. “Detective Wong said to tell you he’s on his way. If you want something to drink there’s a vending machine down the hall. Or, if you need to use the restroom I can give you the key.”
“Mahalo, but we’re fine. Any idea how long it’ll take Detective Wong to get here?”
“He said he was close by,” said the clerk. His console started beeping and he looked down, probably relieved to be able to direct his attention elsewhere. My money says Wong isn’t anybody’s ‘Mr. Congeniality’ and most likely he’d yelled at the guy for calling him in.
Glen Wong didn’t come through the front doors, but suddenly appeared behind the counter where the desk clerk sat.
“Ms. Moon, I see you’re not alone. Is this your lawyer?”
I looked over at Ono in his cargo shorts and black tee-shirt and wondered how Wong could possibly mistake the guy for an attorney.
“You’re gonna probably need one, that’s all,” said Wong.
“Why?”
“Because I see an obstruction of justice charge in your future.”
“What?”
“We had a deal, right? You promised to leave this missing person investigation up to us. The mere fact that you’re here—on a Sunday, no less—makes me assume you’ve broken that agreement.”
“I’m here with undeniable proof that a crime’s been committed,” I said. “I’m a private citizen doing her civic duty, nothing more. To imply that I’m guilty of obstruction of anything is just plain—”
“Ms. Moon, not following a police order is against the law. And it’s a crime to harbor a known fugitive who’s wanted for police questioning. Do you need me to go on?”
I bit my lip and looked over at Ono. He shrugged.
“I’ll get us an interview room,” said Wong. “Follow me.”
Ono stood up, but Wong held up his hand like a cop stopping traffic. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of this. I’m gonna let you walk out of here this time—no harm, no foul—but I’d suggest you forget all about whatever harebrained story you’ve been told by Ms. Moon. If it gets back to me you’ve not taken this advice, Ms. Moon won’t be the only one needing a lawyer.”
Ono looked at me. His eyes were troubled—as if he was worried I’d think less of him if he didn’t posture and bluff in a manly show of protecting me from this bully.
“Go,” I said. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this in the first place.”
Ono slipped off his backpack, pulled out my cell phone and handed it to me. “Here,” he said. “Good luck.”
Wong muttered something I couldn’t quite hear.
Ono glared at Wong. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a cop, you know that? This woman is doing the job you should’ve been doing two weeks ago. Now you’re gonna see what happened as a result of your arrogance. And believe me, if you so much as harm a—”
“Let’s not go there, buddy,” said Wong. “Ms. Moon and I are going to sit down for a little chat, that’s all. She’ll be outta here in no time.” He turned to me. “Do you have your own ride home?”
I nodded.
“Good. Then I suggest you tell your friend to leave. You can give him a call when we’re through.”
I nodded again and Ono stomped toward the front door.
Wong led me down the hall and opened the door to the first interview room. He gestured for me to go in ahead of him. I took a seat and he sat on the opposite side of the table.
“Okay, why are you here?” he said.
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“I want to show you some pictures that back up everything I’ve been saying for the past two weeks.”
“Do you want to make a formal statement?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, then begin. I’ll be recording what you say. We’ll have it transcribed and you can sign it later.”
In my statement I left out everything pertaining to Beni, saying instead that I’d heard a rumor in town about Crystal being held up in ‘Iao Valley. I told Wong that Ono and I had gone up there and found the campsite and the open grave. When I got to the part about seeing her body, I choked up a little but managed to pull out my phone and flick through the photos Ono had taken and held each one up for Wong to see. When we got to the close-up of the two shots in Crystal’s skull, he leaned in but didn’t change his expression.
“Is that it?” said Wong.
“Is that it—are you joking? I’m showing you pictures of a murdered woman and you’re asking me if that’s it?”
“No, I mean, is this your entire statement?”
“Yeah. I think that’s plenty, don’t you?”
Wong picked my phone up off the table. He punched the buttons, scrolling once more through each of the photos. Now and then he stopped to scrutinize a shot before moving on. I waited, not saying anything.
“Pretty impressive police work, wouldn’t you say, Detective?” I said. I didn’t care that it sounded snotty. I was waiting for him to thank me—or at least offer some shred of appreciation for the irrefutable evidence I’d brought him. Now he had what he needed to launch a full investigation into the kidnapping and murder of Crystal Wilson.
“Mind if I make copies of these photos?” he said. “I’d like to download them to our system.”
“Sure, whatever it takes.”
He got up and left the room, then came back a few minutes later.
“By the way, did you enjoy your little helicopter ride, Ms. Moon?” he said, handing me my phone.
“How did you—”
“Ms. Moon, it seems you fail to remember even the most rudimentary information I pass along to you. Not long ago I told you it’s my business to know who’s on this island and what they’re up to. Well, that includes locals—like you.”
“You have no right—” I stammered.
“You’re free to go now,” he interrupted. “I suggest you call your friend, Mr. Winston, at your earliest convenience. When he left here he seemed rather concerned about your welfare.”
When I got outside I was surprised to find Ono still in the parking lot, sitting in his bus. I walked over and he rolled down the window.
“That was quick,” he said.
“Yeah, I gave him a statement, but mostly I let the pictures do the talking. He even downloaded them onto his computer. Looks like there’s no way he can weasel out of this now.”
“Pali?” he said.
Our eyes met. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket and punched buttons until I got to the pictures screen.
CHAPTER 29
Of course the pictures weren’t there. The most recent photos on my phone were shots I’d taken of Steve in his Halloween costume. He was going to a classic movie party and he’d dressed up as Citizen Kane. He’d bulked up his middle by wrapping a towel under a 1940’s-style shirt and he’d found a great-looking fedora and a little fake mustache. I thought he looked great, but people at the party mistook him for the ruthless banker in It’s a Wonderful Life.
“We need to go back to the valley,” I said to Ono. “Before they—”
“Hop in.”
By the time we reached the park they’d pulled the gate shut across the parking lot entrance. We parked along the road and hiked up to the park. A park ranger was stationed at the trail leading in.
“Sorry, the park’s closed for the rest of the day,” he said as we approached.
“Why?” said Ono.
“We got a problem up at the ‘Iao Needle. Seems some big dude leaned too hard on the guard rail and it gave way. Gotta get it re-welded.”
“How long will that take?” I asked.
“Who knows? You know how it goes. Could take an hour, could take a week,” he smiled and shot us a shaka sign.
“We’re not going anywhere near the needle,” Ono said. “We left something on one of the upper trails. It’s kind of valuable and we need to get it.”
“Sorry, brudda, no can do. This whole place kapu until we get a green light from the big boss.”
I couldn’t be sure, but his voice sounded a lot like one of the two guys we’d heard when we were hiding in the bushes up on the trail.
The walkie-talkie on his belt squawked, and he put it up to his ear. He said some stuff like, ten-four and roger that and then he turned back to us. “I’m real sorry guys, but you gotta go now. We’re getting ready to do a sweep of the park, make sure everybody’s out.”
On the walk back to Ono’s bus my cell phone chimed. I checked the caller ID—it was Bessie Yokamura. As much as I wanted to hear her whine and wheedle her way back into my good graces, I let it go to voicemail.
“Now what should we do?” I said to Ono.
“It’s your party, you tell me.”
“I need some time to think. Would you mind taking me back to my car at the police station?”
“No worries. I’ve done some of my best thinking in this bus. Maybe it’ll work for you too.”
By the time we got to the police station neither of us had come up with any brilliant ideas for recovering the evidence of Crystal’s murder. Seeing the cop cars parked out front brought up ugly feelings of betrayal.
“How can that man live with himself?” I said.
“I gotta say, I’ve run into some questionable cops in my day, but this guy wins—hands down.”
“It’s mind-boggling to think Wong’s in on this,” I said, looking at the front door of the police station. “I mean, we’re talking murder.”
“Yeah, but we’re also talking drugs. There’s a boatload of money in drugs. On both sides. The government spends billions of tax dollars fighting the so-called drug war. And meanwhile, the drug traffickers are raking in a hundred times that selling their crap to willing buyers.”
I leaned over and gave Ono a kiss on the cheek before opening my door. “Mahalo, for everything. I’ll call you.”
He frowned. “What? We spend the whole day chasing bad guys and now you’re just gonna kick me to the curb? How about we grab some dinner tonight—maybe take your mind off what we saw today.”
“My mind will never be far from what we saw until Crystal Wilson gets justice. I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly in the mood to go out.”
“But you’ve still gotta eat. How about I bring some take-out over to your place?”
“You know, that’d be great.”
I gave him directions to my house and then hopped down and went to my car. I drove up up to Pa’ia and parked in front of Farrah’s store. I hadn’t heard from her, so Beni probably still hadn’t surfaced, but I wanted to clue her in on what we’d found up in the valley and what Wong had done when we reported it.
***
“What?” Farrah shrieked. “I can’t believe this. You found that poor girl’s body and the cops are in on getting her killed?”
“Looks like it,” I said. “We’ve got to find Beni. He’s a witness so he’s our only hope. Tomorrow I’ll contact Honolulu—the attorney general’s office or state police or somebody over there—and see what they say. But I’ll need Beni to confirm my story.”
“I’ve put the word out all day here at the store. So far, nothing.”
“Oh, guess who called me?”
“Hatch?” she said.
“Hardly. I think my Hatch days are over. I can’t even imagine what he’ll say when he hears how I spent my Sunday.”
“You mean about you and Ono?”
“Take your pick—me and Ono, me finding Beni a safe haven, or me tromping through the woods loo
king for a dead girl murdered by drug scum. Any one of those things could be a deal breaker. Taken all together—well, it was nice knowing him.”
“So, who called you?” Farrah said.
Just then my phone rang.
“Well, speak of the devil,” I said looking at the caller ID. “It’s Bessie Yokamura. Mind if I take this?”
Farrah grinned. “Go ahead. You deserve a laugh after what you’ve been through.”
“Hey Pali,” Bessie said in a cheery voice. “How’s it going, girlfriend?”
“Not that great, Bessie. I’m still doing that hour-long commute to Lahaina every day. You know, what with gas prices and all, it’s getting tough.”
“Well then, I’m gonna make your day, sista. I’ve decided to reconsider the lease on your old shop space in our Pa’ia building. I got to thinking—weddings are very important to our native culture. Hawaiians have always respected lineage through marriage as an integral part of the warp and woof in the weave of our social fabric.”
“I don’t know, Bessie. As much as I hate that commute, I know how much you want your tourist office. By the way, how’s that coming along?”
“Oh, it’s going good—great, actually. Lots of interest. In fact, looks I’m going to need an even larger place in town. I’m calling you because I want to give you first dibs on your old space—before I put the word out to the many other interested parties who’ve contacted me.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Even though it’s a long drive, I’m getting really good rent down in Lahaina. It’s a sublet, you know.”
“How much are you paying?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, hardly anything. But that’s not the big issue, of course.”
“What’s more important than the rent price?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe working above a fish restaurant is preferable to working above sacred ancestor bones.”
After a beat the line went dead.
“She hung up on me,” I said to Farrah.
“Huh, imagine that. You serious about staying down in Lahaina?”
“No way. But she’s gotta know everyone in town’s heard about that heiau being under here.” We both looked down as if we could look right through the floorboards and see the pile of stones and bones. “It’s gonna be impossible to rent that space to anyone from Pa’ia.”
Livin' Lahaina Loca Page 20
