by Mary Deal
Sara kicked out of her sandals and let Birdie squirt them too. Then Birdie suddenly turned the hose on her, playing like two children having a water fight on a sweltering summer day. Sara covered her head wound to keep it dry.
Bao stepped out of range. When Birdie finally quit hosing, Bao coiled his rope, also sprayed clean by Birdie. He left shaking his head and saying, “Two pupule lady live house side-by-side.”
Birdie gave Sara a sideways smirk, as if to say that Bao didn't know the half of crazy. “This pupule lost her flip-flops down the hill somewhere.”
Sara brought out some towels from her laundry room. She and Birdie slipped into some flip-flops always left outside the doorway. Sara had to laugh because Birdie's feet were half the size of the flip-flops. She'd have trouble keeping them on. “Drag your heels.” Sara laughed. “Create some new movements.”
Birdie wouldn't miss the opportunity and exaggerated her walk, poking fun at the fact that she now had to walk this crazy walk to keep the flip-flops on her feet or tread barefoot on the now scorching concrete sidewalk.
Bao had laid his rope out on the driveway to allow it to dry in the hot sun. He began trimming his hedge, but sneaked glances in their direction and played nonchalant again when they looked over.
Birdie played nonchalant too, not looking over at Bao and talking low. “Why do you suppose that old man has to always hide behind his hedge to look over here?” Suddenly she remembered. Her hand went to her hip. She pulled a cell phone from a drenched pocket. “Well, hell.” She shook water from it. “I didn't lose it… and it still works. I'm calling the police.”
After the call, she further explained why. As they stood, both toweling their hair, a patrol car drove in and turned around in the cul-de-sac and came to a stop out front. Birdie explained the situation in better detail as she wrung out the edges of her tee shirt. Though she joked earlier, she was angry and hyper now. The officer pretended not to pay attention to Birdie's sagging breasts and tiny nipples poking through the wet tee shirt near the bottom of her rib cage.
“I'm telling you, those steps were pried loose.” Birdie nearly screamed at the officer who clearly looked doubtful.
Sara wished to keep the moment peaceful. “Birdie doesn't lie.”
“All I'm asking is how you could tell that the slabs and stakes were pried loose. The officer's voice was quiet and even, but also said he didn't like anyone raising their voice at him. “With our heavy rains, boulders wash down steep inclines all the time. So why were you climbing down there in a downpour?”
“I went down before the rain started. It was sunny and dry.” Not only could Birdie be funny, she could enunciated well when needed. “When the clouds rolled in on that fast front, the downpour hit. I tried to climb back up as quick as I could but the ground gave way.”
The officer, trying to keep a straight face but showing he didn't believe her, headed toward the cliff edge. Birdie wrapped the towel around her like a sarong and she and Sara, flapping the edges of her shirt to speed up the drying, followed. He turned to face them at the cliff edge. “What was it exactly you saw that made you think someone tampered with this trail?”
Birdie pointed to the evidence in plain view. “Right there… and there.”
The officer showed no emotion as he looked over the cliffside at the slide area and a couple of stepping stones resting on top of others. The wooden stakes, used only to mark the trail, lay strewn. “Repeat what you said.” He looked straight at Birdie, sounding as if wishing the conversation could end. He surely couldn't be convinced and clearly didn't wish to be bothered with conjecture. “What was it that made you think someone tampered with this trail?”
“I saw fresh digging marks around the stones, fresh earth.” Birdie had calmed down. Surely she had to if she was to make this officer understand. “If you care to go down, I can show you a couple of wooden wedges that someone drove into the ground to loosen the rock slabs. And… and see those stakes?” She pointed. “Look at the dirt marks. See how far they used to be pushed into the ground? Someone had to pull them up for them to come loose.”
Each cautiously leaned forward for a closer look over the cliffside at the stakes. The officer was skeptical. “So you saw that the trail had been tampered with but you went down anyway?”
“The ground was dry when I went down. I saw the fresh turned dirt. It looked like someone had pulled up weeds from around the steps.” Birdie was again starting to talk though clenched teeth. If Birdie was one thing, she was honest. She didn't like her word being taken lightly.
The officer seemed to want to place blame directly onto her. “Weed pulling. Maybe that's all it was.”
“I went down for a swim before the rain came. I always use this trail. Then I saw the storm coming.” Her lips were really pinched now. “The downpour hit hard and fast when I was half way up. I saw mud begin to ooze and the rocks slipped under my feet.”
Sara placed a hand on Birdie's arm to calm her. “Birdie…”
Birdie stopped and took a breath. That was good because her face was reddening and it wasn't from Kauai's red dirt either. She tried hand gestures as she spoke, to keep the officer's attention and to get him to understand. “That's when the wedges showed up. Someone pounded them into the ground to loosen the steps and then covered the wedges with fresh dirt till the mud started to ooze.”
The officer wrote some notes. “That's what you believe?”
“The wedges are there… If you care to see. The person who did this used them like shims to get under the rocks and loosen them, then covered them with dirt.” It really did sound reasonable. “I've been down that trail at least once a week since I've lived here. I've never seen any wooden wedges anywhere.”
“Is it possible someone put in some new plantings and left them as markers?” The officer needed to examine all scenarios, but it was ludicrous to think anyone other than the homeowner would be planting anything.
“I'm not finished.” Birdie lips were still pinched. Now she gestured with her hands. “That's not all. She pointed to the house. “This is not my house. This is Sara's property. Someone tried to kill her last week but didn't succeed. Maybe that same person tampered with the trail meaning for her to be the one to fall.”
Chapter 29
After another downpour during the night, with a couple of power failures that forced Sara to lie in the dark, the strong morning sun and lack of balmy trade winds made the humidity nearly unbearable.
“You don't need to remove your shoes.” If the officer received an urgent call and had to run in a hurry, having to put his shoes on again would be an unnecessary delay.
He hesitated to step inside her front door. She motioned for him to step inside anyway. She had learned to keep small braided rugs just inside her doorways for the purpose of anyone with wet shoes needing to step in out of the weather. She pointed to the rug. “C'mon, it's okay.”
The officer refused to step any farther than the entry foyer rug. This was not a social call anyway.
Sara wondered how many officers were working on her auto accident case. This wasn't the first time in the last few weeks that Officer Palani Makamai had stopped by unexpectedly. She sensed the police may be checking on her, not that she was suspected of any wrong-doing, but for her safety.
Birdie previously mentioned that he always parked facing the open end of the cul-de-sac for an easy out should he have to leave in a hurry. Recently, another home break-in occurred in the lower Wailua Homesteads area when no break-in had occurred for a couple of months. Could the officers be combining the two investigations, that of covering the neighborhood in case of break-ins and keeping an eye on her well-being too?
Officer Makamai held his notepad and pen. “Sara, is there anything else you can tell me about the black truck that ran you off the road?”
She had repeatedly told other officers, and him, that she hadn't had time to see much of the truck and certainly not the driver through the darkened windows.
Office
r Makamai was tall like the pure Hawaiians were, somewhere around her age, great looking and fit as a cop should be. He wore no wedding ring. If his visit was purely personal, albeit disguised, the intensity in his dark eyes revealed no trace of motive. She hid a smile. He casually calling her by her first name suggested a personal interest, though he had always remained in a policeman's mode. She wondered how he might react if she called him by his first name. “Honestly, I couldn't see much detail of the truck in the darkness.”
“We're just trying to identify the vehicle. Hoped you'd remember something else.”
Sara had searched her memory time and again, trying to remember anything she might have missed. “It had big tires, sat up high, as if on custom hydraulics.” She could only repeat what she had already told the police. “It looked black but at night, it could have been dark blue… can't be sure.”
“Was the truck ever in front of you? Maybe you got a look at the plates, even a partial? We could work with you to help you remember.”
“It sped past once when I slammed on my brakes, but I was too busy staying on the road to notice. When I finally went off the road, well, you know I wasn't looking in his direction.”
“Okay…” He waited for more.
Why was this officer rehashing the few details she had already reported? She wished to avoid another retelling. Would repeating it bring out something her concussion could have blocked? Also curious about something else that happened that same evening that resulted in another missing person, her curiosity getting the best of her, she changed the subject. “That North Shore woman that's missing, I read in the paper that she had an ex-boyfriend. She had a reputation of disappearing and turning up later. Has the department checked out that guy?”
“Yeah, he's well-known, a locksmith with an old rusted white Ford.” Officer Makamai smiled. “A real beat-out island-kine truck loaded with tools of his trade. Alibi checks, at a party.”
“Has anyone else reported being dogged?” Surely there was no reason for anyone to single her out.
“No, but your reputation of looking at cold cases has spread through the local gossip. Maybe someone doesn't want you snooping around.” That was a lot for an officer to admit.
“And not find that child? That would be hard to believe.” Officer Makamai being free with information validated his interest in her, at least in her opinion. The police department had long ago shelved the case for lack of evidence. After a decade, the person responsible for Leia's disappearance would be feeling safe from discovery.
“We have people missing all the time.” His shoulders slumped. “Turns out many just left the island without telling anyone.” He was poker-faced, showed no expression.
“How would a child leave?”
“That's what makes me feel something's about to happen, since people know you're interested in this little girl's whereabouts. The pig skin, blood on your house, you being run off the road, your trail being dug up….”
“Don't forget the nails in the driveway.” Somehow Sara knew that was not to be the end of the malicious occurrences.
“These are desperate acts. If that pig skin hanging in the tree was meant for you specifically, then someone's watching your every move, stalking you, trying to scare you into staying out of it.”
Sara's suspicions could be right, about the police watching her and her home because the alleged perpetrator might be doing the same. “Then I may be right. Little Leia didn't wander off on her own and get lost and died somewhere. Details about her disappearance is what someone wants to keep hidden.”
The officer nodded. “I'd have to agree with you.” He shook his pen in the air. “If you turn up anything, you'll have to work with the Department on this or any other case. Somewhere along the way, you'll have to drop out and let us finish it.”
“Of course.”
“But know this.” He pointed the pen at her, but it was merely a gesture. “If there's a perpetrator, and he or she knows you're getting too close, the threats, the accidents, all could get worse. Your life could be in danger.” He sighed and paused a moment. “I really don't think you should be involved.”
Now she was certain. A police officer in the area and at her home, might deter the perpetrator from further action. Sara was already involved.
She hadn't yet turned up anything significant, but if she dropped out now, the understaffed police department would be left with a cold case remaining cold. “Just my being here looking at this case is the reason someone's trying to do me in. Doesn't that tell you the Department should re-open the case?”
“We would if we had something solid.”
He looked at her evenly and Sara's intuition interpreted a message that this officer wanted her to continue but didn't have the authority to approve her involvement. She smiled gently. For just a moment, they stood looking into each other's eyes, knowing that she was not about to give up; he possibly feeling that maybe some clues would turn up, thanks to her interest and verve. Sara's intuition never let her down.
“Oh, one thing more.” He turned, preparing to leave and opened the door. “The blood on the front of your house, at least it wasn't human. It was pig blood.”
Just as Officer Makamai stepped through the doorway to leave, Sara gasped. “Wait! I remember something.”
Chapter 30
Officer Makamai turned quickly to face her again. His hands immediately went into note taking readiness. He never blinked. “Tell me.”
“When the truck passed me once, going so fast, I saw something on the side. It looked streaked.”
“Like side molding?”
“Uh, no.”
“A long dent, maybe?”
“No, no, that's not it.”
“Could it have been painting? Decals maybe? A lot of locals plaster island-kine decals on their vehicles.” He shrugged. “You've seen it, I'm sure. Flowers, turtles, surfing, lots of things.”
“Wait.” She held her forehead and closing her eyes thinking. Could her concussion have harmed her memory somehow? “It was a streak, like a streak of white, maybe silver.” She made an animated sweep of an arm to describe what she saw. “Just for a moment when I jammed on my brakes, the truck zipped ahead of me. It was like a silver streak, blurred, but right up next to my side window.”
Officer Makamai nodded. “Maybe it was the brand name of the truck.” He seemed onto something. “Could it have been lettering?”
“I don't know. It started from the front fender, I think.”
“That sounds like the model letters or the truck name.”
Sara felt disappointed in herself. “I'm sorry. I didn't see any letters, just a bright streak flying by. We were going so fast. I-I'm sorry. That's all I remember.”
“That's okay, Sara. Everything will help, and maybe more will come. You've been through a lot.” He glanced at the side of her head before turning to leave.
Sara felt self-conscious. The staples had been removed from the gash. Her hair had already grown long enough to cover the healing wound, but the hair was not yet long enough to hide the fact that something dire happened on her scalp. Remembering her wound and him looking at it was momentary diversion that allowed her to remember something else. “Wait!” She nearly jumped up and down where she stood.
He came to full attention. “Yes, yes? More?”
“I think that truck had a double cab. It was so big and… and so long!”
“That would help narrow down the vehicle. That's great news, if you can be sure that's what you saw.”
“I am sure, I can see it in my memory right now.”
Officer Makamai lingered over his note writing, smiling, surely pleased with the new information. Then he stood watching her, waiting for more. She had nothing more to offer. His expression sobered. He nodded, thanked her and shook her hand, then turned and walked out the door.
Officer Makamai was a nice guy with enticing looks and appealing presence, but no one could compare to her Huxley and his intense blue-topaz eyes.
How she missed him!
Sara had always been able to turn heads. It hadn't changed as she aged. She remembered the sparks that flew the first time she met Gary Quill, a Police Lieutenant in Sacramento, California. He took over the handling of Choco and Latte when she and Esmerelda donated those two feisty pups for forensics training.
While attractions and being noticed carried with it an element of excitement and a boost to her self-confidence, that's as much as she interpreted from them. Her heart belonged only to Huxley. She loved him fiercely and momentary excitement couldn't compare to her attraction and commitment to him.
After investigators traversed her rear yard to inspect the slippery trail to the river below, Sara passed her days with walks around the neighborhood with Ka'imi, exploring new areas and generally learning more of the island with which she had fallen in love. Strange and beautiful tropical flowers hung off every bush. Vines climbed trees and trees sent down new roots from high branches searching for water like the mangroves did in Vietnam. Nature was amazing. Too, the sea and beaches and deep water called to her but would have to wait till her concussion healed.
She thought about her predicament and determined not to let it get her down. Too much was at stake, not just finding who ran her off the road but finding Leia too.
Officer Makamai called to say the final word on her trail into the river gulch was that someone had definitely up-heaved the rocks. The former homeowners had set the stepping stones with fairly deep concrete footings. The slabs could only have been dug out or pried loose. The earth was loosened around them. Then the small shims were forced underneath, keeping them hidden and guaranteeing the stones would not settle back into the earth. The precariously perched rocks would slide when rain washed away the loosened soil. The shims were ordinary and could be purchased at any local lumber company.
Birdie had been right about someone wishing to do harm.
