by Mary Deal
Police officers waited beside the left rear passenger trying to comfort him. Both medics peered inside the car, planning to extract the man. Suddenly, one medic backed away and hurled a projectile of vomit into the bushes as he whirled, trying not to let it hit anyone. She had heard this happened often during bad situations, but she had only seen it happen in the movies. Yet, this was not fiction and happening right in front of her. The officer backed away, dazed, walking in circles before he finally calmed. The scene inside that car must surely be gruesome. She wondered about the driver who remained in his seat with no one attending to him. That could only mean one thing.
All of the officers, including those that had been helping on Maleko's property, now wore dark gray weatherproof ponchos and had taken up positions to maintain control of the scene. A couple more patrol cars were directed through the glut of traffic, riding the shoulder on the near side of Kuamo'o, brushing and breaking trees branches and knocking down old weathered fence posts to get through, and then went screeching past. Sara hadn't noticed but then realized the dog that attacked the fleeing driver had long ago stopped its fierce barking. The man wasn't screaming either. He may have eluded both the dog and the police.
The man in the rear seat was being eased out, his face, chest and arms bloodied. His shirt torn in many places told that he had sustained some sort of blows, perhaps glass or metal shards, that left him cut and bleeding. They laid him on the pavement. He tried to sit up, gurgling and totally incoherent. He swatted at the rain as if chasing away a fly, surely not cognizant of his surroundings.
An ambulance arrived and killed it's siren. Another could be heard coming up the hill, it's distinct horn blaring in the distance. The first ambulance driver laid out another back board. A collar was placed around the man's neck and he, now also naked and covered with a sheet, was laid beside the woman with the medics attempting to stop his nosebleed. He, too, spat up great amounts of blood, tried to clutch at his throat through the collar, and tried to speak but could only wince in pain. He gasped for air. The neighbor holding the other end of the tarp with Sara started to cry and turned away.
Sara grabbed her arm. “Please. We need you!” All they could do was hold the covering in place and pray for these people. The neighbor kept her eyes closed but tears still ran. She turned away trying to keep her balance. She seemed close to passing out.
The sound of chopper blades and drone of a powerful motor filled the air. Sara looked up through the down pour. The red Fire Department MD530F turbine helicopter from Fire 3 hovered above. Firemen on the ground stood ready and directed the action.
Birdie was finally allowed reprieve from pressuring the woman's wounds. She looked up too. “Look at that beautiful bird. The fire department used to have to depend on private helicopters for rescue service.”
With not enough space to land, the chopper hovered high above the power lines that ran the length of the highway. A Stokes litter was lowered. First the woman on the backboard was strapped onto the litter. It was raised quickly. The trade winds blowing hard caused the litter to twirl on the way up. She was held in mid-air till the twirling stopped. She could easily be blown against the power lines. The rain would surely soak her through before she reached the chopper. Then the litter was lowered again for the man.
While awaiting the HAZMAT crew, firemen had already begun spreading super absorbent materials to soak up the spilled fuel, if possible, considering the rain spread the fuel down the highway and probably diluted it. The use of booms to contain it was not attempted. The use of drying agents was also not an option.
A second ambulance arrived as the doors were closed on the first. The attendants leaped out of the vehicle and threw open the rear doors in preparation. When an officer met the driver, he said something to him and shook his head and the driver slowly closed the ambulance doors.
At least the driver still sat in that sedan. Maybe two people remained inside, but why would the attendants suspend aid? Closing the ambulance doors sent an ominous message. Sara dared edge closer to peer inside and then wished she hadn't. The driver's head hung to his left side, resting completely on his shoulder. Broken neck bones jutted up sharply under the skin in a most grotesque formation, his cervical area snapped. Startled and shocked, Sara next saw what caused the two in the back seat to be drenched in blood and what caused the officer vomit. Blood had jettisoned over the front seat and splattered the passengers behind. The top of the sedan had collapsed under the weight of the monster truck. A jagged shard of roof metal had sliced the front passenger clean across the neck. The severed head of a woman, with eyes wide open, stared upward from where it lay on the bloodied console between the front seats.
Chapter 46
People left their cars parked along the road and crept close to watch. On Kauai everyone carried umbrellas. Now the sea of colored rain gear multiplied along both sides of the road. A crowd had gathered. What was it about seeing accident scenes that incited interest? Rain soaked officers held back the gawkers. The police shielded the accident scene by hanging sheets of yellow plastic tarp around the exposed sections of the sedan. Kuamo'o Road was glutted with cars needing to simply bypass the wreckage. Drivers honked rudely from the distance, not realizing what had taken place ahead of them.
The local newspaper photographer arrived, her equipment shouldered. Most likely, this horrific event would make the statewide evening news. The photographer stayed out of the way, attempting to use zoom lenses. She spoke briefly with Det. Lio also photographing. Sara dreaded the need for anyone to photograph the two deceased. It seemed a breach of decency.
The photographer saw Sara and walked over to where she stood. “You won't believe how far the traffic's backed up.” She, too, was not able to drive close, so parked on the shoulder and hiked up the hill. The fragile lens of her camera poked out from inside a large black weatherproof bag.
“With only one road through this part of the island, I'd have to believe it.”
The photographer looked over the scene. “Kauai police never hurry. They're known to close roads for many hours to document and investigate the cause of serious accidents.” She nodded in the downhill direction. “They're starting to re-route traffic through someone's driveway.”
“How can that happen?”
“One driveway down the road a piece butts up to the highway.” The police must have made a deal with the homeowner so cars could drive through the ground cover that lines the highway, then through the private property. “Guess the homeowner will be compensated on that one.”
True, traffic had started to clear. Drivers had to back down the slope to the detour point. After driving through the homeowners yard, cars could then move through the interior of the subdivision on the opposite side of the highway and come out above or below the accident scene.
The low-slung gray clouds finally passed, leaving behind a light sprinkle. Sun broke through and brightened the scene. A double rainbow shown above the rooftops toward the Makaleha Mountain range.
The photographer resumed taking images. The driver's side door sat popped open. The medics were removing the man's body. The passenger's head and body remained hidden, covered with a white cloth that was soaking through with blood. A fireman began to break down the backrest of the front seat to extract the headless body.
Sara turned and glimpsed Ka'imi disappearing through Maleko's gate. Surprised that she had gotten out of the yard, she wanted to find out why, but felt glued to the accident scene, wishing to further aid the investigators.
She was fairly certain the driver of this truck was the same one that ran her off the road. Why would a black truck coincidentally be parked inside the cul-de-sac where she lived and then attempt to get away when noticed? If the police could catch the driver before he managed to escape into the backwoods, perhaps one mystery, that of the threats to her life could be solved.
Ambulance attendants appeared from behind the yellow tarps carrying body boards with bloody sheets covering the gruesome rem
ains beneath. Both bodies were loaded into an ambulance. No one spoke as it cautiously made its way past the wreckage and down the hill. No sirens blared.
The yellow tarps were being taken up. Two firemen appeared with blood smeared on their uniforms and gloves. Other firemen broke out a hose from the truck and sprayed them down while they stood on the side of the road in some low-lying Wedelia shrubs. It was a common and necessary precaution.
The plastic tarps were moved to form a cubicle while the firemen stripped out of their wet uniforms. This, too, was a common practice when human blood contaminated rescuers.
Sara and Birdie had discarded the bloodied gloves they wore into a bag offered by a fireman. The fireman with the hose allowed them to wash her hands and offered paper towels to dry them. Bao returned, waved sadly, shook his head, and then went home.
The glut of traffic finally cleared. A long-bed tow truck was directed over the curb to get into Maluhi'a Street, turn around and back up toward the scene. The massive gleaming red Fire Department HAZMAT truck arrived. The road would be closed till HAZMAT determined it was safe for people to be in the area. Their crews would handle the hosing down of the highway and any areas affected by the fuel spills. Testing, first, for levels of toxins, most likely would keep the road closed the rest of the day.
Another long-bed tow truck arrived and parked on the soft shoulder on the opposite side of the road. Police were marking off points and distances beginning their investigation. It would be a while before the truck was lifted off the sedan and both hauled away. Only after that could HAZMAT finish the cleanup.
Birdie had been quietly watching, strange that she hadn't spoken much at all. Birdie without a voice was something to behold, but the deadly scene left everyone speechless. Horrific accidents were on the rise on Kauai, but this wasn't the usual drunken partier ramming a telephone pole. Birdie finally spoke as she turned to head home. “Wonder if they caught that idiot yet.”
The lull in activity reminded Sara of seeing Ka'imi beating it into Maleko's yard. “I think we'd better check on your dog.”
“She's in the yard.”
“I'm sure I saw her hightailing it into Maleko's yard again.”
“Then she must have jumped the wall.” They hurried back to Birdie's gate. It stood open. “Danged! Do you think she figured out how to trip the lever?” Birdie ran to her back yard to make sure and then came rushing back. “Gone!”
“Then it was her I saw.” Sara turned to head up the street. “She's back at Maleko's.”
”Why would she go there?”
“She acts like she's on a mission, Birdie.”
They rushed to Maleko's yard and entered without thought of trespassing. Ka'imi lay on the ground under the picnic table.
Birdie snapped her fingers. “Come!”
Ka'imi welcomed them by whining and flopping her tail a time or two. Then she whined but didn't budge.
“What do you think she's trying to say?”
“Ka'imi!”
Ka'imi rose on all fours, scratched with her front paws, then sat again.
“She senses something there.” Sara pointed to the ground under Ka'imi's front paws. “A forensic dog is trained to sit where it senses something.”
They bent down to look underneath the table. Nothing shown underneath but dirt and dust and a couple of spider webs. Weeds didn't grow under or around the table because sunlight never hit the area under the overhang made by the upstairs add-on portion of the house. A few bones had been thrown in the yard, remnants of Maleko's recent barbeque and lack of a garbage can nearby.
Birdie picked up an old bone and tried to entice Ka'imi with it. Ka'imi could be hungry and smelling the pig Maleko roasted with Hien and others. Birdie lifted a knee to the bench and stuck the meat bone under the table near Ka'imi's nose. “Here, girl, come get it.”
Ka'imi tipped her head but didn't budge. Then she stood and sniffed the ground, again scratching in the dirt.
“I'm telling you, Birdie, she's onto to something buried. We'd better get an officer back here.”
Sara hurried halfway down the street with Birdie following and yelling to catch Officer Makamai's attention. “We think Birdie's dog has found something buried in Maleko's yard.”
“Yeah, maybe it's something to do with all those burglaries.” Birdie could be right.
If Maleko was committing those house break-ins, he had to stash the goods somewhere. He may not feel the need to hide his mother's jewelry, but in a warped mind, his family jewelry may have started him thieving and burying his horde. Maybe he just didn't know what to do with the items once stolen, so he buried them. Allegedly, seeing Sara wearing her blouses reminded him of his old sailor shirt and the day Leia went missing could be what caused him to steal her clothes. So his family jewelry could conceivably distort his thinking into taking jewelry and personal items belonging to other people. If it were that simple, and he had no other interest in jewelry or even selling it, he'd have to hide it someplace.
“Yeah, none of the stolen stuff showed up in the island's gold dealers' shops and Kauai has no pawn shops.” Officer Makamai squinted against the sunlight and then shaded his eyes with a hand. “Small items could be mailed away to other people, but not likely.” Whoever was committing the break-ins either wanted quick cash from unwary local buyers or tourists, or sold the stuff on the Internet. If the break-ins were just for kicks, the thieves would have to hide the stolen goods somewhere. Why not bury it? He turned to Sara. “You sure you got nothing else missing from your house?”
“Not that I could tell. Why?”
“Ka'imi would have to be familiar with an odor in order to track it. She wouldn't find stolen property without having a scent to follow.”
“But she's been sniffing everything since I got her from the police.”
“So that's how she found my blouses? She followed my scent to Maleko's yard?” Sara had been to Maleko's property when she sought help to pull Birdie up the cliffside. What may lie buried was the reason Maleko kept asking where the dog was before he all but bodily ejected her from his yard. Now Ka'imi caught her familiar scent in the area of the rusted refrigerator as well and the forensic training she had left her no choice but to investigate.
“But why would my dog act like she's found something else since Sara's got her two missing blouses? I can't get her to move from under the table.”
Officer Makamai stared off into the distance momentarily then looked back at Birdie. “What was she originally trained for when she worked?”
Birdie gasped.
Sara gasped. “Oh, no!”
“So what was she originally trained to sniff out?”
Birdie's eyes bulged. She slapped her hand across her mouth and swallowed hard. “Dead body scent!”
Chapter 47
Officer Makamai stared wide-eyed at Birdie. Finally he flinched. “Given that we may have found this guy's sister up on those cliffs, we'd better find out what's buried on his property.” He and Sara shared secretive glances. Birdie saw the expression between them and looked as if she felt left out of a conspiracy. Before she could comment, Officer Makamai called to Det. Lio and all headed through Maleko's gate again. Several officers joined them.
Ka'imi had dug quite a hole in the ground under the table. She worked hurriedly, making an occasional light whine.
“Ka'imi.” Birdie stooped down. “It's okay, girl, we're here.”
Ka'imi sat.
The size of hole underneath the table indicated that Ka'imi was not giving up on the attracting scent. It was not part of her training as a forensic dog to dig but to sit as a signal of a find. Whatever lay buried in the ground triggered a severe reaction in her.
“We already have a search warrant for the entire property.” Det. Lio gave the signal. “Let's move this table.”
Birdie secured Ka'imi to her leash and moved aside while officers lifted the table with attached benches completely out into the yard. Ka'imi's hole was half a foot deep.
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p; Det. Lio pointed to an officer. “We're going to need a shovel.” The officer went to his car returning with a collapsible one and began extending it.
Bao appeared, being greeted by officers who thanked him for handling traffic out on the highway. He was also who arranged for traffic to be re-directed through that private driveway. Bao was solemn, nodded once, but didn't say anything as he walked away with his head hanging low and shaking side to side.
A couple of officers produced white particulate respirator masks leaving them hang around their necks. One officer began enlarging the hole that Ka'imi had started. The ground deeper inside the hole turned into hard sticky red clay. An officer turned the shovel backward and speared the hard pack, breaking it loose and making it easier to scoop out. He kept digging, finding nothing. The rain finally gone and the streets dried, the sun beating down made it hot, humid and sticky under the sheltered area. Another officer took a turn with the shovel and resumed digging.
They waited expectantly. The arduous task would take time, made more difficult with the small shovel. Ka'imi's forensic training had told them something lay beneath. Officers would dig until whatever Ka'imi sensed was found. Bao returned home and brought back bottles of drinking water and a regular sized shovel. Again, the first officer took over the digging. The hole was now nearly two feet deep and three feet long. As he threw the next shovel of dirt, a shredded bit of thick rag landed with it. The tiny remnant was worm eaten and rotted.
The officer used the tip of the shovel to drag it out of the dirt pile. “Looks like a piece of old blanket.”
Sara remembered what it was like seeing the remains of Esmerelda's husband when his body was found. He had been wrapped in black plastic polythene. It did little to keep the bugs from feasting on his clothes and remains. What was left of his clothing came out of the shallow grave in tiny remnants, similar to what this officer had just brought up. She was about to mention the fact that they could be contaminating the site.
