by Mary Deal
“I hope we find what we're looking for in here.” Seeming to sorely dislike this part of his job, the officer bent over and picked through the stack on the floor and found nothing. Grimaces from both Det. Lio and the officer said sorting through smelly clothes wasn't the way they preferred to spend the morning.
Sara couldn't help herself. She wasn't gloved but flipped through the clean shirts and gasped. She held up a black tee shirt that looked a little spent. “I'll bet this is what you're looking for. The shirt had a hole at the lower right back edge.
Det. Lio nearly jumped across the room to her. “Got it! Got it!” He grabbed the shirt. He held it up for the officer to see, revealing the front and then the back. The back lower right had a two inch gaping hole down near the seam. He and Det. Lio joyfully slapped a high-five. The officer turned to Sara, smiled and unceremoniously offered a hand. She smacked him a high-five in return.
That shirt was the one reported by the missing North Shore woman's friends. The officer dropped the shirt into a paper bag and marked and sealed it as evidence. Maleko had already washed it, maybe hoping to remove evidence of what he did. Then again, maybe he didn't see it that way. Could killing be such a casual event to him that he paid little attention to the clothes he wore, just laundered them and got on with his daily routines?
Sara looked around the room. The washer and dryer stood in the corner with a utility sink along side, and a window behind that. Thick dusty spider webs sagged in the corners. The window surely hadn't been opened in years. The sill was thick with dust and grime, the paint flaking and peeling. The doorway to the outside staircase stood next to it.
She remembered the picture from the old newspaper article at the Lihue Library. It was the very same room. Nothing had changed except, perhaps, the layers of grit. “This laundry room is where Maleko's mother found his torn shirt and muddy shoes in that sink the day Leia went missing.”
“No kidding.” Det. Lio seemed remembering. “That is the ultimate irony.”
“What is 'ultimate irony'?” The officer cocked his head to one side.
“Ha!” Det. Lio smiled with a look of knowing. “Now we find this critical evidence in the same room.” He looked hard at the officer who seemed to be trying to understand. “That's irony.”
Sara nodded in agreement. “Did you check the other rooms?”
“We got what we came for.”
Sara would persist. “If you have a few minutes, you might want to see some of Maleko's art in one of the other bedrooms. It might help explain about him. And you may identify a bludgeoning weapon in a painting downstairs in the studio.” She paused only a second. “You might also check places under the junk pile where the boards were thrown. I find it curious that Ka'imi pawed and sat down there too.”
Chapter 55
Two weeks later, though the yellow police banner still crossed the driveway and fence, it sagged and flapped in the breeze. Neighbors sauntered by, peering over the gate but would see nothing but litter. Further inspection of the ground under the rotting furniture was delayed. Sara couldn't understand why. She could take Ka'imi over again to let her rout around, but maybe not. For the time being, the property was off-limits to everyone, including her, and she knew better than to get herself arrested.
The exterior doors of Maleko's house remained sealed with plastic tape stuck to the knobs and door jams. The entire property would remain sealed until his fate was decided. DNA proved the remains unearthed were those of Maleko's mother.
Bao went into seclusion, no longer leaving his garage door open to circulate the air, no longer peeking from behind the hedges.
Several weeks passed with Sara roughing out plans to refurbish her house. She expected to be subpoenaed and wished to get it over with. Officer Makamai showed up, almost embarrassed by his intrusion. Sara was glad to see him. She wanted to know more about the prosecutor's progress. She pretended not to notice that Officer Makamai showed even more personal interest in seeing her than discussing the case. He had the feel about him like a cat waiting to pounce.
Overall, he was businesslike. “The psychiatrist reported that Maleko is insane. Prosecutors will have a hard time building and proving their case involving Leia, maybe the mother too.”
The Prosecutors were progressing their cases regardless of the preliminary prognosis of his diminished mental capacity.
The investigators were looking into the death of Maleko's father since he died at home. However, after more than five years, it might be difficult to change the records or disprove the original cause of death. The autopsy report did not indicate any criminal suspicions. He was buried in Honolulu.
Maleko was charged with the murder of his sister, based on the motive that he hated his mother for having a child with Down syndrome. While a possible murder weapon was not found, the force of the blow to his mother's head, and the shape of the hole in the skull, indicated the blow to be caused by a blunt object, most likely, by the round end of a claw hammer or similar tool. Maleko's own painting of the hands and arms raising a bloody claw hammer would be used as evidence in the trial.
The charge of murder of the woman from the North Shore would be handled as a separate case and go to trial first, hopefully later, lending credence to the cases of Maleko's mother and sister.
“I guess they'll never know where the mother was killed.” Officer Makamai seemed sad. “There was no blood anywhere in that house, but it's suspected it happened right there.” He nodded in the direction of Maleko's house.”
“Maybe that's why he built the new portion on the back. Tear down the old blood stained back wall and replace it with new.” Then she had another thought, another shocking idea. “Check those old bug eaten boards that lay way down at the end of the junk pile in the back. They may be the boards from the old wall.”
Officer Makamai wrote notes as fast as he could. “If there's any blood—“
“It hasn't been that long. They might still get DNA.”
He sighed. “If there's any blood.”
“Maybe that's why Ka'imi pawed around and sat down a couple of times back there.” Sara was on to something. She knew it in her gut. It was a long shot but one that needed to be investigated. One other fact or lack of fact bothered her. “Other than me seeing that truck on the west side, there are no witnesses in the Waimea murder.”
“We have more evidence.” Officer Makamai smiled as only a policeman could when feeling vindicated. “Maleko's hair was put up in a knot.” He made a motion like winding his hair on the top of his head.
“He went along with it?”
“Yes and we gave him his shirt with the hole to wear. He was probably happy, thinking he could get out of wearing the jail uniform. He welcomed the tee shirt like it was his favorite piece of clothing. Others in a police line-up wore similar torn shirts and hair knots. Five witnesses from the North Shore bar identified him in the line up from seeing him from the back view only. That's flimsy ID, but they're the ones identifying the hole in his shirt and the bun in his hair that first day of the investigation.”
“And the bartender?”
“IDed Maleko as drinking for about an hour but didn't see him leave. The woman was a regular. He paid little attention to her except to keep her glass filled. When he went back to her end of the bar, she was gone.”
“What time of day did he notice her gone?”
“Both of them. Late afternoon. The woman always came in after her swim. Her hair was still wet when she got there.”
The newspaper had been running articles about the accident on Kuamo'o Road at the opening of the cul-de-sac. Sara gestured toward the intersection. “The woman in the back seat died from brain injuries while in the emergency room.” Everyone in the neighborhood was affected by that news. “The man beside her was thrown forward and evidently collided with the head rest on the front seatback. It tore his aorta loose but they rushed him to surgery. Both weren't wearing seat belts.”
Officer Makamai nodded. “Yes, and that gu
y's hanging on. For that deed, Maleko's charged with three counts of vehicular manslaughter and one attempted vehicular manslaughter.”
“Attempted? As in intentional?”
“Yes, because once Maleko's truck was on top, he tried to drive off, knowing people were in the car underneath. If that man dies…” Officer Makamai slowly shook his head and sighed heavily. “I've been on the force all my life and that was the worst I've seen.”
“I'm relieved this is all coming to closure.”
“But there's more.”
“I guess knew that.” Sara raised her eyebrows.
“Maleko is charged with multiple attempts on your life. First, he's already admitted to working on your trail and dropping nails in your driveway. He may have been the one who damaged your trail so you'd fall. Second, the attempted manslaughter charge because Birdie fell down the cliff.”
Sara nodded. “Guess I'll be coming back to the Island sooner than planned.”
“There's also another attempted murder charge for pushing you over the cliff. Plus the evidence that he's the one who ran you off the road.”
“But it's mostly circumstantial. That's all got to be proven.” She threw up her hands. “If Maleko doesn't confess…”
“All these incidences are related, even misdemeanors, like writing on your house. They'll make it stick. He gets excited and blurts out a lot of stuff. They're just chipping away at him to help him to get it off his conscience.”
“Do you think he's confused enough to unload?”
“We're trying for it.” Officer Makamai seemed to want to prolong the meeting. He dared smile. “If Ka'imi was still on the police force, they could charge Maleko with assault on an officer. He allegedly was the one who gave her sleeping pills.”
“A police dog is considered an officer?”
“Yep.”
Suddenly, mournful howling came from the direction of the howling cliffs. Sara and Officer Makamai stared at one another in surprise.
“You'd think the dogs wouldn't howl anymore.” He had a look that asked what else could be up there to keep the dogs acting that way. “The remains have been removed.”
“Given we've learned how crazy Maleko may be, and he's the alleged killer of the North Shore woman, maybe your guys should scour that area up there on the cliffs. You still have other people missing on this island.”
With the dogs continuing to howl, the area at the howling cliffs should be thoroughly searched. Officer Makamai's stare was intense.
Sara did not wish to encourage him toward anything other than a business friendship so left the conversation dangling. He finally left with a saddened expression. He was a great looking guy with humility, and a keen sense of knowing when not to push the conversation, but Huxley was the love of her life. There would be no others.
Later that week, Sara telephoned Huxley.
“I'm glad to hear your voice.” His was deep and resonated love and a sense of urgency. “I thought you might be forgetting about me.”
“Not on your life.” She smiled into the phone. “Where are you now?”
“Sacramento. Got some details to wrap. I need you here Sara. I'm serious. You've got to come as soon as possible.”
“I have some good news for you, sweetheart.” She paused to keep him in suspense. Finally she said, “They've allowed me to do several depositions. I shouldn't have to appear in person to testify in this case.”
“So now you can devote more time to the house.” His voice told how much the strain of separation was affecting him.
Any remodeling would have to wait. The improvements she was able to make thus far would serve the purpose of the house till she could return. “No, Hux. I've already got my boarding pass. I'll be in Sacramento late tomorrow evening.”
Nothing but silence came through the phone. Then she heard Huxley breathing heavily. Surely, he couldn't be crying, but he could get emotional at times, though mostly involving the MIAs. Something was up.
Chapter 56
A true friend, Birdie Crew agreed to keep multiple sets of keys to the Kauai house. She would do her best to make the traveling veterans feel comfortable. As much as she claimed not wanting to meet a new man, she jumped at the chance to greet any veteran passing through. Birdie, a military wife before her husband passed away, would have a great time with the military types who would visit for R&R. The friendships with people with whom she had much in common could prove auspicious and bring unexpected delight into Birdie's life. She was long overdue for a bit of joy but would never admit it.
The air hop from Kauai to Honolulu International Airport on Oahu left Sara with a one and one-half hour lay-over. She shopped for Hawaiian gifts she would bring home. The five-hour flight landed at the Sacramento International Airport at 9:30 pm. Her impatience and tolerance of the empty hours was tempered with listening to music and studying the progress reports Daphine had emailed regarding the Orson Talbot Foundation.
She had worn a floral island style dress with pale pink orchids in the print. She wanted to surprise Huxley. She had picked up a bronze tan and knew she looked like an island girl, except for her blonde hair, which had grown long and hung in curls. They saw each other as soon as she exited the plane and walked into the crowd at the gate. He wore summer weight slacks and one of his ever tasteful aloha shirts.
Huxley waved and yelled and ran toward her. “Sara, finally home! Finally home!”
“Huxley!”
They crashed into each other. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and swung her around. Her legs flew out behind.
A young child's voice in the crowd cried out, “Look mama! Just like on TV! Mama! Like in the movies!”
Huxley put her down and they kissed. Someone whistled. People began to clap. Huxley finally pulled away. Sara promptly placed a handsome white Micronesian Ginger lei around his neck. The wide and flat white ginger buds were wildly fragrant. He sniffed the delectable scent. They must have been a spectacle. A boisterous crowd had gathered around them. Slightly embarrassed, Sara covered her face with her hand.
Huxley waved and smiled jovially. “Thank you!” After claiming her luggage, they headed toward the parking lot. “I'll drive. You must be exhausted from that long flight.”
Sara grinned like a cat swimming in a fish tank. Sure, Huxley knew about long tiring flights. She was sure he wondered if she were too tired to do anything but crash into bed and sleep. She glanced at him sideways and raised an eyebrow.
He let out a quirky laugh. Then he noticed the fading scar on her chin and concern showed on his face as he took a good look. “I want to hear every detail about that Kauai case.” He enunciated every word. Huxley knew the scar had something to do with the case. She would have some explaining to do, but knew what she had been through would get the point across that her determination was strong enough to handle most anything. They needed that depth of commitment for the work they did together.
They finally reached the Elk Grove Cemetery. She hand-carried three more Hawaiian leis. Past midnight, she stood in front of her family's gravesites, still unable to envision her mother and father as anything but skeletons in their coffins, but her hate of them had long ago vanished.
In the past when she and Huxley visited, he would stand beside the tall oak tree nearby, cognizant of her mood to be alone with her family. The tree was planted shortly before her family was buried. After decades, it was now a mighty oak. Seeing Huxley standing beside the sturdy trunk reminded that he carried that same strength and endurance. It had rained, the leaves and branches of the tree dripped sustenance to the water line.
Huxley ducked out from under and came to stand beside her. They belonged side by side. He had changed her life. She no longer felt the gnawing sadness about her family being gone from her. Huxley had helped her heal.
After decades, she was able to let go of the hurt, maybe not even visit the graves as much, but remember her family the way they were in happy times. Then she remembered the happier times were mo
stly with her little sister and felt momentarily saddened.
Knowing this could be her last visit for a long time, Sara draped a lei of Ti Leaf and Kukui Nut on the left side of her parents' joint headstone for her dad; on the right, a lavender Dendrobium Orchid lei for her mother.
With the grass wet from an earlier shower, she refrained from kneeling in front of her sister's headstone. Starla, a precocious and energetic little girl, didn't deserve to die the way she did. Sara choked up. She missed her sister more than anything and wished she could share the beauty of Hawaii with her.
“This is a gift for you, Starla.” She draped the double White Orchid and Rose Petal lei over Starla's headstone.
Sara's heart was too sad, her emotions too raw. In letting go of the past, it was Starla who would remain with her in memory. Usually she spoke to her sister, telling of the highlights since her last visit. Tonight, she couldn't bring out the words. Her sister would know what was in her heart. She usually didn't cry anymore at her family's gravesite, but tonight she swiped away tears. Life was taking her in many directions and presenting diverse experiences and it would have been wonderful if her family were alive to share her accomplishments. “I'll always miss you, Little Sis.”
Rain started, a message that it was time to leave. She had almost relinquished the plot for herself next to Starla when she decided she wanted to spend eternity next to Huxley. Yet, she had not given up the plot after all. Her unfinished headstone, with her name and birth date but no end date, sat in its place waiting. She didn't know how to let go of it, seeing it as the last connection to her family.
The rain stopped once they were on their way. The Sacramento River Delta would experience it in a start and stop manner, sometimes severe, for the rest of the year and into the New Year. They had both learned how to maneuver the rural levee roads at night in any weather. As a teen, she had never driven in the Delta; not until returning to the area after a thirty year absence. Huxley had easily acclimated to the seasonal climate changes and made the Delta his second home. She was also thankful this was the Fall and not the season for Advection Fog that blanketed Central California during winter and spring.
