Murder on Kaanapali Beach

by R. Barri Flowers

  "So you think we've got our man?" Lieutenant Seymour asked her.

  "I hope so," she responded noncommittally. "Whether he's a single killer or serial killer remains to be seen." She had to admit that in either instance, Sawyer didn't exactly put up a fight when arrested. Most killers wanted to prove their toughness to the very end. But this one seemed resigned to his fate.

  Leila wouldn't try to get into his head on that. At least not yet. She was just happy that they were able to get him off the streets alive so they could interrogate him.

  "Well, get what you can out of him," Seymour directed. "Just be sure to cut it off the moment he asks for a lawyer. The last thing we need is for any of this to be inadmissible."

  "Got it!" she told him, and thought briefly about their time together. It suddenly seemed so long ago. Maybe because it had been. Or maybe it was because she didn't want to think that he could still be in her system in any way, romantically speaking.

  "Good luck," he offered.

  Leila gave a little smile. "Mahalo, but I don't think I'll need it. We already have Sawyer right where we want him. The rest will be a piece of cake." She wasn't sure she really believed that, but it sounded good anyway.

  Leila stepped inside the room with a bottle of water the suspect had requested. It was the least she could do, considering she wanted his cooperation in their investigation into one or more crimes.

  Sliding the bottle across the table, she sat on the other side and waited for him to take a drink before saying, "You've been a busy man, Sawyer."

  He cocked a thick brow. "Yeah, if you mean working my ass off at the hotel."

  "Actually, I mean strangling women to death," she countered bluntly.

  His eyes grew wide. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about."

  She wasn't buying it. Not that she expected him to say otherwise. Opening a folder, she removed the composite sketch and passed it to him.

  He looked at it as if it were an alien being. "What's this?"

  "It's called a composite sketch. The person in it was seen leaving the scene of a murder early yesterday on Kaanapali Beach. Does the image look familiar to you...?"

  He rubbed his nose nervously. "It isn't me."

  She had expected him to say that. Removing the image from the hotel security video, she showed it to the suspect. "This picture was taken at the Kaanapali Seas Hotel just after five a.m. yesterday, which is close to the time and spot where a woman was murdered on the beach. Your supervisor at the hotel identified you as the man in the picture. Are you denying it?"

  Sawyer licked his lips nervously. "Yeah, so it's me in the picture. But that doesn't mean I'm the one in that sketch—"

  "Cut the crap!" Leila said, peering at him. "We both know it is you in the composite. I can get the witness who saw you down here to pick you out of a lineup. Why don't you just save us both some trouble?"

  "All right, all right... I was on the beach and saw a guy, but that's it. I don't know anything about anyone being murdered."

  Leila rolled her eyes. She'd heard the totally innocent and baffled claims before. More often than not, they proved worthless. Maybe that was true this time too. She kept the pressure on. "You killed that woman, admit it. And you killed several others too. You're the Zip Line Killer..."

  Sawyer furrowed his brow. "Hey, now wait just a minute. If you're trying to make me out to be that serial killer, it won't work. I didn't kill anyone!"

  Leila glanced at the one-way mirror and back, knowing that for the moment they had nothing to tie the suspect to the Zip Line Killer and not nearly enough to charge him with the murder of Joyce Yashiro.

  "For an innocent man, you wasted no time running when we came after you," she pointed out.

  "I thought you were after me for something else," he said tensely.

  "What?" Leila was still waiting to hear from Chung on the suspect's criminal record.

  Sawyer sighed. "Okay, I wrote some bad checks and I've been trying to stay ahead of it. When I saw you, I panicked. I didn't want to go to jail."

  She let that sink in. Maybe he was into fraud. But that didn't mean he wasn't a killer, too. Most psychopaths were good at multitasking.

  "What were you doing on the beach at that time of morning?"

  He sipped some water. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd go out for a walk before work. There's no crime in that."

  Leila narrowed her eyes. "It's what you did afterwards—or prior—that is the crime of murder."

  "I'm not a murderer!" Sawyer exclaimed. "You've got the wrong man. I never even saw this woman. At one point, I nearly ran into a guy. I was in a hurry because I was running late, and I had to get to the hotel for work."

  She regarded him skeptically. "The sketch of the suspect—you—was released yesterday, including at the Kaanapali Seas Hotel. If you're so innocent, why didn't you come forward, admit it was you, and be on your way?"

  "I never saw the sketch till you showed it to me," Sawyer claimed. "I don't watch much TV or read the paper. No one ever came up to me and asked if I was the one in the sketch."

  Leila was still far from convinced that they had the wrong man. However, she was not exactly rock solid certain that he was the right man either. She pressed him for his whereabouts on the earlier murders attributed to the Zip Line Killer. His answers were sketchy, but they were alibis nevertheless that needed to be checked out.

  Chung stuck his head in the room. "Can I see you for a moment?"

  She nodded. "Be right back," she told Sawyer.

  He simply twisted his mouth.

  Once outside the interview room, Leila eyed Chung. "What did you find out about our suspect?"

  Chung frowned. "Not exactly what we wanted to hear. He's been arrested and served time for fraud and other property offenses and DUIs—but no crimes of violence. Of course, that doesn't mean he couldn't have still operated under the radar and been responsible for the death of Joyce Yashiro or others."

  Leila gazed at the suspect fidgeting in the room. She wasn't sure what she had expected the Zip Line Killer to look like or the killer of Joyce Yashiro, for that matter, if not one and the same. Sawyer probably fit the bill. Or maybe not.

  "He says he was just taking a walk before work when he passed the doctor," she told Chung, "but otherwise was not even been privy to Yashiro's corpse lying in the sand nearby."

  Chung peered at her. "And you believe him?"

  "I don't want to," Leila admitted. "But right now, we don't have enough to hold him—at least not for murder. He's confessed to writing bad checks. We can turn him over to the Fraud Unit while we check out his alibis and see what the crime lab and autopsy report turn up."

  "Good idea."

  She heard the buzz of her cell phone and saw a text that indicated almost on cue that the autopsy had been completed on Joyce Yashiro.

  * * *

  Leila and Chung stood in the morgue in front of a slab holding the remains of Joyce Yashiro. The decedent was visible down to just below her shoulders. Leila noted the paleness of her face and discoloration of her mouth, along with the obvious signs of trauma to her neck. She could only imagine what the victim had gone through at the end before peace came in death. But to put finality to her ending, they needed to know precisely how it came about, the time frame, and who was responsible.

  Leila looked at the other side of the table at her friend Doctor Patricia Lee, a coroner's physician who conducted the post-mortem of Joyce Yashiro. Lee belonged to the Hawaii Pathologists organization and rotated between the islands, performing her duties as called for. The Maui Police Department picked up the tab for all Maui County autopsies involving homicide cases.

  Patricia, who was petite with long black hair that was in a loose ponytail, wore glasses, which she adjusted while saying to the detectives: "Sorry to have to take you away from your busy schedules."

  Leila smiled at her. "We're all pretty busy these days trying our best to deal with these dead people."

  "Sad, but true,
" she agreed.

  "So what do you have for us, Doc?" Chung asked impatiently.

  "The victim's death was a homicide," she made clear. "This came as a result of asphyxia."

  "Meaning...?"

  "She was suffocated. This happened due to her face being pressed into the sand for a time, cutting off her breathing, thereby depriving her of oxygen."

  "Are you saying she wasn't strangled?" Leila asked, glancing at the victim's traumatized throat.

  "Actually, she was strangled," Patricia responded matter-of-factly. "But only after she was asphyxiated, which is what killed her."

  Chung frowned. "So are you saying she didn't die the same way the others did, who we all agree were strangled to death probably by the same person?"

  "I can't say for sure if this is a different killer or not, Detective, but if I had to make an educated guess as a pathologist, I'd say that what we have here is a copycat killer who wanted to make it seem like he or she was the so-called Zip Line Killer. Right down to making sure a zip line was left behind, wrapped firmly around the victim's neck."

  Leila had considered that they might have two different killers on their hands, but had assumed that one killer was responsible for the deaths of Joyce Yashiro, Marcia Miyashiro, Amy Lynn Laseter, and Ruth Keomaka. She wondered who wanted Joyce dead, while hoping to throw the police off course by using a zip line on the victim. The first thought that came to mind was the person they currently had in custody on suspicion of killing her.

  "What was the time of death?" she asked.

  "Based on all the information at my disposal, I believe the victim was killed between four a.m. and five a.m. Tuesday morning," Patricia said.

  Leila recalled that Evan Locklear had indicated it was around five when he ran into Bradley Sawyer near the spot where Joyce Yashiro's body was found. The hotel video showed Sawyer entering the lobby just after five. The proximity of the hotel and crime scene made it more than possible that Sawyer had time to commit the crime and get from point A to point B. But it also left nearly an hour for someone else to have murdered the victim and get away with time to spare.

  "Guess we've still got our work cut out for us," muttered Chung.

  "Don't we all," Patricia said. "And we wouldn't have it any other way because it's what we do."

  Leila reluctantly agreed, while saying with a catch to her voice: "If the dead could speak, it would make the process a little more palatable."

  "They do speak, Leila," she said, "through me, you, and everyone else left behind in our business who wants to see the case through, no matter where it takes us."

  "Well said," Leila admitted. She was already turning her thoughts to what direction they needed to go in now in order to solve this case, since it appeared it was not the work of the so-called Zip Line Killer.

  * * *

  As far as Jonny Chung was concerned, Bradley Sawyer was not out of the woods as the person who murdered Joyce Yashiro. The case for him being the Zip Line Killer had lessened though, after getting the autopsy report. The thought that this asshole might still be on the loose instead of behind bars was unsettling. But if it wasn't Sawyer, they would get him sooner or later, as he was bound to slip up. They always did.

  In the meantime, there was still the murder of Joyce Yashiro to solve. Chung and Leila left the morgue for the crime lab, looking for more pieces of the puzzle. They approached Gil Delfino, a forensic examiner.

  "Tell us you've found something useful," Chung said.

  Delfino, who was tall, lanky, and losing his dark blond hair, put down a turkey sandwich and responded. "I guess it all depends on what you call useful..."

  "Anything that can incriminate the killer of Joyce Yashiro would be nice," Leila told him.

  "Afraid I can't help you there. But what I can tell you is that we collected several different sizes of footprints in the sand, which you may or may not be able to eventually match to a suspect."

  Chung eyed him. "What about DNA?"

  "No DNA was collected, aside from the victim's," Delfino responded. "No fingerprints either. Considering the type of crime and the location, it's not too surprising."

  "Were you able to get anything from the zip line?" Leila asked.

  "Just the usual fibers left behind on and around the victim, which are consistent with those we tested from the victims of the serial killer. But, truthfully, since those zip lines are pretty standard stuff in their construction, it would be hard to link them to one individual user. On the other hand, if you can find the killer in possession of such, we can use the forensic similarities of the zip lines to make the case that this is your killer."

  "Thanks for telling us that, Sherlock," quipped Chung.

  Delfino grabbed his sandwich and took a bite. "Hey, I'm just trying to help any way I can, guys."

  "If you come up with anything else, let us know," Leila told him.

  "Will do."

  She smiled. "Enjoy the sandwich."

  Outside in the muggy air, Chung sighed. "It looks like we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way."

  "Don't give up on Delfino or modern technology just yet," Leila said. "The investigation into Joyce Yashiro's death is still new. We'll take each step as it comes—starting with the suspect in custody."

  "Think we've got the wrong guy?" Chung asked.

  "Maybe. We're checking out his alibis for the zip line murders, just to eliminate him there. As far as the murder of Yashiro, at the very least, Sawyer could have seen the killer while he was on the beach."

  Chung raised a brow. "You mean like the good doctor who was so helpful?"

  "I was thinking more like someone else who may have finished his business before Locklear reached the scene—and unintentionally crossed paths with Sawyer without giving it much thought at the time or since."

  "Guess we better check it out," Chung said, knowing neither of them could afford to leave one stone unturned with a murderer possibly still at large.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Parker Breslin's death can definitely be ruled a homicide," coroner's physician Patricia Lee told Detectives Rachel Lancaster and Trent Ferguson routinely, having completed the autopsy.

  Even if this almost went without saying, Rachel still felt badly for the victim in that moment, as murder was the worst of the worst ways to die in civilian life. The fact that he left behind a young child made it even more unsettling.

  "What else did the post-mortem show?" she asked her.

  "The victim died as a result of a single gunshot to the head, which tore through his brain. Mr. Breslin was already dead by the time the second bullet went into the back of his head. The initial bullet lodged in the victim's back, severing his spine."

  "Thanks for spelling it out," Ferguson said wryly, standing erect at over six feet tall. He frowned. "It was a nasty execution."

  Patricia looked up at him. "Is there really any other kind?"

  He shrugged. "I suppose not."

  Rachel sighed. "What about the bullets?"

  "I believe they were .45-caliber," said Patricia. "I turned them over to the crime lab for further analysis."

  They listened as she ran through the victim's height, weight, hair color, and other identifying marks for the record.

  Patricia made a face. "I hope you get whoever did this."

  "So do we," Rachel said, knowing no case was ever a slam dunk.

  "Count on it," Ferguson stated. "This was definitely personal for someone. We'll get to the bottom of it and make one or more arrests."

  Patricia batted her lashes. "You seem pretty confident about that."

  "What can I say—this is serious business."

  "Tell me about it," she said. "Playing with dead homicide victims like this and one from the other day—Joyce Yashiro, who was suffocated—is no laughing matter."

  "We hear you," Rachel chimed in, knowing that Leila Kahana and Jonny Chung were trying to solve that case. "No funny business here. Just the task at hand."

  "Don't let m
e keep you from it," Patricia told them. "And it's time for me to get back to work, too."

  "Aloha," Rachel said dryly.

  Ferguson saluted. "Later."

  The crime lab was their next stop in the building.

  "So what do you think?" Ferguson asked on the way. "Are we talking domestic violence or another type of homicide?"

  Rachel had to move her short legs that much quicker to keep up with his long strides. "Could be either," she responded diplomatically. "I need more to go on."

  "That's a cop-out," he said.

  "No, there are just too many possibilities to speculate." She grinned humorlessly, while knowing some possibilities had, in fact, crossed her mind. But they were more standard, based on what they were aware of thus far. "Ask me again after we see what forensics has to say."

  Ferguson seemed content with this. "You're on."

  * * *

  Forensic examiner Gil Delfino had been expecting the detectives handling the latest homicide to hit the island. Though he was damn good at his job, he took no pleasure doing it at the expense of innocent victims, when that was the case.

  "What's the news?" Rachel asked him pointblank.

  Delfino, who thought she was hot with the prettiest blue-green eyes, decided not to mince words. "There were three .45-caliber shell casings found at the scene of the crime. As such, the killer is in possession of a .45-caliber pistol—assuming he was stupid enough to hold onto it."

  "We may not need him to lead us to his identity and the weapon," Ferguson said confidently. "The shell casings can be entered into the Integrated Ballistic Identification System and compared with bullet casings from other guns put into the national database."

  Delfino grinned crookedly. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Detective. I was just about to say that."

  "Didn't mean to rain on your parade, Delfino—but we're all working together here toward a common goal—catching a killer."

  "Can't argue with you there," Delfino said. But he decided to add his own two cents nevertheless. "The system, run by the ATF, will allow us to hone in on each shell casing's fingerprint and any identifying marks that can lead to the weapon used to fire it."