Maui Murders

by Kathy Callahan

  Annie went to her purse and took out her cell, handing it to George. He went to a kitchen cabinet took out a baggie, put the cell phone in the baggie, and asked her for the $20 she was taking with her, adding that to the baggie.

  George handed the baggie to Annie, saying, “Carry this in your pocket, and call me if anything happens or if you need help. I have my cell phone with both the ringer and vibrator on, so I won’t miss your call.”

  “Oh, George, you worry so. I can take care of myself.”

  “Damn right, I worry. I love you, got it?”

  Annie felt bad at the tone she had used and reached up, pulled him down to her, giving him a loving kiss. “I’m sorry, George, sometimes I get too independent. I love you like crazy, you big lug.”

  George hugged her to him, then turned her around and headed her out the back slider toward the stairs leading up to the main highway. “Now be careful, watch for low-flying birds blown off course.”

  “My god, George, can you think of any other weird thing that could happen?” Annie asked, laughing.

  George watched Annie head up the stairs as the rain began to come down; he went back to his nailing duties. He couldn’t get Annie’s feeling of foreboding out of his mind; he wanted his Annie back home safely.

  George was right; the stairs were slippery, and the wind did not help. More than once, Annie grabbed the rail to keep from slipping. At the top of the stairs, she looked up and down the deserted Hana Highway, bolted across the street, up the stairs to the market’s veranda, and around the side to the store entrance. She opened the screen door and walked inside; there sitting on the counter was her coveted Yuban. She put her money under the money rock and was ready to leave when she heard noise from the Okamotos’ living quarters; the entrance was directly behind a tropical drape. Annie quietly pulled back the curtain and looked into the living room. She saw the Okamotos sitting in their recliners, Mr. Okamoto’s hand holding his wife’s, while the television gave current storm updates. Annie imagined they had been quite tired, to have gone to sleep in their recliners.

  Annie never figured out what made her walk into the living room, around the outside of Mr. Okamoto’s recliner to the television and turn the set off. She turned around to tiptoe out when she let out a silent scream and backed up into the television for support, hugging her Yuban like it was her life support.

  In front of her sat the Okamotos, their heads hung loosely, both their throats were slit, and blood covered their bodies. Annie propelled herself around the recliners, out the draped doorway, through the market, and outside to the veranda. She made it as far as the front steps and hung on to the stair column for support. After several deep breaths, she backed up and sank into one of the rattan chairs on the veranda. She kept taking deep breaths and reached inside her slicker to retrieve her cell phone. She dialed the sheriff’s office, and Charlene answered.

  “Charlene, this is Annie Boone. Is the sheriff or Danny there?”

  “No, Danny is checking flooded areas and the sheriff is on patrol. Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, something terrible has happened. Have one of them get to Okamoto’s Market immediately.” Annie hung up and called George.

  “What’s happened, honey? Do you need help?”

  Annie replied with a stern, serious tone. “I’m fine, but something horrible has happened, and I’ll be with the sheriff for a while. Listen to me, George, and I want you to do exactly as I ask. Lock the house up, all the entrances. Get your gun from the safe, and keep it with you at all times. Someone will bring me to you, but do not leave the house. There is a crazy person out there who has committed a horrendous crime.”

  George could not believe what Annie was telling him but knew by the sound of her voice she wasn’t kidding. “You don’t want me to come for you, just stay here?”

  “Yes, please, honey. You can keep our home safe, and we know there won’t be anyone waiting for us while we’re away.” Annie saw the sheriff pull up in front of the market. “I have to go now, the sheriff is here. I’ll be home just as soon as I can. I love you,” Annie said and disconnected the call.

  CHAPTER 7

  The sheriff looked up the walkway and saw Annie Boone sitting in a wicker chair on the wraparound veranda, elbows on her knees and head between her knees.

  “Christ,” he muttered, rushing up on the veranda. Softly, he said, “Annie, it’s the sheriff. You called the office and told Charlene you needed me here right away. How can I help you?”

  Annie raised her head; her eyes were red and her voice was shaky. “Go into the Okamotos’ living quarters and see for yourself. I found them.”

  A couple of minutes passed until the sheriff returned to Annie’s side. “Annie, I’m so sorry you had to be the one to find the Okamotos. This is horrible. No civilian should have this vision in their memory.”

  The sheriff called Charlene. “Call Danny and have him bring two cups of hot coffee to Okamoto’s Market. Then contact the county coroner. We need him here right away.”

  “Forget the county coroner, the roads are washed out on their side. I’ll get Danny on his way immediately.”

  The sheriff sat with Annie, rubbing her hands; in ten minutes, Danny Kino arrived, walked up to the veranda, and handed the coffee to the sheriff, who passed a cup to Annie.

  The sheriff turned and addressed Danny, “Tape off the area from the street to include the entire market area.”

  “What’s the problem, Chief?”

  “So you understand the gravity of this situation, go in the market and look into the Okamotos’ living quarters, but don’t touch anything.”

  Less than a minute later, Danny came running out, his hand to his mouth.

  The sheriff yelled at him, “Don’t puke on my crime scene! Go down to the curb if you’re going to be sick.” The sheriff turned to Annie. “I’ll have Danny walk you down to your home as soon as he has this area taped off. In the meantime, go sit in my truck. It’ll be more comfortable.”

  Annie nodded in agreement, got up, and began walking down the stairs, when she let out a shriek. “My god,” she cried, “another body!” She pointed to a man slumped against the brick wall of Otis’s Diner.

  “Christ!” the sheriff exclaimed. “I’ll check it out, but first, I want you safely in the truck.”

  He escorted Annie down the veranda steps, blocking her view of the wall. The sheriff walked to the body and heard snoring coming from the recognizable figure asleep against the wall.

  “Damn it, Dewey. What the hell are you doing passed out here?” the sheriff asked, nudging him in the thigh.

  The man moved, smiled, and said, “I went to Joey’s bachelor party last night, had too much to drink, walked to Otis’s for a hamburger and fries. He was ready to close but fixed me something to eat and told me I would have to eat it out here.” Dewey gestured to a table and four chairs in a small covered area next to the diner. “I ate my food and just dropped off to sleep. I woke up when someone brought the Okamotos home.”

  The sheriff interrupted, “What time was that? Do you have any idea?”

  Dewey sighed, trying to make his brain come up with the correct answer, “Oh, I remember, when I went into the market, the clock over the cooler said 3:30.”

  “You were inside the market?”

  “Yep, I was so thirsty. Too much booze can do that to you, you know, cotton mouth?” Dewey asked, smiling up at the sheriff.

  “Dewey, go on with what happened when you were in the market. Did anyone come in while you were there?”

  “Sheriff,” Annie yelled, “is everything OK?”

  “Everything is fine. It’s Dewey. He was sleeping. He had too much to drink. I’ll have Danny get you home just as soon as he can,” the sheriff replied.

  “No, just Mrs. Okamoto and me. I told her I needed something for a fuzzy tongue, and she got me an orange soda. She said
they had just gotten back from Oahu. They attended a dinner and program where her son and his coworker were honored. She said his friend and his wife brought them from the airport. They had flown together, getting the last flight from Oahu to Maui.” Dewey related his story as well as his memory would serve him. “She also said they were staying in Joe Wong’s rental, the one at the end of the street, on the left.”

  “Go on,” the sheriff said, offering the other coffee to Dewey.

  “Thanks, I really need this,” Dewey said, accepting the coffee. “I tried to pay Mrs. Okamoto for the soda, but she said she was too tired to turn on the cash register and I should put the money in the charity jar. I put two dollars in the jar, thanked Mrs. Okamoto, left, and came back here under the awning to drink my soda. I figured I would stay here until the rain stopped. It was too windy and rainy to get home right then.”

  “So you just fell asleep, on the ground, with all the rain and wind?” the sheriff asked Dewey, sounding like he didn’t quite believe his story.

  “Well, while sitting, drinking the soda, and feeling miserable, I remembered a favor given out at the bachelor party,” Dewey said with a wince on his face. “So I lit up and smoked half and sort of slipped off to sleep.”

  “Dewey, are you telling me that marijuana cigarettes were given out as party favors at a bachelor party, and you sat here, smoked one, and passed out?” The sheriff could not believe what he was hearing.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll pay a fine.”

  The sheriff told Dewey that Annie Boone had come into the store and found the Okamotos murdered in front of their television.

  “I feel really bad. I might have been able to help the Okamotos, had I not passed out.”

  “Son, I doubt you could have done anything. It appears someone snuck in and committed the murders while it was raining and the wind was blowing. You probably wouldn’t have been able to hear anything.”

  “But, Sheriff, if I heard a gunshot, I would have helped them,” Dewey said with agony in his voice.

  The sheriff looked at Dewey, sighed, and said, “They weren’t killed by a gunshot. Dewey, I need your help now. Annie Boone found the bodies. She needs to get back home. She’s in my truck. Can you please get her down the steps to her home and wait for me there?”

  Dewey got to his feet and went toward the sheriff’s truck with the sheriff right behind him. The sheriff said as he opened the passenger’s side door, “Annie, Dewey is going to walk you down the stairs and wait at your house until I get there. It could be a while. Will that be OK with you?”

  “Yes, thank you. I’ll call George to let him know we’re on our way. Dewey, you’re soaking wet,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll tell George to get you in the shower, and we’ll find some of my son’s clothes that he leaves behind for you to wear, and you look like you could use breakfast.”

  Annie was in a motherly mode, helping to distract her from the horrible vision earlier that morning.

  Annie called George, “Honey, Dewey is bringing me home. Just wait for us on the back lanai. Dewey will need a shower and some clean clothes—use some of Charlie’s—then he needs breakfast.”

  “I’ll be here waiting for you both. Take extra care coming down those steps, OK, honey?”

  “We’ll be fine, dear. We’re leaving now.”

  “Sheriff, you and Danny come and get breakfast when you can.”

  “Thank you, Annie. We surely will do that, but it will take us sometime to finish here.” The sheriff herded Annie and Dewey across the street to begin their trek down the stairs.

  Dewey tapped Annie on the arm and asked her, “May I carry that can of coffee for you in case you need to grip the handrail?”

  Annie handed over her can of Yuban. “Thank you, Dewey. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  They began slowly going down the wet stairs.

  The sheriff went back to his truck where it was dry and contacted Charlene. “Charlene, Mr. and Mrs. Okamoto have been murdered in their living quarters. This is a terrible situation, but we need to keep a lid on it as long as possible. Since we can’t get the coroner here, can you have Dr. Tan come to Okamoto’s Market?”

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” Charlene replied, “I got a call from Dr. Tan about five hours ago. He went to Hana to help a tourist that was having a heart attack. Only, it was indigestion, but he’s stuck there until the washed-out road is repaired, which will be sometime.”

  “Damn,” the sheriff replied, “I’ll let you know what we are going to do once Danny and I talk it over. I’ll contact the county sheriff and update him on the situation and see how he wants me to handle things. Call me on my cell if anything else happens. Danny and I will be at Okamoto’s Market until we let you know differently.”

  “Sheriff,” Charlene said hesitantly, “Mrs. Okamoto told me about going to Honolulu. What about Kim Okamoto? Should I try and reach him?”

  “Not yet. He can’t get to the island because of the weather. No sense telling him the bad news without him being able to get over here. I’ll get back to you on that one. We’ll keep each other informed.”

  Dewey and Annie started down the stairs, more precarious now as a gusty wind was blowing off the ocean into their path, along with a steady rain. They gripped the rail to avoid slipping and finally finished their journey.

  “Annie!” George exclaimed. He rushed up and grabbed his wife as she stepped onto their covered back lanai; he hugged her and felt her slump in his arms. “I’ve been so worried. What happened?”

  Dewey walked over to the large table and sat down. He also wanted to know what exactly had happened.

  George led Annie to a chair, pulled it out for her, and sat by her side. He put his arm around her and drew her into his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, honey.”

  Annie related the horrors of her discovery, trying to remember the terrible details so both George and Dewey could fathom what some monster had done. She cried softly into George’s shoulder when she finished, then Dewey told them what he knew and how bad he felt that he did not help the Okamotos and would carry that guilt with him forever.

  Dewey did not relate to either of them that he would have to change his life as events seemed to be bringing him back to a former life he had managed to escape from for a while. Dewey sighed, realizing it was time he returned to adulthood.

  The tension drained from Annie, so George suggested she get out of her wet clothes. He would get Dewey into a shower and locate clean clothes then fix him breakfast.

  “George, don’t leave the lanai doors unlocked. There is a psycho out there, and I don’t want us to be his next victims.”

  “I took your suggestion and got the gun out of the safe. I’ll carry it with me for now. Come on. Let’s get everyone clean and into dry clothes. Annie, are you going to be OK using the shower? Will you need help?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Get Dewey into the shower and find him some clothes. Oh, Dewey, give George the Yuban.”

  Dewey handed over the large can of Yuban. George took the coffee and frowned. “This damn coffee has caused more trouble than any of us could have imagined.”

  “George, I told the sheriff that he and Danny should come by for breakfast when they finished at the market.”

  “Sweetheart, that was very thoughtful of you. I’ll fix them breakfast when they get here.”

  Twenty minutes later, a clean and dry Dewey appeared on the lanai. His hair was combed, and although he couldn’t be sure, George thought he might have trimmed his beard some.

  “How do you want your steak and eggs?”

  “Medium on the steak and scrambled for the eggs, if you please. It’s really kind of you and Annie to get me cleaned up and feed me breakfast.”

  “Dewey,” George said, looking intently at him, “I’ve always felt there were more layers to you than any of us see. Your speech is more educated, and when
we discuss windsurfing, you use terms that definitely are from someone with a knowledge of engineering.”

  Annie stepped onto the lanai; she wore shorts and a faded Stanford T-shirt. “Honey, what would you like to eat?”

  “Scrambled eggs with grated cheddar and toast.”

  “No problem, coffee?”

  “Lord, yes, I need another cup right now,” Annie said, going to the plate on the griddle, holding an old-fashioned percolator coffeepot. She poured herself a cup of dark coffee, took a sip, and sighed. “Dewey, would like some coffee?”

  “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

  “I smell food cooking” came the voice of Mr. Soo as he ascended the lanai stairs.

  Mr. Soo, George and Annie’s neighbor for many years, was a frequent visitor whenever grilling took place. He was certain Mrs. Soo had been trying to kill him since the day they married many years ago in China. She fed him nothing but fish, rice, and vegetables, all cooked Chinese style. The thought of fried food sent Mrs. Soo into a shrill Chinese lecture that had kept the mention of such foods out of the house for her children and Mr. Soo. Mr. Soo ate a small bowl of rice for breakfast then went to Otis’s Diner for an American breakfast. He would stay away from home most of the day, greeting old friends, talking, and back to Otis’s for lunch, usually a cheeseburger, fries, and malt. Although he ate a fattening breakfast and lunch, walking throughout Paia kept him slim.

  Mr. Soo had the franchise for cheap trinkets from China on all the islands for many years and kept the franchise for his sons, who now ran the business. He enjoyed his retirement, except for living with Mrs. Soo; their marriage had been arranged by both sets of parents. Mr. Soo had loved another and resented from the beginning the woman he was forced to marry. Once they came to the islands, he settled her in Paia and spent most of his time in Oahu. Although he was a millionaire many times over, he never took another woman, his passion being American fast food.