Isle Be Seeing You (Islands of Aloha Mystery Book 9)

by JoAnn Bassett

  “Do you know what Doug told the police?”

  “I don’t have the full story. James said Doug told him they were fighting that morning and he followed her out to the garage and shot her.”

  “Because..?”

  “Who knows?”

  “It seems to me you’ve got to get to the bottom of that first. I mean, you told me yourself Doug’s extremely disciplined. What would cause a guy like that to just lose it?”

  “I’ve been wrangling with that since it happened. I know Doug was suspicious that something was going on with Lani, and he even followed her to see if she was having an affair, but when I asked him about it later he brushed it off.”

  “Did he say what he found out when he followed her?”

  “Not really.”

  He took a second helping of rice and passed the bowl over to me. “Maybe you should start there.”

  “But what about the broken window in the back door? And the contents of Doug’s stash drawer? There are so many loose ends.”

  “Yeah, but isn’t securing loose ends your specialty?”

  I shot him a puzzled look.

  “You know, like tying the knot.”

  I groaned at the bad pun but had to admit being a wedding planner had trained me to be pretty good at minding the details. At this point, though, it wasn’t so much about keeping track of the details as parsing which ones were relevant and which weren’t.

  ***

  On Friday morning I got to my shop around nine. I didn’t have much to do before heading out to Farrah’s house blessing, so I sat at my desk daydreaming about how I could break into the PoP. All at once it hit me. Why not just ask Ho when he planned to unseal it?

  I could frame the question so it wouldn’t sound suspicious. My daily schedule involved working out there and having the guan locked for an indeterminate time was a physical hardship for me and everyone else who trained there. Besides, it didn’t make sense for Ho to keep it locked indefinitely. Was he expecting evidence to suddenly appear out of nowhere?

  I called the police station and asked to speak to him.

  “Detective Ho is away until Monday,” said the clerk.

  I waited for further details but she didn’t offer any.

  “Do you know if anyone else there might be able to help me? I need to ask about releasing a crime scene. The police have sealed the gym where I work out there and I’m kind of anxious to get back before I forget my routine—or I give up and gain back the hundred pounds I’ve lost.” I chuckled as if I’d tried for funny, but we both knew it was more lame than funny.

  “Detective Wong is taking Detective Ho’s emergency calls. Do you consider this an emergency?”

  No way I’d go down that road. “No mahalo, I was just hoping for information.”

  I hung up and continued to kick around break-in scenarios. One involved me standing on the alley dumpster and shimmying through one of the skinny clerestory windows, but aside from realizing only a six-year-old could to fit through one of those windows there was also the tricky eight foot drop to the cement practice room floor.

  At ten I gave up trying to solve the problem creatively and decided to go direct. I hopped in the Mini and made my way down to the Kahului Police Station. At the front desk I asked to speak with Detective Wong.

  Wong came out, lifting an eyebrow as he recognized me as the “citizen” who was there to see him.

  “Ah, Ms. Moon. I should’ve taken bets in the break room that it would be you. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Maybe because you know the Palace of Pain is my home guan, and having it locked up presents a problem for me.”

  “Or maybe it’s because, once again, you’ve insinuated yourself into a police matter that’s none of your business.”

  I looked over at the clerk who was pointedly trying to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping. Wong also appeared to be assessing the situation.

  “We’ll be in Interview Two,” he said. “Hold my calls.”

  Wong closed the door to the interview room and told me to take a seat. I really wanted to get cheeky and plop down in the chair on the “police side,” the one closer to the door, but batted down the urge. After all, I was there to ask a favor.

  I made my way around the table and got as comfortable as possible in the hard-backed chair. I’ve never understood the reasoning behind the lack of amenities in police interrogation rooms. It seems to me if you’re going to hold someone in an airless, windowless room for hours on end trying to extract information they don’t want to give, it would behoove you to make the place seem more like the Merrie Monarch Suite at the Grand Wailea than the Seventh Circle of Hell. I’m just saying. The way I see it, a little quid pro quo could go a long way toward making both police work and snitching a lot more rewarding on both sides of the table.

  “So, what can I do for you today, Ms. Moon?”

  “I’m here to ask when the Palace of Pain in Pa’ia will be reopened.”

  “I guess that answer rests with whatever succession planning your friend, Douglas Kanekoa, has made. As you know, he’s been charged with second-degree murder.”

  “What I meant was, when we’ll be able to get in there and work out.”

  He twisted his mouth into a puzzled expression. “I don’t see why you couldn’t get in there today. If you have a key, that is. We locked it after our search on Monday, but as far as I know, it’s not a crime scene.”

  “I was there on Wednesday and Detective Ho sealed the door.”

  He shrugged. “First I’ve heard of it.”

  We stared at each other for longer than is comfortable and then I spoke up. “So what do I do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to get in there and work out.”

  “Look, Ms. Moon, this isn’t my case. If the door is sealed then you’ll have to wait until Detective Ho returns and ask him when it will be unsealed. I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

  I pondered my next move since it could go one of two ways. “Detective, you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye on my involvement in matters like this, but—”

  He cut me off with a snort. “That’s certainly an understatement.”

  “…but you have to admit I’ve actually helped, rather than hindered, more than a few times.”

  He leaned his chair back onto two legs and looked up at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure if it was a sign of his agreement or if he was simply contemplating where to go for lunch.

  I went on. “Remember that rich high-tech guy who murdered his friend over selling their company? Or how about the federal agent who got abducted by the narcos? Helping on that one landed me in witness protection. You want me to go on?”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Okay, but I think it’s safe to say you owe me.”

  He crashed the chair back down to all four legs. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And believe me, Ms. Moon, I’ve had to slough off more than my share of ridiculous when it comes to you.”

  “What is it with you, Wong? Is it sexism? Or does it just bug you that I’ve got great instincts but since I’m not wearing a badge you think you can disrespect me?”

  We locked eyes again in a game of first to blink loses.

  “Ms. Moon, I’ll be the first to commend you on your extremely rigorous sense of civic duty. And I’ll acknowledge that once or twice your ideas have proven to be helpful to this department. But I refuse to be coerced into doing whatever it may be that you want me to do out of some misguided notion on your part that I owe you anything. Do you understand?”

  I puzzled over his comment. Was he posturing for the video that was no doubt recording the meeting? Or was he so pig-headed that he truly felt that although I’d helped him numerous times he had no obligation to reciprocate? I took the high road and assumed it was the former.

  “Point taken. Then let’s not call this a favor but rather an opportunity for you to assist in averting a miscarriage of justice.”


  He scowled but didn’t object.

  “I know you’re not the lead on the Kanekoa case, but I think the investigation has been seriously compromised.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Doug Kanekoa has allegedly confessed to killing his wife but I have serious doubts about the truth of that confession.”

  Wong blew out a breath. “Okay, here it comes. The old ‘we forced a confession out of him’ ploy. Haven’t we both been around the block enough times to know that one’s not going to survive the smell test? One thing this badge offers is a front row seat to every dirtbag stunt out there.”

  He went on. “The forced confession scam goes something like this. We pick up a guy and he’s still hot from committing some heinous act so he confesses. He knows he did it. We know he did it. God knows he did it. Then the guy lawyers up and, guess what? Pretty soon the lawyer convinces him maybe he didn’t do it. Or maybe he had a darn good reason for doing it. Next thing you know, the confession’s recanted and Larry Lawyer’s pacing in front of the jury box with tears in his eyes bad-mouthing the integrity of the cop who took Señor Dirtbag’s confession.”

  I paused to absorb the enormity of Wong’s cynicism. “I understand that probably happens, but in this case I really think the confession’s a lie.”

  “You do realize how lame that sounds, right?”

  “I know. But let me explain. Doug’s not trying to get away with anything. In fact, I think it’s quite the opposite. I believe he’s trying to take the fall for someone else.”

  “By confessing.”

  “Exactly. Doug knows who killed his wife and he’s protecting them.”

  “Okay, I’ll play along. Who do you think did it?”

  “I don’t know. But I think as long as the police focus solely on Doug’s confession, the real killer will never be found.”

  “Are you insinuating we aren’t doing our job, Ms. Moon?”

  “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m asking for your help. Would you consider working with me to find out what really happened?”

  “A parallel investigation to Ho’s?”

  “I guess. If you want to call it that.”

  “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want me to go against direct orders, not to mention alienating my colleagues in the homicide squad, to look for a second suspect when we’ve already locked up a confessed perp? To put my good name, not to mention my career, on the line so I can go on a wild goose chase with you?”

  “Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid.”

  “That’s because it is stupid. And you’re stupid if you think I’d consider it.”

  “Okay, I understand this could be risky for you. But aren’t you even a little bit curious to know the truth? I mean, you went to school with Doug Kanekoa. You know he’s not the kind of guy who’d do something like this.”

  He furrowed his brow. “You know, Ms. Moon, the one thing this job has taught me is anybody’s capable of anything. Especially when sex is involved.”

  I straightened in my chair. I’d rarely heard Wong be so candid, not to mention outright blunt. “You think this was sexually motivated?”

  “Not for me to say. But point blank range tends to point to a crime of passion. And when the victim and perp are intimate partners, we take that into consideration. Lots of things happen behind closed doors. Things friends and family members never see.”

  I chewed on that for a moment. Could Wong be right and my highly-disciplined sifu was capable of turning into a raging out-of-control killer when he discovered he’d been cheated on? While I considered that possibility in a man I’d known for over ten years, Wong stood up.

  “I have no reason to believe Doug Kanekoa’s confession is anything but the straight-up truth,” he said. “But I’ll tell you what. If you bring me even a shred of evidence to the contrary, I’ll look into it.”

  The contents of the stash drawer came to mind. “But what if I need your help to get my hands on the evidence?”

  “Sorry. Like I said, it isn’t my case. If you insist on making it yours, I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

  I got up to leave.

  “Oh, and one more thing, Ms. Moon. If you get slapped with obstruction of justice, don’t expect me to come to your defense. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation never happened.”

  CHAPTER 19

  I left the police station with new resolve to once again get into Doug’s stash drawer. Maybe there was more than just crusty food containers and manila envelopes in there. I hoped there was, because I took Wong at his word about helping me if I could come up with something. Maybe nothing in there had anything to do with Lani’s death. Maybe Doug really was just worried about being caught with a substantial quantity of pot.

  I checked the time and hustled back to Pa’ia. After all the hassle I’d already endured over Farrah’s blessing ceremony I didn’t want to be late. I rushed into the Gadda to see if she was ready to go.

  “Hey, girl, wha’s up?” she said as if surprised to see me.

  “It’s nearly one. Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be this afternoon?”

  She cast her eyes toward the back room and sidled up close. “It’s rad you stopped by ‘cuz my man’s even taking a pass on driving me home. I’m gonna need a ride.”

  “So, Ono’s really not going to the ceremony? I thought he’d change his mind.”

  “Nope, he’s stayin’ here at the store. I’m down with that ‘cuz I think him being there could mess up what the kahu will be trying to do.”

  “What about the twins?”

  “Steve’s comin’ by in a few minutes to get ‘em. He said he’s gonna fix ‘em dinner and bring ‘em home later.”

  I puzzled over Steve not mentioning his part in helping Farrah with her kahu blessing but let it go. I often imagined myself the center of my friends’ universe. I regularly had my comeuppance when they got together for social or work-related events and left me completely out of the loop.

  “So, who all will be there?”

  “Pretty much just me and you. I think it’s better this way. Easy-peasy, with no keiki running around and no bad juju from my man wrecking the vibe.”

  Steve showed up a few minutes later and swept the kids up in a hail of promised treats and forbidden TV. Farrah seemed so intent on getting them out the door she failed to launch into her usual, but largely ignored, litany of approved foodstuffs and educational entertainment choices.

  When they’d left I said, “You know he’s going to let them eat sugary stuff.”

  “True. But I’m cool with that. Remember, like Maukani said, ‘Maui’s history is written in sugar.’”

  I smiled at her reference to our Hawaii State History teacher, Mr. Maukani. That line about our history being “written in sugar” used to crack us up. Our class had a comeback we’d all softly whisper so he couldn’t hear, “…and the haoles got the rotten teeth to prove it.” I always squirmed at the mention of haoles, since ethnically I was one. But when you’re island born and raised you get cut some slack even if you’ve got hazel eyes and light brown hair.

  “You ready?”

  She wiped a hand across her sweaty brow. “Gimme a minute to wash up. Like I tol’ you, the dude’s a babe.”

  Maybe Ono’s bad vibe wasn’t the only reason Farrah didn’t want him there.

  ***

  Ono and Farrah’s house in Haiku is truly a small patch of heaven on earth. A leafy drive leads to a small plantation-style house set back from the main road just far enough to make it safe for the kids to play in either the front or back yard with minimal adult supervision. When we were kids we played outside for hours on end with little or no parental oversight, but times have changed, even in rural Maui.

  The house is one-level, painted dark green with white trim. Its simple square footprint includes a living room, tiny dining area, kitchen and two bedrooms, with the master bedroom only a foot or two larger on each side than the other. There’s
only one bathroom. The twins share the second bedroom but, according to Ono, plans are already underway to expand the house and add a third bed and second bath.

  “That is, if I can get my loving wife to stop spending money like it grows on trees,” he’s said more than enough times that we all chime in and finish the sentence whenever it comes up.

  In true plantation house style, the house has a few wooden steps up to the front door and a nice wide porch, or lanai, to sit out on to watch the world go by. But in Farrah and Ono’s case, the world goes by behind the thick hedge and explosion of greenery between house and road so sitting on their front lanai is like being in Eden. Nothing but green, and only the sound of trade winds and the occasional bird to break the silence.

  “Guess he’s not here yet,” Farrah said as I parked in front of the house. The driveway was empty.

  “Not unless he walked from the airport.”

  “What if he got lost?”

  “Hard to do that with GPS. And besides, doesn’t he have your phone number?”

  She pulled out her phone and stared at it with a fervor she usually saves for summoning answers from her Ouija board.

  “It’s only just two-thirty now,” I said. “What time was his plane due in?”

  “I think around one-thirty.”

  “There are about a half-dozen flights from the mainland that come in around then. The rental car place is probably a madhouse.”

  Farrah seemed to accept my explanation, but she knew I knew what I was talking about. I worked airport security both on and off planes long enough to have learned the ebb and flow at OGG, the Kahului Airport. I didn’t last at that job but it had nothing to do with an inability to spot patterns in how things worked both on the ground and in the air. During peak arrival times it can take twice as long to retrieve your luggage and get a rental car compared to non-peak times. Trouble is, with Maui tourism on the upswing, there aren’t many non-peak times anymore.