by Toby Neal
“Interesting that you describe him as a ‘perfect gentleman,’ when Terence Chang is the heir apparent to the Chang crime family. How convenient that he happened along when he did, and took you in and showed you such a good time.” Freitan’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Jake felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl as Julie’s face drained of color and her eyes grew wide.
“What?”
“To be fair, Terence himself has never been charged with anything. Claims to be going straight. But his family is at the heart of anything unsavory happening on the Big Island. We certainly know whom to bring in for questioning about the bodies in the stream now,” Wong said.
“Bodies? In the stream?” Julie paled further.
Jake and Sophie hadn’t told the Weathersbys about the remains found in the roadside ditch, particularly the corpse that looked so much like Julie’s. Providing her any information might contaminate the police procedure of her case. But an idea was beginning to nibble at Jake’s mind.
He squeezed Sophie’s hand and whispered to her. “I’ve heard of the Chang crime family. Were you calling someone about that name when we heard it at the Weathersbys’ suite?”
Sophie nodded, her gaze still on the interview. “My friend Lei Texeira has had dealings with the Changs in the past. I called her to ask about him. She didn’t know anything except that Terence is the grandson of Healani Chang, the head of the family.”
“What if there is some kind of connection between Rayme, Webb, this ditch killer, and the crime family? Could they even be connected with Chernobiac and that black SUV we saw?”
Sophie finally looked away from the interview to meet his gaze squarely.
Jake hated how pale her full, beautiful mouth was, the ashen tone of her skin, the clammy coldness of her hand. But vibrancy flowed into her as their gazes held, and excitement chased the depression shadows from her eyes.
“I think you might be onto something, Jake. We already know what Julie has to say. Let’s go talk to Chernobiac. I don’t know how, exactly, but my intuition tells me he’s the connecting link.”
“Finally. Your gut and my gut are on the same page,” Jake said as they pushed their chairs back and stood.
Sophie gave a tiny smile as she passed him. “That’s an unpleasant visual.”
He bit his lip to hold in a laugh, and the tiny pain felt good. They were going to solve this case.
Chapter Forty-One
Sophie was glad they’d taken the dogs back to the motel after their interview at the hotel with the Weathersbys. The dogs had been exercised and fed, and would be fine until they got back. She felt like she had reentered her body as they quietly left the interview observation booth, exited the building, and got into the Jeep.
She didn’t know exactly what the connection was between the disparate-seeming elements of the investigation, but she felt that Chernobiac was a key as soon as Jake said it.
Jake turned on the Jeep and the energy of the hunt banished the dregs of her latest skirmish with depression. Gratitude filled her that he had reached out to her, had taken her hand. Now, as he gripped the wheel and pulled out onto the road, she reached over and squeezed the muscle of his arm. “I am glad you are no longer angry with me.”
“I don’t like it when you shut me out, Sophie.” Jake’s eyes were the color of iron as he gave her a quick glance. “But I’m determined to respect your signals from now on. When you pull away from me, I am going to let you do it.”
That should have relieved her. Instead, Sophie felt a wave of anxiety. She turned and stared out the window. “Space” was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For Jake to respect her, not crowd her and demand more than she was willing to give?
Jake guided the Jeep onto the main thoroughfare toward Volcanoes Park. As they moved out of Hilo’s congested traffic, he gripped and then released the steering wheel, clearing his throat. “I find I’m not really okay with ‘partners with benefits’ after all. I thought you were taking Alika’s call and talking to him last night. The whole thing made me kind of crazy. I needed to get my head straight, so I took the dogs for a run and thought about the situation.” He navigated a traffic snarl, gunning through a yellow light. “I don’t like secrets, and walls, and other people being between us. And the more we are together and the closer we become, the less I like it. So, I guess we better end the physical part of our relationship before my jealousy gets to be even more of a turn off.”
“I wasn’t talking to Alika last night.” Sophie concentrated on the one thing she could respond to clearly. Irrational anxiety thickened her voice and constricted her throat.
“I realized that when I came in to change and heard you were speaking in another language. Far as I know, that guy is just another American. But I realized that it wasn’t just the possibility that it was him. It was all the secrets and lies and other people that are in your life.”
“I haven’t lied to you. I just haven’t told you everything, and I cannot. And I do not foresee a time when I will be able to. There are forces at work, things in play that do not concern you.” Sophie’s lips felt stiff and she hated her stilted words.
“Everything about you concerns me, Sophie. The fact that you don’t understand that, and that it’s not the same for you . . . well, that’s what I’m talking about.” Jake’s voice was flat and harsh.
“Please don’t . . .” She couldn’t find words. Fear was choking her. “You matter to me, Jake. I very much enjoyed the things we did together. Physically. I don’t want that to end.” She twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Jake reached over and picked up her knotted hands. He kissed the back of her knuckles, and the heat of his tongue gave her a zing. “You won’t lose me. But we’re not having sex anymore until you’re willing to say I’m your guy. Stand up in front of others and say it. Choose me over Alika, and any other contenders that might be out there that I don’t know about—dudes who speak lots of languages and drive fancy cars. They’re out there. I can smell them.”
He didn’t know about the Ghost, could he? There was no way he knew that her former lover was still very much alive and in the background.
Sophie fumbled for words. “I have tried to be as honest with you as I can. I am not ready to be in a relationship, to declare myself as you have asked. The last time I did that, my lover was murdered.” That would be all that Jake knew. The truth was even worse. “I respect that you need more from me. I’m sorry that I can’t give it right now. I wish you were okay with ‘partners with benefits.’” She turned her hands to grasp his, and lifted his fingers to her lips for a soft kiss, sucking lightly on his knuckles, feeling him shudder. “Let me know if you change your mind. I may close my drapes and lock my door when the darkness falls over me, but I found your method of therapy most effective. I would welcome such an intervention again, whenever you might choose to implement it.”
Jake groaned. “Damn you, woman. You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“I cannot. The situation is what it is. Secrets will continue, and I am ambivalent about involvement. But I have been as honest as I can be, and I will continue to be. I respect you too much for anything else.”
“If I could bang my head on something right now, I would,” Jake muttered, and swore.
Sophie was too sad to savor any triumph in their little battle of trying to see who could affect the other more—right now, it seemed too much like they were both the losers. So she used the remaining time as they drove to check her Glock’s magazine and strap on her shoulder holster.
They reached the turn off for Ocean View Terrace, and turned up the windy, two-lane highway to Chernobiac’s abode. This time, they drove straight up to the driveway and parked in front of the house in the waning evening light.
The sensor light bloomed on, illuminating a scene much like the previous one when they had gone to search the house, but this time, Chernobiac’s big pickup truck was parked in the driveway,
blocking in his fancy street rod.
“I haven’t really thought of how we’re going to approach this guy,” Jake said, checking his weapon.
“We should just play it by ear, as Americans say,” Sophie replied.
“Now you’re singing my song.” Jake was really handsome when he smiled.
Chapter Forty-Two
“I don’t think Chernobiac is violent.” Sophie rammed her clip back into the weapon and stowed it in her harness. “But it is good to be prepared for anything. I’m surprised he hasn’t come out to see who is setting off the motion light.”
“Yes, that concerns me.” Jake peered up at the brightly lit house. There was still no movement from inside. Maybe the guy was glued to his computers. A bomb could go off and gamer dudes like that wouldn’t notice.
“Let’s do this.” Jake got out of the Jeep and slammed the door, wishing they both were wearing Kevlar and had a backup team. “Chernobiac!” Jake called, as they reached the garage. “It’s Jake and Sophie! Come out, we just want to talk.”
No answer.
Jake reached the back door and banged on it. “Chernobiac!”
Jake grasped the handle and turned. Not locked.
He glanced over at Sophie and met her wide eyes. They both drew their weapons. Jake cracked the door and bellowed in his best military voice, “Chernobiac!”
No answer.
Jake pushed the door wide, keeping covered behind the jamb. The back door opened into the brightly lit kitchen.
A pair of feet were visible in the hallway leading off of the kitchen.
Sophie swore from behind him, something long and involved in one of those languages that sounded like water running over stones.
Jake stepped cautiously into the kitchen, weapon ready. “Let’s check the house and then call it in.”
Jake avoided looking at the body for the moment as they split up outside the kitchen, checking each room. The place was empty and undisturbed, looking much as they’d seen it last except for Chernobiac’s plump body, face down, two bullet holes in his back and a blood pool spreading on the linoleum.
“This didn’t happen long ago.” Jake squatted beside the body.
Sophie called in the discovery directly to Freitan as Jake pressed two fingers to the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse. The skin was still warm, and deep inside the extra tissue, Jake felt a sluggish heartbeat.
“He’s still alive!” Jake pulled out his phone and called 911 even as Sophie changed her report to Freitan to include the new information. They waited for the first responders, and it wasn’t long before an ambulance bumped up the driveway.
Jake met the EMTs at the door. “Gunshot wound. Two in the back. Looks bad.”
The paramedics nodded and ran inside.
A few minutes later, Freitan and Wong pulled up. Freitan raked Jake with an irritable glance. “Care to tell us what brought you out here? We thought you were in the observation booth until we went to lock up after the interview and saw you were gone.”
“Just had a gut feeling that Chernobiac and the ditch killer are somehow connected,” Jake said.
“We thought we’d come out and talk to Chernobiac,” Sophie said. “But it looks like someone else got here first. Cypher might have been someone’s loose end, as they say.”
“He was someone’s something, that’s for sure.” Freitan jerked her head at Wong. “Let’s do a quick search. This house is now a crime scene. We might as well use you two since you were out here, poking around. Get some gloves on and let’s get to work.”
Jake and Sophie exchanged a glance. There was no getting away from being roped into helping search at this point, though neither of them expected to find anything—they had tossed the place not long ago, after all, and whoever had tied off the loose end that was Chernobiac had likely taken any evidence he’d had.
“If there was anything, it would be on Chernobiac’s computer.” Sophie headed into the bedroom and called out to them. “It’s gone.” She reemerged. “I don’t know what else might be found here.”
“We need something tying him to the bodies. To something! Or maybe his murder is unrelated,” Wong said, slamming shut a kitchen drawer in frustration.
“Unlikely.” Freitan lifted a piece of carpet to examine the floor below. “I think Chernobiac has something to do with the missing persons, and now we’ve found some of them in the ditch. Who put them there? That’s what we’ve got to find out.”
“The next people to interview should be Webb and Rayme,” Sophie said, as the four of them ransacked Chernobiac’s living room in a replay of a few days ago. “I think those two might know something about this.”
“What could they possibly know? They are barely functioning tweakers,” Wong said. “We talked to them. They seem like opportunistic bottom feeders, rolling tourists for drug money.”
Sophie glanced at Jake, and catching her cue, he groped to explain the idea that had been forming and had brought them out on this call.
“Here’s a scenario,” Jake said. “I just want us to try it on for size. So, here’s how it goes: Webb and Rayme identify marks. People who have resources and can be shaken down. They are in cahoots with someone who does the killing, after Webb and Rayme turn them loose in the ditch area. The killer does his thing—or, Rayme and Webb are the killers, and the story Julie Weathersby is telling is made up for some reason. This guy has some connection to the Changs.” Jake straightened, dangling a potato chip bag between his fingertips. “Stay with me for a minute. It just seems way too handy that Terence Chang happened along to rescue Julie Weathersby. Maybe he’s the killer and decided not to off her? I don’t know. But I do know that anytime you have a crime empire, you’ve got people who need to be gotten rid of. Dealers who rip you off. Suppliers who take bribes. Meth makers who sample the merch.” Jake dropped the empty bag into a nearby trash can and tipped his head back to stare at the swirly drywall markings on the ceiling and scratched his chin, considering. “Chernobiac either gets wind of this operation, or is a part of it. He shakes down the families of the missing for ransom or reward money. He deflects them with misinformation and keeps them busy and occupied. Meanwhile, the bodies are hidden in the ditch, buried in the jungle, wherever. I suspect you’re going to find a lot more in that area in the coming weeks.”
Jake looked around at the detectives and Sophie. Everyone had paused in the search and was staring right back. Even Freitan was paying attention. “Anyway, things start to come apart when pretty little Julie Weathersby gets away from our killer or is spared, whichever it is. For whatever reason, maybe because she’s a pretty face, or doesn’t fit the profile, or maybe will draw too much heat . . . crime family heir apparent Terence Chang rescues her. He comes up smelling like a rose, which could be part of his agenda.”
Freitan planted her fists on her hips. “That’s a pretty shaky theory. Where’s the motive? What would we need to make it all hang together?”
“Well, we already have a pile of possible trophies from the back of Chernobiac’s computer. Where did he get those? Who are they from? If we could match them to the bodies or the missing, we’d have a better idea of what his role was. But he had those items and the cash we saw. He posted that ad, ran that website, and was soliciting families of the missing. He had some part, I’m sure of it. And someone tried to kill him for it,” Jake said.
“I could find out what his role was if I had his computer,” Sophie said. “I tried to copy his hard drive when we were here last, but I didn’t have time to get the whole thing, and I haven’t had time to go through any of the data I’ve collected. Rather than take more time for this search, I’d like to go back to the station and do what I do best, which is dig for background information. Maybe I can make a connection between the missing and the physical descriptions from the bodies, get a preliminary guess at their identities by cross-checking dates on which people disappeared with the recovered bodies. And if I could identify the bodies, even approximately, I could look for connecti
ons between them and the Changs. There might even be something useful I can get off the partial information I have from Chernobiac’s hard drive.”
“Do it.” Freitan flicked a hand at Sophie. “We’ll bring Jake back. Get out of here, computer girl, and find us a thread that ties all this altogether.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Sophie sat down in the air-conditioned coolness of the Hilo PD’s computer room. She had yet to find anyone else working in the dilapidated old room when she was there, and she preferred it that way. After the emotional roller-coaster she’d been on, settling in front of her laptop was the best moment of the day so far.
Sophie plugged in her headphones, turned on her music, and cracked her knuckles. She plugged the square black write blocker external hard drive into her laptop’s port and imported the data she had been able to harvest from Chernobiac’s computer to her own for viewing. She searched through the contents, setting DAVID’s parameters to sift for any labeling terms that might help her detect useful information.
While Chernobiac’s info was being data mined, she ran a comparison between the database of the missing persons and the estimated date of death posted by the medical examiner on the bodies they’d recovered from the ditch. Those could be within days or even weeks of each other, since not all the missing were reported, but she might be able to match some of the missing information to the bodies, given the approximate height, weight and hair color of the remains.
Looking at the profiles, she was able to come up with three possible matches. They were certainly unrelated as far as type, with age, gender and ethnicity all differing. All of the possible dead were local Hilo residents, not pretty, rich young tourists like Julie.
Maybe Julie was the anomaly, not the “type.” Maybe the man with the knife was more of a straightforward assassin; but in Julie’s case, he had been preparing to “enjoy what he was about to do.”
