“But a gang would. There’s always someone ready to take revenge. Bloody hell, that could be any of them too. Joe was seen as an uncle to most of the gang members.”
Because of their close connections, Hawaiians often used familial names for individuals. Being called uncle or auntie by the younger generation was a sign of respect.
“So it could be any gang?” she asked.
He nodded. “I would say the USO might have put out the hit, but there’s a good chance it was left open to any of the gangs. And then you have to add in just normal folks. Joe did a lot of good in the community and someone might see it as a way to pay him back.”
This time of night in Honolulu was always so peaceful. Trade winds wound through the palm trees. She always enjoyed listening to the palms shift against one another. It was something that could be rarely heard during the busy days. But at night, she could sit on her lanai and listen to them.
“I talked to Del. He wants to keep this under wraps. He’s already talked to the commander at Tripler. We’re keeping this from everyone but Carino.”
“I can’t officially say that. It would be lying.”
He smiled. “Good to know you’re so honest, but don’t worry about it. You talked to the doctor, but you did not officially reveal anything. You are in the clear. Del said to go with the no comment and refer them to HPD and Tripler. You know Del would never put your career in jeopardy.”
She sighed and tried to fight the feelings flowing through her at the moment. Del wouldn’t turn on her like her husband had. He had reassured her of that when he hired her. She had come to trust the former Special Forces commander. He had always made sure to back up anything she said, and in that, she could trust him.
“He already talked to Carino about it. The press found out about the cold case, but that doesn’t mean we have to answer any questions about the current case. Del wants people to think it’s just a coincidence. He also talked to the mayor and governor.”
She rolled her eyes as she pulled her keys from her purse. “Sure, that will keep it under wraps. You don’t think it’s connected to the present case?”
“Not sure. Because so many people are genuinely pissed off about Joe Alana’s death, it could be revenge, but it could be keeping someone quiet. Either way, it’s going to make it difficult to work. There are people who are still not happy about TFH being an organization outside of the HPD jurisdiction.”
“I would think that after eighteen months, they would get over it.”
“You were married to a cop. You should know better. Although there are some people who were happy to hand over dealing with the feds to Del.”
“And yet, they blame him for taking over cases.”
Graeme shrugged. “Del doesn’t seem to be that bothered by it.”
She unlocked her car.
“I have to talk to the Kalanis tomorrow.”
She stopped and looked at him. No matter who the cop was, talking to the loved ones of the victim was always painful—even thirty years later.
“I can go with you.”
He shook his head. “Adam has already offered, and Del wants you to take tomorrow off.”
She blinked. “What?”
“He wants you off work tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“You’ve worked almost twenty-four hours straight. But he said if there was an emergency, then come in. He wants to make sure you don’t wear yourself out. Quit looking for a punch in the gut, Eleanora.”
“Elle.”
“I don’t know. I like Eleanora. Like a princess.”
She shook her head. “I think you’re the one who needs the day off. Lack of sleep might just be going to your head.”
He cocked his head to look at her. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“You try to pretend you’re just normal, just like everyone else. You’re not.”
“What the bloody hell do you mean by that?”
He leaned closer, and she thought he was going to kiss her again. Her pulse accelerated in anticipation, as her mouth went dry. “You are not an ordinary woman, Eleanora.”
Everything seemed to stop as he continued to stare at her. All the sounds of the night faded away, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart pounding inside her chest.
He smiled, then stepped back. “Rest well.”
Elle blinked. It took a second for her brain to start working again, but when it did, she nodded. He waited for her to get into her car, then followed her out of the parking lot, and onto the H-1. She saw him behind her until they reached the exit for H-3. He blinked his lights right before he peeled off to make his way back to Laie where he lived.
With a sigh, she continued on her way. Right now she couldn’t think about him or the little kiss earlier that evening. She glanced at the time on her dashboard. Actually, that was yesterday.
Graeme had definitely been right. She had been up almost twenty-four hours. She needed a day off. She just hoped she could get sleep tonight.
* * *
Graeme bolted awake, his ears ringing from an explosion. Cordite still hung heavy in the air, as he gulped in huge breaths of air. He looked around the room and realized it was the phone that had woken him out of a nightmare he would rather forget. His ears were still buzzing from the explosion. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to erase the memories of the dream.
Then he realized his phone was still ringing. He glanced at the clock and saw it was just after five in the morning. Before he could reach for his mobile, Dumfries jumped onto the bed and started to lick his face. The scent of his dog’s breath wafted over him. Oh, fucking hell, something had crawled into his dog’s mouth and died. Graeme pushed him out of his face. His mobile continued ringing, so he grabbed it. It was his mother’s ring.
“Something wrong?”
“Does there have to be something wrong for me to call my baby boy?”
He’d trained and fought for his country, killed men, and now hunted down criminals. No matter what, Francie McGregor would still see him as her baby boy.
“No. It’s just early.”
“Oh, bother.” She paused, and he knew she was calculating the time between Scotland and Hawaii.
“No worries, as they say here, Ma. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just the normal thing. Oh, Sandra is pregnant again.”
He smiled. “Another niece or nephew to add to my list for Christmas this year, smashing.”
“Yes, yes, it’s all brilliant. Still, you should be shopping for your own children, Graeme. Are you seeing anyone?”
The one thing that could be said about his mother was that she was never subtle. Not with him or his father. She said being subtle with a McGregor man never worked out. And she wanted him married. For his mother, he was wasting away in a morass of loneliness because he wasn’t serious about anyone in particular. The moment he thought that, the image he had of Elle as a child appeared in his mind. He blinked it away. Things were complicated enough without thinking about things like that.
“I’m not even thirty.”
His mother sighed. “Your father had two children by the time he was thirty.”
“And seeing the way Abigail and Sinead turned out, do you think that was such a good idea?”
She snorted. “Stop that. You adore your sisters.”
“I’m still suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.”
“You were not a hostage.”
“It felt like it, being outnumbered by females in that household.”
She chuckled, and he could picture her. She was probably sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her, and the crossword puzzle sitting next to the cup on the table.
“When am I going to see your beautiful face?” she asked.
She tried to sound nonchalant about it, but he knew better. She wanted him married, but she would rather he be living in Scotland away from danger. She just didn’t understand his love of Hawaii, or his need to d
o the work he loved. There was no doubt about her support though. His mother was always there to lend an ear or cheer her children on. She just wished he would find his happiness closer to home.
“I’m thinking maybe sometime this summer.”
“That would be smashing.” He heard the smile in her voice, and it made him feel better.
“Are you keeping busy?”
“Of course I am. Working a cold case right now.”
“They give you an old case? Are you not important enough for new cases?”
The righteous indignation he heard from his mother made him smile. “No. This is important. Someone killed a thirteen-year-old girl almost thirty years ago. Left her by the side of the road. We picked up a new lead.”
“Oh, that is important. Poor girl.”
“I have to talk to her parents this morning.”
“I cannot even begin to think about the kind of pain they are going to go through again.”
“Yes. They’ve never forgotten. They put an ad in the paper on the anniversary of her death every year.”
“I would do the same for any of my babies. Of course, once I knew who it was, I would hunt down the bastard and kill him.”
He chuckled. “Now I know where I get my bloodthirsty nature from. How’s Da?”
“He’s fine. You know him. Always busy at the restaurant.”
His father ran one of the busiest pubs in Edinburgh. Graeme owed all of his cooking talent to his father. The women in their family were not good cooks, starting with his mother and ending with the youngest of his sisters. Boiling water was a stretch for any of them.
“I can almost taste his haggis.”
“He will make you some when you visit.”
He smiled. “I bet he will. I’ll talk to my boss about setting a date for a two-week vacation and plan a trip this summer. When I clear it with him, I’ll give you dates.”
“That’s my good boy. Give Dumfries a special treat from his grandmother, since he’s the only grandchild you have given me.”
“I will.”
“You be careful, Graeme.”
“I’ll be careful. Love you.”
“Love you, Graeme.”
After he hung up, he lay in bed smiling. He had spent most of his adult life out of his home country. He loved his family, loved the closeness he had with them, but he had been called to do other things. First, to serve his country, and now...he felt as if he belonged in Hawaii. From the moment he’d stepped off the plane, he had felt as if he had arrived home.
He sat up and stretched. He needed to get a run in, and then get into work. Carino was coming by TFH at ten, so he had plenty of time. Standing, he looked out the window, then grabbed a pair of boxer shorts. When he’d moved to Oahu, he had made sure that he had a view of the ocean. His cottage sat on Naupaka Street, which lead to Laie Point. He didn’t live right on the beach, as there were rocks along the shoreline, but he always fell asleep to the sound of waves. The beach was just a short walk away.
Dumfries was scratching at the back door, so Graeme let him out then went to relieve himself. He hit the coffee machine button and sat at the tiny kitchen table. He’d been up most of the night, and when he had fallen asleep, there had been weird dreams of that sweet kiss with Elle going a lot further than just being sweet.
Dumfries barked at the back door, and he opened it to let him in.
“You’re going to have to be on your own again today,” he said, as he pulled out the dry dog food, filling up Dumfries’ bowl. “Although, Mrs. Williams might let you come over if you promise not to dig up her garden again.”
Dumfries gave him a look of disgust before he applied himself to his breakfast. He’d found the wolfhound mix roaming the streets of Bagdad. He’d barked out a warning in time for Graeme and his platoon to avoid an ambush. He became their mascot, then he’d come home with Graeme. It’d cost a fortune, but he had gotten him home. All of them knew you didn’t leave one of your men behind, and they did everything they could to get him back to Scotland.
Graeme poured himself a cup of coffee then leaned against the counter. Dumfries was already licking the bottom of his bowl before he had more than one sip. Dumfries ran toward him, rising to his hind legs and planting a massive paw on each of his shoulders.
“Bloody hell, Dumfries, watch it,” Graeme said with a laugh. After one long lick, Dumfries pushed himself off Graeme. His coffee sloshed over the side of his mug.
“Dammit, you big lug,” he said, but Dumfries was too happy prancing around the kitchen.
“Dumfries, how about a good run this morning?”
He barked in happiness. A nice run on the beach, and then he would get into work. He had more than just a little work to do today.
* * *
After dropping Dumfries with his neighbor, Graeme made it into work earlier than expected. There had been no use going back to bed after the run and shower, so he thought he might get some work done reading up on the background of the other murders. When he turned into the office, he saw Carino sitting with Del and Adam.
“Hey, I thought the meeting was at ten.”
Carino turned to face him, his irritation etched in his expression. This did not bode well since the detective was usually pretty good at hiding his emotions. Graeme glanced at his boss and the second-in-command. They did not look any happier. In fact, they looked like they’d been sucking on a lemon for the last hour.
“We have an issue,” Carino said.
“What’s up?”
Del stood up. “The ME report is not the only report that’s missing.”
“What?”
Carino rubbed the back of his neck. “It seems like most of the evidence is missing, along with the detective’s report.”
“You mean all the information we need to work on the case, to find the owner of the gun, all that, it’s missing?”
“That sums it up,” Carino said.
“Well, bloody hell. This case gets worse by the hour.”
Chapter Eight
Adam and Graeme walked up the front path to the Kalani house. From what Graeme knew about the island, this was what they called plantation style. Dark green with white shutters, the modest house boasted a gorgeous garden.
“I vaguely remember the Kalanis being interviewed,” Adam said.
“You were a babe back then.”
Adam shook his head. “I looked up the case. That and the Honolulu Strangler are cases I went over and over when I was younger. Both of them had little evidence, and a lot of that is lost. But her parents have a webpage where they post things. Their interviews are posted there.”
Graeme nodded. He had watched them himself that morning. Before they reached the door, it opened. A tiny Asian woman stood on the stoop. Thirty years had been kind to Mrs. Kalani, but he could see the shadows beneath her eyes. With the case back out in the public, it would definitely cause some strain.
“Aloha,” she said. “I’m so happy you could make the trip out here.”
“No worries,” Adam said. He pulled out his badge and showed it to her. “I’m Lt. Adam Lee, and this is Graeme McGregor. He’s handling your daughter’s case.”
She nodded. “Nice to meet both of you. Call me Ana. Frederick is on the phone right now. Come on back in, and we can sit on the lanai.”
They followed her through the modest house filled with pictures of Jenny. It wasn’t in a morbid way, but it felt more like a celebration of a life cut short too soon.
“We’ve been getting hit with lots of phone calls today.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Graeme said.
“No worries. I’m just happy we have this house registered in my sister-in-law’s name. It was one way to avoid people hunting us up.”
She showed them out to the lanai. They took their seats just as her husband joined them.
“Fred Kalani,” he said, shaking both their hands. He sat down in the chair next to his wife.
“You want to talk about Jenny. So ask,”
Ana said.
Adam nodded, allowing Graeme to take the lead. “I’m sure you heard the reports.”
“Yes, but are they correct?” Ana asked. “So many times they just throw junk out there that isn’t real. No research. We’ve learned not to get too excited when something hits the news.”
Graeme could not imagine what it was like. Having a family member die young was bad enough, but to have it played out in the press had to be even worse. Some news people were vultures, doing anything they could so they could get a reaction for a story.
“Yes, well, some of them.” Graeme wasn’t sure what the press was saying because he had steered clear of it. “Ballistics are a match. The bullet that killed Joe Alana came from the same gun that killed Jenny.”
“But you don’t have the gun,” Fred said.
“No. But thanks to you registering Jenney’s DNA, we found some of it on the bullets from this morning. We’re trying to follow the trail from this incident back to Jenny’s murder. If we can trace who had the gun and when, we might be able to follow it back to her killer.”
Fred nodded. “Can’t be easy. It’s not like it was back then. Not a lot of forensics.”
“Is there anything you can remember from that time that you can tell us?” Adam asked. “Even the smallest bit of information.”
“Hm, not much more than would have been in the reports,” Ana said.
Neither of them said anything, and Ana stared. “You have the original case file, don’t you?”
“We haven’t been able to locate it,” Graeme said.
“Dammit,” Fred said.
“Watch your language,” Ana said.
“It was better than the words I used when I found out,” Graeme said.
Ana smiled.
“It is difficult to deal with,” Fred said. “We fought so hard to get air time for Jenny, but all they wanted to talk about was the Honolulu Strangler. The press covered her murder one day. One day!”
Hostile Desires Page 7
