Paradise Crime Mysteries

by Toby Neal

  The thought was so satisfying he smiled, almost forgetting how terrified he had been of her—but not quite.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lei and Keiki pounded along Hilo Bay, past the hotels, under the massive banyans that buckled the sidewalk with their roots. It felt good to really stretch herself physically after the tension of the last few days, and she and the dog pushed their limits until Lei felt the knots inside loosening. By then they were at the park, jogging along the levee.

  Weathered old fishermen dotted the canal with their bamboo poles, fishing for pan-fryer papio (jack) and ama`ama (mullet). Lei went into the center of the park under a big kamani tree and put her foot up on a cement bench, stretching. Keiki flopped in the damp grass.

  Her cell rang and she dug it out of the nylon jacket pocket she wore to conceal her gun. It was Lono, the detective working Mary’s case.

  “The hair your stalker sent wasn’t a match to Mary.”

  “Good,” Lei said, still a little out of breath. “Do you have any leads?”

  “We interviewed the bar guy. Just like you said, she ordered her usual beer and grilled cheese sandwich, went back to the bathroom to change and freshen up, and never came back. That had happened one other time when she got an emergency call, so the bartender didn’t think much of it.”

  “What about the boyfriend?” Lei said, feeling guilty. Poor Roland. He’d seemed so distraught—but when a woman goes missing, it’s usually her boyfriend or husband, she reminded herself.

  “We’ve been looking at him but so far nothing there. He was at work during the time frame when she disappeared. We’ve also been looking at people she busted, like that. She wasn’t working on anything interesting.”

  “Thanks,” Lei said. “From all regular officers, everywhere.”

  “Well, you know. Nothing specific, nothing too intense,” he said. “Anyway I’ll keep you posted. We’re searching her apartment tomorrow.”

  Lei clicked the phone shut, shocked that another police officer could just disappear in broad daylight and no one had a clue what might have happened. She scanned the park, her hand on the butt of her gun.

  The exercise high vanished. Mary would have told her if she knew she was being stalked. Whose hair could it be? And how did he get the underwear? Thoughts whirled through her mind. She snapped Keiki’s leash and the dog lunged to her feet, tongue lolling. Though it was still early, volcanic emissions from Kilauea Volcano that the locals called “vog” already blanketed the Bay. She turned back toward home and picked up her pace again, still puzzling over the situation.

  “Hey,” she heard. She turned her head. Tom Watanabe pulled alongside her, running easily, his Nike net shirt streaked with sweat.

  “Hey yourself,” she said, not slowing. Keiki flicked him a glance but kept up the pace. “I’ve never seen you run down here.”

  “Got an inspection, needed to get my run in early.” He wasn’t out of breath at all. They jogged along side by side.

  “Any more weird notes?” he asked.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can’t discuss it. Have you seen anybody around my house?”

  “No, and I’ve been keeping an eye out.”

  I bet you have, she thought cynically. Suddenly it occurred to her that the stalker could have been watching her from outside and seen her underwear that way. She relied on her chain-link fence for security in the back yard, and the plumeria tree blocked her window, so she didn’t always close her curtains. Someone might have been able to spy on her from a distance...including Tom.

  “Well,” he said. “You’re in shape.”

  “I guess.” He sure had a way with words.

  “I was thinking...maybe we could go out sometime,” he said.

  This was an interesting twist. Lei slowed down, stopped. She bent over, touching her toes, buying time.

  “Sounds fun,” she said, with forced cheerfulness. He was attractive, and she didn’t want to keep being paranoid. On the other hand, he was the easiest candidate to be the stalker. Take a chance, you might get him to reveal something. “What did you have in mind?”

  “How about a run in the park and lunch at the Volcano House?” She looked at his face for the first time. He seemed nervous, and sweat popped out on his forehead. He swiped it away with his forearm.

  “I’d like that,” Lei said.

  “How about Saturday?”

  “Sure.”

  He nodded, smiling for the first time, a flash of white teeth. Damn, he’s good looking, she thought. But this was just a fishing expedition. Stevens’ skeptical look flashed into her mind—he wasn’t going to like the idea.

  “I’ll pick you up at 9:30 or so,” he said. “I’ll drive. I’ve got room in my truck for your dog, if you want to bring her.”

  “Okay.” More like, hell yes she was bringing Keiki.

  He turned off at his house with a wave. “See you Saturday.”

  Later, she was on patrol with Pono when her cell rang. She dug it out of her pocket while steering the Crown Vic with her left hand.

  “Hi, Stevens.”

  “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t around when you woke up, I had to get going early this morning. The futon was a big improvement and my back thanks you.”

  “Least I could do. What’s up?”

  “I’m meeting with the lab techs who’ve been working on the crime scene trash. Can you come back to the station? After we find out the results we’ll be planning strategy for the rest of the week.”

  “Sure.” She clicked her phone shut. It wasn’t the right time to tell him about her date with Tom Watanabe—especially with Pono sitting next to her, all ears.

  “What’s Loverboy up to?”

  “Shut up. We’re not like that.”

  “You wish you were,” Pono said, taking the lid off his drink. He liked to slurp them and crunch the ice. He was just getting started on a Big Gulp from the 7-11 and he had to hold it with both hands as she cranked a U-turn, hitting the lights as she headed back to the station.

  “Damn, girl,” he grumbled. “Didn’t know it was an emergency.”

  “I’m in no mood to be hassled.”

  “Whatever. You never answered my question.”

  “Stevens is meeting with the lab techs. Wants me to come down.”

  “Okay. So you didn’t tell me about the package. I had to hear it from Sorenson in the lab. He was all hot and bothered over your panties.”

  “That’s just great,” Lei said. “Real professional. I love the thought of Sorenson pawing over my underwear with his little blue light and telling everyone about it.”

  “Hey, chill out. He told me because I’m your partner. My point is, you should have told me.”

  “God, you’re so high maintenance.” She elbowed him. His drink sloshed into his lap.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed.

  She laughed. “We’re even now. So FYI, those weren’t my actual underwear. Sorenson can keep them for all I care. But, they are the same kind as mine, which means the stalker got a look at them somehow and was able to get another pair to creep me out with. I just realized this morning he might have seen me through my window. I have to go outside and look for vantage points.”

  A flush made its way up Pono’s brown neck. She glanced at him.

  “This is why I don’t want to talk about this with anybody. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Sorry,” Pono mumbled, dabbing at the spill with a paper napkin. “It sucks that this is happening. I’d like to catch this guy so bad.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  Lei hurried into the conference room. District Attorney Hiro Harada, Lieutenant Ohale, Jeremy, Stevens, and two new detectives assigned from Hilo District sat around the big conference table with three lab techs from Oahu and an open box of Krispy Kremes.

  One set of bad news followed the next. The trash in the abandoned cars only had prints that matched those of the vehicle owners, and t
he debris from the campsite had been through too much weather to yield much. Even the propane canister was frustrating, marked with smudges that were too degraded to make out. The moldering sleeping bag yielded some hairs that matched Haunani’s, which seemed to confirm the theory that she had been meeting her boyfriend there. There were other hairs, but they remained unknown.

  The canister Lei found in the trash at Kelly’s house had Reynolds’s prints on it. His story was that he had been using his propane stove for some beach barbequing, and when checked, the stove had sand in the folding legs. Nothing conclusive had been found at the Reynolds’ house but the picture of the girls on the computer.

  An elite team of technicians flown in from Oahu, a mountain of possible evidence, and nothing useful found. Lei felt a pang as she glanced over at Stevens, sitting with his hands folded on the table as the techs went over the reports, his head lowered. Jeremy held the same posture, his mouth tight.

  At least they’d finally got more manpower.

  When the reports were finished along with the thank-yous and better-luck-next-times, the techs departed for Hilo Airport leaving the group seated around the table. Lieutenant Ohale finally grabbed a Krispy Kreme and ate it in two bites, the savage way he tore the donut a little unsettling.

  Harada, small and dapper in Brooks Brothers, spoke up. “I need blood, fibers, something from the crime scene. The picture on this computer’s incriminating but defense will argue he doesn’t have the camera to take it, there’s no hard evidence, blah blah. I can’t believe those Oahu techs couldn’t make a connection for us with anything from his house or the campsite.”

  “So what do we know for sure?” Stevens got up and went to the white board, began listing key words. “The girls were raped by someone very careful. He drugged them and restrained them. He knew about forensic evidence because he cleaned up after himself to the point that we can’t find anything. He chose his site carefully. He drives a dark Toyota truck, though we don’t know that for sure. He may have cultivated a relationship with one of the girls, which shows planning and forethought.” Stevens looked around at the rest of them for more facts, but no one said anything. “So what are we thinking about Reynolds? And where do we get more evidence?”

  “You said he cultivated one of the girls,” Lieutenant Ohale said. “Haunani’s ‘sugar daddy’ drove a dark Toyota truck according to two witnesses. I think it could be Reynolds, and I say he cultivated both. You’ve all seen the pictures of Kelly.” Nods went around the room.

  “I like Reynolds for it,” Jeremy seconded. “I think we should search his business next. Maybe he’s got another porn stash somewhere, or a storage locker where he keeps his photography equipment.”

  Lei’s stomach wouldn’t let her take a donut though it growled with hunger; the talk had brought back memories of the girls. She rubbed her hands on her slacks under the table, feeling once again the slick wet strands of Haunani’s hair.

  Stevens nodded. “Let’s put in for another warrant, expand the search of Reynolds’ house to car and storage facility. Lei, I want you to do a database search for kidnap rapes with the same M.O. Maybe he’s just begun killing his victims. Jeremy, you and I are going to re-interview Haunani’s mother, if we can find her. She hasn’t been at that house the last couple times we went by. Henderson and Na`ole, you guys can come and re-canvass the neighborhood with us. Gotta shake something loose.”

  The meeting broke up. Lei approached Stevens, feeling the frisson of awareness between them like static.

  “I’m really worried about Mary. I think she might have been grabbed by this guy, or even be running away from Roland. He seemed pretty possessive.”

  “I know. I haven’t forgotten about her either. But she’s nothing like the girls—she’s older, an experienced cop, not easy pickings. I think if you find a pattern of kidnap rapes that matches the M.O. of the girls, we’ll know more about what kind of victims he chooses.”

  “Okay.” She turned away, and felt his touch on her shoulder like a brand.

  “Have a donut. You look like you need one.”

  She managed a smile, avoiding his eyes, and took the donut he handed her. She made herself choke it down as she headed for the computer lab, and dusted the sugar on her fingertips against her slacks. Somehow the tiny grittiness of it replaced that other feeling.

  It didn’t take her long on the computer to find his trail of destruction.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Several hours later Lei hit print, put all the papers into a folder and called Stevens. The team had just finished a re-canvass of Haunani’s neighborhood and upon hearing what she had to tell him, he sent the other detectives on to Kelly’s neighborhood. Lei met him and Jeremy in the small conference room.

  He’d brought her a fresh cup of inky coffee with chunks of melting powdered creamer in it and a red-striped swizzle stick. He set it down in front of her and leaned on an elbow. She wished he didn’t look so tasty; the pull toward him felt like a betrayal. She shouldn’t care about anything but the case. She pushed the folder over to him.

  “You look like you need it.” He pushed the coffee toward her with an index finger in exchange. Jeremy’s eyes narrowed on her and Lei frowned back at him as Stevens opened the folder so both of them could scan the contents.

  She blinked a few times, rubbed her eyes. Those old monitors weren’t exactly easy for reading. She stirred the swizzle stick until the white chunks disappeared. The coffee was surprisingly good, a warm smoky mouthful of delicious.

  “I can’t believe no one has put these rapes together before. They’re all listed as unsolved, different detectives on them, and no notes about them being connected.” She sucked the end of the swizzle stick.

  “Looks like we’re onto something here,” Stevens said, leafing through the printouts. “What did you use for search parameters?”

  “I looked for kidnap rapes with use of drugs. There were a lot on Oahu that could have been him experimenting, getting his method down. Some girls drugged at parties, waking up in the bushes with no idea what happened. But I excluded date rapes and party situations. Just kept the ones where they were kidnapped, drugged, and held captive.”

  Stevens spread the photos on the table. “So it starts on Oahu four years ago. Melanie Costa, age 22. Brunette, brown eyes, mixed race. Kidnapped off University of Hawaii campus, drugged and raped at a campsite, dumped back on campus after a day. Lisa Holtzman, blonde and blue-eyed, age 19. Hit on the head at Longs Drugs late at night, drugged and raped at a remote area out in the woods, dumped at the beach after two days. Keani Taong, black hair, brown eyes, age 20. Drugged at a party. Wakes up ‘somewhere in the jungle,’ is drugged and raped.” He looked up. “Doesn’t appear to be one physical type he’s into, except that these are all older than the Mohuli`i girls.”

  “There’s a lot about the Mohuli`i case that’s a little different. Like, they were bound with T-shirt strips and he used handcuffs on these others, if it is the same perpetrator,” Jeremy ventured. Lei chewed the swizzle stick, realized what she was doing, and set it down.

  “So then there are two here on the Big Island in the last few months,” Stevens went on. “Jesika Vierra, age 21, waitress in Kona. Tased on the way to her car. Wakes up at a remote campsite, drugged, raped. She reports he wore a black ski mask the one time she saw him. Found on the side of the road in Ocean View. He just tossed her there like a piece of trash.”

  Lei’s coffee burned her throat as she sipped it. Jeremy stared at the photos, his face colorless.

  “Cassie Kealoha, age 18, going to her job at the family’s restaurant. Tased, drugged, and raped somewhere in the fern forest, she thinks ‘outside of Hilo.’ She reports hazy memories of ‘being posed and photographed by a guy in a ski mask.’” He arranged the victim photos in chronological order. They stared at them, looking for patterns.

  “I’ll tell you one thing,” Stevens said, “this guy is a serious deviant who may kill in the future. What I’m not sold on is tha
t he did the Mohuli`i girls.”

  “Maybe he has girlfriends as well,” Lei said. “Maybe he also likes young girls. Sees them as weak, easily influenced and used. He may drug them when he’s with them, I don’t know. Anyway, he groomed Haunani, never intended to rape her—that’s a side interest. One day she brings her friend Kelly to the campsite they’ve been using, and he gets carried away. Goes into his other mode, and he knows they can identify him and kills them to get rid of the problem.”

  “Let me work another angle.” Stevens rolled his pen between his palms, his eyes on the ceiling. “I’m still liking Reynolds for it, and while he could be the rapist also, I’m betting he’s not.” He tipped his chair back reflectively. “So, he is already molesting Kelly. He becomes Haunani’s ‘sugar daddy’ and one day goes too far, getting both the girls together. He thinks they’ll finally blow the whistle and he drowns them.”

  “I think it was Reynolds,” Jeremy said. “He’s fitting the profile for both the rapes and the girls.”

  “The problem is, we’re not making it stick to Reynolds,” Lei said. “I think it’s got enough in common with the Campsite Rapist’s M.O. to be him.”

  “I can’t see Reynolds as the Campsite Rapist because of his size,” Stevens said, tipping his pen to her in acknowledgement of the moniker. “But, don’t forget the photography angle.”

  They looked at Cassie’s photo. Big dark eyes stared back at them from an oval face with creamy brown skin and full lips with a curl to them as if she were always smiling—a classically lovely Hawaiian girl.

  “They’re all beautiful,” Lei whispered. “Maybe that’s the link.”

  “Only Cassie reported the photography thing. That does link her to Reynolds, with his pictures of Kelly and that one of the girls together. Can you tell if they were missing any personal items? Often these sickos take trophies.”