“Jeremy’s running down the alibi on the stepdad and it still seems to be checking out, the B amp; B confirms they were there. I was thinking Lei and Jeremy could go interview some of Haunani’s contacts today while I try and get in with the DA to discuss the warrant for the Reynolds house. Nothing’s really popping right now but we’ve got plenty of leads.”
“Keep me posted,” Ohale said. “Dismissed.”
Lei stuck her head over the top of Jeremy and Stevens’s cubicle a little later.
“Hey, Jeremy,” she said. He looked up from his computer, serious, his eyes wary. She wondered why she put him so on edge. He didn’t seem to like her, and it was something to do with Stevens but she couldn’t figure out what.
“Hi. Come check out this list of addresses.”
Lei sat in Stevens’s cushy leather chair beside him.
“These are the people Stevens wants us to check out today,” he said. “All the people Haunani Pohakoa called or received calls from in the last month. We’re doing drop-bys for some of them and I called some. They’re expecting us.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at the printed list and the driver’s license photos printed next to the names and addresses. “Looks like kids, mostly.”
“Yeah,” he said. He seemed preoccupied. His short, square fingers flew over the keyboard.
“So, how come you got these nice chairs and we got those crappy old ones from the ’70s?” Lei teased.
“Detectives have a few perks,” he said, shutting down his computer.
“You’re pretty young. How’d you get the promotion?”
“My work on the Kolehole Park case,” he said. “I was able to track down the other homeless guy who beat the victim to death.”
“Nice. Any tips for me on making detective?”
He collected his jacket, gun, and badge.
“Nope,” he said. She followed him out, disappointed. He certainly wasn’t a talker.
She thought back to that morning, coming down the hall in her old kimono robe, looking for Stevens. The couch had been empty, the crocheted afghan neatly folded. Stevens had left a note under the coffee maker, which was already full of hot brew:
Had to get back early. Check in with me later.
He wrote with a bold hand, denting the little notebook. He’d drawn a smiley face underneath, and she found herself tearing off the slip of paper and folding it into a wedge she put in her pocket. The dog-eared card he’d given her had finally fallen apart.
She slipped her hand into her pocket now as she followed Jeremy for a long day of interviewing. The triangle shape of the folded note touching her fingers felt hard and reassuring.
She and Jeremy dropped in on six of Haunani’s contacts, all of whom had claimed not to have known who her “secret admirer” was, nor had any idea who might have had access to Rohypnol or wanted to harm her. A couple of them weren’t home and they left messages with relatives.
Far from the banter and teasing she had with Pono, Jeremy spoke only when necessary, answering her questions with monosyllables. Eventually she gave up, reading her Criminology text between the stops. She found the silence unexpectedly relaxing.
They met Stevens for lunch at Local Grindz, a popular cop restaurant. Lei started on her Japanese bento box lunch as Stevens and Jeremy hashed over the fruitless interviews.
“These kids are really upset over the girls’ murder. I think they’d tell us if they knew anything,” Jeremy concluded. His reserve was gone, she noticed. She stirred chicken katsu into the rice and added a little kim chee on top before deftly scooping it up with her chopsticks.
“What do you think about the interviews so far?” Stevens asked, turning to her.
“Nothing’s popping. Just a bunch of high school kids, and so far they’re broken up when we start talking about Haunani. We haven’t found anyone obvious she could have been getting drugs from.”
They cleared their trays back onto the counter, and Stevens draped his arm over Lei’s shoulders as they followed Jeremy out.
“My back hurts,” he whispered in her ear. “Got anything more comfy for tonight?” Jeremy turned back to them and frowned as he pushed the door open. Stevens dropped his arm when Lei elbowed him hard.
“Forget it,” she snapped. “You’re not getting in my bed.”
“Hey,” he said, trying to sound injured. “I just meant a futon or something.”
“I can work a phone if I need help. You guys are overreacting, seriously.”
Jeremy had moved ahead of them and was already unlocking the car. She hurried after him and they got in and pulled away.
There was no mistaking the icy silence as they drove to their next interview. Lei was equally quiet. Jeremy was jealous. How ridiculous, she thought. Like she and Stevens were anything but colleagues, maybe friends. What the hell was wrong with the guy?
Somehow they completed the rest of the interviews without speaking to each other.
Chapter 16
He sat in his truck across the street from the bar in the waning light of evening. He’d been tracking her patterns, and today she usually finished her patrol shift and went in to eat and change before class. Sure enough, her vehicle roared around the corner and into the alley. She got out, pulling a rubber band out of her hair as she walked briskly, carrying a duffel bag, to the alley entrance into the bar.
He put the truck in gear and pulled across, parking just in front of her vehicle. He checked once again that he had everything he needed, and then slipped into the unlocked back alley door.
Inside, the hallway was empty, dimly lit by a bare, apathetic bulb. The battered door of the women’s room was to his left. He heard splashing from inside. She’d taken her uniform off to change and was having a quick rinse at the sink. He imagined her as he’d seen her through the high louvered window on another day: washing her face, skin glowing pearl in the dim light, serviceable bra and panties only hinting at her unique treasures.
He put his ear against the door and heard rustling. She was getting clothes out of the duffel bag. He slid the wire through the crack of the door, catching the old fashioned latch and pushing it up and out of its metal loop. He gave the door a hard push and it swung wide.
She jerked upright, clutching a T-shirt against her breasts.
“Hey!” she said indignantly. He registered the swirl of loose hair, startled eyes, white cotton panties: then he shot her.
The prongs of the Taser flew out and smacked her in the chest. She crumpled to the ground, twitching.
He stepped inside, closing the door. He detached the prongs and retracted it. Moving quickly but with deliberation he cuffed her hands behind her back, stuffed a kerchief gag in her mouth. He took the syringe out of his pocket, uncapped it, and drove it into her hip. He dropped a pillowcase over her head, rolled her in the sheet he’d brought. He wrapped a long bungee cord around her a couple times to secure the sheet and pillowcase. He hefted her up, staggering a little, and checked outside the door: empty. Slipping down the hallway and out the back door of the bar, he opened the passenger door of his truck and threw her in. Her head bounced off the dashboard and she slid onto the floor as he folded her legs and shut the door.
He ran back into the restroom, let the water out of the sink, gathered her purse and uniform, and thrust them into the duffel bag. Then he hurried back to his truck. She was still, her head lying near his feet, her body an anonymous mummy. The prey, captured.
The heady power of it surged through his body, a high like no other. He couldn’t resist putting his foot on her. Gave her a little kick, just a sample of what was to come. She didn’t move. He threw the truck into gear and rolled out. Glancing back in the mirror at the red Mustang left in the alley, he smiled.
Chapter 17
Lei sat down at the rectangular table in her Criminology class. She put her soda cup beside her to save Mary’s place. Tonight’s lecture was on Criminal Rehabilitation and once again, she was behind on the reading. She opened her textbook, skimming the chapter.