Murder in Maui Read online

  After sucking in a deep breath, Seymour rang the doorbell. A moment later the door swung open and Akela greeted him with enthusiasm.

  “Makuakane!”

  “How’s my little girl?” He knelt and took her into his arms.

  “Great.”

  “Then that makes two of us.”

  Seymour looked up at Mele. She was clearly less than pleased to see him.

  He got to his feet. “Hi.”

  Mele pursed her lips. “Akela, your father and I need to talk, alone.”

  Akela sulked.

  “It’s all right,” Seymour told her, hating that she had to be caught in the middle of this. “I’ll see you a little later, I promise.”

  He watched her disappear up the stairs; then turned to Mele to face the music.

  “You really have to stop doing this,” she said.

  “Doing what?” As if he didn’t know.

  “It’s not fair to her—or me.”

  His nostrils grew. “And you call what you’re doing fair?”

  “Maybe you should have thought of that when you decided to be unfaithful.”

  “You’re right, but I can’t undo what’s already done.”

  She batted her lashes. “And neither can I.”

  Seymour refused to let this get out of hand. “I just came by to say I don’t want this to turn into a battle of lawyers, taking away money that at the very least could go to our daughter’s college fund.”

  He could tell this was an area where they shared the same sentiments.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I won’t contest the divorce. And you can have the house and whatever you want inside it. All I want is to be able to spend as much time as my schedule will allow with Akela. It doesn’t have to be official or anything, just your willingness to work with me.”

  Mele gave a slow nod and Seymour felt a breakthrough in the iceberg that had existed between them. It gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe there were other inroads to follow.

  * * *

  Gabe had just fed Sal while wondering about his run of misfortune, when the bell rang. Had the police decided he was guilty after all and come back to re-arrest him? Or maybe it was another reporter looking for a story?

  He opened the door and saw Brenda. She was smiling.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again,” he said, assuming that the entire scenario as played out by the media had scared her off.

  “Then you don’t know me very well.”

  Gabe grinned. “I guess not.”

  “I’d like that to change.”

  Since no one else was standing in line to be with him, he could hardly turn down the offer and invited her in.

  Sal came to check out the visitor.

  “Hey, boy.” She petted him generously and he ate it up, more at home with her than most.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  Brenda looked up. “Yes. I’ll have what you’re having.”

  He came back with two cocktails, passing one to her. “Do you want to ask me anything about what happened?”

  Her lashes fluttered. “No. I never believed you had it in you to kill people.”

  “Do you always trust your instincts?”

  “Not always.”

  Gabe wondered why she had chosen to this time. Would he have if the situation had been reversed?

  “I’m glad you came.”

  She licked her lips. “So am I.”

  They ended up in bed for the next hour or so and Gabe was able to push aside the circumstances that led up to him becoming a murder suspect. He had no idea how this might affect his career, but would not shy away from doing what he did best, even though a cloud continued to hover over him regarding the murder of Douglas Brennan and two other former colleagues.

  THIRTY

  On Thursday morning, Leila and Rachel went to Napili to interview Diane Treadwell. She was amongst the mourners at Douglas Brennan’s funeral and a single mother whose son died shortly after childbirth nine months ago due to alleged negligence on the part of internist, Elizabeth Racine, and Brennan as her medical advisor. Diane sued both parties and the Medical Association of Maui for the incident, with an undisclosed settlement reached out of court last month.

  Leila couldn’t even begin to imagine what the woman must have gone through after this tragedy. Had her grief turned homicidal?

  “Wonder what I’d do if some medical mishap turned what should have been one of the happiest times of my life into a nightmare?” Rachel echoed her thoughts.

  Leila cringed. “Let’s hope neither of us ever has to find out.”

  They walked up to the second story unit of the beachfront Pacific Heights apartment complex.

  Leila rang the bell and recalled her impromptu chat with the reporter last night. One could only hope the press was more of a help than hindrance in solving this case at the end of the day.

  The door was opened by a tall, thirty-something woman with curly brunette hair.

  “Diane Treadwell?” Leila met her eyes.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Detectives Kahana and Lancaster with the Maui Police Department. We’re investigating the recent deaths of Douglas Brennan and Elizabeth Racine.”

  “Oh.” Diane twisted her mouth.

  Rachel stepped forward. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

  She hesitated. “I guess not. Come in.”

  Leila saw a TV on and a living area that was in general disarray, as though the resident were preparing to move.

  “Thanks for your time,” she said.

  Diane blinked. “I don’t know how I can help you.”

  Leila gave her a straight look. “We understand you recently sued Dr. Brennan and Dr. Racine for your child’s death.”

  She reacted. “Yes, and it was settled.”

  “We learned about that. Unfortunately no amount of money in the world could bring back what you lost.”

  “You’re right, it can’t.”

  “Which is why we find it strange you attended Douglas Brennan’s funeral,” Rachel told her.

  Diane looked away and back with hard eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to stomp on the grave of the man who was half responsible for killing my son.”

  “Or maybe you went further than that.”

  “Are you suggesting I killed him?”

  “Did you?” Rachel’s mouth tightened. “And while we’re at it, did you also kill Elizabeth Racine as payback for her role in your son’s death?”

  “No, I didn’t kill either one of them!” Diane snapped. “But don’t think I never thought about it. I trusted Dr. Racine to do the right thing. And she put her trust in Dr. Brennan to give her the correct advice. The end result is that my baby died needlessly from hypoxic ischemic brain injury. For a time, I was consumed with giving them a dose of their own medicine. Can you really blame me?”

  “Killing the two of them wouldn’t bring your son back,” Leila said. “It would also be murder and you’d spend the rest of your life grieving in prison.”

  “I know.” Diane’s eyes watered. “I guess I went to Dr. Brennan’s funeral as my way of saying I forgave him. I realized I was filled with so much hatred and bitterness it was bringing me down and I couldn’t heal. This was a chance for me to try to put closure to a terrible time in my life.” She wiped away tears and looked out the window. “I’m still trying to come to terms with my anger, but I’m getting better every day.”

  Leila glanced at Rachel, sensing she was thinking about her own tragedy of losing someone dear to her unexpectedly.

  “Can someone vouch for your whereabouts when both victims were killed?” Leila gave her the dates and approximate times of the murders.

  “I’ve recently become engaged to a wonderful pediatrician. His name’s August Oroku. We’ve pretty much been inseparable lately, including the time you say Dr. Brennan and Dr. Racine lost their lives.”

  Leila made a mental note to check it out, but she had a feeling Diane
Treadwell was not their killer.

  * * *

  At three p.m., Officer Natalie Yuen was doing her normal patrol while counting down the hours till her shift ended. The driver ahead increased his speed when she approached, but was still within the speed limit. He was driving a late model Malibu. There was a dent on the back bumper.

  While this normally wouldn’t have aroused her curiosity in and of itself, instincts told Natalie something wasn’t right. Perhaps it was the way the driver kept checking his rearview mirror, as if having something to hide.

  Or that she was on the lookout for more than one lowlife wanted by the police.

  She ran a check on the license plate number and discovered it was a stolen vehicle.

  Natalie turned on her blue lights. The driver immediately picked up speed, putting distance between them. He clearly had no desire to pull over. She turned on her siren and radioed it in before engaging in a full pursuit.

  * * *

  Rachel sat at the bar working on her third or fourth martini. She’d lost count. Rachel was drunk or getting there, but didn’t give a damn. She felt like drowning her sorrows in alcohol. It was one way of coping with being alone and unhappy that actually worked for her, if only a temporary thing.

  Tomorrow she could go back to being a widow cop. For now, she’d just like to forget about chasing bad guys and remember how much had been lost in her life when Greg died.

  Rachel put the glass to her lips and squeezed her eyes shut while the alcohol burned its way down her throat.

  “I think you like getting wasted almost as much as I do,” someone said.

  Rachel opened her eyes and saw a young man dressed in Western attire standing over her. He was gazing at her lasciviously.

  “Beat it,” she told him in a voice unmistakable in its disinterest.

  “Not unless you let me buy you another one of those.”

  “I’d prefer to drink alone.”

  He grinned. “We could drink alone together at my place. What d’ya say?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I say leave me alone.”

  He laughed. “Now don’t be like that. You and I can have some real fun. I promise I’ll keep my pants on till you’re ready.”

  He put his hand on her knee and Rachel reacted as she had been taught at the Academy. Using quick reflexes, she grabbed the man’s hand and had it behind his back and him up against the bar in no time flat.

  “I’m a cop, asshole, and could arrest you right now for harassment and stupidity.” Rachel’s heartbeat intensified. “Now be a good little cowboy and go find someone else to work you charms on. Do we understand each other?” She twisted his arm more and heard him whimper. “Yeah, I thought so.”

  She shoved him away and he mumbled something under his breath and stumbled off.

  Finishing the rest of her drink, Rachel decided to quit while she was ahead. But she was in no condition to drive. The last thing she needed was to be pulled over by another cop for DUI.

  * * *

  Detective Fujimoto entered the interrogation room where the suspect sat. At twenty-one, Corey Quintana was already a career criminal, with motor vehicle theft the latest crime added to his rap sheet. Unfortunately for him, his troubles were only beginning.

  But first, Fujimoto hoped to squeeze as much information out of him as he could.

  “You’re in a boat load of trouble, Corey.” He sat down in front of him.

  Corey sneered. “I’m supposed to be scared?”

  “No, definitely not. You’re too damned stupid for that, which is your problem. I can tell you, though, where you’re headed, you ought to be scared. They’re gonna be fighting over each other to see who has you for lunch. Auto theft is a serious offense. So is resisting arrest and possession of stolen property. Oh, and did I forget to mention we also found drugs in the vehicle you stole? In the absence of anyone else in the car, this is all on you, Corey. When you add it all up, you’re looking at some serious time. In fact, you’ll be lucky if you ever see daylight again.”

  This had clearly gotten his attention.

  “What do you want?”

  Fujimoto smiled. “That’s more like it. We know you participated in some home burglaries, since we have your mug on a security camera. I want the names of everyone else involved and where they plan to strike next.”

  Corey rubbed his nose. “So what’s in it for me?”

  “Maybe we can drop some of the charges against you as a cooperating witness.”

  “I ain’t testifying against anybody.”

  “You won’t have to. Once we get them, we’ll have more than enough to put them away for a long time. Whereas you’ll get the chance to still be able to have a life before you’re too old to know what to do with it.” Fujimoto let him sit on that for a moment. “So do we have a deal?”

  Corey shifted his eyes. “Yeah, man. But I want somethin’ in writing.”

  “No problem.” Fujimoto slid a notepad at him. “Give me what I want and you’ll get your deal in writing. You have my word.”

  He watched as the suspect in his home burglary case was about to rat out his partners in crime, helping Fujimoto to break this case wide open. And Quintana was going down with the ship, whether he realized it or not.

  * * *

  Leila was slightly surprised to receive a call from Rachel, asking if she could pick her up at the bar. It was obvious to Leila her colleague had too much to drink, a problem that had apparently been escalating since the death of her husband.

  Leila credited Rachel for being smart enough not to get behind the wheel of her car while inebriated. Both had seen the devastating results of drinking and driving firsthand.

  Walking into the Puunene tavern, Leila spotted Rachel at the bar. A full glass of alcohol sat in front of her, but she made no effort to drink.

  “Hey,” Leila said.

  Rachel colored. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Leila smiled sympathetically. “Let’s get you home.”

  “What about my car?”

  “I’ll get someone to bring it.” She volunteered Seymour for the job, confident he wouldn’t ask questions for which he didn’t necessarily want the answers.

  Rachel stood on gimpy legs and Leila helped her out to the car.

  During the drive, Leila decided to pry. “So what’s going on with you?”

  Rachel ran a hand over her mouth. “I guess I let the talk we had with Diane Treadwell get to me a bit. Losing someone you love can be a real downer, especially when it didn’t have to happen.”

  “I know.” Leila thought about losing her father and grandfather, the two most important men in her life to date. But neither were the same as losing a husband or child. “Have you seen anyone?”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t always help.”

  “Maybe you should give someone else a try.”

  “Yeah, maybe I will.”

  Leila left it at that, but hoped Rachel was serious. She dreaded the thought of this impacting her career. They were already in the minority in the ranks and Leila didn’t want to see those numbers dwindle.

  Rachel lived in nearby Waikapu. Inside the Tuscan style home, Leila put Rachel straight to bed and she fell asleep quickly. She would likely have a hangover in the morning, but Leila had a feeling she’d gotten used to it.

  THIRTY-ONE

  The moment Leila stepped onto the lanai, she knew something was wrong. First there were shards of glass from a broken window. While the door was closed, there was evidence it had been damaged, as though forced open.

  Her house had been broken into. Perhaps the burglars were still inside?

  She heard a banging sound from within, indicating that was a likely possibility.

  Backing away slowly till behind some flowering bushes, Leila got out her cell phone and reported what she believed was a burglary in progress.

  “So it was your house they targeted,” Fujimoto said after muttering an expletive.


  Leila sensed he was not speaking in general terms. “Who are you talking about?”

  “We’ve arrested Corey Quintana, part of a trio of home burglary punks. The other two decided to go for it without him. We only knew the area they were planning to hit and are just minutes away.”

  Leila heard more noise, causing her to flinch. “Well, you’re not here right now and I’m afraid my house is being trashed. I’m not going to stand around and just let it happen.”

  “Now’s not the time to go it alone, Kahana,” he voiced succinctly. “Get out of there and let us do our job.”

  “Doesn’t seem like you’ve done it very well to this point!”

  “We know who they are and where they are now. We’ll get ‘em.”

  “Well, I suggest you hurry it up.” Leila disconnected and pushed speed dial for Seymour’s number. Earlier she had gone with him to drive Rachel’s car home before they said their goodbyes for the night.

  Or so she’d thought.

  “Missed me too, huh?”

  “Not in that way,” she told him honestly. “I’ve got a little problem I thought you might like to hear about—”

  * * *

  Leila removed the department-issued Glock 23 pistol from her side strap. She was prepared to use it if necessary, to at the very least keep the burglars from getting away.

  Fortunately, the Property Crimes and Robbery Unit had arrived to take the lead.

  “They still in there?” Fujimoto asked.

  Leila nodded. “Someone is.”

  “What type of treasures do you have?”

  “Everything I own.”

  “Good answer. We’ll try to save it all for you.”

  Leila sneered. “Yes, we will. I wouldn’t dream of leaving this task entirely up to you.”

  Fujimoto grinned. “Didn’t expect you would.”

  They stormed the house and arrested the suspects, neither of whom Leila believed were older than twenty-one, without incident. But not before they’d left the place looking like a war zone.