Murder in Maui Read online

  She instructed other CSI members to document the crime scene including identifying, collecting and processing any possible physical evidence.

  Following Seymour downstairs, Leila couldn’t help but wonder if anyone ever used the place other than for sex. If only her house were as tidy. Or maybe that would make it seem too artificial rather than a place to live.

  She noted the door key on a cabinet off the foyer. “I’m guessing one of the victims used this to get in. Probably left the door unlocked and that’s how the killer got in.”

  Seymour looked. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Still, you never know. If the killer had a key, he or she might have tossed it aside, no longer needing it once the deed was done.” He said to a nearby CSI, “Dust this key for prints.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Seymour did a quick scan of the area. “Would’ve helped if they’d had a first rate security system.”

  Leila blinked. “Maybe the association didn’t feel one was needed.”

  “A costly error in judgment, though something tells me the victims were here on their own time taking care of business, so to speak.”

  “Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.

  Seymour managed a weak smile.

  Leila approached Officer Tasia Gould. “Who called this in?”

  “A neighbor.” She lifted a notepad. “Barbara Holliman.”

  “We’ll need to speak with Ms. Holliman.”

  “And anyone else in the immediate area who was home when the call came in,” Seymour added. “Someone must have seen the shooter.”

  Tasia nodded. “That’s usually the case, even if they didn’t realize it at the time.”

  Leila looked up at Seymour, who was nearly a foot taller than her five-four with most of it muscle. “You think this is an isolated incident?”

  He shrugged. “Guess that will depend on why someone wanted the doctors dead while caught in the act.”

  Leila refused to speculate on motive beyond the obvious that the killer knew the doctors. Not till they had more to go on regarding the victims.

  And perpetrator.

  * * *

  Leila sat in the passenger seat as Seymour drove. Both were trapped in their own thoughts about the latest case to bring them out into the night. For her part, Leila never considered one investigation to be any less or more important than the next. When dealing with human beings and loss of life through violence, all cases deserved their best efforts.

  She glanced at Seymour’s profile. He was nice enough looking, if not the most handsome man she had seen. His salt and pepper hair was cut short and he’d recently grown a mustache, which Leila hadn’t decided if she liked. They had been partners for two years and she still didn’t know him very well. At times he could be moody, witty, or a million miles away.

  Seymour was currently separated from his wife. Leila suspected he wanted to get back together with her, but tried to pretend otherwise. She wasn’t sure what to tell him, having no experience in that department.

  At thirty-two, Leila had never been married. Born in Hawaii to conservative Polynesian parents who believed it was her duty to marry an established Polynesian man, Leila wasn’t opposed to marriage as much as being with someone she didn’t love. That included her last boyfriend, who had turned out to be a real jerk.

  Leila preferred to be on her own for now till someone came along who really made her want him.

  She looked again at her partner. “Why are you so quiet over there, Seymour?”

  “Just thinking about disappointing my daughter.” He paused. “I was supposed to pick her up for the night. Then duty called.”

  “Is it too late now?”

  “She’s probably asleep.”

  “She knows you’re a cop. I think she’ll understand.” Easy for her to say.

  “Yeah, I suppose.” Seymour sniffed. “I still hate letting her down.”

  “So find a way to make it up to her.”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  Leila’s mind returned to the grisly crime scene. They were on their way to notify next of kin before the press could. This was one of the hardest parts of the job, along with tracing the winding path that had culminated with a double murder.

  * * *

  The address they had for Larry Nagasaka was in nearby Kihei. It was a beachfront estate surrounded by swaying palm trees in a gated community. Seymour could only imagine what a place like this went for. Certainly way out of his league.

  Apparently the doctor wasn’t entirely at home here though, considering he’d chosen another location to have sex.

  The door was opened by an attractive petite Asian woman with long raven hair, almost as though she’d been expecting them.

  “Yes?”

  He identified them. “And you are...?”

  “Connie Nagasaka.”

  “Is Dr. Larry Nagasaka your—?”

  “Husband. Yes.” She frowned. “What is this about?”

  “Could we please come in?” Leila asked.

  Connie met her eyes and nodded. She led them into a large foyer. “What’s happened to Larry?”

  Seymour cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to inform you that your husband’s dead.”

  A hand flew to her mouth. “How?”

  It was always the initial reaction Seymour tried to gauge in determining if such news came as a total shock.

  “He was shot to death.”

  “Where?”

  “At a condo in Wailea.”

  Connie’s nostrils flared. “Was he with her?”

  “Who?”

  “His lover.”

  Seymour glanced at Leila, deferring to her.

  “You knew your husband was having an affair?”

  “He made no secret of it. Neither did she.”

  Leila glanced at her notes. “Two people were shot to death tonight. Your husband and a woman named Elizabeth Racine.”

  Connie started to cry. “I told Larry she wasn’t worth it. He never listened to me.”

  “Mind telling us how you spent your evening?”

  She favored her sharply. “At home. By myself. I’ve gotten used to it.”

  Seymour chewed on his lip. “Do you know anyone who would’ve wanted your husband dead?” He was still trying to decide if she belonged on that list.

  “Maybe Liz’s husband, Kenneth,” Connie answered matter-of-factly. “Few men can tolerate a cheating wife.”

  * * *

  Leila eyed Seymour after they reached the department issued dark sedan. “She wasn’t exactly a grieving widow.”

  “Not everyone takes the news the same.”

  “Especially when you have an adulterous husband who happens to be bringing in what has to be big bucks.”

  Seymour opened the door. “Think she did it?”

  Leila imagined Connie pumping bullets into the lovers. “Anything’s possible. Or maybe someone did the job for her.”

  “Like Kenneth Racine?”

  “Hey, stranger things have happened. Maybe he’ll save us all some trouble by fessing up.”

  She wasn’t holding her breath. From Leila’s experience, most homicidal spouses were anything but accommodating. They usually preferred to blame everyone else for their problems, including the victim.

  Or, in this case, victims.

  Seymour pulled into the parking lot at Maui General Hospital where Doctor Kenneth Racine was on duty as medical director of the Behavioral Health Unit.

  Leila hated hospitals, an emotion born from fear of having her tonsils removed as a child and added to by the death of her father ten years ago after spending the last two months of his life in a hospital bed.

  They were directed to the third floor, where a nurse pointed toward a forty-something, tall man with thick gray hair. He seemed agitated after snapping his cell phone shut.

  “Dr. Kenneth Racine?” Leila asked.

  “Yes?”

  She lifted her ID. “We’re detectives with the Maui County Polic
e Department. Could we have a word with you in private?”

  His brow furrowed. “Look, if this is about those parking tickets, I swear I’ll pay them. Things have just been a little crazy around here, you know?”

  “We’re not traffic cops,” Seymour said curtly. “This is a homicide matter—”

  Kenneth’s head snapped back. “My office is just over there...”

  They followed him to the office, where he left the door open.

  “You said homicide?” He looked at Seymour.

  “Afraid we have bad news. Your wife, Elizabeth, was murdered.”

  Kenneth’s eyes bulged. “That’s not possible! Liz is at a seminar in Honolulu.”

  Leila blinked, wishing that had been the case for his sake and hers. “We believe a woman found shot to death at a condo in Wailea tonight is in fact Elizabeth Racine.”

  He lifted his cell phone and pushed a button. “Yes, I need to speak to Elizabeth Racine. She’s a guest there.” A few moments passed. “What do you mean there’s no one registered there by that name?”

  Leila regarded Seymour. She wondered if Racine’s reaction was mainly for their benefit.

  He hung up, eyes downcast. “They said she never checked in, even though she had made a reservation.”

  Leila supposed it had been smart to cover her tracks. That was, until someone made certain they ran out for good.

  “Larry Nagasaka was also murdered at the condo,” she said.

  “Larry—” Kenneth gulped. “Are you telling me my wife and Larry were having an affair?”

  “Sure looks that way.”

  “That bloody bastard.”

  Leila didn’t disagree, but that was beside the point. “You had no idea your wife was seeing another man?”

  Kenneth sneered. “Isn’t the spouse always last to know?”

  “Not always,” said Seymour. “We need you to account for your whereabouts tonight.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You think I actually had something to do with this?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time a vindictive spouse offed his wife and lover.”

  Kenneth took a step backward. “Look, I loved my wife and would never have wanted her dead, no matter what. I’ve been working my ass off here since three o’clock trying to keep this unit together.”

  * * *

  “His story seems to hold up.” Seymour stood beside Leila in the elevator.

  “Even in a busy hospital, people can sometimes see what they want to,” she said.

  “True. Wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to believe Racine could’ve taken a break from his duties to get rid of a cheating wife and her lover.”

  Leila ran a hand through her hair. “Aren’t doctors supposed to be in the business of saving lives?”

  Seymour gave her a deadpan look. “That may well depend on whose life it is.”

  He drove on the Honoapiilani Highway to West Maui where Leila lived.

  “Do you want to get a drink?”

  Leila didn’t look his way. “Tempting, but I think I’ll call it a night, if that’s okay. It’s been a long day.”

  “You’re right, it has been, and that’s fine.”

  “Another time?” She faced him.

  “Yeah.” He turned to look at her and back to the road. A few minutes later Seymour dropped Leila off at home. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Count on it.” She gave a little smile and waved.

  Seymour drove off, thinking she was probably the most levelheaded cop he knew, including himself. And also the best looking, which may have been the problem. He loved her new hairstyle, a short bob with sloping edges. Of course he kept his compliments in check, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable in what was a good working relationship. Partnering up with Leila might not have been his first choice, but she’d earned his respect and taught him a few things along the way.

  Seymour took the Kahekili Highway to the place he was renting in central Maui. Unlike the resort areas on the west and south sides of Maui, there wasn’t much here to excite tourists. The fact that real people like him lived and worked in central Maui made it more to his liking, aside from living alone for the time being.

  He would’ve preferred going to the house he once shared with his wife, Mele. That was before he screwed up, got caught, and was kicked out four months ago. She had yet to file for divorce, but since there was virtually no real communication between them, he feared it was only a matter of time.

  When they did talk, it was mostly about their eight-year-old daughter, Akela. They had adopted her when she was less than a month old after learning that Mele was unable to have children. Akela was the one thing in his life Seymour was most proud of. He hated having to disappoint her. But he was a cop and had been for twenty of his forty-six years. Someday Akela would understand that people like him were needed to go after the bad guys in the world. Or at least within Hawaii. Until then, he would continue to try and balance the things most important to him.

  Seymour thought about the crime that left two doctors dead. There was nothing more to be done tonight other than hope they caught a break and made an arrest.

  As to what drove the killer to taking the two lives was pure conjecture at this point. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t up to some guesswork. Obviously the victims thought they had the perfect place for their affair.

  Well, they were dead wrong.

  They had ticked someone off. Or maybe one had been targeted and the other was just collateral damage.

  Either way, a killer was on the loose and that was always cause for concern for you never knew what one might do next after experiencing their first kill and finding it agreed with them.

  TWO

  The alarm clock went off at six a.m., giving Leila a start after being caught in a deep sleep. She managed to drag herself out of bed and into the bathroom to wash her face. Then she went downstairs to make coffee.

  Leila lived in a two bedroom, plantation style cottage in Lahaina. It was built in 1934 and once owned by her grandfather, Ekewaka Kahana, a former County of Maui police chief. Leila had lived there for the past five years, taking over ownership from her mother who lived on the Big Island and had been renting the place before deciding to sell. Little by little she had managed to renovate the house, which still had its original wood floors and wood frame windows.

  By six-fifteen, Leila was out taking her daily jog. It took only a few minutes to end up on Front Street, Lahaina’s main thoroughfare, where she could see the ocean and pass by quaint shops and historical attractions before the crowds began to gather.

  After showering, she headed off to work in her Subaru Impreza, admiring the West Maui Mountains and breathtaking glimpse of the coastline along the way.

  The Maui County Police Department was located in Wailuku, the county seat. Leila made her way to the second story conference room where the homicide squad met each morning to go over their cases, new leads, and lost opportunities. The cold-blooded murder of two doctors would surely be at the top of the agenda.

  Present was Lieutenant Paul Ortega, who was contemplating retirement now that his youngest daughter had gotten married, Detectives Trent Ferguson and Rachel Lancaster, and Detective Sergeant Blake Seymour.

  “I thought for a minute you’d decided to give up all this for something less taxing,” quipped Seymour.

  Leila sneered, noting she was fifteen minutes early. She regretted not going with him for a drink last night. If only he were single in the true sense of the word, instead of hoping the wife might take him back.

  “Wouldn’t want to make your life easier,” she retorted.

  He laughed. “Trust me when I say that wouldn’t happen.”

  She took that as a compliment, taking a seat next to him.

  Lt. Ortega gained their attention. “I’ll bring you up to snuff on the latest. First, whoever killed Doctors Elizabeth Racine and Larry Nagasaka is still at large, in spite of our best efforts to the contrary. The fact that both victims were m
arried, but not to each other, makes it very likely we could be looking at a love triangle murder mystery. The spouses would have us believe otherwise. But we all know alibis can never be accepted at face value. Nor should they.

  “Another possible angle is the murders could be work related. Racine, an internist, and Nagasaka, a hematologist, both belonged to the Medical Association of Maui—a group of medical practitioners on the island who banded together about ten years ago. Maybe someone handpicked these victims in particular. Or others could be targeted, too. Let’s not wait to find out.”

  “Ballistics will tell us the type of gun and bullets used,” Leila said, hoping this would lead to the perpetrator, though she knew they had to count on additional evidence to make the connection stick.

  Ferguson clasped large hands. “Chances are the gun was either stolen or bought on the street.”

  Rachel snorted. “Or it’s just as likely the perp bought the weapon legally.”

  “We know the killer pumped at least five to six bullets into the victims,” Seymour told them. “The autopsy results will confirm and should give us something to go on regarding the shooter and murder weapon.”

  Leila nodded. “The killer had easy access to the condo, suggesting they probably staked out the place and waited to catch the victims off guard before shooting them.”

  “But why not just go after the one targeted?” Rachel looked nonplussed. “Why take an innocent life? Unless both doctors were the intended victims from the start.”

  Ferguson lifted his chin. “Maybe the killer didn’t give a damn if someone else died who happened to be at the wrong place, wrong time. Most killers don’t have a conscience.”

  “But they were killed having sex.” Seymour sat up. “I doubt it was an accident. Our killer likely had every intention of executing both victims. The method and timing were choreographed. What it comes down to is this. Was this the ultimate price of infidelity? Or were they killed because they were doctors and belonged to the same professional organization?”

  Leila agreed that his points had merit. “Whether the killer went after one person or both, the result is the same: we’re left with two victims and more than one possibility as to why they were murdered. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”