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Authors: Melissa Schroeder

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

Hostile Desires (4 page)

BOOK: Hostile Desires
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He shook his head. “I’ll head over.”

“And I can call Dr. Keahi and set up a meeting with him.”

Both of them stood, but Del stopped them.

“Remember, no matter how much you trust the HPD, we need to keep a lid on this case. Don’t tell anyone you are working this case specifically.”

They both nodded and headed off in different directions. Elle just had to figure out how to keep the truth from the man who had known her almost her entire life.

McGregor was right. This was definitely a sucky Monday.

Chapter Four

I
n the past year
, Graeme had learned that once arrested, there were two types of junkies. There were the ones who would blather on, refusing to shut up. Unfortunately, Sam Katsu fell into the latter category. He’d been around the block, as the Americans liked to say. The first thing he had done, after trying to run away, was ask for a lawyer, then piss himself while in the squad car.

Since that moment, he had been silent. Part of it was self-preservation. The other part of it was the little bastard was crashing hard. Graeme could see it in his eyes. When he did talk, it made no sense whatsoever. Graeme studied him through the two-way mirror. He didn’t look as if he could withstand a strong trade wind. His leg hadn’t stopped moving since the moment Graeme laid eyes on him, and the wild look in his eyes, along with the dirty clothes and tangled hair, told him the kid had definitely been living on the streets—or close to it.

Rome stepped into the room and nodded at the officer who had brought Graeme in.

“Hey, Graeme. Is there a reason you’re here?”

“Just wanted to see him. This is the bloke who killed Joe?” Graeme asked, not moving his gaze from the suspect.

Rome sighed. “Yeah. And more than likely, high as a kite at the time. Or, he was hurting for a fix so bad he would have killed his own grandmother to get enough money to buy.”

“What is he? Sixteen?”

“Twenty-five.”

He looked at Rome to see if the detective was joking. His grim expression told Graeme that he wasn’t.

“You’re telling me he’s almost a decade older than he looks?”

Rome nodded. “With a long rap sheet. I’m pretty sure he used his size to fool people too. Petty theft, muggings, and felony drug possession. You name it, he did it to get his next fix. He’s definitely an ICE head. He didn’t care who he hurt as long as he got a fix.”

ICE was what locals called meth. It was just as bad on the islands as it was on the mainland.

“People liked Joe,” Graeme murmured.

Carino’s gaze sharpened. “You knew him?”

Graeme nodded. “Yeah. I live in Laie. I stopped by every now and then. Joe was one of the first locals to welcome me to the islands. Always smiling.”

“Yeah. He’s going to be missed.”

Graeme glanced back at the young man. “He looks
feart
of something.”

“I am going to assume that means afraid, and he should. We have to protect him.”

“Who from?”

“You name it. If he is in the general pop at Halawa, he’s going to have just about everyone in there after him. All the gangs, no matter their affiliation, are going to go after him.”

“Yeah, that’s true. The Wiki Mart was one place on the island anyone could shop at and be safe. And they had been until today.”

“It is odd that he escalated the violence. Before today, he would normally grab the occasional tourist’s purse, or do a smash and grab at a store. He’d never used a weapon of any kind.”

“Might have dried up a money source.”

Carino nodded. “But we won’t find out until his lawyer gets here.”

“Does he have a lawyer?”

“Public defender.”

Graeme watched as the young man slowed his movements. His leg was no longer banging against the table Suddenly, his eyes rolled back and he slid to the floor.

“Fuck,” Carino said, as he started running toward the door.

McGregor followed him, but stayed out of the way, waiting to see if they needed his help. Foam was bubbling up from the man’s mouth as he started to convulse.

Carino took hold of his head and tried to keep it still as Katsu shuddered against the floor. Nothing came out of his mouth but gurgling noises, and his eyes were still rolled back in his head.

“Stay with me, Sam. Come on,” Carino yelled.

No response. The choking sounds grew louder just as the EMTs came rushing in. As they started to work on Katsu, Carino backed off and walked over to Graeme.

“There are going to be a lot of people very happy this happened,” Carino said. “If he doesn’t survive, it’s going to save the DA a lot of headaches.”

“True,” Graeme said, as he watched what he thought would be fruitless efforts. And it would be better for almost everyone, except Katsu and Graeme. If he died, it was going to be damned hard to find that fucking gun.

This was turning into one bloody hell of a case.

E
lle had
the top down on her convertible as she sang along with Jake Johnson on the radio. This car had been the one thing she had splurged on when she moved to Hawaii. She had always had sensible sedans before, and after the meltdown of her career and marriage, she had been very cautious. She’d watched what she spent, and she was careful who she confided in. But when she had seen the two-year-old BMW convertible, she couldn’t resist. And why live in Hawaii if she couldn’t have a convertible?

As the sweet breeze blew through her hair, Elle turned onto Portlock Road. The neighborhood was quiet, even for the afternoon, but then it wasn’t a touristy area. Kids should have been out of school for the day, but she understood. She could walk to the beach, and she took advantage of that every time she got the chance.

Her mobile rang. Turning down the music, she glanced at the screen and felt her pulse speed up when she saw McGregor’s name. She drew in a breath and clicked on the speaker.

“Hey, how did the interrogation go?” Elle asked.

“Not well at all. He refused to answer anything until he talked to a lawyer which he means he knows his way around the system.”

“That’s definitely not good.”

“It gets worse,” Graeme said. “Katsu passed out and had to be taken to the hospital.”

“Good lord. Is he okay?”

“He crashed once, but they brought him back, and have him at Tripler. The police thought he would have more of a chance of being safe there, and they have a guard on the door.”

Rome would definitely do everything he could to keep him safe. But getting the info from him now was going to be even more difficult. “I’ll call as soon as I get a chance and talk to the doctor,” she said.

“Sounds good. I just pulled back into the parking lot. Do you want to meet up and discuss strategy?”

“Sorry. I’m not there.”

“Then where the bloody hell are you?”

She tightened her fingers on the steering wheel of her car, as she pulled into the driveway. While she knew her behavior toward him when they’d first met wasn’t cordial, the man had the manners of a goat.

“I know the original ME who did the autopsy on Jenny Kalani. Remember, I said I would call him? I’m meeting with him to see if he remembers the case, and to explain what might have happened to the report.”

“Oh. Okay.” He was quiet for a few moments, and she thought he might have hung up. “So, you want to meet later?”

“It might take me a couple hours here. Doc Keahi likes to ramble.”

“Okay. Let’s meet at McPherson’s.”

She blinked. She knew the place was a favorite with UK expats. She went often, but had never seen McGregor there. It made sense, and more people would place him in the rowdy pub before they would think she would spend time there.

“I can get there by six.”

He made a sound that was close to a grunt. “You got it.”

Then he hung up. With a shake of her head, she clicked off her mobile and slipped out of the car. The man really did have the most deplorable manners, but then, a person always knew where she stood with McGregor. She could handle that better than someone who hid his motives beneath slick smiles and pretty words. She’d had enough of that kind of man to last a lifetime.

She pushed away those thoughts, as she made her way to the door. Portlock Road was one of those areas of Hawaii people dream of living. Set in Hawaii Kai, it housed locals and celebrities alike, but for a price. The homes reached in the millions, and some had seemed to double overnight thanks to the insane Oahu real estate market in the last year.

Doc Keahi started off as a pineapple picker’s kid, but a stint in the service along with a sharp mind got him through medical school. After leaving HPD, he had become a legend in the forensics field. His testimony had put more than one killer away in high profile cases, and several of his books had been optioned for movies. Her time with the Doc had started before she had even attended school.

She stopped to admire the gardens and the pretty little koi pond. The fish flitted back and forth, enjoying the warm water. She needed to think about getting a fish. She loved pets, but her hours made it difficult. She didn’t want to adopt a dog or cat and then never be there. It would not be fair to the animal.

The front door flew open, pulling her attention away from the fish. On the stoop stood Doc Keahi.

“Dr. Elle Middleton,” he said, a wide smile creasing his face. “What a pleasure.”

He looked as he always did. His skin was golden brown from his heritage and his time in the sun. Bright brown eyes, rimmed with gold, sparkled from behind horn-rimmed glasses. He might be in his seventies, but there was no mistaking whether he was sharp as ever. His gaze rarely missed anything.

Now that he was semi-retired, he seemed to spend at least three days a week at the beach. Of course, there was always the stunning pool, and she knew he swam almost every day. He regularly prescribed her the same activity. He was wearing a pair of board shorts that had seen better days, and a red clay shirt that said older than dirt.

“Hullo, Doc. How are you doing?” she asked, as she walked toward him.

“Well, although they say I need to use my cane more often. My ortho doc told me I shouldn’t be surfing.”

“Oh, God, you went surfing again? Mum will have my head if you get hurt.”

He gave her one of his trademarked hugs and let her go. His smile faded. “You are not getting enough sleep, Elle.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been pulling double duty. They’re a little low on manpower at the moment at HPD.”

“I heard. Come in. I’ve made us some proper tea, as your mother taught me to make it, and we can have us a good chat.”

The moment she stepped into the foyer, memories washed over her. When she had arrived over four years earlier, she had stayed with Doc. He had welcomed her, just having lost his partner of over thirty years. They had helped each other through a lot of the pain they had been going through, and he had given her a new life. He had shown her his Hawaii, the one only
Kamaaina
see. She had fallen in love with the island, the people, and the culture. Now she could not even fathom living anywhere else.

“So, you want to talk to me about Jenny Kalani?”

“Yes. I’m working on an article about the Honolulu Strangler case. After working on the Goddess Killer case late last year, I started researching serial killers here in Hawaii, and found this one was the first one.”

He was carrying the tea into the living room, and he stopped and looked at her. “Eleanora Middleton, you’re not a very good liar.”

She fought the smile, but lost the battle. “Actually I am. Ask Mum. But you could always tell when I was lying, so I’m happy you were not around during my secondary school years.”

He shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about what lies you got away with.”

“I wasn’t that bad, but there were a few nights Mum thought I was studying.” She smiled. “Let’s just pretend you believe me today.”

He studied her for a moment, then he nodded. “Okay, but I expect a full accounting when this is all over.”

“You got it.”

“Let’s go out to the lanai, and we can talk all about poor Jenny and her murder.”

G
raeme took
a healthy swig of his Guinness, letting the yeasty brew calm his irritation. He was pretty sure high and mighty Doc wouldn’t know how to find the place. It was one of the better known places for expats to hang out, but he was also sure it wasn’t her kind of place. He glanced at the door for the third time in less than five minutes. Damn, the woman was never late for any meeting. In fact, there were times she beat everyone to the table, including Adam, who was the Boy Scout of the office.

“Bad day?” Will McPherson asked as he dried a glass.

The retired HPD cop hailed from Ireland, and you could still hear it in his voice. Like so many people before him, Will had come to Hawaii for a week and decided to stay forever. His shock of bright red hair was now threaded with grey, and his fair skin was definitely not ideal for the Hawaiian sun, but that did not seem to matter. After retirement, he’d opened his bar and grill, which was just off of the regular touristy area in Waikiki, in an area that didn’t call out to the tourists, or even many locals. Instead, it had become primarily a UK transplants and cops’ hangout.

“Just a long one.”

“And you look like you’re waiting for someone.”

“He is,” Elle said from behind him. He turned to face her. She looked...better. He didn’t know what it was about today, but she looked refreshed. And she was smiling. She hardly ever smiled when he was around.

“You had no problem finding the place?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I do know my way around Honolulu, as I have lived here longer than you have. Plus, they have this thing called GPS. Have you heard of it?”

He said nothing, because she was more relaxed than he had seen her in awhile. He knew that filling in with HPD was important to her, but it did seem to take its toll. Covering for them while still holding down regular shifts at TFH was starting to show.

“But the lass knows her way here, don’t you, Elle?” Will asked, sliding a glass of white wine on the bar toward the doctor. “I poured it the minute I saw you come through the door.”

Her smile turned into a grin. “You’re the best.”

“You look like you need something to eat.”

She nodded. “I just had the best biscuits this side of the Pacific and Atlantic by a Hawaiian who knows how to brew some proper tea, but would love my usual. I seemed to have skipped lunch again.”

Graeme looked back and forth between the two of them. “I take it that you are a regular.”

“Yep. For months now. We must have just missed each other.”

BOOK: Hostile Desires
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