Rip Tides (18 page)

All of it rolled away and disappeared, leaving her in this intensely sensual moment, held in the arms of the man she loved.

He slid his hands into the opening of the bathrobe, removing it from her body, gently but confidently undressing her even as their hungry mouths never left each other. The slow-burning flame that never left them heated up and consumed every thought and feeling, distilling it to pure, exquisite sensation that fed more than their bodily hunger.

* * *

Stevens adjusted Lei’s head on his shoulder, pushing the thickets of her curling hair away from his face even as he felt the urge to bury his face in those nut-brown curls, inhaling the smell of her almond shampoo.

She was naked against him, every inch of her slender frame touching him, warming him deeper than mere flesh. The longer they were married, the more he realized he was never going to slake his thirst for her. He wondered if he’d ever be able to resist a look from her smoldering brown eyes, a look that told him she’d be climbing him later like a vine up a tree.

He didn’t think so. They’d be old and crabbed and he’d still be hers for the taking.

He smoothed the chaotic hair back off her brow, looking down at the fans of her closed eyelashes, his gaze traveling down her smooth, cool body wrapped around his, lying alongside him in that space where she fit so well.

He was glad to have this time. Alone together, in the stark shell of their new house, before the demands of the day began—beginning with their son waking up, which would happen in the next hour or so.

Dawn’s glow pushed the night back and washed out the stars as he made her his again. He needed every moment they had together, because they lived in the long shadow of death, and walked in it every day so others didn’t have to.

They showered in the rough enclosure in the bathroom, which at least had running water, even if it was cold. She laughed, teasing him with the slippery bar of soap he’d remembered to bring over.

“Could this water be any colder?”

“Only if it wasn’t Hawaii,” he said. “Do you like the new bedroom?”

“I like being with you, alone. Wherever we are,” she said, and put her mouth on that place she’d just soaped and rinsed.

They were getting dressed when they heard Kiet fussing over at Wayne’s house.

“Hang up those towels, will you? Let’s bring his crib over tonight. I want us all together,” Lei said. She hurried over to the cottage.

Stevens followed more slowly, making a mental list of all the work that still needed doing on the house. It seemed like such a never-ending project, but really they only needed the plasterers, the painting, and finish work done. It wasn’t worth setting anything more up inside. The plasterers were due in a couple of days and the end was in sight.

Stevens thought of all Lei hadn’t confronted him with last night. She’d only mentioned his drinking once, though she’d smelled it on him at the scene with the body. He knew and he’d recognized by the way she wrinkled her nose how she hated it.

He loved her for letting it go without further comment.

By the time he finished the tidying and hanging the bathroom door for their coming night in the new house, Lei was already dressed with her weapon and badge on, feeding Kiet in his high chair.

She looked up, a frown above her eyes. “I have to get going early. We’re close to breaking something on the Makoa Simmons case, I hope.”

“Anything I should know?” He poured himself some coffee and angled a glance at her.

“Yeah. Don’t engage with Eric Tadeo about this case. I know you’re sharing an office with him.”

“Don’t tell me anything, then,” Stevens said.

Wayne had slept in and he joined them. “What are you going to do about that dead woman wearing your mother’s clothes?” he asked Stevens.

“I’m not sure yet. I plan to offer support to Fujimoto, but he’s the main man on the case. I need to let him take the lead. I thought, though, if he was agreeable, I’d go do some pavement pounding and see who might have seen the woman, seen where those clothes came from.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Wayne tossed Keiki a piece of toast from his plate. “I know a lot of people from the program who lived on the street, and I have a meeting today. I’ll see if anyone knows a blonde, blue-eyed street woman.”

“I’ll see if I get time to go by and talk to the doc,” Lei said. “Now, bye to all my favorite men.” She started with a kiss on Kiet’s head, then Stevens, then her father. “I may not be home for dinner. Depends on what’s happening with the case.”

She skipped down the steps and got in her truck, Keiki watching sadly from the top step.

Stevens dressed in the bedroom, realizing his night with Lei had shucked off the last of his hangover and angst. In spite of his mom’s disappearance, he felt better than he had in days. As long as he and Lei had each other, they could survive anything.

Now he had to go and find his mother.
Dead or alive.
She was his weakness, and the best way to deal with weaknesses was to keep them close.

“Wayne.” He approached his father-in-law in the kitchen. “I’m sorry about the drinking the other day. Thanks for the water and aspirin. It won’t happen again.”

Wayne gave him a long look from uncompromising eyes. “See that it doesn’t.” His father-in-law took the baby down from his high chair. “You have people who need you.”

Chapter 18

L
ei drove down the morning-shadowed, winding road. She turned on the radio and called Dispatch. After identifying herself, she asked, “Did you get any calls about that blonde woman Ellen Stevens?”

“Sorry, Sergeant. Nothing tonight,” Dispatch said. “We have the BOLO and will alert you if she’s found.”

“Roger that.” Lei hung up the radio and pressed down on the gas. She wanted today to be the day she brought in Makoa’s murderer, and to do that she needed to stir the pot, see what came to a boil.

Getting a sudden idea, she phoned Pippa. The phone rang and rang, finally going to voice mail. Lei thought of the scene she’d left the girl with the night before: holding a positive pregnancy test, alone to tell her parents she was pregnant with a murdered man’s baby.

She wouldn’t have wanted to talk to Lei, either.

“Hi, Pippa. I hope it went okay talking to your parents last night. Listen, I have a huge favor to ask. I wouldn’t ask it if I didn’t think it might help flush out Makoa’s killer. Please call me back so I can talk with you about it.”

In her cubicle at Kahului Station, Lei scrolled through her departmental e-mail while stirring a mug of inky coffee and trying to dissolve the chunks of creamer. She’d finally made some progress when Pono slid into his squeaky office chair beside her.

“Glad that floater wasn’t your mother-in-law,” he said.

“Me too. I think that would have pushed Jared and Michael right over the edge. They’ve already had so much heartbreak from her. I hope she turns up today. Anyway, I want to bust this case open. I think we should bring Oulaki and Tadeo in. Along with the girls. Mix it up, see what we can get to pop.”

“I think heads are what’s going to pop if you throw those four in a room,” Pono said.

“Or we could stir up something interesting. You know as well as I do that this case needs a confession since there’s so little forensic evidence. Let’s start with Eli Tadeo, since he’s here. His phone records show short calls to Shayla’s number; from the length of the calls, it looks like she wasn’t taking them, and unfortunately I don’t see anything on his cell or hers on the day Makoa was killed. But then eventually there’s a number appearing on his bill that could be a burner. What if Shayla got smart and was communicating with him, but with a burner?”

“I’m not seeing Eli as the doer. When you meet him, you’ll understand. He might not be as squeaky-clean as Eric Tadeo, our recruiter, but it’s a stretch to imagine him having the sack to do Makoa the way it was done.”

“Indulge me,” Lei said. “I still like him as the jealous boyfriend with a revenge-profit-love motive.”

“It’s your hassle,” Pono replied. “Here’s his number. I’m getting more coffee.” He pushed the case file over to Lei.

Lei used the station phone to call Eli’s cell, knowing Maui Police Department would show up in his caller ID. Sure enough, no one answered.

“Mr. Tadeo, this is Sergeant Lei Texeira. Please call me back about an interview regarding a police matter. This is not a request. If you do not comply, we will issue a bench warrant for your arrest.” A bluff, but one she didn’t think he’d be willing to risk.

She hung up, pushed back her chair, did a few spins to discharge energy, and picked up the phone as it rang. “Sergeant Texeira.”

“This is Pippa, calling you back.” The young woman’s voice was hesitant. “You wanted to ask a favor?”

“Oh, Pippa. How did it go with your parents?”

“They didn’t know I was with Makoa at all. That’s been a tricky thing. So I had to tell them that and that I was pregnant. They’re pretty upset.”

“I’m sorry to have left you there, but it seemed like a private family matter.”

“It wouldn’t have helped to have you there, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I’m sorry you had to go through that, but hopefully they’ll come around. That kind of brings me to what I have to ask you. How do you feel about Bryan Oulaki?”

A long pause. Finally, “I like him. He’s been a good friend to me.”

“Do you think he might like you…more than a friend?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that.”

Lei could feel Pippa withdrawing, so she pushed ahead. “Never mind. But could you ask him to come over here? To Maui? Tell him you need his support right now.”

Another pause. “Do you suspect him?” Pippa’s voice shook.

“I can’t talk about that right now,” Lei temporized. “But I need to know if he would come if you asked him to, and when he’s here, I need to talk to him.”

Another long pause. “Okay. I’ll do it. If he had anything to do with Makoa’s death, I want him dealt with, no matter what,” Pippa said, an unfamiliar hardness in her tone. “I’ll let you know.”

The young woman hung up.

Lei lifted the phone away from her ear thoughtfully, then set it down. It would indeed be interesting to see if Oulaki got on a plane and came all the way to another island when Pippa called for him. Pono reappeared with another mug of coffee for her.

“Thanks, partner,” she said, clinking her mug to his. “Operation pot-stirring has commenced.”

He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated grimace. The phone rang, and Lei picked up.

“This is Eli Tadeo. I’m responding to a threatening phone message from Maui Police Department.”

“This is Sergeant Texeira.” Lei put the call on speakerphone so Pono could hear the conversation. “I simply informed you that returning my call was not optional. Thank you for complying. Please come into the station. We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding an important matter.”

“I talked to that big
moke
cop yesterday.” Eli’s voice was sullen. Pono frowned at the derogatory word.

“I know, and I thank you for the alibi you provided. However, we have some additional questions.” Lei set up a time for the young man to come in. She continued to arrange the rest of the day, including a meeting to brief the captain at the end.

“We have just enough time to run over to the morgue for a look at that floater Jane Doe from the canal,” she said. “Coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Pono took his jacket from the back of his chair.

They drove the few blocks between the station and the hospital, and Lei did some relaxation breathing as they got on the elevator for the short trip to the basement, where the morgue was located. She kept hoping it would get easier for her to visit the morgue, but it still took a lot of effort to manage the anxiety triggered by the smells alone.

“Hey now.” Dr. Gregory was wearing one of his bright yellow, smiley-face rubber aprons today. It was already smeared with dark stains. “Come on in. I guess you’re here about the blonde floater?”

“You guessed right. Did you find anything on her?”

“She had a state-issued ID card stuck with her food stamp card way down in her bra. Her name’s Adele Lassiter.” He popped the refrigerator door and pulled the shelf out. Adele was uncovered, and Lei winced internally at the sight of her body, empty as a waterlogged, crumpled sack. She had a farmer’s tan coloring the skin of her face, neck, and arms, and brown roots an inch or so long. The state of her exposed face and skin had not improved since Lei had seen it last. Her breasts hung like empty leather pouches on either side of her ribs.

“Cause of death is drowning. I sent a blood sample to the lab, but I anticipate that her blood alcohol was very high because her stomach contents consisted of mostly alcohol, mixed with a few Pringles.” He held up a glass vial and gave it a swirl.

“Did you find any trace on her body? Anything that ties her to Ellen besides the clothes?”

“That was probably the connection. Yesterday was food stamp day; I’m guessing Adele used up her food stamps, trading them for alcohol, because when I checked her card, it was empty. Then she must have traded some of the booze for Ellen’s clothes.” He held out a plastic bag holding the sodden garments. “For you. You can take them to your lab for some more processing, but I went over them looking for blood, hair, food stains, anything. I couldn’t find anything, but CSI this lab is not.” He handed the bag to Lei.

“Thanks.” Lei took the bag. “That’s too bad. We’ll have to coordinate with Fujimoto on this. It’s his case, really. But I’m guessing canvassing the homeless is on the agenda. Do you have one of those doctored-up photos?”

“Sure do.” Gregory picked up a remote and hit a button. The printer whirred, and a photo of their victim appeared. “I didn’t have a lot of time to do the Photoshop necessary to restore her appearance, but this should help with showing it around.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.” Lei smiled at Gregory.

“I try.”

“I don’t know about your apron, Doc,” Pono said. “I get that you’re being ironic, though.”

Gregory blinked his eyes owlishly behind his magnifiers. “Who’s being ironic? I’m just trying to cheer myself up around here.”

Lei called Fujimoto as they left the morgue. “I’ll have the clothes down at our lab for further processing,” she said.

“Whose case is this?” the other detective said, but his tone wasn’t as irritated as she knew she’d be if some other cop with a personal connection to a case got to the morgue ahead of her.

“I’m sorry. I had a few minutes and thought I’d swing by and check in with the doc,” Lei said. “I’ll submit the clothing to the lab under evidence seal.”

“Okay. Wait for me to call you next time,” Fujimoto said, and hung up.

“Guess I better let him work his case,” Lei said. “Anyway, we have to get back to the station because Tadeo’s coming in.”

“So what’s your plan with this?”

Lei grinned a toothy smile. “I plan to wing it and see what happens.”

* * *

Eli Tadeo was good-looking, of medium height and weight, with clean-cut mixed Hawaiian/Portuguese features that included dark hair and eyes. Lei hadn’t met Eric, his twin, but she’d seen pictures, and they wore their hair the same way, in a neat razor-cut, slightly longer on top. Eli had a small badge of a beard beneath his lower lip.

“Hi, Eli. Thanks so much for coming in.” Lei stepped forward to shake the young man’s hand, introduced Pono. “I need to apprise you of your rights and that this interview is being recorded.” She recited the Miranda warning.

Eli frowned. “I need a lawyer?”

“That’s your right,” Lei said, with a contemptuous twist to her mouth that conveyed only sissies called for lawyers.

The door of the interview room opened suddenly, and a handsome dark-haired man who looked exactly like Eli stepped into the room.

“Sergeant Eric Tadeo,” he said. He shook Lei’s hand, squeezing it too hard. “I work with your husband. We share an office.” He wore an immaculate uniform and was clean-shaven, the only difference in looks to his brother.

“I heard. That’s very nice.” Lei kept her voice cool and neutral. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing. Just here as informal support for my brother.”

“Well, that’s not necessary, Sergeant.” She didn’t have to call him “sir.” They shared the same rank. “Eli’s just being interviewed. Routine.”

“There’s nothing routine about it,” Tadeo growled, sitting beside his brother. Lei glanced between them. Their resemblance was remarkable when seated side-by-side. Lei didn’t think she’d be able to tell them apart if they were dressed the same and Eli didn’t have that soul patch.

“Sergeant, you may observe the interview through the window.” Lei indicated the mirrored glass portal nearby.

Eric turned to his brother. “Let me call a lawyer.”

“No need. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Eli folded his arms and stared defiantly at his twin.

Eric scowled but pushed back out through the door. Lei shifted in her chair, trying to reestablish a connection with the sullen man before her.

“Okay, then.” Pono, next to her, turned on the recording equipment and sat down beside her.

“Eli, tell us about your relationship with Shayla,” Lei said.

“What does that have to do with Makoa Simmons?” Eli asked angrily.

Lei just looked at him. He tapped his fingers, finally said, “I don’t know what you want me to say. Did I like Makoa Simmons stealing my girl? No. Did I want to get her back from that trumped-up prep-school poseur? You bet I did. Did I have anything to do with his death? Absolutely not.”

“Well, that’s nice, and now that we have your official statement out of the way, I’d like to ask you why you were calling Shayla when she’d already clearly told you she didn’t want to hear from you.”

“I thought she might change her mind. I knew he was seeing that blonde friend of hers, too. I figured she’d get sick of playing second fiddle. Shayla was never the type to do second fiddle very well.”

Lei held up a highlighted phone bill. “Phone calls to Shayla that she doesn’t pick up. Daily, sometimes three or four times a day. Then suddenly the calls stop, and this incoming number appears.” Lei pointed to the circled unknown number. “Who is this?”

“I don’t know.” Eli folded his arms. “I have an alibi for the time of the murder.”

“An alibi your brother gave you. Pono’s been following up with that. Pono, how’s the alibi holding up?”

“Actually, you two look so similar, especially when wearing your baseball league outfits, no one has been able to totally, positively identify if Eli or Eric was there,” Pono said. Eli’s color paled, but he lifted his chin defiantly.

“Well, I have an idea who this mysterious number is,” Lei said. “I think it’s Shayla. She got a burner phone and began to call you again. Look at the length of these calls.” Lei pointed out the highlighted minutes. “I think she was warming up to you again, Eli, and she asked you for a favor.”

Suddenly a tap came at the door and Torufu, the big Tongan Lei had worked with on the bomb squad, stuck his head in. “Excuse me. There’s a couple out in the foyer asking for you.”

“We’ll be right back.” Lei and Pono exited the room, closing the door carefully. Lei made sure it was locked behind them.

“Who is it?” Lei asked Torufu.

“Pretty blonde girl and a local guy,” he said, waggling the toothpick he liked to chew between his Chiclet-sized teeth.

“Wow,” Lei breathed to Pono. “The gang’s all here but Shayla. That sounds like Pippa and Oulaki.”

Sure enough, Pippa stood to greet them, beautiful as a beach Barbie in a pink sundress. Oulaki stood a little too close to her, glowering around the lobby of the station.

“Thanks so much for coming in,” Lei said with a huge smile. “What a hassle, Bryan. I’m sorry. Follow me. This is very exciting. I think we’re about to find out who killed Makoa.” Lei glanced back at them as if sure they’d be thrilled about this, but neither of them so much as nodded.

“I’m here because Pippa asked me to come,” Oulaki said.

“And we appreciate that,” Lei said. She slowed as they walked past the interview room where Eli Tadeo was stashed, and she saw Tadeo look up and make eye contact with Oulaki.

Good
.

She escorted the couple into another interview room. “We’re just waiting on one more person.”

“That had better be Shayla,” Pippa said.

“I just hope she shows,” Lei said, with a tiny doubting headshake. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

They sat. Pono turned on the recording equipment and stated names, time, purpose of interview, and the Miranda warning. Lei folded her hands and leaned forward. “Now, Bryan. We’ve got some interesting phone records to ask you about.” She took out the folder with the phone bills and removed his and Pippa’s. “See this? You called Pippa the night before Makoa was killed. Why?”

“We talk sometimes,” Oulaki said, eyes down as he addressed the table.