suddenly too bright and her ears rang with every nuance of sound.
She must be going crazy.
Before she could change her mind she opened her phone, called the number on the card Tom had given her, and told him she was sick and couldn’t go.
“How about dinner then? Next couple days, whenever you feel better. No big deal, I’ll make one of my grandmother’s recipes, you can just walk down the block.”
“Okay,” Lei said. Easier to say yes than keep arguing with Stevens across the table from her, listening. “I’ll call you.”
She snapped the phone shut.
“I got interviews set up with the two rape victims. Feel up for a road trip? Maybe it would be good to get your mind off Mary by doing something for the investigation.”
“Absolutely,” Lei said. “Let me just do something about my hair.” No one was saying it yet, but Lei was sure whoever killed the Mohuli`i girls had also murdered her friend. She walked into the bathroom and whispered to her ghostly-pale, puffy face in the mirror.
“Interviewing rape victims. Great. Well, Mary, at least I’ll be doing something for you.”
Chapter 28
She and Stevens drove to Kona first, knocking on the door of young Jesika Vierra’s house. Her mother answered the door, brought them into the living room reluctantly. Jesika had little to add beside what was in the report.
The girl was pale, hair unkempt and eyes hollow, still traumatized by an attack she could hardly remember. The halting monotone of her story caused Lei’s head to swim. Battling the familiar vertigo, she’d muddled through the interview with Stevens taking the lead. The only new clue they came away with was Jesika’s impression that he was fastidious, for she’d found herself waking thoroughly clean and smelling of baby wipes.
“The smell makes me vomit now,” she said, chewing her thumbnail. It was down to a nub.
“Definitely the same M.O. as Mary Gomes,” Stevens said, starting up the SUV as they departed. “Even with the seawater they found traces of propylene glycol, the ingredient in baby wipes, on her.”
“Yeah,” Lei said. They drove in silence, headed for the other side of the island where Cassie Kealoha lived. Lei stared out the window at the sunshine on the ocean, remembering her trips to the beach with Mary. It was better to think of that than Mary’s cold dead skin under her hand.
Cassie’s family had a large tract of land on the Hamakua Coast, widely regarded as one of the most beautiful areas on the Big Island. They turned off the highway and wove their way into a lush valley ringed by jungled mountains. Tall pili grass waved in the breeze and a row of coconut trees, edging the driveway, led to the large plantation-style home.
Several trucks were parked on the grass and a huge pit bull heaved at his chain from a stake beside the porch. The dog’s venomous barking brought the father to the door.
“What you like?” The tall Hawaiian crossed tattooed arms over a barrel chest as he eyed the police SUV.
“I’m Detective Stevens and this is Officer Texeira,” Stevens said. “We’re investigating the assault on your daughter and we’re here to ask her some questions.”
The man glowered from the top step of the porch, and the dog continued barking.
“She no like talk about it,” he said. “She sick today.” The mother, equally physically imposing, came to the screen door.
“You folks nevah tell us nothing about what stay going on,” she yelled in pidgin over the dog’s snarling. “This the first time anybody even come talk to Cassie since when she went hospital.”
“I’m sorry no one has been in touch,” Stevens said. He took his card out, held it toward the father, but even that simple movement caused the pit bull to go into a frenzy, heaving its brindled body against the chain. Finally the man shushed it, gestured them to come up onto the porch. The mother held the screen door ajar and they went into the living room.
Several couches lined the walls, and an older couple was sitting on one of them, watching a ballgame. The father went over and turned off the TV, and the old man got up and shuffled out, leaving his elderly wife crocheting. She scarcely looked up at them. Cassie’s father gestured to the couches.
“Sit,” he said.
They sat.
“Thanks for talking to us,” Stevens said. “The reason no one’s contacted you is that there haven’t been any solid leads on your daughter’s attacker.”
A long moment passed as they digested this.
“I’m Lehua Kealoha, and this my husband, Kenny,” said Cassie’s mother finally.
“We looking for him ourselves,” Kenny said. He stood up and paced, waving his powerful arms. Tribal patterned tattoos wrapped around his shoulders and calves. “We know plenny people, and we going find the fucka who wrecked our baby girl.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting justice,” Stevens said. “But please, let the authorities deal with him if you get any leads.”
Kenny frowned and stabbed a finger at Lei.
“You related to the Texeiras up Kona side?”
“No. My family stay from Oahu.”
“What is one girl doing investigating a crime like this?” Lehua said, her lips pinched disapprovingly. Her hand brushed a large gold cross that hung in the graceful neckline of her tropical-print muumuu.
“My friend was attacked too,” Lei said. “I want to get the guy who did it as bad as you do.”
Lehua seemed to consider this, studying Lei. She finally got up.
“Okay then. I’ll go get her. Cassie stay lying down.”
The grandma continued to crochet, and Kenny said, “You like something for drink?”
They were sipping cans of guava juice when Lehua came back, Cassie in her wake. She was tall like her father, a river of thick, shining black hair grazing the backs of her thighs. Her mother prodded her, and she came around the side of the couch and sat facing them, her parents on either side. She held her head high with unconscious pride, but her eyes stayed on the floor.
“Hi, Cassie,” Stevens said, and introduced himself and Lei. Cassie glanced at them briefly, a flick of diamond- dark eyes. Lei put her elbows on her knees as she leaned toward the girl.
“Cassie, I know this has been a terrible thing. It’s going to take awhile to get back to normal, and if you want to talk to someone, counseling can be helpful. I know from experience.”
Lei felt Stevens go still beside her, but she knew she needed to make some kind of connection with Cassie. The girl glanced at her again, a little longer this time.
“We read the report about the attack. Is there anything you’ve remembered since then that might help us find who did it?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Speak up, girl,” her father rumbled. “These folks stay trying fo’ help you.”
“I told them everything.” Cassie looked up, pushed her hair behind her ears. “At the hospital.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kealoha, this might be easier for Cassie if you left the room,” Lei said gently. The parents looked at each other for a long moment, and then Kenny got up and touched the grandma on the shoulder.
“Tutu, come.” The two of them left, but Lehua put her arm around her daughter. She wasn’t going anywhere. Lei went on.
“It’s hard to think about, I know. But if there’s anything more you can remember, it’s important. I’m wondering if you might remember anything about being ‘posed and photographed.’”
“It was just… like a dream. He moved me around like a doll, and I saw flashes of light and heard clicking. When I was awake I thought it might be that he took pictures of me. It was like when you kinda remember something, but aren’t sure.”
“Anything else?”
