Considering how much possible evidence we could have, hardly anything is turning up-Gomes’ dump site, Uli`i Park, is coming up dry for trace, so is her body. So even though Reynolds isn’t fitting with the Gomes murder, and technically his alibi is holding up for the girls, with that photo he’s our best suspect.”
“I think we all agree these rapes were a warm-up for the Gomes murder,” Lono said. Lei noticed somewhere along the way Mary’s first name had been dropped-getting some distance from the vic, she thought with a pang. “What’s not really fitting for me are the Mohuli`i girls.”
“Nothing to do but get out there and do some police work,” Ohale said. Captain Brown stood, and everyone else did as well.
“Get to it, people. These women need justice.” Brown spun and marched out of the room, a tugboat setting the course.
“We’ll focus on Gomes. Keep us posted on any developments,” Lono said, following Captain Brown out.
“You got it.” Ohale sat back down, looked around at his team. “Okay. What’s next?”
“I got the warrant on Reynolds’ CPA office and he has a storage facility as well. Pretty interested to see what we turn up there.” Stevens wolfed down a malasada. “Damn, these are good. What are they, donut holes?”
“Filipino food. They do good with fried stuff but watch out for the month-old pickled eggs,” Harada said, gathering his papers into a leather portfolio. “Find me some physical evidence and I’m happy to sign Reynolds’ arrest warrant.”
“Let’s get to it,” Stevens said. “Jeremy and Lei, you’re with me and we’ll take the storage facility. Pono, you and the guys do the business office. Let’s bring it in, people.”
Lei capped the marker and set it in the tray, following Stevens’ broad shoulders with her eyes as he left the room.
Jeremy stood up and moved into her space, his eyes hard on her face.
“Don’t fuck with my partner.” His voice was a hiss.
“I’m not,” Lei stammered.
“He doesn’t need some bitch messing with his concentration. If something goes wrong with this investigation you’re going down for it.”
Before she could respond he was moving away with a swift athleticism she’d never really noticed before. Cheeks burning, she followed him out, still groping for a comeback.
Stevens waved the warrant at her above the cubicle wall.
“Step it up, Texeira, we got evidence to gather.”
Chapter 32
The storage container was hot and unventilated. She, Jeremy, and Stevens, particle masks and latex gloves on, spent hours in the stifling metal room sorting through boxes of old fishing gear, outdated college textbooks, clothes that should have gone to Goodwill, and some furniture in a heavy baroque style that looked too expensive to give away and too ugly to sell-probably inherited. After the first hour they didn’t say much, simply shaking, sorting, and reshuffling.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Lei asked at one point, after dislodging a nest of cockroaches from a box of Kelly’s old stuffed animals.
“Photography equipment. Bondage stuff. I don’t know, we’ll know it when we see it.” They didn’t see it.
Jeremy yanked the drawers out of an ornate desk against the far wall, one of the few areas where a clear pathway existed from the door of the unit. He dumped the contents of the drawers at Stevens’ feet. Postit notes, highlighter pens, boxes of paper clips, a pile of floppy disks, and a jangle of metal spilled onto the floor.
“Hey!” Stevens cried, as Jeremy tossed the drawer aside and reached for another one.
Lei looked up from her box of old cassette tapes as Stevens stooped and, using a pencil, hooked up the tangle of gleaming metal. He held it up to the light. Lei scrambled up and Jeremy came forward to look. Threaded onto a key ring were a traditional gold Hawaiian bangle bracelet, a necklace with a locket, and a delicate gold signet-type ring.
“That desk is a weird place to store jewelry.” Stevens used his gloved finger to part the items. “This bracelet says Kealoha. Isn’t that our rape vic Cassie’s last name?” He gently pried open the locket. Inside was a photo of a small blonde girl. Finally he poked the ring, and the Gothic letter H picked out in black enamel caught the light.
“That looks like it could be the ring Haunani’s grandmother gave her!” Lei exclaimed. The three of them looked up and Stevens’ teeth gleamed through smudges of grime as he grinned.
“I think we finally got Reynolds with this physical evidence.” With that Stevens stepped outside to call Harada.
Lei and Jeremy followed him out, eager for some fresh air, and waited in awkward silence in the shade of the building as Stevens made the call.
“Good news. Harada signed the arrest warrant. Jeremy, let’s go pick him up. Lei, I’ll send Pono over here to help you finish up. I’ll see you later tonight for surveillance.”
“No need for that. Got a dinner date and haven’t heard from the stalker in days,” Lei said, shaking out a box filled with yarn balls. They bounced across the concrete floor and she groaned.
“Who?” Even strapping his weapon back on in preparation to leave, she got the intensity of his full attention.
“Tom Watanabe. No big deal, I got out of the thing the other day, but I still need to check him out closer and I guess… he wants to check me out too.”
“I’ll see you later, about 8:00 p.m.,” he said, and strode out. Apparently he still thought she needed a babysitter.
Jeremy glared at her over his shoulder as he followed Stevens, and Lei flipped him off behind his back. Bastard got to be in on the Reynolds bust, and had the nerve to give her ‘stink-eye’ while she was stuck in this toaster oven of a storage unit.
Pono showed up and they spent the rest of the day in fruitless sweaty searching while the detectives arrested Reynolds and interviewed him. Lei would have given her right arm to be in on it.
Evening cast long shadows when she walked up onto Tom Watanabe’s porch. She’d taken a brief moment at home to strip off her filthy uniform, splash her face and wind her hair up and pin it with a chopstick, throw on a tank top and jeans. She still felt far from date-worthy-good thing she was just trying to get information out of him. Ambivalence rose up yet again but it was too late; she’d already reached his house and tapped on the door.
He opened it, an oven mitt on his hand.
“Hey,” she said, pointing at the mitt. “I like a man in proper gear.” He laughed, embarrassed, whipping it off.
“Come in,” he said. “I was just giving up on you.”
“Yeah, sorry I’m late. We had a lot going on today with work.”
“It’s okay. The shoyu chicken was just getting a little dry and I pulled it out of the oven.” She followed him through the house. Gleaming dark wood floors enhanced spare decor: a black leather couch, low enameled coffee table, and a flat-screen TV mounted above an obsidian Buddha. A framed obi, the wide traditional belt used to close kimono, was centered over the couch.
She pointed at it. “Your grandmother’s?”
“Yes. It’s over a hundred years old.”
Lei went over, folding her hands behind her back, leaning close. The wide fabric belt was intricately worked silk, tiny coiling dragons curling around the edge.
“Beautiful,” she said. “It must be nice to have this history.”
“Not always.” Tom led her into the remodeled kitchen, all chrome and grey granite. “Comes with a lot of expectations.” He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of white wine. “Something to drink?”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t we check out the orchids while the food cools down?” He handed her a glass of the chilled wine.
“Okay.” She followed him out the back door. The greenhouse was a sturdy little glass and wood structure,
