Murder of the Hula Dancers

by R. Barri Flowers

  Megan smoothed a thin eyebrow and answered evenly: "After careful comparison of the full dental x-rays and data for Virginia Upton—which were supplied by her dentist, Charles Ellison—with the post-mortem dental x-rays and an examination of the charred decedent, I can confirm that it is in fact Virginia Upton."

  Ferguson glanced at Rachel. "And there's no way you could be mistaken?" he asked, just for the record, though he was confident she was able to make that determination as a forensic odontologist.

  "There is no mistaking who she is," Megan said, sounded offended as she frowned at him. "I reached my conclusion through everything from x-ray analyses to dental impressions to tooth root curvature and spacing to cranial measurements... Shall I go on, Detective?"

  He colored. "No, I get it."

  "We both get it," Rachel said. "The dead woman is Virginia Upton. Sadly, her daughter's gut instincts were right, assuming that's all it was."

  "Is that what the Maui PD pays you for," Patricia asked, "to make assumptions without having anything to back them up?"

  "I'm only giving her the benefit of the doubt for the time being," Rachel promised. "Now that we've identified the murder victim, the next step is to determine who wanted her dead, including a serial killer. If we find that Judy Upton knows more than she's saying or is otherwise involved with her mother's death, she'll be held accountable."

  Ferguson grinned. "And when she says it, she means it! Lancaster doesn't know any other way. She's like a pit bull when she latches on to something and I can guarantee she won't stop until the whole truth comes out."

  Patricia smiled. "I guess that's why you two are partners—you're so in sync."

  "Yeah, kind of like you and Doc Paglinawan," Ferguson said.

  Megan showed her teeth. "We are pretty much in tune most of the time—not counting racquetball, when all I want to do is kick her butt."

  "And vice versa," Patricia said with a chuckle.

  "Okay, we'll leave it at that," Ferguson said, wishing in a way that he and Rachel could hang out sometimes after work, if only because he enjoyed her company as a friend. But she had generally kept to herself ever since becoming a widow. When and if that changed, he would be happy to provide a shoulder she could lean on.

  In the meantime, they had the victim's name, which meant they were starting a whole new chapter in this homicide investigation as to where and to whom it might lead.

  * * *

  Virginia Upton was a fifty-eight-year-old vacation counselor in Lahaina when she was murdered. Apart from her daughter, Judy, she had no other relatives on the island and lived alone. As yet, there was no known connection between her and the victims of the Hula Killer. To Rachel, this was both troubling and perhaps a sign that her murder was unassociated with the hula dancer homicides.

  At least this was the working theory as Rachel looked through the one-way window at Dave Farentino, Virginia's boyfriend, who sat waiting patiently. The fifty-four-year-old contracts supervisor had come in voluntarily, which usually suggested they had nothing to hide, but at times was an effort to conceal one's crimes in plain view.

  "What do you think?" Seymour asked her.

  Keeping her options open, Rachel answered evasively: "Ask me after I've had a few words with him."

  "Go right ahead. If he decides to confess, we can end this right now and I can turn my attention back to the other case weighing on my mind."

  She nodded, feeling the heat, but knowing they both wanted justice for Virginia Upton no matter how long it took.

  "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Rachel said routinely, as she stepped inside the interrogation room.

  "You didn't," Farentino said. He was built like a pro football player and had receding blonde hair and intense blue eyes.

  "As you know, we're investigating the murder of your girlfriend, Virginia Upton."

  He ran a hand across his mouth. "Yeah, I'm still trying to process it."

  Rachel sat down across from him at the table and said sincerely, "I'm sorry for your loss."

  "Thanks, but I don't need your apology. I'll just have to find a way to deal with it on my own. All I want is for you to get the bastard who did this to her."

  "We intend to do just that." She paused, gazing at him thoughtfully. "How long had you and Virginia been dating?"

  "A few months."

  "What was your relationship like?"

  He frowned. "Look, if you're trying to pin this on me—"

  "I'm not," Rachel suggested. "It's just standard procedure to find out all we can about the victim and the people in her life while, at the same time, eliminating everyone we can as a suspect. I hope we can cross you off the list..."

  Farentino nodded and said: "We had a good relationship. We were both divorced and hopefully wiser from the experience."

  "Did you ever fight?"

  "If you mean punching and shoving, the answer is no. Sure, we had our disagreements from time to time just like any other couple, and it took us maybe five minutes before we were back on track again. I would never have wanted her dead, much less killed her."

  Rachel sat back. "Was Virginia involved with anyone else that you know of?"

  "You mean like an affair?" he asked.

  "Any type of romance."

  "No. I mean, she and her ex were still on friendly terms, but nothing was going on there. He'd moved on and so had she."

  "What type of relationship did Virginia have with her daughter, Judy?"

  Farentino stared at the question. "They pretty much got along, for the most part."

  "What about when they didn't get along?" she pressed perceptively. "What were the issues?"

  "Virginia didn't always approve of the men Judy dated."

  "Why was that?"

  "She thought Judy could do better. I suppose all parents feel that way. But Virginia understood that Judy was an adult and could see whoever she wanted, whether she liked it or not. And vice versa."

  Rachel leaned forward. "Are you saying Judy didn't like that her mother was dating you?"

  He squirmed in the chair. "She thought I was only interested in stringing her along until something better came my way."

  "And were you?"

  "No!" he responded emphatically. "I wasn't looking for anyone else. Virginia and I were good together and it hurts like hell to know she's gone."

  Rachel could almost feel his pain. Or was she only feeling her own pain after losing a loved one? Rachel glanced at the mirror, wondering if Seymour was still sizing up the suspect. "Why didn't you report Virginia missing earlier?" In her mind, that would be the first thing to do for someone you supposedly cared so much about.

  Farentino raised his chin. "Because she wasn't missing—at least not that I knew of. In spite of our involvement, we weren't tied at the hip. Sometimes we would go a few days without seeing each other or texting. This was one of those times. I never thought there was a reason to be concerned."

  That seemed plausible to Rachel, considering. She switched angles. "Ms. Upton's body was found in the vehicle of a hula dancer who was murdered earlier. Her name was Yoshie Akiyama. Does that name ring any bells?"

  He thought about it, before responding. "Not really."

  "Was Virginia Upton involved in hula dancing in some capacity that you know of?"

  "I'm pretty sure Virginia was not a hula dancer, instructor, or whatever," Farentino said. "Between her job, working in her garden, and our time together, there wasn't much left for hula." He paused. "I can't explain what she was doing in that car. Maybe you can figure it out."

  "We will," Rachel said firmly. "For the record, I need to know your whereabouts the night Virginia was killed." She gave him the coroner's estimated time of death.

  Farentino responded without prelude: "I was at the Bowling Center in Wailuku. I'm on a league and probably on the security cameras there. Take your pick..."

  Rachel picked the latter, as cameras didn't lie. Still, she doubted he was the one responsible for Virginia Upton'
s death and told him he was free to go.

  * * *

  In the interrogation room, Ferguson sat in front of Bradford Upton, the ex-husband of Virginia Upton.

  The sixty-two-year-old Upton was of medium build and bald with a gray goatee. "I don't understand why I'm here," he said tartly.

  "Your ex-wife is dead," Ferguson told him with an edge to his voice. "We're bringing in everyone who was connected to her in some way as we try to find out who killed her. I'm sure you can understand that."

  Upton's hard features softened. "I guess. I'm not sure how much I can offer, though. We were divorced and didn't see each other much."

  Ferguson thought about his ex. They didn't see each other much either. It was almost as if they had never been married for more than a decade. He fantasized about them getting back together, but knew it could never happen. There was too much water under the bridge to go down that road again for either of them.

  "When did you last see your wife...ex-wife?" Ferguson asked.

  Upton scratched his pate. "Maybe a couple of weeks ago."

  "How was everything in her life?"

  He shrugged. "She was fine. Seemed happy enough."

  "Did you know her boyfriend, Dave Farentino?"

  "Yeah, we met, but we weren't bosom buddies or anything."

  "So you had no problem with her dating another man?"

  Upton frowned. "Why would I? I'm married to someone else."

  "It wouldn't be the first time a man moved on, but wouldn't allow his ex to," Ferguson told him. "Even to the point of killing her."

  "Well that didn't happen here. I wasn't even on Maui when Virginia was killed. As I told the officer who tracked me down, my wife, Connie, and I were visiting her folks in Providence, Rhode Island. You can check it out."

  Ferguson considered that Upton could have had someone else do his dirty work, while giving himself a solid alibi. "I will," he said. "Why don't you tell me about your daughter—?"

  Upton's eyes widened. "What about her?"

  "Was she close to your ex-wife?"

  "Yeah. Why?"

  Ferguson lowered his chin. "Would she have any reason to want her dead?"

  Upton's brows twitched. "No! Judy loved her mother. To suggest she would do anything to hurt her is ludicrous!"

  "I never suggested anything," Ferguson retorted, holding his ground. "It's my job to make sure all bases are covered."

  "Well, you need to look in another direction," Upton maintained. "Whoever killed Virginia is out there somewhere. As soon as you find that person, we can all move on with our lives."

  I'd say you already have, Ferguson mused. "One more thing," he asked curiously, "do you happen to know Yoshie Akiyama or Jackie Furomoto?"

  "I know they were murdered," he said. After a slight pause, he added: "When I was still married to Virginia, it just so happens that Jackie was one of our neighbors—"

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  In his office, Seymour received the latest update on the Virginia Upton murder investigation from Rachel and Ferguson.

  "We're looking into the neighbor angle," Ferguson told him, "to see if there is any connection between her murder and Jackie Furomoto's—which, in turn, would also have to tie into the murder of Yoshie Akiyama."

  "There does seem to be some symmetry here we can't ignore," Seymour said musingly.

  "Maybe," Rachel said. "At the same time, so far we've drawn nothing but blanks trying to come up with a simple explanation for why Virginia Upton was shot to death and left in a burning vehicle. Then there's the fact that Jackie and Yoshie were stabbed until they succumbed to the vicious attack. It doesn't really fit that the assailant would change tactics with a third victim, including going after someone who is much older than the first two victims and, as far as we know, has no affiliation with the world of hula dancers."

  "Other than the fact that she just so happens to be a neighbor of one of the hula victims," Ferguson said. "What are the odds of that?"

  "Maybe better than you think," she replied. "Maui is not that large, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that two killers could have targeted women in the same community."

  "I agree," Seymour said. "What have you found out about those who were closest to Virginia Upton?"

  "It looks like the boyfriend and ex-husband are off the hook," Ferguson told him.

  Seymour leaned back in the chair. "What about the daughter?"

  "By all accounts, she appears to be innocent too," Rachel said. "We're heading over to see her in a few minutes for a follow-up interview. Hopefully she can give us something that will provide some clues as to what may have led to her mother's death."

  "And maybe Furomoto's and Akiyama's by extension," added Ferguson.

  "Be sure to keep Leila and Chung in the loop," Seymour told them. "Like it or not, Yoshie Akiyama's charred car bridges the investigations in one way or another."

  After Rachel and Ferguson left, Seymour picked up the file on his desk for drug dealer, Shichiro Gutierrez. How deeply was Chung involved with him, if at all? How many people on the island was Gutierrez poisoning with illicit drugs?

  Seymour picked up the phone, dialed a number, and let it ring.

  "Agent Yamanaka."

  "Aloha. This is Lieutenant Seymour with the Maui Police Department."

  "Hey there. Long time no hear."

  "I could say the same to you," Seymour said. He'd previously worked with the DEA agent based in Honolulu on a couple of cases. "What does the DEA have on Shichiro Gutierrez?"

  "Hmm. Let's check it out..." After a few moments, Yamanaka replied: "Gutierrez is definitely on our radar. He's suspected of dealing everything from crystal meth to crack cocaine to marijuana."

  "Maybe I can help deliver him to you and get him off our backs," Seymour told him.

  "I'm listening..."

  * * *

  Judy Upton lived in a condo on Hauoli Street in Maalaea, a small harbor town in Central Maui known for whale watching and home of the Maui Ocean Center marine park and aquarium.

  "We just had a few follow-up questions for you regarding our investigation into your mother's death," Rachel told Judy as they sat in the small, neat living room.

  "I'll tell you whatever I can," she said calmly, sitting on the couch beside her boyfriend, Drew Takiguchi. He was in his thirties and muscular with dark hair and a tattoo on his right arm and shoulder. A cigarette dangled from his lips.

  "Do you know Jackie Furomoto?" Ferguson asked her.

  "No. Should I?"

  "She was a neighbor of your mother's," Rachel responded. "She was murdered recently."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Judy said sincerely.

  "Did you know her?" Ferguson asked Takiguchi.

  "No," he said.

  "What about Yoshie Akiyama?"

  "Doesn't sound familiar," Takiguchi said as he took a drag on the cigarette.

  "What about you?" Ferguson asked Judy.

  "I know Yoshie was killed," she said, pausing for a moment. "I never met her, but I heard that she owned the car my mother was found in."

  "Yoshie and Jackie are believed to have been murdered by a serial killer," Rachel said, assuming this was news to them. "Your mother may have been a victim of the same killer. Or do you know another reason why she would have been in that particular vehicle?"

  Judy glanced at her boyfriend and back to the detectives. "I have no idea why my mother was in that car, other than the killer probably forced her to get in before shooting her—"

  Rachel had no reason to doubt her story, but she still had some reservations nonetheless as a police detective. She asked her pointblank: "Can you tell us where you were the night your mother was murdered?"

  Judy colored. "Why? Am I a suspect?"

  "Everyone's a suspect," Ferguson said swiftly, "including your boyfriend here, till we find out who murdered Virginia Upton and then set the car on fire to try to destroy evidence of the crime."

  "We were together," Takiguchi admitted as smoke
billowed from his nostrils.

  Ferguson eyed him keenly. "Where?"

  "Here."

  Rachel gazed at Judy. "Is that true?"

  "Yes, we were here all night."

  Ferguson shot her a hard look. "Can anyone else verify that?"

  "Why does anyone need to?" Takiguchi snorted. "We didn't do anything wrong and didn't know we needed to have people over to prove we hung out together."

  "I'll take that as a no," Ferguson said sarcastically.

  Judy turned to Rachel uneasily. "Do we need a lawyer or something?"

  "No, we just needed to ask for the record," she responded, glancing at Ferguson. "It's okay if you're each other's alibi, as long as you're being straight with us."

  "It's the truth," Judy insisted. "I never would have killed my mother and then reported her missing. I mean, who does that?"

  Rachel could think of more than a few instances where that occurred. "You'd be surprised," she told her. "People do all types of things to throw the police off as a means to keep us from getting to the truth. Eventually, though, it will come out and the guilty will have to pay for their crimes." She gestured to Ferguson and they both stood. "Thanks for talking to us."

  "I hope you find whoever killed my mother and those other women," Judy said in earnest.

  "We will," Ferguson assured her, "even if they aren't the same person."

  When she got to the door, Rachel paused deliberately before turning around and asking Judy: "By the way, did your mother have life insurance?"

  She appeared to be caught off guard by the question, but recovered quickly and answered: "Yes."

  "How much?" Ferguson asked.

  Judy paused. "A million dollars—"

  "She had one million reasons to murder her mother," Ferguson noted, as they drove away from the property.

  "I agree," Rachel admitted, "except for the fact that their alibi hasn't been disproven yet. And then there's also the matter of two other dead women who are linked to a serial killer, and a car that was suspiciously set ablaze—all pieces of a puzzle that still have to fit."

  "Maybe they aren't supposed to fit," he said. "Maybe we're trying too damn hard to connect dots that aren't connected at all."