She flashed her teeth at him warmly. "You're such a good man, Maxwell. Mahalo for being so understanding."
He smiled. "You're worth it, Leila. I just don't want things to be weird between us as we move forward in our relationship."
"They won't be if we don't let them," she said, looking up at him.
He took a sip of wine and then put it and hers on the counter. "I agree." With that he cupped her cheeks and gave her a solid kiss on the mouth.
The powerful kiss left Leila feeling like she was floating on air. She stuck her tongue in his mouth, tasting the wine, which turned her on even more.
"Why don't we take this up to the bedroom?" she suggested.
"Good idea," he murmured.
Leila was happy to not have to look too far ahead in their relationship. But when she did, she could see a bright future with Maxwell Kishimoto.
They made love and then drifted off to sleep in one another's arms.
* * *
Saba Fujikawa had no problem shaking her hips and stomach provocatively, while moving her arms and legs in well-practiced routines. It was, after all, how she made her living, along with the other women and men on the stage at the resort hotel on Kaanapali Beach. She basked in performing before the ogling eyes of men and women, many of whom had too much to drink, as if to enhance their pleasure.
Let them get wasted if they want while visiting Maui and dreaming about hula girls, Saba thought naughtily. Wearing a hibiscus flower hair clip behind her right ear and a lavender orchid and tuberose lei over a Hawaiian sarong dress, she danced in her bare feet without missing a beat to the sounds of Polynesian and Tahitian music.
When the show ended, Saba wasted no time changing into a one-shoulder printed top, white capri jeans, and flip-flops. She needed to get home to her three-year-old daughter, KeeKee, whom her mother was babysitting. Having lived her whole life in Hawaii, Saba wanted so much more for her daughter. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to happen with the support of KeeKee's dad. He had abandoned them when she was less than a year old, moving to Honolulu with his current girlfriend.
So that left it all up to Saba, who hoped to save up enough money to send KeeKee to any college of her choice, while encouraging her to see as much of the world as she could.
In the hotel, Saba went to the ladies' room. She was totally unaware that she was being followed.
* * *
Motoshi had watched as Saba strutted her stuff before an audience that seemed to react to every move she made. As she twisted and turned her voluptuous body sexually, she was masterfully manipulating them with her hula dancing. He viewed her obvious attempts to entice men as sinful, just like his mother had been once upon a time.
And, like his mother, the hula dancer, whom he had actually worked with once as a fire knife dancer, could not be allowed to live and corrupt others.
He watched from a distance with his new look as she strolled through the hotel like she owned the place, before heading into the bathroom.
After watching another woman leave the bathroom, Motoshi stepped inside. He saw Saba standing before the mirror washing the excessive makeup off her face. Though he applauded her for this, the damage had already been done and she was incapable of undoing it.
So caught up was she in what she was doing, the hula dancer barely noticed him in her periphery.
When she did, it was too late.
"Saba," he said coolly. "I'm Motoshi, fire knife dancer, and now your worst nightmare—"
He saw the fear, and perhaps recognition, in her otherwise pretty brown eyes. Not giving her a chance to make a run for it or even scream, Motoshi whipped out a knife with lightning speed and drove it straight into her heart.
She gasped and made a whimpering sound. It fell on deaf ears as he yanked the bloodstained knife out and plunged it again into her stomach. He held up her faltering body, while driving the sharp blade into her over and over again.
When he was finished, Motoshi dragged the hula dancer's bloody corpse into the stall furthest away from the door, and put her on the toilet. He managed to keep her propped up while her lifeless eyes seemingly stared back at him like his mother used to do when he did bad things.
Only, in this case, he was certain what he'd done was a good thing and one that his father would approve of.
Leaving his victim in the stall, Motoshi grabbed some paper towels and cleaned up the blood off the sink and floor as best as possible to buy some time.
Then he turned off the light and quietly made his escape.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
At eight-thirty the next morning, Leila was on the scene of a homicide at the Kaanapali Seas Hotel on Kaanapali Beach. The victim, tentatively identified as Saba Fujikawa, a twenty-seven-year-old hula dancer, was discovered in a bathroom stall by a janitorial worker. The murder had all the hallmarks of the Hula Killer.
"Looks like she was stabbed multiple times inside the ladies' restroom sometime after eight last night," Chung told Leila, as if to hammer down the likelihood that Motoshi Yoshioka was the killer. "She had just finished performing with other hula dancers outside on the hotel grounds."
"Any witnesses?" Given that the attack took place at a popular hotel, it seemed reasonable to Leila that someone had seen something.
Chung shook his head. "There have been some reports of seeing a strange man lurking about inside and outside the hotel. But, so far, no one has come forward to point the finger at Yoshioka."
"We can't rule out a copycat killer," Leila said. Though they had no reason to believe this, serial killers did tend to inspire others to pick someone to target so they could get a slice of the attention accorded the infamous.
Chung ran a hand across his mouth. "I suppose anything's possible," he said. "Too bad the dead can't talk. Short of that, it fits Yoshioka's M.O. to a tee and we know the man is desperate and crazy enough to think that every sexy hula dancer is in his mother's youthful image and needs to be taken out."
Leila couldn't deny that it certainly appeared to be the work of Yoshioka. He was just bold enough, when combined with his mental instability, that it seemed quite plausible for him to attack the victim in a very public place.
"We need to take a look at the hotel's surveillance video to see if he shows up," she said.
"I'm already on it," Chung told her. "They're putting it together even as we speak."
Leila nodded. "Has anyone talked to the other participants in the hula show yet? Maybe someone saw Yoshioka hanging around or even confronted him."
"We're looking into that. Meanwhile, I talked to the hotel's entertainment director, Abigail Kalawaia. According to her, the victim had been working as a hula dancer at the hotel for three years and loved what she did in making people happy."
"Except one person," Leila said, frowning. "Someone who was determined to make sure she never danced again."
"Yeah," Chung muttered. "Unfortunately, she also had a three-year-old daughter who she'll never get to see grow up."
Leila felt the pain of that reality. Even though she had no kids of her own, it didn't mean she couldn't imagine the anguish of a child being left motherless at a time when they needed a mother the most. Maybe she would have children someday, with Maxwell...or someone else.
"That's what this monster is doing," she moaned, "destroying families."
Chung sneered. "And he's probably not going to stop till he destroys even more of them."
That's what I'm afraid of, Leila thought, but said: "Unless we put a stop to it, once and for all." She knew it was easier said than done, even as she sensed the killer was close by and perhaps saw this as a challenge—one that he expected to win.
Not if I have anything to say about it, she mused with equal determination.
A few minutes later, Leila watched as Dr. Patricia Lee supervised the removal of the body to be taken to the morgue.
Patricia walked up to Leila and frowned. "Before you ask, I can only give you my preliminary assessment of what happened to the
decedent."
"So I won't ask, I'll just listen," Leila said humorlessly.
"All right. I'd say the victim died due to multiple stab wounds she sustained, mostly to her heart, chest, and stomach, with at least one vicious injury to her neck and another to her lower extremities. In case that wasn't clear, the manner of death is homicide. Using a very long knife, her killer was like a person possessed and showed the victim no mercy whatsoever."
Leila swallowed thickly upon hearing this, even if she already suspected as much. It was like listening to a broken record with the same tune of death.
"Like the other victims of—" Leila began.
Patricia broke in as she said: "I would definitely say that the method and madness of the murder was consistent with the others linked to the man known as the Hula Killer. Or the suspect you now identify as Motoshi Yoshioka."
"They're one and the same," Leila said flatly.
Patricia nodded. "Whatever. Just do me and yourself a favor, Leila, and capture him before either of us has to deal with the aftermath of another poor woman being stabbed to death."
Leila sighed. "I'll do everything in my power to keep that from happening." She just wondered if that would be enough in the face of a relentless serial killer who, even after killing his mother, continued a reign of terror on Maui.
* * *
Chung stood in the hotel's security monitoring room as the security officer pulled up the video footage from the estimated time they believed Saba Fujikawa first entered the bathroom. As far as Chung was concerned, the homicide was definitely the work of Motoshi Yoshioka. But they still had to go through the process in order to nail his ass.
"There she is..." the security officer uttered keenly.
Chung watched her enter the bathroom. A few seconds later, he saw a man wearing a white bucket hat, print shirt, and jeans enter the bathroom. He fit the characteristics of Yoshioka.
"Are there any cameras inside the bathroom?" Chung asked hopefully.
"Nope. Unfortunately, with all the privacy issues, Big Brother, and peeping tom complaints, no can do."
"Yeah, I figured as much," Chung said as they continued to watch the footage.
Momentarily, the man exited the bathroom and Chung got a fairly good look at his face when the camera zoomed in.
He was pretty sure it was Motoshi Yoshioka. Chung watched as he scooted off like a cowardly punk after butchering yet another victim.
And, unlike Brenda Gonzalez, Saba Fujikawa wouldn't live to tell about it.
* * *
Renee tried to get past the police perimeter around the crime scene, hoping to speak to Detective Kahana or Chung. She preferred the former, as Chung had been playing hard to get lately where it concerned information ever since things had cooled off between them, sexually speaking. Never mind the fact that they had both moved on a couple of times over and had never expected anything to come out of their intimacy, other than hot sex and short-term companionship.
Damn, she thought, I have to find a way to get around this so I can be one of the first reporters to get an official response on the latest hula dancer murder.
Renee went off to find the housekeeping room. There, she offered a cute custodial worker fifty dollars to let her borrow a uniform, promising to bring it back. It only took a few bats of the eye and a sexy smile to get him on board.
After changing into the housekeeping uniform and putting her hair up, she made her way back to the area. Renee watched as a covered body was being carted off to the morgue by two husky males, led by the coroner, Doctor Patricia Lee.
Renee saw this as a great opportunity to get a word from her, as she'd talked to Doctor Lee previously about cases. She practically blocked her from passing and said: "Doctor Lee, can you tell me what happened to the victim?"
Patricia narrowed her eyes with recognition and seemingly mild amusement. "Have you changed careers recently?"
Renee couldn't resist a smile. "I believe in multitasking."
"I'm sure you do. Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to comment on the deceased, pending the official autopsy report."
Renee frowned. "Can you at least tell me if the victim died in a manner similar to the previous murders of hula dancers?"
Patricia paused. "Let's just say that the victim's death appears to be a homicide. As to how it relates to other recent deaths, I have no comment at this time. You might want to talk to one of the detectives on the case. Good day."
Renee watched her walk away, but could read enough between the lines to draw some conclusions. The victim was murdered and it was most likely in the same vicious manner as the others.
But I need more specifics to write a story, she thought.
She went around to another point of entry and indicated to an officer that she had to get through for work.
He gave her the once over and said, "You can pass through, but the women's bathroom is off limits."
"I understand," Renee told him, having heard that the victim, tentatively identified as Saba Fujikawa, was killed there.
Renee quickly moved past several others that she recognized as crime scene investigators, till she came upon Leila Kahana, who was talking with a hotel employee.
"Detective Kahana..." Renee got her attention.
Leila regarded her with a less than welcoming look. "Excuse me for a moment," she told the employee. Glaring at her, Leila demanded, "How did you get in here?"
Renee was a little intimidated by the detective, but didn't back down. "I'm a journalist. I have my ways."
Leila glanced at her housekeeping uniform. "I'm sure you do, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."
Renee had expected her to play hardball. "I'm just trying to fill in a couple of blanks after talking to the coroner," she said coolly.
Leila lifted a brow. "You talked to Doctor Lee?"
"Yes, a couple of minutes ago." Renee hoped she had found an opening. "Can you confirm that the victim was, in fact, Saba Fujikawa?"
"The victim won't be formally identified until we've notified the next of kin," Leila said firmly.
Renee took that as a yes. "Is it true that the killer followed her into the ladies' room and murdered her with a knife?"
Leila pursed her lips. "Nice try, but you'll have to wait just like everyone else for an official statement from the department."
Renee sneered, but quickly pivoted to a different angle. "Can I ask you a question off the record?"
"Depends on what the question is."
"Are we looking at the Hula Killer's work? And, if so, do you still believe Motoshi Yoshioka is behind this latest attack?"
"That's two questions," Leila said. "I'll answer one, off the record, then goodbye." She sighed. "The crime does appear to have been carried out by the Hula Killer, whoever that happens to be. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Renee got the message and didn't try to push the envelope any further. She left the same way she came, already working on a plan as to how she could use the detective's words without overstepping her "off the record" promise.
CHAPTER THIRTY
"I want to go undercover as a hula dancer," Leila announced as she and Chung stood in Seymour's office.
Seymour's eyes widened. "You what—?"
Leila knew the suggestion would take him by surprise, but she had given it some thought and it seemed like a good way for them to pursue the killer. "I think I should make myself bait to draw Yoshioka out from whatever hole he's hiding in."
"That's foolish thinking," Seymour said.
Chung agreed. "I told her she was crazy."
"No," Leila told them, "Yoshioka is the crazy one. I simply believe that waiting around until he stabs to death another hula girl or hoping we get lucky are terrible odds. Yes, we know who the killer is and we've practically got the whole department trying to find and apprehend him. But that hasn't helped us yet, has it?"
Seymour sighed and pinched his nose. "No, not exactly, but—"
"So let me do this then," s
he said, cutting him off. "It may not work, but it's worth a try if it means getting a monster off the streets."
"Maybe she's got a point," Chung said. "Hey, I'd like to keep you as my partner for the next twenty years, assuming neither of us got tired of the other or made lieutenant, but trying to lure Yoshioka out in the open in a controlled manner could be a good idea."
Leila considered that with Chung being a crooked cop, her days with him were likely numbered either way. Whether that meant he had her back when dealing with a serial killer was something she could not say for certain.
Seymour seemed to be warming up to the idea. "Okay, let's say I bought it. How exactly would this work—?"
Leila sucked in a deep breath and answered thoughtfully: "If we look at Yoshioka's M.O., he clearly focuses on hula dancers that he thinks are provocative in one manner or another. So I'll dress the part and put the word out about me being new on the scene. Once he catches my act, he'll likely wait till the coast is clear and then make his move. That's when we'll get him."
"Have you considered that he might recognize you as a police detective, putting you in even greater danger?" Seymour asked.
"If anything, on the off chance that he's seen me before as a cop, Yoshioka will likely assume it's a trap and head in the opposite direction," Leila said. "But once I'm in costume and doing my thing, I seriously doubt he would put two and two together."
Seymour gave her a sidelong look. "Have you ever done any hula dancing?"
"Yes, when I was a girl," Leila replied pensively. "It was mostly for fun and to stay out of my parents' hair. I'm sure it wouldn't take too much to brush up on it and learn some new techniques, and then I should be good to go." She doubted it would be quite that simple to be convincing enough to fool someone like Motoshi Yoshioka, who had obviously spent much of his life studying hula dancers and could probably spot a fraud a mile away. But she wasn't about to tell them that. Instead, she would rather beat that psychopath at his own game, with the residents of and visitors on Maui the real winners.
Murder of the Hula Dancers Page 20