"All right, I'll run this by the powers that be. But since they've pretty much taken a hand's off approach and allow me to run my unit as I see fit, I think we should be able to move forward with this plan," Seymour said levelly. "Of course, we'll take every precaution to ensure your safety."
She flashed an appreciative smile. "I wouldn't have expected anything less."
"Then we're on?" Chung asked.
"Yeah," Seymour said confidently. Gazing at Leila, he added: "If at any time you have second thoughts or otherwise wish to abort the project—"
"I won't," she assured him. "I think it's time we know Yoshioka's next move before he does."
Leila felt a sense of achievement without having really done anything as of yet. That didn't stop her from believing this was perhaps their best chance to stop the Hula Killer before any other families had to be notified of a loved one's death by repeated stabbings.
"One other thing..." Seymour said. "This is probably none of my business, but how does Maxwell feel about your desire to go undercover as a hula dancer for a serial killer to target?"
Leila felt all eyes on her, as she stared at the question. After a moment or two, she answered truthfully: "He doesn't know anything about it—"
* * *
I can't believe I asked her that, Seymour told himself, after Leila and Chung had left his office. Getting personal with Leila after things with them had become much more professional probably wasn't a good idea.
Nonetheless, Leila had responded straightforwardly and added: "Maxwell understands the demands of my job and supports me fully."
Seymour heard the words, but wasn't buying it. He really didn't know Maxwell very well, but what little he did know told him that he wasn't a man who would have easily given his stamp of approval for his girlfriend to undertake a risky mission to try to bring down a serial killer.
But who am I to question her decision? Seymour asked himself. Or try to get into the head of the man she was seeing. Or was he missing something here?
Could there be trouble in paradise between Leila and her boyfriend? Would she actually prefer to bump heads with a murderous psychopath than make mad love to the man who asked her to marry him?
Seymour wanted to kick himself for mentally probing into Leila's love life, as though he had any right to. She was a grown woman and old enough to make her own choices without being psychoanalyzed by her boss and ex-lover.
Especially since he had his own problems brewing that needed to be addressed in a hurry.
Seymour pondered the news about Gina Mahelona delivered to him by Eddie Naku. What the hell was he supposed to do with the knowledge that one of his detectives was living with the birth mother of his adopted daughter? Had Ferguson been plotting some sort of strategy to bring his girlfriend into their lives?
At this point, there was only one way for him to find out.
* * *
Ferguson assumed when Seymour asked him to step into his office that it was to talk about a case. Maybe the lieutenant wanted him and Rachel to lend a hand in trying to bring down the Hula Killer once and for all. Ferguson was all for doing their part, especially since they had just wrapped up their own murder investigation.
It occurred to him that perhaps Seymour wanted to invite him and Gina to dinner, as a follow-up to their recent get together with his wife. Ferguson was sure that Gina would be up for it, especially if it gave her an up close chance to see her daughter.
"Close the door," Seymour said gruffly, as he sat at his desk.
"All right." Ferguson did as he asked and then sat down. "So, what's up?"
Seymour glared at him. "Did you know that your girlfriend is my daughter's birth mother?"
Ferguson stared at the question, which caught him off guard. How the hell did he find out? "What—?" the word snapped out of his mouth.
"You heard me. The woman you're sleeping with, Gina Mahelona, gave birth to my daughter nine plus years ago."
"I had no idea," Ferguson lied through his teeth with a straight face. "Are you sure?"
Seymour nodded. "I'm sure. I had a private investigator look into it."
"Why?" Ferguson asked curiously.
"My wife had a premonition or whatever that Akela's birth mother would somehow enter our lives and cause trouble."
Ferguson considered the situation. He knew Gina had no desire to cause trouble. But she did want to keep tabs on the child that she never really wanted to give away. "Was it an open or closed adoption?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"Closed," Seymour said. "But that doesn't mean much if she was able to get around it to find out who adopted her daughter."
"She doesn't know," Ferguson said convincingly.
"Really?" Seymour peered at him across the desk. "You expect me to believe that a prostitute—who happens to be the birth mother of my daughter—is cozying up to one of my detectives and it's just coincidental? I don't think so."
Ferguson sighed, trying to keep his cool. "First of all, Gina was not a prostitute when we began dating," he lied again. "Yeah, she told me she had been in the business briefly when she fell on hard times. And I didn't condemn her for that, since I had just lost my wife to another man. As for being the birth mother of your daughter, Gina is clueless. She gave up her daughter because she wasn't in a good place when Akela was born. Her only wish was that her daughter would be adopted by a loving family who took great care of her. That's clearly the case with you and Mele. The fact that I happen to work for you is just a coincidence. Trust me you have nothing to worry about with Gina."
"I hope you're right about that," Seymour said with an edge to his voice.
"I am." Ferguson had to force himself to sound believable. Now he needed to make sure Gina didn't mess things up for either of them.
"Just keep her away from my daughter," Seymour hissed. "Otherwise, we're going to have a big problem."
Be careful with the threats, Ferguson thought. You might be able to keep mother and daughter apart for now, but one day Akela will be an adult and she might want to have a relationship with her birth mother.
Ferguson hoped to be retired by then and not caught in the middle of this web, potentially putting his career and pension in jeopardy. "We won't have any problems," he said equably. "Am I free to go?"
"Yeah, get the hell out of here," Seymour said, and dismissed him with a glance.
Ferguson stood up and walked out of the office, wondering if and how he should approach Gina about this.
* * *
Seymour watched as Ferguson exited. He remained suspicious about the timing and circumstances of Gina's entry into Ferguson's life, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. At least for now.
He would do his best to put Mele's mind at ease, while easing his own mind at the same time.
Given the fact that his attention needed to be squarely on setting up the undercover operation to try to nab Motoshi Yoshioka without any harm coming to Leila, not having his daughter being subjected to any unwanted intrusion in her life was one less headache for Seymour to worry about.
Yet he would worry anyway, just as any father would who wanted to protect the most precious little thing in the world to him.
* * *
Ferguson went home for a late lunch. Or, actually, to take his young lover to bed.
He was hoping she wasn't in class at the College of Maui, where Gina was trying to decide what she wanted to do with her life, now that she was out of the sex trade. She was meandering between cosmetology and the hospitality business.
Either one worked for him.
She was sitting at the dining room table, apparently studying.
"Hey," he said, while thinking about his face-to-face conversation with Blake Seymour.
"You're home early," Gina said, without looking his way.
He kissed the back of her hair and neck. "I missed you..."
"Really?"
He cupped one of her breasts. "Always."
Gina pushed his hand away
. "Not now. I have to study."
Ferguson wondered if she would be so focused were he to tell her about Seymour's not so veiled threat. "I need you," he said hungrily. "We can make it quick and then you can get back to studying."
She turned around, gazed up at him, and said: "Okay, a quickie. Just don't leave me hanging once you're satisfied."
He grinned. "I won't. I promise."
By the time they were done and equally satisfied, Ferguson had decided it was best to leave well enough alone and not tell Gina that Seymour knew she was his daughter's biological mother. As far as he was concerned, there was no need to stir the pot, putting everyone on edge unnecessarily. What would be would be. Until then, he was more than happy to have Gina all to himself, without a daughter who was no longer hers to complicate things.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Leila retuned to the Aloha Hula Dance Company, this time not as a homicide detective investigating the murder of one of their employees, but to use it as a front for her undercover role as a hula dancer. Realizing that Motoshi Yoshioka was no fool, even if he was a full-fledged psychopath, Leila knew she had to make this as convincing as possible if she hoped to draw him out into the open. Only then could they end this nightmare by taking him into custody.
"So you'd like a crash course in hula dancing?" Director Julia Kealoha asked Leila. She had been apprised of the plan on a need-to-know basis.
"Yes," she reiterated. "I don't want to look like an amateur."
"No problem. We'll have Caitlin, who is one of our best dancers, show you the ropes."
"Mahalo," Leila said.
"We're more than happy to cooperate," Julia assured her, "especially if it leads to the arrest of the person who murdered Yoshie and Jackie."
That was certainly Leila's objective, along with the other members of the Maui Police Department.
Ten minutes later, she was standing barefoot on the dance floor with Caitlin Wakashige, a Hawaiian dance instructor and model. They had loaned Leila a sexy hula costume consisting of a coconut bra, green grass skirt, ankle and wrist bracelets, and an orchid headband.
Though she felt a bit out of her league, Leila sucked it up and put forth her best effort to learn the ins and outs of being a good hula dancer.
"You need a little more hip action," Caitlin told her.
Leila complied, while also trying to remember to keep her arms, legs, and feet in motion with the blend of Polynesian and contemporary music that was playing.
"Now you're starting to get the hang of it," Caitlin declared happily.
"You think so?"
Caitlin smiled. "You must have been a hula dancer in another lifetime, Detective."
Leila chuckled, encouraged by the compliment. "Maybe so," she joked, while hoping she had enough hula and aloha in her to dupe Motoshi Yoshioka into seeing her as the perfect dancer to target for his screwed up fixation with his now dead mother.
After another hour of schooling in the art of hula dancing, Leila felt she was ready to pull this off and would be able to get the attention of the serial killer.
Now there were still a couple of other pieces of the puzzle to put into place, such as flyers at the mall and announcing the free hula show, as Leila tried to shake off the thought that making herself a target could come back to haunt her.
* * *
Officer Natalie Yuen was surprised when she was summoned to the desk of Detective Sergeant Kahana. She wondered if there was news on Motoshi Yoshioka to share, given that it was Natalie's boyfriend, Jotoku, who had identified the killer's composite drawing.
"Hey," Leila said in a friendly tone.
Natalie smiled. "Hi. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes." She paused. "I need to ask a big favor of you and Jotoku—"
Natalie listened as Leila explained to her the plot to lure Yoshioka out in the open by having Leila go undercover as a hula girl. She was set to perform at the Lahaina Cannery Mall, where Brenda Gonzalez had hoped to do the same recently until she was attacked by Yoshioka, putting her out of commission for a while. Leila wanted Jotoku and his band to perform with her, having already secured the services of fire knife dancer, Hiram Miyahira.
"Of course, uh, I mean I'm sure Jotoku and the guys would be happy to perform with you and do their part to help bring justice for Brenda and the other hula dancers."
Leila smiled. "Good. I was hoping you would say that."
Natalie tried to imagine the usually serious-minded detective letting her hair down as a hula dancer. It should be interesting, in addition to perhaps succeeding in their objective of getting Yoshioka.
"I'll contact Jotoku right away and you can set things up."
"Thanks," Leila said sincerely. "Oh, and by the way, I'd like you there in plainclothes to join our detectives and other law enforcement personnel, so we have all our bases covered if the suspect shows up."
Natalie grinned. "You can count on me." She was honored to get her first taste as a "detective," and hoped it would lead to bigger and better things down the line.
But first things first—together, they needed to trap a wicked killer before he killed again.
* * *
Renee moved back on top of her deputy prosecuting attorney lover after tiring of being in the missionary position, which he preferred. She caressed his hard chest while riding him like a prized stallion, moaning shamelessly as she felt her orgasm coming. When it reached the apex, she let out a scream of delight that clearly turned him on, as he came shortly thereafter, gripping her shoulders tightly as he thrust himself into her.
Afterward, she kissed him deeply and climbed off of him. "That was electrifying," she admitted as they lay on the big bed in his oceanfront condo.
Dylan laughed. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"
"If you bring that same passion to the courtroom, I can only imagine what you do to the jury," Renee teased him.
"Well, I do have them eating out of my hands," he said smoothly, "at least most of the time."
She kissed his shoulder. "And I get you all for myself the rest of the time."
"Yeah, when you're not busy running around covering the latest crime stories on the island."
Was he suggesting she should push her own career to the side to cater to his every need? "It's my job," she said defensively.
"I know," he told her, lifting up on an elbow, "and that's why I'm letting you in on a little secret that you didn't hear from me—understood?"
Renee met his eyes curiously. "Understood."
"Tomorrow afternoon there's a hula event going down at the Lahaina Cannery Mall with the aim being to catch the Hula Killer in a trap."
"Really?" Her interest perked up even more.
"Yeah. And since I know you've put a lot into this ongoing story, I just wanted to give you a head's up. I can't say any more than that, though."
"You don't have to." She wet her lips, pushing him back down on the bed. "Why don't you just lie back and let me do the talking..."
As she went down on him, Renee pondered this latest twist in the Hula Killer investigation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Leila entered the stage as if she were a natural. The fire knife dancer and musicians, led by Jotoku Ozai, had warmed up the audience in preparation for her big performance. Admittedly, she felt a few butterflies as she stood there waiting for her cue. After all, she was about to perform in front of the undercover officers who were sprinkled throughout the spectators, and hopefully Motoshi Yoshioka, if he dared to show his face. She had to be convincing if her crash course in hula dancing was going to pay off.
"Okay, here goes," she said evenly, knowing the wire she was wearing as an extra precaution had picked it up.
Leila began hula dancing in full costume to the applause of the crowd. She wondered if that included Yoshioka. He was certainly the only reason she had taken on this challenge. This, in spite of feeling a bit uncomfortable in taking on a persona that she had always admired in others. But duty called in attempting to set a trap
for a killer that he might have a hard time resisting.
Her thoughts turned to Maxwell. He knew nothing about this risky undertaking. Had he known, she was sure he would have asked her to reconsider and she may have listened to him. She felt vulnerable to her feelings for him, a man who wanted her as his wife, so she decided not to tell him what was going down.
She only hoped that once it was over, they could talk about it, and maybe some clarity would come into focus regarding their future as a couple.
Leila took note of Chung and Seymour, among others who were close at hand, watching her every move and that of anyone within striking distance. She knew they had her back, even if in the case of Chung, he had his own agenda beyond working on the right side of the law.
And Seymour's neck was on the line here as much as hers. If something went horribly wrong, they would both have to answer for it, in one respect or another.
She continued to sway with the music, closing her eyes for a moment and imagining she really was a hula girl in the spirit of aloha and the richness of the Hawaiian Islands.
Just as quickly, Leila came back down to earth and the reality that she was just doing her job in order to lure out a mentally unbalanced and very dangerous serial killer.
* * *
Seymour was actually impressed as he watched Leila hula dance. It was as though she had been doing it all her life. He couldn't help but think back to when they made love and she showed him her moves privately. Now she was performing flawlessly before an audience of undercover police and unsuspecting vacationers at a mall, hoping to catch the attention of a man who had murdered or attempted to murder hula dancers, including killing his own mother, an ex-hula dancer.
So far, Seymour saw no sign of the most wanted man on Maui. He checked in with his undercover officers, but none of them had spotted the suspect either. Yet Seymour sensed that Motoshi Yoshioka was still lurking around somewhere just waiting for his chance to strike.
We're not going to let you harm one hair on Leila's head, you bastard, Seymour told himself. Not while he was heading the Homicide Unit. And just how long would that be? Could he move further up the ranks? Or would he ultimately be shoved out the door to be replaced by a younger, more tech savvy, less cerebral person?
Murder of the Hula Dancers Page 21