"Well, I should have been allowed to make that call," Seymour insisted. "We do things as a team or we don't do them at all!"
"I'm sorry," she told him with sad eyes.
"So am I," Chung said, "but not with the end result. We just wanted to bring this case to a close, Lieutenant. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do to shake things up in order to succeed."
Seymour glanced at Leila and back to him thoughtfully. "Internal Affairs will want to investigate this."
"So let them," Chung said boldly. "We have nothing to hide." So maybe he did, but it had nothing to do with this case. What the police department didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
"What made you think Yoshioka would come after you?" Seymour asked Leila.
She ran a hand through her hair pensively. "Just a hunch. I banked on the fact that he might think he needed to finish something he started when he targeted Brenda Gonzalez at the same mall. It made sense, in an odd way, that he would wait for another chance to go after the hula dancer named Leila Tokunaga. I gave him that opportunity when I came to the park, believing this time he would finally have his back against the wall."
"More like against the sand," Chung said humorlessly.
Seymour sighed. "Well, it's over now and, apart from tying up some loose ends, such as linking DNA from Yoshioka's knife to Saba Fujikawa, we should be able to put this nightmare case behind us."
Leila nodded. "Won't that be nice—especially for the hula girls who didn't bargain for this when they signed on as island dancers."
"As you and I know all too well," Seymour told her, "when it comes to criminality in paradise or elsewhere, you should always expect the unexpected."
"Good point," she said knowingly.
Chung concurred, but had a strange feeling they were talking about more than just the case of that nut job, Motoshi Yoshioka.
Or was it once again just his imagination working overtime?
* * *
Renee had followed a vehicle with Lieutenant Seymour inside to the scene of what she quickly discovered was a homicide at Launiupoko Beach Park. The victim was apparently serial killer suspect, Motoshi Yoshioka. If true, she was happy they had finally nailed his ass. After meeting with and interviewing several hula dancers, Renee knew they were terrified—and with good reason—as long as the Hula Killer remained at large.
She was prevented from getting to the lieutenant, who was chatting with Detectives Kahana and Chung. Renee wished she could float over to them like a butterfly and listen in. It would be even better if she could get the specifics directly from Chung, who looked like he was walking on cloud nine. Had he been the one to end Yoshioka's life? Or did Leila Kahana do the honors?
How had they managed to get the jump on the elusive Hula Killer after their mall operation had fallen flat?
Suspecting that neither of the homicide detectives present would issue a statement before the department press conference, Renee waited till Seymour got past the cordoned off area and approached him.
"Lieutenant," she said in a sweet voice, "can you confirm that the deceased is in fact Motoshi Yoshioka?"
Seymour eyed her with recognition considerately. "I'll hold off on that confirmation pending positive identification."
Renee read between his words—it was the infamous Hula Killer. "How was he killed?" she asked.
"He was shot while he was in attack mode."
"By whom?" She looked up at him. "Was it Detective Kahana?"
"The details will be revealed at the appropriate time," he said tersely.
"How was he tracked to this park?" Renee asked. "Did you get a tip? Or was this part of your operation at the Lahaina Cannery Mall?"
Seymour frowned. "You're persistent, if nothing else. Unfortunately, that's all I have to say at the moment."
Renee got that, but tried to squeeze a little more out of him anyway. "Can you at least tell me if the hula dancers on Maui can breathe a little easier now?"
He gave the question some thought, before responding carefully: "I think it's safe to say that we do believe hula dancers and other dancers on the island should feel they are no longer in imminent danger as they pursue their craft. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's somewhere else I need to be—"
Renee wondered where that might be, but backed off. She had enough to work with for the time being in what was a major story on the island that would have everyone talking and listening.
* * *
Having being grilled by Seymour, as expected, Leila went home and had a glass of wine. It had been a long day and would probably be a longer night. She had come face to face with death in the form of a cold-blooded serial killer and lived to have second thoughts about placing herself in the line of fire.
Had it been reckless to use herself as bait to capture Yoshioka? Or was it courageous to do whatever it took to solve the case?
She thought about Jonny Chung. He had saved her life by taking Yoshioka's life. Leila felt guilty that she had sold him down the river in return. Should she ask Seymour to disregard the fact that Chung was on the take, figuring she owed him that much to keep looking the other way? Or were there limits to loyalty—even to a man who shot to death a serial killer who fully intended to jam his knife into her until she was dead.
Leila sipped her wine and padded across the floor. Should she tell Maxwell what happened in all its brutality, culminating with Yoshioka's death? Or would that only make him wonder what the hell he was getting himself into with a police detective whose life could be on the line at any time? Would any person in his or her right mind truly want to enter into a marriage with such risk factors to consider?
Leila wondered if she wasn't giving Maxwell enough credit for knowing exactly who she was and still wanting her, in spite of this.
When the doorbell rang, she thought it might be him. If so, maybe they could talk about this and whatever else was on his mind.
Leila realized that conversation would have to be put on hold, as the person at the door was Blake Seymour.
* * *
"I wanted to stop by...to make sure you were okay," he said lamely, even though it was true.
"I'm fine," she told him.
"Can I come in—?"
Leila hesitated, before opening the door wider and stepping aside.
Seymour came inside and closed the door. Had she said no, he would have understood, especially since he had no business being anywhere but home with his wife and daughter. Yet, it was there with Leila that he wanted to be.
"You could have been hurt by that maniac," he said sharply.
"But I wasn't."
"If anything had happened to you—"
"It didn't," she said.
Seymour sighed. "I'm glad."
Leila gazed at him thoughtfully. "You didn't need to come here to check on me..."
"I know—" He looked at her, remembering for the first time in a while just how attractive she was. Or maybe he'd never forgotten, but didn't want to admit it to her or himself.
"Chung really stepped up when I couldn't get my gun out of my handbag," she said. "If he hadn't taken him out, I might not be here right now."
"It's good to know that Chung did his job in protecting his partner, just as you would have done had the situation been reversed," Seymour said levelly. "But that doesn't mean he should get a free pass for being in bed with drug dealers to fatten his wallet."
"Haven't you ever crossed the line and regretted it?" Leila asked.
"That's the point. Chung doesn't regret using his position with the police department to profit from it illegally. As for crossing the line, yeah, I crossed it with you and I still regret it." He paused, moving closer. "I regret ending it and not being with you..."
She frowned. "Don't—"
Seymour stopped as if he'd run into a brick wall. He lowered his eyes while wondering if coming there had been a mistake. "Akela's birth mother is an ex-prostitute who's shacking up with Ferguson," he muttered unintentionally.
L
eila's eyes widened. "What—?"
"It's true. Mele had me look into the birth mother for her own peace of mind. Now I wish to hell that I'd kept that door closed."
"Does the woman know she's Akela's mother?"
"Ferguson says she doesn't. He claims it's just coincidence that the woman he's sleeping with happens to be the mother of the beautiful child we adopted when she was less than a month old."
Leila frowned. "And you don't believe him...?"
Seymour stared at the words pensively. "I don't know what the hell to believe," he said truthfully. "All I know is Akela is a well-adjusted little girl and I won't let anyone disrupt that and throw her life into turmoil."
"I'm sorry," Leila said sensitively.
"So am I. But I'll just have to deal with it, while protecting Akela and her future."
"How is Mele holding up?"
Seymour twisted his lips. "I haven't told her anything yet. It's best not to stoke the flames unnecessarily."
"You're probably right."
He paused. "You really think so?"
Leila met his eyes. "Yes. It would only put additional strain on your marriage. You both deserve to be happy."
"I'm not sure the two go hand in hand," Seymour admitted. "We're trying, for the sake of Akela, but I'm not sure where it's going. Maybe I don't want to know."
"Why don't you go home and talk to your wife."
He held her gaze. "I guess I feel more at home talking to you."
"Please... Let's not go there—"
It occurred to him that she wasn't with her fiancé. Should he read anything into that?
"Are you sure you feel that way?" he asked. "Or is it just me?"
Leila took a breath, looked away and back, before saying candidly: "It's not just you—"
Seymour stepped closer, taking her cue. This time she didn't stop him.
He held her cheeks and pressed their mouths together. He teased her lips before breaking into a hard kiss. She opened her mouth, reciprocating.
Scooping her up in his arms, Seymour carried Leila to her bedroom and took her to bed.
They used their familiarity with each other's body to prolong the experience and enhance their pleasure; changing positions and stimulating each other wherever it felt good. They climaxed together, holding one another tightly and absorbing the moment of ecstasy for all it was worth.
After it was over, no words were spoken. It was as if they both knew it was a mistake. One that couldn't be undone, but should be forgotten as the only realistic way for them to move forward.
Seymour put his clothes on and showed himself out, before heading home thoughtfully.
* * *
Mele was reading a book in bed when Seymour stepped into the room. He was hoping she would be asleep.
"You're home," she said, as though she had been waiting for him.
"Yeah," he muttered evenly as he started to remove his clothes. "It took us a while to wrap up things on this latest case. Everything all right—?"
"Everything's fine. I just worry sometimes...you know?"
He nodded guiltily. "Nothing will happen to me."
"Are you sure about that?" Her lashes fluttered doubtfully. "You have a dangerous job."
"It's less dangerous now for me as a lieutenant," Seymour told her, neglecting to mention that he sometimes still found himself in the trenches, feeling he should be out there fighting the bad guys.
"If you say so."
He slipped into bed beside her, having washed his face downstairs, so as not to have Leila's scent on it.
"What are you reading?"
"A novel," she answered simply, then put it on the nightstand and cut off her light.
After a moment or two of allowing the darkness to settle in, Seymour said succinctly: "I found her..."
Mele turned his way. "Akela's birth mom?"
"Yeah."
"Is she on the island?"
Seymour stared at the question thoughtfully, before responding: "No," he lied. "She lives in Florida. She's married, has a child, and by all accounts is happy and has no reason to ever try to track down the daughter she gave up voluntarily."
"Mahalo," Mele uttered emotionally.
"I love our daughter, too," Seymour said, "and I'm happy to do my part to secure her stability and future." He hated having to mislead Mele, but he believed it was best for all parties concerned if he placed Gina's whereabouts as far away as possible. At least it would put to rest, for the time being, the wall that had built up between him and Mele with respect to Akela's biological mother.
Now he was counting on Ferguson to keep his girlfriend out of their lives—especially Akela's life. He didn't even want to think about the alternative.
Mele had turned her back to Seymour, seemingly content with the information he had given her that she had nothing to worry about. He wondered if that applied to the state of their marriage, as he mused about making love to Leila.
He held his wife until he fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The following morning, Leila went jogging along the beach. There were a few other joggers and beachgoers out and about enjoying the early morning sunshine. She gazed across the ocean at Lanai and Molokai, but could barely appreciate the alluring islands with her mind still consumed with guilt over what happened last night. Why in the world had she let down her defenses and slept with her ex-lover and current boss?
Did she still have feelings for Seymour? Was it pity sex? If so, was it pity for him, her, or both of them?
She considered that maybe it was some kind of sexual celebration now that Motoshi Yoshioka had been neutralized, even if it didn't feel that way.
Leila sighed as her thoughts turned to Maxwell. Had she gotten cold feet, even though she hadn't even accepted his proposal of marriage?
Or am I just a big jerk for jeopardizing a long-term relationship for one that isn't going anywhere? Leila asked herself, increasing her speed, as if to punish herself for stepping over the line.
She sucked in air and increased her speed even more, before finally slowing down. There was no adequate excuse she could make for what happened last night. Maxwell deserved to be with someone who would not cheat on him. Or could this one-time moment of weakness be excused for the long-term happiness they could have together?
Even while wishing it had never happened for all the obvious reasons, she had no other choice than to own up to it, if only to herself. But that still didn't make her feel any better.
She headed home to shower and get ready for work. They had solved a difficult serial killer case and she was more than ready to move on to whatever came next.
Or was she?
Like it or not, Leila felt she had to navigate some bumps in the road. She hoped things weren't going to be weird between her and Seymour again. Or was it inevitable since they had sex even though they were both involved with someone else?
It was a question she couldn't answer. At least not till she came face to face with him and could read his eyes for any sign that continuing to work together would be all but impossible.
* * *
Seymour had a restless sleep last night, though Mele didn't seem to notice. Instead, he had counted the many ways that he had screwed up again. Cheating on and lying to his wife and allowing Leila to cheat on her fiancé was a no-no and something he obviously wasn't proud of, even if it felt right at the time. Or at least it hadn't felt wrong enough for him to ignore his attraction to Leila and vice versa.
But they were both back down to earth now and had to face the music, whichever direction it came from. He only hoped he could minimize the damage, as no good could come out of furthering a sexual relationship with a subordinate and a damn good detective.
Leila undoubtedly understood this too. This left them in an awkward position as they tried to recalibrate things and get back to normal in their professional capacity. All things considered, there was simply no other choice. Seymour's thoughts hung on that notion as he stepped
into his office.
His attention shifted to Chung. His heroics notwithstanding, Chung had put him in a very difficult position. He couldn't just ignore the fact that he had a crooked cop on his team. If he did, he would be sanctioning, in effect, one of his detectives being dirty and being rewarded for it. That wasn't going to happen.
Seymour flopped down in his chair and sighed loudly. In spite of his personal drama, there were other pressing issues to tend to as a police lieutenant beyond Chung. His unit had taken out the Hula Killer and made the island safe again for residents and tourists alike. But there was still a follow-up press conference where they all tooted their horns for a job well done, the requisite paperwork to do, and dealing with Internal Affairs, which was usually a royal pain in the ass.
Not to mention there were other homicide cases he oversaw, which meant he had to remain on point—at least in a professional capacity. Unfortunately, where it concerned Leila, the overlap between professional and personal was unavoidable to one degree or another. It was something he would just have to manage, as would she, for both their sakes.
* * *
Chung felt pretty good—no, make that great—as he strolled into work temporarily while on paid administrative leave, pursuant to the Maui Police Department policy following an officer-involved shooting. He welcomed the vacation to take care of some of his other business, such as getting together with Shichiro Gutierrez to collect what he was owed. Gutierrez hadn't answered any of his phone calls lately, making Chung wonder if the drug dealer was trying to dodge him.
His thoughts turned to the dead serial killer, Motoshi Yoshioka. Taking out Yoshioka wasn't the first time he had killed someone. But it was definitely the timeliest, given the stakes involved. Take that, you stupid son of a bitch, he thought, moseying over to his desk. He noticed that Leila was not at her desk. Maybe after the ordeal, she had decided to take the day off and spend it banging her boyfriend.
That was fine by him. It just meant that the spotlight of glory for getting rid of Maui's latest nightmare was shining solely on him.
The gleam of triumph faded when Chung noticed Bradford Padalecki, an investigator from Internal Affairs, coming his way. It wasn't that he hadn't expected to be given the third degree about what happened at Launiupoko Beach Park; he just wanted more time to gather himself for what he wanted to say and how to say it.
Murder of the Hula Dancers Page 23