Deadly Reunion

by Lakes, Lynde

  Back at her desk, she stared at the copies of the grotesque pictures of Kiki and Ainsley. That kind of violence just didn’t fit Damon. Was the halo-effect of the man she’d once thought he was blinding her to the facts in the case?

  Malia jumped at the ringing phone. “Reed here,” she said.

  “Malia, this is Auntie. We just heard you arrested Damon.”

  “I know you think highly of him, Auntie, but he’s the beneficiary on Kiki’s life insurance policy, and money’s a big motive for murder.”

  “Money doesn’t motivate Damon. Open your eyes, girl. Can’t you see what a fine man he is?” Auntie paused, giving Malia a chance to respond. When she didn’t, Auntie asked, “How much is his bail? We’ll put our house up to get him out of that dreadful place.”

  Malia’s stomach rolled. Kiki’s parents had so much faith in him. She cursed herself for her personal reasons outside of duty that made her cling to the small hope that their loyalty was justified.

  “If he’s innocent, I’ll prove it. If he’s guilty—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat before continuing. “There’s no reason to put your house up. Bail hasn’t even been set. We haven’t made official charges, yet.”

  “Well, if you don’t want to end up with egg on your face, you’ll start looking for the real murderer before he kills again.” The line went dead. Malia couldn’t believe it. Auntie had hung up on her. She’d never known Auntie to do anything rude or unkind. Damon’s arrest must’ve really upset her.

  When the phone rang again, it was Malia’s dad. “Kopa’a just called me,” he said. “She thinks you’re so eager to get justice for Kiki you arrested the first suspect you got in your sights. Do us all a favor, and step down and let someone else handle this case. You’re too close to it. That’s bound to affect your judgment. Don’t send an innocent guy to prison just to get revenge.”

  Damn. I have no patience for this. There just might be certain benefits to being an orphan. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate your confidence.” He’d never even met Damon, and here he was sticking up for him over his daughter, a top-notch detective, who would do everything in her power to make sure she locked away the right man. Now, she was the one who wanted to slam down the phone. She drew on her thinning reserve of patience and maneuvered the call to a quick close to avoid hard feelings. Her guilt for being the twin who lived made her such a wimp around her parents. But being the obedient, grateful twin had worn thin. Treating her parents with kid gloves to make up for their loss was getting harder and harder – like a geyser forced to the surface by excessive ground pressure, one day her temper would blow. Dammit. Mom and Dad never understood me, never appreciated the emotions and driving needs behind my career choice. Why couldn’t they realize my emotional stability is tied up in my need to save potential victims before they ended up like my twin? They didn’t get that she had needs apart from theirs, and the priority to make their small corner of the world a safer place.

  Malia shook her head. Life as a female cop was hard enough without getting browbeaten by family. She didn’t want to deal with their misguided meddling in the name of love today. Or any day for that matter. And she was too tired to make sense of herself, or where all this unwanted interaction with family was heading.

  She got up and paced again. So, she was obsessed with her job. It was no one’s business. Putting in long and erratic hours and coming in on days off wasn’t that uncommon for a female cop. They had to work harder and longer than the guys just to keep the status quo. And most of the time for less money. After she’d joined the force, her identity had become tied to her badge and her goal to lock up killers and get justice for the victims. She couldn’t see that changing any time soon.

  Malia went to the window and stared out, seeing nothing. Did she have her killer? She wouldn’t be satisfied until she was one-hundred percent certain. Then she’d build the strongest case known in the history of the H.P.D. She wouldn’t even allow herself to think about what considering Damon as a possible killer did to her nerves.

  Chapter Nine

  Hoping to smooth things over, Malia stopped briefly to visit her parents. Big mistake. All they did was make her feel awful about locking up Damon. Her mom whimpered, “Your sister wouldn’t want you to do this.” How many times would Mom or Dad use that tired sentence to make her knuckle under? With lives at stake, their pressure wouldn’t work this time. The mustiness of dead roses in the vase on the mantle filled the room. Her mom always kept flowers until the petals dropped and shriveled. “What’s Melody got to do with this?”

  Her parents stared at Malia as if she were speaking a foreign language. She left quickly to keep from blowing up and saying things she’d regret.

  She stopped by Kiki’s parent’s place to leave a potted fern and tell them there were no hard feelings over Auntie hanging up the phone in her ear. Before she could get more than a few words out, Auntie said, “Your drive to solve the case is catching Damon in the crossfire.” Kopa’a wrung her hands. “Damon’s the kindest man we’ve ever met. How can you put a grieving man through this?”

  “You have to trust me, Auntie. I’m trained to sort this out. You’re going merely on blind faith and your love for Damon, not facts.”

  When Auntie shook her head and folded her arms, Malia knew the dear woman, usually so astute, was beyond reason when it came to Damon.

  Malia left with a wider gap between herself and Kiki’s parents than before. “Damn that Damon,” she muttered. “You’d think the man was a saint.”

  On the freeway, Malia gripped the steering wheel so hard her fingers ached. H-1 was a mass of cars, all racing to get home – some heading for an accident. She glanced at the speedometer and eased up on the gas pedal. As the highway curved, an orange, nearly blinding sunset reached out for Malia with fiery fingers, making her squint uncomfortably. An image of

  Damon’s self-confident face materialized in the brightness. She changed lanes as though a shift of place would wipe him from her view. Someone honked. “I put on my turn-signal. Are you blind?” What’s wrong with me? I never yell at other drivers. And I probably did cut the guy off.

  She massaged her aching forehead. Why had she set herself up with Mom and Dad like that? She must be a glutton for punishment. Why couldn’t everyone trust her to do her job? Even Ku had questioned her ability to handle this case. She was a good cop and didn’t deserve to have her competence challenged. The people close to her should know by now that she wouldn’t give up until all the pieces fit and the right man was behind bars. Malia sighed. It was her personal connection with Kiki that worried everyone. She wanted to defend her position, but how could she explain actions she didn’t fully understand herself? No matter what she said, and as illogical as it might be, what she wanted, more than anything, was to prove Damon innocent. Maybe that was the part that bothered Ku. He’d already decided that Damon had murdered his wife for the life insurance. Malia nibbled on her lower lip. A million dollars was a strong motive.

  When Malia arrived home, she locked the deadbolts, re-engaged the alarm, motion detectors and safety lights, then downed a glass of orange juice before running five miles on her treadmill. Afterwards, she showered and crawled into bed. A hard-driving day usually ended with her crashing, but words kept replaying in her head. Melody wouldn’t want you to convict an innocent man. Or put yourself in danger.

  It was after a run-in with her parents that she most missed her twin. Together they could laugh off the quarrels and restrictions. They were partners in mischief, best friends, sisters. Malia’s body began to relax, and her mind drifted into nothingness.An early morning call ripped Malia from a restless sleep. She glanced at the clock. 6:00 A.M.

  “There’s been another murder,” Ku said. “Same M.O. as Kiki’s.”

  Malia’s heart pounded. Damon couldn’t have done this – he was locked up. Her elation dimmed at her next thought. A serial killer was still on the loose.

  ****

  At the Diamond Seas Hotel, Mal
ia stepped around the yellow tape, and crossed the threshold of the sixth-floor room. Someone had turned the air-conditioning up, and the room felt like a meat locker. She caught the coppery smell of blood and spotted a hammer smeared with red. Then she saw the crumpled body and the long hair matted with crimson. As Malia pulled on her gloves, paper coveralls and shoe covers to protect any trace evidence, Ku and the crime tech rose from their crouched position and came toward her.

  “Did you ID her?” Malia asked.

  Ku nodded. “Nancy Patterson-Dawson. Management said she’s here for a reunion.”

  Malia recognized the first two names. The tag on, Dawson, probably meant she was married or divorced. Malia’s throat tightened. “We were in the same high school gym class.” Malia remembered after she’d outrun Nancy in a track meet, the girl had shaken her hand and said “outstanding run.” Then her smile had widened, and she had added, “But watch out next time.” That was Nancy, always a good sport, always competitive.

  Sadness and anger rose so quickly and fiercely within Malia that she wanted to smash something. Afraid of the tears and rage that might spew out if she did, she clasped her hands tightly. Even if her emotions exploded and blew her to bits, there was no way she’d let them show in front of Ku or any of the guys on the force.

  She took a breath. “Looks like we have the connection that ties the cases together,” she told Ku. “It isn’t real estate – it’s the reunion. All three women were classmates.” Had it been ten years since she and her classmates had their senior prom in this very hotel? Now, in two more nights, they would hold their reunion dinner-dance here. Malia rubbed her arms, sensing that the serial murders had only begun. “First, it was the reunion coordinator…” Had she thought it would be easier if she used cold, distancing words to refer to her best friend? She cleared her throat. “…then two classmates.”

  Ku’s frown deepened. “When the Dawson woman’s family finds out that this is the third murder with the same M.O.,” he said, “they’ll go ballistic. And there’s no way to keep the reunion-connection from leaking to the media. A tourist murdered in paradise is big news. There’s sure to be high-profile mainland coverage, and with the serial killer elements, it will probably bring the Feds nosing around.”

  “You have a good point. But we can’t worry about that. We have to concentrate all our efforts on coming up with an ID on this perp before he kills again.”

  She started to pace. The pressure was building, and now she had to deal with possibility that the Feds might want in on this. Lord, she didn’t need outside law enforcement hot-shots working their Hawaii turf. If the Feds got into the act, rather than spending her time solving the case, she’d be tripping over mainlanders while teaching them the highway and road systems – not to mention how to say Hawaiian street names.

  “I thought we had our man,” Ku said, shaking his head.

  Malia’s heartbeat quickened. Why did it take a homicide to make her believe in him? “We owe the man an apology.” Arraigning him had been premature. But with the police commissioner and the mayor breathing down her neck…

  Ku arched a brow as he always did when he disapproved. “Not so fast. Who’s to say he didn’t hire a hit just to muddy the waters?”

  “Come on, Ku. A man doesn’t kill two extra women to cover the murder of his wife.” Still, Malia wished the life insurance wasn’t in the equation.

  “What if we have two killers, Damon and a copycat?” Ku crossed his arms, looking smug.

  Malia braced herself on the door frame. “We have no evidence of that.”

  “Before we dismiss Shaw as a suspect, we’d better find out what he’s not telling us.”

  Something about Damon’s story bothered her as well. With city politics involved, and now a tourist among the dead, she didn’t dare let her only suspect completely off the hook until she was one-hundred percent sure of his innocence. One misstep and her boss would remove her from the case. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to be the one to solve these murders. And the one to help clear Damon. All she needed was one piece of trace evidence. Politics and family pressure put her between a precipice and a twenty-foot wave.

  “I’m asking Judge Gray to set bail today.” It had to be set within forty-eight hours of arrest, or Damon could walk. The mayor wouldn’t like that. However, if Damon was innocent, it wasn’t right to keep him locked up. Judge Gray would move the case up when she explained that Damon had been in jail during the third homicide, and that it looked like he was an innocent man.

  Ku gave her a funny look and went back to combing the unit for evidence.

  The image of Damon behind bars rocked her senses. She looked around. Ku and the other CSI investigators were busy. No one would miss her if she slipped away for a few minutes. She had to set the wheels in motion for Damon’s release.

  She jogged to the hotel’s business center. There, under the curious eyes of one of the two blonde clerks, Malia faxed a request for the release forms needed. In minutes she had them, filled them out, and faxed back. She thanked the clerk who had helped her and left the room number where she was working so the woman could send up the other faxes she was expecting.

  Waiting for an elevator to take her back up to the bloody scene in room 6005, she flipped open her cell phone and called Peggy Wong, the new reunion coordinator. “I need a list of reunion attendees.” Peggy promised to get it to her within thirty minutes. Next, Malia called Judge Gray’s office for a court order to obtain a printout of the hotel guests. The hotel’s privacy procedures could be a pain sometimes, but she knew the management and staff were doing their best to cooperate.

  By the time Malia returned to the crime scene, rushed and a little breathless, a tech from the CSU had information about the murder weapon. He pointed to the hotel’s name on the handle. “Hammer’s from hotel maintenance,” he said. “Probably stolen. Officer Siebel is downstairs talking to the supervisor. Maybe one of the crew spotted an unauthorized person in

  the area. Or if we’re lucky, the hotel camera got the hammer thief on film.”

  An hour later, Malia saw the tape. A gardener, with dark glasses and layers of sun-protective clothing that hid even his face, looked around, then grabbed the hammer from a maintenance cart. Malia didn’t believe for a minute that he was really a gardener. All she could tell for sure was that he was tall with wide shoulders and a build much like Damon’s. That was more than she knew yesterday. Seeing the thief on tape with the murder weapon strengthened her belief in Damon.

  But she still had questions. Why did Damon show up at the second murder? Was there a connection between Damon and the killer? Had Damon and Kiki known him as a couple?

  She ran the tape again. Was her perp part of the hotel staff? A guest? She knew better than to rule anything or anyone out this early in a case. She would look at each murder separately and follow all leads. In the past, cold-blooded murders had slipped through the legal cracks, but not this time. Her case would be so airtight that even Houdini couldn’t escape. If only she didn’t have this feeling that Damon was holding something back. The fact that even Ku noticed it deepened her concern.

  After Malia and Ku finished at the crime scene, they grabbed a quick lunch. Then, as they headed for the bail review hearing, Malia checked the list of reunion attendees. None of the names triggered a hunch. She jammed the list into her briefcase to study more closely later.

  Malia and Ku took a seat in the court room just in time to hear Damon’s case. Accompanied by a short squat attorney with a bulldog reputation, Damon stood tall, looking straight at the judge, certainly not the typical cocky or cowering prisoner. Malia was struck by the pride in that strong face, in his military-straight back. Nothing in his demeanor suggested guilt. If her boss and the mayor hadn’t been following the case with such intensity, would she have been so quick to charge Damon? The justification was strong – the insurance, finding the second body – and he was holding something back.

  He didn’t look any worse from hi
s night in jail, maybe a little rumpled. If he suffered any turmoil from this proceeding, it didn’t show. She waited for him to glance her way, but he didn’t. Her stomach knotted. The knots tightened more when Kiki’s parents slipped into the crowded court room. Auntie had called earlier to say they had mortgaged their house to secure bail. Their unrelenting faith made Malia wish hers was as strong. Unfortunately, over lunch, Ku’s arguments against Damon had shaken her belief. But she wanted more than anything to prove Damon was innocent. But to be sure of him, she had to uncover his secrets.

  Chapter Ten

  Damon left the court house, wishing he could disappear, but he had to face the media. He held his head high as he passed the throng of reporters, commenting only that he hoped the police would find his wife’s killer soon. He grabbed a newspaper from a coin machine, glanced at the headlines about the third serial murder. “Damn cops,” he muttered. “With this break in the case, why bail? I should be free.” He cursed and vigorously rolled up the newspaper to chuck into the trash. Just before he released it into the overflowing bin, he stopped. The more he knew, he thought tucking the paper under his arm, the better his chance of staying out of the line of fire. Another smart move might be to swing Malia to his side, especially if she was teetering on the edge. But it would take a hell of a lot of self-control; she was a pro at getting under his skin.

  Damon waved for a cab and went straight home. He needed a shower to wash off the jailhouse filth. He’d barely gotten dressed again when the door bell rang. Damon thought about not answering it, but the sound of a familiar female voice changed his mind. He had a ridiculous desire to see the beautiful detective, a desire that made no sense under the circumstances. Then he got angry at himself, and, in spite of his vow to win Malia over with kindness, he greeted the cops with a cold, “What do you want now?”