The Howling Cliffs (Sara Mason Mysteries Book 2)

by Mary Deal

  Searching through more films for the time period produced no further information concerning Poe Kilipaki. The police believed his recollection of falling asleep in his back yard that day and the neighbor who somewhat adequately vouched for him. Kilipaki was not questioned again.

  Other articles concerning Ezera Mauli, the other sex offender, said he served time for instances of uninvited touching and fondling. Though his many family members were at home sporadically, two members placed him at home all day the day Leia went missing. A third family member who worked nights said he had slept all day in another room and couldn't vouch for the man's whereabouts. He hadn't seen the suspect the entire day. The family had since left the island, taking Mauli with them.

  Sara's mind began to work. Poe Kilipaki could have been away from his house for a short time. Ezera Mauli's sleeping relative's statement seemed a bit unreal. How could a person have slept the entire day and not once seen or heard the suspect? “What time of the day did he go to sleep and when did he wake?”

  Clues were already starting to surface. Little threads that went nowhere, seemingly loose ends that looked to have no meaning left dangling, in plain sight waiting for a fresh pair of eyes. All loose ends led somewhere.

  Sara researched more reels till her neck ached and her eyes became scratchy and dry. Her curiosity unsatisfied, before leaving, she poked her head into the librarian's office. “Where were Kilipaki and Mauli the last time you heard anything about them?”

  “Kilipaki eventually moved to Honolulu, like that other offender's family… Mauli. I haven't heard anything about either one since.”

  A light went on in Sara's mind. Honolulu? She knew a retired police officer in Honolulu. His name was Thanh.

  Chapter 14

  In Hawaii, the rule was to leave all shoes outside the doorway. It showed respect for the home as well as the housekeeper. Those who didn't remove their shoes eventually dyed the floors and carpets red from the island's iron-rich soil. With strong trade winds, the red dust could waft in on the air and also be carried in on clothing. Sara easily slipped out of her sandals. She had dressed casually, having quickly acclimated to the island style everyday wearing of knee-shorts and trendy tee tops.

  Thanh van Thuy's house contained not a speck of red dirt considering the jalousies were cranked wide open allowing trade winds access. The house was surrounded by fruit trees which might deflect any windblown grit. The wood finishes on the furniture shined. What looked to be new yellow bamboo flooring throughout gleamed. The large old house was situated up the side of a hill in Kaimuki, mauka of Diamond Head on Oahu. The large living room was cluttered with beautiful vintage koa wood furniture and surprisingly, young people's items. To whom the surfing and dive magazines, cameras, DVDs, and variety of electronic gadgets belong?

  Perhaps Thanh was not feeling well. He appeared to ache as he moved around. Sara never knew his age but guessed him to be in his mid-to-late-sixties. He'd have been a teenager when he witnessed the carnage of his family and most of the Hmong; a frightened kid on a daring escape across the Pacific knowing leaving behind his dead family. Now he wore tan cotton pants and a tasteful Aloha shirt with Hawaiian canoe scenes and splashes of pale yellow Plumeria. “A lot of work for you and your wife.” Sara gestured around the room, assuming him having a big family according to the type of clutter.

  “No wife.” Thanh smiled grimly. “She died five years ago.” His voice was unemotional and matter-of-fact.

  Sara felt thoroughly embarrassed. “I'm so sorry.” To think she had recently spent three months in the Vietnam jungle with the man and hadn't taken the time to learn much about his personal life. “I'm sorry.”

  Pictures sitting on every surface and hanging on the walls indicated a close-knit family. Thanh's wedding photos were in the mix, as well as some of him in a crisp dark blue uniform with other Honolulu Police Officers. Several more showed him receiving commendations. Still others showed younger police officers with Thanh. Sara studied snapshots of young children. “Five boys and a girl.” She felt warmed knowing he had loved ones around him. Then she noticed that as the children's ages progressed in later photos, the last child, the girl, no longer appeared.

  Thanh stood close as she scrutinized the pictures. He gestured frequently and seemed both proud and sad for his family. “She had spina bifida.” He knew what she had noticed. “Died when she was six.”

  Sara couldn't help herself. She felt deflated and clutched his hand. “It was Agent Orange, wasn't it?”

  “All my kids.” He never showed emotion when he spoke, as if resigned to fate or perhaps having gotten past the heartache. “They all got something.”

  “The boys look healthy.”

  “Polydactyly.” He moved his hands about and then gestured toward his feet. “Six fingers and toes.”

  “Thanh? Each had six fingers and toes?' The more she heard about that war and its after-effects made her want to scream. Thanh didn't deserve this. No one did.

  “The oldest and the third had cleft palate too.” He pointed to a picture containing all the boys. “Our second had six toes only on his left foot.” He smiled then. “He got off easy.” He motioned to the other boys, mentioning their abnormalities.

  Sara looked sadly at the other images. The boys' hands, when legible in the photos, looked normal. “They all had surgery?” She peered closer at the pictures, feeling that since Thanh talked freely about them, she could also. She pointed to the first and third son. “They had surgery here too.” She touched her upper lip.

  “Too many surgeries and our daughter dying…”

  Sara remembered that once she learned why she experienced miscarriages, she stopped trying to have a child. She wondered why Thanh and his wife persisted in having children. “You kept trying?” Yet, she wouldn't voice what she was thinking.

  Thanh must have read her mind. “After five boys getting fixed up, my wife wanted a girl. Our daughter's defects, that's what killed my wife. She was so depressed… heart attack.” His expression saddened, but his voice was clear.

  Sara glanced back at the girl's photo. She had a full round Asian face, straight black hair and the biggest darkest eyes ever just below thick straight bangs. “She was precious.” Sitting on her mother's lap and wearing a child's Hawaiian mu'u mu'u dress, the girl's hands and feet were covered which was strange in a tropical climate.

  “Her condition made her too weak for surgeries to correct her limbs. Doc told us early on that spina bifida children don't live but a few years.” He looked away momentarily.

  A lump came up in Sara's throat. This man who lived at peace in a jungle home, whose life was destroyed by war, continued on with nightmares in the new world. Yet, as a veteran police officer, he was still finding ways to help others meet life's challenges. “I'm so sorry to hear about this, so sorry.” She wanted to hug the man, but he had moved away. Rushing to comfort him would be a gesture surely out of place.

  “You wanted to know about a couple of sex offenders?”

  Sara looked away from the pictures. “Oh, yes, please.” As he turned away, she reflected on the unfortunate life that had befallen such a gentle human being.

  Thanh led her into the kitchen and sat her at the table. “Let's eat while we talk story.”

  Sara hid a grimace. Talking about sex offenders over food wasn't her idea of a pleasurable meal, but Thanh being a former police officer probably gave him a strong stomach. “Thanh, why can't we go for coffee somewhere?”

  “No, home's better. We talk private. I fixed something ono when I knew you were coming.” Thanh was still giving.

  The Hue Stuffed Pancakes were made with a mixture of rice flour, eggs, and coconut milk. The stuffing consisted of mushrooms, green onions and bean sprouts with spices and shoyu. Sara curiously pulled open the edge of the wrap. “And crab?” She sniffed, savoring the tantalizing scent.

  “You eat with your nose too?” He smiled a big toothy grin.

  “Definitely.” She knew what he meant
and sniffed again. “Ginger and garlic too.” She took a bite of the delicacy.

  “Real crab. Not that dyed white fish stuff they pass off as crab.”

  Thanh spoke of having learned to cook when his wife's health began to fail. He talked about his service with the Honolulu Police Department. Through his modesty, Sara gleaned that he was a much decorated police officer. He shied away from dwelling on his wife's early death.

  “These pancakes are delicious!”

  “You wanted to know about two perverts.” Thankfully they had finished the meal. He cleared the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher. “Kilipaki hangs around. Mauli died in a drunken car crash.”

  “Did Kilipaki go on to molest any others?”

  “I knew you'd have questions. I've got something for you.”

  Chapter 15

  Thanh showed her into the den. He opened a desk drawer, produced a file folder and handed it to her. He gestured that she sit. Then he excused himself and left the room.

  Sara opened the file to many old notes, evidently made by Thanh, and many old newspaper clippings with more pen scribbling bleeding into the edges of the pages. Articles about Mauli were on the bottom of the pile and none too current. Recent articles on the top offered new information about Kilipaki. From what she could make out, Kilipaki had been investigated twice in Honolulu; once as a suspect in a molestation case, the other concerning the murder of a young girl. He might well have crossed that line.

  Thanh returned with a pitcher and two glasses filled with ice. “Guava juice.” He poured and offered her a glass. He lifted his glass and gestured toward the rear yard as the ice clinked. “From my trees.”

  Thanh was truly resourceful. Sara had a large open lot on Kauai. It was wonderful to have all that space, but since things grew so well in The Islands, she considered planting fruit trees and other edibles. She would need to be around all the time to maintain them and Birdie was just too elderly to be climbing ladders and pruning. When she had contemplated house expenses, her thoughts reverted to her scant beginnings, but due to good fortune in her work-life, she could now afford landscapers and yard help. She would plant a few choice fruit trees in her yard. “Delicious drink, Thanh. I've got a recipe for seven juice trop—”

  The sound of a helicopter approached, headed in the direction of the Ko'olau Range, most likely showing tourists the sights. It was a common sound for those who had never experience war.

  Thanh stiffened and his eyeballs rolled upward toward the back windows as the whup-whup-whup sound of the blades drew nearer. The ice in his glass rattled as his hand shook. He waited till the sound of the chopper blades faded into the distance, then filled his glass. “You really like it, huh?” He smiled nervously and sat down in the chair behind the desk. The tone in his voice surely hid what he might be feeling. He reacted like some of the veterans did in Vietnam.

  When some heard what could be a menacing sound, they seemed to freeze. Their eyes flicked back and forth as they scanned the area for the direction of the sound. It wasn't as if the group was in trouble or being assaulted there in the jungle, but a conditioned reflex of war that remained to perpetually hamper their peace of mind. Being in that same jungle again and hearing a sound they couldn't quickly identify brought it all back. In Thanh's case, with family and tribes people being slaughtered all around him, the gruesome scene and sounds of helicopters and bombs and the murdering Viet Cong surely left in indelible memory. The chaos was surely why he avoided being enveloped by smoke around the campfire when they were in the jungle.

  Sara swallowed hard and nearly broke into tears as she imagined Thanh in the middle of the carnage, seeing his family and relatives massacred and being unable to help. To escape he must have hidden. That may have been all he or anyone could do to remain alive, yet feeling hopeless. She looked down and kept her gaze focused on the file contents in front of her, hoping Thanh wouldn't see the moisture welling up in her eyes.

  Sara had nearly finished her juice and didn't want any more on top of lunch. She pushed her glass to the back of the desktop. “Did Mauli molest on Oahu before he died?”

  Thanh hadn't noticed her pushing her glass away and refilled it anyway. His hand still trembled. “One case. He was suspected of doing what he did in past cases, you know, fondling and stuff, but no additional evidence was found to disprove that he was with family when that girl Leia went missing on Kauai.”

  “And the Oahu case?”

  “The girl couldn't ID him.”

  “Or was told to stay out of it because she was a child? Were there other suspects?'

  “None.”

  “So he got off again.”

  Thanh shrugged. The cop in him may have suspicions about the man's case but wouldn't accuse unless the evidence pointed in that direction. “Crashed his car into a light pole.” The side of his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “One less pervert on the streets.”

  “You said Kilipaki's still around. Where does he live?”

  He stood, gazed out the window into his yard, and then turned to face her. “His family was in a run-down store front along the canal in Chinatown, but that whole area's undergone complete renovation. The family may have been forced to move.”

  Sara had a lot of questions to ask. “What was the disposition of Kilipaki's two cases?” Despite Mauli being dead, neither of these two men had clear alibis. At least in her judgment.

  “The molestation was dropped.” Thanh scratched his head absentmindedly. “In that case, the girl's parents didn't want the daughter subjected to public scrutiny.” Or maybe Thanh scratching his head was a way of saying he wondered why the parents wouldn't pursue the case.

  “What about the murder?”

  “Still open, went to cold case.” Thanh pulled his chair beside her. “The PD had their eye on Kilipaki in your case, too, but he's real old now.”

  “But aging doesn't change a pervert, right?”

  If the police focused on known child molesters like Kilipaki or Mauli but couldn't tie them to Leia's case, maybe they hadn't dug deep enough when considering other people as suspects. The police department couldn't have been that sloppy. Sara determined to investigate others who may have been connected in some way. The solution could be hidden in plain sight.

  The front door opened and a tall Asian man with a buff body hurried past the den doorway pulling off a tee shirt. He turned suddenly when he saw them and pulled the shirt back over his head. He walked straight over to Sara and offered both hands, which she clutched. “Been hoping to meet you. I'm Hien.”

  He had a nearly undetectable scar running off-center from the middle of the base of his nose to his upper lip. Sara glanced at his hands as she held them. He had scars showing from the side of the thumb down past the wrist. He saw her looking and freely showed both wrists. “Surgery scars. Makes me unique.” Then he turned to his father. “Got da kine lunch? I'm starving!”

  Thanh smiled suddenly, stood and shook Hien's hand. “Made some pancakes.”

  “Ono pancakes?” He turned to Sara and gestured toward his face with all fingers of one hand. “Ono pancakes. Broke da mouth!”

  Sara smiled, amused. That had to mean he loved his father's pancakes.

  Hien wasn't embarrassed about his scars and Sara wasn't so timid she couldn't look down at his bare feet. Before heading for the kitchen he showed her where a second little toe had been removed on both feet. Then, with an exaggerated smile, he danced out of the room as if offering a gesture of his normalcy.

  “He's got the most energy of all my kids.” Thanh proudly smiled. “Last year, got his General Contractor's license.

  “Didn't follow you into the police?”

  “Couldn't sit still long enough. Got too many big dreams. The other four did though.” Thanh looked utterly pleased.

  “Four sons in the PD?” Those had to be the younger men in the photos on the wall.

  “Hien, he's different, almost got into trouble a couple of times, takes too many chances.”
Then his expression went cold. He whispered behind his hand. “Got a few low-life friends.” Thanh's eyes showed disappointment for his first-born.

  Sara smiled and lowered her voice. “Too adventurous for a police officer's son?”

  Again quietly, he said, “Knows people from the top to the bottom. I just wish he'd bring the bottom up to a more respectable level.”

  What was Thanh saying? Could Hien be living a little fast? “Kept you on your toes when he was growing up?”

  Thanh expressed incredible perception and read her thoughts. “Once was friends with a kid who committed a rape. Hien has a taste for the wild side… always wants to know about law enforcement, but never joined the force.” He shrugged it off but his expression showed he worried about his son.

  Sara's intuition, coupled with what Thanh had just said, made her wonder if Hien needed to know the law in order to stay one step ahead of it. Why else would he need to know about police procedures? The uneasy exaggerated look he gave her as he two-stepped out of the room said he was merely putting on a show, as if hiding something, or drawing attention away from something else.

  Sara did not wish to continue the conversation of Hien's questionable personality. To do so would be to pry. She didn't wish to intrude in private family matters. “Oh, about Kilipaki…?”