Mr. Soo carried a large covered bowl of steamed rice. “Annie, Mrs. Soo thought you might be able to use this since you would probably be feeding a lot of folks, so she prepared this before the power went out.”
“Mr. Soo, this is a very appreciated gift from Mrs. Soo. Please thank her and ask her to come over and join us for a meal.”
Annie knew Mrs. Soo would not join the group on the lanai, but it was proper to extend the invitation.
“What’s for breakfast, George?” Mr. Soo asked.
“Well, how about bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast?”
“Sounds great, lots of bacon!” Mr. Soo exclaimed.
“Be right with you, Mr. Soo, as soon as I finish getting Annie’s breakfast.”
“Dewey, what got you here so early this morning?” Mr. Soo asked.
George, Annie, and Dewey all looked at each other and realized they would have to bring Mr. Soo up-to-date on the tragedy that Annie had discovered.
“Mr. Soo, we have some horribly sad news,” Dewey said, feeling he would be the one retelling the story. As Dewey related the gruesome details of the murders of Mr. and Mrs. Okamoto, Mr. Soo sat and looked from Dewey to Annie to George, hoping one of them would tell him this was a miserable joke. He realized by the look on everyone’s faces, the tragedy was real: the Okamotos had been murdered.
Mr. Soo got up from his chair and walked to the end of the lanai and stared out toward the market. His shoulders heaved, and he offered a prayer for the safe journey of the souls of the Okamotos. Never an emotional man, tears ran down his cheeks. He and Mr. Okamoto had shared time almost every afternoon sitting on the market’s veranda, talking, often venturing into the Chinese-Japanese War. They were old friends, and Mr. Soo would miss him greatly.
Turning back to the group on the lanai, he said, “I’m so saddened by the loss of my friends. They were good, hardworking people. Does the sheriff have any idea who might have committed this crime?”
“Annie and I came here as Danny was taping off the crime scene. The sheriff questioned us both and made notes of the time when I went into the market and talked with Mrs. Okamoto. The sheriff will be here and let us know the latest,” Dewey said.
“I invited him and Danny to come and have breakfast,” Annie said. “Mr. Soo, I think you should go home and invite Mrs. Soo to come over here where she is safe among us or at least be sure she is securely locked in your home.”
“Yes, I’ll do that. She will not join us but will secure herself in our home.”
When Mr. Soo finished eating, he left the group, assuring them he would be back shortly.
Annie, George, and Dewey were sitting around the table, George finally eating breakfast, when a gust of wet wind came roaring into the west side of the lanai.
“Quick, Dewey,” George said, jumping up and running to the bamboo curtains rolled up under the overhanging lanai awning. “We’ll get these down, and that will keep the wind and rain out. Didn’t expect it to change direction. I thought it would continue to come in off the ocean.”
George and Dewey unrolled the bamboo shields, both of them getting soaked. Annie went inside and brought out towels.
“This is going to be one of those times when we all will end up wet no matter how hard we try to stay dry.”
CHAPTER 8
The sheriff motioned to Danny, as he was finishing up taping off the market area, to come up to the veranda. “Danny, we’re pretty much on our own here. Doc Tan is stuck in Hana, and the road is out. The county sheriff and coroner can’t get here either because of the roads being flooded. I see the Okamotos’ refrigerator section is working. Guess their generator kicked in, so we will want to keep that fueled. You and I need to get the bodies into that unit,” the sheriff said.
“Sheriff, I’m not sure we should move the bodies. What about any potential evidence?”
“Son, in this humidity, those bodies will be in pretty bad shape before long. We have to take some type of action.”
“I’ll go check on the fuel for the generator, and I guess you’re right, we’ll have to move the bodies. Sure hope I’m up to the task, Sheriff,” Danny admitted reluctantly.
“First, I’ll take lots of crime-scene photos. The county sheriff was really specific we do that. Then we get the bodies inside the refrigeration unit, we dust for fingerprints, and we get elimination prints from Annie and Dewey. Worse, we need to get prints from the Okamotos. Lord, Danny, I wish we had ourselves a doctor. I’m not sure I can properly print a dead person. I’ve never done that before,” the sheriff admitted.
“Damn it!” the sheriff exclaimed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to remember. Dewey said Mrs. Okamoto told him the young man that dropped them off had shared the spotlight with their son at the event on Oahu. He must be a doctor too. He and his wife are staying at Joe Wong’s rental. I’m going down to get George, and I’ll bring the doctor here. George can take the wife over to his place.”
“OK, boss,” Danny said, feeling better, knowing he would not have to help in moving the Okamotos. “I’ll fuel up the generator and lock the market. We never know when some fool might cross the tape and wander in to satisfy his curiosity.”
“Great. Danny, also call Charlene and keep her updated on what we both are doing. She needs to know everything that is going on in case anyone from the county calls. I’m headed to George’s.”
Before crossing the street, the sheriff stopped at his truck and laid his Stetson on the back seat and grabbed a baseball cap from the glove compartment. Between the wind and the rain, keeping his Stetson dry would not be possible. He went down the slick stairs, turning a shoulder against the wind and rain. Climbing up the lanai steps, the sheriff was assaulted by the smells of breakfast; his stomach growled.
“Sheriff, ready for some breakfast?”
“No, George, I’m here to ask for your help. I’ve got to go to Joe Wong’s rental and take the young man back to the market with me, and I would like you to bring his wife over here with you folks. Dewey, you mentioned that he and Kim had been honored together so that must mean he’s a doctor. If so, he’s the only one left in Paia. The county coroner can’t get here ’cause the roads are flooded. George, get your rain gear on. We’re going to get rained on making our way to the Wong place.”
“OK, Sheriff. Annie, get the sheriff some coffee while I get ready. Dewey, come give me a hand,” George said, nodding at Dewey and motioning him into the house.
Dewey looked puzzled but followed George. “Glad to help, but what can I do?”
“I want you to take this gun to protect Annie. You never know what might happen. I’ll be safe with the sheriff.” George undid the cargo pocket on his shorts and passed the handgun to Dewey. “Do you know how to use one of these?”
“My mom shot skeet, and she taught me.”
“Skeet shooting? That seems an odd sport for a Mom.”
“Mom was a tad neurotic. She said she either shot skeet or Dad. Sadly enough, she meant it.” Dewey took the gun, checking to be sure the safety was on, and slipped it in the pocket of his shorts. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Annie. Be careful. It’s rough out there.”
George went to the kitchen for his rain gear, and Dewey went back to the lanai.
Annie made sure the sheriff drank a glass of orange juice before he got his coffee. “All that’s happening and in this weather, you need to keep up your blood sugar. We all need you, Sheriff.”
The sheriff drank his orange juice and sipped hot coffee, waiting for George to reappear. The orange juice helped to stop his growling stomach. “Danny and I will be back for breakfast as soon as we can. We’ll bring the young doctor too. I know you’ll take care of his wife.”
George came back onto the lanai dressed in rain gear. The sheriff ushered him away from Annie and Dewey. “George, time is crucial. Things are getting a bit gamy back at the market, if y
ou get my meaning. I’ve got to get the doctor there right away and get the Okamotos in the refrigeration unit. We can go over to the Wong house by the rock walkway. There are rope rails on each side, and even though the slabs will be slick, we’re both pretty strong and should be able to withstand the wind and water. I’ll take the doc up by the road and you bring his wife to your house by the driveway. How does that sound? Are you OK with that plan?”
George thought for a second and replied, “Well, not exactly OK, but it’s the fastest option. Let’s go before the weather gets any worse.”
George turned to Annie. “Honey, don’t worry. The sheriff and I will be careful, and we’ll back as soon as possible. Dewey has every means for your protection, understand?”
“Yes, I understand.” Annie hugged George tightly and said quietly, “Be careful. One scare today was plenty!”
“I’ll be careful, sweetheart,” George said, giving Annie a peck on her forehead.
George and the sheriff went down the lanai steps and up the small slope to the rock walkway leading to the Wong house. Annie said a silent prayer for their safety.
The rain made the rock steps slicker than either man had anticipated; both gripped the rope rails tightly and looked down at every step. When the weather was good, the steps carved out of the lava rock cliff were easily accessible, especially when using the set of ropes, one on the inside wall and the other along the outside walkway. The view from the walk up to the Wong residence was spectacular and far enough away from the ocean that water from breaking waves did not hit the walkway. This, however, was navigation of the walkway during a storm, and the sheriff and George were having trouble keeping their balance while moving upward.
The sheriff realized too late he was wearing the wrong type of shoes. Cowboy boots on the slick lava rocks were making him slip even more than George was experiencing in his hiking boots, giving him traction, and yet in the wind, he too slipped occasionally.
“Damn!” the sheriff exclaimed as he slipped backward. George placed a hand between his shoulder blades and caught him before he fell.
They were almost to the lanai steps when the toe of the sheriff’s boot hit an upraised slab of rock; his heel slipped, and the sheriff quickly went down and under the outside rope rail. Dangling precariously by one hand gripping the rope rail, he found himself swaying on the cliff and looking at a drop to the beach, bouncing him off a high wall of lava rock. George quickly swung around and pulled some slack in the inside rope, twisting it around his wrist, holding it tightly in his hand. With his other hand, he grabbed the sheriff’s arm and began hauling him upward. The sheriff looked up and saw George motion with his head to try and turn around to face the cliff. The dead weight mixed with the wind and water was hindering George in bringing the sheriff back upon the walkway.
The sheriff reached with his right boot for some type of rock outcropping without luck. He did the same with his left boot and found a small ledge; he placed his boot on the ledge, looked up at George, nodded, and swung his body around to face the lava wall. As he did this, a jutting piece of lava rock cut through his trousers and gashed his upper thigh, sending blood down his pant leg. With the change in leverage, George pulled the sheriff upward and brought him back up under the rope rail. George saw the blood on the sheriff’s pant leg but said nothing. There was no time to stop; they had to get to the lanai.
They reached the lanai without further incident; George held the sheriff around his midsection and helped him up the stairs. The sheriff turned to George and said, “You saved my life, George, and I owe you big time.”
“Forget it. You would have done the same for me.”
The sheriff sat down on a patio chair, and George looked inside. He saw a young woman asleep on the sofa and yelled for her to wake up. With a start, Layla woke to find a rain-soaked man pounding at her lanai door. She let out a small whimper and cowered into the sofa.
George yelled at her to be heard over the wind. “My name is George Boone! I live next door. Sitting on your patio chair with a bad cut on his leg is the sheriff. We need your husband right away.”
Layla hesitantly got up from the sofa and looked on the lanai. She saw a man sitting there with a bloody pant leg, a smile on his face, and a badge in his hand.
“I’ll get my husband. He’s asleep in the bedroom.”
Layla ran from the living room to the bedroom.
She shook Kyle. “Wake up. The sheriff is on the lanai, and he’s injured. Get your bag.”
Kyle sat up, got out of bed, put on the shorts Layla tossed at him, and grabbed his medical bag. He ran to the lanai and saw the sheriff and George, both rain soaked.
“What the heck happened to you two?”
“We came up the outside walkway,” George said. “I live in the house across the road from yours. At the time, it seemed like the best and quickest way to get to you, but on reflection, it doesn’t seem to have been a very good idea. Can you fix the sheriff up? We need to get your wife over to my house and the sheriff has to take you up the road to Okamoto’s Market.”
“I’m Kyle Richfield, and this is my wife Layla,” Kyle said as he took out scissors and cut away the top part of the sheriff’s trousers.
“Whew, looks like I’m going to be showing a little leg here,” the sheriff said, grinning.
George was taking off his rain gear and wet shoes, and he turned to Layla and said, “You need to get a bag of things for both you and your husband. You’ll be staying at our place until the storm blows over.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary. We’ll be fine here.”
“No, Mrs. Richfield,” the sheriff said firmly. “Someone will brief you once you get to George’s.”
Layla and George went into the house. Kyle cleaned the wound on the sheriff’s thigh and told him he was going to put in some butterfly stitches. “I’ll give you a shot so you won’t feel the stitching, but you are going to have one sore leg for a couple of days.”
In the bedroom, Layla lifted an expensive piece of Hartman luggage onto the bed. “We haven’t actually unpacked yet, so I’ll just put some of our things together and I’ll be ready.”
George eyed the luggage and said, “We are going outside, across the back driveway to my house in the midst of a possible hurricane. I really don’t think that is the proper luggage for the trip. Do you have a duffel bag?”
“Of course not. We don’t travel with duffel bags,” Layla said, somewhat indignantly.
“Lord!” George exclaimed and walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He looked under the sink and grabbed a roll of thirteen-gallon trash bags then went back to the bedroom. “Put your things in one or two of these bags, then we’ll place that bag inside another one. Tie it tightly, and it should make the trip without getting wet.” He offered the roll to Layla, who took it begrudgingly.
She began sorting through the items of clothing, selecting things for a couple of days. She asked George to leave the room, and she would change into something more appropriate.
George exited the bedroom, commenting under his breath about snooty rich Easterners. He went to the lanai to check on Kyle’s progress.
“How’s it going out here, guys?”
“Just about finished,” Kyle said. “I’ll help the sheriff up the road to the market. I’m saddened and shocked at what happened to Mr. and Mrs. Okamoto. We just met them yesterday evening. They were the parents of our good friend, Kim. I realize you haven’t been able to notify Kim yet, but when you can, I would like to be the one to break the news.”
“Son, I have no problem with that, but we all need to get going. Things are getting worse,” the sheriff said as a gust of wet wind blew onto the lanai.
George went back inside and found Layla sitting on the bed dressed in cutoffs, T-shirt, and sneakers; he had to admit he was impressed she had used such good judgment in her clothes. “What type of rain gear d
o you have?”
“We did not expect to run into this kind of weather. The only thing either one of us has is an umbrella.”
“I can understand why this is not the type of weather expected on a trip to paradise, but your umbrella wouldn’t last five seconds in this wind. Let’s see what we can come up with using trash bags. You’ll probably get your legs and shorts wet.” George looked at Layla, hoping she would not go into hysterics or something.
Layla stepped into a bag, making a hole for both of her legs, tying it at her waist. She put the other one over her head, tying it loosely around her neck, and made openings for her arms. She put on a souvenir baseball hat that said Oahu, turned to George, and asked, “Will this work?”
“You won’t receive a nod from the fashion police, but it’s an excellent choice. Let’s get your clothes double packed and outside. I’ll put my gear back on for as little good as it did,” George said, looking down at his rain-soaked clothes.
George and Layla went back to the lanai; the wind was howling even louder, the rain was coming down in a solid sheet, and the waves were huge and pounding high on the lava rocks beneath the lanai.
“We’ve got to leave now, folks,” the sheriff said.
“Take care, you guys, and come to the house when you’re done. Breakfast will be waiting.”
George led Layla down the lanai steps, trying to balance the two garbage bags full of clothes. “Layla, you’re going to have to help me here. I want to keep an arm on you, and I can’t carry two bags and do that too.”
Layla took the lightest bag that George offered, pulled her cap down, and headed toward the driveway. George noticed that neither she nor Kyle had said a word to one another, and he thought that was strange.
George walked to the left side of Layla to shield her from the brunt of the wind and rain, although staying dry would not be an option for her. It seemed like it took them forever to make it to the lanai stairs. Once at the top of the lanai, Annie handed Layla a large bath towel and helped her out of her trash bags. She then went over and began toweling George off.
Maui Murders Page 5