Unhooking her small flashlight from her vest, Emily turned the beam toward a dark cave. Several eels shot back into the darkness staring suspiciously at the intruders of the deep. The added light illuminated the brilliant rainbow colors of the fish around them, causing a stir of frenzy.
Bursting into view with a neon yellow mask, the third diver scattered the fish and gestured to Emily and Rick to follow as he took the lead position. Matt Compton had come highly recommended from the local hotel as a wonderful guide from the Kauai Sport & Scuba Adventure. They were lucky to find that Matt was available on such short notice because there had been a cancellation.
Emily glanced down at her pressure gauge to see how much airtime she had left. It read: 20 minutes. Losing all sense of time, she didn’t want to rush back to the surface if she didn’t have to.
Before she looked up, Matt had squeezed her arm to urge her to move with him. The strength of his strong hand and clear blue eyes seemed to indicate extreme focus and that he usually got what he wanted.
Emily checked to where Rick was and he seemed to be enjoying some of the fish hiding in crannies between several types of coral and anemones that resembled the variety of colors on a painter’s palette.
Pumping her legs faster, Emily followed Matt away from the immediate reef. The jagged and varying continuity of the marine architecture lessened and the structure of actual buildings and the inner inhabitant rooms of a ship came into view from below. Fish disappeared into some of the darkened caverns and age cracks of the remnants of sunken vessels.
It reminded Emily of the courageous backdrop for treasure seekers. Old pieces of pottery and metal objects that were once the workings of a kitchen scattered under the sandy debris, they acted as new homes for various sea critters.
Movement to Emily’s right caused her body to jerk and spin toward the large object – ready for impact. In her mind, she immediately thought of a shark. She prepared herself for the fight or flight reaction due to her dangerous predicaments in the past.
Gracefully swimming just ten feet away, a green sea turtle coasted by with amazing details of greenish yellow patterns on its flippers and around its reptilian face. It was at least four feet long. The turtle took notice of Emily and Matt, but veered on effortlessly in search of algae. In the back of Emily’s mind, she remembered that the green sea turtles were once an endangered species. It was inspiring to see this aquatic creature thriving around the reef.
Matt approached her with a look of wonder on his face. His face mirrored what she was feeling at the moment, even though it was just through the eyes behind a scuba mask.
Emily descended toward part of the wreckage and noticed that an item seemed out of place, something shiny. She took her dive knife out and dug around the small silver looking object. A knife appeared. Not an antique knife, but a nasty looking bowie knife with a jagged edge. She contemplated whether or not to take it with her, but her interest turned elsewhere.
Emily realized that she hadn’t seen Rick in several minutes and looked behind her. He wasn’t in sight. Matt who held a beautiful conch shell in his hands, struck a silly pose, and once again interrupted her thoughts.
* * * * *
The fancy colors hypnotized Rick as he effortlessly glided from one area of the reef to another. He took his time enjoying the scenery before catching up to Emily. This was officially only his fourth dive, still a beginner, but he loved every minute of it.
His chest felt heavy and he found it difficult to breath. The regulator stopped working.
In a panic, he looked to his pressure gauge.
Empty.
How could that be?
The sensation of doom rushed in.
Rick’s mind raced in several directions, he had an hour of air when they were getting their gear together and he was sure of it. Thoughts of the buddy system of breathing came to mind, but he was alone.
Where’s Emily?
Relax.
He kicked upward toward the surface and tried not to fixate that he was out of air. The sunlight became brighter and more focused.
One through the surface and gasping for air, Rick treaded water and regained his composure. He knew that Emily would be worried. His pulse settled and he could concentrate better.
Suddenly two heads popped up to the surface.
“You okay?” Emily’s voice was strained, but relieved to see him. She pushed her mask farther up on her head.
“My air ran out.” His voice slightly rattled.
“How could that have happened? We still have about fifteen minutes.” Emily looked to Matt.
“Sometimes there are malfunctions with the gauges, I’ll have a look at it when we get back.” He looked at Rick. “Scary experience and you handled it like a pro.” He beamed from ear to ear.
“Thanks.” Rick replied, still unnerved.
Matt moved closer to Emily and Rick. “You guys okay to get back in through the shore break?”
Rick quickly replied. “No problem.” He took the lead and began swimming closer to the beach.
The shore break was about thirty feet from the beach and the waves were small. The divers chose a simple exit and once through the waves, removed their fins, and walked carefully to the beach.
With her free arm, Emily hooked it around Rick’s waist and gave him an affectionate squeeze.
Matt jogged up to the couple and kept pace. “So what do you guys want to do now?” He said with a joking tone trying to lighten the mood.
* * * * *
Chapter Ten
Wednesday 1045 Hours
The acrid smell permeated the air around the body even though it was out in the open. There was no mistaking that foul odor – the smell of death. Before the remains began the complicated process of decomposition, the early, visible death clues were pungent as well as horrifying.
The blood had pooled around the body as far as two and half feet from what resembled a woman’s torso. The body, tied at the wrists and ankles, left no other choice or means of escape. It was obvious that the victim suffered, hopefully for only a short period of time.
The numerous stab wounds, jagged and punctured, left a monstrous aftermath of gristle. The woman’s fixed expression, glazed eyes, and slightly open mouth lent to the gruesome act. It was as if she wanted to impart something to the investigation, but couldn’t form her thoughts and sentences.
Sergeant Lani Candena had never witnessed firsthand a crime scene of this magnitude; only textbook examples and stories told from seasoned Honolulu detectives. From everything he had read, when the crime scene and victim were the result of overkill, it was generally someone they knew. Another thought came to mind – a serial killer.
Lani pulled on a pair of plastic gloves, knelt down, and examined the knots around the wrists. Tied in an efficient fashion, neat and tidy, the knots showed perfectly formed, well practiced loops.
To tie knots proficiently and accurately, Lani surmised the victim had been drugged. His eyes moved up the arms searching for any signs of a needle mark. He found what he was looking for, a small red dot on the back of her left arm.
The medical examiner would run a toxicology report to see what or if there’s anything out of the norm in the victim’s system.
Keeping his eyes trained on any clues and what he could deduce from the body, Lani noticed a fairly hefty diamond on her left hand. Robbery obviously wasn’t the objective.
Patrol tried to confirm the identity of the woman by canvassing hotels for anyone reported missing. He knew that new information would surface soon.
Lani stood up and could feel his lower back give a twinge of tightness, not because he overextended himself, but because he held his breath and didn’t want to take in the full reality of the murder.
A couple of the patrol officers meandered around like gawkers on the freeway after a fatal car crash. He knew that the six police detectives assigned to KPD took their time trying to figure out whose turn it was to cover this case.
A
bout six feet from the body displayed a disturbing art piece left by the hands of the killer. Lani immediately recognized the grotesque idol and it indicated that it wouldn’t be the last victim on the island. He may not have been one hundred percent Hawaiian, but the stories handed down through the generations and told to scare youngsters from venturing too far after dark, made a lasting impression well into adulthood.
The morbid face stared back at him. It mocked him with an evil motive and dared him to uncover its dark secrets.
Lani glanced at the crew of onlookers, but they were drawn to the horrific display of the dead body rather than the hideously childish statue that held all the answers. There had been some barefoot prints around the crime scene, but now the scuff of boots and flip-flops masked any sense of a comparable impression. The body and the creepy statue were the only things that linked the killer and victim.
Lani directed one of the police officers to photograph and carefully dismantle the evidence of the makeshift head before transporting to the lab. “Take several photos from different angles before touching anything, understand?”
The officer shrugged and took his time to get more evidence bags from the van.
Lani stood over the assembled head. He towered over the helmet and wickerwork, which was crafted from what appeared to be a coconut husk. Several strands of brown hair blew gently in the breeze curling up from the ends. There was no doubt that the strands belonged to the victim, but the lab would confirm his suspicions. The jagged shark’s teeth protruded from its red mouth resembling a killer clown in a science fiction movie.
As Lani examined the idol, he knew what the killer’s intent was for the murder and why. It was an offering for something sinister and evil, something to give the killer more power – at least in his mind. This archaic display was the representation of a Hawaiian god of sorcerers of black magic and its intent to possess unsuspecting people. It was thought that this god could possess people at will and get them to do whatever deeds he wanted.
This offering was a huge clue to finding the killer.
Lani scanned every inch of the immediate scene, raised an eyebrow, pulled out his cell phone and quickly snapped a couple of shots for his own record. No one noticed the subtle click of a camera phone at the crime scene, and no one cared.
Lani wasn’t the investigating detective, but he wanted to see the crime scene first hand and not what the rumor mill perpetuated. He took one last look at the scene and made a couple of notes on his small spiral notebook. He slipped the scribbled thoughts and opinions back into his top pocket just as the two assigned police detectives arrived at the scene.
Detectives Simpson and Ling were the two most hard-nosed cops on the force. Even though it was an island paradise, a place that was tranquil and extremely low on violent crime, they treated everything like a big city crime wave. Once they had an idea of who and how a crime was committed, they stuck to their investigation not matter what new evidence was introduced.
Lani quickened his pace toward his patrol car and opened the driver’s door.
Detective Ling smugly chortled to his partner. “Well, the case must be already solved now with Sergeant Candena hot on the trail of the killer.”
“He must already have a list of suspects”, replied Detective Simpson with a sneer.
Lani ignored the antagonizing remarks and shut the car door. He learned how to let such comments roll off his back since he was a child. It amazed him how the two best detectives never had any “official” training in homicide investigation, or had ever taken a single course in serial homicide – much less closed any homicide cases on the island.
* * * * *
After a morning of swimming and scuba diving, Emily watched Rick stuff half a pineapple muffin into his mouth as they sat at an outdoor café table.
The subtle breeze blew through the open patio.
She laughed. It was a heartfelt laugh and it felt good to her. She could get used to being on a beautiful, tropical island and relaxing. She racked her brain, but couldn’t think of any place they had tracked down a child abductor that made her feel this way.
Rick leaned forward. “What are you thinking?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
“And?”
“And? You already know the answer.” Emily giggled.
“The island looks good on you.” He kissed her neck.
A waitress bussed a nearby table where two local ladies were seated, and poured two more cups of coffee before she left.
The ladies chatter resonated in hushed tones, but the word “killer” stuck in the air.
Emily perked up and strained to listen as she glanced at Rick. He was equally alert to the conversation.
After taking a sip of coffee and setting the cup down on the table, the dark haired woman leaned forward. “It’s true the police are at the crime scene right now on the south east area. That poor woman was murdered.”
A larger woman with a flared dress and curly hair replied, “They think it may be a serial killer.”
“What would a serial killer be doing here on Kauai?”
The robust woman shook her head. “It was only a matter of time before that kind of evil invaded our island.”
Rick grabbed Emily’s hand, leaned closer to her and whispered. “What do you think? Idol gossip or two many episodes of CSI?”
“Let’s check it out.” Emily took one last sip of her coffee and slid her plate with a half eaten breakfast aside.
Rick pushed his chair back and rose to meet Emily face to face. “What are the odds?”
“I don’t know about odds, but if there is a serial killer the cops are in trouble here.”
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
Wednesday 1157 Hours
The inevitable call came into the Kauai police department just barely an hour ago. A call that no one should ever have to make to report a loved one missing and who never came home the previous night. Many people deny the worst-case scenario of murder, but it still looms in the subconscious mind only to surface when there are no other choices.
Lani hated this part of the job notifying someone that his or her loved one was dead. It was even worse when the loved one was butchered. He was ordered by the investigating detectives to take a statement from the fiancé. It disturbed him why they didn’t want to conduct the interview personally, but they were too busy getting ready for the press conference. A murder was big news. There would be many press conferences as the investigation went stale and then ultimately cold. If they needed to speak with the bereaved boyfriend, the detectives would follow up later.
Pulling the patrol car into an available hotel employee’s space, Lani grabbed his notebook along with a snapshot of the lifeless face of his fiancé for identification, as he walked up the inviting walkway into the hotel lobby. He kept his attention on his important task and ignored stares and even gapes from passing tourists. It was either because he was wearing the typical blue uniform or possibly because he was a large, muscular man that looked more like an action movie star than a cop.
The bright eyed, enthusiastic tourists dressed in a myriad of shorts and colorful shirts scuttled about the day filled with swimming, snorkeling, sightseeing, and relaxation, oblivious that there may be a serial killer hunting his next unsuspecting victim.
The tropical breeze blew through the large garden entrance and swirled into the concierge area with the sweet smell of island ginger and pikake blooms. All plant life, festooned leaves, and flowers grew to enormous sizes on the island. To the untrained eye, the foliage looked like excellent plastic imitations carefully placed to confuse even the most seasoned master gardener. The meandering guests wobbled slightly from craning their heads as they marveled at the magnificent backdrop.
Lani eyed the young Hawaiian woman behind the lobby desk, petite as she wore a pink lei around her neck; he approached her and tried to soften his harsh, professional stare.
“Hello.” He said.
Her
well-orchestrated smile brightened as she spoke. “Aloha officer. What can I do for you?”
“Please tell me which room Mr. Richard Stillman is staying in.”
“Oh.” Her delicate face turned cloudy with the realization of Lani’s grim business. “Yes, he’s in room 2144. Just go through the lobby make a left and you’ll find the elevator to take you to the twenty-first floor.
“Thank you.”
Lani didn’t wait for any more pleasantries and wanted to get to the safe haven of a hotel room, away from the curious and often annoying gawks. He was used to it, but today it bothered him more than usual.
He quickly walked around the main desk and down a modular hallway with ferns as tall as three stories. The trickle of a pond filled with water plants that gently rolled over a waterfall marked the distance to the outside elevator.
Pushing the call button, Lani waited and fidgeted, watching the floor numbers count down to the lobby.
The elevator doors opened.
Empty.
Lani breathed a sigh of relief because he didn’t want to wait anxiously for the twenty-first floor with a group of inquiring folks asking what he was doing at the hotel. The distinct chime of the floor levels climbed as he gazed outside, not looking at anything in particular.
He thought about the crime scene and everything his textbooks explained.
How could the reality of a criminal investigation be so different?
Lani knew that it was a serial killer and there would be more bodies.
What would this mean for tourism? What would it mean for KPD?
His answer to his questions was a loud ding as the elevator doors opened. It was quiet. Obviously everyone was well on their way to fun in the sun.
Quickly looking at the room numbers posted at the corner, he found the directions to 2144.
Dark Mind Page 5