by Toby Neal
Adelia nodded. “They gave us a bucket to go to the bathroom in, and a gallon jug of water, and they left us there and locked us in. We had some blankets, so we just huddled together and slept.” She covered her face with her hands. “But in the morning, the main guy and two of his sidekicks came back. And then, they raped Mom, Joanie and Ms. Gutierrez right in front of me and Sarah. Told us to watch and learn, because we’d be next when we got where we were going.”
“This main guy. What did he look like?”
“He was darker than the usual Hawaiian, but he had Hawaiian tattoos. He also had an accent,” Adelia said. “About six foot tall. Muscles. Not too old, but not young either.”
Lei made notes as her scalp prickled again. “What made you think he wasn’t actually Hawaiian?”
“The accent. The color of his skin. Some of the other guys were, though.” Adelia stared down at her feet. “It’s hard to talk about it.”
Tears slipped down Sarah’s cheeks and she touched Lei’s arm. “I want to see Mom. Is she okay?”
“She’s going to be,” Lei said. “We’ll take a break now. I have enough for the moment.” She turned off the recorder and fetched the lunch tray, setting it down in front of them on the exam table. “If you feel up to it, eat.”
Adelia and Sarah nodded, and lifted the metal lids off of the food as Joanie watched. Delicious smells swirled up. Adelia handed Joanie a plate and silverware. All three girls dug in, the needs of their bodies, temporarily at least, overcoming mental and emotional trauma.
The girls weren’t the only ones who needed a break.
Lei’s knees were wobbly as she headed for the door. “I’m going to talk to the nurse, see if I can get word about your mom and how she’s doing. Hopefully you can be together soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
An hour or so later, Lei stood in the doorway of Emma Peterson’s room as the three girls ran in to see their mother. Sarah was the only one to fling herself on Mrs. Peterson, embracing her mother through the bedding and bandages that swathed her. The other two grabbed chairs and pulled them close, one on either side—but all four of them were crying, noisy sobs that made Lei glad that the patient bed beside Mrs. Peterson was currently empty.
The same nurse who’d helped with the girls’ exams touched Lei’s shoulder. “I met with Mrs. Peterson’s medical team and got briefed so I can tell you what’s going on with her. She has to stay overnight—she has a couple of cracked ribs, probably from beatings, and a sprained ankle. That gunshot wound, while in the arm, was pretty close to a major vein—so the doc wants her kept overnight for rest and observation.”
“Okay. That means I have to have the girls go to a crisis foster home tonight. Is Mrs. Peterson able to be interviewed?”
“Yes. She already gave a statement to Detective Brandon Mahoe when she first arrived.”
“Good. I don’t have to retraumatize everyone with more questions right now,” Lei said. “Has a next of kin or other emergency contact been notified?”
“Yes. I don’t know who that was, but the team assured me measures were being taken for when she’s discharged.”
“Sounds like things are well in hand.” Lei met the nurse’s eyes. “Tell Dr. Asuki that her gentle approach minimized the trauma for the girls, and that made it easier for them to tell me about their experiences, which will assist with the case. You were a big help, too.”
“Just doing our jobs,” the young woman said, but she ducked her head and her eyes brightened. “I’ll pass it on to Dr. Asuki.” She walked off on squeaky ergonomic shoes.
Lei took another minute to text Elizabeth Black to meet them at Mrs. Peterson’s room. The social worker replied that she had the crisis home in place and was just pulling up to the hospital. Perfect. The girls could go with her, shower, rest and relax. Something would be in place for the four of them by the time Mrs. Peterson was discharged—Lei would make sure of it.
She approached the bed. “Mrs. Peterson. Hi. I’m Sergeant Lei Texeira with the Maui Police Department. How are you feeling?”
Emma Peterson smiled. Her good arm was around Joanie, Sarah embraced her waist, and Adelia had snuggled up against her bandaged arm and was brushing her mother’s hair. “I’m much, much better now that my girls are with me.”
“I can see that. They are incredibly brave, strong, resilient young women.” She pulled up a third plastic chair and scooted close. “I hear you gave your statement to Detective Mahoe. That’s great; we don’t have to go through that again right now. I just heard they are keeping you overnight, so I’ve arranged for a safe, supportive place for the girls to stay at temporarily.”
“No!” Sarah wailed, snuggling her face into her mother’s abdomen. “I want to stay with Mom. I can sleep on the floor.”
“Us too,” Adelia said. Joanie said nothing, but pressed in closer. “We all want to stay with Mom.”
“Of course you want to be with your mom.” A new voice from the door. “What a beautiful sight.”
Lei glanced up, relieved to see Elizabeth. The Native American social worker wore jeans, boots, and a snap front denim cowboy shirt with a squash blossom turquoise necklace visible in the neck of her shirt. Her long black hair, ribboned with white, hung in braids over her shoulders, and her strong-featured face was wreathed in a big smile. “Hello, ladies. I’m Elizabeth, and I’m so glad to meet you. What amazing heroines you are.”
Lei moved her chair back and sighed with relief as Elizabeth worked her magic.
The social worker approached each of them, individually shaking their hands and getting their names, beginning with Emma Peterson. Her charisma and warmth were like a soothing perfume, relaxing the traumatized women into trust.
“Say goodbye to Sergeant Texeira. She’s in charge of your case, so I’m sure you can call her anytime with whatever’s on your mind,” Elizabeth said. “But I bet she has a lot to do right now to work on catching the evil men that started this whole thing.”
“Elizabeth’s right, I do. In fact, I’m supposed to be at a team meeting right now,” Lei said, ostentatiously glancing at her phone. “Let me leave my number with you, Emma.” She wrote it on the pad by the hospital phone. “Call me anytime, and I’ll pick up, no matter what.”
She didn’t make that promise lightly. “Thanks, Lei,” Adelia said.
“Yes, thank you,” Emma Peterson said. “For all you’ve done. I saw you out there—standing in the open, talking to the kidnapper who had me by the hair. You saved my life. I know he only shot me in the arm because of you.”
Lei left with her heart a little lighter than it had been when she arrived.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Stevens woke disoriented to the beeping of his phone. Stretched out in the Bronco’s driver’s seat parked in the shade of one of the hospital’s plumeria trees, Stevens picked up the call. “Yeah?”
“Very professional, Lieutenant Stevens.” Omura’s voice was frosty. “I’m assured by your partner that you are mere moments from picking him up. Do that, please. We need to meet at the station. The press has got hold of the case, and we need to get out in front of it.”
“On it, sir.” Stevens ran a hand into his hair, trying to reorder it. At least he was wearing a clean shirt, now. He’d been able to call a friend to bring him one out in the parking lot.
“Fifteen minutes, in the conference room. The head of SWAT will be there to lead the discussion on how events went down. Oh, and the kidnapper you shot is dead. Be prepared to surrender your badge until the investigation is complete.” Omura ended the call with a click that echoed in his aching head.
He’d been out way too long. Sure enough, Mahoe had been texting him for pickup for the last half hour.
“Shit!” Stevens groaned aloud. “How did I oversleep so bad?” Maybe he really was losing it.
On my way. Meet me in front, he texted his partner, and fired up the Bronco.
Stevens and Mahoe walked into the team meeting in Kahului Station’s conferenc
e room only five minutes late, which was how long they’d needed for Stevens to pick Mahoe up and get a brief update on the interviews his partner had conducted with Gutierrez and Mrs. Peterson in the hospital; the remaining kidnapper was being treated, so was unable to be interviewed right away.
The station’s battered Formica table was headed by an immaculately groomed Omura. To her right sat Lei, and to her left, SWAT captain Hiro, his black hair still sweat-slicked to his head in the shape of his helmet, though he’d stripped off his body armor. Also seated were Coast Guardsman Aina Thomas and Becca Nunez from the crime lab.
Omura had pulled down a projection screen on the wall behind her. The Maui Now News latest tidbit, narrated by Lei’s old nemesis reporter, Wendy Watanabe, was playing on silent in the background: an action shot of the SWAT team rappelling down onto the roof of the container, and then a jerky clip of the rest of the takedown, including Stevens’s fatal shooting of the kidnapper.
Stevens jerked involuntarily at the sight of the man clutching his throat and falling on top of the hapless Mrs. Peterson. “Who the hell was filming that?”
Omura’s short red nails continued to tap on her laptop’s keyboard as if he hadn’t spoken. Captain Hiro from SWAT finally replied. “We think it was one of the workers in the storage area. The angle is high up from the corner, where there’s a utility pole. You asked the uniforms who got the whole confrontation started to clear the area—but I guess we know how well that went.”
“It’s unfortunate that the video got out, but it’s too late to do anything about that. Though gruesome, it ultimately shows that we freed the hostages. The video doesn’t end until the girls get out of the container and go with Lei to her truck. Unfortunately, the clip that keeps playing is the one containing the fatal shooting.” Omura still didn’t look up.
Stevens took a seat beside his wife, but she, too, avoided eye contact.
Omura went on. “They don’t have much information, just that some women were being held hostage in the shipping container area, and police action was required to rescue them.” She paused a moment, letting that sink in. “I’ve called for a press conference as soon as we finish this meeting, to brief the public enough to mitigate some of the outrage being expressed in social media at what appears to be overly aggressive police action.” Omura finally met each team member’s eyes. “Let’s check in and get on the same page. I’ll plan some talking points with what we come up with.”
“I’ll go first,” Hiro said. “As you know, Captain, my team and I arrived when the situation had already gone sideways. We didn’t have time to coordinate, or plan our approach, before the lieutenant here took off and intercepted a call from the kidnappers. Things escalated from there as I worked trying to get our team into position for a takedown.”
“I took over the phone from Stevens when the kidnapper appeared to be escalating.” Lei lifted her chin defensively—Stevens knew that stubborn look. “Yes, it’s too bad that we didn’t have time to form a clear plan and establish communication with each other. But considering that, we were able to bring the standoff to an acceptable conclusion.”
“How nice that you think so, Sergeant, but I didn’t ask for your opinion. Just the facts,” Omura said.
“Let me rephrase, then. I overheard Stevens on the speakerphone and could tell it wasn’t going well. In my estimation, the kidnapper was winding up to shoot his next victim. I decided to buy some time by taking over the communication in my role as FBI liaison. I hoped to scare the kidnapper into slowing down, thus giving SWAT more time to move into position.”
“And did you achieve that, in your ‘estimation’?” Omura’s brows rose in skeptical arches.
“I’m not sure that I did. I hope I did. In any case, instead of killing Peterson, the kidnapper shot her in the arm.”
Hiro spoke next. “We were able to get names from the perp who remains alive. His name is Keone Nisake, and he claims he and his partner, Greg Steele, who Stevens shot, were not involved with the pirates. Their job was to move and ship the women. He only told me a little in the first moments of the takedown—just his name and that they weren’t involved with ‘the pirates’ who attacked the ship.”
Omura cocked a finger at Lei. “Follow up with backgrounds and everything you can find on these guys. I want to know if they are connected with the rumors of human trafficking out of Kahului Harbor, or if this is an operation associated with the pirates. Interview Nisake ASAP.”
“Of course, Captain.” Lei was scribbling notes in her spiral notebook, and Stevens’s heart gave a little thump at the sight of her bent curly head. Would she always affect him this way? He sure as hell hoped so, even if it meant she kept winning their fights.
Mahoe broke in. “I interviewed Mrs. Peterson in the hospital. She claims she didn’t really faint after she was shot. Instead, she took the opportunity to escape the kidnapper’s grip on her hair by dropping to the ground, while forcing the door open further to make way for SWAT. She had noticed that Priscilla Gutierrez’s body was missing and she spotted the SWAT team approaching alongside the container. She concluded that the standoff was going to be ending in minutes, so she tried to create a diversion while reducing herself as a target.”
“That did work,” Stevens said. He’d had time to think about his wife’s actions and to see their utility. “Lei kept the kidnapper on the phone, also potentially reducing harm to Mrs. Peterson. I was sure he was going to kill her when I was talking to him. He clearly believed he had already killed Gutierrez. In my opinion, the escalation to FBI intervention represented by Lei made him reconsider immediate deadly force. Mrs. Peterson’s quick action of falling to the ground probably saved her life.” His throat had gone hoarse, so he grabbed one of the glasses set in the middle of the table with a carafe of water. He filled a glass, drank, then continued. “Mahoe and I were observing and covering the container’s entrance from our position in the trees. After Mrs. Peterson dropped, the kidnapper identified as Greg Steele stepped over her and tried to see around the door to check on the helicopter. I had an opportunity for a shot, and I took it, figuring that would give SWAT a chance to overwhelm Nisake, still inside the container with the hostages.”
Hiro nodded. “The distraction provided by Sergeant Texeira allowed SWAT to get into position. When the kidnapper was shot, we knew it was our chance. No peaceful resolution was going to come from this particular situation. Steele was too aggressive.”
Omura tapped her nails together like tiny castanets. “Be that as it may, Captain Hiro. Were you able to verify the kidnappers’ supposed identities?”
“They had no ID on them, so currently Nisake’s word is all we have. He has a substantial gunshot wound to his shoulder, and has been in surgery all day.”
Omura glanced around the table. “Lieutenant Stevens will have to be recused from the case until the investigation into his shooting of Steele is completed. I need some more detectives on this now that we’re down both Stevens and Pono Kaihale. I put out a call to Gerry Bunuelos and Abe Torufu, but they’re out on one of their cases now. Captain Hiro, you can go. Thanks for your role in the takedown.”
Hiro glanced at his watch. “Thanks, Captain, I do need to debrief my men and make sure the crime scene area is secure and our gear is dealt with.”
Everyone said goodbye. When he’d exited, Omura turned to Lei. “Texeira, you’ll have to bring Abe and Bunuelos up to speed when they get in. Report on your interview with the girls.”
Lei shut her eyes, opened them again. She was pale, and that smudge of dirt that had so disarmed Stevens was still on her cheek. “They’re doing okay, all things considered. I was able to see them through medical examinations, Joanie’s rape kit procedure, and a preliminary statement.” She sketched out what Adelia Peterson, with support from her sister Sarah and Joanie as a silent witness, had reported. “I left them with their mother, Elizabeth Black, and Dr. Wilson doing a family debrief.”
“This ‘main guy’ that Adelia described—w
as he the same guy I shot?” Stevens asked. “Because that guy sounds as aggressive as Greg Steele.”
“No. She said they spent the first couple of nights in a metal container in an unknown location that she described as a sea cave or maybe a large boathouse, but they were blindfolded through the transition. Joanie, Mrs. Peterson, and Mrs. Gutierrez were raped by the ‘main guy and two sidekicks,’ who kept their faces covered whenever they interacted with the women. Adelia said, and Sarah confirmed, that they’d never seen the two kidnappers we shot before.”
Mahoe nodded. “Mrs. Peterson confirmed the men who moved them were not the same as the pirates, even though all kept masks on. She said their builds and voices were different.”
Stevens rubbed the scruff of unshaven beard on his chin, making a rasping sound. “Seems like there could be two crews operating: the pirates, and the human traffickers. If the pirates raped the older women and said what they did to the younger ones, they were likely going to be sold overseas as sex slaves. Perhaps the younger girls were spared because virginity made them more valuable.”
Omura cocked a brow. “That’s obvious, Lieutenant!” She was still pissed at him. She turned to the Coast Guard investigator. “What do you know about the attack on the Golden Fleece?”
Aina Thomas, who until then had been quietly working on his tablet, glanced up. “As you know, Captain, we retrieved a body with a similar MO to the killing of Captain Kaihale—but as Sergeant Texeira put forth, we don’t think the Fleece was actually sunk off of Kaunakakai’s harbor as they set us up to believe by dumping the body there. The Coast Guard has mounted an all vessels, all surrounding areas search for wherever the pirates are hiding out. They have some kind of place in or around Maui County waters where they are hiding the Zodiacs as well as the women and goods from their raids. While the team was reviewing, I was sending all the information we’ve gathered to Commander Decker, my superior.” He set the tablet down. “We now know we’re searching for two high-velocity, good-sized Zodiacs that they use to approach their targets and overwhelm them. We just put out a warning to boaters, a ‘Be On the Lookout’ for that type of craft approaching. Hopefully someone will spot them and call it in.” He gazed around the table. “We have all available craft on their way from O`ahu to search for the perps’ base in a sea cave or a large boathouse. We will check every harbor and inch of coastline until we find it.”