Paradise Crime Mysteries

by Toby Neal

  Ken cleared his throat. He reached over and pulled the log and Visa bill close. “Robert Castellejos, you have voluntarily submitted records documenting your involvement with these deaths. You are under arrest for the assisted suicide deaths of these voluntarily submitted names.” He recited the Miranda warning.

  Castellejos waved a hand. “I waive my right to counsel. I have no need for such things. I’ve made my peace with spending my last days in prison for a cause I’m dying for anyway. I won’t allow Terence Chang to be charged with ‘crimes’ I’ve committed.” He made air quotes as he said “crimes.”

  “All right. I’d like that in writing, if you don’t mind.” Ken pushed a legal pad over to him, and the man picked up the pad and wrote, reading aloud as he did so. “I waive my right to counsel and make a full confession of my assistance in the suicide deaths related to the site DyingFriends.”

  Sophie forced her paralyzed throat to form some words. “So you are KevorkianFan.”

  “And you are the lovely and deceitful ShastaM.” Castellejos’s warm brown eyes shone with the light of fanaticism as they rested on hers, casting a hypnotic spell. “I detected your phishing, but not until poor Terence had already bought your bogus suicide note. Very authentic, my dear. May I suppose you’ve had your own thoughts of suicide? It really is a viable option and part of your right to life, liberty, and happiness as guaranteed by the Constitution.”

  Sophie’s mouth opened and shut. Waxman’s voice crackled in their ears. “Don’t listen to this man’s poison; we are not providing him a stage for his rhetoric. Focus on the logs and victims; get a confession of each name while he’s willing to talk.”

  Ken opened the log. “Let’s begin with our most recent murder victim, Betsy Brown, and work our way back, shall we?”

  “Ah, Betsy. Lovely young woman. Didn’t she look beautiful in her special gown?” Castellejos went on to describe helping Betsy prepare with her gown and makeup, bringing her the water and the medication, sitting with her until her heart stopped. “It’s my honor to help people who have chosen to leave this world do so on their own terms.”

  “Betsy wasn’t dying. She had Guillain-Barré syndrome, a rare viral infection that she would have recovered from.” Sophie found her voice again, and it vibrated with outrage.

  “Yes, Terence’s lawyer informed me of that. What you need to understand is that the right to death is a basic human right, just as is the right to life. Perhaps Betsy wouldn’t have chosen this path if she had known that; perhaps she would have. It doesn’t change the fact that she had a right to choose when her life ended. I don’t concern myself with verifying details of diagnoses. Human rights are what’s important.”

  Sophie felt her hands ball into fists, her arms tightening. She’d never wanted to punch someone in the mouth more than she did at that moment. Ken put a hand on her arm. “Let’s move on to Corby Alexander Hale. What was your involvement with his death?”

  “I doctored the boy’s drink. He was a little ambivalent about his commitment to suicide; he told me that. I gave him a little relaxation drink when I met him at a gay bar the night I picked to help him fulfill his commitment. He’d chosen a pain-free way to go—I imagine it was actually quite pleasant.” Castellejos smiled. “I imagine, after the grief passes, the senator and his wife will actually get a lot of political mileage out of this with the sympathy vote.”

  Sophie stood and paced behind the chairs, needing to discharge her rage and not sure she could keep from attacking the man. She thought of Lei in that moment, the other agent’s physicality and emotional volatility. She’d never really understood it—until now.

  Castellejos worked imperturbably back through the log with them recording every word—nailing his own coffin shut tighter with each disclosure and unfazed by that fact. In the end, they were hearing the confession of a dying man with nothing much to lose.

  Sophie took pleasure in erasing every virtual trace of DyingFriends from the Internet late that night—but she didn’t know how she’d ever erase the memory of Castellejos’s smiling death’s head face from her dreams.

  Lei carried Angel into the community room at the Youth Correctional Facility. This wasn’t her usual scheduled visit, but after Stevens had left and she’d spent another day in bed, she realized that seeing her young friend was the only thing she could think of that might cheer her up.

  They’d let Consuelo meet her in the rec room alone, and as usual, the Chihuahua went into rapture upon seeing the girl. Lei smiled, watching them play, and finally Consuelo sat on the couch holding the dog and gestured. “Lei, come sit. What happened to your face?”

  “Injured on the job. I have some free time. Thought I’d come see my favorite juvenile delinquent.”

  “Well, I have some news too. I’m getting out early. They need my bed, apparently, so I’m being furloughed to a work-study program.” Consuelo’s pretty face was animated and she jumped a bit on the couch so that her glossy black hair bounced. “I’m getting a job. They’re already looking at some maintenance programs where I could work. I even get to go to classes at East Oahu Community College, and I come back to the group home in the evenings.”

  “So good, that news!” Having Bennie Fernandez on a case was great when the defendant was someone you cared about. “When does this start?”

  “Next week. They said I could have Angel there at the group home. She could be a therapy dog for all six kids who live at the house.”

  “Nice.” Lei felt a pang as she looked at the Chihuahua. Angel had really worked her way into Lei’s life even though she’d always known the arrangement was temporary. As if sensing this, Angel hopped over and licked her hand. She petted the dog’s sleek head. “I’m so happy for you. Well, it comes at a great time for both of us. I have an opportunity I’m considering.” She told Consuelo about the offer from Captain Omura on Maui. “Without the FBI, I never would have met you. Thinking about leaving feels like giving up, like I couldn’t cut it.” Lei found herself touching the metal disc at her throat.

  “Don’t you think there will be other people you will help through the police department? I mean, some of the stories you told me were awesome.” Consuelo smiled.

  “I know. It’s just a tough choice.”

  “You’re so good at what you do; it doesn’t matter who you work for and you know it. By the way, I’m starting my first college class soon.”

  “What is it?”

  “Journalism. Then political science. Maybe I’ll do politics someday.”

  Lei felt a wide grin stretch the bruises on her face. “Perfect.”

  “I guess I had to get stuck in here to see that I had other choices than to do what I did. You’re the reason I didn’t give up back then when I wanted to kill myself, and you’re the reason I know I can do it even though I’m not the best student.”

  Lei hugged the girl, the dog sandwiched between them. She thought of DyingFriends and of the vulnerability of suicidal teenagers, who could, if supported, go on to lead productive lives. Thank God the site was shut down—Sophie had texted her that, and that she’d be by to tell her about the case soon.

  On the way home, Lei’s cell rang.

  “Hi, Lei. It’s Marcus.” Lei wondered when her breath would stop freezing at the sound of the big detective’s voice.

  “Hey, Marcus. Any news on the Bozeman thing?” Be proactive not reactive. Another Dr. Wilson-ism.

  “That’s what I’m calling about. We got Bozeman’s shooter. Grieving wife of a client he’d offed. The lady extorted Bozeman’s name out of the business partner who’d ordered the hit, then shot him. Tracked Bozeman, shot him too. Lady’s a badass. I wish we could give her a medal instead of locking her up, but oh well. Everything’s all tied up on the case.”

  “Wow, she sounds like a force to be reckoned with. So . . . everything’s tied up?” She gave a delicate emphasis to the word “everything.” Kwon lay between them, an unspoken ghost.

  “Yup. Everything. Case closed.” K
amuela’s voice was brisk.

  “Well. Thanks for the call. That’s really good news.”

  “Yeah. Marcella and I want to go out with you and that mystery man of yours.”

  “I know. Soon, I hope. Thanks again.” Lei hung up, and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  Kwon was finally behind her for good.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sophie pulled the Lexus up to the curb on the quiet side street where Lei Texeira lived. She took a minute to close her eyes and lean her close-cropped head on the steering wheel, gathering courage to go talk about the case and its aftermath. She was still haunted by all she’d seen and by Castellejos’s utter lack of remorse.

  She’d had no idea IA would get involved regarding Healani Chang’s death and that they’d investigate Lei for murder! Her stomach clenched at the thought of Lei’s stress, but she hoped her visit would help a little with that.

  Sophie took one more breath, blew it out, and stepped out into the pearly light of approaching dusk in Honolulu. The plumeria tree by Lei’s gate was in bloom, and the yellow throats of creamy white pinwheel blossoms emitted a sumptuous scent as she rang the bell set in the metal gate frame.

  The reaction was immediate—a chorus of barking. A deep, bellowing bark was punctuated by a shrill timpani bark, and two dogs burst into view, matched perfectly and yet never more different. One was a big Rottweiler and the other, a teacup Chihuahua barking so hard she flew off the ground on stiff legs.

  Lei followed the dogs out to the gate. Her bruises were fading but still evident. “Sophie, hi! Come on in.”

  Lei opened the gate, and Sophie entered, hesitant because of the dogs’ cacophony. “Meet my dogs. Keiki, sit. Angel, sit.” Lei did a hand signal and the dogs shut up and sat. “Put your fist out, Sophie, fingers down. Let them get a sniff of you.”

  Sophie did so, realizing in that moment that a dog might be something she was missing out on. She’d never had a pet, and the empty echo of the apartment came to mind. Imagine having the company of a dog on her runs, happy toenails clattering across the teak floors to greet her. Her father couldn’t complain the place was unlived in with a dog at home. She smiled and knelt, stroking the dogs’ smooth heads.

  “They’re beautiful. I think I might like a dog.”

  “Lots of great animals needing homes at the Humane Society.” Lei led the way back into the cottage. “You’re never really alone when you have a dog. So what brings you to my house? I should tell you, I’ve been forbidden by Waxman to discuss the IA aspects of the case at all while I’m being investigated.” She went to a cabinet, took down a couple of glasses. “Can I get you something to drink? A beer?”

  “Okay.” Sophie sat down on one of the small aluminum chairs. Maybe some alcohol would make this easier. She looked around the tidy, bright little space. “Cute place.”

  “It’s perfect for me and the girls.” Lei poured a couple of Heinekens into the glasses, brought them to the table. “To the successful shutdown of DyingFriends. You made this case, Sophie, and you’re going to make it for the prosecution.”

  They clinked the glasses in toast and Sophie sipped. “Did Ken call you about KevorkianFan’s confession?”

  “No. What’s the latest?”

  “Bad news on Terence Chang but good news on the real monster behind the site.” Sophie drank more, chugging down half her glass while Lei watched, tilted brown eyes wide.

  “Thirsty? There’s more where that came from.”

  Sophie burped behind her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time since the interview with KevorkianFan. Turns out he’s Robert Castellejos, the cancer victim.”

  “What?” Lei’s shock looked genuine. “Seemed like such a nice guy. Gave me some honey.” She gestured to the jar on the counter.

  “I hope you didn’t try any. Throw it away. God knows what he put in there!” Sophie pushed the glass away, looked at Lei. “Terence Chang rolled on Castellejos as the power behind the site. Castellejos came in and made a full confession on the assisted suicide of more than three hundred victims. Guy’s a psychopath but sees himself as a patriot.”

  “Holy God.” Lei stared at her for a long moment, then picked up her glass and drank. Set it down. “What happened with Chang?”

  “We cut him loose. Going to get a year or so for his administration of the site in return for testimony about Castellejos.”

  Lei frowned. “That kid hates me. I better watch my back.”

  “Yes. I’d agree with that. I think we’ll see more from Terence Chang in the future. He’s got the attitude to step into Healani Chang’s shoes as head of the family, but we’ve got him under surveillance and on an ankle bracelet at the moment. Marcella told me they’re investigating you as if you might have shot Healani Chang. It’s just crazy.”

  “That IA guy? Pillman? What a piece of work. I get that it’s his job to investigate irregularities in the department, but he doesn’t have to like it so much.” The beer appeared to burn Lei’s throat going down, and she coughed.

  “Well, I just came to bring you up to speed. I know we aren’t supposed to discuss the IA investigation, so all I’ll say is this: None of us believe that shit, and Ken’s got evidence backing you up. It will blow over.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “We’ve also been able to prevent at least three more deaths so far by intercepting communications that were in motion from the site. A lot of people will have an opportunity to live a little longer, and maybe that will make a positive difference. I don’t know.”

  “I know, right? Tough case. So sad—a bunch of dying people helping each other die faster. I felt so bad for the DyingFriends members. Even Chang—he seemed to really love his grandma and hate to see her suffering. This is one case I’m happy to be done with.”

  “Speaking of happy. Marcella told me your boyfriend is back in your life.” Sophie wished she wasn’t the only one of their trio without anyone to come home to.

  “Yeah. We’re good.” Lei’s face moved from interesting to truly beautiful with her big smile. “We’ve sure been through some hard times. I’m hoping they’re going to come to an end soon. One way or another. Thanks for coming by.”

  “I’m glad I did. Hang in there.” Sophie stood up, headed for the door. Lei followed.

  “You know, everyone keeps saying that. I just don’t know what I’m hanging in there for anymore.”

  “That sounds ominous.” Sophie petted the dogs’ heads and they trotted with her to the gate.

  “I have more than just work on my mind these days. I’m thinking of making some changes.”

  “I bet, with a guy like Stevens. I’d be happy to just have a dog at this point.”

  “You should get one. Go by the pound; they’ll all be begging for you to take them home. I can’t go there at all myself. I’d be overrun. Thanks so much for coming over.”

  “I’d like to be friends,” Sophie said impulsively, feeling a flush in her cheeks at her awkward words. She was so bad at this.

  “Of course. I’ve wanted that for a while.” Lei smiled. “So next time you and Marcella shoot pool, count me in. Better yet, we can just go.”

  “For sure.” Sophie went through the gate, clicked it shut, and stopped for one last touch of Keiki’s broad nose, pressed through the bars.

  Yes, a dog would be a good place to start.

  That night, Sophie’s new companion, a two-year-old yellow Lab named Ginger, refused to stay in the laundry room. The dog employed a variety of behaviors from scratching to howling to convey the message that she wouldn’t be separated from her new mistress.

  Sophie ended up with company in her bed in the cool dark cave of her room. While not exactly what she’d had in mind, Ginger was most definitely warm and hairy, and Castellejos’s hypnotic eyes were banished from her dreams.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The next day Stevens drove Lei in his old Bronco from Kahului Airport toward his place in Kuau on Maui. Lei gazed out at the wind l
ashing the sugarcane fields in a familiar dance off of Hana Highway. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out, frowning at dr. lasota in the little ID window. “Special Agent Texeira.”

  “Dr. LaSota here.” The psychologist’s voice was crisp. “Just wanted to inform you that the investigation into Healani Chang’s death has been ruled a suicide.”

  “Okay. I guess.” Lei glanced at Stevens and met his concerned eyes.

  “Yes. And furthermore, our Internal Affairs investigation has come back with no evidence of wrongdoing on your part. You are in the clear.”

  “Thank you.” Lei gave Stevens a thumbs-up sign.

  “We are, however, entering a note in your personnel file that you are not to be involved with any further investigation of the Chang family.”

  “Great. I don’t want anything to do with them, either.”

  “Good. Also, I’m personally sorry if this investigation added stress to your injuries.” The doctor’s voice had softened. “I didn’t like the direction things took.”

  “I didn’t either. Thank you.” Lei clicked off the phone after the psychologist hung up. “Looks like I’m in the clear over Healani Chang’s suicide.”

  “Thank God,” Stevens said. “We can really relax and enjoy our weekend together now that the Kwon thing and that investigation are over.” He reached over to squeeze her leg. “I hope you like my apartment.”

  He turned into the small parking lot of a condo complex outside the beachfront town of Paia and parked the truck in front of a three-story tan cinder-block building facing the turquoise sea. Coconut palms gyrated in the wind around the sides of the building, and the parking lot was trimmed in plumeria trees and brilliant magenta bougainvillea.

  Stevens lifted Lei’s stuffed carry-on backpack out of the backseat of the Bronco while Lei opened the tailgate and unlatched the door of the big dog crate where Keiki lay, expressive brown eyes anxious. Angel had gone to live with Consuelo at her group home, and Lei missed the little dog already.