Murder in Honolulu: A Skye Delaney Mystery (32 page)

Her apartment was a carbon copy of
Natsuko's. Only it was less tidy, more furnished, and reeked of
marijuana.

"You want to sit down?" Akiko asked
nervously.

We sat on an old sofa, while Akiko, still
holding her baby, remained standing.

I sighed and then got right to the point.
"Natsuko's my housekeeper. But I'm sure you know that—"

"Yes," Akiko admitted. "What did she tell
you?"

"Enough to know that you and your
boyfriend—Trevor Baldwin—may have used Natsuko to get information
about me, my dog, and my house that could have led to multiple
murders starting with the murder of Carter Delaney."

Akiko's eyes grew with fear. "I didn't have
anything to do with any murders—"

I wasn't so sure about that. "You might have
to prove your innocence to the police," I told her.

She kissed her baby fretfully. "I never
expected any trouble. Trevor told me he worked for Carter Delaney
and that it was Carter who wanted him to learn some basic stuff
about you. No one was supposed to get hurt—"

"But more than a few people did get hurt," I
said. "And not just the dead." I glanced over at Liam and he took
the lead.

He asked Akiko: "Did you know that Baldwin
spent time in prison for attempted murder?"

"No," she said. "He never told me that."

"Yeah, there are probably a lot of things he
didn't tell you," Liam said, "like the fact that he was fired by
Carter Delaney for stealing and was once a cellmate of Adam
Ramirez."

The baby started to wail. "You made her
cry," Akiko said, rocking her gently.

I gave Liam a "cool it" look, though he was
only trying to clue her in as to the type of man she had let into
her life and what he was capable of. The reality was that there was
still no proof that Trevor Baldwin was a brutal killer or that
Antonio Ramirez had not acted alone in Carter's murder and the
others. Right now, Akiko was the one person who could make the
pieces of the puzzle fit for the police to take it seriously.

I tried a different angle with her once the
baby was quiet again. "Did Trevor ever come to you at the clinic
for medicine or dressing to treat an injury or a dog bite?"

The question seemed to throw her for a
moment. Holding her daughter close to her chest, Akiko answered
slowly: "Yes, he said a dog had bitten his friend and he needed my
help. I gave him what he wanted."

I couldn't help but think again of Akiko's
words: "
No one was supposed to get hurt
." If Baldwin was
behind the deaths, I thought, then he clearly had every intention
of hurting certain people and didn't give a damn who he had to walk
over to achieve his lethal objectives.

I gave Akiko the weight of my stare, and
demanded: "Where can we find Trevor Baldwin now?"

"I don't know," she said in a shaky voice.
"We stopped seeing each other right after—"

"Get smart for once in your life, Akiko,"
barked Liam. "We both know that Baldwin still comes to you whenever
he wants some action. If this man's who I think he is, he's already
killed at least three people and certainly won't have any qualms
about killing another, especially if he feels threatened by someone
who may know too much about him—"

Realizing that she had no other options as
Liam's harsh message hit home, Akiko gave us an address for Trevor
Baldwin. I wasn't really interested in seeing her go down with him.
Like me, she had no doubt been taken in by a smooth talking man
whose charms would come back to haunt her.

"One other thing," I told her, "if you hear
from Baldwin, be smart and don't mention our little conversation or
otherwise tip him off. It could be a matter of life and
death—yours."

We left her on that note and now had to hope
we could find Trevor Baldwin before he either skipped town or
decided to target someone else for death.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-THREE

Trevor Baldwin lived in a cottage three
blocks from Akiko's apartment complex. While Liam knocked on the
door, I kept a hand in my purse in case I needed to go for my gun
in self-defense.

It never came to that. Either Baldwin wasn't
answering or he wasn't home.

"My guess is that he's onto us and has fled
to parts unknown," Liam said, leaning against my car.

I wasn't so sure about that, but kept it to
myself. "Well, at least we know who we're after."

"Yeah, Baldwin can run, but he can't hide,"
Liam said, "as cliché as it sounds."

I nodded while still trying to process the
connection between Carter, Trevor Baldwin, Edwin Axelrod, and
Antonio Ramirez.

Liam's cell phone rang. "It's my editor," he
said. "I need to get this."

"Don't let me stop you," I told him and
glanced up at Trevor Baldwin's house.

Liam was off the phone in a minute. "I've
gotta go," he said, frowning as if we were in the middle of a date.
"My editor wants me back now. He wants a story with everything I've
got so far, which is plenty."

"Wouldn't it be better if you waited till
Baldwin was under lock and key?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But since neither of us
knows how long that will take, the news can't wait."

I was inclined to agree to some extent.
Maybe writing about Trevor Baldwin as a murder suspect would help
flush him out in the open.

Liam and I went our separate ways with a
promise to keep in touch on this recent turn of events and maybe
even work together again in the future, should our paths cross. I
had gained a whole new respect for the man, but was happy to keep
it on a professional friendship level at this point, though he
seemed to want more. I wasn't ready to give up the good thing I had
going with Ridge anytime soon.

* * *

In my car, I phoned Ridge and gave him the
run down on what we'd learned. I hated to break it to him that the
case he thought was solved might not be after all.

"You and Liam have been busy," Ridge said
unkindly, "doing police work."

"It's what we do, more or less," I told him.
"Besides, I couldn't exactly come to you until I had something to
go on."

"I'm not sure you do," he said. "It may be a
bit of a stretch to think that Baldwin was the puppeteer for this
string of murders, especially when the solid and circumstantial
evidence points toward Antonio Ramirez."

"It fits," I said tersely. "I was never
totally comfortable with Ramirez's suicide note or some of the
other aspects of this case. I think Trevor Baldwin can fill in the
blanks, assuming we find him."

Ridge sighed loudly into the phone. "If he
really is responsible for killing Delaney and others, why don't you
leave it to the police to handle from this point on," Ridge said
firmly.

I was sure he already knew the answer, but
told him anyway. "Because it's something I need to see through to
the end."

Ridge didn't try to pull rank on me as a
police detective or boyfriend. Nor did he back away from something
that could reopen his case and tie up loose ends.

For my part and for Carter's sake, I hoped
that having the man I believed to be a killer—Trevor Baldwin—in
custody could give us both a little more peace and a resolution to
the case that went beyond Antonio Ramirez.

* * *

"I've seen Trevor Baldwin before," I told
Ridge while looking at the suspect's mug shot.

"Where?" he asked, peering at me as we stood
by his desk.

"He was at my house the day Carter was
killed, posing as a journalist," I said. "The bastard asked me what
happened, as though he didn't have a clue. I never gave him much
thought at the time, because I had other issues on my mind."
Suddenly my mouth became a perfect O, as another memory surfaced.
"I also saw him at the Whaler's Club when I had lunch with Liam
Pratt. I thought then that he was kind of creepy, staring at me
from the bar. But I ignored it, focusing instead on getting
whatever info I could from Liam..."

"Damn," Ridge muttered, shaking his head.
"The asshole's been stalking you as part of his sick game."

Kawakami approached us and said: "That's all
interesting, Skye, but I still think it's pointless to try to tie
him to our multiple murders." Kawakami frowned as he looked at
Ridge and then me before continuing. "There's nothing that
positively places Baldwin at your house at the time of Delaney's or
Ramirez's deaths. No DNA, no fingerprints, no living witnesses. For
all we know, everything else you dug up or think you did on Baldwin
is purely coincidence."

I wasn't going to backpedal on this one. Not
with the stakes so high. "Will you listen to yourself, Kawakami?" I
said harshly. "It sounds like you're more interested in keeping
this case closed for good than finding out the truth. How the hell
much more information do you need in that thick skull of yours
before you open up to the very real likelihood that Trevor Baldwin
is the man responsible for Carter's death, among others?"

"A confession would be nice," Kawakami
said.

"So maybe we can get a confession when we
find him," I told him.

"Hold that thought," Ridge broke in. "As far
as I'm concerned, there's clearly enough probable cause here to get
a search warrant for Baldwin's residence. Hopefully, a judge will
agree and we can pay the suspect's house an official visit. Who
knows? Maybe we'll even find him there."

Half an hour later, equipped with the search
warrant, Ridge, Kawakami, and I headed over to the home where we
believed Trevor Baldwin lived.

With the very real possibility that he was
armed and dangerous and possibly still on a mission to kill, Ridge
requested a police backup unit, which had yet to arrive.

As with my prior visit with Liam, there was
no indication anyone was home. I thought about Liam's belief that
Baldwin was on the run. My gut instincts told me that he was still
in Honolulu and no less a threat.

"I say we check it out," said Kawakami.
"Hell, we can take him if he's unlucky enough to be in there. Worse
for him if he gets in our way..."

While we sat in the car waiting for backup,
Ridge said: "The guys ought to be here any minute. No sense taking
chances."

"If I get a say," I offered tentatively, "I
agree with Kawakami on this one. Baldwin doesn't even know we're
onto him, if Akiko Higashi was smart enough to keep her big mouth
shut. As far as he's concerned, everyone believes Antonio Ramirez
is the guilty party. Case closed. If we wait much longer, it could
cost us the element of surprise, assuming Baldwin is inside
destroying evidence. Then who knows what might happen?"

Ridge seemed to contemplate it, and finally
said: "What the hell. Let's go for it. Carefully—"

We left the car, not looking for a fight,
per se, but ready to do battle if we had to. Kawakami knocked on
the door. Ridge and I did not take out our weapons, but kept our
hands on them, just in case.

The door opened after several knocks and a
Filipino woman in her thirties stood there.

"Yes?" she asked with an accent.

Ridge identified himself, flashing his
badge. "We're looking for Trevor Baldwin."

"He isn't here," she said, brushing a few
strands of dark hair from her face. "I haven't seen him for two
days."

We all exchanged dubious glances.

"What's your name?" Ridge asked.

"Maria," she responded.

"Maria what?"

"Enriquez," she responded.

"Are you his lady, Ms. Enriquez?" Ridge
asked.

"No, just a friend," she said. "I look after
the place when Trevor's away."

"Is anyone else inside?" Kawakami asked.

"No," she said quickly.

Ridge glanced my way and back. "We've got a
warrant to search the premises." He showed it to her.

She fluttered her lashes. "What are you
searching for?"

"Evidence in a murder investigation," he
said brusquely. "As long as you stay out of the way, you can remain
in the house."

She nodded meekly, and looked at me. I gazed
back, wondering if she had any idea about her friend and the threat
he posed to her.

We all went inside.

Mindful that Baldwin could actually be in
the house, we kept our eyes open and instincts sharp. The place was
a mess, as though the occupants could care less. Wearing latex
gloves, we padded across dingy carpeting looking for anything that
would tell us something meaningful and/or be admissible in a court
of law.

In a downstairs room, I spotted a laptop
computer on a glass table and immediately thought of the suicide
notes that Carter and Antonio Ramirez allegedly wrote. There was a
printer on a stand nearby.

"Ridge! Kawakami!" I called out.

Kawakami came running in, gun drawn. "What
is it?"

Don't worry, it's not the boogie man
,
I thought, smiling. I nodded at the laptop and printer and said: "A
hundred bucks says this computer and printer were used to create
Ramirez's supposed suicide letter, not to mention Carter's faked
last words—"

Kawakami frowned and put his weapon away.
"I'll hold off on that bet for now."

I think he was starting to come around to
the real possibility that Trevor Baldwin may have been up to his
neck in this case.

We heard Ridge beckon us and followed the
sound of his voice to a back room. Entering, we saw Ridge and Maria
Enriquez, who he had used as an involuntary tour guide.

"Well, look what we've got here..." hummed
Ridge.

The room had an arsenal of semiautomatic and
automatic weapons, along with enough ammo to fuel a small army.

"Wonder how many of these he has a license
for?" Kawakami asked jokingly.

"Obviously, he was prepared for any
situation," I said uneasily. I recalled that Liam had mentioned
Baldwin was a Gulf War vet. I wondered if he'd lost it somewhere
between then and now.