Rip Tides (19 page)

“You see, I have a theory. My theory is this. You called Pippa. She told you Makoa was going to break up with Shayla, maybe ask her to marry him. She may even have told you some important personal news. Did you tell him your news, Pippa?”

The girl’s skin had paled alarmingly. “No,” she breathed. “But I did tell him Makoa was finally breaking up with Shayla.”

“Well, you should tell him the rest,” Lei said. “He really needs to know.”

Pippa turned to Oulaki, and her eyes filled as she said, “I’m pregnant. With Makoa’s baby.”

Oulaki tensed. He seemed to withdraw into himself, becoming hunched and tight, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m sad for you, Pippa. That’s a lot to deal with alone,” he said, each word pressed out flat through lips that looked stiff. But when Lei glimpsed his eyes, they were alive with mortal pain.

“You thought you’d fly over to Maui and get rid of your rival,” Lei said. “Get the front room of the Torque house and the girl you’d fallen in love with, all in one stroke.”

“No,” Oulaki said, but he didn’t say it to Lei. He said it to Pippa. “I would never hurt the man you loved.”

“Is what she’s saying true?” Pippa asked, ignoring Lei and Pono. “Did you kill Makoa? Did you ever imagine that would make me love you?”

Oulaki stood, pushing back the chair behind him. To Lei’s astonishment, he dropped to his knees before Pippa.

“No. Never. You loved him, and I would never hurt someone you loved, even if I thought you deserved more. Deserved better. Deserved someone who loves only you.”

“Holy crap,” Lei breathed, as Oulaki put his arms around Pippa’s waist and pressed his head into her lap.

“I will do all I can to make you happy,” he said, his voice muffled. “I know I’m not him, but I’ll be there for you in whatever way I can.”

Pippa seemed frozen, and then slowly her hands came down to stroke Oulaki’s head, his shoulders. They might as well have been completely alone, for all the attention they paid to Lei and her partner.

Lei cleared her throat. “Excuse me. That’s all very well, but I think I’m looking at motive here.”

“I didn’t do it,” Oulaki said, without raising his head. “And I will take care of you, if you will let me.”

He was still embracing Pippa’s midsection in a way that communicated, more than any words, that he didn’t care she was pregnant with another man’s baby; that he’d care for that child as if it were his own.

Lei found herself clearing her throat again, because of a lump that had gathered there.

“We’ll give you a moment of privacy.” Lei said.

Pippa was crying, tears rolling down her face, but she was still stroking Oulaki’s hair, his shoulders, as he knelt before her. Lei and Pono exited, and the two never looked up.

“I didn’t see that coming,” Pono said out in the hall.

“I suspected he might have feelings for her, but I had no idea of the depth,” Lei said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t know anymore if he’s the guy.”

“Me neither.”

They were gathering their resolve outside the door containing Eli Tadeo, when Shayla Cummings came striding down the hall, trailing a uniformed officer from the front desk. She looked amazing: flags of color on her high cheekbones, long brown hair bouncing in fat, flowing curls, a sprigged sundress grazing her knees, and kitten-heeled sandals on her feet.

“Shayla, you look great,” Lei said, infusing her voice with a warmth she didn’t feel.

“I have to keep going somehow,” Shayla said. “And find a way to deal with all this stress.” Her big brown eyes filled with tears.

“Well, we’re sorry to keep having to check in with you about things, but we have one more interview we need to do.”

Pono opened the interview door and held it ajar, and Shayla stepped inside, immediately pulling up short as she locked eyes with Eli Tadeo, seated at the table.

“Eli! What are you doing here?”

“Same as you. Came when MPD called,” Eli said, with that sulky edge to his voice.

Lei grabbed another chair from the hall and then made sure the door was locked once they were all seated. “I need to review your rights and remind you that this is a voluntary interview.” She recited the Miranda warning.

Shayla turned accusing eyes to Lei. “I don’t know why I’m in this room with him. I’m sure you know this is my ex-boyfriend, who’s been harassing me and Makoa for months.”

Eli remained seated, his dark eyes locked with Shayla’s. “I can’t believe you’re saying that.”

Shayla’s eyes widened in panic, skittering away from Eli’s, as Lei opened the folder of phone bills.

“I brought you in, Shayla, to check if the two of you were in contact. Were you?”

“No!” Shayla cried.

“Yes,” Eli said.

“Well, I think these phone records tell the tale.” Lei ran her finger down the list of phone numbers. “I was showing Eli and Eric these records earlier, Shayla. The calls Eli kept making to you, which you didn’t take. And then, suddenly, this unidentified burner number appears.”

Lei took her own phone out of her pocket and, very deliberately, punched in the burner number. The door of the room burst open, and Eric Tadeo, face flushed, stomped across the room. He grabbed his brother’s arm and gave a hard tug. “Eli, we’re out of here.”

He tugged his brother by force toward the door as Shayla jumped to her feet, clutching her purse and looking around wildly. Lei pressed Send.

“Let us the hell out!” Eric Tadeo yelled at Lei, his face congested with blood, cords standing out in his neck. Pono rose to his full height, facing down the other man protectively as a tinny beep began in Shayla’s purse.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“You going to get that?” Lei asked. “And everyone can just sit their asses right back down. We’re not going anywhere.”

Shayla sagged back down into the plastic chair.
Beep. Beep. Beep,
went the phone in her purse, but she made no move to take it out.

Lei punched the Off button. “Take out that phone and give it to me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Yes, you do. It’s evidence in a murder investigation,” Pono growled, and held out his meaty brown hand.

Her own hand trembling, Shayla pulled out a cheap Nokia burner phone and set it in his hand. Lei’s phone number showed clearly in the little identification window.

“We aren’t talking to you for another minute without counsel present.” Eric’s hand was still clamped around his twin’s arm, just above the elbow.

“Screw that,” Eli said, yanking his arm out of his brother’s hand. “You always think you know best. You think you can tell me what to do. I’m sick of it. Sick of covering for you.”

Lei’s heart leaped to trip-hammer speed as the twins confronted each other before Shayla. Shayla’s head was lowered, glorious hair hiding her face as she played with the edge of her dress. Turned toward each other, the twins’ faces were as similar as two sides of a coin.

“Don’t do this,” Eric snarled. “Shut your mouth. Now.”

“No. You thought you could have it all. Your pretty wifey, the kids, and Shayla, too.”

Now Shayla’s head flew up, and she leaped to her feet, pushing her chair back. “What? What are you saying?”

“What do you think I’m saying?” Eli screamed. “Half the time you thought you were screwing me, you were screwing my brother.”

Lei watched this revelation settle in on the haughty young woman.

She screamed. “No! No, you didn’t!” and launched herself at Eli.

The room erupted into the violence that Lei had sensed simmering under the surface between the brothers and the beautiful woman they’d shared. Lei wrestled Shayla back and cuffed her hands in front while Pono tried to separate the brothers.

While this situation created a scenario where murder might have occurred between the combatants at the table, this particular drama didn’t constitute any sort of confession. Lei had to push them further.

“Lawyer, dammit!” Eric bellowed. “I want a lawyer!”

Lei caught Pono’s eye, and her partner clapped cuffs on the other officer’s arms and dragged him out of the room.

Technically, neither Shayla nor Eli had asked for representation. As Lei clipped Shayla’s handcuffs to the ring on the steel table, she knew now was the time to strike.

Eli was still unrestrained, pacing like a caged animal, darting hateful glances at Shayla, who was resting her forehead on the table and sobbing.

“It’s great that you are finally breaking away from your brother.” Lei hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thick. She edged toward Eli in case she had to restrain him. “You don’t need him telling you what to do. Look at how that turned out.”

“Damn straight. Eric’s sick. He has a dark side,” Eli said. “I’m sick of being his screw-up, always taking the fall for what he comes up with.”

“So whose idea was it to kill Makoa?” Lei said matter-of-factly.

“Eric’s. He knew about Shayla inheriting Makoa’s money, and when she called me and began talking about getting back together, we both realized Makoa must be getting ready to break up with her. Shayla’s not someone who can be by herself.” Even as Eli said this, his eyes softened, looking at her bent head. “She didn’t know. She needs us.”

“She didn’t know what?” Lei probed gently.

“She didn’t know that we both loved her. And we both wanted to keep loving her. But only one of us could marry her, and that was going to be me.”

“You’re sick.” Shayla flung her hair back as she confronted Eli, her eyes flashing. “I would never have married you when I could have had Makoa.”

“You and Makoa were over. You told me yourself,” Eli said. “When you called me crying and asked that I do something. About how he was dumping you now that he’d gotten Pippa pregnant.”

Lei restrained herself from leaping in the air and doing a fist pump. She still needed to know who’d actually held Makoa under.

“Hmm, what a tough situation. You must have felt trapped,” she said.

“Yeah. I didn’t want Shayla to be left broke and brokenhearted. She told me where he was going to be surfing in the morning. It doesn’t matter anymore,” Eli said, gazing into Shayla’s eyes. “You didn’t ask me, but I knew what you were really asking me—and Eric and I took care of it.”

“Shut up, you sick, cheating pig!” Shayla screamed, jumping up. “I hate you! I hate you!” She thrashed against the restraints.

Eli stood frozen for a moment, and then Lei saw the pain in his eyes turn to something else. He lunged across the table and seized Shayla’s throat in his hands, squeezing.

Lei leaped around the table to restrain him. He let go long enough to elbow her viciously in the solar plexus, and Lei flew backward to hit the wall, the breath knocked out of her so that she couldn’t even cry for help as Eli refastened his hands around Shayla’s throat.

Shayla gurgled helplessly, unable to even lift her hands, her eyes bulging as he ruthlessly squeezed.

Lei drew her weapon and pushed forward, trying to get enough air to yell at Eli to stop, but Pono flung the door open, lunged into the room, and launched himself across the table, knocking Eli back so that he lost his grip. Eli’s face was unrecognizable with a mask of violence that distorted his features.

“Don’t move.” Lei got enough air to speak. “Don’t even breathe.”

Pono came around the table and cuffed Eli, heaving him into the corner and holding him tightly.

Shayla had collapsed over the table, her hair over her face. The second Eli was no longer a threat, Lei rushed to her, uncuffing her and turning her over. She was breathing in ragged gasps. Her bloodshot eyes opened.

“I didn’t tell him to kill Makoa,” Shayla whispered brokenly. “I didn’t.”

“I believe you didn’t use those words,” Lei said. “But I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you called Eli to complain about your imminent breakup. You’re under arrest, Shayla Cummings, for accessory to murder. And Eli Tadeo, you’re under arrest for the murder of Makoa Simmons.”

* * *

Stevens arrived at work. Sipping coffee, he sat down and tried to concentrate on the training curriculum he was putting together, but found he couldn’t focus. He kept glancing over at Eric’s empty desk and wondering how Lei’s investigation was going.

And his mother was still missing. Maybe this was a hands-on training opportunity in the offing. He picked up the phone.

An hour later, Stevens drove out of the police station, his new detective trainee, Brandon Mahoe, seated beside him in the Bronco. Brandon turned toward Stevens. He was dressed in a clean, muted aloha shirt and jeans, his longish, wiry black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, a shark tooth on a leather thong showing at the neck of his shirt.

“I can’t believe I’m not wearing my uniform right now,” he said, grinning.

“Definitely a perk of being detective,” Stevens agreed, navigating out of the parking lot. He’d gotten permission from Captain Omura and Detective Fujimoto to go out to the homeless enclaves and canvass for the dead woman they’d found yesterday, as well as for his mother. This would still the restless voice clawing at his insides, urging him into action. He knew that feeling, that voice…and it had seldom been wrong.

They pulled up to the encampment he’d left to break up the bar fight the other night. Rickety lean-tos clustered around a big green Dumpster like chicks around a hen.

Stevens got out. After Brandon slammed the Bronco’s door and joined him, he handed a folder to the junior detective. “Here are the photos. I want you to take the lead asking questions. Don’t be afraid to use pidgin. Emphasize any connection you can make with these folks. Put them at ease. Emphasize that we’re concerned for their safety and just want to make sure Ellen Stevens is alive and safe.”

“Stevens. Is this woman a relative?” Brandon’s curious brown eyes looked concerned.

“My mother.”

“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, boss.”

“I am, too. And I’m not your boss.” Stevens put his hands on his hips. “You’re the lead here. I’ll just step in if I need to.”

“Yes, sir.” Brandon took the folder from Stevens and walked into the village with a spring to his step. He dropped to his haunches beside an older man sipping from a bagged bottle inside one of the shelters.