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LEI
“I need you to drive when we go do the death notification,” Lei told Pono when she reached their shared cubicle. “I’m trashed after the trip to the crater and manhandling that gurney with the body on it over the lava. Not to mention Katie making my head spin down in the Cave. I need a little break and some coffee to kick in before we do the home visit for Jonas Kleftes.”
Pono spun to face her in his aged office chair, making a steeple with his meaty fingers. “What did Katie have to say about her first witness interview in the field? Other than that she has the hots for that young photographer guy, Jeff Brian.”
“The hots. You so old-school.” Lei chuckled, reaching for her thermal car mug. “She loved her outing. How’d she do?”
“I’ve got no complaints. I let her ride down with the witnesses to get Jeff Brian’s photos; that was a judgement call that I hope you’re okay with.”
“Yeah. Nothing happened but them hitting it off; she wants to date him.” Lei rolled her eyes. “Ah, youth.”
Pono rubbed his bristly mustache. “I saw that coming. I hope you had the ‘can’t date a witness on an active investigation’ talk.”
“Didn’t have to. Katie figured it out on her own. She seems to think Brian’s got no involvement in the crime, but I’m always suspicious of the first reporter. Nine times out of ten, it’s no accident they’re the ones to blow the whistle on a crime.”
“Maybe more like seven times out of ten, but yeah. Meanwhile, as Katie was going down the mountain with the witnesses, I stayed behind to interview Ranger Mahili and make sure he was willing to let us handle the investigation. He is onboard, a hundred percent. He’s short-staffed of every kind of personnel right now, and their investigator is on the continent for some kind of training.” Pono shut down his computer. “What else did Katie have worked up for us, as far as information?”
Lei filled him in on the connections Katie had made between the victims as they packed up to leave for Kleftes’s residence and the use of the brick on several local developments. Pono followed Lei to the break room as she stopped in to fill her travel mug with coffee.
She took a minute to plug in the fancy coffeemaker her tech friend Sophie had bought for the department. She loaded a pod of dark roast espresso into the machine and poured in water. “I need the good stuff today.”
“Did you get lunch?” Pono asked. His head was already inside the staff fridge. “Mahili gave me one of the sandwiches from their lounge, but I’m ready for a snack.”
Lei’s stomach rumbled as if in agreement. “You know what? No. Maybe that’s why I’m running out of juice. Grab me one of those Hot Pockets from the freezer. I’ll nuke it and eat it on the way.”
“And you’ll chase that junk food down with caffeine,” Pono said with a shudder. “You never cease to amaze me, Sweets. All your lectures about health and look at the way you eat.”
“Hey. I try to get my four food groups in every day. Coffee, coffee with creamer, more coffee, and something microwaveable,” Lei said. She patted her lean hip. “And I’ve got the body to prove it’s working.”
“Genetics. Unfair advantage,” Pono said. “Maybe you’d have more stable energy if you planned better and ate healthy throughout the day, like Tiare’s been teaching me.” He produced a Tupperware container and brandished it. “Check out the hard-boiled eggs and carrot sticks she made me for an afternoon pickup.”
“And if I had a wife like Tiare, I’d be eating good too,” Lei said. “Unfair advantage, is right.”
“Good thing your intern rounded out my calories with a Spam musubi this morning.”
“Ah, Pono! Bad boy.”
“I’ll eat my carrot sticks but only if I get a break now and then.” They bickered companionably until her coffee and Hot Pocket were ready, then headed out the door.
Lei hopped up on the chrome step to get into Stanley’s cab. She sniffed once inside. “Your engine’s still hot. Or your brakes. Stinky.”
“Yeah. Stanley doesn’t like doing ten thousand feet in elevation before noon. Or ever,” Pono said, patting the welded chain-link steering wheel. “Sorry, buddy. Next time I’ll check a cruiser out of the motor pool and save the wear and tear.”
“Good idea.” Lei sipped her coffee and alternated that with tentative bites of the overly hot pizza pocket. “You’re right this time, Pono. This flavor combo is raunchy. Cannot recommend.”
“Carrot stick?” He held one out. “Palate cleanser.”
“Yum.” Lei took it and crunched. Once she’d finished, she reclined her seat. “Wake me up when we get there. We need to be fresh for this one. Jonas Kleftes left behind a young wife and a baby daughter. This is not going to be fun.”
Pono groaned. “I’m already hating this fake Hawaiian killer.”
“How do you know the killer’s a fake Hawaiian? So far the stuff with the bodies and the outfits the victims wore are pretty authentic-looking replicas.”
“Because no true Hawaiian would shame and desecrate our sacred places this way,” Pono said grimly.
Her partner was right.
Lei shut her eyes, trying to relax and recharge a little before they arrived at the Kleftes’s door, carrying with them the worst news any family could receive.
* * *
The Kleftes home was located in Upper Kula, a bedroom community halfway up Haleakala consisting of a variety of small farms, older homes, and new showplaces. “You didn’t tell me the address was up the mountain so I could get that cruiser from the motor pool,” Pono scolded, as once again Stanley’s engine heated up, this time while ascending steep Puleihuiki Road, a one-lane, narrow tributary leading past a persimmon farm and a field of Maui onions.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize.” Lei sat up. Her brief rest, and possibly the combo of food and caffeine, had restored her somewhat. “We must be almost there.”
And they were—the entrance to the Kleftes address appeared abruptly on the left, a pair of beautifully sculpted copper gates featuring a moon and stars welded into a constellation, the details picked out in gold leaf.
“Wow,” Lei said as they turned to stop in front of the gate. “This guy wasn’t short on dinero .”
“Katie told you he was a real estate venture capitalist,” Pono reminded.
A motion sensor must have spotted them because the gates swung open to reveal a driveway lined in olive trees. Pono drove forward, and they meandered along a graveled drive for a bit, eventually pulling into a circular turnaround featuring a fountain covered in colorful hand-printed tiles.
This gracious display fronted a Mediterranean-style mansion made of creamy stucco with a terra-cotta roof. Arched windows and a wide, tiled verandah framed by potted, full-size fern trees made a welcoming entrance. A child’s tricycle was parked beside the large, distressed wood double front door.
That trike was a heartbreaking sight. Lei and Stevens’s daughter Rosie was about the age of the little Kleftes girl. Lei tried to imagine how Rosie would react to the news that her beloved Papa was never coming home.
“Proof right here that money can’t keep away the grim reaper.” Pono rubbed his mustache with a finger, brows furrowed. “You do the honors. I’ll distract the kid.”
Lei sighed. “Okay.” Her chest was tight with dread.
They got out and approached the front door. The same sensor that opened the gate had alerted the mistress of the house; she opened one side of the double door and stood framed in it, a toddler on her hip, as they crossed the verandah.
The little girl had a halo of fluffy black curls and tawny brown skin; she looked like her mother, a pretty woman in a colorful muumuu.
Lei had expected Kleftes’s wife to be Caucasian, since he was white. Funny how those assumptions crept in.
They held up their credential wallets for the woman to see as they approached. “Hello, Mrs. Kleftes. I’m Sergeant Leilani Texeira, and this is my partner, Detective Pono Kaihale. May we come inside? We have some important news about your husband.”
“He didn’t come home last night. I was about to call the police.” Miranda Kleftes had one hand on the door and the other held her daughter clasped tightly to her hip. Her posture was rigid; her full lips had gone taut and drained of color. “And now, here are the police. This can’t be good.”
“I think it would be best if you got your child settled so we can speak freely,” Lei said with all the kindness she could infuse into her tone.
Mrs. Kleftes turned away, leaving the door ajar so they could follow her through a small entry lined with bright pots of orchids. The living room beyond was enormous, with a bank of windows facing out to frame the vista of sea, sky, and West Maui Mountains that was available from this position on Haleakala.
Murmuring softly, Mrs. Kleftes settled the toddler on a beanbag in a corner of the room, facing away from them and toward a little carpeted play area lined with toys. She put a bright pink pair of headphones on the little girl’s head and gave her a rubber-padded electronic tablet. Once the tot was engaged, she turned to face them.
A beat went by. Lei struggled to find words; as often as she did this, it never got easier. But in the end, she didn’t have to say a word. Miranda Kleftes’s large brown eyes filled with tears; her hands clasped together, rising to press against her chest. Her voice came out hoarse and broken as she said, “Jonas isn’t coming back, is he?”
“No, Mrs. Kleftes. I’m afraid he’s not,” Lei said.
The woman fainted so abruptly Lei didn’t have time to move.
Thankfully Pono, who’d seen it coming, lunged forward to catch her head and shoulders just in time to prevent Miranda from slamming face-first into the hard tile floor. He lifted Mrs. Kleftes in brawny arms and lay her down on a nearby distressed leather couch. “She’s pregnant,” he announced quietly. “There’s a baby bump under this muumuu.”
“Aw, no,” Lei whispered. “That baby will never know its father.” Lei’s legs had gone rubbery with the shock of what had just happened to Miranda Kleftes, a near miss as the pregnant widow almost injured herself.
Lei collapsed onto the couch beside the woman’s prone body. “Did I mention I hate this killer?”
“No, that was me,” Pono said over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water for the victim—because that was what Miranda Kleftes—and her children, born and unborn—were. Their lives would never be the same.
Lei fanned Mrs. Kleftes with a magazine she grabbed from the coffee table as Pono returned with a glass of cold water.
The living room was filled with the scent of the orchids from the entryway, a delicate fragrance that seemed at odds with the gravity of the situation. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting a warm glow that highlighted dust motes dancing in the air; but even in the peaceful setting, the atmosphere was tense and heavy.
Miranda Kleftes stirred, her eyelashes fluttering as she came to. Pono knelt beside her, offering the glass. Her hand shook as she took it, sitting up to sip the water slowly, doe eyes focusing on Lei with a mixture of fear and resignation in their depths. “What happened?”
“Your husband was killed. It was not natural causes.”
Miranda handed the glass back to Pono and lay down on her side. “I need to rest. I don’t feel well.”
This kind of news could only be digested in stages; they would tell her more when she was ready.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Pono asked.
She told him a name and gave him a number; Pono stood and walked into the kitchen to make the call.
“I’m sorry to have to discuss this now, but we need to gather some information,” Lei began, her voice soft but firm. “Time is of the essence in a situation like this. You mentioned your husband went to Haleakala last night to take pictures?”
Miranda nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Yes, he’s been excited about capturing the star trails. He left just after dinner . . . he loved his night photography sessions. They were his ‘me time.’”
Pono, who had finished with his call, returned. “Your friend is on her way, Mrs. Kleftes. Would it be all right if we took a look at his office? There might be something there that could help us understand what happened.”
She hesitated for a moment, then gestured towards a hallway. “His office den is down there, last door on the right. Please, help yourself to anything.”
Lei and Pono expressed their thanks and proceeded down the hallway.
The office was a stark contrast to the airy, sunlit living room. This was a meticulously organized space with a distinctly personal touch. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with photography books, astronomy guides, and several thick binders labeled by year and location. Kleftes’s desk, a large koa wood affair, faced a window that offered a view of the lush backyard which had been planted in rows of grapevines.
Pono began examining the bookshelves while Lei sifted through the papers on the desk. Among the neatly stacked papers, Lei found a planner. Flipping it open, she noted Jonas’s appointments and photography plans noted meticulously. She moved the planner into the light falling through a nearby window and photographed the pages in case they were useful.
In the top drawer of the desk, Pono discovered a cache of paperwork amidst the photography notes and equipment manuals. These were business documents, some with headings relating to land acquisitions, and others to real estate investment ventures. Buried beneath these was a small, locked box.
“Found something,” Pono called out, holding up the box. “Seems like Kleftes kept some documents locked away. Might be worth checking this out.”
Lei joined him, her gaze narrowing on the box. “Let’s ask Mrs. Kleftes if she knows where the key might be.”
They returned to the living room. Miranda Kleftes was now sitting upright, her head in her hands, as the little girl sat quietly absorbed in her tablet nearby.
“Mrs. Kleftes, we found a locked box in your husband’s desk. Do you know where the key might be?” Lei asked gently.
The woman looked puzzled for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes, he keeps that key on his house keychain. It should be in the kitchen, on the hook by the fridge.”
Lei fetched the keychain and unlocked the box, revealing more documents and a couple of USB drives. The contents looked potentially significant—contracts, nondisclosure agreements, and financial statements that didn't seem to align with Jonas’s photography hobby or personal and family papers.
As Lei flipped through the documents, her instincts told her something more than human sacrifice was going on with these killings. They were connected and had something to do with real estate development. She addressed Pono. “As soon as Mrs. Kleftes’s friend gets here, let’s get these drives to Katie. The common denominator tying the victims together might be right here.”
Table of Contents
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