Page 9

9

LEI

Cheryl Goodwin’s law office was a tidy red cottage with white trim tucked under a plumeria tree. Once they’d shown IDs to the receptionist, Lei introduced herself and Pono to the remaining partners. She requested a private area to speak in, and soon they were seated in a quiet conference room with a palm frond fan whirling overhead.

“What’s this about, Detectives?” Maryanne Wilbur spoke. She and June Keith appeared to be similar in age and socioeconomic status to the victim. Both had tasteful hair and makeup and were dressed in stylish business casual clothing.

“I’m very sorry to tell you bad news.” Lei observed the two women closely as she spoke. “There’s been a homicide. Your partner, Cheryl Goodwin, has been killed.”

Both women gasped in shock, their eyes widening and skin going pale in surprise and horror with no pretense in their reactions. Ms. Keith became incoherent for a bit. Neither cried though, as Pono fetched cold beverages from a nearby mini fridge and turned on a desk fan to cool them. He placed the box of tissues he’d brought in nearby, then walked Ms. Keith to the washroom to splash water on her face.

Lei let him do all that; he was better at it.

Eventually the women were able to answer some questions: they didn’t know of any threats against Goodwin, nor did they have any disgruntled employees or vengeful clients they were aware of.

“Cheryl specialized in real estate law,” Ms. Wilbur said. “Subdivisions, land transfers, renovations, new developments, things like that. Nothing dangerous like you might be thinking. No criminals on the caseload. She’s been working on a large hotel project with a mainland company for a year or two now. She’s also—I mean, was—in the middle of the permitting process on a six-hundred unit housing development.”

Ms. Keith added, “We can tell you what she was working on in general but can’t show you the files. They’re privileged.”

“What about her calendar?” Lei asked. “Can one of you go over that with me and pick out anything that might be relevant, like the name of someone she was meeting? We need to know what she was doing and who she was seeing for the past week. It’s important to put together a timeline of her activities over the last twenty-four hours.”

“Of course we want to help, but we have to maintain the confidentiality of our clients. We’ll look it over and let you know,” Ms. Wilbur said.

“Please let me know today. Timing is critical in murder investigations,” Lei pressed.

“We’ll get back to you ASAP,” Ms. Keith promised.

“Thank you. One last time—can either of you think of a reason someone might have wanted to kill her?”

They both shook their heads. “The two of us specialize in family law and business law. There are winners and losers in every lawsuit, but we don’t do criminal law. We handle divorces, and those can get messy, but Cheryl hasn’t done one in years.” Ms. Keith smoothed out wrinkles in her linen pants with a worried frown.

“We’re just beginning the investigation. We start by establishing a timeline and talking to the people who knew the victim best. None of us know what piece of information will be the key to solving the case, so anything you recall might be important.” Lei paused. “Did Cheryl have any family here on the island? Was she in a romantic relationship with anyone?”

The partners exchanged a quick glance.

“She’d been divorced about eight years,” Ms. Wilbur said. “No children. She dated occasionally, but I don’t think she had a steady relationship.”

“I agree,” Ms. Keith said. “But maybe she had an occasional thing going with a guy on the island.”

“Do you know who?”

“No, she was secretive about it, like maybe he was married.”

“Or maybe it was nothing,” Ms. Wilbur injected sharply. “Cheryl didn’t socialize a lot. She kept her private life, private. We didn’t share girl talk here at the office. I can tell you that she wasn’t the type to go out for drinks and let down her hair.”

“Did Ms. Goodwin happen to leave a key to her house or car here at the office? We have a warrant being faxed to our office, and we’d like to search the premises of her home. Looking for clues to who took her, you understand,” Pono said.

“Not sure about a key. We’ll let you into Cheryl’s office, though. You can search her desk for that with one of us present,” Ms. Wilbur said.

“What about any ‘in case of untimely demise’ instructions?” Lei asked.

Ms. Wilbur shook her head. “We will have to pull up our company bylaws and get back to you on anything that might be relevant there.”

Lei thanked them. She and Pono followed Ms. Wilbur to Goodwin’s office. The woman unlocked a frosted glass door and then gave a little sniff, putting a hand over her mouth, as she gazed at Goodwin’s desk. Facing them, a digital photo frame spun through pictures of the victim and her partners at work and play during happier times.

Lei advanced into the office. She made a beeline for the desk, her phone in her hand. Pono engaged Ms. Wilbur in asking about the photos in the frame as Lei went behind the desk, slipping on a pair of gloves. Goodwin’s calendar took up a good deal of surface and was twofold: a closed diary-style logbook rested beside a large blotter-style calendar filled with jottings.

Lei shot a quick photo of the blotter with her phone and then pulled out the central drawer of the desk. “Excellent,” she said, holding up a ring with a car fob and a Schlage door key. “She kept her spare keys here. Now, if only we can find Ms. Goodwin’s killer this quickly.”

On the way out, Lei thanked the partners for their time and handed each a business card, inviting a call if they thought of anything else and reminding them to get back to her about Goodwin’s appointment book and schedule.

Back in her truck, Lei turned to Pono. “Trying to get a search warrant for her law office is going to be difficult. Judges are attorneys too. We don’t yet have enough to make a case for a search of their client files.”

“Let’s get back to the house and see what we see there. Lucky break getting these keys. I didn’t want to have to wait on a locksmith to get the place open,” Pono said. “I’ll call TG to come and join us for the forensics.”

They rolled out, headed for the nearby Kahului Police Station. As they drove, Lei reflected on the impersonal feel of Goodwin’s office. Other than the photo frame, there was little clue to the woman’s interests or personality.

The roar of the truck’s engine filled the cab as Lei guided them back onto the highway after they picked up the search warrant. Late afternoon sun slanted through the windshield. Heat shimmered off the asphalt, and the scent of dust and plumeria blossoms drifted in through the open windows as Lei aired out the truck’s cab. She adjusted her sunglasses, glancing over at Pono, who was dialing TG to join them for forensics at the house.

As he wrapped up the call, she exhaled, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. "Well, what did you think?”

Pono grunted, his gaze on the road ahead. "Those partners were shaken, but not in a personal way. No tears, no real grief. Just shock and . . . what? Concern for the firm?"

Lei tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, considering. "Yeah. You noticed it too. It wasn’t the kind of reaction you get when someone close to you dies. It was professional. Sanitized, kind of. I mean, they were surprised, but it didn’t seem like a deep loss. More like . . . damage control."

Pono tilted his head slightly, the sunlight catching the few silver strands at his temples. "Could be the way lawyers are. Or could be that Cheryl wasn’t close to them outside of work. They made that pretty clear—no girl talk, no drinks after-hours."

“What about that photo frame, though? Looks like they had some good times at some point.” The office had had a crisp organization about it right down to the faint scent of lemon polish clinging to the air. “Her workspace was cold. Clean, but impersonal. There’s no way you spend years somewhere and leave almost no mark unless you’re either a ghost or you don’t want people knowing much about you."

"So, what do we think? Workaholic? Or someone with secrets?"

"Maybe both." Lei sighed. “Katie told me she was handling big deals, and not the kind that made her popular. Resort expansions, land transfers, zoning battles—she wasn’t just pushing papers, she was changing landscapes. And when you do that, you make enemies."

"Yeah, but the partners claimed they weren’t aware of any threats." Pono said. "Either they’re in the dark, or they’re pretending to be."

The wind tugged a curl loose from her ponytail. Lei batted it out of her eyes and rolled up her window, engaging the air-conditioning. "They were careful with their words, weren’t they? ‘No criminals on the caseload.’ Maybe technically true, but—real estate law in Hawaii? You don’t have to be dealing with mobsters to be dealing with bad people. Money brings sharks, and Cheryl Goodwin was swimming in deep waters."

“Agreed. And speaking of sharks, that leiomano as the murder weapon bugs me. You don’t just find one of those lying around. It's a very specific killing tool, tied to culture and history. Someone used it to send a message."

Lei’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Likely. Once we figure out what the message is, it’ll help us find whoever sent it. Hopefully TG had a look at that brick fragment and can tell us something when we see him. Anyway, we need to see how she lived . . what she surrounded herself with when she wasn’t playing legal bulldozer."

Pono nodded. "Then let’s hope her house has more personality than her office."

The road stretched ahead, winding through the green hills of Wailuku Heights, the sun dipping lower, casting the landscape in a golden glow. Birds flitted through the huge, spreading monkeypod trees lining the road.

Cheryl Goodwin had lived a structured, controlled life; but someone had torn through that facade, killing her brutally and leaving her violated and displayed in a humiliating way. Lei had to know why.