The Lava Witch, page 3
Walter shook his head. “I’ll organize the additional soil collection up at the crime scene and let you handle the interview, if it’s okay. But go ahead and take Hara with you—or go alone if you feel it might be less traumatic for the brother to talk to just you.”
Kali weighed her choices, aware that Hara, who had returned to his own desk, was still trying not to show that he was listening. “I think I’ll make this trip alone,” she said. She lowered her voice. “Why don’t you send Hara up there with the SOC team? It will be educational for him.”
Walter tilted his head, looking from Kali to Hara and back to Kali. “You think he has a detective badge in his future?”
She thought before she answered. “I do, yes. If he wants it. But I guess there’s always the chance he might become a film star instead.” She got up. “Try to be nice to him, Walter. Maybe someday he’ll invite you to a big premiere party.”
CHAPTER 4
Charlie Holmes sat across from Kali in the small living room of his condominium, his head in his hands. His distress filled the room—a blend of anger and despair that was so strong Kali could feel it physically pulsing against her. She took a deep breath, watching him closely as she spoke.
“I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now,” she said, her voice as calm as she could make it. “Thank you for helping us go through your sister’s belongings. And I apologize for the questions I’m going to have to ask you. Please understand that our goal—my goal—is to find out who was responsible for what happened to your sister, and to make sure that person, or persons, faces justice for their actions.”
He looked up, his swollen face streaked with tears. There was a wild look in his eyes. “Do you realize I had to supply an alibi to prove I didn’t do this thing?” He shook his head. “And justice? What does that mean? Jail? If these people are found, and if a jury even convicts?” He laughed, the sound somewhere between darkness and hysteria. He began to bang his fist on the table, over and over.
Kali sat without speaking, waiting for him to be ready to continue the conversation. He stopped his pounding and took a deep breath.
“You think I don’t read the news?” he asked. “That I’m unaware of how many depraved people get away with doing terrible, unspeakable things to others?” He swore. “Justice. There’s no such thing. Even if someone is rightfully convicted and goes to prison, they still have their life. They still have breakfast, and dinner, and a place to sleep, and maybe even the prospect of release to look forward to someday. Justice.”
“I can promise you . . .”
“Promise me? Promise me what? That you’ll find who did this to Maya and make sure they’re tortured and then strung up from a tree like a piece of meat? As if they didn’t matter?” His voice broke, and he turned away from her.
She could see that his whole body was trembling, his anger and grief enveloping him. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “Please believe me. And I know that there’s no way to make up for what’s happened.” She watched him for a few moments, gauging whether it was time to go on. “If you’d like to wait for a day or so before we talk, we can do that, but I have to tell you that the longer we delay . . .”
“The less likely it is that you’ll pick up a trail, right? Isn’t that the lingo they use in the movies?”
She nodded. “Yes. Something like that,” she said. “But I’m afraid it’s actually true—the longer the head start a criminal has, the more time they have to go into hiding or develop an alibi. If it was someone from off-island, I don’t want them on a plane or a boat. I want them here, where I can find them.”
He seemed to recognize the sincerity in her words. He wiped at his face, the gesture automatic, as if he were unaware of the action. “I appreciate that. I . . . I guess I just don’t understand any of this. Why someone would do this to Maya. Or to anyone.”
“Let’s start there, then. Can you tell me about your sister? Anything and everything. Her daily life, her hobbies, her friends and enemies. Tell me about her work, and her favorite places. What she liked and didn’t like. What was important to her.”
Charlie nodded, the gesture slow and sad. For the next hour, Kali listened as Charlie stumbled over his memories, trying to describe to Kali who Maya had been. He told her how his older sister had been an avid hiker and trail runner, and a proficient surfer. He said that she loved animals, especially cats, and had planned to adopt one from the local shelter. They’d grown up in San Diego, and Maya spent hours on weekends and during summer breaks volunteering on beach clean-up committees. She’d left San Diego to earn her bachelor’s degree from the University of Hawai‘i’s Hawai‘i Island campus while he’d stayed on in California to finish high school and begin his studies in marine biology through a program at Scripps Institution of Oceanography. He’d missed her, and had decided to leave the program in order to move to the islands to be close to her. For the past year and a half, they’d shared this small condo close to the research facility where she worked and the sea turtle conservation center where he was employed.
“We’re just a year apart in age, and we’ve always been close,” he said. “Our parents each worked two jobs so that we could go to college without having the burden of student loans, so my sister and I were on our own a lot. Maya was . . . well, indomitable is a good way to describe her. She wasn’t afraid of failing, you know?” He sat quietly for a moment, some of his emotion spent. “If someone told her, ‘That will be really hard,’ or ‘You can’t do that, you’re just a girl from a poor family,’ it would make her even more determined to do it. Some jerk she worked with told her she’d never be able to get through the Ironman competition in Kona, but she just kept training for it and competed in it last year.” He smiled, the expression conveying an infinite sadness. “She’d never raced in a triathlon before, but she finished in the top fifty. She was my hero.”
Listening to Charlie describe his sister, Kali felt a sense of loss that was unrelated to having personally known her.
“I’m really sorry,” said Kali. “The world needs people like that. People who aren’t afraid.” She waited a minute, allowing him to gather his thoughts, then continued. “You mentioned that this person she worked with was giving her a hard time. Can you tell me more about that?”
“Oh, that wasn’t really anything except some arrogant guy who was intimidated by her.” He looked up at Kali. “Not physically, that’s not what I mean. But she was the most focused human being I’ve ever known, and I think her colleague judged himself against that, or something. And she was brilliant, always thinking up things that no one else had ever considered. It got her top honors in college, and a lot of job offers. Plus a scholarship to begin her graduate work.”
“But she chose to accept a position here on Maui?”
“Yes. At the end of her senior year, she did a summer internship with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration—NOAA—and had been hoping they’d offer her a permanent position in the fall. But then she got a better call from someone she knew who’d been named the director of an important research group and wanted her to join his small staff.”
“She was a researcher?”
“Yeah, partly. She loved research, she loved inventing things. I mean, really loved it. She was always coming up with new ideas, and won some pretty prestigious awards for innovation in college. But her degree was in mechanical engineering technology, and she specialized in the sonar field.”
He explained that his sister had accepted a position at CMMR on Maui after her former course advisor had been named director and had reached out to her about a job opening.
He hesitated. “She thought it was a good opportunity, given that she’d only just started her master’s program. She really just wanted to stay in school and go on to get her doctorate degree, too, but it’s so expensive. She had that scholarship to start, but we both learned from our parents about not taking on long-term debt, and she thought if she could work at the research center for a couple of years and save up while working on her master’s, she could continue on with her studies and eventually get the PhD she wanted. She . . . she would have been the first person in all of our family to get an advanced degree.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I don’t know. Maybe someday. Right now, it doesn’t seem important. But I want to have some kind of career in the marine life field.” He gave a short laugh, a rueful sound. “I don’t really think I have much of a head for hard science, but I really love sea creatures, especially octopuses. I guess if I’m honest with myself, what I’d really like to do is work in a marine rehabilitation center, helping injured animals before setting them free. Right now I’m getting a lot of satisfaction working with a group that rescues and studies sea turtles.”
“I like that,” said Kali.
“Yeah. I also volunteer a few hours a week at the rehab facility we have at the aquarium. Maya used to like to come there with me.”
They sat for a few moments as Charlie gathered his thoughts. Kali looked around the room. There was nothing remarkable about it. The television screen seemed larger than necessary, but the furniture was basic and generic. There were a few shelves on one wall that held a mélange of items—a set of speakers, a few film DVDs, a pair of headphones, and several cookbooks. On the small table at the end of the sofa next to where Charlie sat was a lamp and a framed photograph. Kali wandered over to the shelf, looking more closely at the display. Next to the DVDs was a decorative set of tarot cards and a stuffed octopus that looked like a child’s toy. Kali waited until she felt he was ready to go on talking, then sat back down. She leaned toward him and spoke gently.
“Are those tarot cards yours?”
He shook his head. “No, I think someone gave them to Maya. Some woman she worked with.” He looked introspective. “She didn’t have any interest in that kind of thing. You know, the occult or stuff like that. But the artwork on the cards was done by some famous contemporary artist, and she thought they were too nice to just throw away or donate.”
“Have you ever used them?”
Again, he shook his head. “I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with them.”
She watched him, trying to evaluate his present capacity to discuss the more personal details of his sister’s life.
“Charlie, did Maya have a boyfriend or a partner?”
He looked at her. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant.
“No. You were looking at that stuffed toy on the shelf a minute ago, right? She gave that to me on account of how much I like animals.” He turned his gaze momentarily to the shelf, then back to Kali. “I guess this might be hard for some people to understand, but she wasn’t really interested in romantic relationships. Part of that is because of the way she was always treated, especially by men. All through childhood and school, everyone always made a fuss about her looks. How beautiful she was. She used to hate—really hate—when people called her striking or exotic. As if it took away from her intellect or something.” He reached over to the end table beside him and lifted the framed photo, handing it to Kali.
In it, Maya and Charlie were standing side by side in front of a large glass wall. Behind the glass, an enormous, graceful octopus was poised in the act of swimming by. Charlie was grinning, and Maya was gazing at him, a wide smile on her face. Kali studied the image. Charlie was correct: Maya had been a truly stunning woman. Kali looked at her long neck and delicate cheekbones, at the rich browns in her thick hair, at the tall, graceful figure. It felt odd to see her this way, filled with life and vitality, and to remember the bruised, silent body she’d encountered in the forest.
She handed the photo back to Charlie.
“No romantic interests?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s had a couple of boyfriends, but nothing serious. She maybe went out with them a few times, but there’s been nobody for a few years. Definitely not since I’ve been living here with her.”
“What about friends in general?”
Charlie frowned. “No one really close. There were a couple of women from work that she’d see for lunch now and then, but she trained mostly alone and was really involved in her research. She used to meet one of those women now and then to run or swim, but she preferred to do those things on her own. It used to worry me that someday she’d wind up all by herself, surrounded by nothing but awards for her work and a bunch of sports trophies.”
“Okay,” said Kali. “That’s all really useful.” She waited a moment. “If you could give me the name of her boss, those people that she dated, her lunch friends, the jealous colleague you mentioned, and anyone else you think might be able to tell us anything about her movements over the past few days, it would be a great help. Also, we’ll need her cell phone and computer. Do you happen to know where those things might be?”
Charlie thought for a moment. “She had two computers. One for work, and one for personal stuff—both of them were laptops. I guess her work computer might be at the lab, but I don’t know where the personal one is since it doesn’t seem to be in the house. The police who were here before you asked about that, too, but they couldn’t find it.”
“And her car?”
“Oh.” Charlie seemed genuinely surprised. “Her car. I never even thought about it.” He looked up at her, a bewildered expression on his face. “I guess I don’t have any idea where it is.”
CHAPTER 5
Kali got Maya’s phone number and car plate information from Charlie and called them in so that tracing could begin. She left him sitting on the sofa and stepped into Maya’s bedroom. It was tidy and well organized. Clothes hung on racks in the closet, the bed was made, and the curtains were drawn back from the windows, allowing sunlight to illuminate the small space.
Feeling like an intruder, Kali went through the closet, dresser, and desk, finding nothing that seemed out of place or in any way connected to an interest in Hawaiian ceremonies, or anything dark that might have suggested her involvement with people given to violence. There were no letters or cards, except for two birthday cards. One was from her parents, and one had been signed by Charlie. Both were sitting on top of the chest of drawers.
The SOC team had been thorough, and there was nothing obvious to be discerned beyond an apparent loyalty to certain clothing brands, and an interest in difficult jigsaw puzzles. Maya had amassed quite a collection, including several wooden puzzles that had been hand-cut and looked satisfyingly complicated. They were stacked on the floor next to the bookcase, the top box displaying the image of a jewel-handled sword. The bookshelves were filled with textbooks and thick tomes on ocean mining. Kali had a fleeting thought that she would have enjoyed the puzzles, but that the book choices looked intensely boring.
She stood in the middle of the room, feeling vaguely voyeuristic—the same feeling she had experienced in other rooms that had belonged to strangers who were destined never to return to the spaces they’d filled with meaningful belongings. She looked around again. Every choice—from the worn denim jacket with the embroidered flowers on the back, to the shade of yellow of the bedding, to the hairbrush resting on the top of the chest of drawers next to the birthday cards—had been made by a woman who no longer had any use for them.
Kali closed her eyes, trying to still her mind. She breathed deeply, controlling her exhalations, letting herself be open to any small stirring or nuance that might suggest that something was missing or out of place—a balance that had been disturbed.
There was nothing. Just silence, and the small noises made by the automatic fan system on the air-conditioning unit. Kali walked back into the living room where Charlie still sat on the edge of the sofa, exactly where she’d left him.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice gentle, “you could just have another look through your sister’s room for me after I’ve gone? Tell me if you think there’s anything missing, or anything new that you’ve never noticed before. I know that sounds strange, but even the smallest diversion from her normal life could be helpful.”
He nodded without looking up. She could see that he was rocking slightly, his upper body moving back and forth with tiny, controlled movements. He’s trying not to cry again, she thought, and was again swept with the sense that she was an intruder on an intensely private moment. She remembered how others had tried to comfort her when her fiancé and fellow police detective Mike Shirai had been gunned down during a drug raid, how nothing had eased the sense of loss and despair or her fierce, consuming anger. No one, she acknowledged, can truly understand another’s grief. Maybe the best thing I can do for Charlie, Kali told herself, is to leave him be.
Pulling a card from her wallet, she scribbled her private cell phone number beneath the number and e-mail for the police station, and left it on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“I left you both of my phone numbers, Charlie. Please feel free to call me anytime. Anytime at all.”
Charlie made no move, so she let herself out, walking slowly along the portico that connected Charlie’s condo to the others on the same row, leading to the parking area behind the building. She stepped around a series of puddles, then climbed into the driver’s seat of her aging Jeep. She sat there, lost in thought, only stirring when a car pulled into the spot beside her and the driver’s blaring music blasted through the car’s open windows to jolt her back into alertness. She pulled out slowly, leaving behind the music and the lone figure on the sofa, wrapped in sorrow.
* * *
Later, at home, Kali sat at the table and ate her evening meal, assembled from bowls of leftover rice, fish, and grilled papaya sitting in the refrigerator. As she stood at the sink and washed the dish and silverware she’d used, she listened to the sound of Hilo snoring from his cushion, where the massive dog—the result of a brief romantic encounter between a Weimaraner and a Great Dane—lay with his forelegs stretched over the cushion’s edge. She watched him for a moment, coming to the conclusion that the dog was on the right track when it came to prioritizing. Outside the window, the light was fading, and she felt drained from the long day. An early night seemed like an excellent idea.
Kali weighed her choices, aware that Hara, who had returned to his own desk, was still trying not to show that he was listening. “I think I’ll make this trip alone,” she said. She lowered her voice. “Why don’t you send Hara up there with the SOC team? It will be educational for him.”
Walter tilted his head, looking from Kali to Hara and back to Kali. “You think he has a detective badge in his future?”
She thought before she answered. “I do, yes. If he wants it. But I guess there’s always the chance he might become a film star instead.” She got up. “Try to be nice to him, Walter. Maybe someday he’ll invite you to a big premiere party.”
CHAPTER 4
Charlie Holmes sat across from Kali in the small living room of his condominium, his head in his hands. His distress filled the room—a blend of anger and despair that was so strong Kali could feel it physically pulsing against her. She took a deep breath, watching him closely as she spoke.
“I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now,” she said, her voice as calm as she could make it. “Thank you for helping us go through your sister’s belongings. And I apologize for the questions I’m going to have to ask you. Please understand that our goal—my goal—is to find out who was responsible for what happened to your sister, and to make sure that person, or persons, faces justice for their actions.”
He looked up, his swollen face streaked with tears. There was a wild look in his eyes. “Do you realize I had to supply an alibi to prove I didn’t do this thing?” He shook his head. “And justice? What does that mean? Jail? If these people are found, and if a jury even convicts?” He laughed, the sound somewhere between darkness and hysteria. He began to bang his fist on the table, over and over.
Kali sat without speaking, waiting for him to be ready to continue the conversation. He stopped his pounding and took a deep breath.
“You think I don’t read the news?” he asked. “That I’m unaware of how many depraved people get away with doing terrible, unspeakable things to others?” He swore. “Justice. There’s no such thing. Even if someone is rightfully convicted and goes to prison, they still have their life. They still have breakfast, and dinner, and a place to sleep, and maybe even the prospect of release to look forward to someday. Justice.”
“I can promise you . . .”
“Promise me? Promise me what? That you’ll find who did this to Maya and make sure they’re tortured and then strung up from a tree like a piece of meat? As if they didn’t matter?” His voice broke, and he turned away from her.
She could see that his whole body was trembling, his anger and grief enveloping him. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “Please believe me. And I know that there’s no way to make up for what’s happened.” She watched him for a few moments, gauging whether it was time to go on. “If you’d like to wait for a day or so before we talk, we can do that, but I have to tell you that the longer we delay . . .”
“The less likely it is that you’ll pick up a trail, right? Isn’t that the lingo they use in the movies?”
She nodded. “Yes. Something like that,” she said. “But I’m afraid it’s actually true—the longer the head start a criminal has, the more time they have to go into hiding or develop an alibi. If it was someone from off-island, I don’t want them on a plane or a boat. I want them here, where I can find them.”
He seemed to recognize the sincerity in her words. He wiped at his face, the gesture automatic, as if he were unaware of the action. “I appreciate that. I . . . I guess I just don’t understand any of this. Why someone would do this to Maya. Or to anyone.”
“Let’s start there, then. Can you tell me about your sister? Anything and everything. Her daily life, her hobbies, her friends and enemies. Tell me about her work, and her favorite places. What she liked and didn’t like. What was important to her.”
Charlie nodded, the gesture slow and sad. For the next hour, Kali listened as Charlie stumbled over his memories, trying to describe to Kali who Maya had been. He told her how his older sister had been an avid hiker and trail runner, and a proficient surfer. He said that she loved animals, especially cats, and had planned to adopt one from the local shelter. They’d grown up in San Diego, and Maya spent hours on weekends and during summer breaks volunteering on beach clean-up committees. She’d left San Diego to earn her bachelor’s degree from the University of Hawai‘i’s Hawai‘i Island campus while he’d stayed on in California to finish high school and begin his studies in marine biology through a program at Scripps Institution of Oceanography. He’d missed her, and had decided to leave the program in order to move to the islands to be close to her. For the past year and a half, they’d shared this small condo close to the research facility where she worked and the sea turtle conservation center where he was employed.
“We’re just a year apart in age, and we’ve always been close,” he said. “Our parents each worked two jobs so that we could go to college without having the burden of student loans, so my sister and I were on our own a lot. Maya was . . . well, indomitable is a good way to describe her. She wasn’t afraid of failing, you know?” He sat quietly for a moment, some of his emotion spent. “If someone told her, ‘That will be really hard,’ or ‘You can’t do that, you’re just a girl from a poor family,’ it would make her even more determined to do it. Some jerk she worked with told her she’d never be able to get through the Ironman competition in Kona, but she just kept training for it and competed in it last year.” He smiled, the expression conveying an infinite sadness. “She’d never raced in a triathlon before, but she finished in the top fifty. She was my hero.”
Listening to Charlie describe his sister, Kali felt a sense of loss that was unrelated to having personally known her.
“I’m really sorry,” said Kali. “The world needs people like that. People who aren’t afraid.” She waited a minute, allowing him to gather his thoughts, then continued. “You mentioned that this person she worked with was giving her a hard time. Can you tell me more about that?”
“Oh, that wasn’t really anything except some arrogant guy who was intimidated by her.” He looked up at Kali. “Not physically, that’s not what I mean. But she was the most focused human being I’ve ever known, and I think her colleague judged himself against that, or something. And she was brilliant, always thinking up things that no one else had ever considered. It got her top honors in college, and a lot of job offers. Plus a scholarship to begin her graduate work.”
“But she chose to accept a position here on Maui?”
“Yes. At the end of her senior year, she did a summer internship with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration—NOAA—and had been hoping they’d offer her a permanent position in the fall. But then she got a better call from someone she knew who’d been named the director of an important research group and wanted her to join his small staff.”
“She was a researcher?”
“Yeah, partly. She loved research, she loved inventing things. I mean, really loved it. She was always coming up with new ideas, and won some pretty prestigious awards for innovation in college. But her degree was in mechanical engineering technology, and she specialized in the sonar field.”
He explained that his sister had accepted a position at CMMR on Maui after her former course advisor had been named director and had reached out to her about a job opening.
He hesitated. “She thought it was a good opportunity, given that she’d only just started her master’s program. She really just wanted to stay in school and go on to get her doctorate degree, too, but it’s so expensive. She had that scholarship to start, but we both learned from our parents about not taking on long-term debt, and she thought if she could work at the research center for a couple of years and save up while working on her master’s, she could continue on with her studies and eventually get the PhD she wanted. She . . . she would have been the first person in all of our family to get an advanced degree.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I don’t know. Maybe someday. Right now, it doesn’t seem important. But I want to have some kind of career in the marine life field.” He gave a short laugh, a rueful sound. “I don’t really think I have much of a head for hard science, but I really love sea creatures, especially octopuses. I guess if I’m honest with myself, what I’d really like to do is work in a marine rehabilitation center, helping injured animals before setting them free. Right now I’m getting a lot of satisfaction working with a group that rescues and studies sea turtles.”
“I like that,” said Kali.
“Yeah. I also volunteer a few hours a week at the rehab facility we have at the aquarium. Maya used to like to come there with me.”
They sat for a few moments as Charlie gathered his thoughts. Kali looked around the room. There was nothing remarkable about it. The television screen seemed larger than necessary, but the furniture was basic and generic. There were a few shelves on one wall that held a mélange of items—a set of speakers, a few film DVDs, a pair of headphones, and several cookbooks. On the small table at the end of the sofa next to where Charlie sat was a lamp and a framed photograph. Kali wandered over to the shelf, looking more closely at the display. Next to the DVDs was a decorative set of tarot cards and a stuffed octopus that looked like a child’s toy. Kali waited until she felt he was ready to go on talking, then sat back down. She leaned toward him and spoke gently.
“Are those tarot cards yours?”
He shook his head. “No, I think someone gave them to Maya. Some woman she worked with.” He looked introspective. “She didn’t have any interest in that kind of thing. You know, the occult or stuff like that. But the artwork on the cards was done by some famous contemporary artist, and she thought they were too nice to just throw away or donate.”
“Have you ever used them?”
Again, he shook his head. “I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with them.”
She watched him, trying to evaluate his present capacity to discuss the more personal details of his sister’s life.
“Charlie, did Maya have a boyfriend or a partner?”
He looked at her. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant.
“No. You were looking at that stuffed toy on the shelf a minute ago, right? She gave that to me on account of how much I like animals.” He turned his gaze momentarily to the shelf, then back to Kali. “I guess this might be hard for some people to understand, but she wasn’t really interested in romantic relationships. Part of that is because of the way she was always treated, especially by men. All through childhood and school, everyone always made a fuss about her looks. How beautiful she was. She used to hate—really hate—when people called her striking or exotic. As if it took away from her intellect or something.” He reached over to the end table beside him and lifted the framed photo, handing it to Kali.
In it, Maya and Charlie were standing side by side in front of a large glass wall. Behind the glass, an enormous, graceful octopus was poised in the act of swimming by. Charlie was grinning, and Maya was gazing at him, a wide smile on her face. Kali studied the image. Charlie was correct: Maya had been a truly stunning woman. Kali looked at her long neck and delicate cheekbones, at the rich browns in her thick hair, at the tall, graceful figure. It felt odd to see her this way, filled with life and vitality, and to remember the bruised, silent body she’d encountered in the forest.
She handed the photo back to Charlie.
“No romantic interests?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s had a couple of boyfriends, but nothing serious. She maybe went out with them a few times, but there’s been nobody for a few years. Definitely not since I’ve been living here with her.”
“What about friends in general?”
Charlie frowned. “No one really close. There were a couple of women from work that she’d see for lunch now and then, but she trained mostly alone and was really involved in her research. She used to meet one of those women now and then to run or swim, but she preferred to do those things on her own. It used to worry me that someday she’d wind up all by herself, surrounded by nothing but awards for her work and a bunch of sports trophies.”
“Okay,” said Kali. “That’s all really useful.” She waited a moment. “If you could give me the name of her boss, those people that she dated, her lunch friends, the jealous colleague you mentioned, and anyone else you think might be able to tell us anything about her movements over the past few days, it would be a great help. Also, we’ll need her cell phone and computer. Do you happen to know where those things might be?”
Charlie thought for a moment. “She had two computers. One for work, and one for personal stuff—both of them were laptops. I guess her work computer might be at the lab, but I don’t know where the personal one is since it doesn’t seem to be in the house. The police who were here before you asked about that, too, but they couldn’t find it.”
“And her car?”
“Oh.” Charlie seemed genuinely surprised. “Her car. I never even thought about it.” He looked up at her, a bewildered expression on his face. “I guess I don’t have any idea where it is.”
CHAPTER 5
Kali got Maya’s phone number and car plate information from Charlie and called them in so that tracing could begin. She left him sitting on the sofa and stepped into Maya’s bedroom. It was tidy and well organized. Clothes hung on racks in the closet, the bed was made, and the curtains were drawn back from the windows, allowing sunlight to illuminate the small space.
Feeling like an intruder, Kali went through the closet, dresser, and desk, finding nothing that seemed out of place or in any way connected to an interest in Hawaiian ceremonies, or anything dark that might have suggested her involvement with people given to violence. There were no letters or cards, except for two birthday cards. One was from her parents, and one had been signed by Charlie. Both were sitting on top of the chest of drawers.
The SOC team had been thorough, and there was nothing obvious to be discerned beyond an apparent loyalty to certain clothing brands, and an interest in difficult jigsaw puzzles. Maya had amassed quite a collection, including several wooden puzzles that had been hand-cut and looked satisfyingly complicated. They were stacked on the floor next to the bookcase, the top box displaying the image of a jewel-handled sword. The bookshelves were filled with textbooks and thick tomes on ocean mining. Kali had a fleeting thought that she would have enjoyed the puzzles, but that the book choices looked intensely boring.
She stood in the middle of the room, feeling vaguely voyeuristic—the same feeling she had experienced in other rooms that had belonged to strangers who were destined never to return to the spaces they’d filled with meaningful belongings. She looked around again. Every choice—from the worn denim jacket with the embroidered flowers on the back, to the shade of yellow of the bedding, to the hairbrush resting on the top of the chest of drawers next to the birthday cards—had been made by a woman who no longer had any use for them.
Kali closed her eyes, trying to still her mind. She breathed deeply, controlling her exhalations, letting herself be open to any small stirring or nuance that might suggest that something was missing or out of place—a balance that had been disturbed.
There was nothing. Just silence, and the small noises made by the automatic fan system on the air-conditioning unit. Kali walked back into the living room where Charlie still sat on the edge of the sofa, exactly where she’d left him.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice gentle, “you could just have another look through your sister’s room for me after I’ve gone? Tell me if you think there’s anything missing, or anything new that you’ve never noticed before. I know that sounds strange, but even the smallest diversion from her normal life could be helpful.”
He nodded without looking up. She could see that he was rocking slightly, his upper body moving back and forth with tiny, controlled movements. He’s trying not to cry again, she thought, and was again swept with the sense that she was an intruder on an intensely private moment. She remembered how others had tried to comfort her when her fiancé and fellow police detective Mike Shirai had been gunned down during a drug raid, how nothing had eased the sense of loss and despair or her fierce, consuming anger. No one, she acknowledged, can truly understand another’s grief. Maybe the best thing I can do for Charlie, Kali told herself, is to leave him be.
Pulling a card from her wallet, she scribbled her private cell phone number beneath the number and e-mail for the police station, and left it on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“I left you both of my phone numbers, Charlie. Please feel free to call me anytime. Anytime at all.”
Charlie made no move, so she let herself out, walking slowly along the portico that connected Charlie’s condo to the others on the same row, leading to the parking area behind the building. She stepped around a series of puddles, then climbed into the driver’s seat of her aging Jeep. She sat there, lost in thought, only stirring when a car pulled into the spot beside her and the driver’s blaring music blasted through the car’s open windows to jolt her back into alertness. She pulled out slowly, leaving behind the music and the lone figure on the sofa, wrapped in sorrow.
* * *
Later, at home, Kali sat at the table and ate her evening meal, assembled from bowls of leftover rice, fish, and grilled papaya sitting in the refrigerator. As she stood at the sink and washed the dish and silverware she’d used, she listened to the sound of Hilo snoring from his cushion, where the massive dog—the result of a brief romantic encounter between a Weimaraner and a Great Dane—lay with his forelegs stretched over the cushion’s edge. She watched him for a moment, coming to the conclusion that the dog was on the right track when it came to prioritizing. Outside the window, the light was fading, and she felt drained from the long day. An early night seemed like an excellent idea.
