Stolen in Paradise (A Lei Crime Companion Novel) Read Free Page B

thanks.”
    “So much for interagency cooperation.” The chocolate had some bite to it.
    “This is us cooperating. Trust me. You want our people working the lab stuff. We’re much less backed up.”
    “So why do you want to do the death notification?” He still sounded pissy.
    “Next of kin is always an important interview. We need to get eyes on this girl.” Marcella was already pulling Natalie Pettigrew up on her phone’s connection to the local law enforcement database. “Looks like Miss Pettigrew has some priors—marijuana possession and two assaults that look like bar fights.”
    “Yeah. Girl’s got some psychiatric history, too,” Kamuela said. “Rumor has it she’s bipolar, no meds.”
    “Who’s your source on that?”
    “I’ve got a confidential informant—no need for more detail at this time.”
    Marcella winced. He was paying her back for taking over so much of the investigation. Well, screw him and his tender male ego, she thought irritably. “We’re sealing the place and doing initial statements with the microscope jockeys in here. We’ll do follow-up interviews with them back at HQ. You can be present for those.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    “We need your assistance. I didn’t mean to sound…” She tapped her toe against the metal rung of the stool, annoyed with the standoff. “Dammit. Don’t be like that. We need to work together.”
    A long pause. He seemed to relent, because he said, “Well, we didn’t turn anything up in the canvassing of the beach.”
    “Not surprised. I’m guessing she went into the Ala Wai Canal and washed up on Waikiki later. I’ll check in with you guys after the death notification. Thanks for calling.” Marcella punched off, hoping her next contact would go better. Keeping things moving with local PD always had its challenges.
    Truman had closed the door behind him, and Cindy Moku looked through the little glass pane in the door. Marcella got up to let her in, gesturing to the steel stool.
    She activated the phone’s record feature. “Please state your name, address, and where you were last night.”
    Moku’s shiny brown complexion had gone gray around the lips and nostrils. Her eyes were puffy from crying.
    “Dr. Cindy Moku. Or almost. I’m finishing my doctorate on this project. I live in Honolulu.” She gave an address. “I was home. Studying.”
    “Anyone able to verify your whereabouts?”
    “You don’t think one of us did it? We all loved Dr. Pettigrew. Or at least, we respected her. We needed her. She was our PI.”
    This was the first glimmer of a side to Pettigrew that was less than ideal. “You didn’t love her? And what’s a PI?”
    “I…I respected her. She wasn’t the warm, fuzzy type. And she was our PI, which is a primary investigator, the head of a project. Without her and the research…I don’t know. The last two years of our work could be gone. The last two years of our lives. My doctorate.” Moku’s voice wobbled.
    Marcella pushed a roll of paper towels over, and Moku blew her nose with a honk that vibrated the camera phone.
    “Anyway, there’s no one. Oh wait. I had an online chat window open. I was talking online to Abed and Fernandez.” A rosy blush marbled up Moku’s neck.
    “Good. We’ll check that. Something going on between you?” Marcella kept her voice neutral, her eyes on the young scientist’s betraying skin.
    “No, it’s nothing. We’re all friends. We were comparing notes, that’s all.” The blush darkened to mulberry.
    She was lying.
    Rogers stuck his head in. “Almost done? I got the rest.”
    “Yes. Thanks, Cindy. We’ll talk more.” She punched off the phone and collected a swab and Moku’s prints. The young woman left, wiping the ink off her fingers with a bunched-up wad of paper towel.
    “It’s late, but let’s go to lunch. I’m hungry for some of your mama’s cooking.” Rogers sealed the door with crime tape and contacted the university to change the touch pad at the door to