“Do
you want anything to drink? Coffee? Soda?” he said. We walked the full length
of the hall before he ushered me into the last room and flicked on the light
switch.
“No,
mahalo
.” If I was polite maybe he’d feel at least a little remorse over
what he was about to do.
“You
know why you’re here?” he said. He gestured for me to turn around so he could
take the cuffs off before I sat down.
“Obstruction
of justice, harboring a known fugitive, and probably a bunch of other stuff
you’re gonna make up.”
He
shook his head. “I’m not going to be taping this interview, Ms. Moon. In fact,
this interview never happened. I know you have a tough time with authority, and
you’re just bad-ass lousy at obeying orders, but I’m going to try again anyway.
It’s my job.”
It
pained me to hear him refer to his job as if he were Tom Selleck in
Blue
Bloods
. Wong was a crooked cop, a guy on the take. He and his kind were a
blight on the Maui Police Department and every other police department where
cops step over the line and decide the rules don’t apply to them. I wasn’t
going to give him any excuse to inflict physical pain, but I wasn’t going to
blithely go along with his self-serving BS, either.
“Yeah,
whatever, Wong.”
“The
reason this interview never happened is because you’re in a world of hurt. I’d
hoped to spare you the really nasty fallout, but you insisted on bulling ahead.
Now, I gotta figure out what to do with you. If I release you, you’re a dead
girl walking.”
I
didn’t follow what he was saying.
“Are
you threatening to
kill
me?”
He
shook his head. “We’re not the threat. You’re now well-known by a group of
thugs who have murdered at least five people—four of them women—here in the
islands. They’re associated with a drug cartel operating out of Southern
California and Northern Mexico. The couple you were doing the wedding for...,”
he looked at me as if he was waiting for me to fill in the names.
“You
mean Keith Lewis and Nicole Johnson?”
“Yeah,
well those were the aliases they were using here in Hawaii. Turns out they’re
major players in a money laundering scheme for the Gato Negro drug cartel in
Northern Mexico. Drugs are sold in the U.S. for American dollars. Then those
dollars are used by our buddy ‘Keith Lewis’ to buy expensive real estate in
Southern California. He turns around and resells the properties at a discount
to get a quick sale and then deposits the proceeds in a bank account held by
the cartel.” Wong stopped, giving me a few moments to put the puzzle pieces
together for myself.
“Anyway,”
he went on, “it’s a great way to move large amounts of cash without throwing up
red flags. Problem was, your guy got greedy. Wanted more than his fat real
estate commissions. Our inside guy learned ‘Lewis’ pocketed over a half-million
bucks that should have gone to his boss, one Juan Carlos Cardoza-Jimenez—head
of the cartel. The middleman who’d recommended ‘Lewis’ to Señor C-J couldn’t
‘fess up that the guy he’d stood up for had bilked the boss. So, he came up
with a way to force Lewis to give back the dough. He dreamed up a kidnapping,
setting the ransom at the same amount Lewis had stolen. That way, he’d tip off
‘Lewis’ that he was on to him, and he could replace the boss’ money and make
things square before heads rolled.”
“How
do you know all this?” I said.
“Like
I said, we got someone on the inside.” He scratched the side of his head in a
where
was I?
gesture. “But it didn’t exactly go as planned. Seems when Lewis got
wind of the ransom demand he thought it had come from the big guy
himself—Cardoza-Jimenez. Which meant his life expectancy was down to days,
maybe hours. So he throws the little bridesmaid under the bus and hightails it
outta here.”
“But
that doesn’t explain why you didn’t investigate Crystal Wilson’s disappearance.
Why’d you stonewall me? Maybe we could’ve found her before they killed her.”
“You
have no idea how hard we all worked on this. I spent a fortune the department
doesn’t have on snitches and surveillance. We came up short.”
“But
why not tell the public? Don’t you remember the Elizabeth Smart case in Utah?
She was spotted by an everyday citizen on a downtown street. Why didn’t you use
the media—get the word out?”
Wong
pinched his lips into a tight line. “I wish I could’ve. Unfortunately, I wasn’t
calling the shots here. It was the feds.”
“Okay,
now I’m even more confused.”
“That
bridesmaid—what was her name?”
“Crystal
Wilson.”
“Yeah,
well, that wasn’t her real name. She was an undercover agent for the Secret
Service, planted at your bride’s health club to befriend her. The feds had
figured out the money laundering scheme and were ready to pounce, but they
needed evidence. They sent your girl in to get something that would hold up in
a U.S. court. We weren’t getting much cooperation from the other side of the
border.”
“When
she was grabbed, do you think the kidnappers realized she was a federal agent?”
“We’re
not certain, but from what we hear, we think they didn’t know.”
“Well,
I know who pulled the trigger. He confessed to me. I can—”
“
Mahalo
,
but we’ll take it from here, Ms. Moon. This thing’s already gotten ugly
enough.”
“I’m
stunned. The U.S. government was willing to sacrifice a highly-trained Secret
Service agent just to get evidence on a money laundering scheme?”
“This
is big, Ms. Moon. It’s the war on drugs.”
“For
the Secret Service agent it wasn’t a war—it was an ambush.”
***
I
left the police station in a cop car. Wong told me I had two hours to ‘get my affairs
in order’ and then I’d be relocated to a safe place until I could be called to
testify before a federal grand jury. No telling how long that might take.
Two
hours wasn’t nearly long enough to say the good-byes I needed to say, or
explain why I wasn’t going to keep the commitments I’d made—like showing up at
Sifu Doug’s kung fu promotion ceremony later that day. But then, Crystal
Wilson—or whatever her name really was—didn’t even get two minutes.
We
pulled up in front of my house and I went inside to pack.
CHAPTER 33
I
pulled out a dresser drawer and dumped a tangle of underwear onto my bed. How
could I just up and leave? I had two weddings next month. I couldn’t just
disappear. My friends would alert the media, put up a reward and generally make
Wong’s life miserable if he stonewalled them.
I
called Wong’s cell. “This isn’t going to work,” I said.
“It
will. We already have a story for you. You’re going to the mainland to put on a
big wedding. Tell your roommate and it will be common knowledge before noon.”
At
five a.m. I knocked on Steve’s door.
“You
awake?” I said.
“I
am now. What’s going on? You’ve been crashing around for an hour.”
“I’ve
got to leave. I got a call from a guy in Las Vegas. Big-bucks, but totally
off-the-radar. He wants me to do a fantasy wedding for his latest showgirl
trophy wife but it’s gotta happen fast. I’m leaving this morning.”
Steve
bolted upright in bed. “What? That’s nuts. Don’t you have two weddings already
on the books? How’re you gonna do them all?”
“I’m
handing those over to Maui Dream Weddings. This one’s way bigger.”
“Pali,
something weird’s going on. Is it Beni?”
“It’s
not Beni, and nothing’s weird. I just got a late-night call. I’ve gotta go.” I
crossed the room and kissed his forehead. “Tell everyone I’ll be back as soon
as I can. Hopefully no more than a couple of weeks.”
“Aren’t
you going to call me when you get there?”
“I
might be too busy. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.” I
headed for the door.
“Pali
Moon, stop right there. You aren’t leaving this house without telling me what
the hell is going on.” By now he’d gotten out of bed and was following me.
“I
can’t. Look, you know I love you and I’d stop and chat if I could. But I
can’t.”
I
started downstairs and then turned and looked him full in the face. We stared
at each other for a few moments. Then a flicker of understanding flashed across
Steve’s face. “Got it. I’ll let everyone know you were suddenly called away.
But do me a favor, okay?”
“If
I can.”
“Stay
safe. Las Vegas has got some pretty rough characters.”
“Yeah,
well so does Maui.” I said.
He
nodded.
I
finished packing and then wrote a quick note to Farrah explaining that I was
leaving but I’d be back as soon as I could. I left the note on the kitchen table.
Steve would deliver it along with the news of my good fortune in being hired to
do a lavish wedding for a Las Vegas high-roller.
I
dragged my suitcase with the gimpy wheel over to the front door. There was an
unmarked cop car waiting for me two doors down. As I hefted my suitcase down
the porch stairs I looked back at my little house. I’d always considered buying
that house my greatest achievement. Better than making black belt or graduating
from college. The thought of never seeing it again made me falter on the
stairs.
I
looked up. A ghost of a moon clung to the edge of the sky. And in the east, the
sun was just starting to smudge the horizon with the promise of a new day.
EPILOGUE
On
a rainy November day, Agent Elizabeth Stanton Collins was quietly buried with
full honors at Arlington National Cemetery. Her name has been chiseled into the
marble wall of a federal law-enforcement building somewhere in downtown
Washington DC, but I’ll bet that’s cold comfort to her family and friends.
Beni
Kanekoa folded like a cheap card-table and confessed to killing Agent Collins.
He claimed he’d shot her but he’d done so under duress: if he had refused
to kill her, he would have been killed along with her by the drug dealers he’d
failed to pay in a timely manner. Not that the judge adjudicating his case gave
a damn about Beni’s claim of duress. In the end, Beni was sentenced to a life
sentence without possibility of parole for murder while in the commission of
another felony—kidnapping. Nothing was said in the State’s case about Agent
Collins being a federal law enforcement agent killed in the line of duty, since
the federal sting operation was still on-going. At trial, Beni did step up and
do the right thing by giving testimony to the victim’s bravery and poise, even
in the face of death. Again, cold comfort to her family and friends, but her
legacy became an unspoken inspiration to those fighting undercover in the
seemingly never-ending war on drugs. I figure they need all the inspiration
they can get. It must be tough to keep up morale when you’re battling a
sadistic opponent with unlimited resources.
And
me? Well, I learned that Hatch’s former fiancée was, in fact, murdered by the
same drug cartel that murdered Agent Collins. He’d been right in begging me to
back off. Not that I’ve had a chance to talk to him about it. Until the feds
are finished with their investigation and are ready to bring charges, I’m in
limbo. I’m living under an assumed name—which is kind of ironic since the name
I normally use is also assumed—in an undisclosed location known only to the
fine folks in the Federal Witness Protection Program.
I’d
like to give you a hint of what’s going on, but I’ve been told if I plan to
stay alive until the grand jury convenes, the less said the better.
Look
for all the titles in “The Islands of Aloha Mystery” Series:
Maui Widow Waltz
(Maui)
Livin’ Lahaina Loca
(Maui)
Lana’i of the Tiger
(Lana’i)
And
coming in 2013—
Kaua’i Me a River
(Kaua’i)
O’ahu Lonesome Tonight?
(O’ahu)
Aloha!
JoAnn
Bassett
http://www.joannbassett.com
Facebook:
JoAnn Bassett’s Author Page
Twitter:
@JoAnnBassett