Razor Rocks

  Razor Rocks

  Paradise Crime Mysteries Book 13

  Toby Neal

  Copyright Notice

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  © Toby Neal 2019

  http://tobyneal.net

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

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  Book Cover Design by ebooklaunch.com.

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  Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-7339290-9-7

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  Free Books

  Toby’s Bookshelf

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Detective Sergeant Leilani Texeira clutched the dashboard of her partner Pono’s jacked up purple truck, affectionately nicknamed Stanley. “Can you slow down?”

  “No.” Pono changed gears. The cop light on the dash strobing, Stanley roared forward even faster as they zoomed down Highway 30 toward Ma`alaea Harbor, whipping around a line of rental cars.

  Lei shut her eyes. “Bruddah. Getting killed on the way to the harbor won’t find your cousin any faster, and besides, if we get in a wreck, Tiare will kill us both.”

  Pono’s formidably competent wife, Tiare, was not to be messed with. Her partner’s big brown hand tightened on the chrome skull that marked Stanley’s shifter, but he eased up on the gas pedal.

  Lei sat back in her seat. “I know this is hard—but whatever’s happened has already happened. You gotta stay objective about the case, or Captain Omura will pull you off of it.”

  Pono scowled, his pidgin thickening. “It’s my cuz. Not jus’ any kine cuz—dis my uncle’s oldest boy Chaz Kaihale. We been close since small kid time.”

  “I know. Chaz is good people.” Lei touched Pono’s tense bicep, her fingers lightly brushing the slash of a scar where a tribal tattoo of interlocking triangles had been torn by a meth dealer’s bullet. She’d been so terrified when the man who was her brother in everything but name had been shot . . . “Tell me again what you know. Let’s get a plan before we meet with the Coast Guard.”

  Pono blew out a breath and put both hands back on the wheel. The truck slowed to a reasonable rate at last. “Chaz called me from sea. Remember, he’s a captain and goes out with a couple of guys to crew luxury boats for Dream Vacations Luxury Yachts. Anyway, I wen get one call from him yesterday; he stay yelling. ‘Pono! You gotta help us! Get pirates coming!’ and then damn if the phone didn’t cut off.” Pono flexed his fingers. “Ho, I was laughing. I thought Chaz was pranking me cuz it was April first! But when I tried to call back, the call nevah go through. So I’m thinking, eh, he pranked me, but even with the satellite phone, half the time his calls get cut off.” Pono glanced over at Lei. Even with his favorite Oakleys hiding his eyes, she felt his pain. “Turns out, the call was legit.”

  “You couldn’t have known! I mean, it was April Fools’ Day!” Drifts of wayward curls, whipping in the breeze from the partly open window, lashed Lei’s face. She bundled her hair back with a rubber band she spotted encircling the gearshift.

  “I should have tried harder to find out what was going on. Chaz, he one prankster, but I should have called the ship-to-shore radio at least . . . anyway, I did nothing. Then, just now, I get a call from that Coast Guard guy we worked that Molokini case with—Aina Thomas. Remember him? He called my cell, telling me they found the yacht my cuz was captaining washed up on the reef off Lana`i. No one on board, but get bloodstains.” Pono speeded up again.

  “No, Pono, no . . .” Lei’s stomach lurched under the sensible black polo shirt she wore with jeans and athletic shoes. “You didn’t tell me anything but ‘go get in the car, we got a case involving my cuz.’ This is big, if it’s pirates. If it’s murder.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you sure Thomas was calling you as an investigator? Maybe he was calling you as a witness, because you and Chaz are close. He found your name listed somewhere in Chaz’s phone or something.”

  Pono’s mouth just tightened, and Lei had her answer—Pono wasn’t thinking right now.

  Lei needed to take charge. She dug a Maui Police Department ball cap out of the backpack, loaded with investigation paraphernalia, resting at her feet. She tugged the cap down low and tight on her head, and took out her phone. “I’ll call Captain Omura and brief her with what we know. And let me take the lead when we talk to Thomas. We got dis, partner.”

  Lei hadn’t seen Petty Officer Aina Thomas in several years, not since they’d shared a gut-wrenching case involving the murder of a beautiful young marine biologist in the waters off of Molokini atoll. A lot had happened since she’d been briefly attracted to the handsome Coast Guardsman, including the rescue of her husband, Michael Stevens, from foreign kidnappers, and the birth of a daughter.

  Wind, characteristic of the area, whipped the palm trees as they pulled into the marina parking lot of Ma`alaea Harbor. Lei hopped down off the chrome step of the lifted truck, patting her weapon in its shoulder holster and straightening her jacket over it, checking that her badge was clipped onto her belt.

  “We go!” Pono boomed, his usual mellow attitude gone as he slammed his door. Lei jogged to keep up as they moved along the waterfront, the ocean glimmering in the distance. The clang of wind-whipped rigging and the squeak of boats at their moorings made a strange kind of music.

  Lei spotted the Coast Guard craft at the end of the pier, and hurried to get in front of her partner.

  A quiver of purely personal nervous tension sharpened Lei’s voice as she hurried toward the nattily uniformed young man standing on the dock in front of the powerful rigid-hulled Coast Guard Defender Zodiac. “Petty Officer Thomas. What have we got?”

  “Sergeant Lei Texeira and Detective Pono Kaihale.” Thomas’s voice was brusque. His crisp navy uniform still looked really good on his trim, athletic frame. “Long time. I see you came wi
th your partner, but I only called Pono. As a witness, to be interviewed.”

  “That may be what got this going, but Captain Omura has authorized us to investigate the missing persons and signs of foul play you’ve discovered on behalf of the Maui Police Department. So, going forward, this will be a joint investigation.” Pono’s body heat simmered just behind her; her partner was barely containing his anxiety, and it felt like a thundercloud at her back. Even without seeing Pono’s expression, Lei knew he’d be as intimidating as hell with his arms crossed over his bulky chest and those inscrutable Oakleys hiding his worried eyes. “Why don’t we go to your conference room in the Coast Guard building, where we can speak privately?”

  Aina Thomas had a face much like her own: tawny brown skin, a few freckles across the nose, the tilted brown eyes of mixed Japanese-Hawaiian and Portuguese, curling dark hair buzzed military-short. Other than his hair, seeing him was like looking at a twin brother.

  Thomas shook his head in negation. “We need to get back to the wreck. We can brief you on the way. Follow me.” He spun with precision, and headed for the ladder leading up onto the deck of the Coast Guard Defender.

  Lei glanced around as she ascended the ladder onto the rigid-hulled inflatable twenty-five-foot craft. Two giant Honda outboards idled harshly; as soon as she and Pono were on board, a crewman handed them life vests, and Thomas ushered them into the cramped quarters of the small forward cabin. “We can talk in here. It’s about thirty minutes to the wreck.”

  “Wow, this thing really rips,” Lei said. “It’s usually an hour from Ma`alaea to Lana`i on the ferry.”

  Thomas’s quick, triangular grin reminded her of why she’d found him so attractive. “You have no idea. Grab onto something.”

  Lei caught hold of a support stanchion on an inside wall just as the boat surged forward, spinning away from the dock and violating the usual inside-harbor speed limits. Pono jostled against her until they both found seats on a padded storage bench against one wall.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you wanted to talk to Pono about?” Lei shouted over the noise of the engines. “It must be pretty urgent if we didn’t have time to talk about it somewhere quieter—and more private.” She indicated the Guardsman driving the boat with her head.

  In answer, Thomas handed the man a set of earmuffs. “It’s ear protection and a comm unit,” Thomas told them. The Guardsman put them on, his eyes front and full attention on driving the speedy craft.

  Thomas removed a touchscreen tablet from a drawer and sat in one of the two bolted-down captain’s chairs, swiveling to face them. “I called you because we suspect foul play. I called Pono because of his relationship with Chaz Kaihale, the captain. We think Kaihale may be involved with whatever went on.”

  “Why you say that about my cousin?” Pono rumbled, fierce with defensiveness for his family member. “He’s a good man. Never been in any trouble.”

  “Because Kaihale’s nowhere to be found, nor are the passengers . . . and the boat was robbed. Stripped of the passengers’ valuables, parts, anything that could be sold. Usually these kinds of hits are an inside job,” Thomas said. “Otherwise, we’re talking pirates, and that seldom happens in Hawaii for a number of reasons I won’t get into right now. It’s a good thing the ship hung up on the rocks, or we’d have nothing to investigate at all; I saw a hole in the hull other than what the rocks made, and I think the perps tried to sink it.”

  Pono folded his thick arms and opened his mouth to defend his cousin some more, but Lei held up a hand. “Guys. Let’s agree at this point that this shipwreck seems like a crime scene and move forward without assumptions for the moment. So, Aina, did you notify the police on Lana`i yet?”

  “I did. Sergeant Gary Miller was on duty and said he’d be going down to the beach to meet us.”

  “I’ll get ahold of him.” Lei took out her phone and routed her call to the on-island officer through Captain Omura. Maui County consisted of five islands of varying sizes: Maui, the main island, Kaho`olawe and Molokini atolls, Moloka`i, and Lana`i. The two atolls were uninhabited, and officers rotated out to Lana`i for shifts, while larger Moloka`i had its own police force.

  Lei knew Miller from other cases. It would be good to have backup on-island from the energetic young black man, though the Lana`i police station was tiny with little investigation resource equipment. They’d have to process all evidence on the main island of Maui.

  Once Lei had established contact with Miller, she put away her phone.

  The Guardsman driving the Defender turned his head. “Ship ahoy. We’re here.” Lei’s pulse picked up with the familiar hit of adrenaline that made being a cop so addictive.

  Chapter Two

  The yacht was beautiful—or it had been, before it drifted into the jagged formation known as Razor Rocks. Pure white from stem to stern but for a delicate scrolling design along its hull in pale blue, the Sea Cloud was a sleek, graceful shape heeled over to one side, caught on the rough black lava protruding from the churning surf like the teeth of a monster. A gaping hole near the bow allowed surf to surge in and out belowdecks.

  Lei surveyed the craft, Pono a warm bulk beside her. A stiff breeze hit, and she tugged her ball cap lower as she leaned over the metal rail, peering at the remains of the yacht.

  Thomas appeared at her elbow. “Lana`i folks nicknamed this spot Razor Rocks, because so many boats have died out here. Like I said, if this one hadn’t run aground, it would have sunk from the hole they put in the hull and we wouldn’t have this crime scene for you to investigate, at all.”

  “Good thing I grabbed my kit,” Lei patted her backpack. “How can Miller get out here to join us from the shore?” Lana`i rose in a golden hump directly ahead, fringed by its skirt of barrier reef, the edge of which was marked by Razor Rocks.

  “We have a tender boat.” Thomas gestured to a small mini-inflatable lashed to the stern of the larger craft. “We have to use that to get close enough to the wreck to board it, anyway. Petty Officer Sanchez will go get Miller while we get started and we can all regroup here when you’re done collecting evidence. We need to get moving. The tide’s coming in, and there’s a danger the craft will come off the rocks.” As they spoke, two Guardsmen unfastened the tender and launched it.

  Lei was glad she’d worn her thin windbreaker parka over her regular clothing as she climbed down the short ladder onto the tender, taking a seat in the bow. Pono looked a little green around his brown complexion as they motored through the chop, the inflatable loaded heavily with Lei, Pono, Thomas, and Sanchez at the tiller.

  They reached the Sea Cloud. The yacht’s deck was slanted at an angle by how steeply it had heeled over, and there was no visible way to climb onto the slick side. “How are we supposed to go on board?” Lei asked.

  Thomas held up a grappling hook. “We’ll use this to pull ourselves up to the main entrance hatch. Then we should be able to get inside just fine—I did it before.”

  Lei bit her lip, exchanging a glance with Pono, as the Guardsman tossed the grappling hook up. He had to make several casts to catch it on the metal railing surrounding the main hatch leading into the interior of the yacht.

  He tugged the hook, checking how secure it was. “I’ll go up first, then give you two support getting on board. Sanchez can help from below.”

  Sanchez’s help seemed unlikely given the movement of the tipsy inflatable as it bobbed against the side of the grounded yacht, as surf surge banged it to and fro.

  Getting up to the hatch proved to be every bit as nerve-wracking and physically taxing as Lei had been concerned it would be, but finally the three of them stood in an open bay, canted at a tilt, facing a door with shiny brass fittings that led into the interior. They gloved up and Thomas opened the door, hooking it back to stay ajar. “I’ll take you to the navigation room first. That’s all I needed to see before calling for an investigation.”

  They made their way to what had been the highest point of the yacht, an upper level cockpit wi
th room for two crew members and a large instrument panel. Lei, Pono and Thomas flicked on flashlights to shine around an interior rendered dim without power.

  Thomas shone his beam over a blood smear on the instrument panel. “After we ascertained the craft was abandoned and I saw this, I searched for the crew and passenger manifest. Every boat over a certain size needs to keep a log of who’s on board and contact numbers, in case of emergency.”

  He reached under the instrument panel and pulled out the manifest. The black laminated book was stored in a heavy Ziploc bag. He slid a thumb along the edge to open it, and removed the book.

  “Who else was on board?” Pono asked.

  “Your cousin was captain, and he had two crew members aboard, plus the family of five who chartered the yacht.” Thomas tapped the front page of the manifest. “Faifale Honopua was crewing, and Priscilla Gutierrez, cook and maid. The guests on this cruise were the Peterson family. Patrick Peterson of Enviro Enterprises dot-com, his wife, Emma, and their three daughters, Joanie, Adelia and Sarah.”