Puna was a rough town thirty minutes outside Hilo, near where the flows from Kilauea met the ocean. The town’s economy had been depressed ever since the lava had taken out entire subdivisions in the area in the 1990s. Built like a western town, false-fronted old wooden buildings faced a single main street.
At 9 p.m., when most of the rest of the island was shut up tight for the evening, Puna was just warming up. The doors of the bars and restaurants were open to the streets, light and music spilling out, knots of people clustered smoking outside.
Stevens pulled the SUV into one of the side streets and parked on the shoulder. Lei got out and slammed the door, straightening her jean jacket and unobtrusively checking the Glock in its holster. Stevens waited at the bumper as she bent to touch up her wide mouth with sparkly gloss in the side mirror of the Bronco, running the wand over her lips. She pretended not to notice him watching, feeling his eyes on her like a touch. She straightened abruptly, snapped the wand into the tube and slid it into the pocket of her jacket.
“Puna Music Club was Mary’s sort of home away from home,” she said. “She liked to eat there between her shift and class. I hope they’ll know something.” They strode down the street, through the groups of people. Electric guitars wailed from inside the bar.
Stevens pushed one of the old-fashioned swinging half doors open and held it as Lei followed him in. The smell of sweat and beer hit her along with a wall of sound as a mediocre rock band banged out tunes from the battered stage. The postage stamp dance floor was crowded with people. Lei elbowed her way next to Stevens at the bar, hopped up on a stool. Stevens got the bartender’s attention, ordered two beers, yelled above the din of the band.
“Have you seen Mary? Mary Gomes?”
The bartender flipped the tops off, pushed two green bottles of Heineken toward them.
“Yeah. Who wants to know?”
“We’re friends of hers from the police department.” Stevens showed his badge.
“She came in yesterday afternoon, ordered her usual. She must’ve got a call from someone and been picked up. She left her car in the alley.” The bartender wiped the counter as he talked.
“Has that happened before?” Stevens asked.
“Sure. Not a lot but at least a couple other times I know of,” the bartender said, polishing a glass. He moved off to wait on another customer. Stevens turned to Lei.
“Let’s go check it out.” She nodded, scooping up her beer. They went back out the front of the bar and around the corner of the building.
The Mustang gleamed in the dim light of the alley. They walked around the car, tried the handles. Locked. Guitar music leaked out of a door in the wall next to it.
“Mary would never just leave the Mustang here if she could help it.” Lei pointed to the alley door. “Wonder where this goes?” She gave the handle a turn-it was unlocked.
They went into a run-down hallway. Clearly this was the back way into the Puna Music Club. Loud voices identified the kitchen on the left, and they could see the women’s and men’s bathrooms on the right. Lei stuck her head into the restrooms but there was nothing to see but the well-used facilities.
“So what do you think?” Stevens leaned against the wall, took a sip of his beer.
“Don’t know. We should call her station, see if there were any emergency calls she might have had, though Roland said he checked on that. I think it’s really weird she left the Mustang here. That car was her pride and joy.”
“Yeah. But she could be meeting someone, someone she didn’t want Roland to know about.”
“That’s what Pono thought too. But I know she would be careful to be back before Roland noticed. Now he’s worried and upset. That’s only going to draw attention, embarrass her. No, something must have happened. She might have been nabbed in the alley.”
“Not too likely.” Stevens said. “But if she doesn’t turn up to claim the car, it looks like she’s missing for sure.”
“Do you think the hair the stalker sent me could be hers?” Lei put her fear into words. “I don’t know how long she’s been missing, I mean for sure yesterday, but I got the note the night before.”
Stevens shrugged. She could tell he was trying to be casual but his mouth had drawn into a hard line and black brows lowered so she could hardly see his eyes in the dim light of the tired bulb.
“Let’s find out,” he said. They pushed off from the wall and went back outside. It wasn’t long before they were on the road again.
“I’m starting to wonder if this is all connected somehow. The girls, the investigation, my stalker, Mary’s disappearance…” Lei leaned her forehead on the cool glass of the window.
“How? What’s the connection?” Stevens sounded serious.
“I don’t know. I think Mary would have told me if someone was stalking her, and she never said anything. I don’t know, I just feel it.”
“At this point we have to follow the evidence, track down every lead we can. Every hour that goes by the trail gets colder. I’m open to anything right now if you can find a link. In the meantime I’m calling this in.” Stevens picked up the handset radio and reported the abandoned car and their conversation with the bartender to the detective on duty at Puna PD. Stevens asked if there had been any emergency calls yesterday afternoon that Mary might have gone on. The dispatcher checked and said no, replied that a case was already open for Mary in Missing Persons.
“Looks like they’re moving on it,” he said, hanging up the handset and glancing at Lei. “I’m sorry.”
She rolled down the window and stared out, lifting her face to the arc of night sky. A million stars circled far above, visible without the light pollution of Hilo. The cool evening air blew across her face, anchoring her in her body. She didn’t let herself think about the Mohuli`i girls’ drowned faces but they hovered at the edge of her mind, unforgettable.
He watched her wake up with the dawn, the drugs he’d given her slowly wearing off. They were in the special place he’d prepared, so remote she could scream all she wanted and no one would hear. A trackless jungle of tall ohia trees and gigantic ferns surrounded them. Her hands were cuffed behind her, and a heavy cable attached to the handcuffs fastened her to a nearby tree.
Terror and rage came into her eyes as Mary realized where she was, and she thrashed against her bonds. He sat on the plastic cooler and watched as she struggled, finally subsiding, sucking air through her nostrils above the gag.
“I don’t have time for you now,” he said. “I have to go to work.” His voice was muffled by the ski mask he wore, his alter ego. He hadn’t decided if he was going to kill her yet, and it kept his options open.
She glared at him and he could see her calculating whether or not she could take him.
Oh, this was good. He wanted it to last.
The first fingers of light pinkened the sky above the hidden grove where he had set up the shelter. He stood, looking down at her.
“You’re going to enjoy what I have planned for you. Water’s in the cooler.” He leaned over, pinched her nipple. She writhed and heaved, trying to kick him, and he chuckled as he walked away, crunching through the dried ferns.
He smiled to himself, pulling the hot ski mask off his head with a pleasurable sense of anticipation. She was secure, but she would figure out how to get her hands in front because he’d left her cuffs loose enough. Eventually she’d get thirsty enough to drink the water. He was counting on it.