Hilo, Goodbye (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series Book 8) by JoAnn Bassett

Author:JoAnn Bassett [Bassett, JoAnn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lokelani Publishing
Published: 2015-12-25T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Becca’s room looked like a herd of wild boars had been locked in there with no food or water. Sheets, blankets, and pillows were strewn throughout the suite. The sofa cushions in the living room had been upended, and the pictures on the walls were crooked. The mini-bar fridge gaped open and tiny liquor bottles and candy wrappers littered the floor. Clothes and make-up had been heaped on every possible horizontal surface.

“Whew. The police really did a number on this room,” I said.

“No, this is the way we found it,” said Martinez. “That girl was no Martha Stewart.”

Wong snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves. He quietly admonished me not to touch anything and then he got to work taking photos with his cell phone.

“The Hilo Police have already photographed everything,” said Martinez. “You’re probably just wasting your time.”

Wong ignored him and moved on to the bedroom and bath.

From what I could see, this was a crime scene only if trashing a room could be considered a crime. There was no blood and no apparent signs of struggle other than the mess. Once I’d gotten over the initial shock of the chaos, it seemed to me Becca’s room reflected her demanding, self-indulgent nature more than a possible murder scene.

In the bedroom, there was a large open suitcase on the bed. It was empty. The sheets on the bed were a tangled mess and Wong used a pen to lift the top sheet to peer under it. He scribbled something in his pocket notebook and then nodded toward the door in a signal for us to leave.

“Mahalo for letting us in, Mr. Martinez,” he said.

Once we were out in the hall, I said, “That’s it?”

Wong nodded. “For now.”

Al Martinez made an excuse about checking the ice machine on that floor so Wong and I traveled alone back down to the lobby.

“What do you think?” I said.

“I think Martinez is right. Our victim was no domestic goddess.”

“Do you think he may really have some significant information?”

“Hard to know. By now, every bruddah in the islands is figuring out how to spend that reward money.”

We drove to Richardson Park where Becca’s body had been found. Just outside the crime scene tape was a little make-shift memorial with flowers, stuffed animals, candles and signs. Everything had been pummeled by the wind and rain, so the stuff looked like it’d been there for weeks rather than just a few days. There were no fans around that I could see, just police personnel.

Wong badged his way past the uniformed cop guarding the scene. I followed in his wake like a well-trained dog.

We walked across a field of large lava stones to an area thick with vegetation. About twenty feet in, we came to the base of a palm tree where her body had been found. They’d chalked an outline but it was now nearly faded from view. As we stood there, the rain started again. I flipped up the hood on my wind breaker as the cloud layer thickened and the ambient light dimmed.

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