Page 38 of Shark Cove

A short man with a shiny bald head wearing baggy gray sweatpants and a threadbare flannel shirt stood facing them. He peered at them through thick glasses, a pair of soundproof headphones around his neck. “Who the hell are you?”

Lei fished the badge hanging around her neck on a beaded chain out of the vest and held it up. “Sergeant Lei Texeira, Maui Police Department.” She dug out the folded warrant as well and handed it to the man. “We’re here to search these premises.”

“Are you Keith Evenson?” Stevens stepped up to crowd the little man with his tall form.

“Yes, I am, and I demand to know what this is about!” Evenson blustered, hands on his hips.

Lei tipped her head for Torufu and Bunuelos to begin searching.

“I’m calling my attorney!” Evenson yelled. “I run a legitimate import/export business; you’re not going to find any drugs here!”

Lei bared her teeth in a smile. “We’d have dogs if we were looking for drugs.”

Stevens leaned against the doorframe, his elbow above the short man’s head. “What relation are you to the Chang family?”

“Cousin by marriage,” the man said automatically, then slapped his forehead as if realizing his mistake. “I’m calling my attorney.”

“You already said that. Meanwhile, I’ll search your office once I make sure you’re clean.” Lei said. “Turn to face the wall and put your hands on it. Spread your legs.” Lei frisked Evenson briskly, then brushed past him to enter the office.

Evenson fumbled his phone out of his pocket as Stevens moved from the doorway to join the other two men in their search of the larger area.

Lei kept a wary eye on Evenson but headed straight to his desk, removing her helmet and setting it down. She pulled open the drawers, rifling through, looking for . . . she didn’t know what at this point, but anything that might tie the victims to this location given by Keo Avila.

Nothing in the desk except the usual office crap, including pens, pencils, stapler, tape, and paper clips along with stacks of Post-its decorated with Hawaiian T-shirts and rubber slippers.

The lower right-hand drawer was locked. “Open this,” she told Evenson tersely.

The man scowled; he was still talking on the phone as he fumbled a bunch of keys out of his pocket, bent over and unlocked the drawer.

Lei leaned down to look inside. The drawer was empty except for a small bottle of Jim Beam and an old cigar box behind it. Lei took the box out, flipped it open, and stifled a gasp at the sight of a collection of girls’ rubber hairbands, each neatly wrapped around a cut piece of hair. There were nine swatches in the box, in an array of colors from blonde to black.

Lei’s stomach clenched with an unpleasant memory from a case early in her career—a serial killer who’d taken hair cuttings as trophies.

She breathed through nausea—could they have been wrong about these disappearances? Was someone killing these girls? Did kidnappers keep trophies, too?

Lei pointed to the cigar box’s contents. “Get off that phone and tell me about these.”

Brought up short by Lei’s tone, Evenson ended his call. He leaned over to look, and backed up, sputtering. “I don’t know anything about that. Never seen that box before. I just locked the drawer because I keep a bottle in there—in case I need a nip now and again.”

“We’ll be talking further about this downtown,” Lei said. “It’s probably a good thing for you that you called your lawyer.”

Evenson continued to protest, becoming agitated, so Lei cuffed him and sat him on one of the chairs. “Stevens! Come see this!”

“On my way.” Her husband’s voice echoed through the warehouse.

Lei turned to look at the computer—an ancient, bulky Apple that hadn’t been upgraded since the 1990s. She unplugged it. “We need to check your records.”

“Go ahead. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but you won’t find anything,” the older man said defiantly.

Wouldn’t surprise her if this dude were old-school and hardly used a computer, anyway. Lei turned to face a bookcase, spotting several ledgers. She reached for them.

“You can’t take those! Those are mine, and I need them to run my business!” Evenson sputtered.

Lei found an empty cardboard box in one corner, dropping the ledgers into it. “You’ll get them back when we’re done.”

Stevens poked his head in. “Find something?”

“Sure did.” She pointed to the open drawer. Stevens walked over and glanced inside. “Whoa.”

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