Page 17 of Hidden Falls

Marcella suppressed a squirm of internal discomfort at witnessing the woman’s palpable pain and anger.Please, God, don’t let Harry dig an even deeper hole for herself by mouthing off or refusing to comply.

Harry drew herself up tall. Her full lips were tight and bloodless as she removed her weapon and unclipped her badge. She set the two items on the table, each connecting with the Formica surface with an audible click. She pushed them with a deliberate scrape against the table’s surface in the direction of her superior officer. “I’ll be waiting to hear progress updates. Thank you for your consideration of our family during this stressful time.” Her shoulders were thrown back and her back was stiff as she exited, closing the conference room door with exaggerated care, as if resisting the urge to slam it.

Marcella sagged a little with the release of tension as she departed. Harry was a loose cannon. Having her off the case without her gun and badge was a relief.

Lei shot Marcella a look; she’d picked up on Marcella’s ambivalence about Harry.

“Special Agent Scott.”

Marcella jumped, refocusing on her boss Waxman’s serious face in the video feed. “Yes, sir.”

“Since time is of the essence in a case like this, we’re going to be reassigning the two of you in different directions to follow up with the possibilities you have. We’re going to hit this case hard for seventy-two hours—the initial window for finding a missing person. After that, we’ll evaluate whether or not the FBI’s involvement is appropriate.”

Marcella’s gaze shifted to Captain Omura.

The MPD chief disclosed no change of expression but glanced down at her keyboard before addressing Lei. “Sergeant Texeira, you’re assigned to following up on all local leads. Since we have the FBI’s help for the time being, I want you to do all you can with the drug connection angle. Perhaps one of the suppliers to kids in schools was ticked off enough at Malia’s meddling to have grabbed her.”

Lei’s lips tightened but she inclined her head. “Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed, Sergeant Texeira. We will meet later to discuss your lack of communication with chain of command.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll keep you posted on progress.” Lei got up and exited.

Marcella tried to stay relaxed under the laser-like gazes of Waxman and Omura. “What else can I do to assist?”

“Work with Lei on local leads for the time being,” Waxman said. “Use our tech department to keep things moving as fast as possible.”

Omura nodded agreement. “The FBI’s resources in running down anything generated by Malia’s blog will definitely facilitate that.”

“I’m not sure how far we’ll get with anything if Malia’s been taken to Mexico on that charter flight,” Marcella said. “Is there anything we can do to narrow things down in that direction? Just in case it’s a legitimate angle?”

“I’m reaching out to our sister agency in Mexico. We have a contact there for you to liaise with; he’s a CIA agent with a lot of background in kidnapping and murder for hire. I’ll forward you his info.” Waxman did so; Marcella’s phone buzzed, receiving the incoming text. “This CIA contact is expecting your call. If it turns out that Malia’s been kidnapped by her biological parents, we’re going to have to inform Detective Clark that she has no case.”

“I understand, sir.” Harry was not going to take that well, needless to say. “Shall I stay here on Maui for the moment? Or come back to the Bureau offices on Oahu?”

“Stay there for now. Captain Omura has graciously assigned you your own cubicle on the main floor and you can work with Lei for the seventy-two hours at least.”

Marcella had been on the main floor many times; the “bull pen” was a large open room broken into a maze of cluttered cubicles. Privacy was an illusion, but right now she craved even a tiny space to call her own with a door to close behind her after a scattered and stressful time on the case so far. “Thanks, Captain, SAC Waxman. I’ll do my best.”

Marcella waited for a signal that she should leave or end the meeting; none came.

Omura broke the silence. “What is your take on Lei and Harry’s friendship?”

The use of the women’s first names threw Marcella off, as did the question.

She stalled, fiddling with her phone and the notepad and pen she liked to doodle with during meetings. Whatever she said could have serious career and even criminal repercussions for both women. Knowing more about the deeper layers of the situation than Waxman and Omura did was a moral dilemma.

But Marcella had experienced firsthand what happened when commanding officers were kept in the dark on a case—it never ended well. “Lei and Harry bonded early and young through a shared traumatic experience in Mexico, where they met.” She sketched the circumstances of Malia’s adoption in as few unadorned words as possible.

Both Waxman and Omura took notes as she talked; the knot in Marcella’s stomach tightened. What had she unleashed against Lei’s and Harry’s careers?

“And what do you think of their friendship now? Will it impair Texeira’s handling of the case?” Omura asked.

Marcella shook her head. “No. Lei is affected by Harry’s emotional distress as a friend. But she is keeping a lid on that and, so far, has been very professional in her demeanor and action steps. She’s taken the lead effectively in all the situations we’ve faced today.”

“And Detective Clark?” Omura’s eyes drilled into Marcella.

“She’s a mother on the edge. You were right to pull her off the case. Not that I blame Harry; she’s terrified for her child. Guilt and fear from the past are driving her.”

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