Page 33 of Hidden Falls

As soon as Marcella and Jenkins came around another decorative, landscaped berm, the house came into sight.

“Wow!” Jenkins said. “This guy is doing pretty well for himself. The pill business must pay good.”

“No kidding.”

The mansion was a sprawl of fancy contrasting hardwoods with Bali-esque cupolas and stylized curlicues at every corner. Rough cut slabs of green malachite created steps that led to a massive double front door. They took up stances on either side of the door whose security egress was hidden behind decorative carvings and flourishes.

Marcella made a quick hand gesture that she would go around the back to cover any further exits, and Jenkins nodded.

Jenkins pounded on the portal and yelled in his loud cop voice, “Open up! Maui Police Department!”

Again, no answer.

Marcella didn’t expect that Paulson was in residence as she ran around the side of the house, dodging plantings that had grown up to cover the windows with sprays of ferns and vines. One of the kids had probably tipped him off. Either the doctor was sound asleep and going to be caught with his pants down, or he was long gone.

The back of the manse was given over to a huge, poured concrete patio with a pool, currently masked by a plastic solar heating cover. Teak chaise lounge chairs, piled with used towels, and side tables littered with drink glasses, testified to a party recently. Cabanas and umbrellas flapped in the breeze; the whole place had a vibe of 1970s debauchery.

Marcella tiptoed past the pool and approached a massive set of sliding glass doors as Jenkins boomed out his warning again from the front. Adding urgency, the loud wail of fire engine sirens split the peaceful afternoon.

Marcella tried the handle of one of the patio doors—it was open. She pushed the glass aside and entered, weapon in low ready position, scanning for movement.

Should she call out, or sneak through the house to let Jenkins in the front door?

Any inhabitants had been notified and apprised of a police presence. Marcella would keep quiet for now and see what she could see.

She padded into an enormous sunken living room designed to make the most of a view out over the pool and Iao Valley with its spires of lush greenery and scarves of cloud; a waterfall tumbling down the mountain was framed by the sliders.

Apparently, crime paid well.

Suddenly she heard voices coming from somewhere off to the left—sleepy, feminine voices.

“FBI! Come out with your hands up!” Marcella shouted.

Silence.

Whoever it was hid in one of the bedrooms. She needed to let Jenkins in, so she had backup.

Marcella trotted down a wide hallway that led to an atrium and the front door. She threw back a few bolts and let her temporary partner inside.

“I called out. There are voices coming from the back part of the house.”

Jenkins threw a thumb back over his shoulder. “Fire trucks are opening the front gate. Backup is right behind them.”

“Let’s go get ‘em now,” Marcella said.

Jenkins’s blue eyes flared with excitement. She let the eager young man lead the way, suppressing a smile. It was a pleasure seeing someone still so enthusiastic about the job.

They proceeded down a glazed tile hallway lined with beautifully lit artworks to a series of closed doors, likely bedrooms.

“Maui Police Department! Come out with your hands on your head and you will not be harmed!” Jenkins bellowed.

A frightened squeal came from one of the rooms; Jenkins leaned forward, pushed down on a lever style handle, and gave the door a shove. The portal flew inward, hard enough to bang off the wall, and the sound of distress came again.

Marcella joined Jenkins in the doorway, using the doorframe for cover as she peered around it to see inside.

The room was done in classic Las Vegas-style bad taste: an enormous waterbed covered in black satin. Two very young girls, probably naked, huddled under the shiny cover. They clung to each other in fright, trying to keep the slippery sheets up while hugging each other as the fluid mattress rippled beneath them. “We didn’t do nothing!”

“Drop any weapons outside the bed. Put your hands on your heads!” Jenkins was all business, his weapon aimed at the girls as he forged ahead to check the bathroom and the closet for any other unknown suspects.

---