Page 64 of Hidden Falls

The yard smelled of the ‘ulufruit that had fallen and rotted on the ground in the long, patchy, dry grass. The whole place looked neglected—deserted, even.

The dog continued to bark a few houses down, but it must be a frequent occurrence because no one seemed to be paying attention; she heard no voice raised to shush it.

Jenkins was already at the back door; he gestured for her to go around and cover the front. Marcella hurried along the side of the house, noting a pair of overflowing trash cans filled with bags spilling takeaway food containers.

Someone was lying low inside the house, keeping a pretense the place was empty—but the garbage told a different tale.

Marcella reached the front entry, a low cement patio with one step of elevation. She crouched beside the door behind a large, empty ceramic urn, her weapon ready, listening for Jenkins’s signal. Marcella reached out and tried the handle: no luck. Of course, the thing was locked.

She didn’t have long to wait.

Jenkins’s voice boomed from the backyard: “Maui Police Department. Open up immediately!” His fist banged on the wooden door with a boom that echoed through the house to vibrate the timber of the front door, too.

She heard a flurry of voices and the thump of footsteps inside. Yep, the place was definitely occupied.

Moments later, the door’s knob turned, the portal opened, and a young man rushed out.

Marcella had positioned herself carefully. She extended her foot, and almost smiled as the unsub tripped over it dramatically.She rose to stand, weapon ready, still out of visual range. A young woman ran out next, crashing into her fallen companion with a little scream and landing on top of him in a heap.

Marcella waited another beat, and a third young woman appeared.

This girl was moving slowly enough to avoid the scrum in the doorway but caught sight of Marcella. “FBI! Put your hands on your head. Up against the wall!”

The young woman froze and blanched, raising her hands, then moving to press her back against the wall, putting her hands on her head.

The two on the ground sorted themselves out and slowly rose to their feet.

Marcella repeated her directions regarding their hands. The two who’d tripped put their hands on their heads and backed up to stand beside the first female suspect.

Inside the house, hasty, rapid thumps marked the searching movements of Jenkins through the house and sounded clearly through the open door.

Marcella turned the three young people against the wall, frisked them, and restrained them with zip ties behind their backs. One by one she moved them out into the open area of the driveway and sat them on the ground in front of the house.

The young man finally spoke. “What the hell is this about?”

“You could have let us in quietly to talk it over if you had nothing to hide,” Marcella said. “You know what it’s about.”

“Are we under arrest?” One of the girls quavered.

“That remains to be seen,” Marcella said, planting the seed of hope for later exploitation. The girls definitely were underage, the man not so much.

Right on cue, Jenkins’s head appeared in the doorway. He’d lost his ball cap somewhere along the way, and his face was red with exertion and shiny with excitement. “House is clear. Plenty of evidence lying all over the place.”

“Any sign of Paulson?” Marcella kept her eyes on the suspects and noted that one of the girls jerked as if she had been poked with a pin at the mention of Paulson’s name.

“Nope. He’s not here.”

“These young people seem to know a few things and appear to be concerned about being arrested in connection with Paulson’s drug operation,” Marcella said loudly. She didn’t want any of the three to miss her comment. “Let’s talk to them and see what they know. Things will go better for those who cooperate.” She walked forward and grabbed the girl who had jumped at Paulson’s name. “Come inside with me.”

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The male suspect shot the girl a threatening glare. Marcella narrowed her eyes, assessing him carefully as she hauled the teenaged girl to her feet: possible Asian descent, one hundred fifty pounds, five foot ten inches tall, age approximately mid-twenties. Definitely older than the girls, likely the on-site leader.

Marcella caught Jenkins’s eye and pointed at the suspect with her chin.

Her partner gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I’ll keep an eye on these two.”

Marcella pushed the teen girl ahead of her into the house.

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