Page 6 of Deadly Sacrifice

He set off back across the lava plain and studied the volcanic stone, entranced as daylight revealed fantastical shapes and colors. Not just black, the lava’s strata flaunted a spectrum of browns and grays, some rich cinnamon red-oranges, and some pockets of an almost peacock hue.

Slowly working his way back, Jeff stopped to photograph trees, waves rolling up onto lava shelves, and ancient, crumbling rock walls that seemed to be the remains of an old village. He was close to the parking lot when movement on the water caught his eye:dolphins.

He switched lenses to zoom in on the amazing mammals, catching silver glints of sunshine reflecting off their sleek backs as they swam along the surface. Occasionally one would leap up into the air and swirl on its axis before splashing back down.

“Ah. Spinner dolphins.” Jeff grinned in amazement as he watched them frolic and eventually swim out to sea, disappearing around the point to the west.

A different movement on a lava flow caught his eye, and he aimed his camera in that direction. Through the telephoto lens, he could make out a human form moving around in the shadows of a rocky depression. The person was wearing a black shirt, dark pants, and had long black hair in a ponytail.

Jeff adjusted the camera’s focus to sharpen the image, capturing his subject bending over something hidden against a rock column. It appeared that he—or she—was taking pictures of whatever it was.

Out of curiosity, unsure what the person was doing trespassing off the beaten path, Jeff fired off a few shots. He frowned as the figure stood up, glanced around, and then jogged away, pushing a large handcart through the lava.

“What was that all about?” Jeff muttered. He loaded his gear into his backpack carrying case. “Doesn’t matter. I got the shot with those dolphins.”

Jeff hiked back to his Jeep. He drank some water and headed for the Cove in Kihei to do some standup paddleboarding and cool off. He had a plan to meet some photographer friends on Haleakala for another shoot tomorrow, but before he did that, he would edit the photos he’d taken today.

If only he had someone special to share his move to paradise with. Maybe he’d meet a girl tonight when he went to his favorite bar and pizza hangout, the South Shore Tiki Lounge in Kihei. The place had a casual, upbeat vibe where anything might happen—from a one-night stand to falling in love.

Jeff wouldn’t say no to a hookup, but he was hoping for more. “Maybe she’ll show up today,” he muttered, navigating out of the parking lot. “Would be great to find someone special to share this place with.”

5

LEI

The next day,Lei and her partner Pono Kaihale attended a training session at the Kihei Police Station. At noon, the class went on a break. All the Kihei District officers and staff fled to their cubicles to check phone messages and emails. Lei and Pono were the only ones left in the room.

Her partner Pono had been with Lei for years. A loyal and trustworthy friend, he was more like a brother to her after all this time. In his mid-thirties, large and muscular, Pono had the features and black hair of his mostly Hawaiian with one-quarter Filipino ancestry. Tribal tattoos, close-cropped hair, and an ever-present pair of opaque Oakley sunglasses hid a kind heart. A doting father and a true ‘local,’ Pono had a deep knowledge of his heritage and culture along with lifelong connections that came in handy during investigations.

Lei now regretted giving away last night’s leftovers. “Dang it. I forgot about this training and didn’t pack a lunch. Think we have time to run out and grab a sandwich?”

“No worries. You may have spaced it, but I didn’t.” Pono reached down into a navy blue insulated pack beside the table at which they sat. “Packed for us both. Hope you like kalua pork; was all we had on hand.”

“Bro. You’re a lifesaver!” Lei gratefully accepted a wax paper wrapped bundle containing generous amounts of Hawaiian style shredded pork on a large, purple taro bun. Her stomach rumbled in happy agreement as she bit into the sandwich. “Mm. Did I mention you’re the best? I didn’t remember to eat breakfast, either.”

“That’s par for the course with you, Sweets.” Pono used the ironic nickname a few people in Lei’s life were allowed to use as he dabbed a bit of mayo off his short, bristly mustache with a napkin. He then fished a couple of icy Diet Cokes out of the cooler bag. “I figure a little caffeine will help us get through the afternoon lecture. The latest in fingerprint technology may be important, but it’s going to take a lot to keep me awake this afternoon.”

They were just finishing up and getting ready to go outside to get a break from the overly air-conditioned room, when the station chief poked his head in and said, “Texeira. Kaihale. Are you the only ones around?”

“Instructor’s on lunch break,” Lei said. “Everyone else disappeared. Who are you looking for?”

“Well, anyone, right now. We have a possible homicide down at La Perouse Bay. I’ve got a patrol car responding. Need some detectives.”

Lei jumped up. “We’ll take it. We’re the senior homicide team on the island, anyway. Come on, Pono. Let’s get out to the scene.”

A few minutes later, flying down the highway through Wailea and Makena in Pono’s jacked-up purple truck with the cop light going on the dash, her partner spoke. “I wish everyone would stop calling it La Perouse. The correct name is Kenoe‘o‘io. There was a large fishing village located there for hundreds of years. La Perouse was just a European explorer who ‘discovered’ the bay and put it on a map. That whole area is covered with villages, burial sites, andwahi pana—sacred places.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Lei agreed. “Maybe one day they’ll change it back.”

“Or we could just refuse to call it La Perouse and hope Kenoe‘o‘io catches on.”

Pono pulled the truck, nicknamed Stanley, into the parking lot outside the reserve area, braking in a clatter of gravel. Lei stepped out the instant the vehicle stopped rolling, picking up her crime kit from behind the seat. Pono, carrying his, followed right on her heels.

They approached the patrol officer on-scene, who waved them over to where he was standing in the scant shade of akiawetree with the sign-in log. Two middle-aged male civilians dressed in expensive hiking gear with trekking poles stood beside him.

“Sergeant Lei Texeira and Detective Pono Kaihale. What’s the situation?” she asked.

“Hey, Sergeant. These men were hiking on the lava. They discovered a body.”

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