Storm didn’t have time to dwell on the Tagamas and the closed bar. Commercial real estate was their business, after all, and she didn’t want to be late to her meeting with Sergeant Moana.
Ten minutes later, when she pulled into the driveway of the Yoshinaka’s modest house, the sight of the pink bicycle on the lawn stung her eyes. Was it Carmen’s? Would she ever want to play with it again?
Moana had already arrived. He leaned against the door of his patrol car and talked on his cell phone. A fuzzy, stuffed orange cat sat on the car’s roof.
“Sorry I’m late,” Storm said when he disconnected.
“No worries, I just got here, too.” He put the phone in his pocket and handed the fluffy toy cat to her.
“You knew the family, didn’t you?”
“My daughters played in a soccer league with Carmen and Crystal.”
“Did you know the father?”
“Not well. He didn’t speak much English. Seemed like a caring dad, though I couldn’t exactly talk story with him.”
“I heard he had some debts. You think he shot himself because of those?”
Moana scuffed his feet in the dry grass. “This is going to come out in the paper, but you can’t say a word until it does.” He looked around, though no one was there. “Yoshinaka had a gambling problem.”
“Cards? Cock fights?”
“He’s small time, so probably cards and Pachinko.”
“Pachinko?”
“Kind of a cross between a slot machine and pin ball.”
Storm frowned. “Small time?”
“He was down about eighteen grand—as opposed to white collar shakedowns, which run into the hundreds of thousands. Millions, for that matter.”
Eighteen grand. Storm wondered if she would look foolish telling him about last night’s experience, but decided not telling him was worse. “I’ve got to tell you a story. Don’t know if it means anything, but you can decide for yourself.” She told him about her visit to Ma‘alahi Storage and the owners, the $18,765 handwritten note on the contract, and how her room had been broken into while she slept.
“My purse was stolen, except for my driver’s license and the car keys. There was a note telling me to go home.”
“This happened soon after you visited that storage place? Because that’s the amount of Yoshinaka’s debt.”
Storm nodded.
“Your only connection to these storage owners is through Lara’s Aquatic Adventures?”
“Lara’s future father-in-law owns the property under the dive shop. He’s also on the board of the consortium that owns Blue Marine and the Yoshinaka’s house.”
Moana screwed up his face. “He’s a pretty big commercial real estate investor, but I’ll look into it.” He thought for a minute. “You’re sure about the dollar amount?”
“I remember the descending numbers.”
“Me, too.” He squinted into the distance. “Let me speak to the cops who went to your room this morning. I’ll also check on that storage facility.”
“Will you let me know?” Storm asked.
“If I can.” He got in his car.
Storm watched him pull away. He’d follow up on her question, but he probably wasn’t going to give her much information. She was curious about those Pachinko machines. Who ran gambling machines on this island? They probably weren’t in private homes. The back rooms of bars? Hotels? Storage facilities?
Wait, she didn’t want to get into this. She’d retrieved Neko the kitty, and done her duty by telling Moana what she knew. Now all she had to do was finish setting up Lara’s corporation in a manner that protected her from liability and fraud. She could finish that project tomorrow morning and still have the rest of the day with Hamlin. It was perfect timing.
Storm was getting in her car when her mobile phone rang. It was a Maui number, not one she recognized.
“Storm? Is that you? It’s Stella. You have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you.”
“You caught me at a pretty good time. What’s up?”
“Uh, is there any chance you could pick me up? Keiko took the car this morning and hasn’t come back and Lara wants me at the shop by noon.”
Storm remembered how Stella had confided in her about Lara’s struggles with her ex-boyfriend. She’d also told Storm a friend had recommended her services to Lara, so Stella must feel a level of trust. On one hand, this could be a big fat hassle. On the other, Stella would be a good source of information regarding the dive shop.
Storm stifled a sigh. At least she’d have a captive interviewee. Could be worse. “Where do you live?”
She got the address, which was off Mokulele Avenue, not far from Kahului.
It took Storm about twenty minutes to get there. On the way, she wondered why Stella didn’t just take a bus or a cab, but the edge to the woman’s normally easy-going voice made her think there was a reason for the call. Sure enough, when Storm got to the condominium, Stella was pacing in the parking lot. She pulled on a cigarette as if it were a pacifier.
She ground out the cigarette and got in the car, flushed and sweating. The smell of smoke clung to her. “Thanks for coming.” Her fingernails were chewed to nubs. “I need to talk to you.”
“Where’s Keiko?”
“I don’t know.” Stella’s hair, usually pinned up with fresh flowers, hung limp. Dark circles underscored her eyes.
“What time did she leave?”
“Around nine, I think. I was having coffee and reading the paper. It took me a while to notice she was gone.”
“She didn’t ask you for the keys?”
“No, but they’re usually on the table by the front door. I thought she was in the bathroom. She liked to take long, hot baths.”
“Anything unusual happen? Did she make any phone calls or receive any?”
“I don’t think so. Not that I knew of.”
“Does she take off very often?”
“No, and I think it’s—” Stella drew a deep breath. “If I hire you, you’re bound to confidentiality, right?”
“Yes.”
“Can I hire you on someone’s behalf?”
“Yes, but if you’re not my client, what you tell me isn’t confidential.”
“Shit.”
Storm thought a moment. “But personal is personal. It’ll take a subpoena to squeeze it out of me.”
“Okay.” Stella slumped in the seat. “I have to talk to someone.”
Storm put the car in park, but left the air conditioner running. “Is this about Keiko?”
Stella nodded. “She’s had a hard life.”
“What’s she done?”
“I’m not sure. Well, I think—” She wrung her hands. “I have to give you some background.”
“I’m okay with that.” Storm kept her voice calm and reassuring.
Stella drew a deep breath. “She was in the mizu shobai. The water trade.”
Storm didn’t know the term.
“You know. Night-time entertainment.”
“Prostitution?”
Stella flushed. “Look, she didn’t have a choice.” Her hands were curled into tight fists.
“Tell me about this.” Storm kept her voice very soft.
“She’s Chinese,” Stella stared out the windshield at a distance Storm couldn’t see. “Her real name is Yuan Ling, and her parents sold her to cover debts.”
Stella had to clear her voice twice, but she went on. “The Yakuza pays about $5000 for young girls in China and the Philippines. They’re told they’ll be given good jobs.”
Her upper lip curled and her tormented eyes slid to gauge Storm’s reaction. Storm worked to keep the shock off her face, and the effort must have been effective because Stella kept talking.
“The men like them very young, you know. Before they get their periods. They call it selling spring.”
“Jesus.” Storm could no longer keep her dismay hidden.
“They make the girls wear school outfits, like short pleated skirts and knee socks. Sometimes with high heels.”
Storm winced and followed Stella’s gaze to the horizon. The older woman’s face was waxy and pale, and she seemed to be revisiting a memory beyond the cane fields.
“How did you get Keiko away from them?” Storm whispered. She wasn’t just asking about Keiko, and Stella knew it.
“I knew something about one of the men.”
“Good for you.”
Stella picked at a hangnail. “But Keiko tried to escape another way. She cut her arms and nearly bled to death.”
“You were with her?”
“No, I got out years ago. This was about eight months ago.” She chewed her thumb. “Someone called me about her.”
“Someone from the, uh…”
“Club. They’re called clubs.”
Storm grimaced at the euphemism. “Who called you?”
Stella looked nervous. “You wouldn’t know her.”
Storm assumed it was one of the prostitutes. “Okay, but why you?”
“Keiko is my goddaughter’s age. Twenty-three. The woman who called knew Angela.”
“Angela was in the same business?”
“Yes, and she died of a drug overdose. It was a means of escape.” Stella swallowed so hard Storm could hear it. “I’m afraid Keiko will try the same thing.”
Storm found her own hands curling into fists. “Did something happen over the last few days to upset her? That would make her take your car and leave?”
Stella returned from the world of the past, and turned reddened eyes to Storm. “Yesterday, I went to see an old friend of mine. It upsets Keiko—she won’t go inside.”
“Inside her home?”
“She’s in a nursing facility.”
Hadn’t Damon mentioned that Lara’s mother was in a nursing home? Storm considered that connection.
“You think that’s what made her take the car and leave?”
“That and Hiroki Yoshinaka’s suicide.”
“Because he killed his daughter?”
Stella’s eyes slid to Storm. “She’s concerned about the sister.”
Debts, Storm thought. “You think she might have, um, done something with Carmen?”
“I’d like to check and make sure.”
“Stella, is gambling part of the water trade?”
Stella’s eyes grew round. “You know about Hiroki’s gambling debts?”
“I suspected.”
“It used to be part of the club scene, but I’m not sure anymore. Keiko ended up in the water trade because of her own father’s debts.”
And Keiko preferred death over life in Obake’s establishment. Apparently, Hiroki Yoshinaka had made a similar choice. Would Keiko have the nerve to do what Hiroki had attempted? Storm put the car in gear, her grip tight on the steering wheel.
“You want to go visit Carmen?”
“I called the hospital earlier, and Keiko hadn’t been there.”
“When did you call?”
“Ten or ten-thirty.”
Storm checked her watch. “Didn’t you say Lara wanted you in the shop by noon? You’re going to be very late.”
Stella’s shoulders drooped.
Storm felt for her. “Look, I need to call Lara to make an appointment to finish setting up her business. I can also find out if she’s expecting you right away.”
The phone rang a long time. Storm was about ready to disconnect when Damon’s voice came on.
“Did you get my message?” he asked.
“Shoots, I’m sorry,” Storm said. “My purse got stolen sometime last night and I completely forgot to call you back.”
“I thought you were mad at me.”
“No, I got distracted. Why’d you call?”
“I can’t remember now.” He laughed.
“Okay.” If you say so. “Say, I’d like to talk to you. You free tonight after work?”
“Are you asking me on a date?” Damon sounded a bit too eager.
“Nice try. It’s a professional date. I don’t play golf.”
He chuckled again. “Neither do I. The Fiddler Crab again? I can meet you at six.”
“Sounds good. Is Lara around?”
“She and Ken took a group of travel agents out diving. Good promotional opportunity, you know.”
“When will she be back? I need to talk to her.”
“Late afternoon, I’d guess.”
Storm could tell that Stella understood the gist of the conversation. “Is there any reason Stella needs to come to the shop right now? She needs some personal time.”
“She could come in and answer this damned phone,” Damon said.
“She’ll be there in an hour. Meanwhile, practice your social skills.”
Damon made a noise somewhere between a snort and a honk and hung up.
Ten minutes later, Storm and Stella pulled into the hospital parking lot. They went past the nursing station, straight to Carmen’s room. The bed was rumpled and no one was in it.
“She could be in the bathroom.” Stella’s words rang with concern.
Storm had already turned back toward the nursing station. “We came to see Carmen Yoshinaka.”
The desk clerk looked up with a practiced smile. “We released her to her auntie. Poor thing. Her only relative here in the U.S.”
“What’s the aunt’s name?” Storm asked.
The clerk fluttered through a pile of papers. “Here.” She handed a form to Storm.
Storm grabbed the paper, and Stella looked over her shoulder. The signature was illegible to Storm, but Stella recognized it.
“That’s Keiko’s,” she said.
Stella waited until they were in Storm’s car to speak. “I’m afraid of what Keiko might do.”
“How far will she go to protect Carmen?”
Stella, her skin papery and grey, merely clenched her hands together.