Unknown Victim Kay Hadashi (the unexpected everything txt) 📖

pointlessly flashing in the dim light. The paramedics got out, got several cases of equipment, and trotted to catch up with the police, who were just getting to where Felix stood like a statue.

“The vic’s up here,” Gina told them.

“What’s going on?” one of the cops asked. “Who are you?”

“I’m Gina Santoro. I’m the one that called this in.”

“What’s the deal with him?” one of the cops asked. He was dark-skinned and big, and his shirt needed to be a size larger to fit right. His partner was a tall woman, with classic girl-next-door looks of blond hair and blue eyes, and a gym rat body. She looked more like a party stripper than a real cop.

“He’s a homeless guy that’s been sleeping on the front porch each morning. Today, he’s not waking up.”

The cops holstered their weapons. The big one sent the paramedics up to evaluate the dead man, while the woman went around to the back of the house to look around. After feeling for pulses, the paramedics opened one case and hooked up the EKG monitor to his chest. After a minute of watching nothing happen, they disconnected it, and shook their heads to the police officer. While one put away their equipment, the other filled out a form.

That’s when the big cop came up the steps to the porch, leaving his pretty blond partner to question Felix after she got back to the front of the house.

“You’re the home owner?” he asked Gina.

“Not the owner, but I live here.”

“This is the old Tanizawa place, isn’t it? I remember coming here as a school kid for a field trip. Kind of a mess now.”

“I’m getting it back together.”

“You don’t look like a Tanizawa.”

She already had her driver’s license ready to show him. “Gina Santoro.”

He wrote down the information from her license. “You’re from Cleveland?”

“I just got here a few days ago. Getting kinda tired of telling everybody that, though.” She put her license away again. “I tried to preserve the scene for you, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Somebody needs to investigate.”

“Investigate what?” he asked.

“His death.”

He took a deep breath, his shirt stretching across his broad chest even more. She noticed the nametag on his shirt said Iosefa. “Miss Santoro, we have calls about a dozen homeless deaths every week. Usually it’s a matter of identifying the body and transporting to the morgue. Most of the time they’ve overdosed on the cheap drug of the week and nobody found them until too late. My guess, that’s what happened here.”

“That’s what I was thinking. But maybe we should go through his pockets for paraphernalia?”

“We?”

“Sorry. You.”

“Look, lady. I’m still not sure who you are, and you better believe I’m gonna check you out, but I don’t need you telling me how to investigate a death. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry.”

Felix must’ve heard the dressing down, because he turned toward them. “Hey! She used to be a cop.”

Officer Iosefa apprized Gina again. “That true?”

“A long time ago.”

“That’s why you knew to keep the scene secure?”

“Just old training kicking in, I guess.” If there was one thing Gina knew, it was to remain on the good side of the police, if for no other reason than to stay out of trouble. “I didn’t mean to interfere.”

When he smiled at her, it was more of a one-sided sneer that punks back home in Little Italy gave to each other when posturing. Hopefully, it had a different meaning here in Honolulu. “That’s okay. No worries. You know anything else about this guy?”

“Like why he used my front porch to sleep on?” she asked.

“Or why he picked your porch to die on?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

“Nothing. Only that he’s dead on your porch. That raises questions. You’d know that if you really were a police officer in the past.”

“Look, I have no idea who he is, where he came from every night, or why he came here. He’s just some guy.”

“Yeah, just some guy.” Officer Iosefa made a few notes on his notepad. “How many times have I heard that from witnesses?”

“Too many,” Gina said. “They’re always just some guy, until they die. Then when it’s too late to care about them, everybody pays attention.”

Together, both officers put on gloves before going through the dead man’s pockets while Gina watched. All they found were a leather wallet, small pocketknife, and a shiny bottle cap. As much as she wanted to, Gina couldn’t pick up any of it for a closer look. She’d already been labeled as ‘the gardener’, and as such, she would only interfere. As it was, Gina was surprised she was allowed so close to the body and the evidence. But if she couldn’t touch, she could at least take pictures with her phone.

Both cops noticed her snapping photos.

“You don’t mind, do you? Just a few snapshots.”

“What’s your stake in this, anyway?” the woman cop asked.

“As we’ve already determined just a moment ago, he’s a dead guy on the front porch of my residence. Plus, I’m the one who found him. We both know that by the end of the morning, a detective will be here asking me questions, and he’ll take as much time as he needs. I might even end up in the police station to answer questions as a suspect. That’s my stake in this.”

“Not like you’re from the press,” Officer Iosefa said. “But if I find any of those online in social media, I’m busting you for obstructing a police investigation.”

“Any ID in the wallet?” Gina asked, ignoring his warnings.

Officer Iosefa opened it. There was only a small black and white snapshot of a dark-haired woman holding the hand of a small child, with palm trees in the background. No money, no driver’s license, nothing. Just the old snapshot.

“I wonder who that is?” the blond cop asked. Her nametag said Davis.

“Maybe Iris?” Gina offered. She took a picture of the photo, trying to get a clear close-up of it.

“Why Iris?”

“Look at his forearm. He’s got a tat