The Bone Field Debra Bokur (novels for beginners .txt) 📖

Marcia’s voice sounded shaky. “Yes, I do understand. What can I do to help?”

“Three things. Can you tell me what became of Helen’s belongings after she went missing? And do you have access to your sister’s dental and medical records? And lastly, is it possible you have anything closely related to her? I know it sounds odd, but something like an old hairbrush would be very useful.”

Marcia considered the questions before responding right away. “I don’t know what happened to the things she had in Hawai‘i. They weren’t sent to me, I’m afraid—but there are some of her old things here in my house. Winter clothes she didn’t think she’d need. I’ll look through them and see if there’s anything mixed in with them.” Her voice sounded sad. “I thought eventually Helen would come home, so I kept it all here, in the closet in my spare room.”

Next to her, Walter gave a thumbs-up. Hara sat tensely on the edge of his chair.

Kali tried not to sound elated. “That would be enormously helpful. If you could get back to me, we can go from there. We can also give you instructions on how to provide a DNA sample. Our colleagues in Reno will help you with that, and send the results to us here in Maui.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you for your help, Miss Woolsey. I assure you we’re all very grateful. I’m going to pass you to Officer David Hara now. He’ll explain to you how to reach us.”

She passed her phone to Hara, and she and Walter moved to the far side of the room.

“I’ll call Reno about the sample, and have Hara see what he can find out about Reggie McCartney while we’re waiting for them to get back to us,” said Walter.

“Got it. I’ll track down whoever’s living in the place that’s listed as their last address,” said Kali. “The landlord may have cleaned out the place and thrown away everything left behind by Helen and Reggie,” she continued, “but we may get lucky and find out they stashed a box of their belongings somewhere.”

“Some luck would be welcome,” agreed Walter. “As long as it’s the good kind.”

Finishing up the phone call, Hara moved to the printer. He was replacing the standard copy paper with a heavy-duty laser photo paper. Kali watched from the corner of her eye as he went back to his computer and typed rapidly on the keyboard. The printer hummed to life. Hara walked toward them and thrust the newly printed pages into Walter’s hands. “Photos of Matthew Greene, Helen Stafford, and Reggie McCartney,” he said. “Last known driver’s licenses, plus what we had in the records from the original missing-persons report.”

Kali stood close to Walter, eyeing the photos curiously. Matthew Greene had a narrow face and brown hair parted on the side. He wasn’t smiling for the camera. She set his image aside. The other photos showed a slender young woman with long, light-colored hair and a happy smile beneath a nose and cheeks sprinkled with freckles. Reggie McCartney was stocky, with dark, curling hair that reached well past his shoulders. To Kali, both people looked friendly and uncomplicated, faces that would have blended in easily to any group of tourists or young people gathered at a bar or beachside café. Besides the driver’s license photos, there was another one showing Helen and Reggie together, seated side by side, shoulders touching. Each was wearing a plastic flower lei. They were standing in front of the arrivals hall at the airport in Honolulu, a stack of suitcases on the sidewalk next to them. Kali wondered if they’d asked a taxi driver to snap the image, overcome with excitement to be in Hawai‘i.

“Here, you take these,” Walter said to her, handing her the photos. “Good job, Hara.”

Hara nodded. Kali could tell that he was pleased. She smiled. “Can you help me tape up these photos?”

Hara looked at the available wall space. “Maybe we could put up one of those crime scene whiteboards you see in all the television shows so we can spread out our information.”

Walter lifted his brow. “Yeah. Like on Kali’s favorite police show, Lights Out Maui. And then we can put up another one for every one of the other cases we’re working on. We’ll need to add on a few rooms pretty quick.”

Kali looked thoughtful. “Ignoring the Chad Caesar reference, I would like to spread these images out,” she said, looking around. At the end of the room, against the wall facing the outside of the building, a metal table was being used as a repository for miscellaneous books, papers, and stacks of nonessential folders. She walked toward the table and surveyed the surface accumulation. “Let’s find somewhere else for all of this, at least temporarily,” she said. “Hara, feel like giving me a hand?”

He joined her, making no attempt to disguise his eagerness. “I’ll go and get a few of those big plastic bins from the storage room,” he said, then hurried toward the door.

“Don’t get too busy organizing, please. Remember that I need you later for rooster fights,” said Walter as he watched Hara’s retreating back. “I’ve got a hot date with a local champion tonight, though he doesn’t know it yet.”

“What’s up?” Kali asked as she began to sort through the papers on the table.

Walter reached forward, gathering up a stack of safety flyers intended for presentations at local schools. “Remember I told you about Bitty and Johnny Benga, the sister and brother we had in custody?”

“Had? As in past tense?”

“Couldn’t hold them any longer,” said Walter, his voice patient, restrained. “They have a lawyer working the native rights angle.”

“Benga,” repeated Kali. “I don’t remember you mentioning their name before. Isn’t that Samoan?”

“I think so, yeah. But because their families have been here long enough to be landowners, they’re regarded as native Hawaiians, with all of the rights that go along with that. Their lawyer