CHAPTER 28.

The campsite was a mess-broken bottles strewn around; a barely-covered latrine hole that stunk to high heaven; and the collapsed blue tent flapping in the wind like a huge bird foundered by a broken wing. We took it all in but stayed back.

"This is a crime scene," I said. "I think we need to locate the grave, take a few pictures, and then get the hell out of here."

"Yeah," said Ono. "Except for the 'head hole' the dirt in this area looks pretty intact. No grave here."

"Beni said he was ordered to dig some distance away. He said when he finished he went down to where they were holding Crystal."

"Okay," said Ono, "why don't you circle around that way to the left and I'll circle right and let's see what we come up with."

Left was uphill from the campsite so I wasn't surprised when I was the one who first spotted the freshly-turned earth. The hole was shallow-maybe two or three feet deep. It was still open; no one had bothered to fill it back up with the mound of dirt piled nearby. Maybe Beni had been right in assuming the drug dealers had chased him as he'd fled the scene. Or, maybe they were just such inhumane dirt-bags that they'd purposely left Crystal's body exposed to the elements so it would decay faster. It didn't matter. There it was, a body-sized bundle, wrapped in a dirty sheet.

"Ono," I yelled. "She's up here."

He thrashed through the brush and joined me. We both gazed down at the bundle.

"You think that's her?" he said.

"Who else?" I'd seen enough. Although the body looked small, lying in the open grave, there was no doubt in my mind we'd finally found Crystal Wilson.

"We better take a look," said Ono. He knelt down and grasped an edge of the sheet. I looked away.

"This her?"

I reluctantly turned back.

He'd pulled the sheet away from her head. She was face-up, her skin the color of day-old poi. Above her closed eyes, dead center in her forehead, were two dime-sized black holes. I sucked in a breath. The last thing she'd seen on this Earth must've been the callous face of her executioner. I could only hope she'd closed her eyes as a final gesture of defiance-to rob her killer of the satisfaction of watching the panic in her eyes as he pulled the trigger.

I turned away again. I'd seen enough. Later, Ono would recall the full extent of Crystal's injuries and the state of her body after almost a week in the hole, but I spared myself the details.

"What do you want to do now?" said Ono as we stood alongside the gravesite. I appreciated him saying that. He was used to issuing orders; being a boat captain and all. But this was my predicament and he respected that.

"Let's take a few photos and get out of here. I'd like to report this before those guys on the trail say anything. Who do you suppose they were?"

"My best guess is they're park workers," Ono said. "You heard the one guy say he'd get paid even if they closed the park? Sounded like a dedicated public servant-Maui-style."

"Would you mind taking the pictures?" I said. "I'm kind of having a hard time here."

"No problem." He rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out my cell phone. Then he leaned over the open hole and snapped half a dozen shots.

"Any other photos you think we should get while we're here?" he said.

I pointed to the debris-strewn campsite below. "Probably ought to take a few establishing shots. I want to make sure Detective Wong has everything he needs to work on this, and nothing he can use to make excuses."

"It's still hard to believe Wong shut you down again and again. Seems to me you brought him some pretty solid leads-the hair and fingernails-not to mention that ransom note."

"Yeah, well if I've learned anything in my prior dealings with the man, it's that it's Wong's way or the highway. I'll bet his partner's got a few stories about what a pleasure he is to work with."

Ono took a few more pictures while I checked the perimeter of the campsite for additional evidence. Aside from the garbage tossed around and the crumpled tent there wasn't much there. I didn't really expect they'd leave drugs or a gun behind, but if I could've spotted some shell casings or other proof of what had happened, and where, it would've helped corroborate Beni's story.

We took the trail on the way back down. It was much easier than crashing through the underbrush but once we got to the bottom I realized why we hadn't noticed it before. It didn't end at the park, but rather looped around and brought us to a gate in a six-foot tall chain-link fence. There was a small green plantation-style house about ten yards away.

"This is strange," I said.

"Yeah," said Ono. He tried the latch on the gate. It rattled but didn't give way.

The sound must've alerted the on-site security, because within seconds a powerfully-built American Staffordshire Terrier-aka a pit bull-was snarling at us only inches away on his side of the chain link. Although he was slobbering and baring his teeth, he looked almost happy; as if he was thrilled to finally have the opportunity to strut his stuff.

"We better go back," I said.

Ono made no move to leave. Instead, he bent down and started making a strange noise deep in his throat. It sounded as if he was trying to communicate with the dog in some kind of visceral dog language.

"Are you nuts?" I said. "Dogs like this don't live alone, you know." I looked at the house, half expecting a wild-eyed guy brandishing a machete to burst through the back door.

Ono kept up the goofy throat noise. I stepped back a few feet and watched.

After half a minute, the dog stopped growling. It perked up its ears as if trying to decode the message Ono was sending. Then it sat down on its haunches, its eyes focused on Ono as if waiting for him to throw a ball.

"What're you doing?" I said.

"I'm dog whispering. I learned it from a guy who trains sled dogs up in Alaska."

"We don't have time for you to sweet-talk this dog. Especially since he's probably only playing along while he figures out whether to go with the bearnaise or the hollandaise sauce on your upper arm."

"Okay." He stood and turned away from the dog. Just like that, the dog leapt up and crashed against the fence. He resumed his rip-your-face-off snarling and barking with even greater vigor.

"I think I hurt his feelings by acting as if I wanted to be friends and then not following through," said Ono.

"Well, it'll hurt my feelings if we stick around here long enough for that ninety-eight pounds of pissed-off to find a hole in this fence."

We hacked our way back through the brush and found our cars.

"Should we call the cops and have them meet us up here?" said Ono.

"Nope. I want to march into that station unannounced. I don't want to give up the element of surprise when I show Wong these pictures. No way he'll be able to stonewall me now."

Since it was Sunday the police station lot was nearly empty except for a couple of cop cars parked out front. I waited for Ono to pull in behind me and park, then we walked together up to the door. I had to press a buzzer to be let inside. Once we got in, I asked the cop at the front desk to please page Detective Wong.

"Investigative services only works normal business hours," said the guy. "They're off today."

"I need to speak to Detective Wong regarding a missing persons report I filed on the first of the month," I said. "Please tell him I now have solid proof of foul play."

"And your name is?"

I told him my name. It always makes me nervous to give my chosen name to the police or any other people in authority. I'm waiting for the day when someone leaps up, thrusts an accusing finger in my face and calls me a big fat liar. It hasn't happened yet, but you never know.

The desk cop pointed to a row of plastic chairs lining the wall. "Please have a seat, Ms. Moon. I'll do my best to get a hold of him."

"I've never been in here before," said Ono. "God knows I've seen my share of police stations, but I somehow managed to avoid this one."

The cop mumbled something into his headset and then looked up at me. "Detective Wong said to tell you he's on his way. If you want something to drink there's a vending machine down the hall. Or, if you need to use the restroom I can give you the key."

"Mahalo, but we're fine. Any idea how long it'll take Detective Wong to get here?"

"He said he was close by," said the clerk. His console started beeping and he looked down, probably relieved to be able to direct his attention elsewhere. My money says Wong isn't anybody's 'Mr. Congeniality' and most likely he'd yelled at the guy for calling him in.

Glen Wong didn't come through the front doors, but suddenly appeared behind the counter where the desk clerk sat.

"Ms. Moon, I see you're not alone. Is this your lawyer?"

I looked over at Ono in his cargo shorts and black tee-shirt and wondered how Wong could possibly mistake the guy for an attorney.

"You're gonna probably need one, that's all," said Wong.

"Why?"

"Because I see an obstruction of justice charge in your future."

"What?"

"We had a deal, right? You promised to leave this missing person investigation up to us. The mere fact that you're here-on a Sunday, no less-makes me assume you've broken that agreement."

"I'm here with undeniable proof that a crime's been committed," I said. "I'm a private citizen doing her civic duty, nothing more. To imply that I'm guilty of obstruction of anything is just plain-"

"Ms. Moon, not following a police order is against the law. And it's a crime to harbor a known fugitive who's wanted for police questioning. Do you need me to go on?"

I bit my lip and looked over at Ono. He shrugged.

"I'll get us an interview room," said Wong. "Follow me."

Ono stood up, but Wong held up his hand like a cop stopping traffic. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this. I'm gonna let you walk out of here this time-no harm, no foul-but I'd suggest you forget all about whatever harebrained story you've been told by Ms. Moon. If it gets back to me you've not taken this advice, Ms. Moon won't be the only one needing a lawyer."

Ono looked at me. His eyes were troubled-as if he was worried I'd think less of him if he didn't posture and bluff in a manly show of protecting me from this bully.

"Go," I said. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this in the first place."

Ono slipped off his backpack, pulled out my cell phone and handed it to me. "Here," he said. "Good luck."

Wong muttered something I couldn't quite hear.

Ono glared at Wong. "You're a pathetic excuse for a cop, you know that? This woman is doing the job you should've been doing two weeks ago. Now you're gonna see what happened as a result of your arrogance. And believe me, if you so much as harm a-"

"Let's not go there, buddy," said Wong. "Ms. Moon and I are going to sit down for a little chat, that's all. She'll be outta here in no time." He turned to me. "Do you have your own ride home?"

I nodded.

"Good. Then I suggest you tell your friend to leave. You can give him a call when we're through."

I nodded again and Ono stomped toward the front door.

Wong led me down the hall and opened the door to the first interview room. He gestured for me to go in ahead of him. I took a seat and he sat on the opposite side of the table.

"Okay, why are you here?" he said.

"I want to show you some pictures that back up everything I've been saying for the past two weeks."

"Do you want to make a formal statement?"

"I guess so."

"Okay, then begin. I'll be recording what you say. We'll have it transcribed and you can sign it later."

In my statement I left out everything pertaining to Beni, saying instead that I'd heard a rumor in town about Crystal being held up in 'Iao Valley. I told Wong that Ono and I had gone up there and found the campsite and the open grave. When I got to the part about seeing her body, I choked up a little but managed to pull out my phone and flick through the photos Ono had taken and held each one up for Wong to see. When we got to the close-up of the two shots in Crystal's skull, he leaned in but didn't change his expression.

"Is that it?" said Wong.

"Is that it-are you joking? I'm showing you pictures of a murdered woman and you're asking me if that's it?"

"No, I mean, is this your entire statement?"

"Yeah. I think that's plenty, don't you?"

Wong picked my phone up off the table. He punched the buttons, scrolling once more through each of the photos. Now and then he stopped to scrutinize a shot before moving on. I waited, not saying anything.

"Pretty impressive police work, wouldn't you say, Detective?" I said. I didn't care that it sounded snotty. I was waiting for him to thank me-or at least offer some shred of appreciation for the irrefutable evidence I'd brought him. Now he had what he needed to launch a full investigation into the kidnapping and murder of Crystal Wilson.

"Mind if I make copies of these photos?" he said. "I'd like to download them to our system."

"Sure, whatever it takes."

He got up and left the room, then came back a few minutes later.

"By the way, did you enjoy your little helicopter ride, Ms. Moon?" he said, handing me my phone.

"How did you-"

"Ms. Moon, it seems you fail to remember even the most rudimentary information I pass along to you. Not long ago I told you it's my business to know who's on this island and what they're up to. Well, that includes locals-like you."

"You have no right-" I stammered.

"You're free to go now," he interrupted. "I suggest you call your friend, Mr. Winston, at your earliest convenience. When he left here he seemed rather concerned about your welfare."

When I got outside I was surprised to find Ono still in the parking lot, sitting in his bus. I walked over and he rolled down the window.