Verlin Yashiro.

  Now he was involved with Willa Breslin, a suspect in the murder of her ex-husband. What were the odds?

  Apparently, pretty good from where he was sitting. That was good enough for Mancuso as he headed back to his vehicle, ready to phone in this important development.

  * * *

  Ferguson lay in bed beside his girlfriend Gina, thoroughly exhausted after having sex every which way and then some. It helped take his mind off the demands of dealing with homicides day in and out, as well as the thought that his wife had left him for another man, notwithstanding the fact that the marriage had died well before that. For better or worse, Gina was good for him and he was good for her.

  He had no idea what the future held for them. But, for now, he enjoyed her company in and out of bed, though especially the former, where she'd taught him a few things from her former profession that brought him to new heights of sexual satisfaction.

  She cozied up to him and cooed: "Can I tell you a secret?"

  "Sure," he said, wondering what it might be. Maybe she had a secret lover. He hoped not, as he wanted her all for himself.

  "I have a kid."

  "Really?" He looked down at her face. Somehow he never pictured her as a mother. Maybe he should have.

  "Yes. A girl. She's nine now."

  "Where is she?"

  "I gave her up for adoption." He detected the pain in her voice. "I got pregnant when I was still in the business. The father, a client and judge, was married with three adult children. I knew he would never claim a child from a whore, and I didn't want to raise her in that environment, so I did what I felt was best for her—gave her up so she could have a normal life."

  "Do you regret it?" Ferguson asked.

  "Part of me does, of course," Gina said sadly. "She's my flesh and blood. But I know it was the right thing to do."

  "I agree, under the circumstances," he muttered, assuming that was what she wanted to hear.

  She paused. "I know where she is..."

  He cocked a brow. "You do?"

  "Yes, I hired a private eye a few years ago to track her down. Her name is Akela and she lives on Maui..."

  Ferguson shifted his body. "Have you seen her?"

  "Yes, every now and then." Gina licked her lips. "And guess what? You know the man who adopted her with his wife—"

  "I do?" He met her eyes curiously. "Who is it?"

  "Blake Seymour. I think he's your lieutenant..."

  Ferguson's head snapped back in disbelief. He had met Akela at a picnic at Seymour's house. He was surprised he hadn't put two and two together, knowing Blake and his wife Mele had adopted the child after being unable to have children of their own.

  Still, it threw Ferguson for a loop. What were the odds that Seymour's kid was Gina's? And vice versa?

  "Say something—" Gina said.

  "What do want me to say?"

  "Anything."

  "Okay." He considered his words carefully. "What do you plan to do? Do you want to be part of her life? What?"

  "I don't want to do anything to disrupt her life," she told him. "I know Akela is in a good place with people who love her. I just like to see what she's up to from afar, how she's growing up. I hope someday she'll try to find me so I can explain why I gave her up, and then maybe she'll forgive me."

  "Maybe that can happen someday and she'll understand," Ferguson said. He breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't planning to cause trouble right now for Seymour and his wife. Especially since it would impact me too, he thought, trying to imagine what Seymour would think if he knew his daughter's mother used to be a prostitute and was now living with a homicide detective under his command. All told, the best Gina could do was keep this information to herself. At least until the day came when Akela took it upon herself to try to find her birth mother.

  "Does learning this upset you?" Gina asked.

  "No," he responded nicely. "I'm glad you told me."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yeah, it makes me feel closer to you when everything is out in the open."

  She smiled. "Same here."

  He found himself getting aroused again. Somehow knowing something about Seymour that he didn't even know himself gave Ferguson a sense of power, even if he never planned to exploit it. But he could never predict the future. Or be responsible for the past.

  Leaning his face toward hers, he kissed Gina on the mouth. She reciprocated in kind and they made love again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  "Aloha kakahiaka, Makuakane," Akela Seymour said to her father.

  "Good morning to you," Seymour said. He smiled as his nine-year-old daughter ran up to him in their contemporary house in Kahului. She spoke Hawaiian nearly as fluently as she did English, which pleased him in maintaining that part of her heritage. He wished he could say that she looked like her mother, but since he didn't know what her birth mother looked like, that wasn't the case. All he knew was that the Native Hawaiian child he and his wife Mele had adopted when she was not even a month old had blossomed into a beautiful little girl, with long black hair and big bold brown eyes. He couldn't imagine not having her in his life.

  "You ready for school?" he asked her.

  "Of course." She beamed. "I'm always ready for school."

  He laughed. "Glad to hear that. Let's hope you keep that attitude all the way through college."

  She giggled. "I'll try."

  Mele came out of the kitchen with Akela's lunch. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. "We better go before you're late," she told their daughter.

  Akela grabbed the brown bag. "Okay."

  Mele gazed at Seymour. "What time will you be home tonight?"

  He didn't want to lie to her, as that had gotten him into trouble before and contributed to nearly ending their marriage. "Not sure," he replied, knowing that the greater responsibilities of being a lieutenant didn't allow him the luxury of punching out at a given time. Still, he added to soften the blow: "But I shouldn't be too late."

  She twisted her lips with resignation. "Okay, we'll see you then."

  He gave her a kiss on the mouth and kissed Akela's cheek before seeing them out. He left shortly thereafter.

  During the drive to work, Seymour thought about Parker Breslin and the young daughter he'd left behind. She would never get to truly know him or vice versa. It was a fate Seymour wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. That was one reason seeing to it that justice was served in apprehending Breslin's killer was such a priority for him and the department. And it looked like they were beginning to make some headway there. Sadly, it appeared the one calling the shots was far too close to home, even if not especially surprising, all things considered. Intimate homicides were prevalent in society and always came at a terrible price. In this instance, the victim's daughter, Marie, would have to suffer that much more once she was old enough to reconcile the apparent sad truth about her parents.

  Seymour was still thinking about the effect it would have on Breslin's daughter if her own mother had orchestrated the hit on him. He was standing outside the interrogation room, alongside the detectives working the case. He gazed through the one-way window as Willa Takeyama sat there staring at the wall.

  "The walls are closing in on her," Rachel said confidently.

  "Not fast enough, as far as I'm concerned," Leila muttered. "She clearly thinks she's pulled one over on us and isn't likely to blink."

  Chung grunted and said: "Maybe she'll rethink that now that her ex-boyfriend is talking."

  "My guess is she's sweating bullets right now," Ferguson said.

  "I think she's sweated long enough," Seymour said. "Let's go see what the lady has to say for herself, if anything."

  "This should be interesting," Leila remarked.

  He agreed. Just how interesting it would be depended on the suspect and her willingness to play ball at her own expense.

  * * *

  Rachel entered the room with Ferguson, knowing that the stakes were high for all parties concerned. They now had a bona fide suspect with Parker Breslin's ex suspected as the one behind his murder. As though that weren't enough, in a disturbing surprise twist, she was now linked to Verlin Yashiro, a suspect in the murder of his estranged wife Joyce. Had the two been in on this all along?

  Rachel sat down in front of the suspect and asked tartly: "So do you prefer we call you Willa Takeyama or Willa Breslin?"

  Willa blinked uncomfortably. "Whatever you want, though these days I'm going by my maiden name, Takeyama."

  "So be it. Well, Ms. Takeyama, there's been an interesting development since we last had you in..."

  "Really? What is it?" she asked coolly.

  "Do you know a man named Ray Hennesy?"

  Willa's eyes widened. "Yes, we used to date."

  "According to Hennesy, you did more than just date. He says you tried to recruit him to murder your ex, Parker Breslin."

  Willa sighed theatrically. "He told you that?"

  Ferguson stepped in, staring down at her. "He told us more than that. Hennesy said you offered to pay him twenty grand to murder Breslin."

  "I did no such thing," she insisted. "Ray is a consummate liar who would say anything to get back at me."

  "Why would he want to get back at you?" he asked.

  "Why do you think? Because I broke up with him and it pissed him off."

  Rachel peered at her cynically. "You expect us to believe Hennesy would concoct such a story out of revenge all because you ended the relationship?"

  "It's the truth! Ray is a control freak. He hated that I wanted to end a volatile relationship and swore he'd make me pay. Now I see how he intended to do that."

  Rachel had to hand it to her; she seemed to have an answer for everything and was daring them to prove otherwise. "There's a problem with your version of the story," she told the suspect. "Hennesy actually went to Breslin's house and cased the place. In the process, he happened to spit out some gum. We were able to link it to him through DNA. I seriously doubt he would have been smart enough to count on that if his intention was to set you up for conspiring to murder your ex, especially when he initially denied playing any part in Breslin's death, including your involvement."

  "So maybe he's a lot smarter than you give him credit for," Willa suggested. "If he went to Parker's house, it was because he wanted to stick it to me. I had absolutely nothing to do with it. What better way to implicate me than by leaving the gum and waiting for you to figure it out for yourself?"

  Rachel narrowed her eyes, hiding her frustration. "You know what I think? I think you're the one lying here. I think you were willing to do anything to get full custody of your daughter. That included using Ray Hennesy to kill your ex. Only Hennesy got cold feet, turning down your offer—even though it meant no longer getting you into bed and missing out on a big payday!"

  Willa's thin brows bridged menacingly. "The whole thing is absurd," she maintained. "I do not have $20,000 to spare to hire someone to kill Parker or anyone else. So why would I pretend I did knowing that when it came time to collect, I would risk Ray going to the police?"

  "Uh, I don't know," Rachel said sarcastically. "Maybe because you thought we'd pin the entire thing on your boyfriend and you would go free to move on to another man, while keeping custody of your daughter."

  "It never happened—none of it!" Willa stated firmly. "Sorry if I won't admit to something that's not true."

  Rachel bit her lower lip, aware they didn't have enough to hold her, in spite of what Ray Hennesy had to say. She glanced at Ferguson and moved on to their next angle. "Okay, then let's talk about Verlin Yashiro—"

  Willa was clearly taken aback by the mention of his name. "What about him?" she asked unevenly.

  "How long have you been dating him?"

  Willa paused. "Off and on for a few months."

  Rachel looked at her. "So you were seeing him and Ray Hennesy at the same time?"

  Another pause. "Is there a law against dating two men at once?"

  "Only when you use one or both in a murder for hire scheme," stated Ferguson, taking a seat next to Rachel. "Or did Yashiro offer to do it for the price of being in your bed—or his?"

  Willa wrung her hands. "There was no murder plot between me and Verlin, just like there wasn't one with Ray. We've simply been dating like normal people—nothing more."

  Rachel leaned forward. "Are you aware that Yashiro is a suspect in the murder of his estranged wife, Joyce Yashiro...?"

  Willa sighed. "I knew she had been killed, but I didn't know he was a suspect, especially since we were together at the time she was killed. I told the other detectives that—"

  Rachel eyed Ferguson. They had already been updated on this development from Leila and Chung. But that didn't mean it had to be revealed to the woman suspected of masterminding a murder.

  "So you were with Yashiro when his wife was killed, huh?" she threw out.

  "Yes, the entire night," insisted Willa.

  Rachel pressed her hands on the table. "I find it just a little suspicious that you're the alibi for Yashiro in his wife's death, and he just happens to be involved with you while someone was gunning down your ex. Do you see how strange that looks from our perspective?"

  "Maybe it does," Willa offered, "but one thing has nothing to do with the other. Verlin and I had nothing to do with the deaths of our spouses or exes—or, for that matter, each other's. I'm sure you would love to make this out to be some sort of weird joint conspiracy, but it never happened, I'm sorry."

  So am I, Rachel thought. Sorry that we can't arrest you on the spot and throw away the key.

  Regrettably, that was the situation they found themselves in. And Willa knew it. All they could do right now was let her know they were onto her and bide their time.

  Which, unfortunately, was playing right into her hands.

  * * *

  "Basically, like it or not, right now it's his word against hers," Seymour said ten minutes later. He was standing outside another interrogation room where Verlin Yashiro sat. Leila and Rachel were waiting to go in.

  "And Willa knows that all too well," muttered Rachel. "She's smart and cunning, if nothing else—and she has an ally in Verlin Yashiro."

  "They're playing us," Leila said. "More than likely, they're both involved in the murders of Joyce Yashiro and Parker Breslin." She was still reeling from the realization that Breslin's alibi was a suspect in another murder case and she had used her maiden name, perhaps to try to circumvent the connection.

  "Yeah, it looks that way," Seymour said. "Unfortunately, they also have alibis, shaky or not. And without something more to go on than Ray Hennesy's unsubstantiated allegation, we may have no choice but to cut Willa Takeyama loose."

  Leila sighed. Deep down inside, she knew they were right. A search warrant had been executed in searching Hennesy's residence, but they couldn't find the murder weapon used to pump three bullets into Parker Breslin. This only gave more credence to Hennesy's assertion that he was not the killer.

  Now was the time to see if Verlin Yashiro would crack under the pressure of two murders he may have been involved in.

  "We'll see if Yashiro tells a different tale than his girlfriend," Leila said.

  "I can't wait to get at him," Rachel added eagerly.

  "Neither can I," Leila said as they stepped inside the room. She wondered if either of them could break a man who seemed just as callous and calculating as Willa Takeyama.

  Rachel took a seat in front of Yashiro, while Leila sat to the side of him.

  After taking a breath, Rachel spoke first. "I'm Detective Lancaster. I'm investigating the murder of Parker Breslin—the ex-husband of your girlfriend, Willa Takeyama."

  Yashiro winced. "Yes, Willa and I are dating, but what does that have to do with her ex-husband's death?"

  Rachel rolled her eyes. "Duh—we believe that Willa got someone to murder Parker Breslin. First, she tried to recruit her last boyfriend, Ray Hennesy—offering him $20,000 to do the dirty deed. Once he refused, it only stands to reason that she would get someone else—like maybe a man already suspected of being involved in his own wife's murder. How am I doing so far?"

  His brows twitched. "It's ludicrous to suggest I had anything to do with Breslin's murder," he contended. "As for my wife, I have an alibi—"

  "I know, you were supposedly with Ms. Takeyama," Rachel said, cutting him off. "How convenient."

  Yashiro maintained his composure. "It's true. I've done nothing wrong being involved with Willa when my wife and I were no longer together. And Willa is divorced. Neither of us had any reason to want either of them dead."

  Leila listened patiently; sure that he was feeding them a pack of lies while trying to cover his ass and save his lover's ass at the same time.

  "Where were you when Parker Breslin was gunned down?" Rachel asked pointblank, reminding him of the day and time.

  As though fully prepared for the question, Yashiro responded without prelude: "I was in a meeting with a group of people at my company, the Aloha Architectural Group. And I can provide you with the names of everyone who was there to verify it."

  "You do that," she demanded. "And while you're at it, you can tell me who you and Willa Takeyama Breslin hired to knock off your wife and her ex-husband. Think you can do that for me?"

  "That's crazy!" Yashiro made a face. "I hired no one. Neither did Willa. You're grasping at straws and coming up short!"

  Rachel sighed and met Leila's eyes, as though conceding defeat. Leila faced Yashiro, determined not to allow him and his lover to get away with murder.

  "Seems like we keep meeting, Yashiro," she said humorlessly. "What's up with that?"

  He glared at her. "You tell me, Detective Kahana. Seems like you enjoy persecuting an innocent man—and an innocent woman, too!"

  Leila held his gaze, disregarding his claims of innocence. Still, she pretended to give him the benefit of the doubt by saying: "Believe me, I wish we didn't have to keep bringing you down here. Maybe you are totally blameless in the murder of your wife and have nothing to do with the murder of your lover's ex-husband. But put yourself in our shoes. The fact that you two are together and two people who were intimates of yours are dead...well, it just doesn't look good."