Right from the Gecko by Cynthia Baxter Read Free Book Online

Marnie Burton was involved in—a situation that had led to her murder—was almost too much to process. I’d come to Maui to learn about the latest developments in veterinary medicine, strengthen my relationship with Nick, and do something I rarely had time for at home: relax. Even I recognized that letting my overly active imagination get in the way of these three noble causes would be a major mistake.
    I pulled open the glass doors of the station, hoping that by the time I left, I’d be laughing about how silly I’d been.
    But I wasn’t there yet. I squared my shoulders and approached the uniformed officer sitting at the front desk. He was wearing a dark blue shirt emblazoned with a shield-shaped patch. In the middle was an eagle, printed with the words
Maui County Police—Hawaii.
    â€œI’d like to talk to someone who’s involved with the investigation of Marnie Burton’s murder,” I told him.
    I braced myself for an argument, or at least a smirk. After all, that was certainly a typical response from the Norfolk County Homicide Department back at home. Instead, the police officer picked up his phone.
    â€œI’ll see if Detective Paleka is available. Your name, please?”
    Nick was right, I thought, amazed. People really are friendlier in Hawaii—even though I wouldn’t expect a police station to be a bastion of aloha spirit. I only hoped the warmth and mellowness that seemed to pervade every aspect of life on Hawaii would carry through my meeting with the police.
    Fortunately, that meeting was with the man at the top. “Afternoon, Ms. Popper,” Detective Peter Paleka greeted me with a curt nod as I entered his small, cluttered office. “Thanks for coming in.”
    I studied the stocky middle-aged man with dark brown eyes, jet black hair, and an expressionless face. He sat up straight in his chair, his back rigid and his hands placed palms down on the surface of his large metal desk. The red-and-blue-striped necktie he wore with his short-sleeved white shirt was held firmly in place with a tie tack so that it formed a perfectly straight line. His militaristic demeanor served as a startling contrast to his Hawaiian-American features, which I’d already come to associate with a relaxed island attitude.
    He struck me as someone who was about as approachable as another Chief of Homicide I’d been forced to deal with: Lieutenant Anthony Falcone, who ran the Norfolk County Homicide Department back on Long Island. Falcone also had dark eyes that bore into me with such intensity that I frequently ended up squirming.
    And he had that same stiff demeanor that invariably made me feel I was wasting his time. While Falcone had no qualms about coming right out and saying as much, Detective Paleka seemed much more polite. Still, aside from the governor and his entourage, I gave this man the award for the most uptight individual I’d encountered so far on the laid-back island of Maui.
    As I studied him, I got the distinct feeling he was studying me too.
    â€œI understand you have some information about Marnie Burton’s murder,” he said, staring at me with disconcerting intensity.
    â€œNot information, exactly.” I shifted in my chair uncomfortably. Now that I was sitting in the hot seat, I wished I’d put more thought into how this conversation was likely to go. “But given the timing of her death, I believe I was one of the last people to speak to her.”
    Interest flickered in his dark eyes. “And did she say anything about where she was going or who she was meeting?”
    â€œShe said she was meeting someone she referred to as a ‘secret source’ later that night.”
    I searched his face for a reaction, expecting him to be impressed. If he was, he didn’t show it.
    â€œThe two of you were close friends?” he asked in the same even voice.
    â€œNot exactly. I just met her once.” In response to