Chapter Fourteen #3
She hadn’t broken the news of Paolo’s death to her sister yet. She was dreading that notification. Akiko and Paolo had been friends since they were children in Ito’s San Diego dojo.
“Someone knew how to disable it, then.” Lennox went to the kitchen, carefully stepping around broken crockery. “The power is on, but they might have turned it off.”
“She has a backup battery,” Kit said, following Lennox. “The alarm still should have gone off. Or at least she should have been notified of a power outage.”
“You should ask her if she got a notification of a power outage,” Sam said. “She might not have paid attention to it since she’s been so worried about Ito.”
Lennox opened the refrigerator door and touched a carton of orange juice. “It’s warm. The power’s on now, but it was off. And I’d say it was off for a while. How long has your sister been gone?”
“About twenty-four hours.” Kit glanced at Sam. “Right?”
“At least,” Sam said. “She was out on a charter yesterday and you got in touch with her about Ito when it had just ended. If she came straight from the marina and hasn’t been home since early yesterday morning, that’s more than thirty-six hours.
But even if she came back here before heading to LA, it’s been twenty-seven hours.
Long enough that everything in her fridge would be warm. ”
“Long enough for the battery backup to go dead,” Lennox added.
Kit’s thoughts were scattered. “That indicates that someone planned this, though. If they didn’t set off her alarm—and I’ll need to call her to find out if that’s true—they purposefully cut off her power and came back when the system was completely dead.”
Sam gently gripped the back of her neck, anchoring her. “That makes sense. Especially if they knew she’d gone to LA.”
“Can you tell what might be missing here?” Lennox asked. “Knowing what was taken would be helpful.”
“I can try. It’s hard to tell with such a mess.” Which was part of the intruder’s strategy. It was hard to determine the intended goal of a robbery until the scene was reorganized.
She walked through each room, her heart sinking at the level of destruction. Walls were damaged, Akiko’s bed slashed, the clothing in her closet tossed to the floor.
“There.” Kit pointed to the desk in Akiko’s home office. “Her laptop is gone, and the contents of her filing cabinet are gone.”
“Could she have taken the laptop with her to LA?” Lennox asked.
“Possibly, but I don’t remember seeing it.
She keeps the current quarter’s documents in the filing cabinet.
She’s really good about staying on top of her filing.
Akiko is very organized.” Kit opened the closet in the office.
More boxes were gone, but not all. “They took the boxes for this month and for the fourth quarter of last year, but no others.”
“That would include October,” Sam noted.
“What kind of records does she keep?” Lennox asked. “Passenger manifests? Like, maybe the name of someone who was on her boat recently and took photos to hang on Laurette Curry’s wall?”
Kit nodded. “The passenger lists are saved to her laptop, because they’re generated by her website. The papers are receipts for business expenses, and the liability forms the passengers have to sign before they can go on the boat.”
“So,” Sam said slowly, “the name, address, and signature of everyone who was on her boat from October first until this weekend were taken.”
“Keeping us from following up on who posted those photos on Curry’s wall,” Lennox said grimly.
Kit frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, though. Whoever killed Curry should have taken those photos down. They had to know that we’d investigate Akiko’s passengers since those photos were taken on the boat.”
“You’re assuming they went to Curry’s bedroom,” Lennox said. “I know that whoever was in Mary Sherman’s house searched it thoroughly, but that doesn’t mean they did the same at Curry’s house. Maybe they killed her and ran.”
“Maybe.” But it still bothered Kit because it did not make sense.
They left the office for Akiko’s spare bedroom. “I sleep here when I stay over,” Kit said, then pointed to the wall opposite the bed, her jaw clenching. It was conspicuously empty. “Her bo staff is missing.”
“Her bo staff?” Lennox asked. “Like a long stick?”
“Yeah.” Kit took out her phone and found a photo of Akiko with the staff. “It looks like this. She won several martial arts competitions with the staff. It’s important to her. I’ll send this photo to you.”
Lennox took out her own phone, inspected the photo, then sent a text. “I asked Ryland to look for it at Paolo’s house.”
Kit grimaced, dismayed by both Lennox’s implication and that the other detective was thinking more clearly than she was. Cut yourself some slack. It’s been a crazy few days. “You think that’s what they beat him with?”
“Anything’s possible,” Lennox said. “But I sure hope not, for your sister’s sake.”
They checked each remaining room, returning to the kitchen. “I don’t know what’s missing here. Akiko has a lot of cooking stuff. Sam? Can you see what might be missing?”
Sam pointed at the counter. “One of the slots in her knife block is empty.” He opened the door to Akiko’s garage and abruptly tensed. “Kit?”
She hurried over to see what was wrong and immediately understood.
Six wooden crates filled the space usually taken up by Akiko’s Subaru.
“That can’t be good,” Kit muttered.
“Probably not,” Sam agreed. He stepped by to let Lennox pass.
The detective walked around the crates, examining the exteriors. “They’re all empty. The lids have been pried off. Probably using Akiko’s missing knife.” She leaned in to sniff them. “Gun oil,” she said. “These crates may have held Paolo’s guns.”