ON THE WAY TO A MEXICAN restaurant in Hale’iwa, driving along Kamehameha Highway, Katerina points out the boundaries of Hale’iwa Beach Park and the yellow tape strung along the forest trees, including mangrove trees, in the undeveloped block of land where Agustin’s murdered body was found. Katerina shudders and Pari understands why Katerina does not want to be alone.
“Are you holding up?” Pari asks Katerina when they are seated in the restaurant, just hundreds of feet from the crime scene.
“I am feeling terribly conflicted with guilt and denial,” Katerina says. “Yet it does not feel real. The media has not released his name. It may seem more real then. I jog right by this area almost every day. It really seems the same, as if something heinous has not occurred, except for the yello
