CHAPTER 43
ARI
“Manu Kealoha? There’s a name from the past.”
Jake Smith leaned on the half-polished police car parked in his driveway. He still lived in the same home that Mrs. Wise had recalled, although it was in good shape now, neatly painted in pale green with white accents. A basketball hoop was fixed above the two-car garage, and a small pink bicycle with streamers on the handlebars had been abandoned near the front porch.
As for Smith, he was a strapping guy, over six feet tall and with the muscles to match. Alexa’s bio said he was thirty-two, but he looked a decade older. Had the job aged him? Or the kids? He had three now, two boys and a girl.
“Do you remember much about the case?” I asked.
“It was a strange one, all right.”
When I’d swung by the sheriff’s station a half ho
