She had an answer for everything, so he went for the jugular. “Tell me about the one-point-one-million-dollar change order.”
She looked at him quizzically. “What change order?”
He concealed his surprise. She’d signed the change order, so he hadn’t expected her answer. “The change order for one-point-one million in environmental improvements.”
“That’s news to me.”
He pulled the document from the folder he’d brought with him and slid it across the table to her. She stared at the document for a long, long time. “Where did you get this?”
“That doesn’t matter. It bears your signature. What basis did you have to sign it?”
She picked it up to examine the signature. “I didn’t. My office uses Signoscript machines. This looks like a machine signature. Joanie had signing authority.”
“You’re telling me you didn’t authorize this change order?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Did you know about the change order?”
“No.”
“Is that the KonaWili file?” He pointed to a thick folder on her desk.
“Yes.” She pushed the documents toward him. He leafed through the file without finding the change order. “The basic contract is here, but no change order.”
“Like I said, I knew nothing about any change order.”
“The change order is for environmental improvements. What environmental improvements would have been needed at KonaWili?”
“None, so far as I know.”
“Did anyone ever tell you there was a volcanic vent under that school?”
“No.”
“Would you be surprised to learn that the contractor knew about the vent and filled it with concrete?”
“It would shock the hell out of me.”
The interview was turning out to be a bust. He’d learned Makela had offered Na‘auao’s husband an interest in the development, but not much else. He needed to interview Joanie Pupuka. “I’d like to talk to Ms. Pupuka.”
“Good luck. She died in a car crash three months ago.”
Shit. He’d run up against a wall. Well, almost. He had one further avenue to pursue.
Koa left Francine Na‘auao’s office and walked several blocks past the capitol into Honolulu’s Chinatown. He stopped in the mouth of an alley, checking to make sure he hadn’t been followed, before ducking down the alley and around a corner to a small Thai curry house. It was far enough from the DOE headquarters so he, and more importantly, his luncheon guest, wouldn’t be observed by the wrong people. Inside, the rich smell of southeast Asian spices assaulted him. He made his way past the lunch crowd to a booth in the back corner, screened from the main part of the eatery.
“Aloha, Koa,” Christina Waters greeted him. In her late-thirties with blond hair, blue eyes, and a cherubic face, she wore a conservative light blue dress. He studied the pale smooth skin of her face. His fingers and lips had once touched every facet of that face.
“Aloha,” he replied, sliding into the booth opposite her.
“You’re looking good,” she said with a genuine smile.
“You, too, Christina.” They’d been an item years ago but parted friends when she’d left the Big Island for a state-level job. His current girlfriend, Nālani, wouldn’t be thrilled he was with an old flame, but he had good reason, and Nālani didn’t need to know.
Her face darkened. “Such a tragedy at KonaWili.”
“Unimaginable, Christina. I never thought I’d see anything like it.”
“I hear you risked your life to save some of those kids.”
“Yeah, well, we didn’t save enough. Fourteen kids and four teachers died. And all because of a conspiracy among reckless people.”
“You’ve got a mess with the investigation.”
“Yeah, and Na‘auao didn’t help.”
“Your meeting with he‘e didn’t go so well?”
“The octopus? Is that what you call her?” Koa asked.
“Only behind her back. She’s smart as hell and her tentacles reach everywhere.”
“Funny, because she laid the fault off on Joanie Pupuka and the Hilo planning office.”
Christina frowned. “Poor Joanie. A terrible accident. Reminds me how fragile life is.” She pushed a menu across the table to him. “Order us some curry like old times, and then I’ll tell you about life in the DOE.”
He ordered soft shrimp spring rolls, octopus with red chilies, chicken say-ta, fish cakes, and green curry with beef. His memory of Christina’s favorites surprised him.
“I can’t believe she laid it off on Joanie.”
“Why?” he asked.
“You have to understand that Na‘auao controls everything in the department with an iron fist. That’s how she’s maintained control for so long.”
“You’re saying, it’s unlikely Joanie signed a change order without Na‘auao’s knowledge?”
“Flat out impossible. Joanie didn’t order paperclips without Na‘auao’s blessing. Let me show you something.” She pulled a thick sheaf of papers from her bag. “This is the DOE capital budget for the fiscal year when we built KonaWili. These things are guarded like the crown jewels.” She flipped to a page flagged with a sticky. “Here’s the breakdown on KonaWili.”
Koa scanned several pages. They showed an extensive breakdown of the acquisition and construction costs for the school building. Following the various categories for the initial contract, a separate breakdown categorized the change order—additional grading, reinforcing rods, concrete, sealants, etcetera.
“That’s Na‘auao’s bible,” Christina said. “She goes over the updated version of that document four times a year. The review takes a full week. She makes her subordinates justify every single line item, and she often revises authorizations or dumps whole projects. There’s no way a one-point-one-million-dollar change order escaped her attention. No way.”
Koa looked back at the breakdown for the change order. The largest entry read “miscellaneous” and accounted for $600,000. Looking back up at Christina, he asked, “Any idea what’s buried in miscellaneous?”
“I saw that entry. It’s weird. Look through the rest of the capital budget; you won’t find many miscellaneous entries and none even a fraction so large. Na‘auao hates undefined categories. She’d burn my ass if I’d put something like that in the budget.”
Koa nodded. He had already guessed the six-hundred-thousand-dollar entry hid bribes or other shady payments.
“Can I keep this document?”
“Yes. But you didn’t get it from me. If she found out I gave you that document, I’d be persona non grata throughout the Hawaiian government.”
“She’s that powerful?”
“You have no idea.”
“You said Na‘auao controls everything in the department with an iron fist. Does that alone explain why she’s run the department for so many years?”
Christina looked at him for a long time. He sensed her indecision before she finally said, “I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff.”