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Theresa Cachuela called 911 at least three times in the weeks before she was killed by her husband in a Central Oʻahu mall parking garage.

In one call after midnight on Dec. 10, 2023, the 33-year-old screamed and told the Honolulu Police Department dispatcher her husband was chasing her in his car on Kapolei Parkway in Ewa Beach.

Cachuela later told the dispatcher she saw officers at a nearby roadblock — on Geiger Road and Kamakana Street — and would pull over to ask for assistance.

In the 911 calls, obtained by Civil Beat last week through a public records request, a man says, “Miss, tell me what’s going on,” before Cachuela replies, “My husband was chasing me,” her voice rising in panic.

“I have a TRO against him,” she says, using the acronym for temporary restraining order, before the call ended.

Cachuela’s mother, Lucita Ani-Nihoa, has kept most of this to herself for a year while she grieved. Last week she was ready. In an interview with Civil Beat, she said her daughter told her the officers at the roadblock responded to her plea for help by telling her to go home.

Pushing For Change

It was one of many times Ani-Nihoa says the system failed her daughter as she sought help getting away from her husband, Jason Cachuela, before and then himself on Dec. 22 last year at Pearlridge Center in ʻAiea.

“She was ignored by who we thought would protect her,” Ani-Nihoa said. “She couldn’t even move forward because she was discouraged at every corner that she tried.”

Honolulu police spokeswoman Michelle Yu said officers responded to all of Cachuela’s 911 calls and met with her at least once.

Yu would not say what action they took, including at the roadblock. A police report on the murder investigation is expected to be finalized next month.

Attorney Michael Green, who represented Jason Cachuela, said he was surprised by the shooting because he didn’t think his client would act out violently. He described a court hearing Jason and Theresa attended two days before the shooting as “amicable.”

Ani-Nihoa is now pushing for change in her daughter’s honor. 

She’s helping local politicians draft legislation to step up penalties for violating temporary restraining orders with increased fines, minimum sentences and court-ordered counseling after a first-time violation.

She’s also advocating for more funding and other support for survivors struggling to leave their abusers.

The abuse Theresa suffered at the hands of her husband wasn’t physical but psychological, her mother and friends said. The man she had been with for 11 years and with whom she shared a daughter, now 9, tried to exert power and control over every aspect of her life.

Theresa was a skilled beautician and social media influencer who briefly ran a beauty salon, House of Glam, in Waipahu with her best friend, Mae Nani Knight. She also sold her own line of false eyelashes, Luxxe Lashes. 

Jason, though, was the main source of financial support for her and her three children. Knight told Civil Beat that he provided a lavish lifestyle and urged Theresa to stop pursuing her own ventures.

Their relationship soured when Theresa discovered her husband had been cheating on her, Knight said.

At the end of April 2023, she moved out of the Waipahu home they shared with his mother and into a unit about 8 miles away in Ewa Beach , a nonprofit that helps vulnerable families.

Still, Ani-Nihoa said Theresa struggled to become financially independent.

Theresa was discouraged from applying for state financial assistance by employees at the Department of Human Services, her mother said. She also had a hard time finding a therapist, waiting months for an appointment only for the therapist to say he couldn’t help her.

“It deterred her from trying to move forward,” Ani-Nihoa said.

Jason later moved in with Theresa in Ewa Beach but, by November 2023, she had decided she wanted him out for good, her mother said. He responded with increasingly threatening behavior.

‘I Think He Has A Gun’

The 911 calls offer frightening details of what happened next, details Ani-Nihoa hopes will help her hold police accountable for what she sees as a lack of action.

Just before 1 a.m. last Dec. 8, Theresa called 911 to say her husband was threatening to kill himself in her garage. The dispatcher told her officers were on the way, then hung up.

She called 911 again about five hours later, saying he was hiding under the car in her garage. She told the dispatcher she didn’t know if he had any weapons, but she was afraid of what might happen if he managed to get inside the house. The dispatcher told her three officers were on the way.

Later that day, Theresa applied for a temporary restraining order. She wrote on her application that her husband had been threatening to kill himself in front of her and her children, and held a knife to his own neck.

“I am doing this to protect myself, my children and to hopefully get him the help he needs,” she wrote. 

She added that he owned guns. 

A judge granted the TRO that day, prohibiting Jason from getting within 100 feet of Theresa or 100 yards of her home. The TRO also barred him from possessing firearms. 

But late the next night, friends called 911 from her driveway to say Jason was chasing Theresa in a gray Toyota Tacoma as she tried to flee in her black Chevrolet Traverse. One of the callers told the dispatcher Jason might have a gun.

Hours later, Theresa made her own frantic call to 911 about the car chase. 

“Oh my God, I think he has a gun,” she said. “Oh my God. What do I do? What do I do?” 

The call ended when she pulled over to speak to the officers at the roadblock.

Her friends and family believe those officers should have arrested Jason for chasing her, or at least helped her get somewhere safe.

“Theresa had expressed to officers many times, ‘He’s going to kill me,’” Knight said. “Going home doesn’t solve anything. They failed to protect her.”

Honolulu police served Jason with the temporary restraining order on Dec. 11, 2023, and confiscated his five registered firearms, police said at the time.

Was Court Hearing The Catalyst?

At a court hearing on Dec. 20, Theresa and Jason discussed the TRO and agreed to a one-year order for protection, which prohibited Jason from contacting or getting within 100 feet of Theresa. The judge also ruled that Jason could have contact with the couple’s daughter by phone and see her on alternating weekends. 

Two days after the hearing, Ani-Nihoa was waiting for her daughter at a cafe near Pearlridge Center in ʻAiea, where they were meeting for breakfast. Theresa was going to bring her then-8-year-old daughter and Ani-Nihoa was there with another one of her grandchildren.

Shortly before their meeting time, Ani-Nihoa heard emergency sirens and chatter about a lockdown at Pearlridge. She didn’t think it had anything to do with her daughter.

“I didn’t feel that in my heart,” she said. “I didn’t feel anything was going to happen.”

About 10 minutes later, her niece called to tell her Theresa had been involved in a shooting.

In shock, she ran to find police officers at the Pearlridge parking garage but she didn’t want to get too close to the scene or panic because she had her granddaughter with her. She was also worried about Theresa’s daughter.

She showed the officers on scene her ID and they brought Theresa’s daughter to her. Ani-Nihoa and her two granddaughters started praying.

“We all sat down and I was still contemplating what just happened,” she said.

Now, a year later, unanswered questions linger. Why did Jason follow Theresa to the mall that day? Why couldn’t police have arrested him sooner? How did he get the gun he used to shoot her?

Yu wrote in an email that information about the firearm Jason used would not be released until the police report is completed.

Increasing Penalties For Violators

Ani-Nihoa said she decided to advocate for reforms after hearing Theresa’s voice tell her to turn her pain into action.

“Mommy, get up. Stop crying,” she said she heard her daughter say. “And that’s what made me stand up and do what I do now.”

She is working with Rep. Darius Kila, who represents parts of West Oahu where she lives, on a bill for the upcoming session that would increase the penalties for violating a temporary restraining order.

The draft measure would increase the mandatory minimum jail sentence for a person convicted of a first-time violation from 48 hours to 15 days and double the minimum fine to $300. Conviction for a second-time violation would carry a minimum jail sentence of 45 days and a fine of $500-$1,000, rather than the current penalty of 30 days and $250.

In addition, TRO violators would have to get an assessment from a domestic violence program and complete an anger management course.

Kila said Theresa’s family wanted even stronger changes, such as court-ordered tracking for those served with restraining orders. But domestic violence advocates said such a proposal would be met with legal challenges and raise privacy concerns.

Green, Jason’s attorney — who specializes in criminal defense and personal injury cases — said the sheer number of restraining orders filed each year would make tracking every person prohibitively expensive.  

Last year, more than 4,700 domestic abuse protective orders, often issued after a TRO, were filed in family courts statewide, according to the Hawaii State Judiciary.

Monique Ibarra, chief executive officer of , said the increased penalties and mandated assessments proposed in Kila’s bill would help keep survivors safe. But she would also like more training for police officers on how to recognize when someone is in danger.

Lack of affordable housing is one of the main barriers to domestic violence survivors seeking safety, according to the . Twenty-two percent of people experiencing homelessness on Oʻahu this year were domestic violence survivors, up from 13% in 2020, according to the annual point-in-time count mandated by the Department of Housing and Urban Development.

Family Promise is planning next year to expand by 50% its program that provides rental assistance and case management to homeless families fleeing domestic violence, according to executive director Ryan Catalani.

‘Resources Failed Her’ 

As a light rain fell over Mililani Memorial Park and Mortuary last week, Ani-Nihoa tended to red and gold flowers in front of her daughter’s grave as Knight placed a fresh bouquet of white lisianthus flowers and chrysanthemums. 

Ani-Nihoa said she still talks to her daughter, telling her she’s sorry she couldn’t do more to protect her. Sometimes she also visits Jason’s grave, just yards away from Theresa’s, to yell at him and ask why.

She gets upset when people blame victims of domestic violence or ask questions like, “Why didn’t she leave sooner?” The focus needs to be on what more public officials and service providers can do to help people live independently from their abusers, she said.

She’s circulating a to generate support for Kila’s draft bill. She speaks at domestic violence awareness events and is hosting a candlelight vigil for survivors at Nanakuli Beach Park on Sunday, the anniversary of her daughter’s death.

“We wanted everybody to remember her legacy,” she said. “How she was there for so many people. How she fought for her own life. How the resources failed her.” 

Civil Beat’s community health coverage is supported by , Swayne Family Fund of �Ჹ�ɲ���ʻ�� Community Foundation, the Cooke Foundation and .