Maui Magic

by Terry Ambrose

  Chance started to say something, but stopped when Mrs. Nakamura raised a finger. “Please, allow me.”

  He nodded in return, but everyone else sipped their drinks and avoided eye contact.

  “As you noticed when you met him, Hisao is very passionate about opening the Four Rivers. But, there have been difficulties with the project.”

  “His dedication is admirable, Mrs. Nakamura.” Difficulties? What did that mean?

  I would have asked, but Nancy, the perky blonde server, and her assistant, chose that moment to deliver our food. The kids, Chance and Lexie, had burgers and fries. Mrs. Nakamura and Yoshiko got salmon and rice with veggies. Benni’s salad was about the size of a mountain, and my mahi mahi with baked potato looked scrumptious. The table fell silent while we all prepared to dive into our meals. I waited, once again doing my best to suppress what Mrs. Nakamura had called the ants in my pants.

  It didn’t take long. Shortly after Mrs. Nakamura broke off a flaky piece of salmon, she gazed across the table at me. “Hisao’s passion is at the heart of this matter.”

  The way Chance and the others were paying attention, I suspected we were all headed into new territory. I turned to Chance. “How much of this do you know?”

  “All I knew was that Mrs. Nakamura said she needed help. Benni’s the one who got the call.”

  Benni leaned forward with both elbows on the table. “I didn’t ask for details, McKenna. Auntie said she’d explain when we met.”

  Okay then. I was playing Christopher Columbus for all of us. So be it. Yoshiko had lowered her gaze to her plate and toyed with her fish. We probably weren’t at a point where Mrs. Nakamura wanted to discuss the nitty gritty, but we could move a step closer. “Did Hisao do something in a fit of anger? I’m sure we’ve all got little skeletons in our closet, Mrs. Nakamura. I know I do.” Maybe it was simple. He could have chained himself to a tree. Maybe he’d been arrested for impeding a construction project.

  She smiled. “What is the worst you have done in your life, Mr. McKenna?”

  What? She was going to use my words against me? Sneaky. I smiled slyly. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for a full list of my mistakes, Mrs. Nakamura. The restaurant is not open for breakfast, so we should not delve into my past. How strong is Hisao’s passion?”

  “Well, done, Mr. McKenna. You are not deterred easily.”

  The mahi mahi I’d ordered was moist, not dry. Flaky, just the way I liked it. Mrs. Nakamura had been testing me, just as I’d tested the fish. Well, two could play the game. I looked straight at her. “Has he committed a crime of some sort?”

  Yoshiko stiffened. “My husband is an honorable man. He would not break the law.”

  “My apologies. I meant no offense.” Okay, too far, too soon. Maybe the cops weren’t involved after all.

  Mrs. Nakamura gestured at Yoshiko with her hand flat. She had her fingers splayed as though telling her to settle down. “This is a delicate matter, child.”

  Yoshiko nodded at her grandmother. “It is I who must apologize, Mr. McKenna.”

  At that moment, I wanted to ask what Hisao could possibly have done, but it would be impertinent to break the ritual. I had to be patient. Gazing into Yoshiko’s eyes, I saw fear. Even panic. In my most soothing tone, I said, “None is needed. But, thank you. How is everyone’s food?”

  Call it perfect timing. Everyone was chewing. The reactions ranged from thumbs up to nods. Quiet and the social order had been restored. I glanced at Mrs. Nakamura. She seemed satisfied. It was time to move forward.

  Chance swallowed the last of the bite he’d been working on and looked ready to burst. I used the same hand signal as Mrs. Nakamura to keep him in line. This was turning into something akin to a deliberation between nations. Kind of fun for the main players, not so much for those who had to wait for results.

  The lines on Mrs. Nakamura’s face spoke of tragedy she’d seen during her life, but another emotion had surfaced during this dinner. Something recent. It was strong enough to evoke tears. What could have happened during the past few hours?

  An affair? Or worse, was Hisao still alive?

  As calmly as I could, I asked, “Why is this matter so delicate, Mrs. Nakamura?”

  “Is it not always the same for men?” Her smile was weak. “It was a woman by the name of Mandy Kenoi. She worked with Hisao. According to the police…quite closely.”

  Worked? As in, she no longer did? My throat went dry, and a knot formed in my stomach. I let my gaze flick to Yoshiko for a fraction of a second. She was staring absently at the condiments. My heart went out to her. How to say the next words?

  I couldn’t. Not yet. “This woman was his assistant?”

  Yoshiko’s attention shifted from the ketchup bottle to my face. “Yes, she was.”

  It must have taken a lot for her to make the admission. I took a measured breath to allow Yoshiko some emotional space. “And this woman is the reason for the problem?”

  “Again you are correct, Mr. McKenna,” Mrs. Nakamura said.

  I cleared my throat. Had he cheated on his pregnant wife? Dipped his pen in the company ink and gotten fired? “When we met, I was impressed by Hisao’s devotion to Yoshiko.”

  Mrs. Nakamura raised her wine glass, her bony fingers a stark contrast to the delicate stem. She took a slow sip and lowered her glass before she continued. “You must understand the intensity of the emotions in this struggle. It is a political battleground.”

  “All political battles can be intense,” Chance said. “My dad’s been dragged into this kind of thing several times.”

  Were we still talking about a woman? Maybe. Enough politicians had succumbed. Why not Hisao?

  Mrs. Nakamura straightened up in her seat. “Young Chance, I am not sure you fully comprehend how long this battle has raged. The sugar mills and plantations have been a staple of our economy for more than a century. A law permitting foreigners to own land in Hawai‘i was passed in 1848. Prior to that time, the concept of land ownership was unknown.”

  Chance’s eyebrows went up. “Wow.“

  “Your reaction is understandable. You are not from here. Had you been in my class, you would be aware of these things.” Mrs. Nakamura shifted her attention to me. “Enough of history. Mr. McKenna, accusations about Hisao and this Mandy Kenoi have been made.”

  Finally. I breathed a sigh of relief. We’d made it. “By whom?”

  “Colin Alcott.”

  I stopped with my fork in midair and stared at the old woman. Her nostrils flared. Her thin lips pressed together into a firm line. I waited a beat, then asked the critical question. “Are we talking about Congressman Colin Alcott?”

  “I refuse to honor this man with a title he does not deserve.” Mrs. Nakamura’s voice was tight.

  Wow. Double wow. I’d never seen the old woman so angry before.

  “Isn’t this the guy who was under investigation himself for corruption?” Chance asked.

  “He got off,” Benni grumbled. “He’s a slime. He comes from a privileged family. A couple of my cousins live in Upcountry Maui. They had a small house on a rural road with a gorgeous view of the entire valley. His family came in and bought what had once been open land. They erected an eight-foot, volcanic-rock wall around the property. It destroyed the view and the natural flow of air. When all the neighbors complained, Old Man Alcott told them it was his land and he could do what he wanted. He decimated their property values and never removed the wall.”

  Mrs. Nakamura looked sideways at Chance. “The incident of which Benni speaks is but one example of the family’s disregard for the aloha spirit and others. Nevertheless, they have thrived in Maui politics. I am afraid Colin Alcott has his sights set on the Governor’s office.”

  “He’s got enough money and power to get there, too,” I said. “Mrs. Nakamura, surely the accusations are incorrect. Hisao is a wise
man.”

  “Not wise enough,” snapped Yoshiko. “My apologies, Soba, but my husband was taken in by this woman.”

  Mrs. Nakamura sighed. “My granddaughter speaks the truth. Colin Alcott contends Hisao and Mandy Kenoi employed unusual tactics to achieve their goals.”

  “Unusual? Strange word for political tactics. Can you be more specific?” I asked.

  “Blackmail, bribery.”

  Was this a case of the pot calling the kettle black? The Alcott family had certainly seen their share of such accusations. Had they learned to use the tool to their own advantage?

  Chance pursed his lips and shrugged. “There’s nothing unusual about bribery in politics, Auntie.”

  “You are correct, Young Chance. Wise beyond your years. However, these are not methods my grandson believes in.”

  Was that the case? There were a thousand ways to compromise someone’s values if you didn’t care how many laws were broken. Had Hisao succumbed to the temptation of achieving success at any cost? “Mrs. Nakamura, are you saying the police believe Hisao went along with what Mandy Kenoi was doing?”

  She shook her head. “Hisao was resolute. As my granddaughter has said, he believes strongly in this cause and has spent his life fighting to open the Four Rivers. He always felt it was against the law for the plantations to have transformed themselves into water companies.”

  Lexie waved her fork in the air, jabbing it as if to make her point. “My dad said some sort of backroom deal made that possible.”

  “It never set well with my ‘ohana,” Benni said. “When the plantations started going out of business, the locals thought the water would be returned to the people. Instead, it became a new source of revenue.”

  “And Hisao wanted to see all of this stopped,” Mrs. Nakamura said. “That is what he was after. And opening Na Wai ‘Ehā.”

  Lexie nudged Chance. “That’s the Four Great Rivers to you haole boy.” She winked at him and gave him an impish grin.

  “Watch it, island girl, I already got that. Auntie, what about the blackmail charges?”

  “My grandson would never employ or tolerate such a practice.”

  I allowed myself a deep breath. “I apologize for being so persistent, however you have not answered the question. I think we would all agree Hisao doesn’t seem the type to blackmail someone, but right now I must know what the police are alleging. Do they say Hisao used these methods?”

  “Mr. McKenna, Hisao would not break the law. However, he has made many enemies in his fight and there are those who think ill of him.”

  And here I’d thought we’d been making progress. We were right back where we’d started and had simply moved to a new level of obtuse. This was as bad as dealing with Benni’s Great-grandpa Kimu. I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “I’m sorry to be so blunt, Mrs. Nakamura, but I’ve been drinking way too much water and need a break. Before I go however, I’d like to know what exactly Hisao has done. Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like nothing. Why are you so upset?”

  Mrs. Nakamura sat silently while her eyes brimmed with moisture. She blinked and one tear fell down her cheek.

  Yoshiko rested a hand on her grandmother’s arm. “Soba?”

  She whispered hoarsely. “I will do this, child.” Mrs. Nakamura wiped away the evidence of her emotions and took a deep breath.

  Her silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Then, calm seemed to overcome her, and she spoke in a clear and confident voice. “The police do not believe he cooperated, Mr. McKenna. They believe he perpetrated the blackmail. They also allege my grandson murdered this Mandy Kenoi.”

  11

  So many little things suddenly made sense. How Mrs. Nakamura had avoided the subject. Her emotions. Yoshiko’s. Even the dog and cat fit now that I saw the big picture. Warnings. Signs. I’d missed them all and should have known better. Death followed me around these days—like I’d become a disciple of the Grim Reaper.

  I glanced sideways at Benni. “You didn’t know?”

  Benni avoided my gaze at first, then brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen forward. “No,” she croaked. A heartbeat later, she continued. “Auntie needs your help, McKenna. She called while Lexie and I were walking alone on the beach. She only said Hisao was in trouble. It was my idea to avoid telling you ahead of time.”

  Lexie piped up and added, “I agreed with her. It seemed like a good idea…then.”

  Chance smiled at me from across the table. “I’m in, McKenna. Totally in.”

  Of course he was. He’d relish another murder investigation because the kid was becoming addicted to the rush. The hunt, as I’d called it in my skip-tracing days. This development demanded a reconciliation of my plans with reality. Overhead TVs flashed scenes from various sports including basketball, tennis, and golf. There was even an infomercial featuring actors with brilliant white smiles and perfect bodies. Mindless distraction. The TVs were simply a way to clear the clutter in my head.

  Once again, Chance and I would partner up, but I wasn’t the kind of partner he needed. If he intended to become a legitimate PI, he had to work for a real private investigator. Someone licensed by the State of Hawai‘i. That could be a problem. First, Chance didn’t need money. Second, I doubted if he wanted to spend his time on a job search when we were bumping into cases right and left. At this rate, the kid would never find the motivation to go after his license. Maybe someday, he’d wake up, but for now he was having too much fun being an assistant to an amateur.

  I turned away from the chaos of the TVs, servers, and diners. Stared out at the sidewalks, where people of all ages, shapes, and sizes strolled. A car waited for one of the impossible-to-find parking spaces on Hotel Street while impatient drivers squeezed by the obstruction.

  My friends had all schemed and deceived me to help Mrs. Nakamura because they were fond of her. But, Benni was the one who amazed me the most. The moment we met, her devotion to ‘ohana had blown me away. It was one reason I’d fallen for her so fast.

  Why not just face the reality? I couldn’t avoid the brewing storm. No number of distractions could erase the bigger issue. Would I help?

  It would be impolite to delay or refuse. Actually, more than impolite. I had to account for Benni’s feelings toward the old woman. Not accepting the case was out of the question. Besides, I was also drawn to helping solve Mrs. Nakamura’s problem. I wanted this to be a relaxing vacation, but it appeared the universe had other plans. I wasn’t doing this to please Benni or anyone else. No way. I, too, was itching to start the hunt.

  I gazed across the table at Mrs. Nakamura and Yoshiko. So, the die was cast. “Chance and I will look into this for you Mrs. Nakamura. But, you must understand, we can’t make any promises.”

  Mrs. Nakamura acknowledged the acceptance by tilting her head forward. “Thank you, Mr. McKenna. I am willing to compensate you for your time.”

  “You have compensated us enough with your friendship.” I thought it was a sweet line, and it even got me a raised eyebrow. I must have caught her off guard. “Chance and I wouldn’t think of charging you.”

  “I am in your debt.” Mrs. Nakamura bowed again.

  Yoshiko mimicked her grandmother’s actions, yet said nothing. A gentle breeze wafted through the restaurant. On the street below, a man in a blue-and-white aloha shirt stood under a street lamp. The fixture looked like an antique. With its four angled panes of glass, it was reminiscent of a time long gone.

  Those had been simpler days. No doubt, Yoshiko longed for times past. She might never see those days again. Maybe that’s why I had to give her every opportunity to tell her secret. And yet, she remained silent. What was she withholding? I wouldn’t press now, but hoped we might get her away from the old woman later. If that was even possible.

  Chance nodded enthusiastically. “We’re doing this for the ‘ohana.” He signale
d us all with a thumbs up.

  Jeez. Such enthusiasm. Did he realize what was coming? He should. We’d done the dance a few times. Maybe that’s why a healthy dose of pragmatism tempered my optimism. I gazed at Mrs. Nakamura. “Let’s begin with the accusations the congressman is making.”

  “Colin Alcott alleges Hisao approached him with a bribe. This was to ensure his vote in favor of opening Na Wai ‘Ehā.”

  “The Four Rivers? That’s absurd,” I said. “The Alcott family has way more money than Hisao could ever hope to offer him.”

  “The bribe was not monetary in nature, Mr. McKenna.”

  “Then what?”

  “He claims Hisao told him he had incriminating evidence against his political rival.”

  I leaned back in my seat and looked around the restaurant. Two families sat at a nearby table laughing and engaging in lively conversation. One couple had a daughter, the other had two boys. I wondered if the adults ever talked politics. Four voters. Which ones would choose to believe the mud being slung by someone like Colin Alcott? Which ones would see through the smokescreen? And had Hisao become collateral damage in Alcott’s political skirmish? So many questions without answers. I had to go for it.

  “Do you have any idea what this evidence might be?” I looked from Yoshiko to her grandmother, then back.

  Mrs. Nakamura sighed. “I have told you, Mr. McKenna, my grandson would not do such a thing.”

  Yoshiko gave a quick nod. Her cheeks colored ever-so-slightly. Jeez. What a mess. Was Mrs. Nakamura clueless? I contemplated my glass for a moment, glanced over the top at her, and held her gaze. “So you think the girl could be behind this, but was using Hisao’s name.”

  “Good. Now you understand.”

  The old woman was sly, I’d have to give her that. She’d led me where she wanted me to go, but it didn’t change the reality—everything she told me was suspect. Was the old lady as good at avoiding traps as laying them? “Mandy Kenoi worked for Hisao?”