Maui Magic

by Terry Ambrose

  She picked up the little scanner and aimed it at me. “Freaks the scammers out when they see me scan their money. I’m good at reading reactions, so if there’s anything off, I reject the bill. Tell them it’s suspect. Anyway, Mandy’s dead and at least this way I can recoup my losses.”

  “You’re a regular entrepreneur, aren’t you?”

  “This guy’s, like, buying a necklace for his girlfriend. Can’t help it if we have a little conversation while the deal gets done.”

  Chance fingered the jewelry. Squinted at it. Turned over the tag which was attached with a string. “This says four ninety-five.”

  Penny took the necklace from Chance, ripped the tag off, and handed it back. “Sorry about that, dude. It’s two-fifty-four ninety-five. Two eighty with tax. You want it or not?”

  I nodded at Chance. Already the price had gone up and we had no other leads. “We need Mandy’s real name.”

  He reached for his wallet, pulled out three crisp hundred-dollar bills and handed them to Penny. She quickly scanned the bills. Her dark-rimmed eyes lit up. “Good job. They’re real. Oh, sorry, I’m all out of change. But her real name was Teddie Lawler. And since you’re being generous, I’ll give you a little bonus. She was from San Bernardino.”

  The family of four took one last look at the ocean, piled into their small SUV, and left. Penny lifted her chin in the direction of the car driving away. “Told you so, dude.”

  18

  It was pushing eleven o’clock and Penny was in the midst of negotiations with her umpteenth customer when we finally gave in to the inevitable. Our business was done with our new identity-thief friend. Not that she’d been terribly friendly. I mean, she had remained cordial, but offered very little after giving up Mandy Kenoi’s real name.

  Honestly, after nearly an hour of playing cat-and-mouse in between her sales transactions, I was fed up and wanted nothing to do with her. We piled into the Escalade, Chance fired up the engine, and then asked where we should go.

  “We’re chasing our tails if we return to Lāhainā,” I said. “The meeting is at two, which means we have three hours to kill. But, it’s a half hour drive back at best, then an hour and a half to the Pony Club. We’d be better off taking a leisurely drive and having lunch.”

  Chance didn’t respond, but made the right turn and headed to Kahului, all the time staring glumly at the road through the windshield. It hadn’t escaped me that his spirits had been flagging since he’d dropped three hundred bucks to get Mandy’s real name.

  “You had to pay her, babe,” Lexie said. “Besides, now we know she’s really Teddie Lawler.”

  “I agree.” I wanted to be consoling and Chance certainly deserved an A for effort. “Look, I’d be sick if I’d just shelled out that much money…” I let the words die in my throat because what I had almost said would not have made the situation better. I decided it was best to join the support group. “There was no other way.”

  Chance’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “She had us over a barrel, but it’s too bad we couldn’t have gotten more than a name.”

  “We got a location, too,” I said.

  “Do you realize how big San Berdoo is?” Chance slapped the wheel with the palm of his hand. “There’s, like, a million people there.”

  “Now you’re exaggerating—like me.”

  “Okay, okay, so there’s a couple of hundred thousand. That’s still one giant haystack. And there’s all the surrounding areas. What if Penny was just winging it? Maybe she made it up?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we have to.”

  Chance followed the signs to Kahului, which was basically straight ahead. Once there, we could find a place for lunch and then go to the meeting. Around us, brown fields stretched into the distance. Houses dotted the foothills, yet another sign of Maui’s ever-increasing development. The grasses of the valley climbed higher and higher until they blossomed into a green canvas.

  “I need cash, McKenna.”

  “ATM gonna work?”

  He shook his head. “Not at this rate. I have to visit a branch. First Hawaiian Bank.”

  I pulled my phone and began a search for the nearest location. “Wailuku Branch is closest. Straight ahead, then right on Main Street and left on Market.”

  “There’s something wrong with those directions.”

  How would he know? “What? Now you’ve got a compass in your nose?”

  “Nothing so sophisticated. Not enough vowels, McKenna. Sounds like we’re going some place in LA.”

  “Cute. Not funny, but cute. You drive. Leave the jokes to me and don’t bother hurrying. We’ve got a few hours before the meeting.”

  Twenty minutes later we rolled into the bank parking lot. Chance told us he’d be right back and left the engine running.

  “Lexie, is Chance doing okay? He seems kind of down,” I said.

  “No worries, McKenna. Patience is not his strong suit. He’ll be fine.”

  We chitchatted until Chance returned. This time, his attitude was visibly buoyed. “The teller was asking me if we’d been to the Heritage Gardens. Anybody up for a little side trip?”

  It wasn’t a hard sell, and we were soon cruising along a winding road bordered by green mountains soaring into blankets of gray mist. The girls oohed and ahed as clouds drifted between the mountaintops. The peaks disappeared, then returned, in an ever-changing game of peekaboo.

  Further up the road, small buildings resembling cabins appeared on the left. Benni then pointed out an oriental pagoda and told Chance to take the next left. “The gardens are amazing,” she said.

  Lexie rolled down her window and peered around as the Escalade slowly came to a stop in one of the few empty parking spots. “Last time I was here, I was ten.”

  “We have to come back when we’re not so distracted.” Benni leaned toward me, her breath soft on my ear. “It’s a place of magic.”

  “Feels like it.” Solace lurked somewhere in the recesses of my mind. An odd sensation. Fleeting, but present. Benni was right, a sense of calm came over me.

  Chance nodded absently, then craned his neck to survey us all. “How about if we do lunch, then get back to work?”

  He wanted to leave? Definitely not my preference, but I went along with the plan. As we drove away, I gazed at the beauty disappearing behind us. A gentle tug called me back. Peace. So different from what was coming. The gardens disappeared after the next bend in the road, and with it my brief interlude of solace.

  Lunch took longer than expected, but we arrived at The Pony Club with time to spare. The exterior was similar to any other rundown older building in the light of day. It could have been nothing more than a nondescript building, but for the paint job. The base color was a blah tan and helped the business blend into the background. Even the lava rock veneer on the lower half wasn’t so bad, but the place slipped from plain to cheesy thanks to the bright red trim.

  Someone had propped open the front door and the interior atmosphere looked nothing like our previous trip. For starters, no bouncer hit us up for money. Also, the inside lighting was bright, fresh air flowed through the entrance, and out the back. The place looked almost respectable, but definitely cheap.

  Billy was in the corner talking to two men. They had their heads together and spoke in hushed tones. Three other people sat at a grouping of small circular tables in the center of the room.

  Last night, the tables had been distributed around the bar, as though to promote privacy. Today, it appeared they would be used as a meeting space. Two of those attending sat with their backs to us. On the opposite side of the table a young man with sandy hair saw us and nodded. He pushed back his chair and stood. The grinding burp of wood-on-wood must have caught Billy’s attention because he frowned at us as though we’d committed the ultimate no-no and hustled in our direction.

  In my opinion, if h
e didn’t want us talking to the kid, we had all the more reason to do just that. I strode forward, held out my hand, and said, “I’m McKenna. We must be in the right place.”

  The kid’s grip was squishy and moist. “I’m Dixon Service, at your service.” His smile was quick and his eyes sparkled. “If you’re here to talk about Maui water, you sure are.”

  “I see you made it…McKenna, yah?” Billy edged between us. “Thanks, Dixon. I’ll take it from here.”

  Did Billy really think he could keep us from talking to these people? And why were there only six? To my side, I saw Benni’s eyes widen. She pointed to the back door, but there was nothing in the open doorway. She frowned at me. Rats. I’d missed something important.

  To his credit, Chance had latched onto Dixon the moment Billy had pushed him aside. Before they could get beyond introductions, however, Billy backed away and addressed the group.

  “Shall we get this meeting of the Friends of Maui Water started? Everyone take your seats.” Billy sounded almost respectable. He, like many locals, apparently had the ability to drop his pidgin usage at will.

  The two men who had been with Billy came to the table. One of them walked with the swagger of a man used to having his own way. At one end, Billy and his two friends sat together. Dixon was between macho man and the lone female member. Based on where people sat, this was a very unbalanced organization.

  “Who these guys, Billy?” The swagger guy asked.

  Ono Landscaping was stenciled on the front of his long-sleeved, orange T-shirt. With his bronzed skin, it was a safe bet he spent his days in the sun.

  The other man had on standard tropical wear. Aloha shirt, khakis, and sandals. He was clean cut and reminded me of someone in a conservative occupation. I guessed him to be an attorney, an accountant, or something equally boring.

  Billy grimaced as he shot a glance at the landscaper. “We can all do a little face-to-face later, Sherman.”

  The landscaper gazed around the group. “No, brah, we wanna know who we got here.”

  The others nodded, almost in unison.

  “I’m McKenna.” I stood and gestured at Benni. “This is Benni, Lexie, and Chance. I told Billy last night we were investigating the death of Mandy Kenoi.”

  A rumble of concern circled the table. The landscaper and another man muttered to themselves while Dixon and the woman expressed some sort of weak approval.

  The landscaper said, “I got nuttin’ to say about dat—“

  “Don’t you dare say it, Sherman,” said the female member of the group. She continued with barely a breath. “You know what the Lord says, if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

  Sherman shrugged. “Den I bettah keep my mouth shut. Sorry if I offended, Sherri.”

  Funny, he didn’t look sorry. He had a giant smirk on his face. Sherri glared at him, but the exchange ended there.

  Billy rapped twice on the table with his knuckles. “Okay, let’s get down to business.” He stood, leaning forward in the classic power pose.

  Behind me, I heard a high-pitched, pleading woman’s voice. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was Yoshiko.

  “Soba, please. Do not go inside.”

  I turned and looked over my shoulder. Every muscle in my body tensed. It was Mrs. Nakamura. There was no need to wonder what she was doing here. She had on a determined frown and fire in her eyes. She zeroed in on Billy with laser-like focus and marched directly to him. They were less than two feet apart.

  “You are Billy?” Mrs. Nakamura asked.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet shoulder width apart. “That’s me.”

  “I am he, young man. Take your seat.”

  Billy opened his mouth, but the old woman wagged a bony finger in his face.

  “Do not sass me, young man. Sit.” She pushed her face close to his and held his gaze for a full count of ten before she barked, “Now.”

  19

  Billy’s jaw opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. Even I was taken aback by Mrs. Nakamura’s intensity. The landscaper guy, Sherman, snickered. The noise seemed to really irritate Billy, who swallowed hard and took his seat.

  Sherman and the man he’d been huddling with before exchanged a sly smile. I bit my tongue as Mrs. Nakamura turned on them next. She glared at Sherman, who was the roughest-looking person in the room. “What are you laughing at, young man?”

  Sherman’s jaw dropped. A moment later, he muttered, “Nuh…nothing, Auntie.”

  “You will call me Mrs. Nakamura.” She shoved her face close to Sherman’s. “Do you understand this?”

  “Yes…yes, Aunt…Mrs. Nakamura.”

  Next to me, Benni raised her hand. “Is Yoshiko outside, Auntie?”

  The old lady’s frown cracked into a warm smile. “Yes, child. Would you please bring her in? She was reluctant to enter.”

  Benni nodded. “Of course, Auntie.” She hurried off to the front entrance.

  I stood, which drew Mrs. Nakamura’s attention. Even though the old woman still stood, she was forced to look up at me. I licked my lips in fear. What had I done?

  “Where do you think you are going, Mr. McKenna?”

  “Um, I was getting a chair for your granddaughter...Mrs. Nakamura.” How had I landed in the same category as Billy and Sherman? We were nothing alike. Nothing.

  The diminutive old schoolteacher gave me a curt nod. There might have even been the hint of a smile. “You may do so.” She gazed around the table. “We must first introduce ourselves. You will each tell me your name, your occupation, and why you are here. You may begin.” She pointed a bony finger at the lone woman in the group, Sherri.

  Sherri’s hand went to her throat and her color faded.

  “Do not be afraid, child. What is your name?”

  “Sherri. Sherri Goddard.” She glanced at the others, then Mrs. Nakamura, before continuing. “I’m a beautician. I’m concerned about pollution in our water.”

  Mrs. Nakamura clapped her hands together twice. “Splendid.” She surveyed the others, then let her gaze fall on the beautician. “You have done well, Sherri. The others must live up to your example.” She pointed at Dixon while Benni and I seated Yoshiko.

  I thought poor Dixon might wet his pants, but he stammered his name and explained he was a grocery store clerk. Mrs. Nakamura seemed pleased he was interested in causes to help the ‘aina—until he made the mistake of telling her he belonged to eight similar groups.

  “Ah, you have good intentions, Dixon.” The lines around Mrs. Nakamura’s eyes crinkled into a twisty roadmap of experience. “You will help the land most by participating less and doing more.”

  “I…I’m trying to cut back, Mrs. Nakamura. I used to be in eleven groups.”

  “Perhaps you could better manage six such memberships?”

  Dixon swallowed hard. “Yes, yes, I could do that.”

  Billy’s other pal shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I don’t know that we need to waste all this time, I think…”

  The interruption earned the man an icy stare. Like a wizened little ninja, the old lady inched closer, one menacing footstep after the other. With each slap of her sandal on the bottom of her foot, the man’s attitude faded. He sat up straight in an effort to bring himself to eye-level, but was white as a sheet by the time she stood next to him.

  “Did you not learn to respect your elders, young man?”

  “We…we…have a purpose for being here.”

  Before he could say another word, Mrs. Nakamura cut him off. “Then perhaps you would like to share your purpose in this endeavor.”

  “My name is Conroy Edwards…ma’am…accountant. I want to see the Four Great Rivers opened up.”

  I glanced at Sherri, then back at Conroy. She wanted pollution stopped, he was part of the mau
ka-to-makai movement. And Dixon, he was all over the map. Why were these people here? These were very different causes. The only common thread was the water. Maui’s water. Its lifeblood.

  By the time we’d finished with the remaining participants, all resistance had evaporated. Even TJ Wong, a hardware store owner and the eldest of the group, expressed no will to argue with Mrs. Nakamura. I couldn’t believe how easily she’d swooped in and conquered.

  Benni, Chance, Lexie, and I also introduced ourselves. For some reason, Mrs. Nakamura had saved me for last. Don’t think I didn’t have sweat rolling down my neck. I had no idea whether the old bag would skewer and roast me alive or let me off easy. To my surprise, it was the latter. When I finished, she winked at me. At least, I think she did. It could have been a hallucination.

  Mrs. Nakamura nodded as she looked around the table. “I am pleased with your behavior. You have come along quickly. Now we must handle the prickly question.”

  Everyone’s eyes widened, and she held each person’s gaze for a couple of seconds. What was she going to pull next?

  She paused for the longest time, then sighed. “Which of you killed Mandy Kenoi?”

  The room exploded into a rash of outrage, shock, and good old expletives. Billy stood and faced off against his much smaller adversary, but she held her ground.

  Chance rose and inserted himself between them. I took up a position at her side and grasped her arm. Chance didn’t say a word, but thrust a hand in front of Billy’s face. The bartender must have gotten the message. Make a move and you’ll regret it.

  I whispered into the old woman’s ear. “I can’t tell you how much respect I have for you in the way you took control, but it’s too early for a question like that.”

  She leaned close, and she patted my shoulder. “I know, Mr. McKenna, but you did need your opening. And I see you are up to the task. Once again, you impress me.” She bowed.

  Benni and Yoshiko came to our sides.