Maui Magic

by Terry Ambrose

  22

  I wanted nothing more to do with Sherman Li, but a nagging doubt told me our paths would cross again. Why, I couldn’t say. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”

  “Can I go now? I got jobs waiting.” He gazed at me with the same conceited smile he’d worn earlier.

  He swaggered away, wearing his arrogance on his shoulders like a proud French general flaunting his epaulets. Finding something bad on him would make my day, but I wasn’t a vendetta kind of guy. No, a personal grudge would only get in the way of our investigation. It was a mistake to give him power over my emotions. And so intent was I on being disappointed in myself that I hadn’t noticed the person next to me. I jumped at the sound of Conroy Edwards’ voice.

  “I’ve known Sherman for a few years and he’s always gotten any woman he wanted. He can’t stand it.”

  “Stand what?”

  “That Sherri won’t sleep with him. Drives him nuts.”

  Edwards buried his hands in the pockets of his striped shorts. He wore his checkered shirt open at the collar and hadn’t removed his straw fedora once during the entire meeting. His ensemble cried, “I’m hip. This is cool island style.”

  I took a calming breath before diving in with him. “So you’re an accountant, Conroy?”

  “Sure am.” His smile was quick and friendly.

  He didn’t look like any bean counter I’d ever seen. He kept his sparse beard trimmed close and instead of a watch, wore a woven wrist bracelet. “What’s your specialty?”

  Conroy snorted. “Specialties are for the big city. Here, you do a little of everything.” He pulled his phone and glanced at it. “Look, I’ve got an appointment in about a half hour. Can we get this show on the road?”

  “Sure. Why are you a member of this committee?”

  “I ain’t gonna give you a bunch of BS like Sherman did.” He smiled. “Me and Mandy had a thing, and I wanted to be supportive.”

  I stared at him. Shut my eyes. No, no, no. Not another one. What was this? A CIA hangout or something? There was no other way to account for so many liars and people with dark secrets in one place. I breathed slowly while preparing my trap. With luck, it would lead me to the truth about Mandy. “So, uh, how close were you two?”

  He looked down at the chair. Smiled. “Mind if I sit?” He didn’t wait for approval. He sat, no, slouched down with one elbow on the table to prop up his chin. “We were lovers. I was going to call it off pretty soon cause it wasn’t working out.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

  No, I didn’t. I licked my lips. Parked next to Conroy. Mirrored his posture. We were like two bookends—a slight slouch, elbow chin rests, smiles on our faces. Best buds. I flipped him a shaka sign with my free hand. “Happens, right?”

  “Yeah, man. Mandy was fun for a while, but the novelty wore off. I’m young and there’s plenty of hot stuff out there.”

  I acknowledged his confession with a cluck of my tongue, a pointed finger, and my own wink. Conroy let his elbow slide off the table and leaned forward. I again mirrored him and kept up the pressure by fixing my gaze on his. “Young guy like you, hey, I get it. So you didn’t care about the cause?”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding? This group’s a joke. I figured that out when I saw what they were trying to do. That Hisao, he had good intentions, but he didn’t have the chops to create a force in the community. But Mandy, now she was hot. Always wore these low-cut tops. She had this burgundy dress—oh man, it showed plenty of skin. I asked her out right then and there. First date, boom. Girl had an appetite.”

  Conroy stretched out his legs in a display of his indifference. There was no doubt about it, he typified smooth and casual. A stark contrast to Sherman Li, and so laid back—who could take him seriously? Given what I’d already learned about Mandy, I had enough rope to let him hang himself. It was time to see how many ways Conroy Edwards was shading the truth.

  “You’re an accountant. Have you reviewed the group’s finances?”

  His smile fell, and he straightened up. A moment later, his casual attitude returned, and he winked at me. “If I’d have done the books, I would have charged them. I don’t do pro bono work.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Since you were so close to Mandy and she was the treasurer, I would have thought you’d have at least done a cursory review. It surprises me you wouldn’t make sure your girlfriend was doing everything by the book.”

  “We were strictly casual,” he said. Pulled out his phone again. He glanced at the screen, then me. “I only have a few minutes to get back to work. We cool?”

  We were anything but cool. “Did Mandy tell you where she came from?” I mimicked Conroy’s earlier posture—showed him an easy smile, leaned forward, and lowered my voice to a whisper. “You know, in those intimate moments afterwards. Did she ever talk about her past?”

  “No. No, man. We never talked much.” His eyes darted from side-to-side. “It was an agreement we had up front. Nothing heavy. Like I said, strictly casual. It was all about the physical side of things.”

  “Right. She was a beautiful woman.”

  “Super hot.” Conroy grinned from ear-to-ear.

  “So you saw her tattoo? The one—well—you know.”

  He paused for a beat, seemed to consider a decision, and took the bait. “Oh yeah, man. Saw it the first night.” He flipped his thumb up. “Right where it counts, dude. Awesome.”

  I watched Conroy’s face for a moment. “You know, Sherri was telling me about it, too.”

  His face blanched. The smile disappeared. All of a sudden, Mr. Cool looked very uncomfortable. “Oh?”

  Gotcha, moron. “She didn’t have a tattoo, Conroy. You’ve been lying about this whole relationship. Why?”

  Conroy wilted under my steely gaze and sat there sweating, eyes closed, head shaking slightly. His voice cracked. “You…you can’t tell anyone about this. I’ve got a rep to maintain.”

  As what? A lying scum like Sherman Li? Oh, of course. Sherman, Conroy, and Billy had been huddled together when we walked in. Three schoolboys who’d been spying on the girls’ locker room. Better not to assume though. “Who? Who are you so concerned about?”

  His gaze jerked in Billy’s direction, then at the door, and his resolve flatlined. “Billy, Sherman.”

  “So you guys have a little agreement. How nice for you. Anyone else in this fraternity?”

  He grimaced. Shook his head. Exactly the response I’d expected. He wouldn’t tell. I scooted my chair closer. “I don’t believe you.”

  Conroy tried to back away, but he had nowhere to go. He bit his lower lip and stammered, “He’ll…he’ll hurt me. The guy’s not really a friend.”

  “A girl is dead, Conroy. Your little secret men’s club is about to go public. Don’t be a sap. Who’s behind this?”

  The island-cool attitude had been replaced by that of a man whose life was falling apart.

  “Give me a name,” I said.

  “Cap Myers.”

  “Who’s he? Where can I find him?”

  “Some guy that comes in here. Shows up whenever it suits him, but he doesn’t—you can’t find him. He’ll find you—if he wants.”

  “This is a small island, Conroy. How do you not have a way to contact one of your friends?”

  “I’m telling you, he’s not a friend. Guy’s mean. He stays in touch with Billy. I heard he—does stuff—for people. That’s all I can tell you. Please, let me go.”

  “No. What ‘stuff’ does he do? And for what people?”

  “I said more than I should. Please, Billy’s watching.”

  “Tell me what you know about Mandy Kenoi. After that, you’re free to leave.”

  “Nothing, man. I knew nothing about her. That’s the truth. She wouldn’t give me the time of day. Like you said, I even offered to help her with the finances. I though
t maybe if I did her a favor, she would like me more, but she told me to…to leave her alone.”

  “Why did you lie about sleeping with her?”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. We were hanging out one night…I drank a little too much, and the guys started bragging about women. I made up some story about a smoking hot chick. Kept her nameless. I figured it wouldn’t make me such a dweeb. Then Billy and Sherman kept pushing me. You know—what did she look like? Had we—done it? It was stupid, but I felt trapped and kinda described Mandy. Next thing I know, the guys bought me another round. They kept wanting more details, so I told them her name and they practically had a coronary. They stopped hassling me, but ever since, I’ve been living with the lie.”

  “Is that why Sherman Li is so intent on bedding Sherri? He wants bragging rights?

  Conroy closed his eyes and nodded.

  “But, unlike you, he won’t brag unless he does get her in bed. You guys are a piece of work. Do you think Mandy heard about this?”

  “I’m not sure. She could be pushy. So if she did find out about it, I’m sure she would’ve confronted me. She was direct.” He watched the floor as if hoping to find his confidence in the wood flooring. “This isn’t like me. I’m a good guy. Billy and Sherman—I’m so stupid—they reeled me one step at a time.”

  “Yeah, well now you get to live with that. One last question before I let you go. “Was this Cap Myers there during your bragging session about Mandy?”

  Conroy thought for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yeah. For a while, but when her name came out, he got really disgusted and went to his regular table. Guy wouldn’t talk to me after that.”

  “He uses the same table all the time?”

  “That one. He always sits there when he comes in.”

  It felt like a spider had just crawled across the back of my neck. He was pointing at where the creepy guy sat last night. The same one who had been eying Benni.

  I tried to brush away the sensation, but couldn’t. Who was Cap Myers anyway?

  23

  Dixon Service was the youngest Friends of Maui Water member. For this little alumni group, he was the one I’d vote “Least Likely to Kill.”

  Mrs. Nakamura had given Dixon his marching orders—cut down on your causes to be more effective. She’d seen the same lack of focus I had. He was like a hummingbird, flitting from one cause to the next, never staying with one for long.

  The difference between me and Mrs. Nakamura was she’d spent her life teaching children. You might say she was used to taming hummingbirds like Dixon. I didn’t have time for such nonsense. How was I going to extract clarity and judgement—unbiased and detailed information—out of someone with that attention span?

  With Dixon on his way to see me, Chance was alone with Billy. The others had abandoned the Pony Club the moment their interviews were completed. With us down to just two, I could work Dixon while Chance poked holes in Billy’s story. When we compared notes later, maybe we’d find the inconsistencies and lies I expected to find.

  Dixon’s gait pegged him as more true surfer than land shark. He exuded laid-back style from every pore. He slouched forward and raised his chin in greeting. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” I indicated he should sit in the chair opposite mine. “I just have a few questions for you.”

  “Sure, dude. I mean, sir.”

  “Chillax, Dixon.”

  I’d seen the symptoms he exhibited many times in my skip-tracing days. His lower lip was serving as a workout cushion for his teeth. He blinked multiple times every couple of seconds. He was clearly on edge and the last thing I wanted to do was frighten off my little hummingbird.

  “Thanks for sticking around,” I said. “You don’t need to worry about formalities with me. Not like Mrs. Nakamura.”

  His T-shirt clung to his skin and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow. He licked his lips, then gulped in a deep breath. “She’s intense, dude. Reminds me of a schoolteacher.”

  “Fourth grade.” I smiled, determined to keep this friendly. Casual. At least for now. It was time for McKenna’s First Skip Tracing Secret, “Be flexible and go with the flow.” Which meant adopting a laid-back persona, something to help the kid relax. “They never lose their touch. So, what can you tell me about Mandy Kenoi?”

  His grimace and shrug said it all. Zero.

  “Not much, dude. Chick was way out of my league. I overheard Conroy bragging about hooking up with her, but I don’t believe it. Mandy came into the store all the time. She was always alone, but she was buying food for two.”

  “How’d you figure that out?”

  “Easy, man, you see people week after week, you get, like, familiar what they’re gonna buy. Plus, sometimes she had me split the order. Two bills. And she, like, kept the money separate, too. That gets the people at the back of the line worked up. But, Mandy was cool about it. She never held things up when we were getting crushed.”

  This kid was a grocery store clerk in paradise with one of those bouncing knee habits. Young and innocent. His “out of my league” comment reinforced my impression. He was not killer material. But, I had to wonder just how much he was forcing the “I’m cool” vibe.

  A breeze drifted through the front door. The ceiling fans whirred in silence. There was nothing to make Dixon sweat, but occasional drops of perspiration beaded on his forehead and tracked down his temple. Anxiety was getting the better of him and I wondered if he might be a nervous talker. I bit my tongue to see if he’d add anything to his story. To my surprise, he didn’t.

  When he didn’t get the pregnant-pause-means-you-talk message, I gave up on the old trick. “And you don’t think she bought the second set of groceries for Conroy?” I asked. “Maybe to share? Intimate dinner, that sort of thing.”

  “No way. About the only thing they both bought was orange juice. And they used it for totally different things. Mandy was all health conscious. Conroy always told us he used it as a mixer.”

  He draped one arm on the edge of the table and lounged back in his seat before he continued. “I saw him, like, timing his visits for a while. He’d show up and wander the aisles. When Mandy came in, he’d, like, magically appear on her aisle and pull the ‘oh, hi’ routine. She’d totally blow him off. Dude was oblivious, but he must’ve gotten tired of it cause he finally stopped.”

  Raised voices behind me caught my attention. It could only be Chance and Billy. Dixon glanced in their direction, but I snapped my fingers and drew him back to our conversation. “Don’t worry about them. What about the finances for this group? I’ve heard someone drained them.”

  “Serious? Isn’t that, like, a felony or something?”

  “Depends on how much money we’re talking about. So you didn’t know about it?”

  “No, man. I’ve been donating all along. Wow. The old lady was right about me being spread way too thin. I’m like, so out of here.”

  He started to rise, but before he could stand I gestured at him to remain seated. “After you answer a few more questions. Then you can leave.”

  Dixon shrugged, settled back, and smiled. “You’re cool, dude. I didn’t realize we had more to do. What do you want?”

  “Are you seeing someone?”

  He cocked his head to the side and grimaced. “Why?”

  “Call me curious.” I smiled. “A good-looking guy like you must have at least one girlfriend. Right?” I held his gaze long enough for him to realize the question wasn’t going away.

  “There’s this girl, we kinda hang out. Nothing serious…not yet, anyway.”

  “You didn’t really think Mandy was out of your league, did you? You had to be interested in her. Yah?”

  He hesitated, then sighed. “Too old, man. Maybe if she’d, like, been younger, yah? She was good looking, but we didn’t have stuff in common. Besides, my boss fired my friend for asking one o
f the customers out. It was totally bogus.”

  “Because…”

  “He should’ve gotten a warning or something.”

  “You’re right. Sounds bogus to me, too. So, your coworker said he hadn’t received any kind of warning or reprimand?”

  “No, man. Wait, you think he got one and kept it under cover?”

  Perfect. He’d given me an opening to steer this conversation back where I wanted. “It’s a possibility. Those kinds of things are usually private. What would you do if you did something wrong and received a warning?”

  The way his brow furrowed, it looked like he was running his grocery-store logic on overdrive. His eyebrows went up suddenly and he nodded. “I suppose I’d, like keep it super quiet. Anyway, I’m there to do my job, man. I keep my private life outside the store.”

  “Gotcha. Good practice.” I mimicked Dixon’s body language, just as I had with Conroy. He’d visibly relaxed now and his breathing had slowed. His eyes no longer darted in three directions at once. Maybe this hummingbird was settling down. “So Mandy always shopped alone?”

  “Yeah—wait. There was one time when she and some goth chick came in together. They got along pretty good. All sorts of laughing and stuff. I kind of thought maybe they were old friends because I’d never seen her friend before.”

  A goth chick? How many of those were there on this island? Penny, for one. I propped my chin on my hand and struggled to reel in my curiosity. I wasn’t about to let Dixon see how interested I was. “Seems da kine unusual.”

  “There’s some of them.” He shrugged, then snickered. “Must get hot in the sun, dude. All that black. This one must’ve dug silver jewelry because she had a bunch of it.”

  Once again, our little placeholder word da kine had come in handy. In this case, I’d meant very unusual and Dixon had interpreted correctly. Even better, he’d let slip a possible clue to the girl’s identity.

  “So what did this goth chick look like?”

  “Usual stuff, dude. Heavy makeup. Black hair. She had on this black windbreaker. Like I said, lot’s of jewelry.”