“All right. Tell you what, man. Just promise me you ain’t gonna repeat this to nobody. Okay, brah?” His eyes bounced back-and-forth between Chance’s and mine.
“Why would we burn a source?” I asked. “Right, Chance?”
“Agreed, McKenna. But, Billy, you’re not in a position to dictate terms. I told you how this works. You give me information. I decide how much it’s worth. I think there’s more than you’ve told us. What’s the real story on Hisao and Mandy?”
Billy stuttered. “It’s…it’s like I told you. It was all true. But, he wasn’t the one who figured out Mandy was stealing.”
“Who was it?” Chance asked.
Defeat painted Billy’s face, his shoulders drooped, and he muttered, “Cap Myers. Real bad dude. Comes in here. Sits over there.” He pointed at the table Conroy had indicated earlier.
Cap Myers? Again? Who was this guy, anyway? “Conroy told me about him, too. Where can we find him?”
“You can’t. He’s like, in the wind. The guy shows up, then disappears. He’s the one. Walked right up to Hisao and told him Mandy was stealing.”
“And Hisao didn’t fire her right then because…?”
“I’m telling you, dude, I don’t know. You gotta ask Hisao.”
Chance and I nodded at each other. Good, we were on the same wavelength. I looked at him and raised my hands. “You’re the driver.”
“Next stop, Lāhainā. Ready, McKenna?”
“Let’s go. Hisao has a few questions to answer.”
Billy stood behind the bar with his jaw hanging slack as we left. He called after us just as we reached the door.
“What about my money?”
Chance stopped and fixed Billy with a cold stare. “I’ll be back if your information checks out.” He held the torn bill in the air. “Otherwise, this is garbage.”
26
It was nearly four in the afternoon when we left The Pony Club. The Hawaiian sun still burned hot enough to redden the skin of those with a fair complexion. But, the end of the day was drawing near and with the darkness we’d all be able to stash away our bottles of sunscreen. It also meant Chance and I still had time to meet up with the girls and question Hisao.
We were passing the King Kamehameha Golf Club turnoff when my curiosity got the better of me. “That was a slick trick you pulled on Billy.”
Chance snickered, but kept his eyes on the line of cars ahead of us. “Tearing the money in half?”
“Very smooth. Where’d you learn that one?”
“The script.”
“What script?”
“From the movie I was working on in Hollywood.”
“When you got fired for crashing the studio’s helicopter—that script?”
“Yes, McKenna. Just because I screwed up doesn’t mean I wasn’t serious about my job. If you have to know, I was taking my career very seriously.”
I nodded as the countryside rolled by. Brown rolling fields meandered up to the mountain. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to belittle your dedication.”
“It’s okay. Working with you is way more cool.” He extended his right arm for a quick fist bump.
We settled into a comfortable silence with me enjoying the ride while Chance negotiated the traffic. But, by the time we’d passed through the tunnel after Papawai Point I couldn’t resist asking how he’d come up with the countdown timer. “Chance? Where’d you pick up the idea for the phone?”
“Oh, the timer.” He snickered. “Well, nobody spelled it out, but I kept seeing how Mr. Marlowe put deadlines for everything on his website. You know last day for this. Sign up in the next hour for that.”
“I’m proud of you, kid. You had Billy right where you wanted him.”
Chance smiled to himself, then said, “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”
“We’re going to see Hisao, yah?”
When Chance agreed that was our destination, I called Benni to tell her what had happened. She assured me they wouldn’t make fun of me for wearing Sherri’s ice tea. We drove the last few miles with only occasional chitchat and rolled up to the Fujita residence shortly before five. My shirt and shorts had dried, but the stains made me look like a man who’d lost control of his bodily functions. Talk about embarrassing.
Yoshiko greeted us at the front door. Her long straight hair hung over her bare shoulders and fell to her waist. Maternity meets island-casual sundress would be the best description. We removed our slippahs and followed her to the back lānai, the bottoms of our feet padding against the cool tiles as we walked.
A pair of fans whirred silently overhead. Yoshiko stood to one side smiling. The atmosphere seemed awkward, as though we were unwelcome strangers.
“You have a stunning outdoor living space,” I said.
Tension hung in the air despite the steady, cool breeze from above. After a moment of silence, Hisao stood. He and Chance moved two additional chairs closer to an oversized ottoman which was bordered by a rattan couch and matching chairs. The lānai, much like the rest of the house, appeared to be professionally decorated. Benni and Lexie seated themselves on the couch with Mrs. Nakamura, giving them the appearance of bookends framing a weathered old novel.
Before Yoshiko could dart back inside for refreshments, Hisao took her shoulders and guided her to one of the chairs.
“Sit, you have been working far too hard. What remains to be done?”
Benni and Lexie stood and volunteered to help. As Benni walked by, she winked at me. “She got you good.”
Thank goodness I’d called ahead to warn Benni about the stains. How much razzing would I have taken otherwise? The girls brought out glasses of the drink I didn’t want to see again, fresh ice tea, along with a large plate of pupus to share. I eyed the chicken, fish, and cheese, but was unwilling to eat until Benni assured me that everything was gluten-free.
We dug into the food and sipped our cool drinks while Chance related what we’d learned. When he was done, he dropped the bombshell.
“Hisao, if you knew Mandy had stolen money from the Save Maui Water group, why didn’t you file a police report?”
Silence fell over the group. Hisao shifted uncomfortably while exchanging glances with Yoshiko, but it was Mrs. Nakamura who broke the silence.
“Hisao, it is my fault for having interfered in this matter. You are my granddaughter’s husband and I cannot let you be accused of a crime you did not commit. This is why I asked Mr. McKenna to investigate.”
“Soba, you should have let this be. This is not of concern to outsiders.”
Mrs. Nakamura stiffened. “Do you also consider me an outsider?”
Hisao gazed at her for a moment, then sighed. It appeared he would reply when Yoshiko put a hand on her husband’s arm.
“Hisao? Please. Let Mr. McKenna clear your name. Why do you not fight these charges?”
“It’s rude to ask these questions.” I looked straight at Hisao and continued. “We’ve been invited into your home as friends, but it appears we are overstepping. We want to help. But, to do that, we must have answers.”
I’d never seen Hisao’s dark eyes so intense. He rested his chin on his open palm. Two fingers extended up the side of his face and his little finger curled over his chin. Instead of “The Thinker,” he looked like “The Intimidator.”
“You have no idea what you are doing,” he said.
“I get that a lot, Hisao. But, you know what, I eventually figure out what it is I am dealing with. Just once, I wish someone would make it easy and tell me up front. It would save a bundle of time.”
Mrs. Nakamura leaned forward and wrung her bony hands. “Please, Hisao. Do this for an old woman who wants to see her granddaughter live a happy life.”
He shot a quick glance at Yoshiko, then turned to Mrs. Nakamura. “Then it shall be, Soba. I will discuss the matter this one time. Once you unde
rstand the situation, Mr. McKenna, I am sure you will see I have no other option than paying for my crime.”
Benni nudged Lexie and stood. “Let’s go see what needs to be done in the kitchen, yah?”
Lexie grimaced, but followed suit. “Right. This is a big group.” She snuck a tell-me-later peek at Chance.
He nodded in return, and while Lexie didn’t look happy about being excluded, she followed Benni into the house. When they were both gone, I asked, “Are you confessing to the murder of Mandy Kenoi?”
“You must understand the complete story before I answer your question.” Hisao took a long, slow breath, as though he were measuring his words—and gauging his level of tolerance.
With tears welling in her eyes, Yoshiko stroked her stomach while her lower lip trembled and she watched Hisao’s face. Mrs. Nakamura sat as still as stone, her face stern, but the pain was there. Deep down. It saddened me how she would most likely wait until she was alone to let it out. I doubted if she’d even share with her granddaughter.
Hisao continued, “There are others—those far more powerful than I—whose careers would be destroyed by false accusations. They cannot be allowed to suffer for my error. The progress we have made cannot be undone.”
“Are you talking about Save Maui Water?” I paused, then made the connection. “Did you meet with the governor recently?”
“No.” Hisao’s eyes were dark, cold orbs.
His answer surprised me—and everyone else in the room. Yoshiko sat as though she’d been stunned into silence.
“Why did you lie to Yoshiko and who are these people you’re protecting?” I asked.
“The salient point is that I was being blackmailed by Mandy. We will have no further discussion of this matter.”
“Why?” Chance asked.
“Why what?” Hisao asked.
“How and why were you being blackmailed?”
Hisao huffed and his face reddened. “She embezzled from my organization.”
“You committed murder because she stole money from your charity?”
“Some actions cannot be forgiven.”
This had to be a lie, and I wasn’t letting him off without a better explanation. “I don’t remember the Japanese ever using death as a punishment for theft, Hisao. Tell me, how did you learn she was stealing?”
“I made the mistake of trusting Conroy to oversee Mandy’s work. But, there were two incidents, either of which should have been sufficient to cause me alarm.”
I rested my elbows on my knees and watched his face. Had Chance also seen the underlying anger in Hisao’s manner? How could he not? “What were these incidents?”
“When the newspaper called to tell me we were past due for our advertisement fees,” Hisao said, “I became suspicious. At first, I thought perhaps Mandy had forgotten to pay the bill. However, the paper explained that our check had been returned for insufficient funds. I was furious and assumed the bank had made an error. I drove to the bank and discovered there was no error. The account had only a small balance, and they had declined another check.”
“So you felt responsible for Mandy getting away with theft,” I said. “That’s understandable.”
Hisao shook his head and thundered, “It is not understandable. It is unconscionable. I trusted the wrong person and am as guilty as she.”
The veins in Hisao’s forehead bulged. Why was he so intent on paying with his life for a mistake? Was he dispensing some sort of swift samurai justice on himself? There had to be something else behind his outrage. I found myself locked in a staring contest with Hisao. I questioned whether he was showing contempt or trying to establish his dominance as we held each other’s gaze. The tension grew in the room until it was as thick as butter. Finally, I said, “You must feel betrayed.”
But, it wasn’t Hisao who answered my implied question. Mrs. Nakamura did. She spread her hands before her. “My grandson is a proud man. He would never let anyone hurt his family or the things he cares for. My husband was much the same.” She smiled at Hisao. “This is one reason Yoshiko loves him as she does.”
Yoshiko swiped away a tear from her cheek.”Hisao? You did this? You murdered this woman?” She shook her head. “No. I refuse to accept what you say.”
So did I. I wished Benni was still here. She was so good at reading people. “So you’ve never met the guy Billy told us about? You’re saying there was no mystery informant? Do you know a man named Cap Myers?”
“I have explained what happened. We will speak of this no more.”
“Mago, do not be rude.” Mrs. Nakamura bowed her head in my direction. “Mr. McKenna is trying to help you.”
“I am sorry, Soba, but this is what I must do.” He faced me. “Whose word would you believe—that of a convict, or a man of principle?”
Yoshiko slid off the couch and knelt in front of Hisao. “Husband, you have never acted in this manner. Do not throw your life away over pride.”
Hisao gazed down into Yoshiko’s eyes. His bearing softened. His lower lip even trembled. “I do not discard what I have for pride. I have no right to be proud. My life is forfeit for you and our child.”
I waited while Yoshiko cried into Hisao’s lap. Mrs. Nakamura took a deep sigh, then gazed at me. I read the anguish on her face, and the determination. I would not let this old woman down.
27
After Hisao told his story, a dark mood settled over the household, filling the air with a negative vibe so angry it seemed the only way to make things better was for us to leave. I didn’t believe him. Not for a minute. But, how would I prove he was lying?
On the drive back to Lāhainā, I watched the horizon. White, gray, and purple streaks in the sky reflected off the flat ocean, creating a canvas from which the nearby islands rose majestically. We were faced with a web of complexity in our investigation despite the tropical paradise we lived in.
All the way back to the Ilikahi, Chance and I brought the girls up-to-speed on Hisao’s confession, then the four of us came to a swift conclusion—Hisao was telling only part of the story. We all agreed he was hiding something, but we didn’t know what. Or why. Even so, we weren’t willing to abandon one of our ‘ohana in his time of need—even if he didn’t understand he needed our help.
Later in the evening, Benni and I were lying on the bed reading when she put her paperback novel to the side. I’d seen this happen before, and it always meant she had a question. I’d been struggling through a “historical thriller” Lexie had recommended and was, quite honestly, looking for an out. She’d called it a page turner. My description would be closer to snoozer.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“If it’s not his pride he’s worried about, what would Hisao protect most?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to answer her question. “Yoshiko and the baby.”
Benni nodded. “He even said it. That’s got to be it.”
“Okay, so he’s protecting her. From what, though? Yoshiko’s an artist. I doubt that’s the cover for a super spy. He has to be concerned about something else.”
“That’s it!” Benni leaned toward me, a big smile on her face. Her voice was filled with excitement. “Yoshiko’s a CIA spy, and her cover’s been blown.”
“Not likely.” I picked up the book she’d been reading. It had an illustration of a cat sitting in a quaint library filled with books. The title was “Murder by Hairball.” Definitely not something deep. I handed it back to her and snickered. “Unless…maybe…she’s a super-villain. Do you think the room is bugged? Yoshiko? Are you listening? We know what you’re up to. Benni figured it out.”
Benni smacked me on the arm, returned to her cat mystery, and huffed. “You’re terrible. That’s just plain mean. Read more, wisecrack less.”
“It’s boring.”
“Perfect.”
I pouted while she ignor
ed me. I studied the ceiling fan as it whirred in lazy circles. The air smelled faintly damp and felt heavy with moisture. We had rain coming again tonight—as if that should be a surprise in Hawai‘i. What did bother me was no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t accept Hisao’s confession. Mrs. Nakamura believed him to be a devoted husband—a good man. Was she wrong?
I went back to my book, but my eyes kept drifting shut. Minutes later, we both fell sound asleep.
I recognize the setting immediately. Ocean. Rolling waves. Me on a surfboard. I have a companion, too. The man next to me is wearing his trademark green board shorts. His bronze skin glistens in the sun. He’s Benni’s great-grandfather, known to all as Kimu. My mentor. My nemesis. My worst nightmare in many ways. He straddles a wooden longboard I haven’t seen before.
I nod at his shorts. “Hey, Kimu, how come you only have one pair of those, but a half-dozen surfboards?”
Kimu pulls at the green material. “Wash-n-wear, brah. Besides, I keep tellin’ you—dis all you. You want me wear somethin’ else, you gotta use some imagination.”
“I’m not arguing imagination with you. Why are you interfering in my vacation?”
“You da one send big kine SOS.”
He gestures at the shoreline where there are six tikis arranged in a circle. They’re moving. Jiggling to music being played by an orchestra. Are they doing a hula? Oh, good grief. How’s Kimu making that happen? And why does he keep saying I control these dreams? Dancing tikis. Ridiculous.
The musicians are dressed for an elegant evening. Black tie. “What in the world? Why are those guys all decked out? And what’s with the dancing tikis?”
Kimu nods and peers at the coast. “I agree, brah. Kinda strange.”
“Not strange, bizarre. Tikis don’t—they can’t move. They’re anchored in the ground. You can’t just make them hula. What’s it mean?”
“How should I know, brah? Dis you dream. Maybe you bettah get things under control. You sound like you gettin’ all worked up.”
Maui Magic Page 15