Coconuts and Crooks

by Christy Murphy

  Captain sighed. “We’re waiting for some tests to come back, but it’s suicide. It won’t be official for another couple of days. So keep this in this room and off the internet,” he said, turning to Wenling.

  We all nodded.

  “Hello!” Auntie Chooney’s loud voice boomed from down the hall. “I’m looking for my niece.”

  “Go get her before she disturbs everyone on the floor,” Mom said to me.

  I exited the office, and waved to Auntie Chooney so she could see where we were. Kim Lim and his helper were right behind her.

  “I’m here,” Auntie Chooney said. When she saw the Captain and the lawyer her face dropped.

  “I thought we were going to see a fortune teller,” she said.

  “This is better. This is about my fortune,” Mom responded.

  The older woman shook her head and turned to leave, but Kim Lim and his helper blocked her as they entered the office.

  “Mr. Lim!” Auntie Chooney exclaimed. “I have nothing to do with this.”

  He nodded. “I am told there is proof that wrongdoing has occurred.” His aide guided him into a chair in front of the lawyer’s desk.

  “I assure you I had no knowledge of any wrongdoing,” Auntie Chooney said. “The judge and lawyers said all was taken care of ages ago.”

  “You chose to ignore the evidence,” Mom said, “but you cannot ignore these documents.”

  “I won’t stand for these accusations,” Auntie Chooney said, and started to leave.

  “Then you will be haunted for all of your remaining days,” Mom said. Auntie Chooney stopped. Wenling motioned to a chair, and the woman sat down.

  Wenling, Captain, and I also sat down.

  “You can tell us why you’ve gathered us all here today,” Wenling said to Mom.

  Mom took a deep breath and began. “I found the document that my sister had with her when she died. From what I can tell, she got it from the judge earlier that day.

  “I tracked down the pedicab driver that was in the accident with Lalaine. He told me that he was sorry. He’d gone to Mercury Drugs in his pedicab to pick up medicine for his fever. He took the medicine right as he left the drugstore and thought he would drive straight home.

  “But Lalaine flagged him down, and since she was going in the same direction that he was, he decided to give her a ride.

  “Originally, I thought that the timing of the accident couldn’t have been a coincidence. I thought for sure that someone who had a vested interest in keeping all the land had Lalaine followed and killed in what looked like an accident. But when I found out that she was at the drugstore, and I found out where the direction of the cab was heading, I thought there might be another explanation.

  “You see, the truck came from an entirely different direction. He didn’t come from behind. How did the driver know she would be in that intersection at that time? It was nowhere near her house.”

  Mom turned to Auntie Chooney. “Abigail never said anything about her mom going to the drugstore. I found something in Lalaine’s bag with the documents,” Mom said, reaching into Lalaine’s case and pulling out an old crumpled Mercury Drug bag. Mom opened it and pulled out a small vial. Auntie Chooney gasped. “It’s diabetes medicine,” Mom said. “You’re haunted because you asked her to pick up medicine for you. Aren’t you?”

  Auntie Chooney broke down into tears. “Yes, I asked her to get my chocolates and medicine. A part of me always hoped you were right, and it wasn’t an accident. That someone had killed her. Then, I would know that it wasn’t my fault.”

  “The pedicab driver, Dolpo, begged my forgiveness. He thought he might have been drowsy from the cold medicine and worried that he didn’t react fast enough to the truck,” Mom said. “But I assured him it was an accident. Just like I assure you.” Mom bent down and gave her aunt a hug.

  “Dolpo’s son ran back to the scene of the accident to see if his father’s money box was there. Someone had stolen it, but he saw a trail of chocolates on the ground that led him to the bag. He opened the bag to see if there were more chocolates. He ate them all and kept the little bit of money that was inside. He brought the bag home and hid it, ashamed of what he’d done. But if it weren’t for the chocolate, I may have never found the lost documents.”

  “So some good came from my selfishness,” Auntie Chooney said.

  “Wanting your medicine isn’t selfish,” Mom said. “Making us all rub your feet when we were kids might have been though.”

  Auntie Chooney looked at the ground. The other people didn’t know what Mom was talking about.

  “Good job,” Kim Lim said, clapping his hands. “Very impressive sleuthing. Your reputation is well earned.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper. “This is an appraisal of what the land is worth. You can have your own appraisal done as well, but I am ready to purchase your share of the land that was unjustly taken from you.”

  “I don’t want to sell,” Mom said.

  “Not again!” Auntie Chooney said.

  “It’s not about the money,” Mom said. “My husband and I wanted to retire here. I would have bought the shares of the land so we could build our retirement home. But my husband isn’t with us, so I have a new dream for the land. When we were young, Lalaine wanted to be an artist like Papa. Papa studied art, but he made his living painting signs. This was before computers. When he died, Lalaine had to give up art. I would like to have an art center built in her memory and have the children come to learn free of charge,” Mom said. “That is my price.”

  Kim Lim nodded. “It will be done,” he said.

  Mr. Lim insisted that they add a small gallery to display local artists’ works. “To support their art when they’re grown.”

  “I have a painting that your papa did,” Auntie Chooney volunteered. “I will donate it for the gallery.”

  Mom was touched by the gesture.

  “Let’s get a picture of you two shaking hands,” Wenling said.

  “Can I get a picture with Jo, too?” Auntie Chooney asked.

  Wenling looked at Mom, and Mom waved her aunt over to her.

  “Does this mean I am forgiven?” I heard Auntie Chooney whisper to Mom.

  “Yes,” Mom said.

  The older woman wiped the tears from her eyes. I knew she wouldn’t be haunted anymore.

  Auntie Chooney left with Captain. The aide and Mr. Kim left next. Mom stayed to pay Attorney Torres, and then the three of us left together.

  “So I guess we won’t get our vengeance,” Wenling said, disappointed as we walked out of the office.

  “No, but maybe it’s like that other movie you have,” Mom said.

  “Which one?” Wenling asked as we got into the Mystery Machine.

  They argued about the movie until Wenling pulled out her iPad, and Mom pointed to it. “Braveheart,” Mom said. “It’s like that.”

  “How is it like that?”

  “It takes a brave heart to see the truth—that not every death has an easy villain, and an even braver heart to forgive those we have held grudges against for way too long.”

  “I hate when you talk like this,” Wenling said. “No fun at all.”

  Mom laughed. I thought about my ex-husband. Did I have a brave enough heart to forgive him too? Could I forgive myself?

  The three of us sat at the Casablanca Cafe two days later. That morning, the news of the judge’s suicide became official. Captain said we were “instrumental” in finding out what happened. Auntie Chooney and Gail were quick to share the news that Mom had solved the case of the “missing documents” and take credit for donating art to the new museum and art school.

  We were the talk of the town. We’d taken over a dozen selfies with various people on the island. People even wanted to take photos with Buboy and the Mystery Machine.

  Wenling enjoyed being a celebrity the most, but I must admit, it was fun for Mom and me too.

  “It’s a shame we can’t stay to see them break ground on the school,”
Wenling said. “Mr. Kim said you could cut the ribbon. There will be a plaque, and the newspaper will be there, I’m sure.”

  “That will take another couple of months. Christy has to get back to Fletcher Canyon, and so do you,” Mom said.

  “Chen is winning a lot of money playing pai gow. He says he hopes I stay for longer,” Wenling said.

  “Well, we need to get back,” Mom said, and then turned her focus to something across the Boulevard. “There he is!”

  “What?” Wenling said.

  “Balut vendor,” Mom said, pointing to an older man pushing a wooden cart.

  “I gotta go,” Wenling said, stealing Mom’s catchphrase from the adult diaper commercial and chasing after the man.

  My thoughts turned to DC. I missed him, but being here in the Philippines with Mom was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. “I think Dar-Dar is doing fine handling the orders. We’re doing fine on money,” I said.

  “I know you want to get back,” Mom said.

  “I like it here,” I said. “And I need some time to think things over.”

  “What things?” Mom asked.

  “What I want to do with my life,” I said. “I quit school for Robert. I never even thought about what I wanted for myself. My mind was consumed with getting him to love me.”

  “What about DC?” Mom asked.

  “I don’t know where things stand with us, Mom, and I’m thinking that if it’s meant to be then he’ll wait for me.”

  “Have you checked your Facebook yet?” Mom asked.

  “I’ve been keeping in touch with Dar-Dar through email.”

  “I think you should check it,” Mom said.

  I logged into the Wi-Fi with my old iPhone and opened my Facebook. There was a friend request from DC! “He said he wasn’t going to be on Facebook.”

  “Dar-Dar has been showing him the pictures we post. He’s gone to the Mocha Muse every day since you left.”

  I looked at my timeline to see what photos I’d been tagged in. There were photos of me on the beach in Cebu, and pictures of me with Abigail’s husband, Dr. Acostas, and the doorman. “You guys did that on purpose!” I said, realizing why Wenling was so interested in getting pictures with just me and men on the island. She was trying to make DC jealous.

  I accepted DC’s friend request. He only had two other friends, Mom and Wenling. I couldn’t help but stare at his photo for a few moments longer than I care to admit. Then I realized I was ignoring my mother for a man again. I turned to her. “Don’t you want to stay for the groundbreaking?”

  “Kid, you’ve been great coming here already,” Mom said. “DC is a good man. He’s not like Robert.”

  I sighed. DC wasn’t like Robert, but even if he had gone on Facebook for me, what did that mean?

  My phone beeped. It startled me.

  “It’s your Facebook chat,” Mom said.

  I looked down. “It’s DC. He’s calling me!”

  Mom smiled. “I’m going to see if Wenling has made herself sick with that street vendor.”

  I panicked trying to figure out how to answer the chat and answered it just in time.

  My screen went blank, and then DC’s face appeared. “Hey stranger!”

  “Hi!” I said, excited. “Let me put on my headphones.”

  I dug them out of my pocket, plugged them in, and we did the what time is it over there chit-chat and marveled at how crazy it was that we could talk from so far apart.

  “I hear you guys solved the case,” DC said.

  “Turns out the police were right. It was an accident,” I said, surprised that he used the word “case.”

  “We get it right from time to time,” he said. “Listen, I’m sorry I was such a grouch when we spoke last. I was just disappointed that I didn’t get to spend more time with you to say goodbye.”

  “I would’ve liked to have seen your fish tank,” I said.

  He smiled and nodded. “I miss you, Christy. When are you coming home?”

  I looked across the Boulevard at Wenling and Mom. Buboy had stopped with the Mystery Machine. Some locals were taking selfies with them. “You know, this opportunity to be here with Mom… I don’t know if it’ll ever come up again. We’ve been so busy with the case, I haven’t met all my relatives or saw where she went to school.”

  DC looked disappointed, but I knew I was doing the right thing. “I understand,” he said. “So it’ll be another few months or something, I take it.”

  “I think so,” I said.

  He nodded. “You know I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t plan to,” he said.

  “Me neither,” I said.

  “You look really beautiful,” he said. “On this screen and in your photos. A lot of those guys seem to notice you look good, too.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Well, they know you’ve got a boyfriend, don’t they?”

  “I didn’t know I had a boyfriend until just now.”

  “Well you do. Promise you’ll let them know,” DC said.

  “I promise.”

  It was almost midnight in Fletcher Canyon and DC had to go to sleep. We said our goodbyes and hung up. Mom and Wenling were crossing the Boulevard and heading over to me. My phone dinged. I looked down and saw a notification from Facebook asking me to confirm my relationship status. DC had initiated the change. I hit accept, and it was official. DC Cooper was “in a relationship” with Christy Murphy.

  9

  A Note from the Author and Her Mom

  I called Mom on Facebook voice chat. That part with DC and Christy video chatting was a bit of wish fulfillment.

  “I finished the book,” I said to Mom.

  “That’s good. How many is that now?”

  “Five,” I said. “I used a few names of our friends and relatives.”

  “You didn’t make them sound like bad people, did you?” Mom asked.

  “It’s not them. I just don’t know a lot of Filipino names,” I said.

  “You should have called me. I know lots of Filipino names.”

  “You’ve been busy,” I said.

  “Whose names did you use?” she asked.

  I told her about Auntie Chooney and Lalaine.

  “Aye! Lalaine isn’t dead, and Darwin’s Auntie Chooney is nice!” Mom said.

  “It’s not them, it’s fiction.” I couldn’t remember if I told my mother I started using Darwin’s name a few books ago. By the way, if you meet the Darwin in our family, he just dresses regular. He’s not gay and has never entered any kind of beauty pageant.

  “But you use our real names,” Mom said.

  “Technically the Jo in the book is short for Jolena, and my character has a different middle name than me,” I said.

  “Jolena!” Mom laughed. “Did you mention the other middle name and Jolena in the book?”

  “I’ll fit it in there somewhere,” I said. “It’s more like backstory.”

  “Then tell them the truth about Lalaine and Chonita, too.”

  “I can change it if they’ll be upset.”

  “Nah, they won’t read it, anyway.”

  I told Mom about the book and how it takes place in Lapitan. “It’s basically Dumaguete, but I changed some things so no one will think the judges in town are corrupt if they visit.”

  “There’s a lot of corruption here in the Philippines, but it’s hard to know where, and it’s best to not name names even if you know.”

  “Do you know names?” I said.

  “I told you, I know a lot of names.”

  Mom wrapped the call. She had to go with her new husband to the market. “Don’t forget to thank the people who bought your book, and tell them I said hello.”

  “I’ll tell them,” I said.

  Mom said goodbye and told me she hoped she’d be back in the United States soon. Fictional Mom and Christy will be back in Fletcher Canyon for the next book, too.

  Thank you for reading. Mom says hello.

  Sincerely,r />
  Christy Murphy

  Also by Christy Murphy

  Mango Cake and Murder

  Apple Pies and Alibis

  Milkshakes and Murder

  Mocha and Murder

  Coconuts and Crooks

  Honey Buns and Homicide