“Now you,” he said and pointed a finger.
“Wasn’t me,” I said. I might have been warming up to Miss Vivee’s idea of murder, but I definitely wasn’t going to take the blame for any of her shenanigans.
“Can’t we start over?” I said. “How do you get off the boat fussing at me? I’ve been so looking forward to you getting here.”
Bay looked at me and hung his head. Then he took a few dozen long strides backwards, a good ten yards out. He stopped. Smiled. Waved. He acted as if he was seeing me for the first time. Then he ran to me, swept me up into his arms and covered me with kisses.
“Hello, Logan,” he said breathily and nestled his mouth into my neck. “I’ve missed you terribly.”
I broke out in a fit of giggles. And laughed even harder when I heard Miss Vivee say, “Oh, good Lord.”
If my experiences so far on the island had been like a movie, Bay reworking his entrance was an Oscar worthy scene. I didn’t think any screenwriter could have written it better.
Fade to black . . .
Chapter Sixteen
The night of his arrival was a big night, and it had been intentional that Bay was here in time for it. When he couldn’t get all the days he wanted, we’d made sure he’d be here for this activity. We were going to the Meke and lovo. It was a night of celebration of the wonderful and vibrant Fijian culture. I usually learned about the culture of people through the pottery, and artifacts I dug up, but this lesson was live and in living color.
I was so excited to have Bay there, even though now he was going to take time to be part of the investigation. Not murder investigation. I didn’t want to say those words.
Bay was coming to pick me up at my bure at any moment, and I still wasn’t ready. I wanted to look extra nice for him, but my curly hair and all the humidity in Fiji were at odds. I stood in front of the mirror and tried to press it down.
“Oh well. This is the best it’s going to get,” I said to my reflection and stuck a stray curl behind my ear. I swabbed a shimmery pink gloss over my lips, rubbed them together to smear it evenly, and then popped my lips.
I turned to the side, stood on my toes so I could see my profile, and yanked my yellow sundress down over my butt. I looked at my bare feet, and hurried to put my sandals on, Bay was always complaining that I was always late, and so far it didn’t seem like tonight was going to be any different. So I tried to speed up.
With me not having much experience in dress-up, a T-shirt and khaki shorts had always been my happy place. Looking cute all the time I found was a hard and time consuming job.
Bay was coming to pick me up because we were sleeping in different bures. I just couldn’t bring myself to have Bay in the same room with me when Miss Vivee was in the next bure over. I wasn’t worried though, we’d make up for lost time when we went to my excavation site. Only four more days.
“Hello.” Bay gave a knock on the door and opened it. “You ready?”
“Yep,” I said and came out of the bedroom. “On time, too.”
“Unbelievable.”
I laughed. “I’m not always late.”
“No. I mean the way you look.” He came over and wrapped his arms around me. “You look unbelievable.”
I blushed. I didn’t know what else to do.
Bay pecked a kiss on my cheek. “Alright, let’s go. I don’t want to be late for this. I’m so excited.”
“You are?” I said grabbing my key and handing it to Bay so he could keep it in his pocket for me. I didn’t want to carry a purse, and the itty-bitty sundress I’d decided to wear didn’t have any pockets.
“Yes, I am. You may be a world traveler, but I’ve never left the states before, heck, I don’t think I’ve been more than two states over in any direction from Georgia. I want the full experience.”
I had been all over the world. Even starting at a young age. My mother used to take the whole family on digs with her, wherever her work led her. As kids we traveled to Egypt, Jerusalem, Turkey on digs, and then gone to fun places like Italy and France on vacation. And as an archaeologist, I had started my work in the Americas – both North and South.
“Well then, let’s get started!” I said.
“Are we picking up Grandmother and Mac?”
“No,” I said. “You and I are going to the cocktail hour first. It’s just a little get together for guests with Avvy and Temo, they own the resort.”
“They didn’t want to go?”
“I am trying to steer your grandmother away from people, because she will bring that little notebook of hers and start her interrogations. Do you know she went to Hadley’s Drugstore before we left and loaded up on those little notepads she likes to use when there was a case to be solved? And I don’t know when she could’ve gotten them, because she sends me on all her errands.”
“She is a sneaky one,” Bay said.
“I know. And she is bent on Cambell Gruger’s death being a murder.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s what Miss Vivee does. She sees murder around every corner.”
He laughed. “What about Mac?”
“He does whatever Miss Vivee wants. You know that. Goes right along with her, even fuels her fire with all of his medical knowledge. He sticks to her and her deductions like white on rice.”
“Is that what you want me to do? Be all over you like white on rice?” he pulled me in close to him, so tightly I stumbled.
“No!” I said, pulling away, I smacked his arm.
“We’ll probably be just like that when we’ve been married for fifty years.”
“Miss Vivee and Mac have been married for a month,” I said.
“You’re turning into her, you know.”
“Turning into Miss Vivee?”
“Yep. Sometimes you act, and say things, just like her.”
I hung my head. It was true. I was more like Miss Vivee than I cared to admit. I used southern sayings, had taken to calling people by two names, and was even a little snippy.
“You’re going to have to save me, Bay,” I said.
“Being like my grandmother is not a bad thing.”
Oh, if he only knew how bad a thing it was.
“So then, they’ll just meet up with us for dinner?” Bay asked.
I was glad he changed the subject, I had just been trying to think of something else to talk about.
“They’ll meet us for the Meke.”
“Now tell me again what that is?”
“It’s a traditional Fijian Dance.”
“Oh, right.” He nodded his head. “Like the Hawaiian dances you see on television.”
“Yep. Complete with grass-skirts and all. It’s actually performed by a local Island Dance Troupe. Then the lovo.”
“Lovo? Wait, don’t tell me, I’ll remember.”
“That’s dinner, Bay.” He wouldn’t have ever remembered it. “Earlier today the staff buried some local meats and seafood wrapped in banana leaves. They are slow roasting it over hot rocks.”
“They put the rocks and food in the ground, then cover it up? With dirt?”
“Yep. It’s wrapped in banana leaves, I told you. And I can’t wait to taste it.” I licked my lips. “But it’s a good thing we weren’t here last week.”
“Why?”
“Because, according to Miss Vivee’s rumor mill, Madda Crawford doused the fire, the food didn’t get cooked, and there was nothing to eat. Now this week, her alibi, and apparent secret admirer, decided to continue her handy work.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But after being around your grandmother, people doing odd things just seems normal to me anymore.”
Chapter Seventeen
And speaking of Hank Harrison, he was the first person I saw when we entered the covered patio were the lovo was going to take place. Seeing him reminded me that he was the only person, besides Miss Vivee that thought someone had actually been murdered in the accident that killed Madda Crawford and Campbell
Gruger. Only he thought Madda had been the one murdered.
Hank Harrison had beady eyes under his thick black eyebrows. His hair that looked like it had been painted, with a broad brush, black. No way, a man his age – he looked to be in his early sixties – wouldn’t have a speck of gray. And then, on top of his dyed hair, it looked as if he added a coat of grease. He always had a forehead full of perspiration.
I slid in close to Bay, not knowing what that man’s agenda was. It was so nice to have a man that was in the FBI, I always felt so safe.
We found our tables, and I looked around for Miss Vivee, but instead saw Sassy. She waved to me as if she had actually been friendly to me the day before.
“Hi, Logan!” she said with all of her Southern charm on display. Today she had on a mint green strapless sundress that fit every curve she had, her lips were sparkling with a kiss of pale pink, and her legs were bare. She gave me an air kiss. “Is this your fiancé?”
“Yes. Bay Colquett this is Sassy Gruger.”
“Alcott-Gruger she corrected me. “I’m the widow in case you haven’t heard. I hadn’t packed one thing black.” She pointed down at her outfit.
I guess because she was in mourning . . .
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Bay said and stood up. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I’m still just up in arms about all of this investigation stuff that’s going on. I just want to go home and weep on my momma’s shoulder.”
“I understand,” I said.
“And then to think that it may be murder . . .” She opened her mouth and let out a groan, then closed her eyes and shook her head.
Bay and I looked at each other.
“Bay will quash all of this,” I said. I finally had someone on my side about the ridiculousness of Miss Vivee’s assertions. “He’s going to talk to the Inspector tomorrow.”
“Oh you are?” She looked like she was confused. “Oh wait, I know. Your grandmother told me that you were with the FBI.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am,” he said.
“Oh!” she let out a long sigh. “I’m sure it’ll be cleared up then with you leading the brigade.” Sassy smiled and touched Bay on his arm. “Thank you.” She let her shoulders drop as if the weight of the world had been lifted. “I didn’t want to think that Cam had been . . .” she turned her head away and bit her lip.
I half expected her to put a balled fist up to her mouth.
She shook her head. “Bless her heart,” she said. “Your grandmother is a hoot. And I do thank her from the bottom of my heart for being there at my time of need.”
“My grandmother is nothing if not helpful,” Bay said. “It’s just that she seems to have this thing about murder.”
Sassy laughed. “Well did she ever figured out what the “murder weapon?’
“Hyponatremia,” I said.
“Oh my,” she said and swallowed hard. She pulled her hand from Bay’s arm. “What an imagination. Well, I’ve got to scoot. Don’t want to miss the show.”
“You want to sit with us?” I asked.
“Oh, ain’t you sweet?” She took my hand and kissed me on my cheek. “But no. Everyone is being so kind to me, and Temo said he had something special set up for me.”
“Oh okay,” I said.
“Now ya’ll let me know as soon as you get back from Viti Levu, you hear me? I want to get my baby back home and buried properly. I’m a woman in mourning and I need my family to hold me up.”
“Will do,” Bay said. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Oh, I sure will try,” Sassy said. She waved and scooted around tables and chairs to a back table.
“She seems nice,” Bay said. “Holding up good for a woman who has just lost her husband.”
“She said she comes from strong stock, but I’m not so sure, the way she’s always fainting.”
He frowned. “I thought she only fainted once.”
“I’m sure there’ll be more to come. Probably, when you bring the news her husband had a heart attack and drowned.”
“I won’t say it so crassly though.”
I chuckled. “Your grandmother likes her.”
“She does?” I nodded. “Well she must be good people then.”
“Yeah, well if you use that as a measuring stick, no one else on this island is good people. Because she doesn’t like anybody else.”
“So what is that hyponemea?”
“Hyponatremia,” I corrected. “It’s the electrolyte imbalance that sets the condition to die from water intoxication. Means that there is a drop in sodium in the blood.”
“Okay. I don’t know what all that means,” Bay said. “But that seems to make it even more complicated to have committed a murder by those means.”
“It’s what I’ve been telling Miss Vivee. But that doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s determined that she and Mac will figure it out.”
“There’s Mac,” Bay stood up and waved him over. “I don’t see my grandma.”
“Hi there,” Mac said and wiped his hand over his shock of white hair.
“Where’s Grandmother?” Bay asked.
“Oh, she’ll make her appearance soon,” Mac said and winked.
Chapter Eighteen
The lights went down on the stage, the lali drums started a rhythmic beat and then a slow rise of a melodic chant followed. Whoa wee wah we whoa, sung by females with high alto voices came from somewhere behind the stage. Then came a chorus of male voices harmonized with them and a unique sound of Polynesian-styled music emanated throughout the tented dinner hall.
Three women came out onto the darkened stage, and when the lights went up I almost fell out of my seat. There was Miss Vivee on the stage with Elenoa, and another girl, all set to dance.
“Bula!” the announcer yelled into a mike. “Tonight, we have a guest dancer. An American with the heart, soul and dance moves of a Fijian. Enjoy as they dance the Meke.
I looked at Mac, who nodded and grinned a smile wider than the Mississippi. Then I looked over at Bay. He was beaming.
Miss Vivee was barefoot, she had grass rings around her ankles and her wrists. She was dressed in a woven cream and brown skirt that hit her right below her knee, and a polyester black blouse. She had long hair down – the first time I’d seen her style it that way and her face looked intent.
Standing still with one foot in front of the other, Miss Vivee made quick, terse hand movement as part of her dance, so unlike the waving, fluid motion of a Hawaiian dance. She was right in sync with the other girls, and looked as if she’d been doing it for years.
I don’t think I had ever enjoyed anything so much.
The three bowed their heads after only a couple of minutes, and the announcer came back. “Please, thank Mrs. Vivienne Whitson for gracing our stage.”
Everyone clapped as Miss Vivee lifted her head. She smiled and exited stage left. She was escorted to her seat The other girls on stage, still with their heads down, was joined by another girl, and four guys, and if they did anything I didn’t know it, because the star of the night was at the table with us and she had all of my attention.
“Miss Vivee!” I said and got up to hug her. “You were wonderful.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” she said her face was glowing. “I just learned it this afternoon.”
“I was wondering about that. When did you have time?”
“When you were off spending the afternoon with Bay,” she said. “Elenoa taught me.”
“Elenoa?”
“Yes,” Miss Vivee said. “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?”
“Grandmother,” Bay said. “You were the most beautiful one up there tonight.” He shook his head. “You just never know what you might do at any given moment.”
“Gotta stay on your toes to keep up with me,” Miss Vivee said smiling.
“And the most graceful,” Mac said. “You out did those young girls. I am so proud of you.”
“All of that dancing made me hungry,” Miss Vivee
said. “When do we eat?”
┌┐└┘┌┐└┘┌┐└┘┌┐└┘┌┐└┘
The underground roasted meats and bananas were succulent and moist. It was served with a cold buffet from local markets and traditional Fijian delicacies, including Chili Mud Crab, followed by an array of tropical desserts and fresh fruit.
I’d never seen Miss Vivee eat so much of something that didn’t contain boiled eggs and mayonnaise.
After the lovo was over, Bay and I parted ways with Miss Vivee and Mac. She was tired, and wanted to go back to their bure. We’d decided to meet early for breakfast before Bay took off for the big island.
Bay and I stayed up all night. We walked on the beach, along the trails, and hid under a canopy of trees when it started to rain. We ended up on the verandah of my bure before he decided he needed to get back to get a few hours of sleep before going to the big island to see the Inspector in Nadi.
“We’re going to have breakfast before you leave, right?” I said.
“Yeah, just like we decided,” Bay said. “I talked to Temo, he said we could leave around 9:30.”
“How can you even work with the authorities here?” I asked Bay. “The FBI is a domestic organization.”
“It is, but the FBI does also maintain a significant international footprint. We’ve got over sixty legal attaché offices.”
“Is there one in Fiji?”
He shook his head. “The closest one is in Australia.”
I stretched my eyes, and pursed my lips. “So what does that have to do with you helping out? This isn’t Australia.”
He chuckled. “I was just giving you the logistics . . . I’ll just skip to the part you want to know about. There is a sub-office of LEGAT in the US Embassy-”
“What is LEGAT?”
“The Legal Attaché. It’s an acronym.”
“Oh. Okay. So what now?”
“So, for the most part, the LEGAT exists primarily for the purpose of coordination with foreign security services and wouldn’t conduct unilateral operations in a host county.”
“That sounds to me like the FBI can’t help in this investigation.”
South Seas Shenanigans Page 8