Dinah said, “It sounds lovely, Claude Ann. I’m thrilled for you.”
“There’s one thing you may not be so thrilled about.” She bit her lip and looked sheepish. “I invited Phoebe Marshall. I know she used to say stuff that rubbed you wrong.”
Dinah hadn’t thought of Phoebe in years. She’d been another of Claude Ann’s broken-winged birds, a beneficiary not just of Claude Ann’s kindness, but also of her clout. With Claude Ann as her champion, she’d been elected editor of the Needmore Nuggets Newspaper and fancied herself the Boswell of the class. Some of the nuggets she’d printed, especially about Dinah and the goings-on in her family, had been less than complimentary, but it was the maid of honor’s duty to back the bride. She said, “It’ll be fun to see Phoebe again.”
Their drinks arrived.
Claude Ann touched her glass to Dinah’s and Xander’s. “Here’s to happy days.”
“Happy days,” they said in unison.
Xander held Claude Ann’s eyes in a way that made Dinah feel like an intruder. She was about to excuse herself and leave them to their trance when Xander snapped out of it.
“I’m about to retire from the U.S. Geological Survey, Dinah. I’ve bought and sold several parcels of land over the years, but nothing as big as the deal I’m working on now. The contract has been signed and it’s scheduled to close the day after the wedding. Then Claude Ann and I are off to Bali for our honeymoon. Her friend, Phoebe, has agreed to stay for a few weeks and take care of Marywave for us.”
Claude Ann said, “I feel kinda bad leavin’ Marywave behind, but Phoebe gets along with her real well. She’s spent a lot of time handholding the two of us over this last year. Maybe she can talk some sense into the little mule.” Her smile was cheery and blithe, but Dinah had a hunch she was more worried about Marywave than she let on.
“Xan, honey, Dinah’s prob’ly dyin’ to know about that hullabaloo with the Pele gang. Tell her what you told me.”
At last. Dinah sat forward. “I take it they’re opposed to your development.”
“It’s nothing, really. A minor nuisance. As a matter of fact, the Land Commission issued its approval only a few hours ago. That’s why I was late.” He heaved a longsuffering sigh, like what’s a guy to do. “Somebody finds a few bones or an endangered haha plant in a pasture and immediately there’s a hue and cry for a moratorium on development. Hawaii is the endangered species capital of the world. There’s always some new flora or fauna in danger of extinction.”
“Did the protesters find an endangered haha on the land you plan to develop?”
“The environmental studies say not, but the fanatics are never satisfied. I’m all for preserving Nature, but I have all of the requisite county, state, and federal permits. Uwahi Gardens is makai property…”
“Makai means toward the ocean,” said Claude Ann. “Uwahi is right on the ocean.”
Xander smiled indulgently. “Uwahi is prime oceanfront property, the opportunity of a lifetime. My company has done all of the preliminary studies and we’re selling it development-ready to one of the country’s premier development corporations. The CEO, Paul Jarvis, took one look at the property and shook hands on the spot. Of course, we had to get the Land Commission’s okay and there’s a short lag while his attorneys check our bona fides. That’s why these protests are a headache. I don’t want their rant giving Jarvis or his legal team second thoughts ahead of the closing date.”
“What frosts me,” said Claude Ann, “is the ignorant way those people talk, dis ting and dat ting. How do they expect you to even understand what they’re bellyachin’ about?”
“Everybody in Hawaii speaks some pidgin, darling. It’s our local language, a mélange of English and Hawaiian with smatterings of every language spoken by the immigrants who came to work the sugar plantations back in the eighteen hundreds—Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Portuguese, Samoan, Filipino. Pidgin is the bridge, the lingua franca.” A note of grievance seeped into his voice. “Unfortunately, not everyone wants to bridge differences.”
Dinah inferred that reference was to Eleanor. “What does kanaka maoli mean?” she asked, recalling one of the protester’s signs.
“The kanaka maoli are native Hawaiians or their descendants. There’s always a group of them decrying the exploitation of Hawaiians by white and Asian foreigners and protesting the overthrow of their queen.”
“The way that Eleanor struts around,” said Claude Ann, “you’d think that she’s the queen.”
Xander raked his dark forelock out of his face and drained his martini. “I don’t mean to be critical, darling, but I wish you hadn’t spoken to her. The last thing we need is for that woman to start turning up on the evening news peddling her rubbish. Put her out of your mind. Don’t egg her on or let her know that she’s rattled you. Three more days and nothing she says or does will matter.”
“If you say so. But she better not cross me after Mr. Jarvis has signed on the dotted line.”
Dinah sensed a more personal animosity between Xander and Eleanor than any housing development should have caused and a greater fear of her “rubbish” than he was willing to admit. “There was another sign,” she said. “Uwahi joose. What does joose mean?”
“It means rigged.” His tone turned bitter, as if she’d accused him of a crime. “And there’s nothing joose or unfair about Uwahi. I’ve spent nearly two years and a staggering sum of money acquiring the land and conducting every environmental and archaeological and anthropological study under the sun. Everything to do with Uwahi is completely legitimate and proper.”
“I’m sure it is.” Dinah offered a mollifying smile. “Oo-wa-hee.” She sounded out the syllables slowly. “Uwahi is a melodic name for a housing development.”
“It is, isn’t it?” His manner became easy and affable again. “It comes from a mele my late wife used to chant. It translates roughly to milk of fire. The land is part of an old volcanic flow.”
Chapter Five
A slender girl in her mid-twenties with Polynesian features, pouty lips, and hip-length black hair sashayed through the restaurant and stopped beside their table. “Sorry I’m late.” She didn’t say it like she meant it.
Xander stood and kissed her on the cheek. “Dinah Pelerin, meet my daughter, Lyssa Reid. Dinah is Claude Ann’s maid of honor, Lyssa.”
“The same one she had last time, right?” Lyssa smirked and scooted in next to Dinah. She had an arresting notch in her right nostril, which gave her a peculiarly haughty look, and the chip on her shoulder stuck out like a pikestaff.
Xander winced slightly and sat down. “You’ll have to forgive Lyssa’s flippancy. She’s been spending too much time with…”
“My husband?” She tossed her hair.
Dinah affected a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lyssa. Claude Ann tells me that you’ll be one of her bridesmaids.”
“That’s right.”
“What do you do back in Virginia?” asked Dinah.
“I’m a finder. I find unusual things for people, antiques and rare objects for collectors, props for TV shows and movies. Anything, really.”
“That sounds fascinating,” said Dinah. “How did you get started as a finder?”
“I’ve always been a natural sleuth, haven’t I, Daddy?”
Claude Ann said, “It’s a cryin’ shame Lyssa and Raif can’t stay all summer, but Raif’s a race car driver and he has to get back to the mainland for a big NASCAR race.”
“That sounds like an interesting life,” said Dinah. “Do you travel with him to the races, Lyssa?”
“Not often.” She slued her eyes at her father.
“Raif doesn’t think she’d enjoy the society,” said Xander. “Not all of the boys behave as they should when they’re away from home.”
Lyssa unfurled her napkin with a snap. “Has eve
ryone ordered?”
“We were waiting for you and Raif,” said Xander. “Where is he?”
“Playing poker in the game room. He’ll be along when he finishes the hand.”
“I wish he wouldn’t flout the law so blatantly. Gambling in a hotel or a public place is illegal in Hawaii. If he’s caught…”
“Nobody’s going to catch Raif, Daddy.”
Xander beckoned the waiter. “Then let’s hope the cards are running better for him tonight.”
Their server returned to the table and passed out menus. Lyssa ordered Cachi Water.
“It’s from Costa Rica,” she said to Dinah. “When I do travel, I order a case delivered to each of the places I expect to stay. I’m addicted.”
Xander ordered a bottle of white wine for the table and another champagne cocktail for Claude Ann. When the waiter had gone, he smiled at his daughter. “Is it possible to be addicted to a chichi designer water?”
Lyssa cut her eyes at him. “You should be glad that water’s my only addiction.”
“If only,” he muttered, not quite under his breath.
Claude Ann rushed into the breach. “Does anybody know if Jon’s gonna show up for the party tomorrow night?”
Xander brightened. “Jonathan is my son, Dinah. He had to finish analyzing some lava samples and write a report, but he called this afternoon and said he’d be flying over from the Big Island tomorrow afternoon. It took a bit of arm-twisting. He’s not exactly a party animal.”
“Is he a volcanologist, too?”
“One of the best and brightest in the U.S.G.S. He’s going to be a leading light in the field one of these days.”
“Who’s alight?” A blond dude with blowtorch blue eyes and an arrogant air slid into the seat next to Lyssa.
Xander’s mouth tightened. “Hello, Raif.”
“Hello, all.” He kissed his forefinger and touched it to Lyssa’s nose, then introduced himself to Dinah. “I’m Raif Reid. And you must be Claude Ann’s friend from Georgia.”
Dinah owned as much. “Nice to meet you.”
“Ditto. I love Georgia. That Atlanta Motor Speedway’s great, especially the night races. The fans tailgate all day. By dark, they’re cranked and the drivers are hot to get tearing around the track. The sparks really fly.”
Lyssa said, “Raif’s won his last six races. He’s one of the hottest stars on the circuit.”
“On the Southeast regional circuit,” amended Xander, his voice edged with contempt. “Raif doesn’t drive in the Sprint Cup Series.”
“Not yet,” said Raif, fingering a gold chain with a Lucky 7 pendant. He draped an arm around Lyssa’s shouders. “Hey, babe, the cards were running hot tonight. I’m up a grand. What do you say? Shall we spend it on a magnum of Cristal?”
“Let’s,” said Lyssa. “I feel extravagant. Daddy only has two more nights as a free man. We should get him roaring drunk and see what happens.”
A muscle in Xander’s jaw rippled. “Order what you like. Ask the waiter to put it on a separate check.”
Again, Claude Ann tried to defuse the tension. “We were talking about Jonathan, Raif. He’s decided to come to our party tomorrow night.”
“Cool,” said Raif. “How’d you lure him out of his bunker?”
“It takes a special occasion to bring Jon out,” Claude Ann explained to Dinah. “He’s kind of a shrinkin’ violet.”
Xander’s eyes betrayed a flash of annoyance. “Jon’s not a recluse. He has a lot of work to do is why he isn’t with us tonight.”
Raif shrugged. “All work and no play. Amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?”
“It amounts,” said Xander, “to the fact that he’s dedicated to his profession. He knows more about Hawaiian rock and its mineral and geochemical composition than anyone.”
The waiter brought the white wine, the champagne cocktail, and the Cachi Water. He poured the wine and asked if they were ready to order. They weren’t and Raif seemed to have forgotten all about the Cristal. He ordered a double Jack Daniels on the rocks and the waiter repaired to the kitchen.
Raif rolled his shoulders and lazed against the upholstered seat back. “Rah for all that dedication, but it can’t be much fun cuddling up to a report on rocks at the end of the day.”
Xander’s eyes narrowed and Dinah forged into the conversational crosscurrents. “Where did you and Lyssa meet, Raif?”
“Right here in the Big Pineapple. My family has been coming to Hawaii every year since I was a kid. After I got kicked out of Georgetown Prep in D.C., my parents talked me into Honolulu’s most exclusive educational institution, Punahou Prep. That didn’t work out too well either, but I met some of the islands’ elite and up-and-coming. They like having a scion of old Virginia aristocracy on their Rolodex, especially one with his feet in two worlds. My Nascar adventures entertain the hell out of them.”
Lyssa beamed him an adoring smile. “Raif doesn’t fit anyone’s mold. He’s one of a kind.”
Raif appeared to accept her adulation as no less than his due. “I’m a spark plug. I touch off the combustion and keep the party lively.”
“Opakapaka.” Claude Ann pored over the menu, or pretended to. “I’ve had that before. It’s the same as pink snapper. What’s this a’u, Xan?”
“A’u is Pacific marlin, a‘uku is swordfish, hihi-wai is a kind of shellfish, and opah is a moonfish. It’s very rich and creamy. Hawaiians call it the good luck fish. And mahi mahi is dolphin fish.”
“Not like the dolphins in the lagoon,” Claude Ann assured Dinah. “It’s a fish, not a mammal.”
The waiter returned with Raif’s drink and took their dinner order. Dinah, Raif, and Lyssa went in together and ordered a lau-lau—individual packets of pork shoulder, chicken, vegetables, and butterfish wrapped in taro leaves, then tied together in ti-leaves and steamed. Claude Ann ordered the mahi mahi and Xander ordered the good luck fish. After they’d sipped their drinks for a few minutes, the atmosphere grew friendlier.
Xander said, “Jon doesn’t have a date for the party, Dinah. Would you allow him the honor of being your escort? I think you’ll enjoy his company and I know he’ll enjoy yours.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting him,” she said, trapped, “and to learning more about what volcanologists do. Can you predict when a volcano is going to erupt?”
“We have some very sophisticated instruments for measuring any bulge in the mountain or increase in magma, but we still can’t predict the exact time or precise impacts of an eruption.”
“Like with people,” said Raif with a provocative semi-sneer.
Claude Ann plopped a sugar cube into her champagne cocktail, which fizzed angrily. “I’m glad you’re retiring, Xan. I’d worry myself sick sittin’ home thinking about you tramping around all that hot lava.”
Xander gave her hand a squeeze. “Gratifying as it is to be worried about, the majority of volcanologists die like accountants and dentists, in their bed.”
“When you write your vows,” said Claude Ann, “I want that one in there for sure. And you better promise to be at least a hundred when you croak.”
Xander laughed. “How can I possibly object to writing that one?”
“Volcanology.” Raif slouched in his seat and stared pensively into his glass. “It’s a profession that takes more cojones than I’ve got. Two hundred miles an hour screaming around a tight track is my idea of a blast, but hiking around the red-hot cauldron of an active volcano? That scares the bejesus out of me.”
Lyssa gave her father a black look. “It’s hardly a mystery why that should be, is it?”
Xander grimaced, as if he’d been stabbed, and Claude Ann shot him an anxious look.
Raif lifted his glass. “Here’s to the happy couple. May you both live to a hundred.”
Dinah
smiled and seconded the sentiment, but an awkward silence settled over the table. Dinnertime conversation was strained and edgy and the evening ended early.
Chapter Six
Dinah lay sunning on her balcony lanai, drinking her morning cup of Kona coffee and reading the story of Lo-Lale, son of a legendary King of Oahu. Lo-Lale was a bachelor so attractive and so amiable that no woman could be found on the island who was worthy of him. One had to be imported from abroad. The king dispatched canoes to other islands with orders to find Lo-Lale a suitable wife. The questers came up empty on Molokai and Lanai. But eventually, on Maui, they spotted a beauty named Kelea, kidnapped her, and brought her to Oahu. Lo-Lale fell in love at first sight and proposed straightaway. Kelea didn’t kill herself, which Lo-Lale took for a yes, and the wedding revelries lasted for a month.
A month! It sounded like hell to Dinah. She dreaded the fittings, dreaded another evening of verbal jabs and innuendo, most especially dreaded her date with the rock expert. When the best a man’s own father can say about him is that he isn’t a recluse, you know it’s going to be a long, grim night. And she’d probably be stuck with him again the following night, as well. On the bright side, a boring disquisition on the geochemical composition of rocks would be restful compared to last night’s crossfire.
For such an attractive and amiable fellow, Xander seemed to arouse more than his fair share of hostility. Eleanor had emitted an almost palpable loathing for “dat buggah.” His comments about her carried more frustration than heat, but there’d been a twitchy look in his eyes when he asked Claude Ann to keep her head down. The word “hunted” sprang to mind.
And what was up between Xander and Raif? Raif’s illicit gambling clearly rankled Xander and Xander made no secret of his view that Raif was not a model husband. That dig about some race car drivers not behaving well when away from home had struck a nerve with Lyssa. There was no doubt that she and her father had argued about Raif before. Maybe Raif mooched off Lyssa and gambled away what he mooched. It was no surprise that Lyssa would go to bat for her husband. Even so, her insinuating malice toward Xander jarred. What had she meant about it not being a mystery why Raif was scared of volcanoes? Had she been thinking of some previous discussion about the unidentified man who’d been cooked alive in a steam vent?
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