Bet Your Bones

by Jeanne Matthews

  Dinah said, “The police think there may be a connection between Raif’s murder and the murder of that archaeologist, Patrick Varian, who was found murdered in a steam vent. I wonder if Eleanor Kalolo could have hired him to authenticate her claim that the bones of one of her ancestors are buried on the Uwahi property.”

  “Eleanor? Great Scott, hadn’t thought of it.” His eyes blinked rapidly, like the shutter of a camera shooting multiple frames per second. But whether it was her question that perturbed him or he was having one of his normal hyperkinetic fidgets, she couldn’t tell. “Expensive proposition, hiring an archaeologist. Can’t see it would do her much good. Most of ’em talk gibberish. Layers and mounds and articulations.”

  Steve came through the door along with a blast of frenzied accordion music and a drunken chorus singing, “Someone stole the keeshka, someone call the cop.” An older man in a business suit followed him in.

  “Great Scott, it’s Norris Frye. Running for Senate. Must introduce him to Jarvis.” Avery practically vaulted out of his seat and rushed off to greet the newcomer.

  Steve returned and handed her half a glass of wine on a soggy pink napkin. “Sorry it took so long. It’s wild out there.”

  “So I see.”

  He sat down and quaffed the foam off his beer. “They’re almost out of Garst on draft.”

  “I understand that Xander owns stock in the brewery.”

  “I don’t know now. He’s sold off a lot of his investments to finance Uwahi.”

  “He’s comfortably well-off, rich by most standards. Why has he staked everything he owns on this one deal?”

  “He owns some choice real estate, but land values went south just as he was approaching retirement. His Garst stock was in the toilet and I’m sure his U.S.G.S. pension wouldn’t begin to keep him in the style he’s grown used to. He probably felt vulnerable and then this golden opportunity came along. He didn’t plan on staking everything, but putting all the pieces together turned out to be more costly than he’d anticipated and the deeper he got in, the harder it became to cut his losses and get out.”

  With his fortune and Claude Ann’s on the line, Dinah could see how Uwahi was all-important to Xander. But why did Steve sound so serene? Did he have nothing at stake? “I know that you and Jon are longtime friends, but how did you and Xander become business partners?”

  “My father, Louis, was a U.S.G.S. scientist. He and Avery and Xan were at the U together back in the seventies and our families were all close. After I finished law school in California, I came back to Hawaii to take care of my mom. At the time, Xander was trying to arrange a land swap so he could acquire Uwahi and he hired me to do the legal stuff. I was brilliant, of course, so when Avery came into the deal, Xan recommended me as legal counsel. Avery one-upped him and made me a partner in the company.”

  “Did you have to put up money for Uwahi?”

  “No. Avery and Xander have been very generous to me. I’ll get a token share of the sale price when the deal closes, but mostly I bill by the hour. I have other clients. My office is down in Pahoa and I live upstairs. Pahoa is a great little town. It’s in kind of a time warp, lots of hippies and New Agers and eccentrics and the air redolent of pakalolo.”

  “Pot?”

  “The best. If you get down that way, drop by and I’ll roll you a joint to round out your experience of the island.”

  “I wouldn’t think an upstanding attorney like yourself would risk getting caught smoking dope.”

  “I don’t smoke with just anyone.” There was an invitation to something more than pakalolo in his twinkling blue eyes.

  Dinah smiled and placed a rendezvous in Pahoa in the Rain Check section of her brain. “Jon told me that your father drowned at a conference in California.”

  “That’s right, on the same day Jon and Lyssa lost their mom. Afterward, Xan included me whenever he took his kids fishing or camping or sailing. He took us all to Yosemite one summer. Lyssa used to contrive all kinds of schemes to get Xander and my mother together, but it didn’t work out.”

  Dinah thought about the phone call that triggered Leilani’s suicide. “It was an amazing coincidence, the two of them dying, drowning actually, on the same day.”

  “No kidding. Over the last twenty years, Jon and Lyssa and I have wasted many hours chewing over the coincidence of their deaths. We never made a connection. Sometimes, a coincidence is just a coincidence.”

  “Steve, I don’t mean to delve into painful memories, but why would Jon keep a newspaper article about your father’s death behind a photo of Xander?”

  “Does he need a reason? I don’t know. People put things where they put them and half the time they forget where or why. I probably have an article somewhere about Jon’s mom’s suicide.”

  “Did you ever think your father’s death might not have been accidental?”

  He seemed to deliberate. “A long time ago the thought entered my overheated young mind. But facts are facts. He had a few too many, he fell and hit his head against the edge of the pool, and he died. There was a woman on a float who paddled across the pool and tried to save him, but he went under and she couldn’t swim.” He took a slow sip of beer. “Scuttlebutt has it that the lady who couldn’t swim was my father’s roommate.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’ve never told my mother. I don’t know how she’d feel about it, but there’s no sense dredging up his infidelities at this late date.”

  Dinah pondered the arbitrary nature of the cosmos. Coincidences happened. Doppelgangers, synchronicities, flukes of all kinds. But they didn’t happen in swarms, like earthquakes. “It’s another amazing coincidence that only a few days ago an archaeologist was murdered in the same way as Raif?”

  “They weren’t killed in the same way. Raif was shot.”

  “Don’t quibble. They were both pushed into fiery holes in the ground. Hellholes.”

  “From what I understand, hell opened up coincidentally under Raif’s body.”

  “All right, all right. Maybe that was a coincidence. Patrick Varian wasn’t by any chance the archaeologist you hired to evaluate Uwahi, was he?”

  “No. Our archaeologist is very much alive and still sending us bills.”

  Jon left the table of U.S.G.S. oldtimers and drifted over to chat with Avery and Xander. Xander shoved purses and wraps aside for him and he sat down next to Paul Jarvis. Maybe Xander thought Jarvis should hear from a leading light in volcanology that Uwahi was safe from volcanic flows. She wondered if anyone from SAX Associates had apprised Jarvis that ancient Hawaiian bones might lie under his proposed development. Wouldn’t they have an ethical obligation to disclose the information?

  “Steve, what do you know about Eleanor Kalolo’s claim against Uwahi?”

  “So far, she hasn’t filed a claim, although she’s hired an attorney. He called me a few weeks back alleging that there were bones in a lava cave on the property.”

  “Not just any bones,” said Dinah. “The bones of a king.”

  “The alleged bones of an alleged king.”

  “Did her attorney say she’d hired her own archaeologist?”

  “No, but it was under consideration. Xan and Avery and I discussed the matter and we’re standing by our guy’s findings. No human remains. Not so much as a fragment. His Highness’ bones are a figment of Eleanor’s imagination, or a ploy to extort money from SAX.”

  “Shouldn’t you inform Mr. Jarvis of the risk of bones?”

  “Not if no claim has been filed. It’s up to his lawyers to exercise due diligence and lay out the potential risks for him.”

  “Do you suppose his lawyers hired Varian?”

  “If they did, I’m sure they would’ve informed the police. Jarvis has big plans for development here in Hawaii. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his squeaky clean image.�
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  Jarvis sat forward, head down, apparently all ears while Jon talked.

  Dinah wished she could read lips. “If Eleanor’s right and bones are found, what would that mean to your sale?”

  “There are always obstacles to buying and selling land in Hawaii. Ownership rights aren’t as unambiguous here as they are in the rest of the country. The law grants Native Hawaiians usage rights for certain protected practices, but there’s no definitive list of those practices. It could be anything. Somebody like Eleanor with a Hawaiian pedigree and a bee in her bonnet can claim that a piece of property has some cultural or religious history and a buyer and his lenders can find themselves screwed at the last minute and unable to get title insurance. It’s buyer beware.”

  “Akahele,” said Dinah. “Watch your step.”

  Across the room, Johnny Cash burst into “I fell in to a burning ring of fire.” Jon pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked away from the group, looking uneasy. In a minute, he returned and said something in Xander’s ear. In the murky, yellow light, Xander’s face morphed into a mask of misery. He stood up, kissed Claude Ann on the cheek, shook Jarvis’ hand, and conferred briefly with Avery.

  Jon walked across the room to Steve and Dinah. “Something’s come up. Will you give Dinah a ride back to the cottage after dinner, Steve?”

  “Of course. Not more bad news, I hope.”

  “No. No problem.”

  Dinah sank the last of her wine. She hated that expression.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dinah sat down and took off her shoes on Jon’s lanai. She breathed in deep drafts of the cool night air, looked up at the infinitude of stars, and decompressed. Her clothes reeked of cigar smoke, but she wanted a cigarette anyway. She dug inside her purse and found the Sincerely Yours. Tomorrow was to have been Claude Ann’s big day and Dinah had scheduled her return flight to Manila for the day following. Claude Ann had informed everyone at dinner that she and Xan planned to marry in a civil ceremony in a week or two, after the Uwahi closing and Raif’s funeral. Now that Dinah’s Mindinao study had been abandoned, she had no plans. She was, as her detective ex-boyfriend Nick was wont to say, in the wind.

  Once these awful murders had been solved, Hawaii wouldn’t be a bad place for a budding anthropologist to settle down and study. Her acquaintance with the soon-to-be Senator Norris Frye would stand her in good stead. At dinner he had talked her ear off about his friends in academia and Xander and Avery and Jon were all alums of the University. They might help her get her toe in the door. She didn’t have a Ph.D., but she had tons of practical experience and being part Native American never hurt. Maybe she could parlay her research on the customs of the T’Boli and the B’laan of Mindanao into some sort of internship. She conceded that at least part of her interest in staying on could have something to do with sex. She remained inexplicably attracted to Jon and, more explicably, to Steve.

  She put out her cigarette, took a last look at the stars, and pulled out her key. But she turned the knob and the door opened. In her haste, she’d forgotten to lock. She went in and locked it behind her, then headed for the shower. She walked into the bedroom and a hand sprang out of the darkness and clapped over her mouth like a vise.

  “Don’t yell, Dinah. I’m warnin’ you.”

  Wailing Jerusalem. It was Hank. The accent was unmistakable and the smell of his sour perspiration was even stronger than the smell of her smoked clothes.

  “I’m gonna let you loose now, but don’t yell, you hear?”

  She made a compliant mm hmm sound and tried to nod. Slowly his fingers relaxed and he moved his hand. “You can turn on the light if you want. Can’t anybody see in through all those trees.”

  Her heart was flapping like a wild bird in a net. She clicked on the bedside lamp and turned to look at him. He was gaunt and unshaven and the loose-fitting shirt he wore made him look like a scarecrow.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m tryin’ to atone. I know what I did was wrong. I don’t know what I was thinkin’. I was so damn mad. Claudy takin’ me to the cleaners and then givin’ my money away to some bozo with a slick line of bullshit. But I never meant to hurt her. I waited at the hospital ’til you left and followed you to that drive-in. I would’ve given you a ride back to the hotel, but I was afraid you’d holler and start a riot. Anyways, I eavesdropped on you and the deformed bub to find out if Claudy was all right.”

  Dinah’s heart rate slowed and her thoughts caught up with the situation. “You need to turn yourself in to the police, Hank, and get this mess straightened out. Don’t get yourself in worse trouble than you’re in already.”

  “You mean that boy that was killed? Phoebe told me about it. I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “You talked with Phoebe? When?”

  “Tonight while everybody was gone. I tried to talk to Marywave, but she wouldn’t come out of her room. She called me a fallen man and she’s right.” His knees buckled and he dropped into Jon’s chair and hung his head. “I should never have come out here, only Marywave was homesick and beggin’ me all th’ time to bring her home. She misses me and I miss her. How can I share custody with Claude Ann movin’ her way off to the middle of the ocean? Took me a whole day and half the night to get from Needmore to Atlanta to L.A. to Honolulu.”

  “Claude Ann’s not unreasonable, Hank. If you hadn’t tried to turn Marywave against her and written those letters, she’d be more accommodating.”

  “It’s my right and duty as a father to see what kind of a man she’s taken up with and I can tell you, he ain’t what she thinks. Claudy tells you stuff she doesn’t tell anybody else, stuff she doesn’t tell Phoebe. What does she say about how this Garst bozo gets along with Marywave?”

  “She thinks Marywave will come around to like him if you stop putting him down. And she told Phoebe one thing she didn’t tell me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That Claude Ann had lent him money. Phoebe’s been keeping you well informed, hasn’t she?”

  “Yeah, well, the money stuck in my craw. I’d have thought Claudy had more common sense.” His voice hoarsened. “But there’s other stuff Claudy tells you and I’ve gotta ask. I know she had a thing for Wes Spencer, but when we married, she said that was over and done. She said she wanted a dependable man who’d cherish her and take care of her. She acted like I was the one. Have I been her chump for all these years?”

  Despite his bloody-mindedness, Dinah felt a twinge of sympathy for Hank. It couldn’t have been easy appeasing his homegrown Aphrodite over the years, living with the ghost of Wesley Spencer and the awareness of smalltown opinion that Claude Ann could have done a lot better for herself. She said, “You weren’t a chump if you loved her. You got the girl you wanted.”

  “I’d have chosen her over God if she’d have stayed. That’s my sin and I’m damned for it. Damned and beat out by the likes of Xander Garst. He’s phony as a rubber wiggler. I can’t believe she went for him hook, line, and sinker.”

  “Why do you say he’s phony?”

  “Consortin’ with other women for one thing. I followed him into town today and saw him pick up a blonde. And him supposed to marry Claudy tomorrow mornin’. What kind of a life is he gonna lead her?”

  Dinah sat down on the bed and tried to collect her wits. “You stalked Xander from the airport today?”

  “Call it what you will. I saw what I saw.”

  “Which was what, exactly?”

  “He drove into Hilo and went into a travel agency.”

  “He was probably picking up their airline tickets for their honeymoon trip to Bali.”

  “You think I’m such a hick I don’t know how to pick up airline tickets? I know you don’t have to go sit in your car for a half hour with a big-breasted blonde negotiatin’ the price.”

 
This tidbit tore through Dinah’s brain like a bullet. Tess Wilhite worked at a travel agency in Hilo. Was this yet another coincidence? “Did Xander and the blonde go to a big, fancy house somewhere down by Kapoho Point?”

  “Nah, she went back inside the agency and he left by hisself. I’d seen enough. I drove on up here to Volcano and found a motel. I need to talk to Marywave and Claudy. I have to find a way to tell ’em I’m sorry. Claude Ann won’t believe anything I tell her about Garst. Will you try and talk some sense into her, Dinah? We can’t let her throw her life away on a user like Garst.”

  Dinah got up and started into the kitchen. “I’m going to brew us a pot of strong coffee. Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll find you one of Jon’s shirts to wear. Both of us need to take a few minutes to think about this.”

  The floor juddered.

  “Jerusalem!”

  Hank dropped to his knees. “It’s the End.”

  “No, Hank. It’s only an earthquake.” She crouched in the corner farthest from the window and rode the waves. Since when had “it’s only an earthquake” become a comforting thought?

  Hank stayed on his knees and prayed. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

  The shaking stopped. Dinah felt a spasm of regret. When the earth is shaking like a wet dog, survival is the only concern. Everything else is on hold. There was a lot to be said for crouching in a corner. She sensed she was going to miss it. Reluctantly, she got up and dusted off her hands. “Hawaii’s an adventure, isn’t it, Hank? Always something going on.”

  “Earthquakes and hellfire bubblin’ up out of th’ earth. It’s God’s wrath comin’ down. Have you seen the signs? Pele’s Revenge, Hawaiians for Obama. This place is full of false gods and idolaters. Beware them that forget the Lord. Beware and take heed lest ye also fall.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Dilemma, tri-lemma. Dinah put her head down on the kitchen table and banged it several times, but no happy solution fell out. Her instinct told her that Hank didn’t kill Raif, but Hank was an odd duck with an obsession about stopping the wedding and no alibi for the time of the murder. The question of when the Beretta had been taken was problematic. Langford could clear that hurdle without breaking a sweat. Hank had been in Honolulu for several days before Claude Ann noticed it was missing. The cops would assume he had gained admittance to her suite on more than one occasion. They would assume he’d mistaken Raif for Xander, or even that he had intended to pick off the members of the Garst party one at a time.