Windsurfers
By the time I left William’s tree house, the sun was hanging low in the sky. I turned the BMW onto Hana Highway and aimed the car towards Kanapali.
Before I reached the little town of Paia, I spotted at least fifty cars jammed into a tiny parking lot just beside the road. I passed the parking lot, then decided to pull over to the side of the road to see what had drawn such a large group. I hopped out of the car and walked to the edge of the cliff.
In the ocean below were windsurfers, dozens of them. Some of the windsurfers looked to be professional too, based on the incredible acrobatic maneuvers I was witnessing.
I walked back to my car to retrieve my camera and the little tourist guide book I had purchased at Barnes and Noble before my trip. I wanted to see what this beach was called and whether or not they had any information on the windsurfers.
I pulled the book out of the glove compartment and leaned against the side of the car. The beach was called Ho’okipa, and it was known as the windsurfing capital of the world. The book warned beginners to stay away. Apparently, experienced local windsurfers will have no hesitation in escorting you off the waters.
I tossed the guide book on the passenger seat and got ready to take some photographs with my Nikon. I believe it was the comedian George Carlin who said he prefers interests over hobbies because hobbies are expensive. Well, photography has been my hobby for the last couple of years. I figured once I got past the initial purchase of the camera and lenses I would be okay money-wise. I figured wrong. The more you get into photography the more you realize you want and need a variety of lens. Once you start seeing the results of your work, you also realize that you want and need photography lessons. I signed up for a couple of black and white photography classes at a local museum. It’s the classic adage of the more you learn the more you come to realize you don’t know anything. That said, I feel completely comfortable saying I really don’t know that much about photography. I do know that if you keep your pictures in focus and properly exposed, you’re half-way to winning the battle.
I haven’t bought a powerful zoom lens yet, so I decided to walk down to the beach to get some close-up shots of the windsurfers. The zoom lens I fantasize about costs upwards of five thousand dollars. I can afford it, but can’t bring myself to spend the money. I shot about fifty to seventy-five shots, then plopped down on the sand to reflect on my day of investigating.
I didn’t see that I was making much progress. Both Xavier and William confirmed that Lauren was stealing Nick’s ideas, but I already knew that, and I wasn’t really searching for confirmation.
My gut told me that neither Xavier nor William were the killers. William was a guy who was forced to live in a tree house for five years and didn’t seem the least bit upset by it. And Xavier was so eccentric that I couldn’t imagine him killing Lauren with a simple dinner knife. Undoubtedly he would have come up with a much more creative way to kill her, like running over her with his golden chariot.
I remembered the old days when I would struggle with an architectural design. Usually all I needed was a short break to get my mind off work. The solutions to my problems would always come during times of leisure, when my mind was at ease. Maybe that’s what I needed now, a diversion.
I retrieved my cell phone from inside the car and called William. Hopefully he would be in the tree house and not tending his garden. The phone rang several times. I kept waiting for an answering machine to cut on. I almost hung up when a breathless William said, “Hello.” I hoped he wasn’t breathless because I had interrupted him having sex with Betty Boop.
“William, this is Poe.”
“Hello,” he panted. “Let me catch my breath. I had to climb up the ladder to answer the phone. I really need to get one of those cordless models.”
I cringed, knowing that I had caused him to drop his gardening shovel and dash up the wooden ladder. “I’m sorry about that, William.
But I had just one more question for you. I was wondering if you could tell me where you and Detective Hu go surfing.”
CHAPTER 13
Surfing Lessons
Foxx wasn’t kidding when he said he owned a long board. The damn thing was almost as long as his SUV. Luckily, it wasn’t that heavy, just awkward. I lifted it to the roof of his Explorer, whacking myself in the head a couple of times in the process, and tied it down with bungee cords.
I turned on the headlights and headed out into the darkness. I was a little surprised when William told me he and the detective always surfed before the sun rose. My body wanted me to sleep in, but I knew I needed to get more time with the detective. One of the things that surprised me about Maui was how dark it was at night. I know that sounds like a silly thing to say, but you’d be surprised just how bright your home town is with street lights and houses and stores. There were no street lights in this part of Maui, and the darkness was completely enveloping.
I popped an audio book CD into the car stereo and cranked up the volume. I had been listening to a fiction book about pirates on the flight over from Los Angeles - Birds of Prey, by Wilbur Smith. I highly recommend it. I thought about pirates as I navigated the winding road that ran along the ocean. Can you imagine what this island must have been like when pirates first came here? Sometimes I fantasize about living during the times of high adventure. But then I think about the lack of air conditioning, and I’m completely brought back down to earth.
I found the beach William described without any difficulty. There were about half a dozen cars and trucks parked at the edge of the sand. I recognized one of them as the detective’s. It was at that point that I considered turning around and heading home. What would her reaction be when she realized I had followed her out here? But I wanted to find out what she was thinking about Foxx. I also didn’t want to come on too strong and piss her off.
There were a few people out surfing, but it was still so dark that I had difficulty seeing anything but shadows on surfboards. I made my way into the waves and silently prayed to the Hawaiian gods that they’d save me from my own foolishness.
I struggled to paddle the long board. My arms barely reached off the sides of the board, making it painfully difficult to advance across the water. The wax on the board was cutting into my chest, and it finally dawned on me why surfers where those skin-tight shirts. As I write this, it’s becoming painfully obvious that I am a complete baby.
I looked up and saw a woman staring at me with disbelief. As I got closer to her I realized it was the detective. I had gotten lucky this morning.
“Mr. Rutherford, what a surprise.”
“Good morning, detective. Funny seeing you out here.”
“So, in addition to being an amateur detective, you’re also a surfer,” she stated rather than asked.
“Hey, we have waves in Virginia, too,” I managed to squeeze out, trying desperately not to sound as winded as I felt.
“Out of all the places to surf in Maui, you just happened to come to the very spot I did?” she asked.
“Pure coincidence, I assure you.”
“Or did you call William to find out where I’d be?”
“Why would I call William?” I asked, pretending to sound shocked.
“Because he mentioned to you yesterday that he and I go surfing together.”
“Funny, I don’t recall that part of the conversation.” I gave her my best smile, but it didn’t seem to thaw her ice.
A wave was coming our way, and she took off paddling. She stood up on the board with a grace and elegance I did not think possible and road the wave into shore. She hopped off the board and made a gentle splash in the water. She turned the board around and started to paddle back my way.
Sooner or later I would have to try to ride a wave. But I’m the type of guy who sometimes loses his balance tying his shoelaces. She pulled up beside me and looked back towards another large wave headed out way.
“Why don’t you take this one?” she encouraged me.
I
took off paddling like a mad man and seemed to be doing okay until I attempted to stand up. My arms went flailing around like an injured bird, and I went over backwards, hitting the water with a loud splat.
I headed into the water upside down, the salt water rushing up my nose and down the back of my throat. Fortunately, I’m a strong swimmer, so I had little difficulty breaking the surface of the water. I coughed up the water, but at least half of it came out my nose. I don’t want to gross you out, but I was pretty sure I had a huge thing of snot hanging out my nose. I ducked underwater and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Yes, I know, it was disgusting. But would you have wanted me paddling back to the attractive detective with a monster booger sticking out of my nostrils?
Completely mortified by my lack of surfing prowess, I pointed the surfboard in her direction and paddled back. She was doing a lousy job of suppressing her laughter.
“Nice technique. Do all guys from Virginia surf that way?”
“I could offer you lessons if you’d like. Only fifty bucks an hour,” I responded in a serious tone.
Another large wave was heading our way, but she made no attempt to ride it.
“Who do you intend to interview today?” she asked.
“What makes you think I’ll be interviewing anyone?” I tried to act smooth but then I went into another fit of coughing from the swallowed salt water.
“Are you all right?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Just fine.” I continued to hack away. “Thanks for asking, though.”
“Did you learn anything interesting from William or Xavier?”
“You mean other than the fact one lives in a tree house and the other a stone pyramid?”
She laughed. It was a delicate, pleasant sound that was delightful to hear finally.
“We do have some interesting characters on the island. I guess that’s why I love my job so much.”
“I don’t think either of them are guilty of anything except maybe belonging to the Can’t-Stand-Lauren-Rogers club,” I added.
“I’m going to be talking to Ray and Stephanie London today. Care to join me?”
“Did I just hear you correctly? You’re inviting me to tag along?”
“Well, I assume you’re going to talk to them at some point. At least this way we’re only bothering them once.”
“So are you open to the idea that Foxx is innocent?”
“Don’t misunderstand my intentions, Mr. Rutherford. I still think he’s guilty. But what kind of detective would I be if I was closed-minded?”
“I’d be delighted to go with you,” I said, suddenly very aware of the fact I used the word ‘delighted.’ Why did I seem to constantly make a fool out of myself around her?
“Do you know where the K-Mart is near the airport?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be in the parking lot around nine. You can follow me out.”
She took off paddling and caught the next wave. She rode the board with the same grace and fluidity as before.
By now, the sun was starting to rise. I watched her as she carried her board out of the water and headed back towards her car. The low sun hitting her from the side would have made a terrific photograph.
I sat there for at least another ten minutes and watched the sun rise above the ocean. It was the color of blood, and it made me think of that terrible scene of Lauren lying on the cold pavement behind the art gallery. There was so much natural beauty on this island. Maybe that’s why the murder was so shocking: such a horrible act here in paradise.
Then I thought I saw a dorsal fin sticking out of the water, and I made a mad dash for the shore. I’m sure it wasn’t really a shark, probably just another shadow, but I’m also the guy who has seen Jaws about twenty times. Sometimes a vivid imagination is not such a good thing to have.
CHAPTER 14
Fairies, Dragons, and Humpback Whales
It was still a few hours till my meeting with the detective, so I decided to head out to the Iao Valley and take some photographs. I didn’t find many tourists at this time of the day, for which I was thankful. As promised, the Iao Valley was filled with photographic opportunities. There was one in particular that every tourist there seemed intent on capturing, the Iao Needle, a lush green peak that looked something like the point of a spear jutting out from the mountainside and threatening the sky. I bypassed this and headed down to the stream. I took off my shoes and slipped my feet in the water. It was freezing.
I aimed my camera and adjusted the shutter speed on my Nikon. My goal was to get the water to blend into one long, glassy surface. I know I’m not explaining it right. But by shooting on a slow shutter speed the water gets this soft-focus effect that really makes for a pleasing photograph. I took a few of those shots, hoping I had gotten the technique right.
I shot for a couple of hours and then decided I needed to make my way to the K-Mart. The detective’s car was already there. I pulled up beside her and nodded. She nodded back and then pointed in the direction we were to head. She drove slowly, so it was easy to follow her. We headed back in the direction of the windsurfers. After going around several sharp turns along the coast, we turned right into a secluded neighborhood.
Like Xavier’s house, Ray and Stephanie’s home was hidden behind a large wall of palm trees and thick vegetation. I parked behind the detective, and we climbed out of our cars. Alana seemed happy to be there. Maybe she was friends with Ray and Stephanie. We were immediately greeted at the edge of the driveway by the smiling face of an old clay surfer with oversized feet and hands and a prominent beer belly. The statue was at least three feet high and looked to be several years old for the colors were a bit faded and chipped. Ray and Stephanie’s yard reminded me of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. It wasn’t filled with chocolate and other candies, but it did possess a childlike fun and spirit.
Mythical clay creatures were staring at us everywhere we turned. A series of surfers on the backs of humpback whales lined the driveway. Fairies with giant silver wings frolicked in the flowerbeds. There was even a dog with an oversized wagging tail in the hanging basket beside the front door. The doorbell was surrounded by the face of a smiling dragon.
The front door opened, and we were greeted by one of the tallest women I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t a freak of nature by any means. But she did stand eye-to-eye with me, and I’m a good six foot two. Truth be told, she might have had an inch on me. Stephanie had long blond hair and a tanned, muscular body. This woman was an Amazon if I’ve ever seen one.
“Good to see you, Alana,” Stephanie said as the two women embraced. Stephanie easily dwarfed Alana’s tiny frame.
Then something quite humorous happened. Ray London stepped out from behind Stephanie. He had been standing there the whole time in the narrow hallway. But he was so short and thin that I couldn’t see him. If I had to guess I would say Ray was a good foot shorter than Stephanie. He was a very handsome man though, with brown eyes, brown hair and a thick goatee that had a slight bit of gray in it.
“You must be Poe,” Ray said, extending his hand to mine.
I didn’t ask him how he knew who I was. I assumed Alana had told him. But what else had she said?
The inside of the London house was also filled with the clay creatures. Several rectangular holes had been cut into the walls to form little showcases for the creatures to stand or sit in. Ray and Stephanie lead us into their living room. I was immediately attracted to some portraits of Ray and Stephanie on a table in their living room. Ray must have been standing on some phone books in the pictures because they appeared to be the same height. They were a very handsome couple indeed.
“Infrared?” I asked.
“Yes, how did you know?” Ray inquired.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with infrared photography, infrared film captures the heat emitted by a living object, such as a plant or tree or even a person. It gives this really cool glowing effect. Sometimes it can be used to
create scary looks, such as shooting a picture of a graveyard. The trees and grass around the gravestones will glow, not to mention the blue sky takes on a very dark, ominous look. But infrared film also creates neat portraits because it makes people’s skin glow.
“I experimented with infrared film in my photography class,” I explained to Ray. “It’s pretty tough to get an accurate exposure. I was only averaging three or four decent shots per roll.”
“We always get the nicest compliments from these portraits. I guess that’s why we’ve kept them out so long.”
We all sat and got down to business.
“Who else have you had a chance to talk to Poe?” Ray asked.
“I’ve met with Nick James, William Kelly, and Xavier.”
“How’s my old friend Nick?” Ray asked.
But the way he said friend indicated to me that he considered him anything but.
“He seemed thrilled with Lauren’s death. He also spent a great deal of time discussing his lawsuit against her. William and Xavier, on the other hand, didn’t have anything bad to say about her.”
“They wouldn’t. They actually have manners,” Stephanie commented.
“What did you think of Xavier’s home?” Ray asked.
“Unique and quite remarkable, to say the least,” I answered.
“I helped him build it. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life,” Ray said.
“I wish I could say ‘I can imagine,’ but I don’t think I can imagine an experience as unique as that.”
“Xavier’s like that rarest of athletes who could play at the highest level of any sport. I’ve never met anyone with as much raw talent as Xavier. If anyone should be suing anyone, it’s Xavier suing Nick,” Ray said.
“Xavier suing Nick? Why?” Alana asked.
“One thing you have to realize about Xavier is that he gets bored easily. Now Xavier mainly focuses on painting. But it wasn’t always like that. When I met him twenty years ago he was a master craftsman, building wooden sailing boats by hand. Celebrities and the social elite were snatching them up as fast as Xavier could make them. Then he simply got bored and stopped. Anyway, one day Xavier, Nick, and I are in a bar hanging out, and Xavier starts sketching this marine scene on a cocktail napkin. He tosses it on the table, laughing at the silliness of it all. But Nick and I take one look at this thing and go — Wow! No one’s ever done anything like it before. I encourage Xavier to run with it, but he’s not interested. Says it’s just a silly doodle. A couple of months later Nick debuts his new painting. Now the windbag’s prancing around telling everyone who will listen that he’s the father of marine art, when all he did was copy exactly what was on that napkin. The whole thing makes me sick.”
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