“But why all the subterfuge? Why not just tell Amanda the engagement was off, and go on your way?”
“Oh my dear, it wasn’t just Amanda I needed to elude.”
Now it was my turn to look like I was straining to hear that worm.
He went on. “I had to get away from George, and the feds he’d called in to hound me. After all these years, can you imagine? One little slip and he alerts the FBI.”
“What’s the FBI got to do with it?”
“You’ve never heard of the Art Crime Team of the FBI? They’re lunatic. I was facing decades in federal prison, along with losing everything I own to pay the fines.”
“Why did you agree to see me today? I could report you.”
“My dearest girl,” he said. “No disrespect, but I hardly think the federal authorities would take you seriously. I asked you here today because I thought I owed you money. I may be a crazy old man to go after a nubile young thing such as Amanda, but I am not a deadbeat.”
“What about Lono?” I said. “His death is on you. You set him up.”
“How so?”
“You gave him all that cash he couldn’t account for. Then, you made sure Amanda witnessed him pushing you in the pool before you faked your death, making him liable for manslaughter. He’s already on parole for another manslaughter conviction, did you know that?”
“Oh, my,” he said. “You make me sound so cunning. I may have heard some talk of him being on parole, but I certainly don’t feel responsible for his suicide.”
“But if you knew he was on parole, you must have realized he’d be sent back to prison if he was charged with your death.”
“Ah, good point. Perhaps he should’ve weighed that consequence before he had sex with my fiancé.” His lips drew up in a thin smile.
So, he knew.
I thanked him for his time and left. I sat in the Sentra for almost ten minutes before starting the car. I was not quite ready to go back and face my own consequences with Hatch. But then, I knew I never would be.
CHAPTER 31
Hatch was offered the job right on the spot. It seems they’d interviewed the other candidates earlier in the week, so they were in a position to make an immediate offer. He told me he openly discussed his desire to make captain ASAP with them, and they were impressed with his drive and his “healthy ambition.” They dazzled him with a sizable raise, moving expenses, and even relocation assistance in finding a house and shipping his truck to the mainland.
“So, did you take it?” I said.
“I told them I had to talk it over with my fiancée,” he said.
“I really don’t want to move,” I said.
“But babe, I’ll be making so much more money, we can live close to the water. Maybe Redondo Beach or even Seal Beach, if you want. I don’t mind commuting.”
“I just drove in LA traffic and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” I said. I hadn’t slipped; it was time to come clean.
“What? I thought you said you were gonna read your book by the pool while I was gone.”
“Yeah. Well, I didn’t.”
I told him the whole twisted story of Richard and Amanda and Lono, and how they’d betrayed each other in an intricate dance of lies and deceit.
“Speaking of deceit,” he said in a steely voice that put the GPS lady to shame. “Is that the only reason you came with me to LA?”
“What? You mean to talk to Richard?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even nod.
“Okay, maybe I was a little sneaky about it. But I didn’t want us to have a fight. When I learned Richard was probably still alive, I had to check it out.”
“And you let me pay your way,” he said. “Even then, you didn’t tell me the truth.”
“What’s the big deal? I offered to get my own ticket. You wouldn’t let me. See? This is the fight I didn’t want to have before you went in for your interview.”
“Well, at least thanks for that,” he said.
“What do you want to do?” I said.
“I think you’ve already made your decision, Pali, and I’ve got to honor it. I still love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I started to twist the engagement ring off my finger, and he reached over and stopped me.
“Keep it. I don’t want it back. You said you love me; and there’s no need to rush things. Maybe after I’m gone, you’ll change your mind. I hope to God you do.”
I’d never loved him more than I did at that moment.
***
I returned to Maui alone. Hatch had gone back to our room and called LA City Fire to tell them he’d accept their offer, and he’d like to start looking for houses right away. The next morning they sent a relocation specialist to take him around town and show him some homes. I met her in the lobby as I was on my way out to the airport. She was early thirties, blond, with a nice figure and a wide Crest-strip smile. It looked like the big city fire department knew exactly how to keep their new hires happy.
As usual, Steve picked me up at the Kahului airport. He made a good show of hand patting and frown-face “Sorry’s”—so much so that I had to ask him to put a lid on it.
“But it’s just a moratorium, right?” he said. “I mean, you didn’t totally throw him over.”
“I might as well have,” I said. “He’s not gonna wait forever.”
“So, what is it with you?” Steve said. “You’d think with your job, you’d be all chomping at the bit to get married.”
“Yeah, you’d think so.”
***
Steve said he needed to make a quick stop at the Gadda da Vida on the way back. When we went in, I was shocked to see Farrah behind the front counter.
“What are you doing here?” I sputtered.
“I work here,” she said with a grin. “In fact, word on the street is I own this groovy joint.”
I ran behind the counter and gave her a tight hug. She hugged me back, and kissed my cheek.
“Where are the keiki?” I said.
“Down on the boat. They got sprung earlier than we thought. The doc said they’d both made awesome progress, and they were free to boogie. I’m going back down there now, but I wanted to be here when you got back.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Sorry about you and Hatch. Steve told me.”
“It’s okay. We’re just taking some time to be sure.”
“So, you’re not moving to LA?”
“No,” I said.
“Not ever?”
“We both know I can’t promise that.”
She checked the Fritz the Cat clock on the wall.
“Gotta boogie,” she said. “Have you heard? I’m the new poster girl for Dairy Queen.”
She pointed to her breasts, which were well concealed by the soft folds of her mu’u mu’, but looked impressive nonetheless.
“Hey,” she went on. “Since I’m now doing cow-duty, do you think I’d be a deity in India? You know, they’re totally into cows there. They’re like, gods or something.”
I assured her the people of India would love her, regardless.
Steve had quietly slipped down one of the grocery aisles after the first mention of lactation, but when Farrah called to him he hustled back. He said he’d be happy to take her down to Lahaina and asked if I wanted to ride along. I declined, promising Farrah I’d come down later to visit.
I went next door to my shop and got on the phone. I bought a ticket on the early flight to Moloka’i the next morning. I could’ve gone that afternoon, but I needed time to think.
***
George picked me up at the Moloka’i airport. I thought he’d send a minion, but he came himself in his black Land Rover. On the way to Malama’s I told him I’d talked to Richard and he’d confessed to faking his death, to rid himself of Amanda and to beat the federal charges for art forgery.
“Do you know where he is?” he said.
“I’m not sure,” I lied. I’d wanted to put his mind at ease about his l
ong-time partner and friend still being alive, but I’m not a snitch.
“You know,” he said. “If I told the feds I have good reason to believe he’s alive, they could probably locate him in pretty short order.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because he besmirched our company name. He’s a liar and a cheat.”
“He made a mistake,” I said. “How about you? Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
“Plenty,” he said. “But I didn’t drag my friends down with me.”
“He said he was sorry about that,” I said. I wasn’t sure if Richard really was sorry, but I was there to mend fences, so it didn’t seem that wrong to hammer in a few false nails.
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh. “And turning him in won’t do much to restore my reputation.”
“Yes. It’s probably best to just let it go.”
He paused for a moment. “But I hold him completely responsible for Lono’s death. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to forgive him for that.”
“Neither will I,” I said.
And that was the bitter truth.
EPILOGUE
I wish I had a better gift for giving bad news, but afterward, George Bustamante told me I’d done a good job. Malama cried when I explained the events that led to her son’s death, even though I delicately left out the part about the unfortunate assignation between Leonard and Amanda. It was enough for her to know that Lono had been given the money freely, and that her son hadn’t harmed Richard in any way.
I told a half-truth story at the Kaunakakai Police Station about talking by phone with Richard Atkinson. I asked that they clear the late Leonard A’amakualenalena’s name of any suspicion of manslaughter, given that Richard was still very much alive. I don’t know if they believed me or not, but the detectives I spoke to seemed fine with making life a bit easier for Malama by closing the case. Again, I erred on the side of discretion by not mentioning anything about the feds and the art forgeries. I figured I’d leave it to the FBI to track him down if they got wind of his faked death—not my circus, and certainly not my monkey.
I left Moloka’i that afternoon wishing I’d been able to experience that part of Maui County under happier circumstances. For me, the island has an authenticity and a sense of earthy realism that I find lacking in most of Hawaii today.
As the tiny plane took off for Maui, I rubbed the dent on my left ring finger and marveled at the white mark that had bloomed there after only a few months. Before heading out over the ocean, the plane circled the vast fields of green and gold and I consoled myself by vowing to not wait another twenty-five years before coming back. Maybe I’d volunteer to help Sifu Doug at the Moloka’i kid’s tournament. After all, for the next three months, my calendar was pretty much empty.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Originally, I wasn’t going to write a book set on Moloka’i. I’d heard all sorts of trash talk about the place, and I didn’t want to spend the necessary time on the island that it would take to write a story with “local color.” But local color is what readers have come to expect in the “Islands of Aloha Mystery Series.”
My friend, Gail Ballantyne, set me straight. Moloka’i is her favorite island, and she’s been to them all. She encouraged me to at least give it a shot. So, I did. What I found there is a place of beauty, peace, and haunting memories.
If you’re up for a little adventure, and you’re okay with things a little more “down-home” than “up-scale,” then I think you’d enjoy a visit. Go for a day, or two, or a week. You don’t have to ride the mules down to Kalaupapa—there’s a fifteen minute plane trip that ends up at the same place.
I’m glad I didn’t listen to the harpies, and I hope you’ll agree.
By way of thanks, I’d like to start by thanking Gail Ballantyne, for nudging me forward. And I’d like to send a big mahalo nui to Darrell Duvauchelle, of the “Moloka’i Duvauchelles,” who spent many a bored teenager summer on Moloka’i, but still smiles when remembering the good family times (and enormous shower-house spiders) there. I’d also like to send a warm aloha to Tom and Karyl of Moloka’i Komohana Bed & Breakfast in Maunaloa. We truly enjoyed their “Friendly Island” hospitality and I appreciated hearing their stories of the island and its people. And many thanks to John, our tour guide at Damien Tours, for an incredible day on the Kalaupapa Peninsula. I’d also like to give a shout-out to the mule skinners of Moloka’i Mule Ride, for getting me up and back “topside” in one piece. I’m not going to send my mahalo to my mule, Ilikea, who really was the epitome of “stubborn as a mule,” but I’ll acknowledge that at least she gave me something to write about.
I’d also like to thank my “beta” readers, who point out the typos, non-sequiturs, and all-around boo-boo’s: Diana Paul, Tom Haberer, and Francesca Moses Schelenski.
And where would I be without you, my readers? As Farrah would say, “bummed out.” So, mahalo to each and every one of you who’ve been with me as we’ve followed Pali Moon around the islands.
I especially want to thank the following readers who’ve offered encouragement, support, and reviews! I couldn’t do it without you:
Sandy Parkhill
Marcie Grover
Felice Brodsky
Sandy Burke
Melissa Perkins Simmons
Robin Kelly
Diane Tosney
Montgomery County Gym
Cindi Grey
Sue Evans Miller
Tamara Stark
Mary Ann Alger
Linda Lang
Wendy Lester
Sue Cook Goodwin
Linda Mitchell
Kukana Kalewe
Sheryl Wetmore
Now on to one final adventure: we’ll be going back to the Big Island for “Hilo, Good-bye.”
Other books by JoAnn Bassett:
The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series
Maui Widow Waltz
Livin’ Lahaina Loca
Lana’i of the Tiger
Kaua'i Me a River
O’ahu Lonesome Tonight?
I’m Kona Love You Forever
The Escape to Maui Series
Mai Tai Butterfly
Visit JoAnn Bassett’s website at: www.joannbassett.com
“Like” her Facebook page at: JoAnn Bassett’s Author Page
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