The Big Kahuna

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The Big Kahuna Page 5

by Janet Evanovich


  “I suppose you wouldn’t buy that I used my frequent flier miles.”

  “No.”

  “I might have told the airline I was planning to propose.”

  Kate stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Being engaged is central to my plan to find the Kahuna.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just central to your plan to get a free upgrade?”

  “Just a happy coincidence. We have only a short amount of time to cozy up to Hamilton and convince him to tell two complete strangers where to find his father. You can bet we’re not the only ones looking, so we need an edge—something to tilt the scales in our favor.”

  “I’m not sure how posing as a newly engaged couple is going to help.”

  “Trust me,” Nick said. “People like to feel like they’re in the presence of true love.” He made a head motion toward the two flight attendants talking and watching them. “That’s why we got the upgrade. That’s how we’re going to make a connection with Hamilton.”

  “I love my job. I love my family. I believe in commitment and taking responsibility for the people you care about. I’m not sure I believe in true love, at least not in a Disney princess kind of way.”

  “I don’t know about Disney, but the ancient Greeks thought there were four kinds of love. Storge, or familial love. Philia, or friendship. Eros, or romantic love, and agape, or unconditional love. Sounds to me like you’re already batting .750 in the love department. All you’re missing is a little passion. And who knows? That too just might someday sneak up on you, like a thief in the night.”

  “You don’t have any particular thief in mind, do you?” Kate asked. “Because the last time somebody snuck up on me, I put him in a choke hold.”

  Nick grinned. “Good to know.” He spread out a map of Maui on the tray table. “There are two areas on Maui where the best resorts are located, Lahaina on the western side and Wailea on the southern side.”

  “Do you think the Big Kahuna is staying in one of them?”

  “Possibly. I reserved a room for Cosmo at the Four Seasons in Wailea. He can pose as a tourist and snoop around. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find the Kahuna lounging by the pool or eating dinner at the hotel restaurant.”

  “What about Dad?” Kate asked.

  “I have him at the other five-star resort on the island, the Ritz-Carlton, near Lahaina. There are several popular surf spots on that part of the island. According to Cosmo’s research, the Big Kahuna likes to surf. He might not be able to resist trying one of them out.”

  “That leaves you and me.”

  “Right. We’re masquerading as a newly engaged couple, looking to move to Paia. I arranged a nice place for us to stay on the property that abuts Hamilton’s farm.” He handed a couple sheets of paper to Kate. “I also took the liberty of preparing our backstories.”

  Kate read through the first page. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “What?”

  Kate pointed at the paper. “My name is Rain. No last name. Just Rain. My occupation is candlemaker. We met on a communal farm, and it was love at first sight when you saw me riding my tractor topless through a hemp field.”

  “Those were some good times,” Nick said.

  Kate continued reading. “What the heck? You’re a big-wave surfer named Nicolas Lodeon. Why do you get a last name and a job that doesn’t involve hot wax?”

  “Hamilton’s cottage overlooks Peahi. It’s a really famous surf spot. The locals call it Jaws because the waves are huge and deadly. Hamilton surfs it almost every day, so it’s a good opportunity to meet him on his own turf where he’ll feel more comfortable. Do you know how to surf?”

  “No.”

  “That’s why you’re Rain, the candlemaker.”

  “Good grief. I’m going to sleep. Wake me when they serve the hot fudge sundaes or big, chewy cookies or whatever dessert they serve in first-class.”

  Kate woke up four hours later, just as the airplane was beginning its descent into Maui. A plate of long-cold chicken and rice sat on the tray table in front of her. Two empty sundae glasses were in front of Nick.

  “Did you eat my ice cream?”

  “Who, me?”

  “Someone ate it.”

  “You were asleep and it was melting. Would it help to smooth things over if I offered you my heated nuts?”

  “Absolutely not. Keep your heated nuts to yourself.”

  Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blue jewelry box. “Then how about this?”

  “Oh crap,” Kate said. “This better not be what I think it is.”

  Nick slid it over to Kate. “Only one way to find out.”

  Kate cracked the box and peeked inside. “It’s a diamond ring,” she said.

  “I’ve been saving it for just the right moment, like our pretend engagement.”

  “It’s huge.”

  “Miss Manners recommended I spend three months’ salary.”

  “You don’t have a job or a salary,” Kate said.

  “Yeah. It was a real bargain, practically a steal.”

  Kate fully opened the box and examined the ring. “It looks familiar.” She turned to Nick. “What the heck? This is the Crimson Teardrop diamond.”

  “Our first date,” Nick said. “You hit me with a bus when I was trying to borrow it from the Roland Larsen Kibbee museum. Then you arrested me, threatened me with prison, and forced me into a life of indentured servitude working for the FBI. The rest is history. Romantic, right?”

  “You consider that our first date?”

  “At the very least, it’s a pretty good ‘how we met’ story.”

  Kate snapped the box shut. “I should be mad, but truth is, it beats out topless tractor riding.”

  * * *

  —

  By 5:30 P.M. the plane had landed, Jake was in a Jeep Wrangler driving west to Lahaina, and Cosmo was in a Toyota Prius driving south to Wailea. Nick and Kate were standing in the airport’s long-term parking lot, staring at a partially refurbished 1978 Mr. Freezy ice cream truck with off-road tires and a surfboard rack mounted to its top.

  “Tell me again why you didn’t just rent a car from Avis?” Kate asked. “Where did you find this thing?”

  “Craigslist. The previous owner said it was slightly haunted so he gave me a really good price.” Nick ran his hand over the decals covering the sliding window on the side of the truck advertising Fudgsicles, Tasty Pops, shave ice, and assorted other ice cream novelties. “This van is the real deal. It’s the gold standard of bohemian transportation.”

  “You bought a haunted ice cream truck from some guy on Craigslist?”

  “Slightly haunted. Of course, he also tried to sell me some peyote, so there’s a remote possibility it might be just an ordinary ice cream truck.”

  Kate opened the driver’s door and slid onto the wood-beaded driver’s seat while Nick threw their luggage in the back with the ice cream freezers. She turned the ignition. The truck backfired, belched black smoke, and they were on their way, traveling east on the two-lane Hana Highway toward Paia. The civilized two-lane road slowly grew progressively less civilized, leading them through green, if a little scrubby, pastures and into bohemian chic Spreckelsville, where a mixture of old-moneyed Hawaiian families and new-moneyed L.A. celebrities called home. The ten-thousand-foot-tall ancient shield volcano Haleakala loomed in the distance.

  “Paia is the next town,” Nick said. “Hamilton lives just about ten miles past it in Haiku-Pauwela.”

  Kate slowed down as she passed a sign saying “Welcome to Paia. Do Not Feed the Hippies.” Unlike Spreckelsville, the town was more bohemian than chic, with an eclectic mixture of coffee shops, natural food stores, yoga studios, surf shops, tattoo parlors, new age boutiques, and even a colorful Buddhist shrine. Glimpses of white sand and the blue waters of Paia Bay p
eeked through alleyways separating storefronts. Locals and tourists mingled together, chilling out in low-key restaurants and meandering through the streets.

  “It has a good vibe,” Kate said. “It’s like stepping back in time forty years ago before the world sped up.”

  Nick nodded. “It’s a little sleepy at this time of the year. In the winter, the swells are larger and can reach as high as eighty feet. That’s when the top echelon of professional surfers and thrill seekers come to town.”

  Kate drove about a mile to the other side of town, where the highway dipped down to Hookipa Beach. Expert windsurfers and kitesurfers rode the waves, defying the laws of gravity, while a small crowd of onlookers watched from the sand.

  “It’s one of the best windsurfing spots in the world,” Nick said, “but there are dangerous rip currents and the occasional shark attack, so it’s not for beginners.”

  Just past the beach, the road curved inland, passing through lush green gulches thick with jungle and pastures covered in tall, swaying guinea grasses. On the right of the highway, rural side roads led to the misty mountains and rolling hills of Upcountry Maui and the agricultural communities of Kula and Makawao.

  Nick pointed to a one-lane dirt road nestled between two steep gulches on the seaward side of the highway. “This is our turn. The place we’re staying is a mile down.”

  Kate bumped along the road, which quickly degenerated into little more than a glorified cattle path. A feral pig and her three babies bolted across the road, and disappeared into the jungle on the other side.

  “I’m not sure this road is ice cream truck appropriate,” Kate said. “In fact, I’m not even sure this road is Jeep Wrangler appropriate.”

  “No matter. I think we’ve arrived,” Nick said, pointing at a makeshift sign fifty feet in front of them that read “Park Here. Pedestrian Access Only.”

  Kate stopped the truck, got out, and looked around. “I know people always say ‘We’re in the middle of nowhere’ when they’re lost, and most of the time it isn’t true. But we are literally in the middle of nowhere.”

  Kate and Nick followed the pedestrian path through a grove of bamboo before emerging onto a small patch of land fronted by an eighty-foot cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the white-capped waves of Peahi. A small white-domed canvas structure, decorated in Buddhist prayer ribbons and peace symbols, was perched on the cliffside. “You rented us a tent?” Kate said.

  “Technically, it’s a yurt.” Nick pointed at a small cottage, three hundred feet away, on the other side of the gulch. “And it has a direct line of sight over Hamilton’s place.”

  Kate opened the flap and peeked inside. It smelled heavily of sage incense, and the walls were covered in the owner’s original artwork, mostly watercolor paintings of her nude husband. An ancient television and DVD player sat on a wooden bench that was backed against one of the walls.

  “It looks small for two people,” Kate said.

  “It has a big bed.”

  “That’s great. For your sake, I’m hoping it also has a big couch.”

  Nick winked at Kate. “Gotcha. Saving yourself for our pretend marriage. That’s hot.”

  “Good grief. Do you have any more surprises for me?”

  Nick sat down on the bed. “You don’t like surprises?”

  “I like normal surprises, like a birthday party or my aunt coming over to visit.”

  “Would you consider my repacking your suitcase a normal surprise?”

  Kate opened her luggage and dumped the contents on the bed. “What the heck?” She held up a colorful full-length maxi dress. “What is this?”

  “It’s flowy and comfortable. The saleswoman at Free People said it was all the rage in bohemian chic fashion. It’s how Rain, the candlemaker, dresses.”

  “Where am I going to keep my gun?” She sorted through the rest of the clothes. “Seriously. All I’m seeing are fringy blouses, baggy cardigans, and cut-off shorts. Where are my jeans? Where are my T-shirts?”

  Nick looked at the pile. “What about these jeans overalls?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “They looked great on Demi Moore in Ghost,” Nick said. “And they have plenty of pockets and places to hide a gun.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Don’t worry. I asked Steven and Willow to pick them up at LAX and take them back to your apartment.”

  “Who are Steven and Willow?”

  Nick pointed at a painting on the wall of a forty-something man wearing nothing but a cape, hands on hips, chest out, looking off into the distance. “That’s Steven. He and his wife, Willow, own this yurt. You house-swapped with them.”

  “What?”

  “Funny story,” Nick said. “They’re staying in your place while we stay in theirs.”

  “Hippies are living in my apartment?” Kate blinked and stared at Nick. “And they have my clothes?”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much.” Nick flipped his chin toward the paintings on the walls. “I don’t think they much believe in clothes.”

  “Naked hippies are staying in my apartment?”

  “I thought about letting them stay in Jake’s place, but I didn’t want to make a bad first impression on my pretend future father-in-law.”

  “This plan better work.” Kate poked Nick in the chest. “Because if I don’t nab a kahuna, there’s going to be one more ghost haunting that ice cream truck.” Kate shoved a pair of military-grade thermal-imaging binoculars at Nick. “You have the first watch over Hamilton’s place. Wake me up if you see anything unusual.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Kate changed into a pair of loose-fitting tie-dyed pajamas with crochet trim. “I look ridiculous. Do you get some weird kick from making me crazy?”

  Nick opened the yurt’s flap, turned around to face Kate in the open door, and flashed her a crooked smile. “You have no idea.”

  7

  It was 2 A.M. when Kate woke up to relieve Nick and take the second watch over Hamilton’s house. She walked outside into the cool night air and listened to the sounds of trade winds blowing through the grasses. Except for a faint light from Hamilton’s place, a sliver of moon, and a thick blanket of stars, it was pitch-black. “Nick?”

  “Over here.”

  Kate followed his voice to a bench overlooking the ocean. “Anything happening?”

  “Hamilton came home by himself around eleven P.M. The light is still on, so it looks like he hasn’t gone to sleep yet.” He handed the binoculars to Kate. “Also, there’s a yacht anchored offshore. It’s been there for at least two hours. I was able to catch a glimpse of the stern, and it looked like the name is Carpe Diem.”

  Kate looked at the yacht through the binoculars. It was about fifty feet long, and it was bobbing like a top on the massive waves of Peahi. “It doesn’t look like a comfortable place to spend the night.”

  “It’s not. It’s probably the worst possible choice to anchor.”

  Kate watched as a motorized raft was dropped into the water from the side of the yacht. “Two guys are in a Zodiac, heading this way.” She focused the binoculars. “At least one of them has an assault rifle.”

  “It’s probably a safe bet they’re not looking for Steven and Willow,” Nick said. “There’s an old footpath, near where we parked, across the gulch. It leads to Hamilton’s farm. What do you think?”

  Kate grabbed a couple of flashlights from the yurt. “Let’s go. We probably have ten minutes or so before they reach shore, and another ten before they figure out how to scale the cliff.”

  Kate and Nick walked back through the ironwood trees and shone their flashlights into the gulch. “Is this the right place?” Kate asked. She pointed at the “Park Here. Pedestrian Access Only” placard.

  Nick focused his light on a small opening in the jungle. “
This is it.” He peered down through the opening into the gulch. “I think.”

  The path led Kate and Nick through a series of switchbacks before flattening near the bottom. Except for the sounds of a small stream and an occasional frog, it was eerily quiet. As they crossed the water, Kate looked to her left. A narrow waterfall cascaded over an eighty-foot escarpment to the tidal pools in the valley below. Down where the valley widened and emptied into the ocean, Kate could see a spotlight scanning the rocky beach.

  “The Zodiac found a landing spot,” Kate said. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  Nick and Kate scrambled through the brush, up the steep bank on the other side of the gulch, hopped a cattle fence, and emerged into a field covered in four-foot-high guinea grasses and about a hundred sleeping cows.

  A couple of cows in the distance startled awake, mooed a couple of times, and trotted away from where they had been sleeping near the cliff. A few seconds later, a rangy twenty-something with shoulder-length blond hair, wearing only board shorts and Crocs, appeared in the doorway of the cottage, looked out toward the cows, and scanned the field.

  Nick looked at Kate. “Who needs an alarm system when you have cows?”

  “That must be Hamilton,” Kate said, pointing at the rangy twenty-something. “He looks jumpy.”

  Hamilton aimed a handheld spotlight in the direction of the cows. The beam danced back and forth across ohia trees, cows, and pasture before finally coming to rest on two men. One was tall and lanky, the other shorter with a round face. They were both dressed in black paramilitary uniforms and held assault rifles.

  “Dude,” Hamilton said, his voice carrying across to Kate and Nick.

  He catapulted himself off the lanai and bolted full speed toward the gulch on the other side of the property, with the two gunmen in pursuit.

  “Stop,” the taller one shouted, taking aim and firing off several rounds at Hamilton.

  Hamilton reached the gulch, leapt down the embankment, and disappeared into the jungle.

  The shorter gunman peered into the darkness. “What do you think, Jasper? Should we follow him?”

 

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