by Aysia Amery
“You think your sister’s gonna show up?” my crew cut assistant asked.
“I’m hoping she does. Her clues are helpful, even if sometimes it takes a while to figure out their meaning.”
During our food prep session in my kitchen, I shared with Reese and Jemma the horrid circumstances of Kyle’s and Nani’s deaths, and that Pako and I were going to find out if it happened that way, or if something else was amiss.
If it weren’t for the fact that Jemma reacted to funerals the way an agoraphobic person did when stepping outdoors, it bummed her out that she couldn’t be here to help with the sleuthing. In her case, it would be eavesdropping in on conversations and reporting back to me.
My two assistants have encouraged me on numerous occasions to start a detective agency and said they’d work for me at both jobs.
Yeah, right. Like I needed their Mutt and Jeff antics in two areas of my life rather than one. I loved them like family, but sometimes I wanted to slap them silly. In a fond way, mind you. I wouldn’t trade those two in for anything, but at the same time, they might be the death of me should they become my Watson sidekicks.
“Well, when they get in here, I’ll keep my ears tuned in, in case any juicy tidbits start flying around,” Reese said, his eyes all lit up with excitement. I swear, he and Jemma salivated for gossip.
“Just don’t go looking too conspicuous, now. The last time you helped me snoop, you nearly got us arrested.” You don’t wanna know that story. Trust me.
“It wasn’t my fault. Jemma made me do it.”
“Oh, really? Not according to Jemma. I think you enjoyed rifling through that woman’s underwear.”
“You always take Jemma’s word against mine.” He sounded like a dejected child.
“That’s because she never lies to me. You, on the other hand, have uttered a little white lie from time to time.”
Of course, I was guilty of the same, but it was fun playing with him. And I just told one about Jemma, because she did indeed tell little white lies too. Everyone I knew told little white lies. Who didn’t?
“Little white lies are needed sometimes.” He shrugged. “Like if Blaine told me not to tell you about the secret surprise he was planning for you, and you asked me what I knew, I’d have to lie or I’d get clobbered by your hubby.”
My eyes popped. “Blaine’s planning a surprise for me?” My voice scaled an octave higher.
Just for the record, Reese jested about the getting clobbered part. Blaine wouldn’t hit anybody. Well, not unless they were physically hurting me, that is.
“Well, no, but I’m just sayin’,” my ‘about to get clobbered assistant’ replied with a snicker.
My shoulders drooped. “Dammit, Reese, don’t go getting me all excited for nothing.”
He let out a ‘he-he.’ I wanted to box his Dopey ears. Yes, I’m talkin’ Snow White’s dwarf. Reese had big ones just like him; the kind that stuck straight out. You couldn’t help but think that if he could flap ‘em, he’d fly away like Dumbo.
But even with those satellite dish ears, Reese wasn’t bad looking. His hapa (person of mixed ethnicity)—part Filipino, part Caucasian heritage—churned out a cute baby who turned into an adult with boyishly-charming features.
Why he continues to complain that he can’t get laid was beyond me. Although it might have to do with the fact that’s all he’s looking for, and he tries too hard at it that women can sense it. And I can imagine, it becomes more of a turn-off than a turn-on.
Being ten years my junior, Reese is like a kid brother to me, so I instill my ‘sisterly’ advice, but his desperation kicks in, and then he blows it.
Both Jemma and I try to steer him right, but if he won’t listen, then he’s on his own. Maybe one day he’ll see the light. I sure hope so because if he complains one more time about his celibacy, I’m going to pull those big ears of his until they’re mopping the floors.
Seriously.
“Anyway, back to the main subject. If you’re going to help snoop, then just be subtle about it. You’ll never pass the Watson test if you don’t.” I smiled.
Reese let out a sigh. “Okay. But can you stop bringing up the panties incident? I’ve paid for that humiliation already.”
I nearly let out a boisterous laugh. “Okay, I’ll try. But can you blame me? If it were somebody else, you’d be all over them too, right?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s no fun when it’s my face that’s got the eggs on it.”
“Anyway, it wasn’t that you just rifled through her undies, but stashing one in your pocket did you in. You’re just lucky that I was the one who spotted it before our client did. Heaven forbid if it had fallen out while you were serving.”
“Yeah, yeah. I was an idiot. And a pervert.” He frowned.
“Hey, I didn’t say you were a perv. I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not one. Well, in a serious way, anyway.” I grinned. “And I’m sure there are other non-perverted guys who would’ve done the same, just because that’s how guys roll sometimes. But just watch what you do when you’re representing my company.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” he said, with his hand to his forehead in a salute.
Again, I smiled at him.
After a short while, the sliding glass door opened, and people filed into the lounge headed for the buffet.
Since we set this up as a self-serve, there wasn’t much for us to do. The headcount didn’t require refills, since each dish fit and kept warm in the chafers.
We stood aside and watched the attendees pile the pupus and entrées onto their round six-inch paper plates.
Clients had a choice of eight-inch plates as well, but Elisse chose the smaller size. Since the menu included a Chinese cake-noodle dish, it surprised me she’d pick the small plate. It made it harder for the attendees to grab much on the initial pass-through. But that’s what she wanted, so that’s what she got.
As people sat at the cafeteria-style long-benched tables, it was clear who belonged to what family. Nani’s mourners populated one side of the room, while Kyle’s congregated on the other. The animosity was as dense as cream cheese.
Unless this rift stemmed prior to the tragedy, it would seem Nani’s family believed that Kyle killed her. Although no proof yet determined exactly what happened, the preliminary police findings seemed to have swayed a verdict that they’d already cast.
Once everyone grabbed their food, Reese and I sat on a bench away from the crowd and had our meal.
About twenty minutes later, Elisse came toward me with another woman by her side. “Ginger, this is Yvonne. She was Nani’s best friend.”
I stood to greet her.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a cordial smile as I shook her hand.
My ability to see past lives by touching people kicked in after around five seconds. If either of us let go before that time, the mind-flash wouldn’t initiate. Five seconds seemed a long time when you’re counting. Like waiting for your computer to reboot.
On many occasions, I didn’t care to envision people’s past lives, while other times, curiosity took control. The latter was true today.
I enveloped my other hand over Yvonne’s as an added gesture which kept us connected and bought me time.
“I’m so sorry about your friend,” I said.
Her eyes welled. “Thank you. I can’t believe she’s gone.”
As the tears rolled down her cheeks, a flash of a woman tending to Union soldiers during a battle streamed my consciousness.
Our hands unclenched, and the connection broke.
Elisse spoke. “Yvonne wanted to ask you about your catering. I’m going to leave you two to talk while I tend to my family.”
My client turned and left, bringing my attention to rest solely upon this woman with shoulder-length black hair.
“This is Reese,” I said, while my hand gestured toward him.
After they acknowledged each other, Reese said to me, “I’m going to walk around.” I knew what tha
t meant. Snoop.
“Okay,” I replied, and he meandered off toward the side of the room Nani’s family occupied.
“Your food was delicious.”
“Thank you,” I said graciously.
“I’m needing to cater a party in a few months, so I’d like to set up a time to come and see you and discuss what you can do for me.”
“Sure. What type of party?”
“My father’s kanreki.”
Kanreki is a Japanese tradition when a man turns sixty, he celebrates his rebirth. Its roots stem from the Chinese Zodiac calendar.
In Hawaii, it’s customary to throw as big a party as one would a wedding. I’ve had to cater a few of those just within my own family. My father, for one, and my uncles.
Even though Blaine’s Caucasian, I might throw him one, since he’s taken on so many of my family’s traditions. That won’t be for a while yet though. He’s got another sixteen years before he turns the big six-O.
“We should meet soon,” I told her. This was a perfect opportunity to gather intel from her about Nani and Kyle. I loved it when things worked out like this.
“Yes, my thoughts exactly. I’m going to be super busy in the next few weeks, so the sooner the better.”
Perfect!
“Can you meet on a weekday?” I asked.
“I can after work. I get off at five, so I can meet you after that. I live and work in Kihei.”
How convenient.
“I live in Kihei too.”
“That works out great, then,” she said. “How about Thursday?” That was the day after tomorrow. Again, perfect!
“Sounds good.”
We exchanged business cards, and I told her I’d call her tomorrow to arrange where to meet.
“Why don’t you come over to my home?” Yvonne smiled at me as though I were already a friend. Without waiting for a response, she continued, “Let me write my address on my business card.”
I handed the item back to her.
“Shall we say six o’clock?” Her pen moved in circular motions. After the final scribblings were done, a click sounded while she held out the card to me.
The curves of her handwriting were plump, lacking sharp or jagged edges. “I’ll be there. Do you want me to call first?”
“Only if you’re going to be late. Otherwise, just come on over.”
“Will do.”
We exchanged smiles.
“I’d better finish offering my condolences to the family,” Yvonne said as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
I nodded and said, “See you Thursday.”
As she walked away, my eyes caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the open entryway of the sliding glass doors.
It was Maile.
I wasn’t surprised. I had a feeling she’d have a clue for me.
Anxious to see what she’d point to, I headed toward the chapel area, my focus zeroing in only on her small ten-year-old figure.
As I approached, nearing five feet from her, I smiled my greeting. Without waiting for me to reach her, she turned and headed for the altar.
I followed until we were both standing in front of the floral spray with the urns.
My sister’s small finger pointed toward one of the koa urns. As my eyes cast upon the scene, I realized that Maile wasn’t pointing to the urn, nor the photo, but to something else, something that wasn’t there earlier.
Upon the top of Nani’s urn lay a pink hibiscus.
Chapter 6
After my conversation with Yvonne, I managed to meet and talk with a few of the family members on both sides. At least I didn’t have to force myself on people when snooping at events. Because of my reputation, they normally sought me out to praise the food and get my business card. That gave me the opportunity to pry for info inconspicuously.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to garner from the relatives that was pertinent to the case. It would be weird to bombard them with personal questions that would make me come off like a news reporter or detective, so I kept it light and unobtrusive.
Relatives wouldn’t know much about the private goodies anyway. The closest friends would be the ones to hit up for that. I would bet that Yvonne, and Kyle’s best friend, would have the most useful info. I’ve already got a date with Yvonne. Now to find a way to talk to Kyle’s buddy. Unfortunately, he must’ve left already because I couldn’t spot him anywhere.
I looked at my watch.
Where the heck was Reese? It was closing in on 7:30 p.m. and we had to get our stuff packed up.
I scanned the room. The remaining attendees were now scattered about in smaller groups. All of Nani’s family had left, and only a dozen of Kyle’s clan hung around, still engrossed in conversation.
The young man who I knew to be Kyle’s son due to the position he sat in in the first pew, sulked alone at the end of a table. Worse than grieving, he looked as though he might puke any minute. I hoped it wasn’t the food. Not an easy one to talk to most likely. Would probably clam up and ignore any questions posed at him. Pako will interview him when the time comes. Probing somebody despondent took some authority to make them talk.
There was no more sleuthing to be done tonight, so I started in on the cleanup. Just as I reached over to grab the tongs, a body brushed up next to me, their breath huffing and puffing.
“Ginger, you’re not going to believe this.”
“Were you running?” I asked my winded assistant.
“I knew you’d be wanting to pack up by now, so I hurried to get back here.” He seemed excited, and not just from the exercise he got. “Anyway, guess who I was talking to all this time?”
He and Jemma loved to do this to me. They asked questions that I had no way of knowing the answer.
“Yogi Bear?” Might as well give him something. Any guess would be wrong anyway.
He stared open-mouthed at me. “I’m serious. After you hear what I’ve learned, you’re gonna make me your Numero Uno Watson. Jemma’s gonna have to take second fiddle. Again. Ha!”
“Be glad Jemma didn’t hear you say that.” I wanted to laugh. Poor Jemma and her ‘second fiddle’ pet peeve.
“Okay, so take a wild guess.” Reese kept his voice down so only I could hear.
“Reese, I have no idea, so just spill it. I’m in no mood to play Twenty Questions right now.”
This was like déjà vu. Recently, Jemma did this very same thing to me.
He followed me around as we packed up so he could continue his big reveal. “Theresa.”
“Who?”
“The dead guy’s ex-wife.” Reese gleamed a toothy grin. Oh, he was proud of himself all right.
I stopped what I was doing. “Are you serious? How the heck did you wind up talking with her?”
“I think she was trying to hit on me. She seemed a little drunk.” He shined another smile. His ego had been stroked.
“Really?!” She must’ve spiked her drink. Only non-alcoholic beverages were served tonight.
“Would I be making you go through all this if it didn’t happen? Geezus, Ginger, I’m vying for the Numero Uno title here, so why would I risk that?”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down.” I looked around to see if anybody stared at us. Only a couple of heads turned, but nobody else was in earshot, or for that matter, seemed to care.
Reese lowered his volume to slightly louder than a whisper. “Wait till I tell you what she told me. You’re gonna owe me after this one.”
“Hey, I don’t force you to snoop for me, so what you do is strictly voluntary.” Yeah, I’ll reward him later in some way, but I enjoyed teasing him just the same.
“Let’s finish up here, and then you can tell me on the drive home. I don’t want anybody overhearing our conversation,” I whispered back.
When Reese left me to bring around my minivan so we could load up from the sidewalk, I sought out Elisse.
“We’ve transferred the leftovers into aluminum trays and left some eight-inch paper plates and tinfoil in
case you want some of your family members to take a plate home.” Bringing along the larger paper plates was for this very reason. I left her extra disposable chopsticks and plastic forks too.
“Thank you so much, Ginger. Everyone raved about how wonderful your food was. You did an outstanding job, as always.”
“Glad to be of service.” I smiled.
After saying my goodbyes, Reese and I loaded up the minivan. My butt hadn’t even planted fully on the driver’s seat when my assistant said, “You ready for the juicy info?”
I quirked my brow. “If juicy turns to slobber, and I’m talkin’ about describing anything other than tidbits on the murder case, then you’d better stand down quick.”
“We didn’t do anything like that. I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman. You know that.” Yes, I did. “I was her sounding board. She needed to get things off her chest. And to a stranger, not the dead guy’s family.”
I swear, by the fidgeting Reese did in his seat, I thought he needed to pee. My eyes were on the road, but I didn’t have to look over at him to sense his agitation, or rather, his excitation.
Reese sighed. “You gonna let me tell you this or not?”
“Okay, spill.”
“The dead lady stole the dead guy from his ex-wife. And their son had a schoolboy crush on the dead lady.”
“What?” I turned my head to look at Reese. “Seriously?”
“Stop saying that, Ginger. Of course, I’m serious. Why the hell would I make this stuff up?”
“Sorry, it’s just a habit.”
I’ve known Reese to say ‘seriously?’ too, so not sure why my saying it bothered him. Maybe I said it one too many times tonight. He knew it was just a thing people said when surprised. It wasn’t to be taken literally.
“So what else did she say?” I had to admit, this was juicy info and could prove helpful to the case.
“Get this ... while she and the dead guy were still married—”
“Kyle,” I interjected.
“What?”
“Stop calling him the ‘dead guy.’ It’s getting on my nerves,” I said. Guess it was like the ‘seriously?’ thing. He was saying ‘dead guy’ one too many times. Too funny. “His name was Kyle, and his wife’s name was Nani.”