I parked in the unlit alley behind the Gadda-da-Vida. Farrah’s living quarters were upstairs at the top of a flight of rickety wooden stairs. Her daily commute was thirteen steps down to the back door of the store. She didn’t own a car, didn’t even know how to drive. I climbed the pitch dark stairway and rapped on the door. Farrah whipped it open. In the backlight from a single table lamp in her living room she looked stricken but utterly healthy.
“Okay, where’s the life or death emergency?” I peered into her cluttered apartment.
“It’s my dog.”
“Sir Lipton—the wonder dog?”
“Yeah. Well, Lipton’s more of a wonder than we thought. He’s been acting sick for a while, hanging out in my closet most of the time. I thought maybe he’d eaten something bad. His stomach was puffed up—like he had way-bad gas. Anyway, when I came up here after work, I found four puppies.”
“What? Lipton had puppies? Like puppies came out of him?” I’d never checked out Lipton’s equipment, and apparently Farrah hadn’t either.
“I guess so, since there are four baby dogs in the closet and Lipton’s nursing them. Oh, and get this—they all look an awful lot like Scooter, his b/f/f from down the alley.”
“Do you need me to take them to the animal shelter at Pu’unene?”
“I called. The nightshift guy said they don’t accept puppies until they’re at least six weeks old. I can’t keep them up here. The powers that be don’t even know I’ve got Lipton. And I’m still getting grief about that Wilbur incident.”
“It was a rat infestation, Farrah. You were harboring an entire colony of rats in a food store.”
Her mouth bent into a stern frown.
“They weren’t in the store, they were under the store. And I didn’t harbor, I just put a few scraps out now and then. They were out of sight until that makona guy from the Health Department started poking around. Some people keep rats as pets, you know.”
“You can’t have pets where there’s food. And besides, those things weren’t pets. They were vermin, from the cane fields. Those rats cause tons of damage, not to mention all the diseases they carry.”
She sniffed and pursed her lips in a tight line. From the looks of things, I was about to be treated to an ‘all creatures great and small’ speech unless I changed the subject—fast.
“I wish there was something I could do for Lipton,” I said. “I know how much you love him—or her, or whatever.”
“You could take him and the pups up to your place,” she said. “It’d just be for a few weeks. I’ll put up flyers at the store and I’m sure I’ll find every one of them a good home before you know it.”
“Couple of problems with that. First, Lipton’s not a ‘him’ anymore, so you need to start saying ‘she.’ I think bearing offspring is proof positive of female-hood. And second, I can’t have a litter of puppies in my house. Steve and I are already cramped with Hatch staying there.”
“What am I supposed to do—drown them in a bucket? Just come see them. They’re real cute. And besides, we’re just talking about a few weeks. I bet you and Steve will end up wanting one or two for yourself.”
She went into the bedroom and I followed. As she opened her closet door I got a whiff of the unmistakable ammonia smell of doggie urine.
“Lip’s been inside all day,” she said. “I’m afraid to let him out in case he hasn’t taken well to motherhood. He might decide it’s all too much and run off. You know, post-partum depression and all.”
Sir Lipton whined softly from inside a cut-down Charmin toilet paper box. Farrah had put down a thick pad of newspapers on the closet floor and they were soaked through. The dog looked up to meet my gaze and I could swear she looked apologetic about the mess.
“See what I mean?” Farrah picked through the stack of furry lumps rooting around Lipton’s underbelly. “Aren’t they just adorable?”
She held up a brown and white pinto, with a tiny squinched-up face. There were little slits where its eyes would pop open in a week or so. Its ears stuck straight up.
“Sir Lipton’s a Jack Russell, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “And if Scooter’s the other dad, then these little guys are half-mini-beagle, half-Jack.”
In other words, manic dog squared.
“I’ll need to run this by Steve and Hatch first. They may not be all that thrilled about living in a house that stinks like a dog kennel.”
She handed me the puppy she’d been holding. It was heavier than I’d expected, its little body giving off a calming heat. It shoved its back legs against my palm as if trying to nudge itself into a more comfortable position.
“Pity if I had to start looking around for a gunny sack,” Farrah said. She picked up a pup the color of a coconut husk. “And filling up a bucket.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I sure wouldn’t want to, but I’ll have no choice if I can’t find a place to stash them. If the suits hand me another health violation it could close me down.”
It always struck me odd that Hawaiians refer to bureaucrats as ‘suits,’ like you hear on the mainland. I’d never seen any local government worker, even officials from the governor’s office, wearing a suit. Men’s business attire is an aloha shirt—untucked—and khaki pants.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell Steve and Hatch our good deed for the year is Operation Puppy Rescue. Hatch can watch them during the day, and I’ll put them up in my room at night.”
“Mahalo, Pali. You won’t be sorry. This’ll bring you tons of good karma—trust me.” She put the two pups back in the box and they burrowed down, seeking milky solace. “I think the karmic energy is already balancing out. If I hadn’t talked to Kevin about rescuing us from Tank Sherman we’d have lost our businesses. And if you hadn’t rescued Lipton’s pups, his family would have drowned.”
There was probably a grain of logic in there somewhere, but I was too exhausted to hunt for it.
“Oh, and don’t worry about dog food,” she went on. “I’ll handle that. The Lipster needs his special food, and that stuff doesn’t come cheap.”
“I wish you’d stop referring to Lipton as ‘him.’ It’s definitely a she.”
“His name is Sir Lipton. Always was, always will be.”
“Well, then I’d suggest you get ‘him’ spayed.”
“Neutered.”
“Whatever.”
We went downstairs to the store and Farrah packed up two bags of high priced canned and dry dog food; a package of pepperoni-style dog treats; and a spray bottle of carpet cleaner formulated especially for ‘stubborn pet odors.’ I’d seen Sir Lipton in action enough to know she definitely had her ‘stubborn pet’ moments.
Farrah insisted on accompanying me back home with the five dogs.
“I need to visualize them safe and happy, and it’ll be easier if I’m able to be there when they get settled in,” she said.
We pulled in front of the house and I didn’t see Steve’s car—not in the driveway, not in the garage.
I carried the puppy box up the porch steps while Farrah followed, tightly clutching Lipton to her chest. Farrah kept up a play-by-play of what was happening, whispering to her dog like an announcer at a golf tournament. “Okay, Lip-Man, we’re here at Pali’s. This neighborhood’s called Hali’imaile, but it’s only a few miles from home, so don’t worry. She’s being real nice to take you in for a while, so here’s how it’s going to go: You be a good boy and stay here for a few weeks and then you can come back to the store. Meanwhile, I’ll find good homes for your kids. And, remember, the rules are the same here as at home: no barking, no whining, no chewing shit up. You got it?”
I set down the box to open the door, and I looked back to see how Lipton was handling the move. Her doggie face looked resolute—silently promising to do whatever necessary to keep her kids alive. Jack Russells are smart, but Lipton’s creepy smart.
Hatch was in his usual spot on the sofa. The TV was at full volume, booming out a basketball ga
me from the mainland. Good thing he’d paid me his rent in advance so I’d been able to pay the cable bill. A sweating beer bottle was etching an indelible ring into my coffee table.
“Hey, you’re home. Everything okay?” he said.
I carted the Charmin box into the living room.
“Oh, hello,” he said when he saw Farrah behind me. “I wish I could act like a gentleman and stand up, but I’m afraid I’m kind of gimped-up.” He pulled the blanket from his legs to display the heavy cast.
“No, no, stay comfortable,” said Farrah. “I’m just dropping off my guys.” She gave Lipton a quick peck on the top of the head.
“Puppies,” I said. I put the box down on the floor so Hatch could see them. “I hope you’re not allergic or anything.”
“No, not at all. Wow, they’re real tiny—and cute.”
“I’m Farrah, by the way,” she said extending her right hand while trying to contain a squirming Lipton in her left.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have introduced you.”
Farrah stared at Hatch’s face as if memorizing it for a police sketch artist. I wondered if he felt as uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny as I did.
“Good to meet you. I’m Hatch Decker. I’m the first refugee Pali took in this week, but it sounds like I’m not the last.” He smiled and put a hand into the box and lightly stroked one of the pups.
“They’ll only be here until they’re old enough to get adopted,” I said. “Probably a month. Six weeks at the most.”
“Great. It’ll be good to have company when you and Steve aren’t around.”
At that point Lipton’s patience wore out. She yelped and twisted out of Farrah’s grasp, landing with a thump on Hatch.
“Sorry,” said Farrah. “He’s had a tough day. He’s never had puppies before.”
“This is the puppies’ sire?” Hatch said, dodging his head to catch a glimpse of Lipton’s underside.
“No,” I said. “Lipton’s a female. She’s the pups’ mother, but Farrah always thought Lipton was male, so it’s been hard for her to make the switch.”
“His name is Sir Lipton,” said Farrah, as if that explained everything.
“Does he pee squatting down or—” Hatch said.
“I’ve really got to get going. Come outside with me, Pali. I need to talk to you about Sir Lipton’s schedule.”
Farrah and Hatch exchanged goodbyes and we went out onto the porch. Once the door closed, she dropped her jaw, put both hands on her cheeks, and wagged her head as if she’d just caught a glimpse of a naked Brad Pitt.
“Oh-my-Gawd,” she mouthed. She leaned in and whispered, even though it was completely unnecessary with the door shut, “That guy is so gorgeous. And he is not, not, no-way-in-hell gay. Auras don’t lie.”
“Farrah, we all see what we want to see, but Hatch is—”
“Shut up. Really, I mean it. Shut up. That guy is totally smashed by you. And I should know. I read auras like most people read the newspaper, and I’m telling you, Hatch Decker is stick straight.”
“Your vote is duly noted. But remember, he’s Steve’s friend and—”
She pushed past me and went back inside.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said to Hatch.
He picked up the remote and muted the TV. “Sure, fire away.”
CHAPTER 13
It was way past my bedtime when Farrah and I got back in the car. On the way down to her apartment she talked about Hatch’s evasive response.
“He’s not gay, but he’s definitely hiding something. What do you think it could be?”
“I think he doesn’t want to get involved with someone he lives with. Seems reasonable.”
“No it isn’t! You two are perfect for each other.”
I snapped on the radio. She took the hint.
Baldwin Avenue was quiet and dark. Even so, as we neared the Gadda-da-Vida, it was impossible not to see the boxcar-sized Hummer parked directly in front.
“Oh no,” said Farrah. “With all the jiggy over Lipton’s pups, I forgot I asked Kevin if he wanted to get a drink with me down at Cisco’s. You know, to toast him buying our building. You can come too, Pali.” My car was dark as a cave, but her voice gave away her blush.
“Come on, we’re all adults here. Besides, didn’t you already admit to having carnal knowledge of the guy in a previous life?”
Kevin opened his driver door and slid a long leg down from the bulky vehicle. I tried to catch his expression, but the dim eco-friendly street lights barely gave off enough light to see a hand in front of your face. He sauntered over to Farrah’s side of the car.
“Evenin’ ladies,” he said, leaning into the open window. “I hope you didn’t start without me.”
“I’m sorry, Kev,” Farrah said. “I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight, but my dog had puppies, and I had to take them up to Pali’s ‘cuz I can’t have animals at the store, and when I got there I needed to help her find out if her new roommate is gay and then—”
“Hey, no harm, no foul. Maybe another time?”
Farrah popped the passenger-side door open so fast Kevin had to hop out of the way to avoid getting hit. They huddled together, talking in low voices I couldn’t hear. I was about to beep the horn and tell them I was leaving when Farrah ducked her head back in. “I’ll call tomorrow to check on Sir Lipton, okay? He’s never been away from me overnight.”
I was about to shriek it was high time to stop referring to Lipton as male, but held off. I needed sleep way more than I needed to win an argument.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll catch you then.”
As I pulled away I sneaked a glance in the rearview mirror. They still hadn’t climbed into the Hummer for the ride down to Cisco’s. I wondered if more than a drink was on tap for the evening. None of my business, I told myself sharply. It’d been a long day and I had four bridal fittings in the morning. All I cared about was getting my weary bones back up the hill and into bed.
***
Early Tuesday morning Steve suggested we all go out to breakfast to celebrate Hatch’s newfound freedom. Now that he could use his crutches his doctor had encouraged him to get out of the house and get some exercise.
“I’m looking at a pretty steep slope to get back to my fighting weight,” said Hatch. “This laying around eating fancy food has turned me soft.”
I wasn’t sure what soft meant to a firefighter, but from where I was sitting, there wasn’t a soft spot in sight. Steve and I exchanged a quick sideways glance. Seems the vote was two to one.
The guys coaxed me to join them—Hatch even offered to pay—but I begged off. Lisa Marie and the bridesmaids were coming in at eleven and I needed to make sure everything was ready. As much as I’d tried to deny it, Kevin’s dire warnings about the consequences of messing up Lisa Marie’s wedding had made an impression.
At ten I started down the hill to my shop. I pulled into the alley and went in through the back door. I had the coffee set up and was putting out fresh potpourri when it hit me: I hadn’t called Kevin with the lawyer’s name. I dug James Kanekoa’s card out of my purse and called Kevin’s cell but it went to voicemail.
At ten minutes to eleven, I opened the front door to let in a little fresh air. Kevin’s black Hummer was still parked in front of Farrah’s. A minute later, a bright red Porsche roared up Baldwin and pulled into the last remaining spot on my side of the road, about a half-block down from the Hummer. Lisa Marie climbed out of the passenger side and the shiny sports car backed up and took off. I didn’t have a chance to ponder how the bridesmaids were going to find my shop before Akiko’s smoke-belching minivan chugged into sight and pulled into the spot vacated by the Porsche.
“You better have my coffee ready,” Lisa Marie shouted as she walked toward me. Then she spotted the Hummer. She slowed her gait.
“I guess Kevin showed up after all,” she said pushing past me and going inside. “I called him this morning to bring me but he didn’t an
swer.”
My lips clamped shut as my brain marshaled its forces. I followed her in.
“Ke-vin,” she called out. “I know you’re in here.” I watched as she parted the bead curtain and peered into the fitting area.
“Okay,” she said. “Very funny, Pali. Where are you hiding him?”
I shrugged. A feeble response, I know, but it beat out faking a coughing fit.
“Wait a minute,” she said. I watched clouds building behind her eyes. “He’s next door, isn’t he? He’s with that fat hippie who’s supposed to be doing my flowers. He’s…” She straight-armed me and was back out the door before I could block her exit.
By this time Akiko had wrestled the bulky garment bag from the back of her van and had come up to the shop.
“Problem?” she said. We both watched as Lisa Marie banged through the door of the Gadda-da-Vida.
“She probably wants cream for her coffee,” I said.
Lisa Marie was gone about five minutes. While we waited, I heard muffled shouting coming through the old plank walls. It was hard to tell who was doing the yelling or what was being said, but there were no pauses. Just a constant stream of hollering and screeching in the dulcimer tones of a cat fight. I could just imagine Kevin safely tucked in a corner watching the spectacle with a bemused look on his face.
About a half-minute after the racket died down, Lisa Marie slammed through my door, cheeks on fire.
“Akiko’s here with your gown, and I’m so excited to see you in it,” I said, determined to get Lisa Marie back on task. Later, Farrah would debrief me on the battle and I felt no obligation to give equal time to the opposition.
Akiko hoisted the ivory satin garment bag and nodded toward Lisa Marie. Then she silently carried it back into the fitting room.
Lisa Marie stood motionless by the door.
“Are you ready to get started?” I said.
“Fabulous,” said Lisa Marie. “I’m having the very worst day of my entire life and all you and that ugly little woman care about is sticking me with pins. To hell with it—all of it!”
Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) Page 11