“I…I…didn’t,” Josie’s voice cowered in reply.
“Didn’t what? Didn’t think? I was told you slant-eye people were smart. Are you the only dumb-ass Chinaman in all of Hawaii?”
“I’m not Chinese. I’m—”
“I don’t give a damn what you are. The fact is, you’re an idiot. Now get that goddamn woman out of my private office.” I heard footfalls stomp down the tiled hallway.
The den door opened about a foot and Josie peeked in, her eyes narrowed in anxiety as if she was expecting me to continue the barrage of insults.
“Miss Moon?” she said.
“Yes, Josie. I’m here.” I stood and walked over to the door.
“I’m so sorry for making a problem,” she said, her eyes welling up, her mouth a tight line. She seemed to be struggling to maintain her composure.
“No need to apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. He has no right to talk to you like that.” I wanted to tell her I had the name and phone number of a guy I’d gone to high school with who now worked in the state civil rights office. But I figured it was one of those Biblical ‘time to reap, time to sow’ situations. I’d hold back on getting self-righteous until I had a check—with Marv Prescott’s signature on it—in hand. But I wouldn’t forget.
Josie silently ushered me back to the foyer. “The policeman are still in the sunroom. Is it okay for you to wait here?”
“No problem.”
About ten minutes later, Josie silently escorted the police past me and out the door. She closed the door and bobbed her head toward me in a weary bow. “Sorry for the waiting. Please follow me.”
In the sunroom Marv lounged on the sunny yellow sofa. He sipped his coffee and gazed out at the view.
“Hello Ms. Moon,” he said after I’d stood and waited to be acknowledged for the obligatory minute. He patted the sofa. “Have a seat.”
It took some deep kung fu breathing to convince my body to place itself within six feet of the guy, but I managed to perch on the edge of the cushion.
“I guess today’s the big rehearsal.” His voice was full of fatherly pride. “I didn’t expect to see you until this later afternoon.”
Okay, I said to myself. What’s going on? The police just left. They found Brad’s body on the beach this morning. Had the cops failed to deliver the news?
Marv fixed his eyes on me and I responded in kind. I’d certainly faced more intimidating opponents than this bandy-legged, racist jerk. If I’d been hooked up to a lie-detector and asked if I’d overheard anything, I’d could’ve pumped out a flat line, no problem.
“Well, Marv, I don’t know if we’re going to have a rehearsal or not. It seems something’s come up.”
“You talkin’ about that body they picked up on the beach?” He said it as if corpses washed ashore every day. “Yeah, I heard about it. As you may have noticed, the police just left.”
“That sort of puts a crimp in things, don’t you think?”
“It’s unfortunate that some poor soul drowned a day before my daughter’s wedding, but I don’t see why that should keep us from moving forward.”
It was an Oscar-winning performance. He knew damn well whose body had washed ashore that morning.
Point was, he didn’t care.
CHAPTER 16
A wise person would’ve hit the road, but I stuck around. After all, I had promises to keep.
“Marv, sorry to bother you with this, but I’ve got some wedding vendors who need to get paid.”
“So pay them.”
“Well, I would, but I’m experiencing a bit of a cash crunch.”
“Isn’t it customary to hit up the father of the bride after the ceremony?”
“Yes, it is. But frankly, I’m pretty sure they’ll identify the body they found this morning as Brad Sanders.”
“And your point is…”
“My point is that if it’s Brad, then I’m also sure the proxy wedding tomorrow would be invalid, not to mention in extremely poor taste.”
“Sweetheart, what’s in poor taste is you asking me to pay for my daughter’s wedding before it’s even scheduled. I don’t see how waiting one more day constitutes a hardship for you or your so-called ‘vendors.’ Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some business calls to make and I have a long list of things I need to attend to before tonight’s events. The maid will show you out.”
I hated leaving empty-handed, but I pride myself on recognizing when ‘no’ means ‘no.’ Besides, my mental kryptonite protecting me against Marv Prescott’s vulgarity was losing its potency. I feared if I stuck around much longer I might feel duty-bound to take him to task for the Josie incident. That could lead to my losing my temper, and that could result in me kicking his ass and kissing off any prayer of getting paid.
Josie met me in the foyer and gave me a quick, tentative smile.
“Would you mind if I used the bathroom before I leave?” I said. “It’s a long ride back to Pa’ia.”
“Follow me, please.”
She trotted down the hallway and I kept close behind. She stopped outside the doorway to what a real estate agent would refer to as a ‘powder room.’ I heard banging pans and sharp voices coming from further down the hall and figured the kitchen must be down there.
“Mahalo,” I said. “You go ahead with your work. I’ll just let myself out when I’m finished.”
She hesitated. I’m sure it was tough for her to decide if Marv would place a higher value on her getting back to her chores or making sure I departed promptly.
“I have work in the kitchen.” She gave me a guarded look as if silently requesting a pinky swear I wouldn’t pull a stunt that might get her into even deeper doo-doo.
“Really—I’ll just be a few minutes.” I said. I slipped into the tiny half-bath and flicked on the light. The room glittered like an open jewelry box. Against deep carmine walls gleamed a gaudy gilt-framed mirror that would have done Marie Antoinette proud. A black pedestal sink sported oversized gold fixtures. Even the magazine rack tucked in next to the toilet looked gold plated. I considered ripping off a magazine to read later but then shuddered as I flipped through the selection: Guns and Ammo, Hustler, and Soldier of Fortune. Obviously, this was Marv’s domain. I lost any urge to sit down on the jet black toilet.
I counted twenty seconds using the one-thousand one, one-thousand-two method and then flushed. I thoroughly scrubbed my hands in the sink and then poked my head out the door. Seeing the coast was clear, I retraced my steps toward the front door. As much as I wanted to get the hell out of there I felt obligated to check on Lisa Marie and see how she was holding up. I took a left at the foyer and sneaked down the hallway that extended in the opposite direction of the sunroom. The sprawling house had no second floor so I figured I’d located the bedroom wing.
I crept along the hall, listening for signs of life. The first doorway was on my left. The door was open so I stepped inside and scanned the room. It appeared to be a guest room, with a massive mahogany canopy bed elegantly draped with about a hundred yards of milky white netting. The walls were papered in natural grass cloth. A thick area rug woven in a deep green and yellow banana-leaf design covered most of the cream-colored tile floor. A ceiling fan the size of an airplane propeller slowly rotated overhead.
The next doorway was to my right. The double doors were closed. I leaned in close but heard nothing. I’d check out the remaining rooms before risking opening a closed door.
The next room was on the left. I spotted a half-inch gap between the door and the jamb.
I listened. Through the gap I made out a faint mewling sound coming from inside. It sounded a lot like Lipton’s puppies back at my house.
I nudged the door open and looked in. A human form was stretched out on the bed in a tangle of sheets. I couldn’t tell whether the person was male or female in the dusk of the shuttered room.
I tiptoed inside and was startled when the figure emitted a sharp animal noise—something between a grunt and a b
ark—and turned toward me.
It was a tiny bald man wearing a white tank top and bright print boxer shorts. His face was smooth and he had matchstick-thin arms and legs. The guy looked like drawings I’d seen of space aliens. The eyes weren’t big and buggy and the ears weren’t exactly pointy, but the combination of dim room, weird noises and skinny bald dude all added up to a close encounter of the kind I prefer to avoid.
“Excuse me,” I said. I waved a Martian greeting and hastily backtracked to the door.
“Pali?” said the alien.
“Lisa Marie?” I whispered.
I peered harder into the gloom.
“I’m glad it’s you and not Daddy,” she said. “He’s been bugging me about getting up and eating something.”
As my eyes grew accustomed to the low light, I could make out her face. Without hair, she looked years younger—no, maybe older—I couldn’t decide. In any case, she looked bizarre. Even her eyebrows were missing.
“What happened?” I said.
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Oh, this?” She rubbed a hand across her scalp. “I shaved it off.”
“Why?”
“I figured it worked for Britney Spears. Remember when everything was going wrong for her and they took her little boys away?”
I didn’t keep up with Hollywood gossip, and I wondered if Lisa Marie had her facts straight.
“Uh, I don’t recall that. Remind me about it.”
“Everyone was calling Britney crazy and a bad mother and all that. The paparazzi followed her everywhere, yelling and shooting pictures of her without her make-up. Her life was a mess. So one night she got her hair shaved off.” She smiled. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen Lisa Marie smile.
“Anyway, I know exactly how she felt. Everybody’s been bossing me around and treating me like crap. When I told my dad about Kevin screwing that hippie he laughed. He said I should turn the other cheekbone. That I should be grateful to Kevin no matter who he screws.”
Hard as it was, I had to side with Marv on that one.
“Look, Lisa Marie, I’m sorry you got so upset over that. I know Farrah didn’t—“
“Shut up! Don’t you ever mention that name around me again. That bitch owes me an apology. A huge one.”
“Okay, well I think you need to rest. I’m—”
“No!” said Lisa Marie. “You don’t have a single clue what I need. I needed a designer dress and you wouldn’t get me one; then I needed tuberoses and that ‘ho’ lied and said she couldn’t get them. Then I needed you to get me a stupid crane picture and so far, no picture. Working with you has been like pulling teeth uphill the whole way.”
No point weighing in on that. I turned to leave.
“My wedding to Brad was supposed to be my A-list debut. Like Kate Middleton marrying that prince. But you’ve wrecked everything. And Kevin—don’t even get me started on him. He said I was the best ever and then he heaves me over for some gypsy with hairy legs? I hate him—I hate you all!”
My abuse-o-meter was glowing orange. I crossed the room and had my hand on the doorknob when she lobbed a final volley.
“But guess what?” she said. “You’re all going to look pretty damn stupid when Brad shows up tomorrow.”
I mentally cursed Marv for not telling her about the body.
She went on, “Yeah, getting rid of my hair got my brain working better. I’ve finally figured out how to get Brad to come back.”
“I need to go now, Lisa Marie.”
“So go. But you better be back here tomorrow, ‘cuz even with everything you’ve tried to do to wreck my wedding, I will be getting married. Mark my words, missy. Brad’s coming back and when he does, we’ll be all over the news. I can see it now: ‘Mrs. Lisa Marie Sanders—The Bride Who Never Lost Hope.’ By this time on Friday I’ll be more famous than the Kardashians.”
I quietly closed the door behind me. It wouldn’t be long before she’d learn about Brad’s fate. I’d come back later to offer my condolences—and hopefully pick up Marv’s check. Right then, my goal was to hot-foot it back to the shop and cancel the rehearsal dinner. I’d still be on the hook for the food and paying the servers’ their minimum wage, but at least I could avoid the bar set-up charges and mileage fees.
I’d come to Olu’olu with two goals: to break the bad news to Lisa Marie, and to pry a few bucks out of Marv. I’d struck out on both counts. Not a good start to the day, but it wasn’t over yet.
CHAPTER 17
I spent the half-hour ride back to Pa’ia hashing over a long list of ‘what-ifs.’ I’d pulled into the alley and turned off the engine before I remembered that once again I’d failed to pick up Lisa Marie’s thousand crane picture. As I sat in my car mulling over whether I should call the frame shop and apologize or just go get the darn thing, I was startled by a knock on the window.
“Hey,” said Farrah. “You comin’ or goin’?”
I rolled down the window. “Good question.”
“You hear about them finding that body down at Little Beach?”
“Yeah. I went down to Lisa Marie’s but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.”
“C’mon inside. I’ll buy you a pog.”
We went in the back door and I saw Beatrice, the ancient lady who sometimes filled in for Farrah, at the counter.
“Everything okay Bea?” Farrah sang out loudly. Beatrice had a hearing problem so conducting business with her was usually done at about ninety decibels.
“Fine, dear,” Beatrice yelled back.
Farrah traipsed back to the dairy case and picked up two pint-size cartons of passion-orange-guava juice—pog.
“I’ll be upstairs with Pali,” boomed Farrah.
“You’re upset with Pali? About what, dear?”
“No, we’ll be upstairs.”
“Fine, love. You two work it out. I can stay as long as you need me.”
We both waved at her and headed back outside to the stairs.
“Okay, so tell me what’s shakin’ at Olu’olu,” Farrah said as we took seats in our usual spots—she on the well-broken-in velveteen sofa and me in an orange director’s chair with a permanent butt sag in the seat. “I suppose they’ve called off the wedding.”
“Not yet. Marv’s waiting for them to ID the body, and Lisa Marie’s pretty much gone totally pupule.”
“She’s gone nuts? I thought you didn’t tell her. Did someone else?”
“Not that I know of.”
“She doesn’t know? So, why’s she crazy? She was in anger phase yesterday; I’d have figured she’d be moving into bargaining phase now, not depression. She’s not doing the grief cycle like she’s ‘sposed to.” Farrah chewed on a thumbnail.
I didn’t know the grief cycle from a giraffe. And, as far as I could tell, Lisa Marie lived her entire life in anger phase. “I don’t know whether she’s angry or bargaining or any of that, but she’s definitely gone around the bend. She chopped off her hair.”
“What?” she said. “Nobody gets a hair cut the day before their wedding.”
“It’s way beyond a haircut. She’s completely bald.”
“Wow, did she do it herself?”
Now that she mentioned it, Lisa Marie’s head was perfectly clean shaven. “It’s cueball smooth. I don’t think she could have gotten it so flawless on her own. But that’s not the point. She’s mutilating herself and she’s delusional. She’s even more convinced than ever that Brad’s going to show up tomorrow.”
“How could you listen to her talk like that and not tell her they found his body?”
“She needs professional help.”
“And you’re scared of her.”
“Damn straight I’m scared of her. I was all alone with her in a dark room. Who knows how she might have taken the news. She’s already gunning for Kevin. Oh, and on that happy note, she’s demanding an apology from you.”
“An apology? For what?”
“For getting involved with Kevin.”
&nb
sp; “Why should I apologize? He’s signing the wedding certificate; he’s not her prom date!” By this point she was yelling so loud probably even Beatrice could hear it.
I got up and sat next to her on the sofa. “Of course you’re right. But I’d appreciate it if you’d offer an apology anyway. Just to leave things on a high note.”
“You mean, because if I don’t you’re worried her dad won’t pay the wedding bills.”
“Guilty as charged. I need you to do it for me.” I took her hand.
There was a beat of silence.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But it won’t be sincere.”
“Sincerity is strictly optional.”
She squeezed my hand and then let it go. “Enough about that,” she said. “What’s going on with you and Hatch?”
“Nothing. Maybe I’m not his type. He’s been kind of distant lately.”
“Maybe his man parts got mashed up in the accident,” she said.
If she was angling for the last word on that subject, she got it.
“Well, speaking of lost man parts,” she went on, “how are Lipton and the babies doing?”
“They’re fine. Lipton seems to be missing you. Would you like to come up and visit?”
“Sounds good. I take it you’re not having the rehearsal?”
“No rehearsal,” I said, “but the wedding’s still on until there’s a positive ID. Under my contract only Lisa Marie or Brad can cancel the wedding. You know, for the past week I was really hoping Brad would stay missing just long enough to do this wedding. But now that he’s shown up, I’m sort of relieved. I think deep down I was worried this proxy thing might be against the law.”
“Well, even with everything that happened, I’m glad you took the job,” Farrah said. “Because if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Kevin. And without Kevin we’d be handing over everything to Tank the day after tomorrow.”
“I hope I don’t have to sell out to Tank. I’ve still got a ton of bills, and Marv’s playing hard ass about paying me. Do you think it’s out of line for me to ask Kevin to spot my rent next month? I’d pay him back as soon as I could.”
Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) Page 13