Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series)

by JoAnn Bassett

  “Don’t worry about it. And don’t bother paying me for Lisa Marie’s flowers. I’ll sell them tomorrow. After all, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

  “Mahalo. By the way, how’s Kevin doing with them finding Brad’s body?”

  “Haven’t heard from him yet today. But I’ll bet he’s got mixed feelings. He loved Brad like a brother, but he said Brad was giving him fits about the business. I just hope that now that Brad’s officially gone they won’t expect Kevin to take over the company. He’s really ready to move on.”

  “I better run,” I said. “Do you know what time it is?”

  We both glanced at the old-fashioned Big Ben alarm clock on Farrah’s coffee table. It said eight-twenty. It had said eight-twenty since she’d first put it there.

  “Hey, it’s right twice a day,” she said. “I think it’s around half-past noon. You going home?”

  “No, I’ll wait at the shop until they ID Brad, then I’ll start making calls. I sure dread telling people I’m cancelling and I won’t be able to pay them until next week. After the news comes out, give me a half-hour and then I’ll take you up to the house.”

  “Da kine. See you then.”

  My message light was blinking when I went into to my shop. I didn’t need any more messages from creditors or vendors wanting to get paid. I ignored the phone and started flipping through my mail. Urgent! or Immediate action required! was splashed across the face of the envelopes, as if I needed any reminders of why I’d gotten involved with Lisa Marie in the first place. Before I’d thumbed through the entire stack, the phone rang. Without thinking, I reached across the desk and picked up the receiver.

  “Hey,” said Steve. “Didn’t you get my message?”

  “I just walked in. Everything okay?”

  “You talk to Hatch yet?”

  “No, should I?”

  “He left you a message. Actually, he left a bunch of messages.”

  I felt a little flutter in my stomach, but realized he probably just wanted me to pick up some air fresheners on my way home. The doggie odor was becoming a fourth roommate.

  “Do you know what he wanted?”

  “Yeah. What do you want first—the good news or the bad?”

  “I don’t care—surprise me.”

  “Okay, well, the good news is the body isn’t Brad Sanders.”

  There was a pause. I heard him suck in a breath as if he was about to jump into cold water. “The bad news it’s Kevin McGillvary.”

  The receiver slipped from my hand and landed with a clunk on the desk. I grabbed it back up. “Sorry. Did I hear you right?”

  “Yep. Looks like Kevin picked a really bad time to stand in for his buddy Brad.”

  “I’m stunned. Just stunned. I…” I stopped. I couldn’t think of anything coherent to say, and I felt my throat closing up.

  “Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll be right there; I’m only three minutes away.”

  He banged through my door in two. I was still at my desk, phone in hand. If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again…

  “Hey,” he said. He took the receiver from my hand and hung it up.

  “I can’t believe this,” I said. I stood and he gave me a hug.

  “I know, it’s beyond weird. Hatch got the news a couple of hours ago when he checked in with his fire dispatch. The Honolulu ME released the information to Maui Fire first since they found the body. Professional courtesy, I guess.”

  “Kevin was a nice guy,” I said. “Do they know what happened?”

  “No. Cause of death takes more time than a simple ID. And, get this, he was only wearing underwear. No shirt, no pants. I’m no detective, but to me ‘drop trou’ means either he was having a very good time or a very bad time when he died.”

  “How’d they ID him so fast? No pants also means no wallet or driver’s license.”

  “Fingerprints. According to Hatch, DigiSystems does a lot of high-level government work so the people who work there have security clearances. His prints popped right up on the federal database.” He nodded toward my shabby sofa. “That thing got fleas?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s sit down. You look like you’re gonna faint.”

  We took opposite ends. I leaned back and tucked my legs under me. The weather had warmed up considerably but I was shivering.

  “I woke up in a good mood, but so far this day’s been a bitch,” I said. “First Marv won’t pay up, then Lisa Marie goes nut-job on me, and now Kevin’s dead.”

  “What’s with Lisa Marie?”

  I told him about her shaving her head and her rant about me ruining her wedding.

  “Whatever you did to piss her off will pale next to this. Can you imagine—she taps two guys to be her groom and now they’re both dead. What’re the chances?”

  I gazed out my front window and recalled Kevin’s enormous black Hummer parked out there. Then I bolted upright.

  “Steve,” I said. “I’ve got to tell Farrah.”

  “No need. It’s all over the news by now.”

  “Oh, no.” I launched from the sofa and was out the door in five strides.

  “Want me to come?”

  Steve answered his own question by following me outside. There was a ‘Closed’ sign on the Gadda-da-Vida. I peeked inside. The lights were off and the door knob wouldn’t turn.

  I raced to the back stairs. Steve followed close behind. Without bothering to knock, I pushed Farrah’s apartment door open. Muffled sobs were coming from somewhere in back. We crossed the cluttered living room and found her in her bedroom, face down on her sagging futon.

  “Leave me alone,” she sniffed.

  “Sorry, sister,” I said. “We’re staying.”

  Farrah twisted around, probably to check out why I’d said we. When she saw Steve, she leapt off the futon and threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. Her stricken face cast the enormity of Kevin’s shocking death in a whole new light. My stomach clenched.

  Steve began patting Farrah’s back as if he were burping a baby. He turned to me, shrugging his shoulders in bewilderment.

  “Did you hear?” Farrah sobbed. “They found him on Little Beach.” Her body twitched with a series of shuddering hiccups.

  “I know,” Steve said. “It really sucks.”

  Farrah gulped a deep breath and reached over and grabbed my hand. “Could I come stay at your place for a few days? I hate to ask, ‘cuz I know how you like your privacy, but—”

  “Stop. You’re ohana. Family doesn’t get any privacy.” That didn’t come out right, but she got the point.

  Truthfully, I had no idea where I’d put her. If three was a crowd, then four people and five dogs amounted to something approximating a mob—but turning her away was unthinkable.

  “I hate being away from Sir Lipton. He makes me feel safe.”

  “I’m sure he does.” I’d given up on the he/she thing.

  “What about the store?” Steve said. “Someone needs to keep the Vida open.”

  “The store’s closed,” Farrah said.

  “For the rest of the day?”

  “For as long as I’m in mourning.”

  Steve’s face slackened in disbelief. The Gadda-da-Vida Grocery was a lifeline for the Pa’ia community. It stayed resolutely open every day of the year, even on Farrah’s high holy days—Farrah Fawcett’s birth and death days, her parents’ anniversary, and Halloween.

  She snuffled her nose and stared him down, eyes defiant. “If I feel like it later, I’ll ask Bea if she wants to come in.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “It’s your store.”

  “Do you want to go to Hali’imaile now?” I said to Farrah. “I’ve got to run down to Olu’olu, but I could drop you off on the way.”

  “No, I need to pack some clothes and pull together some groceries. Can you give me an hour?”

  “Take all the time you need.” I hugged her tight and agreed to pick her up later.

  Steve and I walked
to my shop without saying a word.

  “Okay, you want to clue me in on what’s going on?” he said once we were inside. “Farrah probably met McGillvary a time or two since she was working the wedding. But I’m having a heck of a time figuring out why she’s so totally freaked out about him drowning.”

  “You’ve got to keep this to yourself.” I said. I waited for a nod of agreement since Steve’s kind of a go-to guy for gossip. “Farrah and Kevin were a couple.”

  “C’mon,” he said, “Birkenstocks and Gucci loafers under the same bed? No way.” He grinned as if he expected me to punch his arm and admit I was joking.

  “Trust me. It defies logic, but I witnessed it in action. He’d even offered to buy this building so Tank Sherman couldn’t kick Farrah and me out. I think he really cared about her.”

  “Well, maybe it was a peanut butter and caviar thing,” he said.

  I gave him a confused look.

  “You know, one of those weird combos that people swear is great. What did Lisa Marie think about the two of them hooking up? She okay with it?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  We looked at each other and held the stare.

  “Now what?” Steve said.

  “Now I need to head down to Olu’olu to see what they want to do and try to get some bills paid.”

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Could you clear out a few shelves in the kitchen? I have a feeling Farrah’s gonna haul in a load of comfort food.”

  “Sorry to state the obvious, but most of the shelves are already bare.”

  I chewed my lip. “You know, this morning my life was clipping along pretty good; just two days to go…” I shook my head. No use itemizing the dismal events of the past four hours.

  “You know your life could’ve turned out a lot worse,” said Steve.

  “Oh yeah? How?”

  “You could’ve been a guy betrothed to Lisa Marie.”

  CHAPTER 18

  I took my usual route toward home but instead of turning right at my street I shot right past it. I then made a right at Haleakala Highway and then a left at Highway 36 to Hansen Road and then to Waiko Road to Highway 30 over to the West Side. It certainly isn’t the most direct route from Pa’ia to Olu’olu, but by snaking along back roads I avoided the Kahului traffic and the extra miles gave me time to think.

  My plan was to convince Lisa Marie to scuttle the wedding out of respect for Kevin. By the time Olu’olu came into sight I had my whole speech prepared—‘That’s what Brad would want you to do; and even if he does show up tomorrow he’ll be proud you respected his friend’s memory,’ blah, blah, blah. I cringed at shamelessly putting words in her mouth since I was pretty sure there were some serious cracks in her psyche. Cancelling the wedding could split it wide open. But regardless of whether she went along with my plan or not I was duty-bound to wrestle a check out of Marv. If I didn’t get paid before he and Tina sashayed out to the airport, I had no doubt it wouldn’t take long for me to become just another blocked number on his cell phone.

  The gate was closed when I turned into Olu’olu. I waited at the speaker box, burning gas I couldn’t afford, for what felt like five minutes but was probably more like one or two. I tapped the horn.

  “Keep your shorts on,” snarled a voice through the speaker.

  “It’s me, Pali Moon. I need to see Lisa Marie.”

  “She’s not seeing nobody.”

  “How about Marv? Is he taking visitors?”

  “Mr. Prescott’s gone.”

  “Would you please open the gate? I’m here about the wedding.”

  “I’m not supposed to let in any cops or reporters.”

  “I’m none of the above.”

  “Prove it.”

  “C’mon. You know my voice by now, and I know you’ve got a camera on me. Look at this car. Would any self-respecting cop or reporter drive a piece of crap like this?”

  “No.” There was a hesitation. “Unless maybe you’re undercover or something.”

  “I’m the wedding planner. You’ve let me in nearly every day for the past week. Open the damn gate—pretty please.”

  I parked in my favorite spot close to the end of the driveway. As I walked toward the house I was once again rocked back on my heels by the stunning ocean view. White-capped waves crashed against the jagged black rocks of the breakwater. Kevin’s body had been battered by similar rocks only a few miles south.

  Stepping up to the door, I pulled myself up straight and put on my combat face. I waited, but the door didn’t swing open as it usually did when I approached. I knocked and waited some more. Nothing.

  I knocked again—loudly this time —then followed it up with a finger on the doorbell. I heard the bell chime a few bars of Aloha ‘Oe inside the foyer, but still no one came.

  Since the guard at the gate had let me in I was sure someone must be there. I stepped away from the front entrance and headed to my left—along the ma kai, or shoreline, side of the house—to check if maybe someone was on the lanai.

  Lisa Marie was stretched out on a lounge chair wearing only a pale pink bikini bottom. Her bare fried-egg breasts and shaved head glowed ghostly white in the mid-day sun. She sported oversized dark aviator sunglasses that covered most of her sunken cheeks. Her overall appearance brought to mind a gigantic insect larva.

  I hoisted myself onto the low rock wall that circled the lanai. I was about to jump down on the other side over when a hand grabbed my upper arm in a crunching grip.

  “Where you think you’re going?” said a man, six feet tall and at least half that wide. I recognized his growling voice from the security gate. His kukui nut-brown skin and lion’s mane of frizzy orange-tipped black hair stood in sharp contrast to his blazing white teeth. I pegged him as Fijian. His fierce grin reminded me that Fijians didn’t abandon cannibalism until the late 1800’s. I sent up a prayer he’d gotten the memo.

  “Whew, you scared me.” I said.

  “You supposed to wait at the door,” he rumbled. His jutting unibrow shaded squinting eyes. “No one allowed back here.”

  “Sorry. I knocked and rang the bell but nobody came. Then I noticed Lisa Marie out here. She’s the person I need to talk to.”

  “Go back and wait at the door.” He gripped my arm tighter, pulling me off balance. I had no choice except to scramble back down the way I’d come. Once I regained my footing, I looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on Lisa Marie. Though he was no doubt tempted to stay and gawk, the opportunity to shove me around must have appealed to him even more. He hauled me toward the front entry, taking such long strides I could barely keep up. I flexed my bicep, hoping to stave off a nasty upper arm bruise. He stiffened his grip in response.

  Josie waited at the open front door. The security guy heaved me forward with a shove, then wordlessly stalked off.

  “I so sorry,” she said. “I was in the kitchen and the bell comes and I had to turn off the cooking, and …” She prattled on, anxiety raising her voice to a squeak.

  “Are you okay, Josie?” I said.

  “Oh, Miss Moon. Is terrible. First Mr. Brad is lost, and now Mr. Kevin drowned….” She picked up the hem of her apron and dabbed at her eyes.

  “I know. I came down here to talk to Lisa Marie about the wedding.”

  “There can be no wedding!” She shrieked as if I’d suggested her first-born son step in as the new proxy.

  “No, of course not. We need to talk about cancelling the wedding.”

  She nodded and motioned for me to follow her to the sunroom. It was in deep shadow now, the windows tightly shuttered. I couldn’t see outside, but I knew Lisa Marie was stretched out only a few feet away on the other side of the windows. Josie offered me a seat; then crossed the room and opened the exterior door.

  I heard muffled conversation through the half-open door. A half-minute later Josie reappeared and gestured for me to come outside.

  “She not feeling good,” she whispered. “Please say only happy t
alk.”

  Like that left much to say.

  “Hi, Lisa Marie.” I gave her a little wave. “How’re you doing?” She didn’t respond. I pulled a wicker chair over next to her and sat down.

  She reached down and picked up a pareo—a Tahitian shawl—and draped it across her shoulders, covering her bare bosom.

  I waited for her to say something, and when she didn’t, I did what most people do when faced with dead air: I started blathering.

  “Wow, what a rough morning, huh? You look pretty darn good, considering everything that’s happened. And check out that view—like they say, another beautiful day in paradise.” I looked out toward the islands of Lana’i and Kaho’olawe glistening on the horizon. “Looks like the rain has finally let up for a while….”

  I yammered on, doing color commentary on island life in general and nothing in particular. When I finally took a breath, she let out a sigh with so much hurt behind it I wanted to lean over and give her a hug.

  “You look like shit,” she said. “Is that what you’re planning to wear to my wedding rehearsal this afternoon?” She pointed to my shorts and tee-shirt.

  “No.” I mentally kicked myself for even considering the hug.

  “It starts in two hours,” she said. “Don’t you think you should change?”

  I stood up, fighting the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled. I imagined dramatically slapping her pale sunken cheek. She’d blink a couple of times and then say, Thanks, I needed that. Okay, not gonna happen, but it was a satisfying fantasy.

  “Lisa Marie, I need to talk to your dad. Do you know where he is?”

  “He left.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Who cares? Tina said they’d be gone for a few hours.”

  “What did your dad say when he saw your hair?” Or rather, your total lack of hair.

  “What do you think? He yelled at me.”

  “That’s it?”

  “You want details? Okay, he called me a whack-job and told me I look like hell. Then he said he was done trying to help me be normal.”

  “Lisa Marie, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Her eyes flashed. “No! I’m sick, sick, sick of your bad news. If you say one more word I’ll have security throw you out.”