A Killing in Kula (Maui Mayhem Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Aysia Amery

  “Did he treat others the way he did you and your mom?” Pako asked.

  “Yeah, everybody who he thought was a peon. He didn’t treat his clients or his friends that way. It made me sick to watch Mr. Hyde turn to Dr. Jekyll in front of those who he wanted to impress. What a two-face. I lost respect for my dad a long time ago.”

  If what Lance said was true, Tony didn’t do a good job being a role model for his son. He missed out on not only his love but having someone who looked up to him, who would’ve idolized him and been hanging on his every word as though he were a sage, like I did my own dad. Very sad indeed.

  I’d hate to pass judgement on the guy without hearing his side of the story. Unfortunately, that would be difficult to do through pantomime.

  “Your mom said you left the same time she did. Around 11:15 a.m.” It always surprised me that Pako didn’t need to write down the details. His memory stored data like a computer would. Mind boggling.

  “Yes, I dropped her off at her appointment and met a friend down in Haiku for lunch.”

  Pako paused, probably searching his thoughts for any more questions to ask.

  “Do you have anything else to say about your dad?” He was winding things up.

  “Don’t have much else I can say about him. You might wanna talk to my uncle, my dad’s brother. He might be able to tell you things I didn’t know about. If he had a good side to him, I sure never saw it. Or maybe I didn’t want to since it was easier to hate him than to have that love/hate thing going on. I didn’t need him in my life. I’m happier and better off without him.”

  If Tony was indeed a Mr. Hyde, the list of possible suspects could be as long as a hundred leis strung end to end.

  “Did your dad have an office?” I asked.

  Lance had that ‘damn, she can speak’ look on his face. “Yeah, he did.”

  “Can we see it?”

  “Sure.”

  As he led us away, my intuition nudged me. There may be some important clues to be had in that room. Yes, indeedee.

  :: Chapter 6 ::

  “Wow, this place looks like the Maui Ocean Center,” I said as my eyes made a panoramic sweep of Min’s office.

  I exaggerated, of course. It resembled more closely a pet shop’s tropical fish section. Smaller aquarium tanks, like the majority found at a pet store, lined one wall. They sat five in a row and two-high atop each other.

  Larger tanks that were double the size of the smaller ones landscaped another wall, while triple-sized tanks sat on staggered pedestals similar to an art museum. Those housed some fish almost two feet long, along with crustaceans and an octopus.

  On the end, set in the corner niche, a tall, cylindrical tank illuming in fluorescent blue encapsulated what must’ve been over 20 jellyfish. I almost let out a gasp. The fluidity of the transparent creatures as they billowed like parachutes among each other in a sensual dance, along with the luminescence of color surrounding them, reminded me of those lava lamps that could captivate you into staring at them for hours.

  “Besides golf, tending to his aquariums was my dad’s other hobby.” Lance’s voice snapped me out of my trance. “He tried to collect as many different sea creatures as he could. Some of them, my uncle caught.”

  A cell rang. The ringtone wasn’t one of mine, and Pako didn’t reach for his cell, so that left Lance’s.

  “Sorry, I have to take this call.”

  “Go right ahead,” Pako said with a single nod.

  With his cell phone to his ear, Lance acknowledged his caller and left the room. Relief pervaded me when his chaperoning ended because if Tony’s ghost showed up, I’d be able to talk with him again.

  “This is quite a collection,” Pako said. The aquariums impressed him as they did me. “All he needed was a shark, whale, and dolphin and he could’ve charged admission.”

  “No kidding.”

  “You gonna try to summon the guy?” Pako asked.

  “I should, yeah, now that the son is gone.”

  I glanced at the door. “Pako, you wanna shut that?” By my head gesture and where my eyes were focused, he knew just where I meant.

  Without answering me, Pako closed the office door, then headed over to the jellyfish tank.

  “Tony Min, can you hear me? I need to talk with you again.”

  My eyes glanced around, but this time, nothing.

  “Tony, I—”

  My sentence cut short as Maile’s apparition appeared.

  “Maile’s showed up instead,” I told Pako.

  He turned to look at me. “Is she doing anything?”

  “She’s walking over toward one of the fish tanks.” I pointed to the large tank about three feet from where Pako stood.

  I sauntered over to stand next to her. “What is it, Maile? Is there something wrong?”

  She nodded and pointed to the tank.

  Maile wasn’t good at pantomiming, so I normally just asked questions and hoped she could answer with a yes or no or by pointing to things.

  “Is it something inside the tank?” I asked. Maybe it has to do with one of the fish.

  There was a spotted pufferfish, two angelfish, and a few clownfish. There was another fish with an orange band starting just past its eye, stretching horizontally to the middle of its length. I couldn’t tell you its name because I had no clue what it was.

  She shook her head. Hmm. So it isn’t inside the tank. If she had nodded, I might’ve thought the pufferfish, because they can be toxic if not prepared right. But it didn’t seem these fish were for eating. They were pets. So what about the tank then?

  “Does it have to do with water?” Shoot. I said that without thinking. Water is in the tank, so that can’t be it. She may be only ten, but she knows that difference.

  She answered with a shake of her head, even though she probably knew I was admonishing myself. Maile was a smart kid for her age, and insightful beyond her years.

  “Is something missing from the tank?” Okay, this question made sense. I mean, that’s the next logical thing, right? It has something to do with the tank, so if it’s not something in it now, it must be something that was in it before. I hoped I was right.

  She nodded. All right! We’re on to something here.

  “Pako, take a picture of this tank.” I pointed to it even though he should know which one. I was standing right in front of it.

  He snapped a few shots at different angles with his cell phone.

  I continued talking with my sister while Pako diddled on his display. “Is what’s missing from the tank a fish?”

  She nodded again. Okay, this was going somewhere fast.

  I heard a chime on my cell, figuring that Pako must’ve sent me a copy of the photos.

  “Do you know what kind of fish?”

  She shook her head. Yeah, she probably wouldn’t have been able to pantomime me that anyway since that hardly ever worked with her.

  It’s not like she never played the game, but she wasn’t good at it. And because of that, she hated charades. It frustrated her. That’s why I never forced her to communicate with me in that way. The first couple of times we tried it, she squirmed and then vanished before I was done talking with her.

  “That’s okay, Maile. Thank you for helping me again.”

  My little sister smiled at me just before she faded into the air.

  “Maybe the son or wife knows what was in that tank,” I told Pako.

  “When the son comes back, we can ask him,” he replied. “It always boggles my mind how your sister knows these things.”

  “Yeah, it is weird because not even the victim’s ghost knows what she knows most of the time if they didn’t outright see their murderer do it.”

  For a moment, my eyes focused on the fish in the large tank. “Say, Pako, what’s this fish? The one with the orange band.”

  “That’s a surgeonfish.”

  “Ah.”

  Well, it didn’t seem like Tony Min was going to make an appearance in his office, so the
re wasn’t much more we could do here today. As I mentioned before, if he died outdoors, it could be he was stuck haunting only in that area. He might not be able to come back into the house. I never did ask a ghost if that was true or not, but it sure seemed to be the case sometimes.

  The handle on the door turned and in walked the son. “Sorry. It was a business call,” he said.

  As he walked toward us, Pako asked, “Is there a fish missing from this tank?”

  Lance had a ‘that’s a strange question’ look on his face. “I can’t say that I know the answer to that. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Just wondered if this tank had a fish that was removed from it just before your dad’s death.”

  Pako’s answer still didn’t seem to make sense to Lance. Well, he didn’t get the ghost memo, so what can you expect?

  “My uncle might be able to answer your question. He cared about these fish like my dad did. He’s taking care of the tanks now until my mom decides what to do with them. Marine aquariums aren’t easy to take care of. My uncle might end up taking them.”

  “You don’t want ‘em?” Pako asked.

  “Nah. It’s too much work. I don’t have the passion for marine fishkeeping like my dad or uncle. I’d rather catch ‘em and eat the damn things.”

  I guess I couldn’t blame him with the level of upkeep involved. Probably dang expensive too. But what a shame not being able to enjoy this spectacular sight everyday while working in here. This office was a museum of aquariums that was admission-worthy.

  Oh well, hopefully these aquatic creatures will get a good home where they’ll be appreciated and cared for. Won’t be me, however. When we were kids, our first pets were mini green turtles, and I’m embarrassed to say that after only a few months they’d be flipped over on their backs, and not because they were basking in the glorious sunshine.

  After it happened twice, we agreed it was best to give up on bringing those little critters into the family. It was heartbreaking; they were our pets. Don’t know what made them keel over so fast. I don’t recall us doing anything to traumatize them. We loved those little guys.

  My brother dug a small grave, and we wrapped them in toilet paper before setting them into the ground.

  Even now I can envision my fingers entwined with Maile’s (she was four at the time, I was seven and my brother nine) while Aku’s fingers entwined mine. We bowed our heads, and as our tears spilled, we said a short prayer.

  I have to tell you, that whole experience shattered my confidence as a pet owner. Even till this day, after all these years, that traumatic episode stayed with me. Don’t laugh. Yes, I know they were just turtles, not the same as a dog or cat, but still, when you’re a kid and become fond of your pet, even if it were a rodent, it hits you where it hurts.

  “We appreciate your help and cooperation,” Pako said to Lance.

  “Sure, no problem.” He escorted us to the front door. “Did you need to speak to my mother before you leave?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. If we have any further questions, I’ll contact you both again.”

  Lance picked up the folded piece of paper that sat on a table butted against the wall close to the entrance. He unfolded it, read it, then folded it again. “Here’s that list you wanted.”

  Pako took it from him.

  “I take it you’ll be calling on my uncle next.” Lance said that like a statement, not a question.

  “Are you close to your uncle?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Sometimes I wish he had been my father. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably be more messed up. When I was a teen, he helped me through some rough times. I might not be alive today if he didn’t bail me out.”

  Sounded like the uncle was the role model Lance wanted and needed growing up.

  “Anyway, when you talk to my uncle, he can fill you in on the rest of what you need about my dad.”

  We said our goodbyes, and Lance closed the door behind us.

  Pako and I looked at each other. We both lifted our eyebrows at the same time. I swear, the way we thought so much alike at times, we could’ve been Siamese twins. I’m sure he found that visit as interesting as I did.

  “Are we seeing the uncle today?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  That’s good. After what the wife and son said, I was curious how the uncle fit into all this. Sounds like he spent a fair amount of time with his nephew to make that kind of impression on him. Wonder what his relationship with his brother was like. Guess we’ll soon find out.

  “What did you think?” I asked Pako.

  “You mean about whether one of those two could’ve offed Min?”

  “Yup.” We were already back at the car by this time.

  “They looked nervous, but not in the way of hiding a crime. But it’s possible. Both sure had reason to if Min was as they described him to be,” he said.

  “Yeah, I was surprised about that. His ghost didn’t give any of that away, although I didn’t spend enough time with him to get enough of a feel. Also he can’t be verbally abusive via pantomime, thank goodness.”

  As Pako drove, I looked at the list to see what the uncle’s name was. Nolan. He lived in Pukalani, which was still upcountry, so he was but five minutes away.

  Okay, Uncle Nolan, here we come.

  :: Chapter 7 ::

  Nolan Min did not look anything like his brother. Standing at around 6-foot 2 with broad shoulders and sinuous biceps, he resembled a linebacker. At his age, which was early sixties, he must work out as religiously as an altar boy attended church.

  Pako didn’t seem intimidated by the brawny man, but then Mr. Detective was built like a Ford Raptor himself. But Pako was a good twenty years his junior, so I’d have to present the Impressive Award to the older man just for his age.

  After the introductions, we sat out on his porch.

  “We just came from your brother’s place and talked with his wife and son. We’d like to ask you a few questions pertaining to your brother and your relationship with him. We’d also appreciate whatever else you feel we should know about.”

  Nolan drew his brows together. “Was there something more to Tony’s death?” he asked.

  “For now we’re just making inquiries. The full forensic report hasn’t crossed my desk yet.”

  “I see.” Nolan shifted in his seat. It didn’t seem like a nervous shift, but more like a bothered one.

  “Were you at the farm that day?”

  Nolan looked out at the private road that led into his driveway. He then brought his attention back on Pako. “Yes, I go over quite often. I don’t miss a Saturday if I can help it.”

  “What time did you arrive and leave?” Pako was methodical with his questioning.

  “I usually get there around 8:30 a.m. That day I left around the same time Elaine and Lance did. Elaine had an appointment, and Lance drove her. I walked out with them to the car.”

  “Did you go back home?”

  “No, I went diving.” He glanced at me, and I smiled.

  “Did you at any time go back to the farm that day?”

  “No. After the dive I went home.”

  “Did you and your brother get along?” There was no pausing between questions.

  Nolan squirmed again, then crossed his arms.

  I knew Pako caught that, although it didn’t necessarily mean anything. He could’ve just been uncomfortable both physically, sitting on these wrought iron chairs, and being asked a lot of questions. This particular one might’ve made him tense as a fishing line being snagged by a marlin though. From the relationship Tony had with his wife and son, the one with his brother might not have been all that dissimilar.

  “Well, to be honest, we had our differences. I don’t know what Elaine and Lance told you, but my brother wasn’t a very nice guy. He had issues.” He paused as though his mind drifted to another place—a time in his past, perhaps? When he snapped out of that moment, he continued, “But I guess we all do.”

  Yes,
we sure do. I haven’t yet met anyone who didn’t have some baggage they still carried around, creating issues in their life now and then. We learn to deal with them in order to go on, but do we ever really let them go completely, even if we think we have? Hard to say. I know there’s been issues in my life that I thought I’d gotten over, but yet they float to the surface, like those dang unconcealable fart bubbles, when my buttons are pushed.

  “I was always in Tony’s shadow with my dad. Tony was more like him, so he was Dad’s favorite. As we got older, Tony took more interest in the farm, while I didn’t want much to do with it. I was into sports and surfing. Diving too.”

  “We heard you caught some of the fish for your brother’s aquarium,” I said.

  He nodded at me. “Yeah, I did.”

  “We’ll get back to that,” Pako intervened. He had a sequence to his questioning, so I took it he wanted to hear more about the family dynamics. I did too actually. “Tell us more about your relationship with you, your brother and your dad.”

  “I didn’t get along much with my father. He wanted me to be more like Tony, and I just wasn’t interested in the same things they were. I finally got fed up with being compared, so I got a job with an activities diving tour, left the farm, and got my own place.”

  “How old were you?” I asked. Don’t know why that mattered, but like the Pandora that I am, it was merely curiosity.

  “I was twenty-one.”

  “Did you inherit half the farm when your parents died?” Pako asked.

  When Nolan cocked his eyebrows in surprise, Pako added, “Tony’s wife told us you lost your parents in a car accident.”

  “Yeah, it was a head-on collision.” His expression turned solemn. “I was just sorry that my mom was in the car. She was a fine woman and a good mother.”

  Thank goodness that in a family where a child doesn’t get along with one parent, the other keeps that child afloat to care enough. And it doesn’t matter who’s at fault, whether it’s the parent or child being misunderstood in the miscommunication that causes the rift between them; as long as the child can turn to the other parent, then all hope in the child feeling a belongingness in the family is not lost.