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

by Aysia Amery

  But what do I know? I don’t even have kids. But I can relate to things and compare them to my own life and that of relatives and friends. These dysfunctional relationships happen all the time.

  “Anyway, to answer your question...my father must’ve really hated me, because he left the farm to Tony. I got some cash from mutual funds and their IRAs, but that was it.” His teeth gritted. I imagine he was a bit bitter about that.

  “But then, I guess I wasn’t willing to work the farm, so my dad probably figured: why should I get part of it? Tony could’ve bought my share out though. He makes good money from the protea business. I helped out on the farm as a kid and up until I turned eighteen, so I felt it was kinda unfair. I didn’t expect half, but at least a quarter-share. I know this sounds bad, but I was pissed. I wasn’t wealthy; I could’ve used the money from my share of the farm. I would’ve started my own activities diving business.”

  Well, bitterness could certainly be a motive for murder. Tony’s wife and son would inherit the farm, so Nolan was SOL in that respect.

  “I can’t say I’m sorry that my brother’s gone. The way he treated Elaine and Lance, their lives are better off without him.”

  Almost the exact same sentiments that Lance had.

  “I’m not sure why she even stayed married to him for so long. She didn’t love him.” His words were sharp as a tiger shark’s teeth. “She should’ve left him years ago.”

  Whoa. Nolan’s sure making his feelings known pretty clearly. And here I thought he’d be shut tighter than a clam. Goes to show, you can’t prejudge people. Best to just expect the unexpected.

  “Tony was abusive. Did Elaine mention that?”

  “No, but the son did,” Pako replied.

  “Yeah, Elaine doesn’t like to talk badly about people, especially not to strangers. That woman deserved better. I would’ve taken her and Lance away from there if I could’ve supported them.”

  Okay, that said a lot. Looks like Elaine wasn’t just a sister-in-law to Nolan. Was he in love with her? Sure sounded that way. Not only in what he said, but how he said it and the cracking in his voice as though it hurt him to say her name.

  “You don’t know how many times I wanted to cream Tony when I’d find out how he treated her. I spent a fair amount of time with Lance when he was growing up, so he’d fill me in on all this crap.” He gushed like a flowing faucet.

  “The only reason I held back was because Elaine would plead with me not to do anything. It was hard as hell, but I did as she asked. I’d do anything for her.”

  Oh, he was smitten all right. Having to be around someone you couldn’t have or protect had to be as agitating as diaper rash.

  This tidbit now gave two strikes against Nolan with motives for wanting Tony dead. Bitterness, and making the woman he loved a widow. I wonder if Elaine felt the same. What the heck, I’m gonna ask him. Pandora strikes again.

  “You sound as though you love her.” I gotta build up to it since he didn’t outright come out and say it.

  Nolan stared at me as though I’d just blurted out a naughty word. “Uh, is it that obvious?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. I shined him an empathetic smile, hoping to make him feel less embarrassed. “Does she know?”

  “Yeah, she does.” He turned off the faucet and now only dripped out what he was asked.

  “Does she love you too?”

  At that moment, Nolan took in a deep breath. His eyes, and the way his forehead crinkled, told me he was about to reveal something that he probably shouldn’t.

  “I’ll probably regret telling you this, but...yes, she loved me too. Lance is my kid, not Tony’s.”

  Yikes! That came out of the left banana patch. Since Lance was in his late thirties, that meant...

  “We’ve been in love for a long time.” Yeesh, everybody seemed to be psychic these days.

  “Does Lance know you’re his father?” I was kinda taking over the questioning now. Pako didn’t seem to mind. He sat there as interested as I was in these disclosures.

  “No. We’ve never told him.”

  “Did Tony know?” I was on a roll.

  “No. At least I don’t think so. He never confronted me about it if he did.”

  Yeah, he probably didn’t know. A man like the way his family described wouldn’t have let that go so easily.

  “So, were you and Elaine having an affair for all these years?” I was getting pretty dang personal. But as long as he answered, why stop? We needed as much info as possible. It would help the case.

  Did that sound like BS? Okay, a lot of it was just for my own nosiness, I confess.

  “Earlier on we did, but when we hit our mid-fifties, we didn’t...you know...as much. By that time, even though we weren’t married, we acted like an old married couple. It was mostly Elaine. I still wanted her physically, but she lost her libido once she hit menopause and needed me more emotionally from then on.”

  Okay, that was too much information, but that’s okay.

  “We’re more like very close friends now, I guess. Saturdays are my days to go over to the farm to see Elaine and Lance. Lance is who I spend most of my time with.”

  He straightened his back, then leaned forward in his seat.

  “So, you mentioned something about the fish I caught for Tony’s aquarium?” Guess Nolan wanted to change the subject. The personal exposure had to be uncomfortable for him. It would be for anybody.

  “We were told that you are currently taking care of them.” Pako pulled out his cell phone, swiped his finger over it a few times, then turned it to face Nolan. “Is there a fish missing from this tank?”

  I watched Nolan’s eyes as he stared at the display.

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope. They’re all there.”

  “Are you sure? Just before your brother died, there wasn’t a fish in there that’s now gone? Please take another look.”

  Nolan’s eyes perused the image again. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Hmm. Maile distinctly indicated that a fish was missing from that tank. She’s hardly wrong. In fact, I can’t remember anytime she had been mistaken when feeding me a clue. She seemed omniscient in the afterlife, but then again, not quite because she didn’t know things about her own death—unless she just didn’t want to tell me.

  Nolan glanced at his watch. “Is there anything else?” he asked. “I have to be somewhere in about a half-hour.”

  Pako looked at me, his eyebrows shifting, silently asking me if I had anything more to ask. I shook my head.

  “I think we’re done here for now,” Pako said as his chair backed up.

  Nolan and I rose at about the same time, following Pako’s lead.

  “Thank you for answering our questions,” I said.

  He didn’t answer verbally but gave a single nod of his head.

  “I’ll be in touch should we need to talk with you again,” Pako told him.

  “Okay, detective.”

  As we left Nolan’s property, I said to Pako, “That’s got to be hard knowing someone’s your son, yet you couldn’t let them know it.”

  “Yeah, must be,” was all Pako said.

  “What do you think?” I asked him.

  “About their affair?”

  “No, about whether he did it,” I scoffed. “For a detective, sometimes you’re clueless.” I sighed, though mostly in jest.

  “Well, you just changed the subject so abruptly. How the hell was I supposed to know you weren’t still talking about it?”

  “I thought you and I were like Siamese twins? You should know my every thought.”

  “Not even. Who’d want to be stuck to you?” He shook his head. “Not me.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, being stuck to you would be a nightmare. I’d take an axe to us myself if the doctors couldn’t split us.”

  “You are getting really gross, lady. Not to mention...scary,” the bruiser detective said.

  He sure could make me laugh.

  “Okay, s
o...” I said.

  “So, what?”

  I couldn’t believe it.

  “Are you, like, in on this conversation, Pako?” I gave him the ‘duh’ look.

  “I’m just jerkin’ your chain.”

  Yeah, like he always does. I should know better by now.

  “Hard to say yet. He’s got some reasons for wanting his bro dead, but did he do it? I didn’t get that vibe from him. Not once did he look nervous.” Pako was probably right.

  “Yeah, I noticed that too.” I did. Nolan might’ve been uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem like he had something to hide.

  “Let’s go have lunch, then we’ll visit the assistant.”

  I scanned Vandie’s list.

  “Helen Ryker,” I said aloud. She was also the bookkeeper. Seems she did most of the admin work.

  “We’ll just drop in on her. We’ve got no appointment,” Pako said.

  Hmm, I wondered what juicy tidbits that woman would have to tell. Did she know about Elaine and Nolan’s affair? Usually most men are clueless with picking up signals where that’s concerned, but most women zero in on it, especially if the two parties were always around each other. You can’t hide glances that disclose one’s affinity for another. I would be able to spot that going on.

  Anyway, we shall soon see what Helen Ryker knows.

  This case was getting more intriguing by the minute.

  :: Chapter 8 ::

  Quite frankly, if it weren’t for me, Pako would be happy eating burgers and plate lunches with two scoops of white rice, overly-mayo’d mac salad, and shoyu or gravy slathered all over his beef or pork every time we’d go on these excursions.

  I didn’t mind a burger or plate lunch every now and then, but c’mon, I’m an eclectic caterer, so I preferred a café or restaurant with a little more ‘foodie’ aspect to them, if possible. It was usually ‘my treat’ since he had two kids still in the early stages of puberty, and, well, I could afford the prices of these less greasy dining pleasures more than him. His ‘expenses to wage’ ratio was higher than mine.

  So I always grabbed the bill, even though he’d try to fight me for it. Not literally, of course. Pako could swat me across to the other wall with just his pinky if he wanted to. Of course he’d never do that, because I’d stick a pair of chili-pepper-covered chopsticks up his nostrils, and he’d then think twice about ever messin’ with me again.

  But again, I jest. Pako only used his brawn when it came to either defending himself, or apprehending a violent criminal. Otherwise, he was a teddy bear and sweetheart.

  Anyway, the only times I’d let him pay was when we’d bet lunch on our sleuthing hunches. We were equals in that respect, so we each had our share of plunking down the debit card on those events.

  Just as we were finishing lunch at the La Provence in Kula—a place of my choice, I might add—Pako got a call from his station, so our plans got thwarted and the big guy dropped me off at home to attend to the matter he was called upon. It looked as though we’d have to hold off on further interviews for now. Could be for a few days, even.

  Hmm, maybe not quite. If Pako were listening in on my internal conversation, he’d tell me to go bake a cake and wait until he was done with these other duties. But thank goodness he wasn’t psychic—and I wasn’t always apt to listen to him anyway.

  You know, sometimes when I read a cozy mystery and the protagonist is about to do something idiotic, I think to myself, Oh, for gosh sakes, she/he can’t be that stupid. But then I’d counter that with, Well, I guess if the protag always did the right thing, the dang story would be over without ever getting suspenseful. So, yeah, sometimes the protag had to do dimwitted things to move the story to the next level.

  Not saying I was going to do anything harebrained, but I could push the envelope just a little bit and do some snooping on my own without my detective friend, right?

  My husband would probably lock me in the closet if he knew how close I got sometimes to getting into some sticky situations. I’ve always gotten out of them though. Knock on koa wood.

  But first, I will bake a cake. Then tomorrow I’ll take it over to the Min’s farm and see if I can talk to the hired help. You never know what they know. Sometimes they see and hear things that the family isn’t aware of. Worth a try anyway.

  Now, what kind of cake should I make? Ah, a mango apricot upside-down cake with a caramel butter-rum glaze.

  * * *

  The next day after Blaine gave me a kiss goodbye and headed off to work, I ventured off to Kula with my mouth-watering dessert in hand to put my plan into action. I had also made an assortment of cookies to tantalize anyone on the premises who I might get to talk to me.

  Elaine greeted me at the door with a smile.

  “Good morning,” I said, reciprocating a smile back at her. “I made you a cake. I wanted to thank you for talking with us yesterday.”

  “Come in.” She beckoned me by opening the door wider. I took her invitation and stepped past her into her home.

  “That was nice of you. You didn’t need to do that. I would always cooperate with the police.”

  I handed her the cake box. Her eyes peer into the see-through plastic window on top. “This looks delicious,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip.

  “It’s a mango apricot upside-down cake,” I informed her, looking as though I’d just given birth to the darn thing and was handing out cigars. “I hope you like it.”

  “Is this what you cater? Cakes?” she asked.

  “I also create pacific rim cuisine and appetizers. I love doing cakes though. They’re my specialty.” If she knew how much I charged for my designer wedding and special occasion cakes, I’d be swaying smelling salt under her nostrils and helping her up from the floor.

  “Come. Let’s go to the kitchen and try some of your wonderful dessert with a cup of coffee,” she said.

  I hoped she’d say that. My feet didn’t hesitate to follow her lead. This gave me an opportunity to chat with her again. I bet more tidbits of delicious info could be gathered from her.

  Her kitchen was done up in a more country-style motif with furniture and cabinets made of light-colored wood, probably pine. A bouquet of protea, red ginger, and ferns garnished the middle of the kitchen table in a clear glass vase.

  Elaine poured me a cup of coffee that had already been brewed from a grounds-type coffee maker.

  “Thank you,” I said as I held the cup to my lips and inhaled a deep breath before taking a sip.

  Even though it wasn’t freshly brewed, the smell hit its mark. I loved the aroma of those roasted beans that carried your daydreams off to faraway places. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for Greece or the Caribbean right now, but it was soothing nonetheless. Although by the time I finish my cupful, I’ll be wired and far from soothed. Ha!

  After she served us both a piece of the cake, Elaine sat down in the chair perpendicular to me. Her fork dug into the moist, spongy delight as though careful not to create any crumbs.

  “Mmmm, this is wonderful,” she said as her eyes widened as though surprised that it would be.

  I just smiled, pleased that she enjoyed it.

  “My brother-in-law told me that you and the detective talked with him after you left here yesterday,” she said, not looking at me but rather at the dessert in front of her. Hmm, was she feeling a bit uncomfortable? Did Nolan tell her about what he disclosed to us?

  “Yes, Detective Anzo is wanting to talk with everyone who was here at the farm the day your husband passed away.”

  She now peered at me, her eyes fraught with melancholy as though her lover had just betrayed her. “I was surprised Nolan told you what he did. That really wasn’t any of the detective’s or your business.”

  I didn’t blame her for saying that. That was personal stuff, and if it were me, I wouldn’t want others knowing about it either. It surprised me that Nolan even said anything to her about our conversation. I guess he must’ve felt pangs of guilt later and didn’t want
it on his conscience, or perhaps didn’t want the consequences to be worse if she found out about it through us later. Voluntary confession had its advantages.

  “You have to understand that my husband wasn’t an easy man to get along with. I never really loved him to begin with. It was a marriage out of obligation.”

  Now that was interesting. What did she mean by that? In this day and age, unless you were from a country where arranged marriages were still a tradition, why would anybody agree to be bound to someone they didn’t love? That’s crazy.

  Even though Elaine was Asian, she wasn’t born in Korea; she’s a Korean American, in the same token that I’m a Japanese American. By the way, Blaine is Caucasian (and a mixture of too many countries to list) in case you’re wondering why my last name is Lee, which could also be Chinese or Korean as well, but nope, he’s a haole.

  Anyway, I could tell by the lack of a Korean accent to Elaine’s speech and from her pidgin intonations that she was from here, just like me and my parents. Or at least from one of the neighbor islands. Since she’s closer to my parents’ age than my own, she could be third generation, like them.

  Okay, I was gonna pry. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of obligation?”

  “As I had mentioned yesterday, our parents were friends, and ever since we were kids they had wanted our two families to join together. My parents constantly nagged me about it when I became of age. I’m not a strong person who speaks my mind or argues. I prefer to keep peace even at my own expense.”

  Oh my, this poor woman has probably been told what to do her entire life. First by her parents and then by her husband.

  “Nolan was there for me when times got really bad and I needed a shoulder to cry on. We didn’t mean to fall in love, and I never thought I’d be unfaithful, but it just happened. There’s no excuse for it, but I don’t regret it either.”

  “It must’ve been hard living with somebody who was verbally abusive,” I empathized.

  Elaine flinched. “I see Nolan told you about that too.”

  “Well, actually your son did. Nolan just repeated it.”

  The woman must’ve wondered: what didn’t we know?