Isle Be Seeing You (Islands of Aloha Mystery Book 9)

by JoAnn Bassett

  He flinched at the accusation. “I didn’t have to share this with you, you know.”

  I mumbled an apology, but it was about as heartfelt as his feigned irritation.

  “Don’t know. I was being très discreet, but I heard the clerk call her ‘Keoni.’ Not sure if that’s her name or just one of those ‘hey, girl’ kind of Hawaiian words.”

  “It’s a name,” I said. I absentmindedly wolfed down the second donut.

  “Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Mahalo. I’ve been trying to reach Doug since yesterday. Oh, and guess who finally called me this morning?”

  Steve grinned. “I thought you weren’t fond of guessing games.”

  “Sorry, you’re right. Anyway, it was Finn. He said they’re not in a safe place, after all. He didn’t sound good.” I wasn’t ready to share the rest of the message.

  “Did you ask when he’d be home?”

  “I didn’t get to talk to him. He called while I was in the shower.”

  Steve shoved the donut bag across the table. “Go ahead. You deserve another one.”

  ***

  I called Doug’s cell and home number at least ten times. The first few times I left detailed messages about how worried I was and how I much I needed to talk to him, but after call number five I simply hung up.

  At around nine-thirty I drove to the PoP and was startled to see a police car parked in front. The curb outside the guan is painted red, which means “No parking—ever,” but I suppose cops don’t worry about stuff like that.

  I pulled around to the alley and was surprised again by yellow crime scene tape crisscrossed on the jamb to the back door. The door was open, so I parked and walked over.

  A uniformed Maui Police officer stood just inside, playing doorman.

  “Good morning, Officer.”

  “Mornin’, Miss. I’m afraid you can’t go in.”

  “My name’s Pali Moon and this is where I train. I’m a black belt level student of Doug Kanekoa.”

  The guy shot me stink eye that seemed to say, “Goody for you, but you’re still not going in.”

  “Is Doug okay?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Oh, come on. I’m a local. I own a business just up the street from here. Tell me what’s going on with my sifu.”

  “The detective in charge is inside, but I got word they’re gettin’ ready to leave,” he said. “You can wait out here for him if you want.”

  After a couple of minutes, a plain clothes guy I’d never seen before ducked under the tape and began heading down the alley. The doorman cop nodded as he passed by.

  “That the guy?” I whispered.

  He nodded again.

  I hurried to catch up with the detective, practicing my most ingratiating smile as I went.

  I stuck out a hand. “Aloha, Detective. Pali Moon here. I train here at Palace of Pain and I’m a good friend of Doug Kanekoa’s. I’d be happy to answer any questions I can.”

  The cop looked way too young and green to be a lead detective, but I figured it made sense for the police department to send out the rookies on small-time stuff like minor domestic disputes.

  The guy shook my hand. “Oh, yeah? Well, here’s a question for you. Why do you think your so-called ‘good friend’ took off after calling in his wife’s murder?”

  ***

  I staggered back to my car, barely conscious of the short ride back to my shop. It’s a good thing I always park in the same spot because I was totally running on auto-pilot. Before even checking in at my shop I went next door to the Gadda.

  Farrah rushed the door as I came in. “Did you hear?” She’d said it so quickly it came out sounding like, “Da chair.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m dumbfounded.”

  She leaned in and said, “Lani’s gone? I can’t believe it.”

  I nodded, unable to say anything without choking up.

  “Have you seen Doug?”

  “I’ve called and called. But he’s not picking up. The police said he called them, but now he’s missing.”

  Farrah wrung her hands. “Okay, sure, they had that little rumble at Cisco’s the other night, but it didn’t sound like nothin’ nuclear. This is, like, blowing everyone’s mind.”

  “I can’t imagine what happened.”

  She blew out a breath. “Like, I wasn’t tight with Doug like you are, but he always seemed to be a totally righteous dude. Never heard of him losin’ it. And from what everybody said about last Friday, when Lani was comin’ unglued at Cisco’s he kept the Zen goin’. Never yelled or nuthin’.”

  I kept quiet but I agreed. In all the time I’d known Doug, I’d seen him angry, but I’d never seen him lose his temper and extract physical vengeance beyond the confines of the guan. In martial arts, we call it, “leaving it on the mat,” and Doug had been adamant that people who trained with him had to do just that.

  Finally I said, “What’ve you heard?”

  If anyone knew what the locals were saying, it’d be Farrah. The Gadda served as the best place in town to find something to chew on, both literally and figuratively.

  “Everyone’s saying that after Doug and Lani duked it out at Cisco’s he must’ve just lost it. Weird thing is, a guy claims he saw Doug’s car at the Palace of Pain this morning. The cops went there looking for him, but he’s in the wind.”

  I hated to ask, because I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear the answer, but I went ahead anyway. “How did she die?”

  Farrah pointed a finger at her temple. “Shot. In the noggin’.”

  I leaned in and we collapsed into a long hug.

  “It’s so horrible,” I said when we finally stepped back.

  “Yeah. Totally.”

  “I have to find Doug.”

  “When you do, tell him to turn himself in, Pali. It’s getting’ gnarly.”

  After a few beats, Farrah suddenly perked up. “Hey, on a groovier level, guess what?”

  Farrah was big on guessing games, even when there was absolutely no way I could’ve figured out the answer. But after thirty years of friendship I’d given up hope of side-stepping the guess-a-thons, so I played along.

  “You’re selling the store and moving to Thailand?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Okay, how about Ono found a big sack of diamonds and when he turned it in the owner gave him a million-dollar reward.”

  “No, but that’d be way cool.”

  “Last one. You traced your genealogy and you’re a third cousin, once-removed to Princess Kate of England.”

  “Nah. But that’d be way groovy, too. Do you think that would make me a princess-once-removed?”

  My patience was being profoundly tested and Farrah must’ve sensed it, because she hurriedly continued.

  “Anyhow, I talked to the kahu and he’s coming over this week to do the blessing.” She beamed as if Ono really had found a sack of diamonds.

  “That sounds promising. And you’re sure the guy’s legit?”

  “For sure. He’s got all kinds of far out testimonials on his website, and when I talked to him, he seemed ultra-psyched to help.”

  “When’s he coming?”

  “Not completely sure, but probably Friday. Can you make it?”

  “After the wedding on Tuesday I don’t have anything booked until next month. So, yeah. If you want me there, I’ll be there.”

  “Cool.” She gave me another hug, this one just a quick body squeeze. “I can’t tell you how blissed out I’m gonna feel when this is pau, you know, over. I’ve been, like, a jumpy cat every night since that dude showed up with his gnarly face and that freaky blade.”

  “I can’t imagine,” I said.

  And honestly, I couldn’t.

  I trotted back to my shop considering my options. I had to find Sifu Doug and see what I could do to help, but I also had a wedding to put on the next day. I didn’t know how long it would take to find Doug, but I could line up everything
needed for the wedding pretty quickly. So, first things first. I vowed to set aside thoughts of the Doug and Lani situation and focus on finalizing the plans for Tuesday’s ceremony.

  As I waited on hold for Bobby from Maui Winery to check inventory and make sure the wine I’d agreed to buy was in stock, my mind drifted to wondering how Doug’s kids were doing. The two kids, a boy and a girl, were in their early teens, a rough time in life as it is. Now they were motherless. And, I’d gotten a strong sense from Detective Ho he had their father at the top of the list of suspects.

  A click signaled Bobby was back on the line. “We have everything, but we can only sell you two bottles of the Lehua. It’s one of our most popular wines so we limit it to two per customer.”

  I waited to hear what he’d suggest in place of the other three bottles of Lehua I’d requested.

  “Sorry about that. Would you like to stick with your order, which would make it just nine bottles, or do are you want to add some others?”

  “Can I only order nine?”

  “Certainly. The one-case minimum is merely a recommendation. For your small party a lesser amount is sufficient.”

  When he toted up the charges, it was a relief I was only on the hook for nine bottles. The total was close to two-hundred-and-fifty dollars. I’d have a nice collection of wines to pick from when Finn made us a special dinner, but it’d wipe out my entire commission for the Alex and Kat wedding.

  That thought stopped me cold. Not the lost commission, but the point about Finn making dinner. Was he even going to be around? Or was I reading more doom and gloom into his messages than was warranted? After all, he was far from home doing military skullduggery I’m not at liberty to know about. That had to be a factor in his despondent attitude.

  I spent the next hour pushing back thoughts of Doug and Lani as I finalized plans for the ceremony. Farrah used to officiate at my weddings but since she’d had the twins she’d taken a leave of absence. The guy I’d gotten to take her place was a tidy fifty-something guy who looked like he’d been in insurance on the mainland. I wasn’t sure what his principle means of support was now that he’d moved to Maui, but figured it best not to pry.

  I called and clued him in on the couple’s religious views and he offered to throw in a few appropriate Bible verses and end the ceremony with a windy blessing and an extended prayer.

  “No additional charge,” he said.

  I continued with my checklist. The couple had agreed to drive themselves to the venue so I didn’t have to bother finding a limo, and they’d agreed to hosting a casual wedding dinner of burgers and salad at the ‘Ulupalakua Ranch Store across the street.

  I called Steve to confirm the time and to see if he’d mind driving the two of us up there a bit early so we could stash the wine in his trunk.

  “It’ll cost you,” he said.

  “Okay, I’ll tack another half-hour onto your bill.”

  “No, don’t worry about that. What I mean is, I’ll take it out in wine. Last Saturday I told a guy at the Ball and Chain I was shooting a wedding at the winery and he got positively dewy-eyed over their pineapple bubbly. It’ll give me a good reason to call him.”

  “You’re already back on the market? You and Allen only broke up a week ago.”

  “Hey, I don’t want to give Allen the satisfaction of thinking I’m pouty and miserable. And besides, can’t you hear it?”

  “Hear what?”

  “The tick-tock. Neither of us is getting any younger, you know.”

  He’d come perilously close to Finn’s final line on his message that morning.

  “Fine,” I said. “You’re more than welcome to a bottle of the sparkling wine. That stuff gives me a headache anyway.”

  “Uh-oh. Sounds like you’ve started without me.”

  “Started what?”

  “Your pity party.” He went on in a falsetto voice, ‘Ms. Pity, party of one.’”

  “Look, I’ve gotta go.”

  “You coming home for dinner? I’m thinking of making my specialty.”

  “After I finish here at the shop I’m heading to Doug’s place. I should be home by seven. Dare I ask what’s your specialty?”

  “You can ask, but I won’t know ‘til I make it. Dinner’s at seven. Don’t be late.”

  We hung up and I made two more phone calls, one to the Ranch Store and one final call to Doug’s cell. I’d crossed off everything on my wedding checklist and it was only four-thirty.

  I locked up, confident I’d be home for dinner with time to spare.

  CHAPTER 10

  I turned onto Doug and Lani’s street in Pukalani but only got a few houses down before coming to a police barricade. A uniformed cop took his time sidling over to my driver’s side window.

  “Your license, please.”

  “My license? What’d I do wrong, Officer?”

  “Nuthin’. But this road’s closed to people who don’ live here, so we’re checking licenses.”

  “I live in Hali’imaile. I came to help a friend who lives here.”

  “Sorry. Nobody but residents.”

  I did a three-point turn and drove back the way I came. I parked on a street two blocks away and zigged and zagged through unfenced yards until I came out a few houses down from Doug’s. The Kanekoa residence was a beehive of activity.

  The garage door was open and a canopy was set up in the driveway. Uniformed police guarded the perimeter of the property. A sweaty ali’i-size cop standing near the canopy looked like he’d been there a while. His vacant expression, slumped shoulders, and mouth pulled down in a fatigued frown gave me an idea.

  I trotted back through the neighbors’ yards and drove to the supermarket on Pukalani Street. I grabbed a couple of sports drinks out of the cooler and got three hot dogs and packets of various condiments from the hot foods section. In the candy aisle I picked up a couple of king-size Snickers bars, and I swung by the produce section for some apple bananas.

  I returned to my former parking spot and retraced my path to Doug’s house. The big cop was still standing guard, his back to me. As I approached, he whirled around as I noisily stomped through the gravel.

  “Stop right there.”

  I held out the grocery bag while reading the name tag above his pocket. “Officer Puno. Thought you might’ve missed lunch.”

  He shot me a guarded look.

  “It’s nothing big. Just a couple hot dogs and snacks. Also some Gatorade. It’s good to stay hydrated, you know.”

  The cop warily reached for the bag. He looked around as if checking to see if anyone was watching, then dug out the foil-wrapped hot dogs.

  “They supposed to relieve me hours ago,” he said. “Been here all day.”

  “There’s ketchup and mustard in there.”

  “Mahalo, but I take ‘em plain.” He unwrapped a hot dog and pushed half of it into his mouth.

  While he munched, I talked. “Pretty weird what went down here, eh?”

  He swallowed. “Yeah. Poor lady. Looks like some low-life broke in.”

  “I heard they were lookin’ at the husband.”

  “Don’ know ‘bout that, but the window in back’s busted out. When we first got here I did the initial recon and saw the busted window.”

  I pointed to the canopy. “What’s going on in there?”

  He’d shoved the rest of the hot dog in his mouth so I waited while he chewed.

  “That’s where they found her. Took all day for forensics to show up. I guess they called in the big guns from Honolulu.”

  “You think they’ll be finishing up soon?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to say. They don’ tell guys like me much.” He reached in and retrieved another hot dog.

  “What about the other people in the house? I heard they’ve got a couple of kids.”

  “Not sure ‘bout that, but last I heard there’s still no sign of the husband.”

  “Is he a suspect?”

  “What’s with it with you? You a reporter or some
thin’? We’re not s’posed to talk to reporters.”

  “I’m not a reporter, I’m a concerned neighbor. You know, Neighborhood Watch. This is a safe neighborhood so people are asking.”

  Okay, there was a smidgen of truth there. I’m a member of my local Neighborhood Watch in Hali’imaile, and I was sure the people on Doug’s block were all dying to know what was going down at the Kanekoa place.

  “All’s I know is the lady of the house got shot this morning and the husband called it in.”

  “Was he here when it happened?”

  “Don’t know. He a friend of yours?”

  I heard the sound of crunching gravel. When I turned, Detective Glen Wong of the Maui Police Department was about thirty feet away and closing the gap quickly. Detective Wong and I go way back, some of it good, most times not so good.

  Officer Puno thrust the grocery bag at me and I took it without comment.

  “Ms. Moon, it pains me to acknowledge I was almost expecting to see you here,” said Wong.

  I shot him my most winsome smile and stuck out my hand. “Detective Wong, good to see you again. I was shopping in the neighborhood when I heard the news.” I hoisted the grocery bag to corroborate my fib.

  “Nice try, but we both know this crime scene is also the home of your martial arts instructor. Detective Ho advised us he found you prying into police business earlier in the day.”

  I grinned at Wong as if conceding his clever hypothesis. “True. So you can imagine why I’m concerned about what’s happened.”

  “As we all are, Ms. Moon. Do you have information I need to know?”

  “Not really. But maybe if I knew what you know, I’d be able to fill in some blanks.”

  He shook his head. “Your never-ending meddling never ceases to amaze me. Look at me, Ms. Moon. Do you see a rookie fresh out of the academy?”

  “No, sir. I certainly do not.”

  He glared at the implied dig, then turned to Officer Puno. “I hope I won’t learn you’ve been engaging with this citizen in exchanges that could be construed as unprofessional.”

  Puno’s face clouded. I couldn’t tell if he thought Wong was accusing him of some kind of carnal shenanigans or if he was simply distressed by his use of the word, “unprofessional.”