The day began as a glorious Friday morning in Waikiki. I woke up, started the coffee, ate one of the delicious apple bananas I get from a farmer's market, and stuffed the peel down the disposal. Flipped the switch. Nothing other than a steady hum.
No grinding. No gurgling. No worries. I'm an apartment manager and have dealt with many a jammed disposal. I've solved most of those problems myself and saved my tenants money to boot. But today? Not happening. Not for me. After a half hour of twisting, turning, prodding, and pulling, I gave up and placed a call to Freddie, my so-called plumber.
I've used Freddie for several years now. Freddie's most redeeming quality may be his relationship to my best friend Alexander. They're cousins, in fact, which makes them what we call ‘ohana, or family. Now you know why I call Freddie when I have a plumbing emergency. It's not his skills. It's not his price. And, it's definitely not his reliability.
It's been two hours since I placed the call at seven-thirty this morning. Quite honestly, I've resigned myself to having the garbage-disposal blues for Halloween and probably the weekend. If I knew Freddie, he was off surfing, despite the thunderstorms brewing overhead.
The ringing of my doorbell practically scared me to death but gave me hope. Freddie must have gotten my message. I rushed to the door, singing his praises. “I don't know how you did it, buddy, but you get a huge mahalo.”
I flung open the door and my heart sank. It wasn't Freddie, but one of my tenants. “Chance? What are you doing here?”
The last thing I wanted to hear was that something had broken in his unit. Good grief, the day had barely started.
“No worries, McKenna. I've got a problem, and you're just the man to help me out.”
Please, no. “What broke?”
He blinked at me; his forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“In your apartment. Something broke, yah? My garbage disposal froze up this morning and bad things happen in threes. So what happened?”
“Nothing like that. I have to attend an event today…”
Oh, great, the rich kid had another swanky function to attend. I brushed his issue aside with a wave of my hand. The last thing I wanted was to rub shoulders with Honolulu's hoity-toity when I should be tracking down a Freddie substitute.
“Sorry, but I'm kind of jammed up.” It was a nice pun. At least I thought so. When Chance gave me a blank stare, I added, “Garbage disposal went out this morning. Jammed up. Get it?”
His face lit up in recognition, then fell. “So you're waiting for a plumber? What a drag. I've got an invite to the Honolulu Antiquities Museum grand opening today. It's going to be a really big deal, and it’s happening all day long. My dad's known the director for years and made a huge donation. Name on a wing and all that stuff.”
“Why can't your girlfriend go with you?”
“Lexie has to work,” he grumbled. “I tried getting her to take time off, and she reminded me that not everyone has a trust fund to live on so they can follow their dreams.”
Ouch. The honeymoon was over before they even got married? It broke my heart to think of him without Lexie. “You two get along so well—this has to be a little bump in the road.”
He nodded glumly.
I glanced over my shoulder. Allen wrench on the dining room table. Everything from under the sink piled on the countertop. What was I thinking? How could I pass on this kind of opportunity? “I love Hawaiian art and antiquities.”
“You're the man when it comes to all that history stuff.” He leaned forward, one hand resting against the doorjamb. “They've got the Hale‘iwa Tiki on loan for the opening. It will only be there for a couple of days. If we go now, we can probably beat the crowd and take our time looking at everything.”
Holy cow. I'd heard about the Hale‘iwa Tiki. Archaeologists believed the carved statue had been brought here from the Marquesas Islands on one of the first expeditions. It was rumored to be well over a thousand years old. I shot another glance at the mess in the kitchen.
I dealt with landlord issues all the time. Why was I so worked up over one little problem? It really wasn't a big deal. “You're sure about the tiki? I thought it was in a private collector's hands.”
Chance made a crossing motion over his heart and stood a little taller. “That's the section my dad funded. And, yes, it was. But my dad knows the collector.”
“The rich do travel in tight circles, don't they?” I snickered. “What happened to you?”
“You know it's not my thing. I only attend these events to keep my dad happy.” Chance pursed his lips. “What do you say? Are you game?”
The Hale‘iwa Tiki. So few people would ever see it up close. How could I refuse? “Tell you what, give me an hour to clean up my mess and get ready. I'll go with you on one condition.”
“What's that?”
“You patch things up with Lexie. She's great for you.”
He came to attention and gave me a crisp salute. “Aye, aye, sir. Dress is island casual. Costumes optional for everyone but the staff.”
“Costumes? I thought this was a museum…”
Chance bit his lower lip. “I guess I didn't get to that part. Because this is Halloween, all the staff will be dressed in costumes.” His smile grew; his voice picked up in tempo. “All the parents were invited to bring their kids, and there will be trick-or-treating inside the museum. It's going to be a huge Halloween party. It's awesome that you're going with me!”
I stared at him. No way. Chance was eager to have kids. He loved them. To me, they were a necessary evil. Even though I'm sixty-five, I wasn't exactly good grandpa material. And yet, he was so…so…happy. I couldn't burst his bubble. I put on my best happy voice. “Great. Island casual it is.”
Chance winked, flashed me a brilliant smile, and left.
I closed the door and groaned. Halloween party? All day long? Trick-or-treaters? Today would have way less to do with Hawaiian history than ragamuffins running rampant. I glanced toward the kitchen. A box of dishwasher soap, a half-used package of sponges, and even my little trash can were scattered about. The counter was strewn with miscellany. The place was a disaster.
Time to suck it up and be a big boy. Neither a dead garbage disposal nor a little rain storm was going to ruin my day. I went to the kitchen and stared at the mess on the countertop. Why not just leave it? Freddie was off surfing, and Chance was happy to have me accompany him.
It was Halloween and I was going to see a piece of history most people didn't even know about.
I chuckled. “Halloween, huh? As long as no dead guys visit us in the museum, this will be great.”
Chapter 2: Sandra
We arrived at the Honolulu Antiquities Museum about eleven thirty. We'd had to park a couple of blocks away, but there was plenty of shade on the walk and the steady trade winds made being outside a delight. Dark gray clouds loomed over the horizon, the direction we call mauka, but the weather guy was forecasting nothing more than a few isolated cells.
The museum came into view, a Victorian splash of color in an otherwise sedate neighborhood. Brilliant teal, bright white, and rustic red accented the pale blue siding. As far as I was concerned, the colors alone were enough to awaken all but the dead. Two swinging benches, both painted white and decorated with blue-and-white striped cushions, beckoned from the front lānai.
Three small children dressed in costumes sat glumly on one of the benches. I pointed at the kids. “They don't look like they're having a good time. You think that's the time-out bench?”
“Could be…we've got a football player and a princess. What do you think the third one is?”
“He's either a ghost or an albino.”
Chance peered at the kid for a few seconds and then shook his head. “I'm going to choose the ghost option.”
He headed up the walkway to the lānai steps, glanced at the three kids, and gave them a thumbs up. “Good job, guys. Nice costumes.”
A weak round of trick-or-treats echoed from all three of the kids. Chan
ce apologized for having no snacks. He added, “No worries, guys, they've got plenty inside. Right?”
“Mommy got really angry. Miss Macready made us take a time-out.” It was the princess. She stuck out her lower lip, and she glared at the boy on her right. “It was Tommy's fault. He was throwing his ball.”
“Inside?” I squeaked.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “I didn't do it; it was Casper.”
“Did not!” the smallest one squealed.
“Did too.” Tommy jumped up and took a step toward the other boy.
Chance grabbed Tommy by the arm, and they engaged in a stare-down contest.
The princess rolled her eyes and exaggerated a heavy sigh. “Mommy’s not gonna like that, mister.”
My friend kept his grip on Tommy's arm. “I thought you were supposed to be on a time-out. I had plenty of those when I was a kid. I know what it means.” He tilted his head at the bench.
Tommy glared at Chance but returned to his seat when thunder cracked in the distance.
I snickered. “Lightening, thunder. Good job, Chance. Very Charlton Heston.” I pulled back when a woman wearing a pale, flowered muumuu burst out the front door.
She barked, “What are you doing to my kid?”
“He broke his time-out,” Chance said.
“Don't you be reprimanding my kids! That's my job.” She jabbed Chance in the chest. “Not yours. Got it?”
Right, so we'd met the Angry Witch. All she needed was a pointy black hat and a broom. I would have loved to have asked her why she hadn't been doing her job, but I gritted my teeth and held back. This was Halloween. She was probably stressed out. After this encounter, the garbage disposal blues were sounding better and better. We hadn't even gotten in the door and already we had trouble.
Chance stammered an apology. We stepped inside as Mom went on a rant with her brood.
A woman I'd guess to be in her mid-forties greeted us in the museum. She had flaming red hair, green eyes, and wore a tan dress decorated with a pattern of green palm fronds. Casual, yet elegant. She also wore gold earrings, from which bright orange pumpkins hung. She had her arms crossed and was peering past us to the front lānai.
She draped a plumeria lei around Chance's neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Aloha, Chance. Thank you for coming. I can't tell you how much we appreciate your family's support.” She turned to me. “And this is?”
“Wilson McKenna.”
I held out my hand, but she ignored it. Instead, she draped a lei around my neck and kissed me on the cheek.
“Aloha, Mr. McKenna. I'm Sandra Macready, Director of the Honolulu Antiquities Museum.”
My eyes must have widened, because she quickly added, “You're surprised a woman would have this position?”
“Well, first off, you don't need to mister me. McKenna is fine. I'm not at all surprised a woman would have your position. However, I must admit I was expecting an old curmudgeon—either male or female—not an attractive young woman like you.”
She winked at me and smiled. “My, my, aren't you the suave one?”
“My girlfriend runs her own business on the Big Island. She's very successful. I say, You go, girl.”
“Well,” she laughed, “a supporter. At least we're making progress. Besides, I have an amazing assistant. Maile is smart and has boundless energy. She's well-connected, too. Thanks to her, I was able to negotiate with our largest donors. We make quite the team.” She winked. “Please look around. Enjoy the exhibits. The Hale‘iwa Tiki is to your right.”
I glanced in the direction she pointed. A large display had been cordoned off with decorative posts and rope. It had a crowd two-to-three deep all the way around. “We'll be sure to check it out later. Very exciting. What's the deal with the empty space over there?” I gestured at an empty spot about ten feet from the crowd.
Sandra grimaced. “Maile and I had to make some last-minute adjustments. It's a long story. Anyway, we have some priceless antiquities and, thanks to our generous donors, are already establishing ourselves as a premier Hawaiian art center.”
The little football player charged through the door and would have slammed into Sandra if she hadn't stepped backwards. Casper followed Tommy, and the princess came last, but at a distance. She paused before Sandra and glanced up.
“Sorry, Miss Macready. Tommy ate too much sugar.”
The little girl didn't wait for a response. She walked into the museum and disappeared into the crowd.
“They just get to run free?” I asked.
Sandra glanced at the door and lowered her voice. “Sadie is such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, her brothers have already learned that money can compensate for their bad behavior.”
The woman who had chewed Chance out on the front lānai pushed between us without a word.
“You know her?” I asked.
Sandra cleared her throat. “Sorry about that. She's been on edge all day today. She's Brittany Hitchens, the daughter of our largest donor. Bless her, she tries. Sadie's well-grounded, but the two boys are a holy terror.” She forced a smile. “Well, look around. If you need anything, please let me know.” She turned and rushed away.
“I wouldn't want to be in her shoes today,” I said.
Chance nodded. “It's tough when you come from a privileged family.”
Rich kids had it hard? What about the poor ones? Or maybe the challenges were simply different. Chance certainly knew what it was like to grow up rich, but I'd always been working class. Somehow we still made our friendship work.
I gazed around the museum. There was a separate children's room with “Keiki Area Courtesy of Pau Family Trust” in large letters above the door. Unfortunately, the two monster boys hadn't chosen to visit the keiki or children’s area. No, they'd rather terrorize the adults. Sadie, on the other hand, appeared content at one of the interactive keiki exhibits.
Chance pointed at a display case on the nearest wall. “Let's check out the weapons.” A smile spread across his face.
After three exhibits of axes, spears, and more weapons of war, I excused myself to visit the restroom.
“We just got here.” Chance eyed me. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little off today, I guess. It feels a little claustrophobic in here.”
“Too many people? I had no idea crowds bothered you.”
I shrugged. “They usually don't. I'll be back in a minute.”
“I'm going to check out the kid's area.” Chance looked over his shoulder. His smile grew. “I know you won't want to make that journey.”
“Enter at your own risk, buddy. See you when you've had your fill of little monsters.” I laughed as I walked away. Quite literally, the museum was filled with little monsters, everything from vampires to Darth Vader. I had to admit, it was quite the party.
The restroom sign was posted on a wall and had an arrow pointing down a short hallway. My sense of unease grew with every step. By the time I reached the hallway, I couldn't clear the fog cloaking my thoughts. I desperately wanted to splash water on my face to shake this feeling.
There were two signs on the walls, one for Kane, the other for Wahine. Just in case someone had trouble with the names, there was a little boy stick figure right below Kane. The Wahine door had a little skirted stick figure. Someone had put a small display case midway between the two restroom doors on the opposite side of the hallway. Was this part of the last-minute change Sandra had referred to? How could she hide this beautiful piece of furniture back here?
I couldn't resist whatever pulled me toward the case. The highly polished koa wood almost glowed with a rosy sheen. The glass top sparkled even in the fluorescent lighting.
Inside the case, there was a wooden tiki key ring with a note attached. The key ring reminded me of the ones I'd seen at our local ABC Stores. It could be described in one word—cheap.
The note read. “We apologize for the inconvenience. The Wahine Pōhaku is not available for viewing at this time.”
I reread the not
e. Wahine Pōhaku? Loosely translated, it meant woman in a rock. I turned away but stopped when I heard a voice.
“Don't go, McKenna. You gotta help me.”
I spun around. Desperately searched up and down the hallway. I knew that voice. How did it get here? It belonged to a man who had been dead for more than a dozen years. I shivered at a sudden chill and the fog in my head. I braced myself against the opposite wall. The moment I'd stepped through the front door, a feeling of closeness had surrounded me. It was as though someone had been standing next to me…almost…touching me.
I needed to get out of here. This was too…weird. Before I could move, the voice returned.
“McKenna. I'm trapped. Get me out of here!”
Chapter 3: Kimu
I stared at the display case for about two seconds, then darted through the restroom door. For several minutes, I watched my image in the mirror and waited for my breath to settle down. I glanced under the single stall. Empty.
The feeling of closeness was still present. A freaked-out image of myself peered at me from the mirror. “You're going crazy.”
I locked the door and paced. Two steps one way, about-face, two back. This was…insane. “Kimu's been dead for over a decade. He's driven you over the edge.”
Don't ask me why, but for some reason Kimu had selected me as his afterlife hobby. As a result, he showed up in my dreams, gave me bizarre visions, and in some convoluted way, helped me solve murder cases. There were plenty of times I wished he'd just take up checkers or bridge or go surfing, which I'm told was always his favorite pastime.
I opened the stall again. No voices. No people. I checked the mirror again and looked myself in the eye. Time to man up. “It's just your imagination. He's not…real.” But the wacky dreams and visions always felt real. Oh boy, did they.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to unlock the door. My hand stopped a few inches from the handle. In the mirror, a face weathered by time with thinning salt-and-pepper hair looked back at me. “What if he's…back?” I asked my mirror-self.
I stared down at the sink to avoid my own gaze. “What's that mean?” Great, now I was asking bathroom fixtures for answers about reincarnation.
Happy Homicides 4: Fall Into Crime: Includes Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crimes Page 50