—What battle?
—You gotta restore da wahine to her home.
—How do I do that?
—No can help, brah.
—Why not? You're always giving me clues.
—Against da code. Can't interfere in your own future. Rule 3A.
—Rule…you guys have a rule book? No, don't answer that. What can you tell me?
—Put you hands on da case.
—I'm not going into the ocean again, am I?
—No, brah, I got permission ta give you one image. But you gotta work fo' it.
I tried, but I couldn't lift my arms. It was like someone had attached hundred-pound weights to my hands. I couldn't budge. And every time I struggled, the weight increased. I sensed Chance moving closer. Chance…I'd seen him do this. Relax. Let the chi flow. Let the tension…the anger…the weight…go.
My pulse slowed. My breaths became deeper. Longer. The tension dissolved. I felt the case’s cool surface beneath my palms. Peace. I was at peace.
There's a rain forest around me. The air is cool. Moist. A gentle mist falls. Small droplets accumulate on green leaves until a few converge, then dribble off. The process begins anew. Before me, there's a small sign with a painted-on stick diagram. It's strangely familiar.
I've never been here, but I feel a sense of calm.
Standing next to me is a woman with dark hair. Bronze skin. Friendly smile.
In my hand, a glowing rock. It pulses with the spirit inside. Kimu is standing to one side wearing his customary green board shorts and holding a surfboard under his arm.
I hand the woman the rock.
She bows slightly.
Kimu turns and walks into the forest carrying his board.
A shroud of black envelops me.
Chapter 8: Ghostbusters
My nose tickled. I rubbed at the spot, but the sensation returned.
There were voices, too. A woman's…a man's…
“Thank goodness, he's coming to.” It was Sandra.
My back was killing me. Why was I looking at the underside of the display case where Kimu was trapped? Why was I laying on the floor? I studied the bottom of the case. It was nothing special, just cheap plywood. I blinked. Sandra leaned over me, her frizzy hair mostly pulled back, but a couple of strands hung in my face.
Ah, the tickling. “What happened?” I blinked again. Stared at the plywood. No. At the symbol drawn with a black, permanent marker on the plywood. An insignia. Familiar, yet not. I angled my head at the bottom of the case. “What's that mean?”
Chance knelt over me. “Hey, you had me worried, buddy. You passed out. You would have cracked your skull open if I hadn't caught you. I'm glad you're okay.”
My gaze flicked to his face. Tight jaw. Pinched forehead. Concern. Worry. Why not? I'd feel the same if it were he down here. I nodded. Smiled. “I'm okay. Give me your phone.”
He broke into a grin. “You want to make a call? Now? McKenna, I think you need to rest.”
“Just unlock the phone and give it to me.” My voice felt strangely detached from the rest of me. It was like…I was here, but not. I was free. No confines. No…claustrophobia. Okay, this was way too woowoo for me.
Chance handed me his phone and the sudden feel of something tangible anchored me. I turned on the camera, aimed at the image, took the shot, and checked the photo. It was clear. The image, easily discernible. “There. What's that?” I turned the phone around so he and Sandra could see the display.
While they were busy gawking at the screen and peering up under the case, I brought myself to a seated position. A pair of kids dressed in tan coveralls with backpacks and plastic ray guns ran around the corner and stopped in front of me. Neither wore a mask.
The heavier one cocked his head and pointed his gun at me. “Are you drunk, mister?”
I snickered. “If only, kid. Hey, who are you anyway?”
“We're the Ghostbusters.”
He and his companion, a skinny kid with jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail, began dancing around. “Who ya' wanna call? Da-da-da-da…”
A woman pushing a third Ghostbuster came around the corner. “Enough, you two.” She glanced at me. “I'll be so glad when this day is over.”
Chance rose from his inspection of the display case, glanced first at me, and then smiled at the woman. “He just took a little tumble, that's all. Let's get you up, McKenna.”
The woman nodded knowingly. “My mother gets dizzy sometimes. I know how it is when they get older.”
It was all I could do to suppress a snarky comeback. The reality was, this woman had no clue. The room spun momentarily and then it stopped. It was like my out-of-body experience had never happened. “I'm fine. All systems go, kid.” I turned to the woman, who actually looked concerned for me. “Thanks for your understanding.”
“Sandra, can we go up to your office?” Chance asked.
She agreed and we followed her upstairs with Chance at my side holding onto my arm. We sat around a small conference table in the corner. Passed the phone to each other. Sandra couldn't take her eyes from the image on the screen.
“You've seen that stick figure before, haven't you?” I watched her face. Her eyes had a hunted look…like she was in fear. “So have I, but I can't recall where.”
Sandra's head moved up-and-down almost imperceptibly. She licked her lips and her voice cracked. “Bo gave me a mug the day after I agreed to go to the lūʻau. It had the same design on it. He said it was the emblem for his ‘ohana, his extended family.”
The flash of a memory returned. A kitchen sink. A cereal bowl. A mug. Of course. I'd seen the mug in Bo's kitchen earlier that afternoon.
Chance's eyes widened and he asked, “It's the same figure? How can you be sure?”
“Look at the right foot. It's the letter B. It struck me as really odd when I saw it. It reminded me of one of those trinkets the tourists like, but this one is unique.”
“What did you do with the mug?” I asked.
“I threw it away.”
Her jaw was tight. She had a fire simmering inside. How long would it linger? She planted her elbows on the table. It was the same thing she'd done earlier, but this time she buried her face in her hands and pressed her palms against her eyes. When she looked at me, her eyes flashed with anger. “There are some things you should know about Bo. He had a real passion for Hawaiian artifacts. He said it was why he wanted to be in security. He loved working here…or so he said. The night I went with him to the fundraiser, I realized how familiar he was with everything Hawaiian. It really was more than a passion, it was like he was consumed by it. He made comments about the pōhaku needing to be returned to its rightful owners. With everything else that's happened, I'm convinced he's the one who stole it.”
It became pretty obvious Chance and I were both ticked off at Sandra for again withholding information. What else wasn't she telling us? Of course, we still hadn't revealed Bo's death. We were both playing the same game apparently. I did my best to keep my voice level. “So, you're telling us Bo is some kind of fanatic?”
“Maybe you should talk to Brittany Hitchens.”
Oh no, not the woman with kids. Please, not her again. I closed my eyes. Took a breath. “What has she got to do with this?”
“She and Bo might have had a…relationship.”
“What?” Chance exploded. “Are you serious? And you didn't think we should know this?”
“What kind of relationship?” I asked.
“One built on animosity. She thinks Bo might have drugged me. The night I spent there. She thinks he…” Her voice trailed off, and she buried her face in her hands again. Through choked sobs, she continued. “She said if Bo wants a woman…he, well, drugs her.”
“Rohypnol.” I ground out the word between clenched teeth. “It's what I was getting at before. You know what it is, Chance?”
“Of course, it's a form of benzodiazepine. It's a hypnotic and sedative, so it's used a lot in date rape. But Mc
Kenna, what does Sandra's night with Bo have to do with the theft of the pōhaku?” Chance paused. After a tick, he blurted, “Unless… Sandra, did you kill Bo for vengeance?”
Whatever color Sandra had in her cheeks drained. She turned a blotchy, pasty-white. “No,” she croaked. “No. He's dead?”
Chance put a hand on her shoulder and held her gaze. “You certainly had a motive, revenge for what he'd done. Tell me I'm wrong.”
“I can't believe he's…are you sure?” Sandra's fingers trembled. Lines of fear appeared on her otherwise perfect face.
“Positive,” Chance said.
Chapter 9: The Kahuna
Between Kimu's vision and the kids in Ghostbuster costumes, I had a good idea of what we needed. An expert. A very specific kind, too. Some called them priest. Others, sorcerer. No matter what term you used, what we needed now was a keeper of Hawaiian history. “We need a kahuna,” I said. “Preferably one who is familiar with the stolen pōhaku.”
Sandra reached into her top desk drawer and pulled out a card. “Call Kahuna Iwalani at O‘ahu Ghost Tours. She helped us get the pōhaku settled in when it first arrived.”
“You make it sound like it's a real person.” Chance chuckled, but stopped when Sandra and I both stared at him.
After what I'd seen today, I didn't care who else agreed with me, I was a believer. “I have a feeling it's not called the Wahine Pōhaku for nothing.”
I dialed the number on the card. A woman answered. She had the oh-so-common island lilt in her voice. The kind capable of making even a single word sound like music.
“Aloha.”
“Aloha. My name is McKenna, and I'm here at the Hawaiian Antiquities Museum. A friend and I are trying to recover the Wahine Pōhaku. It was stolen two nights ago.”
“McKenna, you say? Oh my, how's Kimu?”
Okay, this was getting too weird. “You…know…Kimu?”
Her laugh was deep and hearty. “So many things are connected here, yah? Besides, you have a reputation. Is Kimu in trouble?”
“Uh, yes, that's another reason I need you.”
“How can I help?”
“He's stuck in a museum display case.” Every pore in my skin felt hot when I caught the stares from Chance and Sandra. I turned away, wishing I was in a separate room altogether. “I, um, have to free him or he'll be stuck there forever.”
There was a long pause before Kahuna Iwalani answered. “We should speak in person. I will meet you at the museum in twenty minutes.”
When I disconnected the call, Chance stared at me. Thank goodness he didn't ask about the Kimu part of the conversation.
“Well? What did she say?”
“She's on her way here. We have about twenty minutes.”
In fact, it was less than fifteen before Kahuna Iwalani arrived wearing a black off-the-shoulder muumuu. There really was no mistaking her. She had a friendly smile and long, free-flowing black hair. A tribal tattoo on her bare shoulder spoke of days long gone, days when legends were passed along through language and dance.
She approached me with graceful, deliberate strides, which had me wondering if she practiced hula also. Why wouldn't she? She was a keeper of the traditions. “You must be McKenna. Yah?” Again, the lilt in her voice. Every word a melody.
My brain froze up. What did I say to her? How did I greet her? I bowed. Chance followed suit.
She laughed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, please, no formalities. We will be working together. All I ask is you respect the traditions. No pomp and circumstance is needed.”
“Right. My bad. I gather you are aware of the robbery. Is that why you came here?”
Kahuna Iwalani glanced beyond us. “Sandra! How nice to see you.”
The women exchanged a long embrace in which Sandra's fiery red hair mixed with Kahuna Iwalani's dark. They were so different…yet similar. How did I know that?
Sandra and Kahuna Iwalani clasped hands. The director stepped back, still beaming. “Thank you for gracing our museum during our grand opening, Kahuna Iwalani. It is a great honor.”
Kahuna Iwalani bowed slightly in acknowledgement and then shook her head. “It is my pleasure to come.” She looked at me. “To answer your question, I am here to help save a great chief. If what you say is true, Kimu is caught between worlds. I do not pretend to understand how this might happen, yet I accept this as truth. The stolen pōhaku has been the subject of great controversy for many years.”
“Controversy?” I glanced sideways at Sandra. Was this something else she hadn't revealed?
“Ah, you are not familiar with its history. This pōhaku contained a wahine spirit from the olden days. When I was a little girl, I was told about a man who was riding his horse on the beach one day when a voice called out to him. He followed the voice, which led him to a stone.”
I wondered if this was the same guy Kimu mentioned.
She stopped and glanced at Sandra. “According to the story, it was the same pōhaku or stone donated to the museum. The woman spirit inside the rock beckoned to him and told the man good luck would follow his family if he took good care and never neglected her.”
Sandra crossed her arms over her chest. “It's just a story. It's the kind of thing we use for the keiki. There's no scientific evidence.”
Wow. She'd called in a kahuna to help, but she didn't believe the legends? I inspected Sandra's face. “To you it's just a rock?”
“I did not say that.” Sandra's jaw puckered. “I…don't know. So many strange things happen here.”
“It's one reason the islands are so special. I'd like to hear the rest of the story.” I emphasized the last word and Sandra nodded stiffly. I especially wanted to hear what Kimu had left out.
Kahuna Iwalani nodded at me. “We are all allowed to believe at our own level. It is so, even in this story. I was told the man's wife became jealous of the love and care the man showed to the pōhaku. She never heard the spirit and eventually her jealousy consumed her. She tossed the pōhaku off a cliff and into the ocean. Bad fortune fell upon the family afterwards according to the kūpuna. Their elders.”
“So, the ancestors say that's the end of the story? It's in the ocean?” I stared at Kahuna Iwalani. How could that be?
“Some of the kūpuna say a neighbor was aware of the pōhaku's power. His son was present when the wife threw it into the sea. He dove into the shallow water and retrieved it. The families have fought over the pōhaku ever since.”
Chance's jaw fell. He had a bewildered look on his face. “This is all about a custody battle over a rock?”
“The Paus donated the pōhaku with the understanding it would be well-taken care of,” Sandra snapped.
She was downright defensive. In my opinion, her reaction was very incongruous with her claim as a nonbeliever. “So I take it the Pau family saved the pōhaku?”
Kahuna Iwalani nodded. “Of course.”
“Sandra,” I asked, “when we first met you, you praised Maile for her connections and helping you bring in donors. Does she know the Pau family?”
Sandra nodded. “She met Brittany Pau Hitchens when they were both volunteering at a battered women's shelter. Apparently, they're quite close. Maile has many such connections.”
Bingo. Now we were getting somewhere. “Kahuna Iwalani, was the Pau family poor when they saved the pōhaku?”
“Yes. But they saw tremendous fortune afterwards. Over the generations, the gap between the families has grown. The Keale family has seen great adversity—accidents, deaths, financial disasters—while the Pau family rose in wealth and power. Over time, the open wound festered until it became infected and filled with venom.”
I gazed around the room. The party atmosphere was winding down, but there were still twenty to thirty adults and keiki wandering about. ‘Ohana. Hawai‘i was all about family. “Would there be enough venom for someone to commit murder?”
“I would hope not, but I fear so.”
I watched Kahuna Iwalani's face for a moment
. “So the Pau family is still doing well?”
“Extremely.” Kahuna Iwalani paused for a moment. “It is odd, though. Brittany Pau called me two days ago and asked if I would visit her grandfather. He took ill during the night. He is not doing well and I am very concerned for him.”
I had a sudden image of a raging ocean in my head. A single man clinging to a raft. Ten-foot waves washing over him. A moment later, the vision was gone, but Sandra looked like she'd had her own revelation. Her face was blotchy and her breaths came rapidly.
“Brittany Pau?” I asked. “You mean Brittany Hitchens? She called you about her grandfather? Mr. Pau?”
“Yes,” Kahuna Iwalani said. “She's the last surviving daughter in the Pau family. She's quite worried about him.”
And maybe the family fortune. “This is the woman with the three little monsters? The one from this morning?”
“Yes. She was here and then she left, but she'll be coming back soon,” Sandra said. “I just received a text from her. She wants to check on the pōhaku.”
Chapter 10: Maile
A young Snow White with two little dwarfs stood before a display with a pale green background. They were the picture of happiness—Snow White in the middle, a dwarf holding onto each hand. Idyllic. Was tranquility what Brittany was trying to restore?
I glanced at Kahuna Iwalani. “Does Brittany believe in the pōhaku's power?”
Kahuna Iwalani fingered her shell necklace. “I'm sure she does. Why else would she have asked for my help?”
“Her grandfather's only stipulation was that we treat it with respect,” Sandra said, glancing at Kahuna Iwalani. “He even provided the case. He said it must not be removed without a kahuna present. Kahuna Iwalani was present when we unpacked the pōhaku.”
My heart nearly stopped. The case. The insignia. Kimu's warning. “Kahuna Iwalani, why did there need to be a kahuna present?”
Her dark eyes twinkled. A knowing smile spread across her face. She fingered the shells of her necklace. “The wahine spirit in this pōhaku is very appealing. Those who look upon her will be tempted to touch. Those she finds appealing may hear her voice—and her promise of good fortune.” She held my gaze for a moment. “If there were another spirit nearby, he could have been lured here in the same way.”
Happy Homicides 4: Fall Into Crime: Includes Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crimes Page 53