“Oh, that. It’s doing fine. The grass made for a soft landing.” I chuckled. “Wait, you saw that?” Well, well, did I have myself a busybody? The kind who saw all?
“I just happened to look out when it happened.” She smiled sheepishly.
That was a load of BS. I had a Grade A Snooper on my hands. She probably peered out her front window all day long. How would I get her to admit it, though? I rubbed my shoulder. “Maybe that lawn wasn’t quite as soft as I thought.”
She laughed and took a step toward us. “How long are you here for?”
“Tomorrow’s our last day,” Benni said. “I live on the Big Island. In Kona. This kind of space is amazing.” She pointed at a couple of the lots.
“My late husband and I bought this place about the same time as Hattie and her husband moved back. We both lost our husbands the same year. We’re just two old biddies keeping each other company until one of us dies.”
How perfect. This blue-haired old biddy knew Hattie, liked to watch out her front window, and was a talker. She was the quintessential informant I always searched for when working. Skip-tracing gold. Yup, we had ourselves a fountain of information, and all we had to do was turn the faucet.
“I’m McKenna.” I tilted my head sideways. “This is my girlfriend, Benni.”
There it was, the raised eyebrow. Oh my, I’ll bet she’d thought Benni was my daughter. Gotcha, you old bag.
“I’m Prudence. It’s so nice when love comes to us late in life, don’t you think?” She smiled at us.
Okay, that threw me off. I’d expected a disparaging remark. A car cruised by, headlights on, tires crunching the gravel along the roadside. Just a little too close for this narrow road. Prudence motioned for us to step into her yard.
“Get over here, you two. These tourists are always in such a hurry. Especially their first couple of days. How’d you meet?”
Benni took hold of my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “McKenna is my brother’s best friend.”
Prudence smiled at me. “You are a cheeky one, aren’t you? A lot like my husband was.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. I hated being the center of attention. Besides, we needed information about Hattie, not my life history. “It just kind of happened. Wasn’t deliberate. Uh…”
“Don’t be so modest. He was helping me find my daughter after she ran away.” Benni shook my arm, then let go, and moved closer to Prudence. “He’s quite the catch.”
Prudence winked at me. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, eh, McKenna?”
I swallowed hard. Uh, now what? Holy Grail. Best Witness Ever. Old Busybody was more like it. I had to turn this around.
“What was your husband like?” I asked.
Benni winked at me.
“Oh, he was one of a kind. Perfect in almost every way except that he snored like a freight train.” Prudence stared at a nearby hibiscus with red blossoms. A smile crossed her face. “Now that he’s gone, I have to use a noise machine at night to sleep soundly.”
“I’ll bet you and Hattie share those stories all the time,” Benni said.
“We have tea most days. Except when one of us has an appointment like today. She was interviewing a new renter.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll get all the good dirt on him tomorrow.”
Hattie had interviewed a new tenant? Today? Why had she said this morning that James would be gone for only a couple of weeks?
Benni’s brow furrowed as she gazed across the street. “I thought she had a tenant.”
I bit my tongue, determined to let my new assistant have her run.
“Well, far be it from me to gossip, but she’s been advertising for a week or so. James skipped out on her when he found out.” She gazed across the street and licked her lips. “Didn’t pay his rent from what I heard.”
Hattie lied to us? The nice old lady with the spiked tea played me? I’d like to strangle the old bag—the lying old bag. I hated it when people got the better of me. I gritted my teeth as Benni continued her line of questioning.
“I’ll bet that happens a lot. I mean, she’s an older landlord and she rents to young people. They probably think they can take advantage of her.”
Prudence thought for a moment. “Not as often as you might think. There was that guy about six months ago. Another back—two years—I think. She’s been lucky. It always seems to be the boys who do it. Never the girls. She’s had much better luck with renting to girls. They seem to be responsible. The boys, though, they just skip out. I’m surprised she’ll rent to boys at all.”
“What do you mean, skip out?” I asked.
“You know, here one day, and then they leave during the night. Abandon their stuff and everything. It’s really bizarre.”
No kidding. Bizarre wasn’t the word. Impossible was more like it. “Doesn’t Hattie ever try to collect?”
“She just sells their things and chalks it up to bad luck. She claims to need the money. Says that’s why she rents out a room, but she doesn’t. I think she’s just trying to make me feel better. Her husband left her a bundle.” Prudence laughed. “I guess she was luckier than me in that respect. That might have been my husband’s other failing—he was miserable with money.”
“How long ago did her husband pass?” Benni asked.
“Five years. Went for a hike at Lipoa Point and fell in.” She sighed. “It happens. People get out there, get a little careless, next thing you know they’re flailing about in the ocean.”
“Lipoa Point? I hear it can be dangerous out there,” I said.
Benni looked perplexed. “Prudence, did Hattie already sell James’s stuff?”
“I doubt it. I just helped her box it up two days ago.”
A lone man walked by and waved at Prudence. She acknowledged him with a curt nod. “Nice night for a walk,” she said.
He nodded, turned, and whistled. A moment later, a black lab came running. The man yelled at the dog when it started to cross into Prudence’s yard. The man and dog continued on. She glared after them.
“See what I mean? If I hadn’t been out here, he would have let the dog do its business. He never cleans up. A nuisance, that’s what he is.”
I tsk-tsk’d and shook my head. “Who’s this Bryce, anyway? Sounds like he gets around.”
“Bryce Yocum. He does odd jobs for the ladies around town.”
“He doesn’t work for men?”
She shook her head. “I think Bryce might have been abused as a child. He doesn’t do well with men, but he’s fine around women. He’s been down on his luck, but since he’s been working so much for Hattie he doesn’t have to sleep in his truck anymore. He’s at least got an apartment now. I’m having him do some cleanup tomorrow morning. When he finishes, he’ll take all the trash to the dump. He does the same thing for Hattie.” She laughed. “I do suspect he doesn’t take all of her stuff to the dump—you know, especially when it’s from one of her tenants.”
“So he hauls away her tenant’s stuff when they skip? And then sells it?”
“I'm not really sure. I do know yesterday she gave Bryce some things James left behind. Hattie doesn’t seem to care much what he does, but I have to keep Bryce on task. He isn’t a hundred percent, you know.”
I heard Prudence, but I didn’t. Words went in, but I couldn’t get beyond the fact that Hattie had boxed up James’s things and yet told us he was returning. I was really good at spotting a lie. Somehow, Miriam Hatton-Glendhill had pulled it off and fooled me completely. It was time to reexamine everything she’d told us.
“Prudence, I might be interested in helping Hattie collect those debts from her tenants. I’m an old skip tracer, and if I had the names of these guys, I could track them down.”
She blushed a deep red. “I tried to start a Neighborhood Watch group once, but it kind of fell apart. I took it upon myself to sort of—keep track of things. I mean, one can never tell when records of this nature will be helpful. Don’t tell Hattie I gave this to you, but I happen to have a list
of her tenants. I’ll bet Hattie will be so grateful.”
“I’m sure she will.” The lie rolled off my tongue as though I’d rehearsed it all my life.
Bryce
I spent a fitful night wrestling with decisions. Who was lying? Carmen or Filomena? Hattie or Prudence? When I awoke, the rosy glow of the rising sun filled the clerestory windows above the bedroom. This time, even before the shadows formed, I was up.
Somehow, I was going to find out the truth. My first step was to search for information on the tenants Prudence had named—Neal Latham and Mark Mānoa. I struck out on social media. Nothing. Turned to the dreaded search engines. Fully prepared for thousands of meaningless results, I typed in the name. Got a short list of results. A very short list. Neal Latham was dead.
Neal’s obituary had been filed on January 2, 2013. He had been involved in a hiking accident at Lipoa Point. The same place as Horace Glendhill and James Pennant? That was quite the coincidence. The next tenant was Mark Mānoa. He had a Facebook profile, but the information was almost two years out of date. I found nothing on LinkedIn. Ditto for Twitter. When I searched for his name, I stopped and stared at the result, unable to believe my eyes. Mark Mānoa was also dead. His body found at Lipoa Point. He’d been dead about six months.
A gentle rain began to fall. Drops pattered on leaves and overhead, they tap-tap-tapped on the translucent plastic roofing. Peaceful. Serene. Perfect for reasoning out—what? Three of Hattie’s tenants died at Lipoa Point. In the skip tracer’s world, coincidence did not exist. Everything happened for a reason, and all too often those reasons were connected. Was there a link between the deaths? If there had been, wouldn’t the cops have investigated? Maybe not—both Neal’s and Mark’s deaths had been ruled accidental. But that made three accidental deaths at Lipoa Point. All with one common thread, Hattie.
Or was it Bryce?
I went back to the obituary for Neal Latham. Read it again. No information about survivors. He had no family? Body had been cremated. When I followed up on Mark, it was identical. No services for either man. These guys had no one. Nobody to care. Nobody to ask questions. Coincidence? No way.
The question was, how did the men in Hattie’s life find their way to the afterlife so quickly? The one person I wanted to talk to next was Bryce Yocum. If what Prudence had said was correct, Bryce could be at the center of this. It was just after seven when Benni came out. She looked fresh and ready for the day—very unlike how I felt.
“Hey.” She kissed me on the cheek.
I drank in her scent. Jasmine and ginger. Distracting? Oh, yeah. Get back on track, McKenna. “I know it’s Mother’s Day, and we’re going to spend the day celebrating, but I need to talk to Prudence again. I think this Bryce guy had something to do with James Pennant’s disappearance.”
Her eyes lit up. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“You want to go with me?” Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. This had to be—
“Of course. Carmen’s my cousin. I want to help.”
Or was it something else? Her cheeks were flushed. The smile was genuine. What was going on with her? Why wasn’t she upset? Best not to rock the boat. As we walked the long driveway to the street, I explained my suspicions about the missing men. I concluded with, “We have to find out how Bryce Yocum is involved.”
The morning air was cool. The trades, soft and light, caressed my skin. Long shadows enveloped ours. Benni’s hand in mine. It was all perfect, maybe too perfect?
Not a single car passed us, but we saw two people walking their dogs. One was on an extending leash; the other was the guy with the black lab, who let it roam freely. “I can see why Prudence wants a fence.”
Benni nodded absently, but she was staring at Prudence’s yard. “That must be Bryce.”
He wore old shorts and a ragged T-shirt. He was stocky, muscular, and had his hair tied back under a wide-brimmed floppy hat common with landscapers. He glanced in our direction but quickly turned away. When we crossed into Prudence’s front yard, he must have sensed our presence. He straightened up, turned, and stared straight at us. He didn’t speak.
“Aloha. We talked to Prudence yesterday, and she gave us your name.” I did the introductions.
He still didn’t speak.
“You do some work for Hattie, yah?” I said.
“Got nothing to say, brah.”
I’d take the color draining from his face and the hunted look in his eyes as a yes. “Look, Bryce, we’re trying to figure out why all these tenants of Hattie’s keep disappearing.”
He stiffened but stared at Benni.
First Nicholas and now Bryce? Give me a break.
When Benni stepped closer, he said, “You’re pretty. Like my mom was.”
Benni put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder and repeated my question.
“She ain’t never hurt a girl.”
What kind of answer was that? Hurt a girl? My stomach churned. Oh, no. Did that mean what I thought? And Bryce knew? Which meant Hattie was the killer? And he was her accomplice? I heard a question—a woman’s voice—it was Benni.
“Who did she hurt?”
How dangerous was Bryce? I had to get Benni away from him.
Bryce rubbed his neck and kept his gaze fixed on Benni. “It…it was her idea. She made me do it.”
“You helped her more than once, didn’t you, Bryce?” Benni’s voice was soothing. Like a mother’s.
“Are you sure you want to be her accomplice?” I asked.
Bryce’s face flushed deep red. He took a step toward me and bellowed, “I ain’t talking to you!”
Benni pressed a hand against Bryce’s shoulder. She held her ground. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”
He immediately turned and watched Benni’s face. The muscles in his jaw relaxed. His voice mellowed, and he was suddenly docile again. “I didn’t hurt no one. I’d never let her hurt a girl. Especially one as pretty as you.”
I wanted to throw up. I’d put Benni in danger without even knowing it.
“What happened?” Benni coaxed. “Did she force you to help?”
He nodded. “She’s a tricky one. She knew what I did. I couldn’t say no.”
And there it was, the Very Good Reason for committing a crime. None of “my people” had ever been willing to confess, but they’d always had a Very Good Reason for not paying their bills. It had been the same with killers. In that arena, however, there were plenty who were willing to rat out someone else to save their own skin. It was time to leverage Bryce. “I understand you’ve got a guilty conscience. You know, confession is good and all that.”
Bryce glared at me, his rage boiling just beneath the surface. Prudence appeared on her lānai. She shook her head at me, and I recalled her comment from yesterday. Bryce didn’t get along with men. She came and stood next to him, took his elbow with one hand.
“Bryce, you don’t look well. Do you need some water?”
He turned away from us to face her. “No, Miss Prudence, I’m okay as long as he don’t say nothing.” He shot an angry glance over his shoulder at me and then met her gaze again.
“Maybe it’s best if you talk about it.” she said.
“It wasn’t my idea, Miss Prudence. You know how she is. I think she might have something wrong with her. I was just trying to protect her. She said she wasn’t gonna do it no more.”
Good Lord. Somebody had to ask the question, but it couldn’t be me.
Benni’s lips parted, and she sighed. “Wasn’t going to do what, Bryce?”
He dropped his gaze to the ground. His body shook. A tear trickled down his cheek. His head shook—it was more like a shiver—but the meaning was clear. Bryce just couldn’t say the words.
Benni
Across the street, Hattie stood in her open doorway staring at us. Beyond the vast expanse of perfectly manicured lawn, the little wisp appeared even more frail. Unless she was blind, she had to know this conversation spelled trouble for her. Prudence glanced up. She must have se
en Hattie watching us because she pulled back from Bryce, horror etched on her forehead. Yeah, she got it. Something wasn’t right with Bryce or the lady who shared afternoon tea with the neighbors.
“What did she have on you, Bryce?” Benni’s voice soothed him, like coaxing a child to confess.
He clutched his arms to his sides. Swayed from side to side. Next to the plumeria tree, he looked like a little boy. His voice cracked. “I made my mom die.”
Prudence gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes flicked toward Hattie’s home. She grimaced. Her reaction could only mean one thing, Hattie was headed this way.
“How? You can tell me.” Benni’s tone was still soft and coaxing.
Bryce couldn’t take his eyes from Benni’s face. He probably had no idea Hattie was on her way. “By getting in a fight,” he said.
“What happened?”
Again, the head shake.
“Please?”
“She died coming to see me.”
“When? Was she in an accident?”
His lower lip trembled. He glanced at Prudence, but her eyes were glued on Hattie, who now stood a few feet away, just at the edge of the property. Bryce shook his head violently. He shrank into himself.
“Bryce was ten when it happened.”
Hattie. All heads snapped in her direction. She shrugged. “Bryce’s mother heard that he was in the hospital. She was rushing to see him when she tried to pass a cane truck. An oncoming car hit her head-on. She died instantly, along with the passenger in the other car.”
Prudence stared at Hattie. “And you knew this?”
“All of Lahaina knows—knew. Anybody who was here, anyway.”
Something about her statement didn’t make sense. “You haven’t lived here that long.”
“My husband told me about it. He was here then.”
Even so, there had to be more to the story. This was only the visible part—the tip of the iceberg. “What don’t they know?”
Hattie smirked at me. “I knew you were trouble from the moment you landed on my lawn.”
“It will all come out, Hattie.”
“This part, anyway. Bryce was a daredevil in those days. A couple of the older boys skipped school and were going surfing at Lipoa Point. Bryce talked them into taking him along. He must have been trying to impress the older boys and took on a wave that was too big. He nearly drowned. He’s blamed himself ever since.”
Happy Homicides 4: Fall Into Crime: Includes Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crimes Page 90