“When did this party happen?”
“A little over a month ago. Mid-April. I could check my calendar.”
“So they did get the money?”
“This last trip to Vegas, that was to complete the transaction.”
“Why Vegas?”
“Kay was asking the very same question. Somehow—I don’t know, maybe I’m really off here—but I think it had something to do with a boxing match.”
“Boxing match?”
“Mm-hmm. I heard her say they were calling it the Fight of the Century. Happened on Cinco de Mayo.”
“Jeez, that was Mayweather versus De La Hoya—Pretty Boy versus Golden Boy….” Even people who don’t follow boxing knew about this epic battle.
“Kay didn’t give a shit about a boxing match. But Matt, he was into it. He had just seen some movie about some Mexican boxer at Tribeca. Chávez? Does that sound right?”
“Must be Julio Chávez.”
“Whatever. Anyway, Kay wasn’t crazy about going back to Vegas. She and Matt had been there a few months earlier. They had driven from Utah, after Sundance. She said they took in a couple of shows, then drove to L.A., met with some people there, then took a plane back to Hawai‘i.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Arrgh. Why do you keep asking me the same damned question?”
“It’s what I do. Just seeing if the answer’s the same.”
Mia just looked at me.
“I just want more specifics. What were you doing the last time you were together?”
“OK … I’ve been obsessing on it since you first asked me, so I do know now that it was April twenty-second. I know ’cause this was a week after the Lanikai Tri, which was on the fifteenth. I remember telling Kay all about the course. Told her I enjoyed the run part best, so she suggested we go do the course together, and we did. She’s a good runner, but she won’t get on a bike. Matthew joined us near the end, coming from the Kailua side. Afterwards, the three of us went for a swim. It was a gorgeous day. Matt swam to the Moks and back. He’s an amazing swimmer. I was telling Kay he should be doing triathlons.”
“You talk about anything else in particular?”
“Yes. Just what I was telling you about. Remember when I told you about when she last called me? She said, ‘It ain’t happening’?”
I nodded.
“She was referring to another party at Kamana’s place. What was curious, now that I’m thinking about all this, is that she brought it up while Matt was in the water, like maybe she didn’t want him to know? When she asked me, I said, ‘No, not really; why don’t you and Matt go?’ She said he was gonna be in Tahiti and she didn’t want to go alone. I told her to let me check my calendar; told her I thought I might have a race that weekend. That wasn’t the reason. Even if there was a race, I wasn’t married to it. I just needed to think about whether I wanted to go back to this place. Then I decided yes, I would go, because I knew she really wanted to go—god knows why. I called her that evening and said ‘Yeah, let’s do it.’ Once I made that decision I felt good about it. I was thinking we could get all glamoured up and really turn some heads. Who cares if the big stars didn’t show; they’d only steal our light….
“Then about two weeks later they left for Vegas. May second or third. Then on May seventh she called and said, ‘It ain’t happening.’ She didn’t sound too good. I asked if something was wrong. She just said, ‘We’ll talk about it later.’ I tried calling her later that day and got her voicemail. I left a message for her to call me. She didn’t respond. Couple days later I left another message. Nothing. A day or two later, I tried again. This time not even a voicemail prompt. I tried a couple more times. Nothing. That’s about when you showed up.”
“May seventh to May twenty-first, that’s a pretty long stretch.”
“Les called me that day.”
“What day? The seventh?”
Mia nodded. “He was back in his Lanikai house. He said that Kay and Matt had visited him on the set. He had been doing some reshoots for his film. The screenwriters and producers were all there. The writers were having issues about ‘artistic integrity’ and the producers kept slapping them down. Les said something was bothering Kay that day on the set. Said she and Matt left quite abruptly. He also said that Matt was all excited about the boxing match, while Kay definitely wasn’t, and she even suggested that maybe she could remain in Arizona. That didn’t make sense. What about the investors? Anyway, Les said he told her he was headed for the airport, coming here, to attend Don Ho’s funeral, which also happened on Cinco de Mayo.”
“That’s right. He just died.” Poor world’s never going to hear “Tiny Bubbles” live again.
“Look, I know you want me to cut to the chase and tell you how she got on Kamana’s radar, so here’s the kicker: The time we went there, even though Kamana was there for what seemed like a few minutes, he did talk with Kay and Matt. I don’t think he realized she was the same woman who had spoken out against the Queen’s Rise development. He wasn’t at the public hearing, and even if he saw video—we joked about this—when she spoke at that public hearing, she wore glasses, her hair pinned up, no makeup … t-shirt and jeans. She didn’t even look like the same person. Anyway, at his house I distinctly noticed him introducing Kay and Matt to a couple of well-dressed guys. You know, players. Slick in their thousand-dollar suits, Rolex watches. On their cell phones half the time. Kamana left them talking and went on to greet other guests. If these guys weren’t investors, I’m positive they were the link to the investors. And Kamana seemed to be the middleman….
“Now that she’s missing I can’t help thinking, what if he did know who she was?” Mia sounded more anxious now. “What if he knew she had testified about the cabins, then learned what the film was about and realized her beliefs were antithetical to his? What if this ‘let’s meet in Vegas thing’ was some kind of set-up, some kind of trap?”
“Or maybe he didn’t know who she was at the party, but by the time they got to Vegas, he had figured it out…. Was Derego there, at the party?”
“No, I don’t remember him being there. He’s the guy’s lawyer; I don’t know if they’re social.”
“Anyone else there worth noting?”
“This union guy—Genaro Blankenship—he was there…. The guy’s bad news.”
Blankenship. That name again. “What do you know about him?”
“Used to head one of the unions. I never can remember which one. One of those smaller unions. I remember the name because I once heard he had a thing for young women. And by young I mean underaged.”
Maybe that’s why Mr. Double-A blushed. Kamana and Blankenship are linked. Could Blankenship have been with the Hawai‘i entourage at Tinian?
“… Kamana’s campaign manager,” Mia was saying. My thoughts had taken me elsewhere and I had missed whatever she was saying.
“Sorry. What did you just say?”
“His campaign manager.”
“Who?”
“Kamana’s!”
“You mean ‘Fat Face’ Irashige?”
“So you know him.”
“Not really, but I saw his name on the documents you gave me.”
“They’re pretty tight: Kamana, Blankenship, and Irashige. He tried to hit on me. Irashige. Fucker…. At the party.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. Happen to know someone named Herb?”
“Herb? No.”
I sat up and pulled my wallet out of my shorts. Mia sat up and I showed her the paper I had found in the book in Matt’s room. She could make no sense of the latter name.
“That party that you were uninvited to,” I said as I slipped the scrap of paper into my wallet, “did it happen already?”
She looked at me sheepishly.
“What?”
“It’s tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.” I could tell she didn’t like the look on my face.
“You could have told me earlier.�
��
“Thought we could—” She walked to her bike and from the bike bag under her seat pulled out a pair of compact binoculars. “—Thought we could use this to see who came to the party.”
I stood up and paced. “Why don’t we just fucking crash it?”
“They check you at the door. Cross your name off the ‘invited’ list.”
“Damn!”
“Sorry.”
I sat down next to her. She was trying.
“If we had that guest list,” I said after thinking it through, “we’d know who attended.”
“I’m sure if you look up Kamana’s list of campaign donors it’ll match up well,” she said in a low, matter-of-fact tone.
“The list they give to the Campaign Spending Commission? I seriously doubt it. Why are we talking about a list anyway?”
“All I’m saying is when I went there they seemed extremely security-conscious.”
Which explained the men milling about.
“So what’re we supposed to do,” I said in frustration, “dig in and spy on the house?”
“Thought that’s what you do.”
“Yes, it is what I do, isn’t it.” It was as funny as it was sad.
Right on cue, cars began arriving. The young men in the white shirts and bow ties valeted these vehicles.
We dug in and watched, taking turns with the binoculars.
No doubt this was a party for the haves, just judging by the cars. For fifteen minutes we watched them arrive: Mercedes and Lexus SUVs; Jaguars, Porsches, and even a Bentley. No place for a Toyota Corolla here. The men and women were disproportionately young and beautiful. There was one woman who reminded me of Amber, though I couldn’t tell for sure.
“Gimme the binocs,” I told Mia.
It sure looked like her, but this woman seemed to have very dark brown hair, with highlights.
I handed the binoculars back to Mia. “The woman in the black dress walking in, you know her?”
Mia adjusted the lens. “No. Doesn’t look familiar.”
I tried dialing the number Amber had given me. It was not in service.
Of course.
“If I find evidence that Kay went with Matt to Tahiti”—which, to me, was a remote yet not entirely implausible possibility, especially considering it was nearly three weeks since she and Matt had left Vegas and there’s little that points anywhere else—“I’m taking the next flight out.”
We were lying on the grass at this point, looking at the stars, speculating. In the back of my mind, I was trying to fit the Amber puzzle into all of this—a piece that wouldn’t go in.
“I’m coming with you.”
“It’s costly and you got your training.”
“This is more important. Besides, I can train anywhere.” “Hotel rates are ridiculous. Summer rates.”
“It’s winter there.”
“No, it’s not. It’s the dry season, which runs from April till October. And price is determined by the point of departure. You wouldn’t want to go there during the wet season. November through March. It’s muggy as hell.”
“You’re gonna tell me about the flora and fauna too.”
“Mati, noni, itatae, and geckos.”
“Sounds like a law firm.”
“I did some work for them.”
“You don’t want me to go.”
“I think we’re jumping the gun here.”
“Thought we were partners in this.”
“I’m having second thoughts.”
That didn’t come out right. She was obviously offended.
“Look. If I go,” I told her, “I can’t stop you from coming.”
“We could camp out. Save money.”
“You could camp.”
“We could share a room.”
Was this a red flag? A white one?
“Don’t resist,” I whispered to her as soon as I felt their presence. “We got company.” I rolled over onto her and pressed my lips against hers, annoyed with myself for not bringing a weapon. Mia pushed back for a split second and then she caught on and surrendered. She parted her lips. Grabbed my ass for effect. I cupped her left breast.
“Hey guys, this ain’t a make-out place.”
I jumped up, as if totally taken off guard, pulled away from Mia, looked up at the two huge men appearing out of the darkness. The younger, taller of the two had spoken. He appeared to be 6′7′′ or 6′8′′, with cropped, spiky black hair on top and curly blond hair that ran down the back and sides to his shoulders.
“What’s the problem?” I said as I stood up, smirking as if I had been caught with my hand in the nookie jar.
“This park is private,” the bald one with the goatee said. He was significantly older than the hulk he stood next to.
“Really? Jeez. I didn’t know.”
“Read the sign, brah,” the younger one said. He crossed his arms. “You guys live around here?”
“Yeah. Down in the valley,” I said really quick. Right at that moment I remembered Mia’s description of the guy she saw with Kay and then Kamana. Could this be him? Borrowing a line from Mia, I said, “You guys got a great neighborhood watch.” They didn’t see the humor in it.
Mia had gotten up slowly. She seemed shaken, yet had somehow managed to conceal the binoculars. We went to our bikes, got on them. They watched our every step. Intimidation was second nature to these guys.
The first thing Mia mouthed when we rode downhill was That was him! I understood. On my prompting, when we reached Lunalilo Home Road, we turned right and rode into the valley.
“We should wait a while,” I said as we rode side by side. “Make sure they’re not following.”
“I got a better way. Follow me.”
Mia showed me a less traveled route, which began on a side street that most nonresidents would never bother with and that took us way in the back of the valley. The nicely paved road disappeared, as did the nice houses. We were now on rough terrain, passing what looked to be farms and nurseries. Mia pointed out an acre of dryland taro. This was Hawai‘i from half a century ago, or the North Shore thirty years back. A nocturnal chicken crossed the torn-up road. When we reached a gate Mia got off the bike and lifted the latch to open it. We walked our bikes through and soon we were back in civilization, earmarked by Safeway, Costco, and City Mill.
“It was him,” Mia kept saying. She was shivering, and not from the cold.
“I’m sure it was,” I said in reply. Could this have been a result of my encounter with Double-A? It seemed too quick. “Where’s the binocs?”
“In my jersey pocket.” I looked at the trio of back pockets that ran just above her waist. One of them bulged disproportionately.
“Good work.”
We were chilled by the time we got back to Flats. When we got off the bikes, I asked Mia if she was headed to Lanikai.
“No. I got a place in town.”
“Where?”
“On Monsarrat.”
“That’s not far from where I live. I’ll follow you.”
“Uh, OK.” She was still visibly nervous. “Something’s really wrong, isn’t it?”
“We don’t know that yet. One thing for sure, we’re on someone’s radar. You need to lay low.” I reached in and squeezed her shoulder. “Good kiss, by the way.”
“Acting.”
I started to walk away when I heard Mia say, “You wanna eat something. I’m starved.”
I turned. “Yeah. How about Diamond Head Grill?” That was right on her street.
“Yeah, sure.”
23
Dining was strictly outdoor—pine wood picnic tables laid out in a row against the store wall. But the stars were out. Mia had a salmon salad. I had salmon too, with a green salad and a scoop of brown rice. We were silent as we ate.
After I took my last bite I absently reached for a cigarette.
“You got to be kidding.”
“I just like to hold it,” I said as I held it between my index and middle fi
ngers. “Keeps me warm.” As did the windbreaker I now wore. Mia had a jacket on over her bike jersey. She was shivering still. I reached into my windbreaker pocket, felt no match, but instead rediscovered my poker chip from that night at Andy’s. I’d bet it was still green around the edges.
“It’s warmer if you light it,” she said, as if a part of her wanted to embrace that warmth.
“You’ve never smoked?”
“Tried a few times. It didn’t take.”
“I use it mostly as a prop. Tap it against the table. See?”
“Prop.” She shook her head.
“Helps me think.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Now she was doing one-word answers. I was hesitant to bring up the case—we had probably exhausted it for the night anyway, though I was sure it was all she had on her mind.
After some fat minutes of silence I said, “When you first talked to me about Kay’s dad, you said he was an extortion and shakedown artist.”
“Whatever he was, he was her father first and she’s always spoken highly of him. In Kay’s mind he’s anything but a criminal lowlife. He was shot on Maunakea. This happened when Kay was eight or nine.”
“She was eight.”
“Well, you probably know more than I do.”
“I’m curious about something. You talked to her on May seventh, right after her Vegas trip. Do you have any idea where she was calling from? Any hint? Any observation she may have made? Any background noise, like slot machines ringing, dogs barking?”
“No … not really.”
“I really don’t think Matthew ever got to Tahiti. Hell, I don’t think they even left the continent.”
“Where do you think they are?”
“I didn’t wanna do it this way, since they have a two-and-a-half-week head start, but I could try picking up their scent in Vegas.”
“I’ll go there with you. Fuck the race.”
Here we go again.
“Not that I’m all that fond of Vegas,” she continued. “I don’t know why so many Hawai‘i people love to gamble. Throw all their money away.”
“I’m a gambler.”
“Yah, right.”
I pulled out the green chip and laid it on the pine table. “This is how I won my boat.”
For a Song Page 18