Lana'i of the Tiger (The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) (23 page)

“Cooling your heels? Gimme a
break, Wong. You were called to Lana’i to work this murder investigation. My
taking off had nothing to do with you still being here.” I paused to allow him
time to silently agree with me. “So, tell me the news.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he
shot me a smug look and shrugged.

“C’mon, Detective Wong,” I said,
but truthfully I couldn’t blame him. I’d been the object of a police BOLO for
almost forty-eight hours. No doubt he’d lost a lot of face by not being able to
round up a
haole
-looking out-of-towner on an island with fewer people
than you could fit in the bleachers at Maui High School. 

“I’ve got to check on something,
Ms. Moon,” Wong said. “You sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

CHAPTER
29

No surprise, I was left staring
at the walls of that interview room for more than an hour before Wong returned.

Without a word of explanation
for his prolonged absence, he set a Diet Pepsi and a packaged sandwich on the
table. “Hungry?”

I nodded and ripped into the
tuna salad on wheat like a cheetah on a limping gazelle. When I finished, Wong gestured
for me to get up and follow him.

“May I ask where we’re going?” I
said.

“Sure, asking’s free.”

“But you’re not going to tell
me?”

He stood in the doorway. “Does
it really matter, Ms. Moon? You’re here at the behest of your government, for
your own safety and to maintain the security of a federal action against a high
level illegal drug operation. Where you go or how long it takes should be the
least of your concerns. What you should be focused on is what an honor it is
for you to be of service to your homeland in ridding our islands of the
criminal element that’s destroying our next generation with their meth, their crack
and their heroin.”

What I thought was,
Quite a
speech Detective Wong. You should consider running for political office.
What I said was: “I was just curious if we were leaving tonight or if you had
to stick around to finish up the Diamonte murder investigation.”

“There are no ferries or planes
out until morning,” he said. “We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow. That’s all
I’m at liberty to say.”

“Well, are you at liberty to let
me know where I’ll be staying tonight? From what I hear, the jail here is barely
adequate.”

“I’ll be staying at the Hotel
Lana’i,” he said.

I waited.

“Okay, you did turn yourself in.
I guess it’s only fair to catch you up on a few things.”

And with that Detective Glen
Wong began filling me in on everything that had happened in the past couple of
days. Seems the grand jury members in Los Angeles had been notified they’d be
sworn in two days after Christmas. Subpoenas had already been issued and I
wasn’t on the list. Not being on the federal witness list meant I was no longer
eligible for witness protection. Which meant I was free to come and go as I
pleased. However, it also meant if the scumbag drug dealers on Maui hadn’t
gotten the memo, there was probably still a price on my head.

“You’re welcome to stay here
tonight in a holding cell,” he said. “But, as you pointed out, the
accommodations are barely adequate.”

I didn’t want to impose on
Auntie Cora again, especially since now I was truly a safety risk. But I also
didn’t want to spend my last night on Lana’i on a two-inch mattress in a tiny outbuilding
with a dog run for an exercise yard.

“Or,” said Wong. “You could come
up to the hotel with me. I’m sure I can get the department to approve an
additional room for just one night.”

“
Mahalo
, detective. I’d
really appreciate that. I’ll reimburse you when we get back home.”

He shot me a thin smile. “Don’t
worry about it.”

Wong said we’d have to walk to
the hotel since all the cop cars were still up at the Lodge. 

“Have they found anything?” I
said as we started out. “You mentioned something about additional evidence?”

Wong looked at me and shook his
head. “You never stop, do you? Why’d you leave your job at Homeland Security?
Seems someone as unrelenting as you would’ve risen right up the ranks.”

“Well, Detective Wong, as I’m
sure you know, things aren’t always what they seem.”

***

We checked in and I went down the
hall to my small guestroom at the back of the building. The bedroom window
looked out on a wide sloping lawn and an enormous Cook pine. After a month of
smelling the tang of pine every day I was getting used to it. Maybe in future
holiday seasons I’d remember my time on Lana’i and I’d wax nostalgic about the
scent of Christmas trees in the air. Or maybe not.

I got into bed but I couldn’t
sleep. I was finally going home. Home to my little clapboard house in
Hali’imaile, my newly-refurbished wedding shop in Pa’ia, and the
kung fu
gym where I’d work out nearly every day. After over a month I’d be reunited
with my friends. For me, my friends were my
ohana
—my family. The only
“real” family I had was my half-brother, and I hadn’t laid eyes on him for more
than two years.

I pictured each of my friends’
faces. My gay roommate, Steve; my ‘cake lady’ Keahou; and my
kung fu
instructor, Sifu Doug. I thought of Ono Kingston, sleeping on his boat down in
Lahaina Harbor.

But try as I might, I couldn’t
get to sleep. Maybe it was because I was trying to pull a fast one on myself.
Maybe it was because as much as I loved all the people I’d pictured, there were
two faces I kept pushing away—my boyfriend, Hatch, and my best friend, Farrah.

***

On Sunday, I awoke at six and
hopped out of bed. I went straight into the shower. I put the few belongings
I’d brought with me into my beach bag purse and went out to the lobby to find
Detective Wong.

He was in the dining room having
breakfast.

“Won’t you join me?” he said
when he looked up and noticed me loitering in the doorway.

“Uh, I’m afraid everything on
the menu here is a bit pricey for me,” I said. “I’m unemployed. I just lost a
great job as a government snitch, and gigs like that are hard to come by.”

He laughed, something he rarely
did. “C’mon and have a little something to eat,” he said. “You’re still a guest
of The County of Maui until I return you safely back to your domicile.”

I ordered a light breakfast of
yogurt, fruit and coffee. I had a sneaking suspicion Wong wasn’t going to put
my tab on his expense report. He’d pick it up himself to avoid the appearance
of impropriety. I also ordered light because my stomach was in knots.

“Sleep well?” Wong said.

I shrugged. “I’m pretty excited
to be going home.”

“You know there’s still some
danger.”

“I know. I’ll be careful. I’m
planning on keeping a low profile for a while.”

“Will you be conducting any
weddings in the near future?”

“I wish,” I said. “I’m hoping to
book a few after the first of the year.”

Wong stared at a spot just above
my shoulder for almost a minute before speaking again. “I’m probably out of
line here, but it seems only right to let you in on a few things that have come
to my attention,” he said.

I waited.

“Remember me mentioning new
evidence that was found up at Koele yesterday?” he said. “Well, it turned out
to be a pair of bloody latex gloves. The lab in Honolulu did a quick check for
fingerprints and blood-type last night and we’ve come up with a possible new
scenario.”

I gave him a hint of a nod.

“I’m only telling you this
because I know you’re acquainted with the accused and you’ve been asked to
provide a statement on his behalf. But from the looks of things, that might not
be necessary.”

Now he had my attention.

“Seems the current thinking has
shifted to Mr. Romano being the more likely perpetrator. We know he’d called
the news outfit he was working for and told them he’d gotten a scoop on the
Benson/Diamonte wedding. We also know he’d been promised a large sum of money
for the story. Then it seems Miss Diamonte called Mr. Romano’s editor and told
him she’d changed her mind. When Mr. Romano heard about her change of heart, it
appears he may have gone to Miss Diamonte’s room. He’d have known the room
number since he’d been there when they’d struck the original deal. We can’t
know what his intentions were at that point, but we’re assuming he went there
hoping to change her mind.”

Pieces were starting to fall
into place.

“Anyway, that’s the current mode
of thinking,” Wong said. “And so far, phone records and hotel surveillance
tapes seem to confirm it.”

I was flabbergasted Wong was
sharing this information with me. It wasn’t like we were friends. In fact, on
Wong’s one-to-ten scale of people he liked I’d probably rate about a zero.

“Early forensic tests shows the
blood type on the exterior of the gloves matches that of Miss Diamonte,” he
said. “And interior prints are those of Mr. Romano’s.”

“But you said the fingerprints
on the knife matched Tyler Benson’s,” I said.

“Where’d you hear that?”

“From Darryl Fontaine at the
White Orchid Bed and Breakfast.”

“That’s odd.”  Wong’s eyes
narrowed. “When I spoke with Mr. Fontaine he told me he hadn’t spoken to you
since he left for Honolulu, and he promised he’d call me if you showed up.”

“Uh, well, maybe I heard it from
someone else,” I said.

“Anyway, you’re correct. Mr. Benson’s
prints were on the knife. But the knife was from a room service fruit tray
which had been delivered to Miss Diamonte’s suite earlier that afternoon.”

Whoa. I was getting lost. I bit
my lower lip as I puzzled out what he was saying. Then I took a shot. “So, you
think Tyler used the knife earlier, but he didn’t use it to kill Deedee?”

“Hard to say, but at this point it
looks that way. The police were alerted by Four Seasons security about the gloves.
Those gloves were the missing piece.”

I kept my head down, really
scraping to get the last bit of yogurt in the dish.

“I don’t know the full extent of
your involvement in all of this, Ms. Moon, and frankly I find your pathological
need to dig into matters that are none of your business troubling. But in this
instance, I’m pretty sure whatever you did helped us get to the bottom of
this.”

Was Wong thanking me? Sounded
like it. But there was no way was I’d ask for clarification. As Auntie Mana
would say,
Don’t wake up a sleeping dog
.

He cleared his throat. “Okay,
now let’s finish up and catch that ferry. I’m sure you’re as eager as I am to
get home before Christmas.”

CHAPTER
30

Once again I was treated to the
magnificent view of sailing into Lahaina Harbor. This time, however, I wouldn’t
be staying for just a few hours. This time I was returning for good. We pulled
up to the dock and I looked over to see if the
Maui Happy Returns
was in
port. It wasn’t. Probably Ono had snagged a private snorkel cruise for the
morning, or perhaps he’d been called to O’ahu by the catamaran’s owner.

I slipped my bag onto my
shoulder and followed Wong to the back of the ferry to disembark. The ponytail
guy was standing at the gangway. He shook his head as I approached, but he
didn’t say anything.

Wong stepped aside and allowed
me to walk off the gangway ahead of him.

“You want to make sure you’re
not in the way if they’ve come gunning for me?” I said with a laugh.

He didn’t look amused. “I’ve
ordered stepped-up patrols for your neighborhood,” he said. “There’s not much
more I can do.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I may
go live somewhere else for a while, though. I’m not sure.”

“Do me a favor and let me know where
you are. We’ll move the patrols to wherever you are, unless of course you leave
the island.”

“Don’t worry about that, detective,
I’m home. And I’m not leaving again for a
long
time.”

We made our way through the milling
crowd of people getting off the ferry and the people jostling to get on. Once
we crossed Harbor Avenue, Wong squinted and looked around. His face looked apprehensive,
which didn’t bode well for me.

“Something wrong?” I said.

“No. Everything’s fine.”

“Can you give me a ride up to
Hali’imaile?”

“Uh, in a minute. I need to
check on something first.” He stepped away, ostensibly to allow himself some privacy
while he made a cell phone call. I looked back at the harbor, the ocean, and
the shadowy silhouette of the island of Lana’i in the distance.

***

Wong was still on his phone when
I heard a clear male voice start singing the first lines of “In Dis Life” by
the late Israel “Iz” Kamakawiwo’Ole. I turned around to see who was singing.
During his lifetime, Iz’s haunting rendition of “Over the Rainbow /Wonderful
World” was his most popular song, but my favorite has always been “In Dis
Life.”

The guy who was singing was
crazy good-looking, with a Greek statue’s face, a Chippendale’s physique, and a
well-tended shock of blond hair. Soon, another guy joined in. He was also many
notches above the centerline on the hunky-looks scale. With each phrase of the
lyrics another and then another great-looking guy joined in.

Within a minute, I was
surrounded by more than a dozen guys singing in three-part harmony. The circle
parted and my roommate, Steve, appeared. He grabbed me and hugged me with a
vengeance. I started crying.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he
said. He had to say it pretty loud to be heard over the singing.

“
Mahalo
for coming down
to meet me,” I said. “How did you know I was coming home today?”

Steve turned and looked over at
Wong. “I’ve got my sources.”

When the song was over, the
circle disassembled as quickly as it had come together. But no one left. They
all stood around as if they were waiting for the signal to leave.