Now
it was Hatch’s turn to be silent.
“I’ve
got to get going,” I said. I stood up. “I’ve got to check out limo drivers in
the morning, and then I’ve only got four more days until the biggest wedding
I’ve done in months.”
Again,
he played the mute card.
“Okay.
You want me to thank you for giving me the heads-up on Kingston? Fine. I’ll be
careful. But in return, I need you to accept my apology for not calling on
Sunday.”
He
nodded. “I’m working tomorrow but you can stay over if you want.” It sounded
less like an invitation than an attempt to clear the air.
“
Mahalo
,
maybe next time.”
I
crossed the lanai and turned back and looked at him. More than anything, I
wanted to ask his opinion of Crystal Wilson’s disappearance, along with the
hair, the fingernails, and the creepy voicemails. I’d been so relieved when
Wong had taken the fingernails with him, but then he’d snatched away that good
feeling with his last call. Maybe if Hatch heard me out and agreed with Wong
that it was probably all a joke I could shake the nagging feeling I should be
doing something about finding her.
“You
got something else you want to say?” Hatch’s tone let me know I was in jeopardy
of overstaying my welcome.
“No,
I’m just tired. I need to get to bed before I fall over.”
“Take
it easy up on Baldwin.” He said, his voice softening. “Scanner’s saying they’ve
got a DD checkpoint set up near the Hana Highway intersection.”
“
Mahalo
.
I’ll be careful.”
***
Steve
wasn’t around when I got home. I didn’t bother checking to see if he was
upstairs, but went straight to my room, stripped off my clothes and crawled
into bed. The wine, coupled with very little food all day, was working its
magic on my usually racing thoughts. I was asleep before I knew it.
The
next morning I awoke at five. Usually, I roll over and get my best sleep of the
night until the alarm goes off at seven-thirty. But I couldn’t drop off again.
I tossed and turned, plumping the pillow and flipping it over for about a half
hour before giving up. A beautiful young woman was out there, in the dark.
Someone had chopped off her hair and ripped off her fake fingernails. Worse,
from the looks of things, I was the only person on the entire island who gave a
damn.
CHAPTER 13
At
six a.m. I pulled into a parking spot behind the Palace of Pain. For me, the
best antidote to stress is an hour of kicking and screaming. I hadn’t been down
there for a while and I expected some ribbing from Sifu Doug, my kung fu
instructor and the owner of PoP, but when I arrived he wasn’t there.
I
let myself in using the key I’d been given when I’d earned my first black belt.
No matter how recently Doug had cleaned, the PoP always smelled the same:
sweat and grimy feet. I kind of liked it. I imagined that’s what my dad
would’ve smelled like after a hard day at work. But I’d never know what my dad
smelled like since he’d hot-footed it back to the mainland when I was just a
baby. My mom died before I was old enough to ask her if she had any idea where
he’d gone.
I
flipped on a single light switch. There were four rows of fluorescent bulbs,
but I preferred the cool, cave-like ambiance of just one row to the blazing
in-your-face glare Sifu Doug insists on while teaching classes. I warmed up by
going through my entire repertoire of forms. I usually skip the easy ones and
get down to business, but I paid penance for my recent absence by starting at
Form One and doggedly working my way up the line.
Around
seven, my sifu showed up.
“Hey,
call the cops. We got alien intruders in here!” Doug grinned and switched on
the rest of the lights.
“
Aloha
,
Sifu. I figured I better get back down here before you took my picture off the
wall.”
He
turned toward the display of portraits of all the black belt fighters who
trained at PoP. “You still up there? I tol’ them to take you down
months
ago.”
He
came across the mat and we did a quick, but complicated handshake routine that
included fist-bumps, palm slaps, and so on. It was one of those things the guys
took very seriously but I never did. Nevertheless, I’d worked my way into
acceptance and I wasn’t about to blow it over some Mars versus Venus thing.
“What’s
with you skipping practice?” he said. “I was gonna call and nag you, but I ran
into Steve at the market and he said you been real busy working on a fancy
wedding.”
“Yeah,
I have. But it’ll be over on Saturday. I promise I’ll get down here more often
after that.”
“Good.
Well, I’ve got some paperwork I need to catch up on. You’re still planning on
coming next Monday night, right?”
I
hesitated. I’d completely forgotten Monday’s promotion ceremony.
“Uh,
sure. You need me to judge?”
“No,
I’ve already got the judges lined up. But I like to have all the black belts
here to observe. It means a lot to the little guys.”
“How
many are up for promotion?”
“Twenty-three.
White to brown.” That meant it would be an hours-long ceremony, mostly little
kids. And, with brown belt as the highest level, pretty boring. But there was
no way I’d gripe to my sifu.
“Wouldn’t
miss it.”
“Great.
Well, I’ll let you get back at it. Good to see you, Pali. We miss you when
you’re not around.” I felt a pang of remorse for staying away so long. Then it
hit me. Doug was one of the most solid guys I knew—a happy family man, former
Army Ranger. He was highly disciplined and no-nonsense. If he smelled a rat, it
was time to bait the traps.
“Doug,”
I said. Doug turned, his eyes squinting at me as if I’d whispered
help
.
I rarely addressed him by his given name and he seemed to sense I wasn’t going
to ask for tips on stance or breathing.
“What’s
up? You got some trouble?”
“I
don’t know.” I asked if we could talk in his office for a few minutes. “I
promise I’ll keep it short.”
“No
worries. I’d rather blow off this paperwork for a while anyway.”
I
went through a quick review: finding the hair on Halloween; my trip to the
police station; the bridal couple dismissing Crystal’s disappearance because
she was a flake; the fingernails hanging on my doorknob and, finally, Wong’s
claim that the whole thing was a prank. When I finished, I blew out a breath.
“That’s
it?” he said.
“Pretty
much.”
“Have
you talked to Farrah?”
I
nodded.
“What’d
she say?”
“She
did a tarot reading for the bridal couple and didn’t like the groom much. I
showed her the hair before I gave it to Wong and she said it gave off a really
bad vibe. I think her words were ‘feels to me like that missing girl’s in deep
doo-doo’.”
“Yeah?
Well, I vote with her.”
“So,
what should I do?”
“I
think you know what you should do, but you don’t want to do it.”
“Story
of my life.”
“Story
of everybody’s life,” he said with a smile. “That’s why we kick major ass
around here.”
***
It
was coming up on eight o’clock when I turned into the alley behind my shop. I’d
spent the entire commute to Lahaina fussing over what to do about Crystal, and
I wasn’t any further along than I’d been in Pa’ia. I parked as close to the
wall as I could to block entry to my passenger-side door with the broken lock.
I pushed down the locks on the other doors before heading upstairs. The smell
in the alley seemed pretty tame and I hoped the atmosphere in my shop would
follow suit. I’d be leaving in less than an hour, though, so no biggie.
I
turned the key in the door and, as I entered, I checked the desk phone to see
if the message light was blinking. It wasn’t.
My
appointment with the limo service was at nine, and the place was only fifteen
minutes away. I busied myself getting the coffee all set up, everything ready
to go, for my eleven o’clock meeting with Keith and Nicole. I considered going
over to Star Market to pick up some pastries, but nixed that idea. It’d be
better to treat them to lunch downstairs at Hargrove’s. A rather expensive
gesture, but I figured I needed to haul out the lavish to make up for not
getting in touch with them all weekend.
I
pulled up to Napili Limo at nine on the dot and Manny waved me in past a
snarling Doberman. He held the dog’s collar while I got out.
“You
need that beast to keep out intruders?” I said.
“I
keep him for show. I don’t want nobody messing with my cars. But he don’t bite.
Never has. I think if some guy showed up with a mess of jerky ol’ Duke here
would let him drive a limo right on outta here.” He scrubbed the dog’s ears,
and the Doberman nuzzled his hand for more.
“Can
I see the cars you’ve got lined up for me for this weekend?”
“Sure,
no worries. I saved the best ones for you.”
I
looked around the scrubby dirt lot. There were three limos—two white, one
black.
“I
ordered four,” I said.
“Yeah,
I know. I got one getting the tires rotated.”
“C’mon,
Manny. Don’t mess with me. Where’s the fourth one?”
He
shook his head. “Cracked up. My brother takes it out for one night and manages
to run off the highway down by Puamana. Tore the shit out of the
undercarriage.” He grinned. “But don’ you worry, I got an uncle up in Wailuku.
He’s got a nice van. Real clean. He offered to ride your people.”
“Manny,
these are rich California people. They can tell the difference between a
minivan and a limo.”
“But
it’s real nice. Kind of a dark red. Got chrome rims—the whole nine yards.”
It
was too late for me to find something else. I’d have to mention the van at
today’s meeting with Keith and hope he’d go along with it.
“Okay,
Manny, but I’m not paying limo prices for your uncle’s
keiki
-van ride.
Half.”
“Half?
No way. The gas is the same, the wear on the tires the same, and I gotta pay
the driver for the same amount of time.”
“The
driver’s gonna be your uncle, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then
he gets half. If he’s smart and he shows them a good time maybe he’ll get a
nice tip. But I’m not paying a hundred bucks an hour for a Wailuku minivan,
nice rims or no. Fifty bucks—tops. And I want you to shave a little off
the others because you promised me four limos and you’re only giving me three.”
He
stared at me; I stared back.
“God,
you’re a mean
wahine
. I try to make a living here, you know? I got two
kids, and this dog here eats like a third kid. It’s not easy, dude.”
I
was getting perturbed. “Look Manny, when your
brudda
smacked up your
limo you should’ve called me and told me what was up. I don’t like surprises.
Especially last-minute surprises. Now, do we have a deal or not?”
“How
about ninety bucks for the others and seventy-five for the van?” he offered.
“How
about I take my business someplace else?” I started for my car, aware that if
Manny let go of that Doberman, he might get to see his dog bite someone for the
very first time.
“Okay,
okay. Seventy-five for the limos, fifty for the van.”
“And
who’s going to be driving?” I said.
“I
drive the bride and her girls; my
brudda
Kane—he’s not the one who did
the crash, that’s my other
brudda
—drives the groom with the guys. I’ll
get my sister’s husband, Larry, to drive the third limo and then my uncle will
bring over the van. Sound good?”
I’d
worked with everyone he’d mentioned except the Wailuku uncle. “Can I call your
uncle and talk to him beforehand?”
“Sure.
He works swing, unloading barges at the Kahului wharf. But you can call him in
the afternoon—around four o’clock, before he has to be at work.”
Terrific.
Today I get to tell Keith that not only is he not getting the four limos I’d
promised, but the replacement van will be driven by a day-sleeping
longshoreman.
I
gave Manny his deposit and got a receipt. I went through the timetable with him
and warned him of the consequences for being even ten minutes late.
“Whoo-ee,
you one hard-ass lady,” he said. “I don’t know why you pound on me so bad. Have
I ever let you down?”
I
made it back to the shop by ten-thirty and, again, parked close to the wall to
prevent anyone from getting into my car through the unlocked passenger door.
By
ten-forty, the coffee was perking and I’d fought back the downstairs kitchen
smells using my arsenal of odor fighters.
I
pulled out the Keith Lewis/Nicole Johnson wedding file to scan for any
overlooked details while I waited.