“No,
Ms. Moon, you probably aren’t. But if I know anything, it’s that all the jokers
come out on Halloween. I’ll put out a BOLO for your missing young woman, but
I’m sure she’ll show up on her own in a day or two. Oh, and about the vandalism
to your car? I’ll get a copy of my report to you within a couple of days.
Here’s my card if you need the report before then.” He handed me his business
card. Then he turned and walked away.
I’d
assumed I’d feel better once that creepy hair was out of my car. But I didn’t.
I felt like I’d just shoved Crystal Wilson off a high cliff and I could hear
her screaming all the way down.
CHAPTER 6
I
drove to my house using muscle memory. My mind was elsewhere. Who’d left the
hair in my car and why? Was Wong right and it was just someone playing a
Halloween prank? More importantly, was Crystal Wilson still missing? I didn’t
notice the traffic and I didn’t remember braking for any stop signs or red
lights. I snapped back to the present as I took the right turn from Hali’imaile
Road onto my street.
Steve
was sitting on the front porch. He waved as I drove around back, and then he
met me at the kitchen door.
“I’ve
been waiting for you. Couldn’t reach you on your cell.”
“Sorry.
The thing keeps dying on me.” I pulled out my cell phone and showed him the
blank screen.
“Well,
all hell’s been breaking loose here the past couple of hours.”
“What’s
going on?”
“Phone’s
been ringing off the hook. For starters, Keith, the guy from your La-la Land
wedding, phoned at least three times. On the last call he got downright ugly
and accused me of not giving you his messages. Farrah’s called a couple of
times, and then Glen Wong just called a few minutes ago. He wants you to call
him back right away. There were a couple others. I wrote ‘em down.” He pointed
to a stack of paper scraps on the counter.
I
stared at the stack, plotting my phone-back strategy.
“Hey,”
Steve went on. “Why’s Wong calling you? You find another dead body or
something?”
His
talk of
another dead body
got me thinking. My reputation as a wedding
planner would really take a hit if word got around I was on the grim reaper’s
speed dial. It’d be wise to keep the ponytail-on-the-backseat and the missing
bridesmaid to myself, at least until the police made a move. The last thing I
needed was the media getting wind of it and blowing it into a breaking news
story about tourist safety going down the tubes on Maui. Steve did freelance
photography for
The Maui News
and had a lot of friends in the newsroom,
so I played it cool.
“Nah.
My car got keyed in Lahaina last night so I went down to the police station to
fill out a report. Wong took my statement.”
“Ace
Detective Glen Wong took a damage report on a car worth about five bucks? My,
my, how the mighty have fallen.” Steve smiled. He and Wong were friends and no
doubt there was going to be some trash talking about Wong taking my pathetic
report down at the gay bar where they both hung out. But Wong was used to
keeping secrets—his own and other people’s—so I was pretty sure he’d keep his
mouth shut about the hair.
“He
was the last guy to leave the station so I guess it fell to him,” I said,
trying to cut Wong some slack. “He probably just called to tell me he’s got the
police report ready for me. You know, so I can file an insurance claim.”
“So,
what’s going on with your guy Keith? Why’s he calling and calling? He got a
beef with you?”
“Who
knows? I went down to Lahaina Harbor to check out the boat where they’re having
the ceremony and it’s all good. The captain’s a nice guy, the boat’s gorgeous,
and we’re all set up for next weekend’s ceremony. Say, have you had a chance to
talk to them about wedding pictures?”
“Yeah,
we talked on Tuesday. They ordered the full meal deal. I’ll be shooting nonstop
from the minute they get up next Saturday until they’re going to bed that
night. I hope they don’t want me to stick around for anything beyond that. I’m
not into that kind of stuff.”
“In
more ways than one.”
“Funny.”
The
kitchen phone started ringing. Steve threw up his hands and turned and left
through the swinging door.
“Hey,”
said Farrah. “Why didn’t you call me back?”
“My
cell died and I just got home. What’s up?”
“Guess
who I met this afternoon?”
I
knew it was Nicole, but friends don’t steal friends’ thunder. “Who?”
“Your
guy—Keith Lewis.”
“Really?
The guy? Not the bride?”
“Oh
yeah, she came in first, but then she wanted me to do him.”
“And…”
“You
know that creepy ponytail you showed me last night? I got a real strong vibe
about it when I laid out Keith’s cards. By the way, has your bridesmaid shown
up yet?”
“Not
that I know of. But I took your advice and went to the police.”
“What’d
they say?”
“Not
much. Remember me telling you about Detective Glen Wong from that thing that
happened last winter?” Of course she remembered. The “thing” I was referring to
had been a personal tragedy for Farrah.
“Yeah.”
Her voice was hushed, like even the slightest recall of the incident brought it
all rushing back.
“Wong’s
the guy who took my report today. And he took the hair as evidence.”
“Well,
good. Now you can let it go. It’s not your problem anymore. But after reading
Keith’s cards, I’ve got a strong feeling he may quickly become a person of
interest if your girl doesn’t show up soon.”
“Huh.
What’d you see?”
“All
I can say is there’s some wicked
ohane
around those two—especially him.”
“He
was one cool customer when they came in to order their cakes this morning.”
“Go
figure. Hey, the guys from the county permit office were at your shop in Pa’ia
today.”
“They
say anything?”
“Not
much. A couple of them came in the store at lunchtime to get a sandwich. I did
some serious pitching about how small businesses like yours were the soul of
Pa’ia Town. They were sympathetic and all, but said their hands are tied by the
historical society nut jobs. I think you should consider doing some serious
sucking up to Bessie Yokamura.”
Bessie
was the head of the Maui Mo’olelo Society, and it was pretty much Bessie, and
only Bessie, who determined what was and was not culturally worth saving on the
island.
“As
soon as this wedding’s over I’ll think about it. For now, I’m okay where I am.”
“That’s
pretty much how I feel about finding a new place to live. One day they’re gonna
catch me living up here, but until then, I’m saving a boatload on rent.”
We
wound up the call, but I promised I’d come by the next morning before heading
down to Lahaina.
Next,
I called Glen Wong at his office number even though I knew he’d have gone home
by then. The dispatcher asked if it was an emergency or did I want to leave a
voicemail. I left a message.
Finally,
I called Nicole’s cell number. Given the uneasy feeling I had about Keith, I
chose to deal with her rather than with him.
“Oh,
hi Pali,” she said when I announced myself.
“Give
me that phone,” said Keith in the background. There was a jostling noise
and then Keith was on the call. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to get
hold of you for
hours
!”
“I
was checking out the boat for your ceremony. Then I drove up to Kula to order
your cakes. I’ve been working on
your
wedding the entire day.”
“That
doesn’t explain why you don’t answer your phone. Maybe me and Nicole wanted to
go with you to see the boat.”
“My
cell phone died. And the reason I didn’t invite you to go along to the harbor
is I needed to check it over first and make sure it was okay. You wouldn’t want
me wasting your time looking at a scow, would you?”
“Isn’t
that some kind of pig?”
“That’s
a
sow
. A
scow
is a boat used to haul garbage.”
“Whatever,”
he said. “I need to talk to you—pronto. Can you come over here?”
“Tonight?
It’s getting kind of late.”
Silence
served as his answer.
“Okay,
no problem,” I said. “Give me an hour to grab something to eat, and I’ll—“
“No!
I’ve already been waiting forever. Get your ass down here
right now
.”
I
quickly changed clothes and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge before heading
back out to my car.
Since
money obviously wasn’t an object in Nicole and Keith’s wedding choices, they
were staying in a colossal suite at the Kapalua Ritz-Carlton in West Maui. The
resort was about as far away as you could get, both symbolically and
physically, from my place in Hali’imaile. I took the Honoapi’ilani Highway
along the edge of the West Maui Mountains, down to the coast at Launiupoko,
past Lahaina Town and then kept going. And going.
The
highway necks down at Kapalua and becomes a narrow lane that creeps around the
extreme north side of the island like a glorified goat trail. The people who
live beyond Kapalua are mostly hardcore locals who don’t mind the one-lane
stretches and steep drop-offs to the valleys and ocean below. For their
trouble, they’re rewarded with a pristine natural setting. The constant
offshore winds blow across thousands of miles of ocean bringing in fresh,
oxygen-rich air that’s about as unpolluted as any you’ll find on Earth.
But
I wasn’t going that far. The Ritz is situated on a hill, before the roadway
narrows. It’s the last stop in a long string of oceanfront development that
defines West Maui. I pulled into the upper parking lot and made my way past
Kumulani Chapel and into the spacious lobby of the hotel. I’d assisted a few
brides who’d gotten married at the Ritz—either in the chapel or on D.T. Fleming
beach. The on-site staff had always treated me graciously, but I couldn’t help
feeling like a sticky-faced kid crashing an adults-only party whenever I showed
up there. Needless to say, I didn’t wear tee-shirts or shorts when I went to
the Ritz. For my meeting with Keith I’d gone totally wrinkle-free in polyester
black slacks topped by a
faux
silk tunic with a Chinese-style bamboo
print. Farrah had scored the tunic for me at a yard sale in Wailuku. It looked
like it had probably once been part of a bartender’s uniform, but the price was
right. I’d substituted my ubiquitous
rubba slippas
for a pair of black
strappy sandals. In other words, I looked as respectable as I ever got when not
attending an actual wedding.
The
suites wing was off to my right, but just to be on the safe side, I checked in
at the front desk. What with finding the hair, dealing with the cops, and
then Farrah’s verdict on Keith’s creepy vibe, I wanted to leave a clear trail
of pebbles should I also go missing.
“Ah,
Ms. Moon,” said the clerk at the desk. “I have a message for you.” He picked up
a folded piece of heavy ivory-colored vellum and handed it to me. Inside, Keith
had scrawled,
I’ll meet you in the lobby.
I
asked the clerk to ring their room and announce my arrival.
About
five minutes later, Keith ambled across the marble floor. He’d come alone. His
hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his shorts and his head was down. I
waited until the last possible moment to rise from the oh-so-comfy upholstered
armchair to greet him.
“
Aloha
,
Keith. Again, I’m so sorry I was unreachable this afternoon. My phone has
decided to go on strike unless I meet its demands for a new battery. And my
phone’s so old I have to get the battery from off-island—in Honolulu—so it’s
going to take a little while for me to get a new one.”
He
looked as confused as if I’d spoken to him in Hawaiian—or maybe Greek.
“You
okay?” I said, gesturing for him to join me in snagging one of the many
unoccupied chairs in the airy lobby. Each of the chair groupings faced the
ocean, and from the looks of things, it promised to be a spectacular sunset.
“Can
we go somewhere else to talk?” he said, surveying the lobby.
There
wasn’t another soul in sight except for the two chatting clerks at the check-in
desk.
“Sure,
but I think we’ll be fine here. I doubt if they’ve bugged the lobby.” I smiled,
but Keith’s scowl grew deeper.
“I
don’t want what I’ve got to say to get back to Nicole. How about we go out to
your car?”
“Sure,
no problem.”
As
I trudged out of the opulent lobby, I stole a quick backward glimpse of the
rose, peach and maroon-streaked sky. What kind of news wouldn’t be better
received against such a stunning backdrop? Oh well, clients were always
demanding things that didn’t make much sense to me.