Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) (10 page)

“I never forget a name. You’re
Patty Sunshine from the airport, correct?” he boomed, extending his hand.

I didn’t know if he was joking or
he’d really mistaken my name, so I went with it. 

“Hello, sir. Yes, I’m the wedding
coordinator. I’m just going over final preparations with your daughter.”

“Please, sweetheart, no ‘sir’
stuff. Remember, I told you to call me Marv, or, as they say over here:
dude
.”

“Okay, uh, Marv. We’re pretty much
finished here. I understand you’re entertaining this evening and I don’t want
to intrude.” I slipped the copy of the wedding schedule onto the coffee table
and flashed Lisa Marie a big smile.

“No intrusion at all,” Marv said.
“And yes, we’re having a little cookout. Why don’t you join us?”

“Thanks, but I really should be
getting home.”

“Why?”

Uh-oh. Not only am I a lousy liar,
but I’m especially feeble under pressure.

“Uh. Well, I have an injured
fireman staying at my house and…” I hoped he’d leap to the conclusion I was
sorely needed at home to nurse one of Maui’s bravest back to health.

“We won’t keep you out late. If
your fireman gets hungry, tell him to crack open a can of chili. That’s what
those guys eat, right?” He turned and grinned at Lisa Marie. “Puppet, tell your
little friend here I never take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Lisa Marie’s face had taken on the
same vacant gaze I’d noticed at the airport. It was as if Marv sucked all the
oxygen from a room, and whenever he was around she shut down to keep from
suffocating.

She blinked a couple of times and
in a weary voice said, “Of course, Daddy. When you came in I was just going to
ask Pali if she’d be able to stay.” She swiveled her gaze to me. “You can,
right?”

I nodded, feeling trapped but
intrigued to see the Prescott family dynamic in action.  

The second Marv left the room Lisa
Marie leapt off the sofa and stepped in close to me. From the look on her face
I half-expected her to grab my shirt, give me a couple of shakes, and tell me
to get the hell out of Dodge before her father returned.

“You promised your fireman you’d be
home no later than seven, right?” Her tone mimicked me telling the lie she
wished I’d been smart enough to come up with on my own. 

“Seven. Right.”

“Well, make sure you keep your
promise.”

She left the room, yanking the
French doors shut with such force it rattled the glass. The setting sun washed
the walls in a rosy glow and the room became perfectly still. Even Lisa Marie’s
surliness couldn’t blot out the peace that settled over me. The low
swoosh
of waves sliding in and out along the beach reminded me of a ticking clock.

Just three more days.  

CHAPTER 11

A
few minutes later, Josie came in to advise me the guests would be arriving soon
and Marv wanted everyone out on the lanai. The immense space was at least the
size of a basketball court. It was bordered by a knee-high rock wall on the
upper and lower sides and a riprap breakwater on the
makai
—or
ocean—side. The sun perched at the horizon, clouds hovering just above. Rays of
sunshine shot up from behind the clouds creating what we kids used to call a
‘Bible sky.’

A phalanx of butlers, bartenders
and servers carrying plates of
pu’pus—
appetizers—appeared out of nowhere
as soon the guests began arriving. I spotted the Blond Squad—the trio of
statuesque bridesmaids who’d arrived on Marv’s private jet. They were taking
turns flirting with a local-boy bartender who looked like the guy in the Tommy
Bahama commercials.

“Mai tai? Blue Hawaiian? What’s
your pleasure, pumpkin?” Marv said, sneaking up and standing so close behind me
I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

“I don’t usually…I mean I…” I
stammered like a high school kid at a college frat party.

“She probably doesn’t drink when
she’s on the clock, Marv” said Tina, coming to my rescue.

“Right,” I said. “And I can only
stay a few minutes. I promised the fireman—”

“What’d you promise him?” Marv said
with a lewd chuckle. “You gonna trot on home and light his fire?”

 “Marv, now don’t you be naughty,”
said Tina, patting his cheek.

“It wouldn’t kill her to have one
little cocky-tail for the road,” he said.

“You have other guests I’m sure
you’ll want to greet,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll go over right now
and get the bartender to make me something.”

“Good girl. I knew I’d get you to
come around. Good-looking broads can’t resist me.” 

I asked the bartender for a virgin
piña colada with extra fruit. He handed me a drink with three cherries, two
large chunks of pineapple and a wedge of lime skewered on tiny plastic swords.
He added a tiny pink umbrella and a long red straw. The glass was filled to the
brim, but all the fruit and hardware didn’t leave much room for liquid. I
sipped it slowly. No doubt maintaining a full glass was essential to keeping
Daddy Prescott at bay.

“How long have you and Marv been
married?” I said, sidling up to Tina.

“Not long,” she said. She shot me a
guarded look followed by a quick smile. She didn’t appear to be in the mood to
discuss family history.

“Brad’s disappearance was certainly
a shock,” I said.

“Total shock. But to tell you the
truth, I was kind of surprised when Lisa Marie got engaged to him in the first
place. You know what I mean?”

I nodded, hoping it would encourage
her to continue.

“They were just so—I don’t know—so
opposite.”

Again I nodded.

“Now Kevin, he’s more her style. I
always thought they were much more well-suited, like best friends, maybe even
soul mates.
Amicos migliori
, as we say in Italian. Back home, the two of
them spent
way
more time together than she ever did with Brad.”

“Oh?” I said, figuring I couldn’t
get away with just giving her another nod.

“Yeah. With Brad it was always
work, work, work. No fun at all. He’d make dates with her but then it was
almost always Kevin who actually showed up. They were both real party
animals—concerts, dance clubs, movie premieres—”

“Baby doll,” Marv yelled from
across the lanai. I prayed he meant that for Tina and not me.

“Yes, sweet pea?” Tina shot back,
relieving me of the uncertainty.  

Marv motioned her over like a
parking lot attendant helping someone back up a car.

“I’m sorry,” she said to me. “I’ve
got to go see what he needs. He’s cute but he’s high maintenance. It was nice talking
to you.” She shot me a backward toodle-doo wave as she made her way through the
crowd.

I reached into my beach bag purse
and scavenged around for my cell phone. Once I had it in hand, I managed to
activate the ‘check ringtone’ mode by touch. It started chiming and I pulled it
out, doing my best to appear annoyed I’d gotten a call while I was deep into
socializing.

“Sorry,” I said, although no one
seemed to be listening. “I’ve got to take this.”

I put down my drink and put the
dead phone up to my ear, nodding and making
uh-huh
noises as I made my
way into the house.

“Oh sure. No problem,” I muttered
into the mouthpiece. “I’ll be right there.” I slipped the phone back into my
bag as I closed the sunroom door. Lisa Marie was at the other end of the room
huddled with her bridesmaids.

“You all need to go up there and
get your dresses fitted tomorrow morning,” she said, jabbing a finger at what
appeared to be the wedding schedule I’d left for her.

The bridesmaids shot each other
conspiratorial glances.

“Got it,” they said in sing-song
unison.

“Lisa Marie,” I said, coming up to
them. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to leave. If you can think of anything
else we should discuss—”

“There you go again, trying to rope
me
into doing
your
job.” She let out a dramatic sigh, ostensibly
for the benefit of the bridesmaids. “Pali, I told you from the very beginning I
needed a perfect wedding. So if it’s perfect, good. And if it isn’t, well,
Daddy’s not going to be very happy with you.”

As if choreographed, the bridesmaids
pursed their lips and dropped their heads. They stared down at their feet as if
they were the ones being scolded.

“It’ll be fabulous,” I said. It
came out in one long string—like when you say
pleasedtomeetyou
. In other
words, polite—yes; sincere—not so much.

“It better be.” Lisa Marie folded
her arms. “Right, girls?”

“Right,” they muttered, still
eyeballing the floor.

“Okay, then,” I said in a squeaky
voice. “I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

When neither Lisa Marie nor the
bridesmaids offered a reply, I whispered I’d just let myself out and headed for
the foyer.

“
Mahalo
for coming this
evening,” said Josie, smiling and opening the door. She dipped her head in a
quick bow. I bobbed my head in return and asked her to thank Marv and Tina for
their hospitality. Then I sprinted to my car.

***

When I pulled in at home Steve’s
car was out front. I’d hoped to have Hatch all to myself for the evening so I
could clear up a few things, but it wasn’t to be.

“Hey guys, I’m home.” I dumped my
beach bag purse on the entry table and listened. No response. The house was
eerily quiet. I crossed the hall and put an ear to the downstairs bedroom door.
I wasn’t really keen on hearing sounds of activity taking place on the other
side of that door, but I was concerned.

I waited a few seconds but heard
nothing.

I pushed through the kitchen door
to see if maybe they’d left a note.

“Surprise!” Steve was arranging
pupus
on a plate. He wore a pineapple print apron over a tank top and cargo shorts.
He looked adorable, his well-muscled arms deeply tanned, his hair streaked with
natural highlights. “We made a special dinner to celebrate all of us getting
back on our feet.”

“We’re not totally there yet,” I
said, then felt lousy when I saw their smiles dim.

“Well yeah, I’ve still got a few
more weeks to go,” said Hatch. “But at least now I’m vertical. And you and
Steve will finish up that wedding this week so you’ve got money coming in. I’d
say that’s reason enough to celebrate.” He was at the stove, leaning on his
crutch, stirring a saucepan with a wooden spoon.

 “Sorry to be a downer; you’re
right. I’ve just had a tough day. What’s for dinner?”

“We have fabulous vegetarian sushi
which I’ll admit I picked up at Farrah’s. And a fresh chopped salad. And then,”
Steve made a
tah-dah
gesture toward Hatch’s pot on the stove, “Homemade
risotto, shrimp scampi style.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Hey, it’s late. Where’ve you
been?” Steve said. “When I was down at Farrah’s this afternoon, she said you’d
left hours ago.”

I started setting the table. “Like
I said, it was a crazy day. It started out easy enough, calling my vendors. The
good news is everybody’s coming through. But then I went down to work out and I
ended up helping Sifu Doug douse for plague—.”

Steve gasped in horror.

 “It’s not quite as grim as it
sounds. There was a MRSA infection at a karate school down in Lahaina so
everybody has to disinfect. It took us a while to scrub everything down, and
then I popped down to Olu’olu for a quick visit with Lisa Marie. Ends up, she
wasn’t in a bridal party mood, and worse, I got roped into going to a
get-together Marv’s hosting tonight. I managed to sneak out after an hour, but
I’m beat.”

“How’s our pal Lisa Marie holding
up?” Steve said.

I shook my head.

“Let me guess:  she’s not on
the short list for Miss Congeniality?”

“Not even close. If I didn’t need
the money so much I’d have figured out a way to weasel out of this by now. It’s
all a charade. What it boils down to is an incredibly expensive beach party for
a snotty bitch in a handmade silk dress. ”

“Whew, we better get our girl here
a
jumbo
glass of wine—pronto.” Steve pointed to the refrigerator. Hatch
hopped over and took out a bottle of Tedeschi Maui Blanc wine, already
uncorked. He managed, with just one hand, to neatly fill the three wine glasses
lined up on the counter.

“My favorite,” I said. 

“You talking to me?” said Hatch.

“Yes, you. And you, too.” I leaned
my head on Steve’s shoulder. “Who needs sex when I get to spend my nights with
great guys like you?”

“Was that a slam?” said Hatch.
“Just ‘cuz I’m busted-up for a while doesn’t mean I’m a eunuch.”

“Nothin’ eunuch about you, my man.
Nothin’ at all,” said Steve. He clinked his glass against Hatch’s.

I felt like I’d crashed a
honeymoon.

CHAPTER 12

I
shooed Steve and Hatch out of the kitchen as soon as we finished eating. I told
them I had a rule about cooks not helping with clean-up, but really I just
wanted some time to myself. I was almost finished with the dishes when the
phone rang.

“Can you get that?” I yelled to
Steve. “It’s probably for you anyway.”

Steve picked it up and after a beat
I heard him laughing. Laughing was good. Laughing meant it probably wasn’t a
surly creditor or anyone associated with Lisa Marie’s wedding. After a half-minute
of conversation the swinging door to the kitchen was pushed open and Steve
thrust the portable phone at me.

“It’s Farrah. She’s talking crazy.
I told her crazy calls were best handled by the lady of the house.”

I crimped the phone between my
shoulder and chin. “What’s up?” I said. I wiped my hands on a dish towel,
expecting it might take awhile.

“You need to come down here.”

“Farrah, it’s almost nine o’clock
and I’ve had a really long day.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a
matter of life and death.”

“Farrah! If this is an emergency,
you should call nine-one-one.” I was getting worried.

“I don’t think they’d be much help.
Besides, it’s not about me.”

“Who’s in trouble?”

“Just get down here, okay?” Her
voice was tight. “I can’t talk about it on the phone.”

I told the guys I was headed down
to Farrah’s and I’d be back as soon as I could.

“You need me to come along?” Steve
asked. He looked up from the TV with a face that had
please say ‘no’
written all over it.

“No, it’s probably some girl thing.
I’ll call you if it’s anything serious.”

Hatch said, “If it does turn out to
be something serious, I’ll be glad to help. Don’t forget, I’m a certified EMT.”

“Thanks, but knowing Farrah, her
life and death emergency will probably require a hug and a big glass of wine
more than medical expertise.”

I parked in the unlit alley behind
the Gadda-da-Vida. Farrah’s living quarters were upstairs at the top of a
flight of rickety wooden stairs. Her daily commute was thirteen steps down to
the back door of the store. She didn’t own a car, didn’t even know how to
drive. I climbed the pitch dark stairway and rapped on the door. Farrah whipped
it open. In the backlight from a single table lamp in her living room she
looked stricken but utterly healthy.

“Okay, where’s the life or death
emergency?” I peered into her cluttered apartment.

“It’s my dog.”

“Sir Lipton—the wonder dog?”

“Yeah. Well, Lipton’s more of a
wonder than we thought. He’s been acting sick for a while, hanging out in my
closet most of the time. I thought maybe he’d eaten something bad. His stomach
was puffed up—like he had way-bad gas. Anyway, when I came up here after work,
I found four puppies.”

“What? Lipton had puppies? Like
puppies came
out
of him?” I’d never checked out Lipton’s equipment, and
apparently Farrah hadn’t either.

“I guess so, since there are four
baby dogs in the closet and Lipton’s nursing them. Oh, and get this—they all
look an awful lot like Scooter, his b/f/f from down the alley.”

“Do you need me to take them to the
animal shelter at Pu’unene?”

“I called. The nightshift guy said
they don’t accept puppies until they’re at least six weeks old. I can’t keep
them up here. The powers that be don’t even know I’ve got Lipton. And I’m still
getting grief about that Wilbur incident.”

“It was a rat infestation, Farrah.
You were harboring an entire colony of rats in a food store.”

Her mouth bent into a stern frown.

“They weren’t
in
the store,
they were
under
the store. And I didn’t harbor, I just put a few scraps
out now and then. They were out of sight until that
makona
guy from the
Health Department started poking around. Some people keep rats as pets, you
know.”

“You can’t have pets where there’s
food. And besides, those things weren’t pets. They were vermin, from the cane
fields. Those rats cause tons of damage, not to mention all the diseases they
carry.”

She sniffed and pursed her lips in
a tight line. From the looks of things, I was about to be treated to an ‘all
creatures great and small’ speech unless I changed the subject—fast.

“I wish there was something I could
do for Lipton,” I said. “I know how much you love him—or her, or whatever.”

“You could take him and the pups up
to your place,” she said. “It’d just be for a few weeks. I’ll put up flyers at
the store and I’m sure I’ll find every one of them a good home before you know
it.”

“Couple of problems with that.
First, Lipton’s not a ‘him’ anymore, so you need to start saying ‘she.’ I think
bearing offspring is proof positive of female-hood. And second, I can’t have a
litter of puppies in my house. Steve and I are already cramped with Hatch
staying there.”

“What am I supposed to do—drown
them in a bucket? Just come see them. They’re real cute. And besides, we’re
just talking about a few weeks. I bet you and Steve will end up wanting one or
two for yourself.”

She went into the bedroom and I
followed. As she opened her closet door I got a whiff of the unmistakable
ammonia smell of doggie urine.

“Lip’s been inside all day,” she
said. “I’m afraid to let him out in case he hasn’t taken well to motherhood. He
might decide it’s all too much and run off. You know, post-partum depression
and all.”

Sir Lipton whined softly from
inside a cut-down Charmin toilet paper box. Farrah had put down a thick pad of
newspapers on the closet floor and they were soaked through. The dog looked up
to meet my gaze and I could swear she looked apologetic about the mess.

“See what I mean?” Farrah picked
through the stack of furry lumps rooting around Lipton’s underbelly. “Aren’t
they just adorable?”

She held up a brown and white pinto,
with a tiny squinched-up face. There were little slits where its eyes would pop
open in a week or so. Its ears stuck straight up.

“Sir Lipton’s a Jack Russell,
right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “And if Scooter’s
the other dad, then these little guys are half-mini-beagle, half-Jack.”

In other words, manic dog squared.

“I’ll need to run this by Steve and
Hatch first. They may not be all that thrilled about living in a house that
stinks like a dog kennel.”

She handed me the puppy she’d been
holding. It was heavier than I’d expected, its little body giving off a calming
heat. It shoved its back legs against my palm as if trying to nudge itself into
a more comfortable position.

“Pity if I had to start looking
around for a gunny sack,” Farrah said. She picked up a pup the color of a
coconut husk. “And filling up a bucket.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I sure wouldn’t want to, but I’ll
have no choice if I can’t find a place to stash them. If the suits hand me
another health violation it could close me down.”

It always struck me odd that
Hawaiians refer to bureaucrats as ‘suits,’ like you hear on the mainland. I’d
never seen any local government worker, even officials from the governor’s
office, wearing a suit. Men’s business attire is an aloha shirt—untucked—and
khaki pants.

 “Okay, okay. I’ll tell Steve
and Hatch our good deed for the year is Operation Puppy Rescue. Hatch can watch
them during the day, and I’ll put them up in my room at night.”

 “
Mahalo
, Pali. You
won’t be sorry. This’ll bring you tons of good
karma
—trust me.” She put
the two pups back in the box and they burrowed down, seeking milky solace. “I
think the karmic energy is already balancing out. If I hadn’t talked to Kevin
about rescuing us from Tank Sherman we’d have lost our businesses. And if you
hadn’t rescued Lipton’s pups, his family would have drowned.”

There was probably a grain of logic
in there somewhere, but I was too exhausted to hunt for it.

 “Oh, and don’t worry about
dog food,” she went on. “I’ll handle that. The Lipster needs his special food,
and that stuff doesn’t come cheap.”

“I wish you’d stop referring to
Lipton as ‘him.’ It’s definitely a
she
.”

“His name is
Sir
Lipton.
Always was, always will be.”

“Well, then I’d suggest you get
‘him’ spayed.”

“Neutered.”

“Whatever.”

We went downstairs to the store and
Farrah packed up two bags of high priced canned and dry dog food; a package of
pepperoni-style dog treats; and a spray bottle of carpet cleaner formulated
especially for ‘stubborn pet odors.’ I’d seen Sir Lipton in action enough to
know she definitely had her ‘stubborn pet’ moments.

Farrah insisted on accompanying me
back home with the five dogs.

“I need to visualize them safe and
happy, and it’ll be easier if I’m able to be there when they get settled in,”
she said.

We pulled in front of the house and
I didn’t see Steve’s car—not in the driveway, not in the garage.

I carried the puppy box up the
porch steps while Farrah followed, tightly clutching Lipton to her chest.
Farrah kept up a play-by-play of what was happening, whispering to her dog like
an announcer at a golf tournament. “Okay, Lip-Man, we’re here at Pali’s. This
neighborhood’s called Hali’imaile, but it’s only a few miles from home, so
don’t worry. She’s being real nice to take you in for a while, so here’s how
it’s going to go: You be a good boy and stay here for a few weeks and then you
can come back to the store. Meanwhile, I’ll find good homes for your kids. And,
remember, the rules are the same here as at home: no barking, no whining, no
chewing shit up. You got it?”

I set down the box to open the
door, and I looked back to see how Lipton was handling the move. Her doggie
face looked resolute—silently promising to do whatever necessary to keep her
kids alive. Jack Russells are smart, but Lipton’s creepy smart.

Hatch was in his usual spot on the
sofa. The TV was at full volume, booming out a basketball game from the
mainland. Good thing he’d paid me his rent in advance so I’d been able to pay
the cable bill. A sweating beer bottle was etching an indelible ring into my
coffee table.

“Hey, you’re home. Everything
okay?” he said.

I carted the Charmin box into the
living room.

“Oh, hello,” he said when he saw
Farrah behind me. “I wish I could act like a gentleman and stand up, but I’m
afraid I’m kind of gimped-up.” He pulled the blanket from his legs to display
the heavy cast.

“No, no, stay comfortable,” said
Farrah. “I’m just dropping off my guys.” She gave Lipton a quick peck on the
top of the head.

“Puppies,” I said. I put the box
down on the floor so Hatch could see them. “I hope you’re not allergic or
anything.”

“No, not at all. Wow, they’re real
tiny—and cute.”

“I’m Farrah, by the way,” she said
extending her right hand while trying to contain a squirming Lipton in her
left.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have
introduced you.”

Farrah stared at Hatch’s face as if
memorizing it for a police sketch artist. I wondered if he felt as
uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny as I did.

“Good to meet you. I’m Hatch
Decker. I’m the first refugee Pali took in this week, but it sounds like I’m
not the last.” He smiled and put a hand into the box and lightly stroked one of
the pups.

“They’ll only be here until they’re
old enough to get adopted,” I said. “Probably a month. Six weeks at the most.”

“Great. It’ll be good to have
company when you and Steve aren’t around.”

At that point Lipton’s patience
wore out. She yelped and twisted out of Farrah’s grasp, landing with a thump on
Hatch.

“Sorry,” said Farrah. “He’s had a
tough day. He’s never had puppies before.”

“This is the puppies’ sire?” Hatch
said, dodging his head to catch a glimpse of Lipton’s underside.

“No,” I said. “Lipton’s a female.
She’s the pups’ mother, but Farrah always thought Lipton was male, so it’s been
hard for her to make the switch.”

“His name is
Sir
Lipton,”
said Farrah, as if that explained everything.

“Does he pee squatting down or—”
Hatch said.

“I’ve really got to get going. Come
outside with me, Pali. I need to talk to you about Sir Lipton’s
schedule.” 

Farrah and Hatch exchanged goodbyes
and we went out onto the porch. Once the door closed, she dropped her jaw, put
both hands on her cheeks, and wagged her head as if she’d just caught a glimpse
of a naked Brad Pitt.

“Oh-my-Gawd,” she mouthed. She
leaned in and whispered, even though it was completely unnecessary with the
door shut, “That guy is
so
gorgeous. And he is not, not, no-way-in-hell
gay. Auras don’t lie.”

“Farrah, we all see what we want to
see, but Hatch is—”

“Shut up. Really, I mean it. Shut
up
.
That guy is totally smashed by you. And I should know. I read auras like most
people read the newspaper, and I’m telling you, Hatch Decker is stick
straight.”

“Your vote is duly noted. But
remember, he’s Steve’s friend and—”

She pushed past me and went back
inside.

“Can I ask you a question?” she
said to Hatch.

He picked up the remote and muted
the TV. “Sure, fire away.”