Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) (11 page)

CHAPTER 13

I
t
was way past my bedtime when Farrah and I got back in the car. On the way down
to her apartment she talked about Hatch’s evasive response.

“He’s not gay, but he’s definitely
hiding something. What do you think it could be?”

“I think he doesn’t want to get
involved with someone he lives with. Seems reasonable.”

“No it isn’t! You two are perfect
for each other.”

 I snapped on the radio. She
took the hint.

Baldwin Avenue was quiet and dark.
Even so, as we neared the Gadda-da-Vida, it was impossible not to see the
boxcar-sized Hummer parked directly in front.

“Oh no,” said Farrah. “With all the
jiggy over Lipton’s pups, I forgot I asked Kevin if he wanted to get a drink
with me down at Cisco’s. You know, to toast him buying our building. You can
come too, Pali.” My car was dark as a cave, but her voice gave away her blush.

“Come on, we’re all adults here.
Besides, didn’t you already admit to having carnal knowledge of the guy in a
previous life?”

Kevin opened his driver door and
slid a long leg down from the bulky vehicle. I tried to catch his expression,
but the dim eco-friendly street lights barely gave off enough light to see a
hand in front of your face. He sauntered over to Farrah’s side of the car.

“Evenin’ ladies,” he said, leaning
into the open window. “I hope you didn’t start without me.”

“I’m sorry, Kev,” Farrah said. “I
was really looking forward to seeing you tonight, but my dog had puppies, and I
had to take them up to Pali’s ‘cuz I can’t have animals at the store, and when
I got there I needed to help her find out if her new roommate is gay and then—”

“Hey, no harm, no foul. Maybe
another time?”

Farrah popped the passenger-side
door open so fast Kevin had to hop out of the way to avoid getting hit. They
huddled together, talking in low voices I couldn’t hear. I was about to beep
the horn and tell them I was leaving when Farrah ducked her head back in. “I’ll
call tomorrow to check on Sir Lipton, okay? He’s never been away from me
overnight.”

I was about to shriek it was high
time to stop referring to Lipton as male, but held off. I needed sleep way more
than I needed to win an argument.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll catch you
then.”

As I pulled away I sneaked a glance
in the rearview mirror. They still hadn’t climbed into the Hummer for the ride
down to Cisco’s. I wondered if more than a drink was on tap for the evening.
None of my business, I told myself sharply. It’d been a long day and I had four
bridal fittings in the morning. All I cared about was getting my weary bones
back up the hill and into bed.

***

Early Tuesday morning Steve
suggested we all go out to breakfast to celebrate Hatch’s newfound freedom. Now
that he could use his crutches his doctor had encouraged him to get out of the
house and get some exercise. 

“I’m looking at a pretty steep
slope to get back to my fighting weight,” said Hatch. “This laying around
eating fancy food has turned me soft.”

I wasn’t sure what
soft
meant
to a firefighter, but from where I was sitting, there wasn’t a soft spot in
sight. Steve and I exchanged a quick sideways glance. Seems the vote was two to
one.

The guys coaxed me to join
them—Hatch even offered to pay—but I begged off. Lisa Marie and the bridesmaids
were coming in at eleven and I needed to make sure everything was ready. As
much as I’d tried to deny it, Kevin’s dire warnings about the consequences of
messing up Lisa Marie’s wedding had made an impression.

At ten I started down the hill to my
shop. I pulled into the alley and went in through the back door. I had the
coffee set up and was putting out fresh potpourri when it hit me: I hadn’t
called Kevin with the lawyer’s name. I dug James Kanekoa’s card out of my purse
and called Kevin’s cell but it went to voicemail.

At ten minutes to eleven, I opened
the front door to let in a little fresh air. Kevin’s black Hummer was still
parked in front of Farrah’s. A minute later, a bright red Porsche roared up Baldwin
and pulled into the last remaining spot on my side of the road, about a
half-block down from the Hummer. Lisa Marie climbed out of the passenger side
and the shiny sports car backed up and took off. I didn’t have a chance to
ponder how the bridesmaids were going to find my shop before Akiko’s
smoke-belching minivan chugged into sight and pulled into the spot vacated by
the Porsche.

 “You better have my coffee
ready,” Lisa Marie shouted as she walked toward me. Then she spotted the
Hummer. She slowed her gait.

“I guess Kevin showed up after
all,” she said pushing past me and going inside. “I called him this morning to
bring me but he didn’t answer.”

My lips clamped shut as my brain
marshaled its forces. I followed her in.

“Ke-
vin
,” she called out. “I
know you’re in here.” I watched as she parted the bead curtain and peered into
the fitting area.

“Okay,” she said. “Very funny,
Pali. Where are you hiding him?”

I shrugged. A feeble response, I
know, but it beat out faking a coughing fit.  

“Wait a minute,” she said. I
watched clouds building behind her eyes. “He’s next door, isn’t he? He’s with
that fat hippie who’s supposed to be doing my flowers. He’s…” She
straight-armed me and was back out the door before I could block her exit.

By this time Akiko had wrestled the
bulky garment bag from the back of her van and had come up to the shop.

“Problem?” she said. We both
watched as Lisa Marie banged through the door of the Gadda-da-Vida.

“She probably wants cream for her
coffee,” I said.

Lisa Marie was gone about five
minutes. While we waited, I heard muffled shouting coming through the old plank
walls. It was hard to tell who was doing the yelling or what was being said,
but there were no pauses. Just a constant stream of hollering and screeching in
the dulcimer tones of a cat fight. I could just imagine Kevin safely tucked in
a corner watching the spectacle with a bemused look on his face.

About a half-minute after the
racket died down, Lisa Marie slammed through my door, cheeks on fire.

“Akiko’s here with your gown, and
I’m so excited to see you in it,” I said, determined to get Lisa Marie back on
task. Later, Farrah would debrief me on the battle and I felt no obligation to
give equal time to the opposition.

Akiko hoisted the ivory satin
garment bag and nodded toward Lisa Marie. Then she silently carried it back
into the fitting room.

Lisa Marie stood motionless by the
door.

“Are you ready to get started?” I
said.

“Fabulous,” said Lisa Marie. “I’m
having the very worst day of my entire life and all you and that ugly little
woman care about is sticking me with pins. To hell with it—all of it!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But is this
really the worst day of your life?” I wanted to point out the obvious—like
maybe the day her fiancé disappeared might be a contender, or how about the day
the Coast Guard gave up looking?—but I knew saying anything would most likely
bring the f-word into play.

“The
absolute
worst. First
of all, last night my dad pissed off one of the bridesmaids. This morning, I
found out all three of them just up and left—back to Hooters or wherever they
came from. And then I find out Kevin—who’s supposed to be marrying me in
two
days
—has been doing God-knows-what with my florist. And then, to top it all
off, I just found out she’s
also
the person you forced me to use for the
ceremony.”

Long ago I learned silence is the
better part of valor so I did my best to look shocked. I even put a hand to my
mouth in a mock display of concern. I’ll never be the actor Steve claims to be,
but I like to give it a shot now and then.

“Now what?” Lisa Marie spit out.
“Everything’s ruined. And it’s all your fault because you promised me a perfect
wedding and instead I’ve got a cheating groom, no bridesmaids, and a hippie
‘ho’ for a minister.”

Okay, I needed the money—bad. But
Lisa Marie had crossed a line. I took a deep breath.

“Listen, Lisa Marie, you’re not
really marrying Kevin. He’s just the stand-in guy for Brad. So Farrah and Kevin
aren’t doing anything wrong. I think you need to get a grip and calm down.”

She plopped onto the sofa and
crossed her arms tight across her bony chest. I waited for tears, but she just
sat there—huffing and puffing as if she’d run a mile.

“Kevin owes me some respect. He
owes
me—big time.”

Before I could ask, she started up
again.

 “And what’ll I do about
bridesmaids? They were supposed to hold my bouquet while I take my vows. Now
where the hell am I supposed to put it?”

For once I had a really snappy
comeback right on the tip of my tongue. Sadly, it was a luxury I couldn’t
afford.

“What about your stepmom?” I said.
“It’d be a nice gesture to ask Tina to be your matron of honor.”

The look on Lisa Marie’s face
was—as they say in the credit card commercial—priceless.  

“I’d rather eat rusted glass.”

“Okay then, don’t worry. I’ll find
some replacements.”

“Not ugly ones,” Lisa Marie said.
She seemed to be regaining her composure. “But not too gorgeous, either. Just
kind of regular.”

“Got it. Regular girls.” I let a
heartbeat or two of quiet pass before plunging into dark water. “And about
Farrah. If you’re uncomfortable with her doing the flowers or conducting the
ceremony, just say so. I can find someone else for that too.”

“Oh no, I want her there, front and
center. That Ferret bitch will find out what happens to people who mess with
me.” She flashed me a flinty smile. “I’m not Marv Prescott’s daughter for
nothing.”

CHAPTER 14

I
woke
up on Wednesday—rehearsal day—with only one thing on my mind: in forty-eight
hours it’d all be over. The fancy rehearsal dinner, the phony proxy ceremony,
even sweating the evening news every night worried they’d report on body parts
washing ashore. In two days my surly bride and her creepy family would be
winging their way back to the mainland and I’d be trotting down to my bank. I’d
coordinated some rather dubious nuptials in the past, but this dead man’s sham
was hands-down the worst.

By now I was on
autopilot—everything had been checked and rechecked. I maintained my composure
by focusing on how good it was going to feel to make that hefty deposit into my
bone-dry checking account. Equally sweet was anticipating Tank Sherman’s fury
when he learned Kevin had outbid him for our building. I could get a smile
going just imagining waving away Tank’s measly five grand and showing him the
door. Kevin had promised he’d renew my lease at the same rent or maybe even a
bit less because we were
hoa aloha
—friends. Ol’ Kev seemed to be plowing
headlong into ‘going native.’ He’d quizzed Farrah on the local lingo and was
tossing around
mahalo
and
da kine
as if he’d been born under a
palm tree. I figured six months, tops, before he’d claim to be
kama’aina
—the
word we use for native-born Hawaiians.  

I’d managed to line up two bridal
attendants for Lisa Marie. They were Maui Community College students who’d worked
with Steve on a photo shoot. Each was a perfect size four, the same size as the
powder blue silk dresses Lisa Marie had ordered for the previous bridesmaids.
As payment for attending the ceremony I told them they could keep the expensive
dresses—no charge. Since neither girl had a car I also threw in private limo
transportation to and from Olu’olu for both the rehearsal and the wedding
ceremony. When they inquired about a rehearsal dinner, I threw that in too. Who
knew size fours even cared about dinner?

I stepped into the shower that
morning feeling pretty darn pleased with myself. But two pesky things still
prickled. First, since I hadn’t heard anything from Kevin about the legal
ramifications of the proxy marriage I wondered if he’d called the lawyer.
Hopefully he had and hopefully James Kanekoa would have called me if proxy
marriage was against the law. And second, I still hadn’t figured out why Lisa
Marie was so irate over Farrah’s budding relationship with Kevin. Was Tina
right? Were Lisa Marie and Kevin more of a couple than they let on? Or was Lisa
Marie just pouting over another woman garnering his attention?

I warned Farrah that Lisa Marie was
gunning for her, but she laughed it off. 

“What’s she gonna do? Cold cock me
with her bouquet?”

“She can get pretty scary.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m going to be in and
outta there pretty fast.
Do you take this woman, yada yada. Do you take this
man, blah, blah, blah. I pronounce you
…and I’m gone, baby, gone. Don’t
worry, Pali. She’s probably just entering the anger phase of her grieving
process. Once she moves on to the bargaining phase she’ll mellow out.”

“I don’t know. She made a pretty
solid point about being her father’s daughter. And her father’s certainly not
someone I’d mess with.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve found bullies are
mostly just little kids afraid of the dark. Watch me, I’m going to kill her
with kindness. Works every time.”

I’d let her have the last word on
that one.

***

I got out of bed and was on a quest
for coffee when I ran into Steve. He’d planned to get in a couple of hours of
windsurfing at Ho’okipa Beach before going to work. After he left I considered
a quick trip to Palace of Pain, but decided I’d wait until the health
inspector’s sign was on the door. I told myself blowing off my workout was noble,
since I didn’t want to get Sifu Doug in trouble, but that wasn’t it. I had an
entire free morning to spend with Hatch. I showered, carefully shaved my legs,
and blew my hair dry to fluff it up.

I pushed through the kitchen door.
Hatch had
The Maui News
spread out in front of him, but he looked up
when I came in.

“You’re looking chipper this
morning,” he said.  

“Today’s the wedding rehearsal,” I
said. “On my list of favorite days this month, it’s coming in a strong number
two.”

“And number one was when I showed
up, right?”

I eyed him warily.

“So, what’s your story, Hatch?” I
said. I pulled down a box of cold cereal and poured some in a bowl. I held it
up as an offering and he nodded. I took out another bowl and filled it for myself.
“I gave you the sad facts of my life the other day. Then you sidestepped Farrah
when she tried to give you the third degree. What’s up?”

“Nothing’s
up
. My life’s
pretty boring, really. I was born in San Francisco. My folks divorced when I
was eight and my mom moved us to LA a year later. When I graduated from UCLA I
came to Honolulu to surf and I never left. A buddy talked me into going to the
police academy—”

“You mean the
fire
academy.”

“No, the police academy. I was a
cop for seven years before I figured out firefighters were the heroes. Cops
were ‘Barneys,’ ‘the fuzz, or ‘bacon.’ Firefighters rescue little kids and get
their picture in the paper. I was pulling drunks off the road and getting my
shoes barfed on.”

“Bacon?”

“Yeah, you know, like pigs.”

“Oh.” To me the jobs were equally
important, but I could see how a guy might rather be Superman than Batman.

“But when I quit the force to start
my EMT training, it meant the end of some pretty tight friendships.”

“Your friends dumped you for
wanting a different job?”

 “Big time. Cops and
firefighters have a grudging respect. But it’s a loyalty thing to stick with
the one that’s brung ya. I could have left for a million reasons and stayed
friends with everybody, but leaving for the other team was not okay. I became
the jerk—the traitor. My cop buddies pretty much tore up my dance card.”

 “Whoa, harsh.”

“Yeah, it was tough. I’d known
those guys since the academy. For seven years, we had each other’s backs.”

“How about your personal life?” I
mentally patted myself on the back for the smooth transition.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how did people other than
your co-workers react to you leaving?” Not so smooth.

“Being a cop was pretty much my
whole life. Made it pretty easy to move over here to Maui Fire when I got the
chance.”  

Not exactly what I was fishing for,
but it’d have to do. “Well, I better get down to my shop. Like I said, today’s
the rehearsal, tomorrow the big day and then it’s all over. You okay watching
the pups?”

“Sure. I like having them here. I’m
good with kids and animals. I always figured I’d be a dad by twenty-five. Just
didn’t happen, you know?”

And it’s never gonna happen at the
rate you’re going.

I brought the puppy box downstairs
after cleaning up the mess in my room. Lipton had been diligent about using the
doggie potty I’d made out of old towels, but still the entire second floor
reeked of
eau de dog pee
.

On my way to the shop, I stopped
off at the printer’s and picked up Lisa Marie’s wedding announcements. It was
disturbing to read “Bradley James Sanders” listed as her new husband. 

“I get paid this Friday,” I said to
the printer. “Okay if I come back next week and settle up?”

“No problem. Boy, this weather’s
been brutal. I’ve only had two wedding jobs in the past month.”

“Yeah, but it’s getting better. If
we can just hang on until March, things are bound to pick up.”

“From your lips to God’s ear,” he
said. “Wedding stuff is generally more than half my business.”

I was unlocking my shop door when my
cell chimed. I dug out the phone and checked the caller ID. It was Steve.

“Pali, I’m glad I caught you. I’m
afraid I’ve got some really harsh news.” He paused. “You sitting down?”

 “What is it?” I said. I
wasn’t in the mood for his dramatics and I didn’t need to be sitting down. You
know how sometimes you just know stuff?

Well, I knew. I’d been bracing for
that phone call for more than a week.