Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) (19 page)

 

 

 

CHAPTER 24

 

I
n
a martial arts competition, when an opponent makes an aggressive move it’s
crucial to respond immediately. Getting psyched out or waiting for the ideal
set-up for a counter-attack is a formula for failure. I vowed to react quickly
to Barker’s challenge.

I turned left at the Honoapi’ilani
Highway and headed down to Olu’olu. Although I had no doubt Glen Wong was a
competent detecti
v
e, I was baffled why Lisa Marie hadn’t been taken into
custody. After all, they had a videotape of her fighting with the murder victim
the night he died. What were they waiting for?

The security guard opened the gate
with little harassment. Maybe I was finally making an impression on the guy.
This time I parked in a different spot—on the other side of the driveway,
closer to the entrance than the exit. Although it’s comfortable to stick with
the familiar, I think a different perspective is essential to staying sharp.
Even in wedding planning, what’s hot one minute is often tossed aside the next.
I’ve got six boxes of Chinese red parasols in my attic to prove my point. Last
summer, every bridesmaid on Maui was twirling a flashy paper umbrella. Now,
they’re so passé only old ladies worried about skin cancer would be caught dead
holding one.

Josie answered the door.

“Is Lisa Marie at home?” I said.

She led me to the lanai. Before
opening the outside door she said, “Mr. Prescott is only one you can talk to.
Miss Lisa Marie not talk to anyone.”

But we’re such good friends
.

Marv sat at a table hiding behind a
well-creased copy of the Wall Street Journal. He lowered the paper a few inches
and peered over it when Josie announced me, then quickly put it back up.

I stood and waited, my blood
pressure ticking up with each passing second. I wouldn’t have made a good dog.
If I’d had an owner like Marv, I’d have been more likely to bite his ankle than
fetch his slippers.

“If you’re here about getting paid,
the answer’s still
no
Ms. Moon.” He kept the newspaper in place, as if
looking at me was as burdensome as paying me. “No wedding, so no check.”

“Our arrangement was Lisa Marie
would pay for half the expenses and Brad Sanders’ company would pay the other
half. I’ve already received a check from DigiSystems even though Brad never got
as much as a boutonnière. On Lisa Marie’s instructions, my suppliers purchased
paper and printing, cake ingredients, and expensive fabric. We flew in special
flowers from South America, and I had little Girl Scouts working for days
making origami cranes. Hours and hours of labor were spent getting ready for
your daughter’s wedding. It isn’t their fault it didn’t happen.”

“Let’s be clear, Ms. Moon. We
received absolutely no value for the services you’ve described, so I don’t feel
any obligation to pay for them.”

“I see. Well, my visit this morning
is twofold. The first was to ask you once again to step up and pay your
outstanding bill. The second is I need a few minutes with Lisa Marie.”

“Why?”

“It’s personal.”

“There’s nothing so personal it wouldn’t
affect me as well. If you want access to my daughter, you’ll have to convince
me it’s in her best interest.”

“As you’re aware, there’s
speculation she’s a person of interest in Kevin McGillvary’s death—” I didn’t
get a chance to finish before he launched out of his chair with such force I
had to step back to avoid a collision.

Snapping the newspaper in my face
like a bullwhip, he roared, “Lies! That poor girl spent what was supposed to be
her wedding day locked in her room crying her eyes out. And then the cops show
up again this morning to interrogate her. This has got to stop!”

His face crumpled.

“She doesn’t need to be hassled,
she needs help. Can’t everyone see she’s sick? She rambled on about Brad coming
back, and then when Kevin died she just lost it. The cops are using her
unstable mental state to extort a phony confession.”

“Has she confessed?” He was
right—Lisa Marie wouldn’t be hard to break down. Even on her best days she
struggled to separate fact from fiction.

“Not that I know of. But now her
lawyer, Joseph Koko-something—”

“His name’s James Kanekoa,” I
interrupted.

“Do you know
everyone
on
this lousy rock? Anyway, even her lawyer’s telling us she should consider a
plea bargain.”

“Maybe she should.”

“No, no. I’m a thousand-percent
certain she had nothing to do with any of this.”

“Marv, I need to tell you to
something that might affect Lisa Marie’s decision about the plea bargain.”

“What’s that?”

“The executives at DigiSystems are
offering a reward for information leading to an arrest for Brad and Kevin’s
deaths. And they’re convinced Lisa Marie was somehow involved.” I didn’t bring
up Todd Barker’s name figuring if Barker ended up a floater, it’d be on my
head. 

“What? Those bastards. What are
they thinking?”

“It seems they think it had
something to do with gaining control of the company. Since you gave your shares
to Lisa Marie, they’re thinking she had a motive.” 

Marv’s eyes dodged left and right,
as if assessing whether anyone else was within earshot. I hoped he’d offer a
plausible explanation, or maybe deny he’d ever transferred any stock to Lisa
Marie. He leaned in closer.

“Do the cops know about this?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, it’s all bullshit. I gave
Lisa Marie the stock as a small dowry. Brad seemed pretty pleased with the
whole notion. But it was never a big deal to Lisa Marie. She’s a pretty girl,
but not the sharpest thorn on the bush, if you get my drift. Besides, she’s
already sole heir to my business, RRI—which is a damn site bigger than Brad’s
little sandbox. Money’s the least of her worries.”

Marv’s mouth was still moving, but
I’d stopped listening. I’d already taken in too much information for one
morning. 

“…we talking about?” His mouth
clamped shut and his eyes locked on mine. 

“I’m sorry, Marv. I drifted there
for a moment.”

“I said, those assholes at
DigiSystems are nearly bankrupt as it is. What kind of reward are they talking
about?”

“Five thousand dollars.”

“Hell,” he said, “I should be
insulted. A cheap bunch of SOB’s from the get-go. Tell you what, Ms. Moon: I find
you annoying, but I respect your persistence. You help me get my daughter off
the hook and I’ll double it.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 25

 

T
he
ride back home was remarkably uneventful. Good thing, because I spent the better
part of it locked in a mental fistfight with myself. I’d throw a punch for
nailing Lisa Marie for being some kind of serial killer, and then I’d
counterpunch she was simply an easy scapegoat and had undoubtedly been framed.

Todd Barker and Marv Prescott were
both right about one thing:  I knew a lot of local people. Even better, I
could fly under the radar while I snooped around. But why was I even thinking
of getting involved?  Maybe it was to prove Todd Barker wrong about Hawaii
being a corrupt backwater. Maybe it was simply to collect the reward money and
pay my bills. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was a chance to quash
the nagging feeling I’d had since they’d ID’d Kevin. Simply put, I’d failed
him. Failure had been dogging me ever since I left the air marshal job. The
government invested thousands of dollars training me and I up and quit after
less than a year. How lame was that? 

When I pulled in at the house,
Hatch was sitting on the porch playing tug-of-war with Lipton. Hatch and I still
hadn’t cleared the air about the redhead sleepover and Valentine’s Day debacle,
but neither of us seemed eager to bring it up.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, yourself,” he said. “I’ve got
some news.” He dropped his end of the rope and Lipton started chewing it like a
two-dollar steak. 

 “Not as juicy as my news,” I
said.

He looked annoyed.

“You go first,” I offered.

“Guess who showed up here about a
half hour ago?”

“No clue.”

“That jerk you told me about—Toilet
Tank or whatever.”

“Tank Sherman?”

“I guess. He had some
snarky-looking real estate guy with him. They snooped around the yard, but I
wouldn’t let them go inside. He said he’d see you later this afternoon.”

“Yeah, he thinks he’s buying me out
today. But I’ve got a line on something that—if it works out—could pay me
almost enough to save this house and keep “Let’s Get Maui’d” out of his chubby
clutches.”

“You sign up a big wedding? Who is
it—one of those Google guys?”

“Not a wedding. An investigation.
There’s a reward being offered to find out who killed Brad Sanders and Kevin
McGillvary. I just need to dig up enough evidence for an arrest.”

“Hate to break it to you, but
somebody’s already got that job.”

“But the police are only focusing
on Lisa Marie.”

“For now.” He patted his thigh and
Lipton jumped in his lap. “These things take time.”

“The police don’t have time. While
Wong’s busy hassling loony-tunes Lisa Marie, the actual killer could be
hot-footing it back to the mainland.”

 “
The actual killer
?
 You think Lisa Marie’s innocent?”

“Who knows? I can think of at least
three other suspects who ought to be brought in for questioning.”

“Listen to you. You’ve been
watching too much ‘Law & Order.’ No offense, but what makes you think you
can out-cop the cops?”

“Because I grew up here. I know
locals in every corner of this island—from the governor’s office to the guy who
scrubs toilets at the Maui Prince. I can ask questions and get answers without
people clamming up. And even better, I sleep under the same roof as a guy who
was a cop and still thinks like one.”

I shot him a hopeful look.

His face turned to stone. “I don’t
do that anymore.”

“Why not?” I said.

His face didn’t soften. “Look,
you’re way out of your league here. Leave it to the professionals.”

I went inside and made myself a
sandwich. I scrounged a warped yellow pad from the kitchen junk drawer and
while I ate, I jotted down what I knew so far.

“The homicide guys make murder
books,” Hatch said when he came in and saw what I was doing. He sat down at the
table. “You know, investigations are complex. There are a million details
you’ve got to keep organized.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, my
friend. I put on weddings for women who swear a misplaced bow or the wrong
shade of pink ranks right up there with a flesh-eating virus. Trust me, I’m all
about the details.”

 “What’s the deal with the
reward money?”

 I explained how Todd Barker
had offered five thousand dollars and Marv had countered he’d double it if I’d
prove Lisa Marie was innocent.

“That’s what he said?”

I thought about it. “No, his words
were he’d pay me double if I’d help ‘get his daughter off the hook’.”

“See? Details. World of difference
between innocence and getting away with it.” He looked at his watch. “I gotta
go get ready for physical therapy. Like I said, stay out of this. This isn’t a
game.” 

 After Hatch left I looked
over my notes. I’d listed my possible suspects, starting with Lisa Marie. I
included Marv, but I couldn’t come up with a solid motive. Marv could most
definitely be part of a cover-up, though. The third name was Tank Sherman
because of the real estate deal. Finally, I’d written ‘Takeover Company,’ since
Barker had mentioned that losing the two DigiSystems founders had hammered the
stock price. Anyone looking to buy the company had good reason to do whatever
it took to get a rock bottom price.

I looked up at the kitchen clock.
It was noon—only four hours until Tank was supposed to show up. Before then, I
wanted to talk to Todd Barker. I called and he agreed to see me at one-thirty.

***

As I trotted through the lush
tropical lobby of the Royal Crown Kamehameha, I picked out Barker sitting at
the same table he’d been at that morning. Was it a fluke or had he slipped the
maitre d’ a ten spot to let him camp out there for the day? Hard to know. The
guy definitely had comfort zone issues.

“I hope you’re bringing me a signed
confession.” He pointed to my beach bag purse.

“Hardly,” I said. “I need to ask
you a few questions about DigiSystems.”

“I’m not at liberty to say much.”

“Why?”

“I told you, there’s a possible
takeover in play. We’re practically strip-searching our employees as they leave
from work every day. Total confidentiality.”

 “Okay, well tell me what you
can about Lisa Marie getting Marv’s stock.”

“That’s no secret. Marv signed it
over to her late last year. She got a pretty large chunk, but she didn’t attend
the stockholders’ meeting last month. Probably trying to maintain a low profile
while she plotted her massacre. ”

“Can you tell me how much Marv’s
original investment was?”

“Can’t divulge that.”

 “Do you think Brad and Kevin
wanted to sell the company?”

“I don’t know. But with the price
climbing, it had to be tempting. But neither one of them ever talked to me
about it.”

“Can you give me the name of the
possible takeover company?”

“No comment.”

“How am I supposed to help you if
you won’t tell me anything?” I said.

He put two fingers on his neck as
if taking his pulse on his carotid artery. “Look, Miss Moon, I’m not trying to
stonewall you. I’m fighting for my livelihood here.”

“So am I, Todd.”

I check the time on my cell phone.
Tank Sherman would be at my shop in less than two hours.

“I’ve got to go,” I said. “If you
think of anything you
can
tell me, please call me at home or on my cell.
My business line’s been disconnected.”

 

 

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