Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) (9 page)

CHAPTER 10

T
he
back door at Palace of Pain was propped open. It was too early for lessons, but
Sifu Doug encourages students to come in and practice so he’s often there
before lunchtime.

I entered the dimly lit room and a
sharp odor caught in my throat. My
sifu
was on his hands and knees,
swiping a wet rag across the worn blue mats. When he sat up to wring out the
rag in a plastic bucket, I bowed and we made eye contact.

“What’s going on?” I waved my hand
in front of my face. “What stinks?”

“It’s the smell of the new plague,”
Doug said. “The Health Department called this morning. A high school kid’s come
down with MRSA and they traced the it back to a karate school in Lahaina.
They’ve closed everyone down. Everything in here’s got to be disinfected, and I
need to get it checked out before I can open back up again.”

“Mersa?”

“Yeah, it stands for…” He pulled
out a pink ‘While You Were Out’ note from his pocket and handed it to me. On
the message line it read,
Methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus
(MRSA).

“It’s real contagious,” he said.
“If you get it, it’s a bitch because they can’t knock it down with normal
antibiotics. It’s killed people—mostly athletes and people in their families.”

“So the
guan
’s closed?”

“Technically. But if you’ll help me
spread this stuff around I’ll let you stay and work out for a while.”

The acrid fumes were making my eyes
water, but I couldn’t disrespect my
sifu
by not helping when asked.

“Sure, I’ve got some time.”

Doug pulled a second rag from the
bucket, twisted it out, and threw it to me.

“Start on that wall over there by
the door. I’m almost done with the mats. Once we’ve wiped down all the walls
and scrubbed out the bathrooms we’re done.”

“When’s the inspector coming?”

“I got on the list today, but who knows?
They’ve got more’n two dozen places to look at, so it could be tomorrow, could
be a week from now. The lady at the health department clued me in that checking
martial arts schools wasn’t a big priority. They’re gonna clear the high
schools and community centers first.”

“What about your classes?”

“No classes, no practice, nothin’
until I get a signed release taped to the door.”

Sifu Doug is a hero to me. He holds
a fourth level black belt in Korean kung fu as well as advanced belts in both
karate and judo. One hundred sixty pounds of lean muscle, with a face like an
Army Ranger, all sharp angles and close-cropped hair. I’d come to Palace of
Pain expecting him to kick my ass while asserting his superiority over the
lowly brown belt I’d earned while in college on O’ahu. Instead, he welcomed me
like
ohana
—like family. He’s a big believer in mind over matter, and he
claims success is simply the result of maintaining a right attitude and acting
on it. If he’s ever had doubts about me he’s never shown them. At times, living
up to his expectations is more intimidating than any opponent I’ve ever faced.
But without him, I doubt I ever would have earned that black sash.

We finished wiping everything down
and Doug looked up at the clock.

“Gettin’ late. I promised Lani I’d
pick the kids up at school. Today’s one of those short days for them. You okay
with me leaving the windows and doors open and you close it all up when you
go?”

“No problem. I really just came
down here to burn off a little steam. I’ll be heading out soon myself.”

“Hey, I appreciate your help.” He
clapped me on the shoulder. I gave him a short bow in return.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said.
“Isn’t one of your brothers a lawyer?”

“Yeah, James. He’s got his own
office now. Used to work in the prosecutor’s office.”

“Could you give me his number? I’ve
got a client with a legal question.”

I waited while Doug went in the
back. He returned and handed me a business card. “Tell your client to use my
name and ask James for a discount.”

“
Mahalo
.”

“
Da kine
. Don’t forget to
lock up.”

I stuck around for another ten
minutes, but gave up when my throbbing head put me on notice that if I didn’t
get some fresh air I’d be popping aspirin the rest of the afternoon.

I couldn’t go home, though. I still
had to go over the wedding details with Farrah. When I pulled up at
Gadda-da-Vida there were three open parking spaces right out front.

Farrah had a pile of coins in front
of her. She’d already made up about a half-dozen rolls, but from the looks of
the pile, she wasn’t even halfway done.

“You able to talk?” I said.

“Yep. It’s been slow since you
left. That family ended up buying both boogie boards—the blue
and
the
yellow. Why do parents think throwing money at their kids is a good substitute
for discipline? No wonder
keiki
are so annoying.” She gestured for me to
join her behind the counter. “Hey, speaking of annoying, how’s it going with
the new roommate?”

“It’s not bad. His name’s Hatch
Decker and he’s a fireman. Got hit by a truck and broke his leg.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. He’s gonna be laid up for a
month.”

She squinted at me. “You’re
blushing.”

“I’m not. I just got back from
working out. I’m hot.”

“Okay, maybe you’re hot, but it’s
not from working out. C’mon, spill about the hunky fireman.”

 I broke eye contact.  

 “Not really much to say.
Hatch seems like a great guy.” I hesitated, and she nodded, encouraging me to
get to the ‘but
’
she knew was coming. “But, I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

“Really? He came right out and
said, ‘Nice to meet you--I’m gay’?”

I thought about it for a moment.
“Not exactly, but it sort of adds up. He said he transferred over here from
Honolulu because he was being hassled by the guys at work. Seems the guys at
Maui Fire are more open-minded because a couple of them came over to see him
yesterday and I overheard them asking if he’d told me some big secret. Not only
that, he’s a friend of Steve’s and almost all of Steve’s friends are gay.”

“I’m not gay,” she said.

“No, but you’re not exactly a bosom
buddy of his.”

She did a little shimmy which sent
her generous breasts in motion. “Hey,” she said. “I got the bosom. And he’s my
buddy.”  

“You know what I mean.”

“So, has Steve ever talked about
Hatch before?” she said.

“No.”

“Well, there you go. They probably
aren’t bosom buddies either.”

Farrah loved to have the last word.
I’d already grudgingly accepted Hatch’s gender preference, so I wasn’t going to
argue. Besides, it pained me to dwell on it.

“Before another customer comes in
let’s get this wedding stuff wrapped up,” I said.

“Good, I’m tired of counting.” She
swept the coins into a coffee can and put the can under the counter.

 We went over the logistics of
the ceremony. It promised to be a quick one, since Lisa Marie had ordered
Farrah to keep it to basic vows and skip the sermon about the sanctity of holy
matrimony.

Next, we sketched out the flower
placement. Farrah was still smarting over Lisa Marie going around her to get
the tuberoses she wanted. I’d received a chilly call from Marv’s executive
assistant who’d sniffed she’d taken time from her
busy
work day to track
down the flowers online. They were being flown in from South America, and ‘my
florist’ needed to make arrangements to pick them up
promptly
when they
arrived at the airport on Thursday morning.

“With the currency exchange and
overnight freight charges those things are gonna cost hundreds of dollars,”
Farrah said.

“I know,” I said. “Let it go,
okay?”

“And it’s going to be a huge hassle
for me. I’ll have to make a special trip to the cargo terminal at Kahului to
get them. And then, I’ll have to cram them into the bridal bouquet at the very
last minute. I’m going to get everything prepared ahead of time on Wednesday. I
usually make up my bouquets on the morning of the wedding, but with Thursday
being Valentine’s I’ll be too pushed to get it all done. You know, I’ve got
regular customers who ordered flowers
weeks
ago and it’s not fair to—.”

“No problem,” I said. “A day early
will be fine.”

“If those tuberoses come in when
they’re supposed to, I should have everything ready to go by three o’clock.
It’ll be
pupule
around here, with Valentine’s and all, but I’m planning
to arrive an hour before the ceremony.”

“And you know where Olu’olu is,
right?”

“Well, duh. If the mafia dude who
built that monstrosity on sacred ground was looking for privacy, he sure picked
a lousy spot. It’s like a ginormous zit on a bully’s nose. Everybody sees it,
but nobody’s stupid enough to say anything.”

***

I was nearly through my to-do list,
but I had one last stop to make before calling it a day. I pulled into Olu’olu
a few minutes after five. I hoped I wouldn’t be interrupting the Prescott’s
dinner. Since Hawaii time is three hours earlier than even West Coast mainland
time lots of visitors eat early. Stomachs don’t wear watches.  

“Pali Moon,” I said into the gate
speaker.

“And your business?” It was the
same guy as before. Was he dense, or did he just enjoy coming up with cracks
about ‘Let’s Get Maui’d’?’

“C’mon, you know me. I’m Lisa
Marie’s wedding planner.”

No comment from Mr. Witty as the
gate slowly inched open.

I parked the car and walked to the
front door, once again marveling at the wraparound oceanfront setting. Who says
money can’t buy happiness—or at least a fabulous view?

Once again, the maid, Josie, answered
the door before I had time to press the bell.

“Good evening, Miss Moon,” she
said, a big smile extending all the way to her eyes. I’d never seen her when
she wasn’t smiling. It didn’t seem to me that working for a guy like Marv
Prescott would be all that jolly, but then, most of the year the household help
had this beautiful house all to themselves, so maybe putting up with him for a
few days every now and then wasn’t so bad.

“Is Lisa Marie at home?” I said. “I
believe she’s expecting me.”

She looked at me with the look
people give when they know you’re lying but choose to ignore it.

“She here. Mr. Prescott here too.”

Was that a warning?

“
Mahalo
, but I only need to
speak with her. Would you please ask if I could have a few minutes of her
time?” That didn’t exactly jive with the notion of being expected, but she’d
already given me a pass on my weak lying skills.

She escorted me to the same
glorious room as before. The yellow walls and furniture seemed to hum in
harmony with the approaching sunset. I gazed at the crashing surf and felt a
wave of tranquility pass over me.

“What are you doing here?” Lisa
Marie said, startling me. I turned around. She looked more annoyed than usual.

“I like to meet with my brides each
day during their wedding week—to reassure you that everything’s coming together
as planned.”

“You could have left a message with
the maid.”

“Yes, but it’s part of my service
to meet with you face-to-face to keep you informed and address any last-minute
questions.”

“I don’t
have
any questions,
and if I did, I know how to reach you.”

“Good. Well then, I guess I’ll see
you tomorrow for your final dress fitting. And please remind your bridesmaids
they’ll need to come in as well.”

“Why?”

“Because they’ll need a fitting,
too.”

“No. Why do
I
have to remind
them? Isn’t that your job?”

“Oh, of course. I just assumed
since they were staying here with you—.”

“Well, you assumed wrong.”

“No problem.” I looked around, but
saw no sign of the bridesmaids. “If you’ll give me their contact information—.”

“Talk to Josie. She has their phone
numbers.”

There was an awkward pause as I
struggled to come up with a cheery farewell.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you
tomorrow. Oh, and on Wednesday morning I’ll be down here about noon to get
ready for the rehearsal, and then Thursday’s your big day.” I was chirping like
a song bird—nowhere close to my normal ‘I’m in charge’ voice.

She sighed. “Where’s my crane
picture?”

Ah, so she had a question after
all.

Lucky for me I had an answer. “The
girls said they’d be finished folding the cranes by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll
pick them up and get them over to the framer first thing Wednesday morning, and
he promised your picture will be ready by the end of the day.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“I’ve seen this framer’s work before.
It’s outstanding—the best on the island.”

She squinted.

“The best anywhere, actually,” I
went on. “All my Japanese clients—and those gals are
really
picky about
their origami keepsakes—swear by this guy.” Okay, so I’d had only one Japanese bride
who’d used this particular framer. But she’d been pleased, so why split hairs?

Lisa Marie plopped down on the
sofa, and stared out of the huge window to the ocean beyond. She didn’t ask me
to join her, but I got the feeling she wasn’t as eager to get rid of me as she
let on.

“You know, I almost forgot,” I
said. “I’ve put together a three-day schedule of events for the run-up to the
ceremony. Do you want to take a few minutes to go over it?” I pulled a copy
from my bag.

“No, I don’t. Daddy’s having a patio
party tonight and I need to freshen up.” She didn’t make a move to get up off
the sofa.

The French doors burst open and
Marv Prescott strode into the room. His pale, stubbly cheeks, silly comb-over
and darting eyes reminded me of guys featured on America’s Most Wanted. But
maybe I was unfairly viewing him through the filter of his alleged reputation.