Maui Magic

by Terry Ambrose

  16

  The overnight rains left the air and ground saturated with moisture. Shadows of night receded as the sun awakened from its slumber, bringing to life another sultry island day. As the broad leaves and asphalt driveway warmed, water droplets evaporated and rose into a steamy fog.

  Our next step was clear. I took a seat on the lānai, which was about ten feet wide and ran from the bedroom window all the way to the front of the condo. The gray patio table and chairs butted up against the wall beneath the open window. The shades were still down, which made me wonder if Benni was still asleep.

  At the other end of the lānai, along the living room window, stood a gray couch decorated with blue-and-yellow pillows to brighten up the monotony. White tiles, set on the diagonal, were slick with raindrops along the outer edge. The tiles butted up against a six-foot fence, which was worn down to bare wood from exposure to the elements. Maui’s nearly constant temperatures made this enclosed outdoor living space an ideal hideaway. If I lived here, I’d be out here all the time.

  I heard a door close inside the bedroom. Benni must have gotten up and was already heading to the shower. Well, snap. I hadn’t even fired up my laptop. Moments later, a familiar voice called to me from the front entrance.

  “Knock, knock.”

  I glanced up and motioned for Chance to join me.

  “I saw you eyeing the couch. Planning for the afternoon?”

  “You know me too well,” I suppressed a laugh.

  Chance wore his customary board shorts, a T-shirt, and Tigers baseball cap. His hat looked exactly like Thomas Magnum’s on the old TV show. It was either a great knock-off or… It would be just like Chance to own an original and not tell a soul. At times, I secretly wished he’d go searching for the Robin Masters estate, buy it, and let me stay in the fancy guest house. With no room and board, of course.

  “That couch is great on a warm afternoon,” I said. “I might need a nap do-over to reinforce the memory.”

  He nodded as he sat on the chair next to mine. “Move the cushions, curl up, and take a little siesta. Nice.”

  “It’s not going to happen, is it? Hisao’s case is turning into an example of peeling an onion. How many layers will we discover today?”

  “We need to find the guy Aimee told us about, McKenna. The one who makes the fake IDs.”

  Clanking noises came from next door, reminding me of how close these units were. It was only a little after six, so we needed to be more courteous—and discreet—to keep the neighbors from hearing every word we said.

  Despite getting in late last night, it looked like everybody around here was already gearing up for the day. We’d probably woken half the neighborhood when we rolled in. After all, we’d all been drinking and had been on the rowdy side.

  I inclined my head in the direction of the clanking noises from next door. Chance listened for a moment, nodded, and pressed one finger to his lips.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  He kept his voice low. “I just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

  “What surprises me is you’re not thinking about the case. So what about this identity thief or whatever you want to call him?”

  “I’m not sure.” He waved a hand dismissively.

  This didn’t seem much like Chance. “You’re up to something.”

  “No, McKenna. It’s a nice morning. Sunny skies, warm, humid…”

  “And I’m not buying all this stalling for one minute. Aimee told you how to reach him, didn’t she?”

  He shrugged and whistled quietly as he glanced up. I looked. Nothing unusual there. A layer of translucent plastic atop standard wooden lattice kept out the rain, but let the daylight filter in. And he thought he could raise my blood pressure by pretending to admire the fascinating architecture? Fine. Take this one, kid. “Yup, Bali style. Nice, huh?”

  He smiled. “I like it. Everything open. Too cool.”

  “Hey, did I tell you about our last trip? The one from Mother’s Day?”

  He waved both hands in the air. “All right, you win. You must have told me about it a dozen times. Yes, Aimee helped us out.”

  “Come on, kid, spill the beans. What did she say to you?”

  He smiled sheepishly and his face flushed pink. “Okay, I can’t keep it a secret any longer. That guy we were talking about last night? She wrote the phone number on the napkin as well as the name.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was a struggle to keep the edge out of my voice. “All you said was she gave you a name. And how did she get the phone number, anyway?”

  “Oh, sorry. Long day, yesterday. All that driving. The Escalade is nice, but man it’s big.”

  “You can always trade it in for something smaller. We can squeeze. And right now I’m ready to ring your neck. What have you got?”

  Chance shrugged. “I’m just messing with you. You know, get your day going.” He winked and reached into his pocket. His brow wrinkled ever so slightly.

  “Very funny. Not laughing.” I held out my hand.

  He grimaced as he checked the right pocket. “No. No way.”

  I stared at him, my mouth agape. “You lost the number?”

  “It’s got to be in the condo. Lexie, kind of…um…she said she had this yoga pose…”

  I waved my hands in front of my face. “No. Don’t tell me. Way too much information. I don’t want to know. When will she be up?”

  “She was making coffee when I left. I told her I wanted to talk to you…oh, man, that smells good.”

  “Bacon. The neighbors sure do make an impression.” The aroma had been growing. It was now overpowering. “Come on. Let’s go to your place before this drives me nuts.” I stood, donned my slippahs, and jerked my head toward the front gate. “You’d better hope Lexie’s got the number. Otherwise, you’re driving back to The Pony Club.”

  Chance still sat. “The room might be kind of…a mess.”

  “I’m a landlord, Chance, I’ve seen it all.”

  He and Lexie had the condo next to ours. Thankfully, this put them on the opposite side of the bacon people. At least the search would give us a respite from the breakfast aroma, which was one more reason to get moving.

  It took a little more coaxing, but Chance finally agreed it would be most efficient if we both searched for the missing phone number. I poked my head inside. The bedroom door was closed. Nothing else had changed. Coffee pot, half full; room, picked up; rustling noises came from the bathroom. Rather than going inside to say goodbye, I called to Benni over the eight-foot wall and told her where I was headed. She said she’d be over soon.

  At the front door of their condo, Chance knocked and peeked inside. He did a quick double take. “Lex?”

  “Come on in, babe.” Lexie stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes.

  Her lilting voice was cheerful, definitely brighter than my current state of grumpiness. I did not want to have to go back to the bar with our tails between our legs.

  Chance looked around inside and glanced at me. “It’s spotless,” he whispered, then glanced at me, panic on his face. “What if she threw it away?” He called, “Hey, Lex, I’ve got McKenna with me.”

  “Hey, McKenna.” She waved over her shoulder.

  We followed our island custom and removed our slippahs before stepping inside. I nudged mine into line next to theirs. From the first moment I’d learned about the old Japanese custom, I’d loved it. It might bug many mainlanders, but it kept down dirt and showed respect for the host.

  Indeed, nothing was out of place inside. If the room had been “messy” when Chance left, Hurricane Lexie swept through and undid the damage while Chance visited with me. She padded barefoot across the tiles and handed us steaming mugs of coffee. “Just made it.”

  We both muttered our thanks, but it appeared Chance was stalling again. This had gone way too
far. I gritted my teeth. How could these two lose such an important lead? “We need to look for a slip of paper Aimee gave Chance last night.”

  Lexie scrunched up her face. “Hmmm, paper.” She turned away and went to the coffeemaker, stood with her back to us while she poured herself a mug, then swung around and leaned against the counter. “Hmmm.” She cradled the mug in her hands. “Big? Small? What was on it?”

  Chance’s cheeks were bright red. He held his hands up and formed a rectangle a few inches on either side. “It had a phone number, but that’s all. It was in my pocket.” He checked his pocket again, then withdrew his hand. “I think it fell out when we…you know.”

  Her lips rounded to form an “oh.” She nodded, then set down her mug, and picked up her phone. She started texting. And what was going on with the smirk?

  She thought this was funny? No way. This was not happening.

  “Lexie, we need that scrap of paper,” I said.

  She kept her eyes glued to the phone as she nodded and continued texting. If she thought ignoring us would work, she was dead wrong. I jerked my head in her direction a couple of times. Surely Chance would get the message. Make your girlfriend realize what’s at stake.

  “Lex? We really need it. Like, right now.”

  I rolled my eyes. Nice wheedle job, Chance. She ignored him, too.

  Chance might be willing to beg, but I wasn’t. Why was she so oblivious? What was so important about a stupid text message? After a few seconds, I’d had enough. “If you’re too busy, we can look for it. Let’s toss the place, Chance.”

  Lexie grinned as she set down the phone. “Oh, all right, you don’t need to get all grumpy. We’re meeting her in two hours.”

  “Her?” I asked.

  “Yes, her.” Lexie snickered. “Billy referred Mandy to a woman. Aimee only had the initials, but her name is Penny Ditting. I’ve set up a meeting for ten o’clock.”

  17

  Our meeting was set for “ten-ish” at the Papawai Lookout. It was now just after eight, so we had a couple of hours to get ready and make the eleven-mile drive. But, those eleven miles were on a two-lane road. If one driver did something stupid, the entire trip could turn into an excruciating experience and take twice the time.

  This wasn’t exactly your standard business meeting, either. This connection involved someone who lived on the dark side of the law. Being late would not be an option. We made a firm pact to be “strapped in and ready to roll” at 9:30. Miracle of miracles, we assembled five minutes early.

  As Chance backed down the driveway, I said, “I guess nobody wants to be late.”

  A round of “Not me’s” echoed throughout the cabin. Lexie sounded like she was going on a junior-high outing to the zoo. Benni tempered her zest for the trip a bit more, but not by much. Chance, of course, exuded his usual ready-to-go enthusiasm.

  We rolled into the parking lot ten minutes early. There were only two cars in the lot. One was a late-model Ford Escort dotted with dusty rain splatters. The other was an old Corolla with a huge dent in the fender and a healthy crop of rust eating away at the hood. The windshield had a crack running from the center across the passenger’s side of the car to the opposite edge of the glass.

  I passed by the car and went to watch the ocean. We had a 270-degree spectacular ocean view. The trade winds at the lookout were strong, maintaining a steady onshore blast of refreshing air.

  A twenty-something couple stood at the railing. He snapped pictures of her, then they changed places. The only other person here was the young woman with her wares for sale. “We came all this way so they could buy jewelry?” I shook my head and let out a huff. “So much for Lexie’s plan.”

  Chance nodded, then turned his attention to the coastline. “Give it time, McKenna. Maybe she’s late.”

  The couple piled into the Escort and left. No doubt now. The junker belonged to the jewelry girl. Her dark hair blew in the wind, and her windbreaker jacket flapped over a black T-shirt and shorts. She had a silver cross hung round her neck, black-painted lips, and wore a heavy dose of eyeliner.

  The pieces on the table in front of her were mostly silver. I recognized a similarity between many of them immediately. The crosses resembled the one around her neck. The only difference was they came in varying sizes. She also had tourist-friendly wares like island-style necklaces and earrings.

  “She’s a regular goth jewelry store with a view. The tourists can do a photo op and get a souvenir in one stop. Good business model.” I said.

  Chance nodded. “I guess this is as good a place as any to make a last sale. At least she’s got some more traditional stuff, too.”

  Lexie and Benni began fingering the pieces. Lexie picked up one, held it to her neck, and said something to the vendor.

  “Something for everyone,” I grumbled. “Looks like your girlfriend forgot about the case and is going to spend money.”

  Chance glanced over at her and sighed. “She loves to buy that stuff, but never wears it. Her sisters do though. So she buys, then gives it away.”

  “Looks like she’s negotiating. I hope she gets you a good deal.” I watched the ocean swells roll in. From here, the view of the coastline was almost endless.

  “She’ll pay for it herself. Lexie’s super independent about stuff like that. McKenna…” Chance’s voice trailed off.

  “What?” I turned around. Something seemed off in the way the girls were talking to the vendor. “They’re not negotiating price, are they?”

  Chance shook his head. “Let’s go find out what’s up.”

  Benni motioned for us to come over. She tilted her head, this time more vigorously. We left our post and approached.

  Lexie pointed at the goth girl. “Guys, meet Penny.”

  It took a moment, then the name registered. The jewelry vendor was our identity thief? “As in, the Penny you talked to earlier?”

  Penny’s voice was littered with gravel, like someone who had smoked one too many cigarettes each day for far too many years. “Lexie says you’re in charge, dude.” She pointed at me.

  “I suppose,” I said.

  She turned her attention to Chance. “That makes you the banker.”

  To his credit, Chance remained silent. However, I could see he was ready to haul out the old wallet if necessary.

  Another car pulled off the road and parked at the opposite end of the lot. Two kids and their parents piled out. Everyone was dressed in tourist chic—aloha shirts for the dad and son, matching tropical print sundresses for mom and her daughter. The girl took her mother’s hand and walked with her to the railing while the boy charged ahead.

  Penny watched them for a moment. “Oh man, snobs. They won’t buy anything. Not here.”

  “How do you know?” Lexie’s brow was creased as she watched the boy run around while the girl dutifully remained near her mother.

  “I’m a people person, dude.” Penny winked at Lexie and laughed. “I can spot them.”

  Lexie nodded knowingly, her eyes wide with wonder, her smile contagious. She must be having the time of her life with this little encounter, but it was time for the experienced to take over. We didn’t have all day.

  “You made a fake ID for a woman,” I said. “The new name was Mandy Kenoi.”

  “Can’t, like, say I recall the name,” Penny gazed at me with a sly smile.

  “How much?” Chance demanded.

  “For what, dude?”

  It was the third time she’d used the word dude, which wasn’t terribly common in the islands. “You must be from LA.”

  My comment caught her off guard, and we were suddenly in a staring contest, each trying to outlast the other. The duel ended in a tie when Chance interrupted us.

  “Ahem. Well, everyone is from somewhere, right? What we really need is Mandy’s true identity and where she came from.”

&
nbsp; The pink tip of her tongue flicked over her lips. She held up the silver necklace Lexie had been looking at. She smiled. Handed it to Chance. “Two fifty.” She suppressed a small huff.

  Something in her response—the quickness perhaps, or the seeming joy—had my curiosity up. “What’s so funny?”

  “I didn’t like, think anyone would have the guts to stiff me, man. I’m, like, the one who’s helping them disappear. But she did it. Paid me with fake bills. I only deal in cash and never had a problem before. After her, I bought this.”

  She picked up a device resembling a mini flashlight.

  “UV scanner?” asked Chance. He glanced at me. “It’s used to spot counterfeit bills.”

  I looked at him. “I’m impressed. The online classes?”

  He nodded. “I thought it could come in handy.”

  Of course. Didn’t everyone have a UV scanner the size of a pen in their pocket? Since Chance had moved into our building, we’d seen a huge increase in UPS deliveries. I had a sudden urge to break into his apartment to see what other “PI tools” he’d collected.

  Penny laid her counterfeit bill detector pen next to a six-inch, silver cross with flaring edges. “Best ten bucks I ever spent was for the pen.”

  Chance blinked and his eyes widened.

  I suppressed a smile. He must have ordered from the guy who was running his PI classes. How much had he been upcharged? I watched Penny’s face. I really had to see how she reacted to this one. “It surprises me. I’d have expected a counterfeiter to be able to spot a fake bill.”

  “I do not do that!” Penny leaned forward and glared at me. “That’s illegal, man. That’s like, Secret Service level serious.” She slouched back in her rickety little folding chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “All I do is, like, let people become someone else.” She swiped at her cheek with one hand. “Nobody gets hurt, dude. Nobody.”

  Right. Except for those left behind when someone chose to disappear. And what about Mandy? She was dead. I guess Penny’s bravado was just a front—her eyes were all watery. Deep down, perhaps she did realize people got hurt.