Maui Magic

by Terry Ambrose

  I nodded, a picture of Penny forming in my head. Had those two known each other before?

  “We done, man?”

  “Almost, Dixon. I have one more question What do you know about Cap Myers?”

  Dixon gave me the “zero” look again. Zero recognition, or interest. Rats. I’d hoped for a different perspective. Something, any shred of insight on this nasty guy who was turning into a major annoyance.

  “I heard he shows up when he wants to.”

  “I don’t know anything about the dude.” He winked. “I guess we’re cool, that wasn’t really a question. No worries. I only come here for the meetings. I’m not, like, twenty-one yet. And this kind of place isn’t my thing, anyway.”

  “Right. Do you ever see Cap Myers in the market?”

  “I told you, man, I don’t know him. Who is he, anyway?”

  Once again, Cap Myers remained a mystery. These interviews were creating more questions than ever. Did Cap Myers have anything to do with Mandy’s disappearance? Why was he so secretive? And what was the relationship between Mandy and Penny really like?

  I shot a frustrated glance at the bar. My traveling ATM and Billy were sitting on stools facing each other. They were deep in conversation, but the bartender had his hand out, palm up, and was wiggling his fingers. Now what?

  24

  I let Dixon go, anxious to find out what was going on between Chance and Billy the Bartender. He’d fooled us last night with the whole cooperation routine. All he’d really sold us was information about this meeting. Big deal. A public meeting. No deep, dark secrets there.

  Chance was fingering his wallet, looking like he might be ready to put Billy on the payroll again, and I considered changing this guy’s title to Billy the Barterer. What was he selling now?

  If Chance was throwing more money at Billy, I wanted to be sure he got something worthwhile. I hurried over and laid a hand on Chance’s shoulder. “Hold up a second. What’s he want?”

  “A card. In case he needs a PI.”

  Chance handed one to Billy, another to me. I held my breath, fully prepared to crawl under the nearest table and hide when Billy saw the Phillip Marlowe Online Detective Agency name. I glanced down and read the card. Oh, not a bad name change. Almost respectable. I read out loud, “Chance Logan, PI. Philip Marlowe Agency. You got new cards. Very nice.”

  “Awesome name, brah. Good idea your boss had. He was telling me the dude was this big mystery fan, and how he named his agency for this Marlowe.” He exchanged a fist bump with Chance. “Nice, brah. I like it.”

  “Thanks, brah.” Chance leaned forward, his gaze confident and casual.

  Well, snap. I had to give the kid credit. He wasn’t a licensed private investigator. Couldn’t hire out his services. And, had no paying clients. Correction, he could never have a paying client. At least, not until he worked for a legitimate agency. But, Billy didn’t know those teeny-tiny, insignificant details.

  “Cool.” I peeked at the card one more time before slipping it into my pocket and nudging my partner. “You’re in good hands, Billy. So, how about it, Chance? If Billy helps us out on this case, maybe we do a little tit-for-tat when he needs help?”

  “I already told him he’ll get a discount, McKenna.” He gave Billy a thumbs up. “It’s my CI rate.”

  The bartender’s head was moving up and down like a bobblehead doll in the rear window of a ’57 Chevy. The CI rate? Slick. Billy was anything but a confidential informant. He fit the LD—lying dirtbag—better. On the plus side, he had no clue how we felt about him so our charade might work. I flipped him a shaka sign. “Lucky you, Billy. This could come in handy.”

  He examined the card and his brows puckered. “How this gonna work?”

  “The more you help us, the more we do for you,” Chance said.

  Billy pursed his lips and nodded agreeably. “Sounds like a plan to me.” Suddenly, he turned overly cooperative. “Now you met the group. Looked like some of them gave you trouble. Interviews didn’t go so good?”

  “People have a tendency to get testy when you pry,” I said. “Let’s see if you can confirm something for me. How well did you know Mandy?”

  He shook his head. “Not much, brah. Same as anybody who only comes in once in a while. Except for the meetings and the night she got killed, she wasn’t never here. What else you want help with?”

  “You’d heard about her and Conroy, yah?”

  Billy snorted. “You kidding? Conroy wasn’t doing nothing with her.”

  “He told me he shared their relationship with you.”

  “Relationship?” Billy scratched his chin. Pursed his lips again. “I’m telling you, man. Ain’t nothing between them. She wasn’t into him at all.”

  “Come on, Billy, I’m sure you’ve got more than that. Who was she seeing? If we’re going to have an agreement, you can’t be holding back on me. It’s not a one-way street.”

  The bartender shrugged and picked up a white towel. He swiped at the already clean bar a couple of times and avoided Chance’s gaze.

  I suspected we’d moved beyond gossip and into the realm of what Billy considered Valuable Information. What would it take to break open Billy’s intelligence piggy bank? “You trade a lot of information, don’t you, Billy?”

  Still polishing the spotless bar, Billy glanced up and locked his gaze onto mine. “I hear things.”

  “Everything comes at a price, doesn’t it, Billy?” Chance pulled out his wallet. “What’s yours? I like to reward my CIs.”

  “How much you got, man?” He laughed and his gaze ricocheted around the room.

  Chance closed the wallet and stuffed it into his back pocket. His eyes locked onto Billy’s with an intensity I’d seldom seen. This was impressive. I was dying to see what he’d do next.

  “Here’s how it works,” Chance said while beginning to count on his fingers. “One, you tell me what you’ve got. Two, I make an offer. Three, you accept.”

  Billy swallowed hard. I waited. Chance waited. And Billy must have seen his error. He began to sweat. His greed had gotten the better of him, and whatever he had must be good. The message couldn’t have been clearer—he’d lost the power struggle, and the dam would soon burst.

  A few seconds later, Billy stopped wiping the bar and stared at Chance “What if I don’t accept?”

  Chance pulled his phone, set a timer for two minutes, and placed it on the bar where Billy could watch the countdown.

  “What’s that for?”

  “It’s when I walk out the door and you lose a payday. And any future favors. This offer is on the table one time. Are you familiar with the old saying, you’re either with us or against us? This is the crossroads, Billy. Which path are you going to choose?”

  When the display read 1:39, Billy asked, “What kind of stuff would you want?”

  Chance didn’t answer. I waited. This was better than HBO. The countdown was at 1:09 when Billy cracked.

  “I might have a couple things—what if I told you about Hisao and Mandy?” His breaths were fast, his voice anxious.

  Chance reached out and rotated the phone so he could see the display, then turned it back to face Billy. “Have you got something other than what you told me last night? You better make it worthwhile. Time’s running out.”

  “Okay, okay. Shut it off.”

  “When you give me something of value.”

  “Mandy was blackmailing Hisao.” Billy shoved the virtual ticking clock across the bar. “Shut it off, man. I said I’d tell you about it.”

  “What do you think, McKenna?” Chance looked at me, his face impassive.

  I leaned over and peered at the phone. “Whew, less than forty seconds to go, Billy.” Sweat ran in a series of rivulets down the man’s neck. He must need the money. What did he have going on that could make him so desperate? I continued to watch B
illy’s face and tried to read his emotions. I saw a boatload of anxiety. No, fear.

  “Sounds like we have a subject worth exploring.” Chance read the display. “Hmmm, twenty seconds. How about a hundred bucks, Billy?”

  The bartender’s jaw dropped, but his eyes were glued to the numbers on the screen. Obviously, he wanted more. He might think he could parcel this out, but I suspected Chance wouldn’t go for any of that. Billy nodded and Chance canceled the timer. He pocketed his phone, pulled a hundred from his wallet, and showed it to Billy.

  The bartender’s face lit up in a wide smile revealing slightly yellowed, crooked teeth. The smile faded a second later when Chance ripped the bill in half. He handed one piece to Billy and held the other up in front of Billy’s face.

  “You get this when I’m satisfied. Start talking.”

  25

  Chance stuffed his part of the hundred into his pocket while he let Billy contemplate the other half. The look on the bartender’s face was priceless. He went from gloat to glum with one quick motion. This guy listened when money talked, and he’d just been told, “You’re toast, moron.”

  “Why’d you do that, man?” Billy gaped at Chance.

  Sitting on the nearest stool watching the rest of the show, I had to admit, it felt good to see the color drain from Billy’s face.

  “I’m not sure you’re telling me the truth,” Chance shrugged. “Call this my insurance policy.”

  “I ain’t gonna lie to you, brah,” Billy whined. “C’mon, I need the money.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Billy’s shoulders slumped, and he buried his face in his hands. When he looked up, tears formed in his eyes. “The owner’s gonna close this place down if it don’t start making a profit. I’m getting squeezed from both ends, man. Between paying for the booze, the girls, the utilities…this club barely stays afloat. I gonna lose it all if…this committee was supposed to improve my public image. You know?”

  “I get it,” I said. “Every hooker hangout needs good PR. It does sound like a serious problem.”

  “You making fun of me?” Billy straightened and glared at me.

  I cocked my head at Chance. “He’s the guy who tore up your payday, not me.”

  Billy must have realized taking a swing at me would not be in his best interest, because his tone turned whiny. “I owe child support, too, brah. I don’t pay up on that and…and the cops gonna throw me in jail.”

  Now we knew Billy’s true priorities. Money outranked pride. The bartender must not realize he’d just given Chance a ton of leverage. Chance pulled the bill out and waved it in the air.

  “You’d better tell me the truth. And fast.” He stuffed the bill back in his pocket.

  Sweet. The ticking clock. Had he learned that trick from Mr. Marlowe? A scammer would know how to use it for sure. Plus, the kid sounded unfazed by Billy’s tale of woe. I don’t know who’d taught him, but somewhere along the line, Chance had discovered the art of pressuring a source.

  “You said Mandy was blackmailing Hisao. Why?” Chance asked, his gaze steady.

  To my delight, he showed no sign of turning down the heat, which made me happy to not be on the other end of this interrogation.

  The bartender contemplated the back of the bar with a long gaze. Wine and whiskey bottles lined up in front of the mirrored wall stared at him. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a thousand-foot cliff while he considered taking that one last step. “Okay, man, okay. It all started when I put an ad in the Maui News. I was asking for volunteers to stop the ag companies from using atrazine. It gets in the water, man. Lasts, like, forever. The big companies fighting it, man. We seen a little progress, but it’s too slow for people like me. I got a kid. Thinking about her growing up drinking poisoned water—it sickens me.”

  Billy paused and licked his lips before he continued. “I care, brah. I do. Anyways, I figured if I could get some high-powered shakers and movers together, we could make changes faster. Hisao was the only one who said he’d help out. All the others wanted nothing to do with a hostess bar.”

  Billy stopped, worried the towel in his hands for a few seconds, and watched Chance.

  “That’s it?” I scoffed. “You expect him to pay you a hundred bucks because you’ve developed a conscience? How about if we nominate you for Father of the Year instead?”

  Chance’s eyes were hard now, the cut of his jaw firm. “This guy’s a waste of time.”

  “No, no. Wait, man. There’s more. I wanted to make sure you got some, like, some background. So you’ll understand where I’m coming from.”

  “Let’s go, McKenna. You need to get cleaned up.” Chance turned and walked away.

  I stared after Chance, then hopped off my stool and glanced at Billy. The pressure must have gotten to him because he cracked.

  “I ain’t done, man!”

  Chance stopped, turned to face Billy, and shook his head. “I think you are.”

  “No, man. When word got around Hisao was involved, it added credibility. Things was looking up. I starting to think the plan was gonna work. Then, all these Four Rivers people started showing up. So I tried talking Hisao into doing both, you know? But, he wasn’t having none of that. He was stuck on a cause. He kept saying it was a mistake. Said we had to keep our focus.”

  I kept my mouth shut, but Hisao was right. If you wanted to change the world, you needed to start with one thing.

  “Mandy showed up at one of the meetings,” Billy said. “She had this big, fancy background. Girl worked for some charity on the mainland. She was new here and all gung-ho to fix the ‘water problem’ on Maui. Next thing I know, Hisao likes the idea of bringing in them other people. He starts calling this one of them coalition things and says he’s gonna guide the direction for water on island. It was like this overnight thing. After that, all the ones who wanted to open the rivers came back.”

  To my surprise, Chance had disconnected from the conversation and was focused on his cell phone. Billy caught the shift, too. Chance might think he could interrogate and text at the same time, but it wasn’t working. Billy’s face fell. Obviously, he was convinced he’d lost his payday. If we destroyed his hope, our source of information dried up, too. Someone needed to salvage the impending disaster, and it didn’t look like Chance had any interest.

  “Why did he change his mind?” I asked.

  Billy started. “What?” He stroked his beard. The creases in his brow deepened. It took a few seconds for him to decide, but he shifted his attention from Chance to me. “I dunno, man. Hisao is a funny dude. He wants all this power, but he ain’t no risk taker. He’s the real methodical type.”

  “Was it his idea to make Mandy the treasurer?” I asked, then held my breath in hopes he wouldn’t clam up.

  “Nah, man. That one’s all on Conroy.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. That was it. I had him. He was our source, not Chance’s alone. “Go on.”

  “Hisao was taking care of the books at first. When Mandy showed up and wanted to help, Conroy started pushing to make her official. She’d done same kinda stuff for that charity in LA. Besides, dude said he’d oversee her work.”

  “Did he?”

  Billy snorted. “Slacker never did squat.”

  I shook my head. None of this made sense. “So Conroy had the hots for Mandy and pushed her on Hisao as treasurer. Then, he didn’t oversee what she did. That’s consistent with what he told us, but you still haven’t explained how or why Mandy committed blackmail. Isn’t that what we need, Chance?”

  He nodded absently and continued doing whatever he was doing on his phone. The kid and I had to have a talk about that one. No question. I locked my gaze onto Billy’s and waited.

  “I don’t know.” Billy began wringing the towel again. “Hisao only told me what she was doing. He didn’t say why. Mandy said Conroy did
some kind of audit and found out there was money missing when she took over as treasurer.”

  What? Conroy audited the finances? “I thought he never worked on the books.”

  “There was no audit, man.” Billy snickered and leaned forward. “Mandy lied, but instead of getting rid of her, Hisao went along. All I know is when he told her he knew she was the one who stole the money, she said something that made him back off. Their deal was Mandy would pay all of it back in a couple of months. But she never did. Not a dime.”

  This was getting truly weird. Why wouldn’t Hisao have gone to the police? I glanced at Chance, who was even more engrossed in his phone. “What are you doing?”

  He looked up and smiled at me. Then peered straight at the bartender and sighed. “Billy, Billy. How was prison on the mainland, anyway?”

  I nearly swallowed my tongue, but I now knew what Chance had been working on so intently. “Oops. Forgot to mention the old time-in-the-slammer thing, huh?”

  The bartender tossed down the towel and turned in a slow circle and muttered to himself. His arms hung at his sides and his voice dragged as though thick with fear. “No, man, you got the wrong guy. I never did no time.”

  “That’s not what my sources tell me.” Chance looked down at his phone again. “Sure looks like you. Of course, it is a mug shot, so you look kind of worried. Chino, right? You were in for…oh, I see, embezzlement. Maybe prison didn’t teach you anything after all.”

  “Or it taught him how to improve his technique,” I said. “Tsk, tsk, Billy, a man with a record?”

  The sweat on Billy’s forehead began to trickle down his temples. He winced. “Nobody around here knows, brah. C’mon, gimme a break.”

  Chance zeroed in on Billy with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. There was no question. He had the guy right where he wanted him.

  “Bil-ly. Come on, man. You’ve been through this before. I don’t want to dwell on the past, but how am I supposed to believe a guy who tells me someone else was stealing when he’s a thief himself? You really have to give me some kind of proof.” Chance pulled out his half of the hundred-dollar bill and sighed. “I hate wasting good money.”