Coco's Nuts

by Tyler Colins

  “I've never seen Richie J deal, talk about, or take drugs,” I responded coolly. “If he is a drug dealer, he certainly never dealt when we were together.”

  “What did you find out about him?”

  “The man loves money and the finer things it buys. He's a successful businessman who primarily finances entertainment deals.” I shrugged. “He's got a lot of connections and friends.”

  Again, Ald studied me. “I hope you're not protecting that dirt bag out of some sense of loyalty or love, or something.”

  “Read my lips, Detective,” I said crisply. “I, JJ Fonne, never witnessed Richie J talking about or dealing drugs.”

  He drew a deep breath and the thick, notched scar on his right temple seemed to pulse as he reviewed something on his laptop. “Shall we take it from the moment you were aware someone else was in the cabin…”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Save for major turbulence en route to Atlanta, the connecting flight to Wilmington was uneventful. A cab drive to Mom's wellness B&B was quick and quiet, unlike my [surprise] arrival at 10:30 a.m.

  Mom, not normally an emotional or feely kind of person, grabbed and kissed me while Quincy, who had a P.D. day, hooted and hollered, and hugged me as if he never wanted to let go. It was great to be home and see both, if only for a short while. I needed my family as much as I needed down time.

  After a quick call to Oahu in which I recounted the events of the last hours on the boat, I told my colleagues I was out of the office for the next week – in every respect. We'd catch up upon my return.

  The week flew quickly. Every day, before dinner, Quincy happily and eagerly demonstrated swimming techniques in Mom's small indoor saltwater pool. The little guy (who, at the age of twelve, wasn't so little anymore) had even bought me goggles with my name engraved on the stylized frames: how cute was that?

  “We'll get you swimming ten laps in no time, Aunt Sis,” the slim and trim pre-teen promised after popping up following three impressive underwater laps.

  He'd always viewed me as his big sister. He'd barely been six when his mother, my thrill-seeking sister, Reena Jean, had been yanked into the ocean by a giant wave as she'd boldly stood on a pier during a Category Four hurricane. She'd laughed at Mother Nature and told her to bring it on; Mother Nature granted her request and had the last laugh. Quincy was like a little brother in every sense and I was certainly as protective of him as he was attached to me.

  As we were taking a walk to a comic bookstore Saturday morning, I couldn't help but notice how he resembled both Reena Jean and me. He had my heart-shaped face and full “model” lips, and Reena Jean's (and Mom's) wavy dark-brown hair, long limbs, and pecan-brown eyes. I realized how angry I still was with my sister since she'd died – firstly, for her being so reckless when she'd had a son to raise and secondly, for leaving us (me). The two of us had just started to bond and then, poof, she was gone. The avoidable loss had infuriated me so much, I'd ripped up nearly every photo of her.

  After guests had been tended to (Mom had two older couples staying the week I was there), she and I sat in the living room, sipping wine or herbal tea, and catching up on family tales.

  “Your Aunt Mat's coming for a five-day visit the second week of November.”

  “How nice,” I said with a casual smile, studying my mother's attractive oval face. It seemed as if she'd lost a few lines. Or maybe running a wellness B&B provided youth and cheer. It certainly seemed to make her happy and calm. The eccentricity that the five Fonne sisters had inherited from two unconventional parents, Jocasta Genvieve and Elmer Finkston Fonne, seemed less pronounced … or maybe I'd become so accustomed to it, unconventional behavior no longer appeared out of the ordinary.

  I'd have liked to have had more time with my grandparents. My grandmother (Gram JoGen to the family) had worked at her father's small-town soda fountain on weekends and one sticky-sweet July afternoon the perpetual pranksters' eyes met over a root-beer float and the rest, as the saying went, was history. My grandfather (Gramp Elm) had spent the next thirty years as manager, general manager, and then vice-president of a company specializing in joke novelties and fun gizmos, many of which had graced Fonne mantels for decades.

  “Did you do something to your face?”

  She giggled and unconsciously brushed her cheek. “I had some acupuncture – you know, a natural face-lift.”

  “It looks good.”

  “…And maybe there's a little Botox.”

  “Maybe?” I grinned.

  “Maybe,” she affirmed with a wink and topped off glasses with more chardonnay. “That was quite an escapade back in Connecticut.”

  “To say the least.” Vivid memories of that insane week-long stay that had resulted in five murders and the discovery of Aunt Mat's dark family secret would undoubtedly accompany me to my grave. “Were you and Aunt Mat very close?”

  “Not particularly. She was the oldest and I was the youngest. There wasn't a lot we had in common.”

  “But Rey's mom is only a couple years younger than Aunt Mat, and you two are close.”

  “We weren't initially. We bonded around the time you and Rey were in grades one and three,” she explained. “She's coming to Oahu with Quincy and myself for the holidays. Did I mention that?”

  “No.” How would Rey take the news, given the prickly relationship she and her mother shared? Aunt Rowena Jaye had never been keen on her daughter's choice of acting career, never mind her moving to California at nineteen to pursue it. Perhaps it was time mother and daughter buried the hatchets and made peace.

  “…Do you want to tell me about him?”

  “Him?”

  “There's a look in your eyes – haunted, I'd call it. Maybe a little sad, or unsure. It's not quite the same when you and Adwin broke up, but similar.”

  I sipped wine as I reflected on Cash. Yes, I'd returned to North Carolina to escape all that had transpired – to a point. While I'd really yearned to see Mom and Quincy because it had been too long, I'd also wanted a different (distant) environment to put things into perspective.

  Despite the constant hazards and threats that went with his profession, Cash/Richie would continue to do well; he was highly skilled, dedicated, and motivated. As for us, well, there was no us. There never had been, merely a few fun times, trying times, and dodgy times. He was in Miami now, and that was that. He'd never made any promises and I could hardly fault him for that.

  “Well?”

  I scanned Mom's face and smiled, and narrated a Reader's Digest version of the relationship. After all, what were mothers for?

  * * *

  The week back on the Mainland passed quickly and before I knew it, I was back on Oahu, looking forward to the holidays that weren't far off. Once Thanksgiving arrived, they'd be here before we knew it. Maybe it was time to start Christmas shopping … but maybe I'd better get in the mood first.

  Upon alighting from a cab, I focused on a to-do list I'd made on the return flight. First stop: car rental agency. A Ford Focus would do nicely for the interim. Second stop: the condo to change into sandals and newly purchased lightweight skirt and long V-neck jersey shell. Third stop: the police station to pick up the items that had been left on the Nathison. In an effort to avoid Ald, Gail had greeted me in the lobby, thrust a large plastic Hello Kitty bag into my arms, and cheerfully waved me off. The fourth stop, an impulsive one: the marina.

  I pulled into the parking lot and hastened towards the slip. En route, I sighted energetic and gleeful-looking Grange, once again bobbing and bopping to a high-volume dance beat that would surely result in early hearing loss. The in-ear headphone came off when I waved.

  “Hey there. Remember me?”

  “Who'd forget a cute girl like you?” A toothy smile revealed tiny rabbit teeth.

  “I'm far from a girl, but I'll take that as a compliment,” I laughed, squeezing his forearm.

  Olive-green eyes regarded me curiously. “You know he's gone, right?”

  “I do,”
I confirmed with an easy smile. “I just wanted to see the boat.”

  “It's going up for sale next week.”

  “It's a handsome boat. I'm sure there'll be a lot of interest.”

  “Some people have already been looking. I think it's more the fact that someone died, uh, yeah.” Flat cheeks turned geranium red.

  I squeezed his arm again. “Take care of yourself. I'll see you around.”

  A little after eleven, I arrived at my final destination. Rey leapt from the rattan sofa while Linda, munching an apple in the “sort-of” kitchen, squealed. The half-eaten fruit flew across the room, Button barked, and Bonzo sat up on hind legs and wiggled his whiskery nose in greeting.

  Dropping my purse and Hello Kitty bag on one of two stunning contemporary black desks, I raced over. The three of us embraced like exuberant fans whose team had won the NBA playoffs while Button raced around our legs and Bonzo hopped around her. My cousin and her best friend looked great: Rey had her shoulder-length hair in a very becoming updo while Linda's raspberry-red hair had a Jackie Kennedy thing going. Both were attired in casual slacks and pastel-toned blouses.

  “What's this? A private investigation agency or pet daycare?” I grinned. “The place looks amazing! So do you two – very casual businesslike. And I love the choice of desks.”

  “We thought we'd bring the kids now and again for that homey feel,” Rey explained, sliding an arm around my shoulder and escorting me to the sofa. “As for the desks, we got kicked out of one place on account of a free-for-all we got into when we couldn't agree.” She snorted and sat. “But it's all good now.”

  Envisioning the free-for-all that surely had to have had the two rolling in an aisle or two, I had to laugh. “Gail's dropping by at seven tonight. We're ordering pizza and she's bringing beer.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Linda slipped into one of four rattan chairs. “How's the family?”

  “Quincy's growing fast and Mom's lost ten pounds and some facial lines.” I studied my nails. “They're definitely coming for the holidays – for two full weeks. Aunt Sue Lou's going to keep an eye on the B&B while they're here.”

  “I know you. Look at me, Jilly!” Rey's brow puckered and she waved a finger with a partially peeled bandage. “What's up?”

  “…Your mom's coming, too.”

  My cousin's face acquired a pasty pallor.

  “It'll be fine,” I assured her. “Really.”

  She got up and stepped into the kitchen, pulled out cans of coconut water from the fridge, and passed them around. “Thanks for refusing to take calls or respond to emails and texts,” Rey said dryly, sitting across from Linda.

  “What's new?” I asked cheerfully, steering the conversation elsewhere.

  “Lots,” Linda replied. “Your neighbor, that cute surfer, “Long Legs”, is moving. Mr. and Mrs. Chan got another dog, a Corgi. And Petey's back on Big Island. He's coming to Oahu with Stella for a four-day weekend in November. It looks like they may get back together.”

  “Awesome for them, but not for Gail. She really liked him. Have we heard from Buddy at all?”

  Rey nodded. “We got a check on Friday with a thank-you card.”

  “Oh, Ald called about that Jape Driscoll character. We answered questions as best we could … stating, of course, that this case had been a solo job because Rey and I had other pressing responsibilities,” Linda explained. “After you left, Colt made the news a couple of days, but then disappeared – as if he, or that night, had never happened. Emilio's checking out a couple of things he unearthed just after you left. They date back to Colt's Picolo days and may come in handy if anyone decides, down the road, to investigate the guy further.”

  “And what's up with you two?”

  “Makjo flew to Japan yesterday to attend a cousin's wedding and is staying sixteen days to catch up with relatives,” Linda offered. “I'm doing a few food and wine reviews. That's about it for me, but Rey may get a part in a Daniel Craig film shooting here in January and she met a super cute cop who she had coffee with yesterday.”

  “Hey, that's my news,” Rey said with pretend displeasure.

  “Oooh, tell all, Cous.”

  “Only if you tell us about your boating adventures,” she challenged.

  I could feel my expression darken and my body tense.

  “When you're up for sharing,” she said with a blithe smile. “The cop's name is Marcel and besides being very hunky, he's smart and funny, but we only had coffee and that's it. He mentioned maybe going bowling, but I'm not interested in pursuing a relationship right now.”

  “Tell JJ how you met.”

  “We bumped into each other –”

  “Bumped?” Linda bah-hah-hahed. “Our girl 'inadvertently' raced across a crime-scene barrier and smashed into him. She was checking out a cheating husband for a p'o'd wife. It turned out that the cheating hubby received a felling blow from a glass cylinder vase – thus, the crime scene. That was before Rey could even confirm that the guy was cheating.”

  “Was he?”

  “Yup, with three different women – one from work, one from the corner store, and one from a bar on the beach.”

  I shook my head. Men. “So, we had a wayward husband case. Anything else?”

  “Yes!” Rey leaned forward excitedly. “We may have a new client on a rolling basis. Francis Xavier Shillingford – can you beat a name like that? – is an insurance adjuster who just moved here from Chicago.”

  “He goes by his middle name.” Linda rose and went to the fridge to get treats for the fuzzies. “I've never met an Xavier until we moved here. Now I know two!”

  “He's hot.” Rey shook her hand.

  Linda fanned her face. “Like hot-hot! A cross between Shemar Moore and Boris Kodjoe.”

  “That would be pretty damn hot,” I agreed.

  “He thinks we could collaborate on insurance cases.”

  “How'd he hear about us?”

  “Ouch.” Rey pouted as she eyed her finger. “Stupid cut's bleeding again. Anyone got a decent bandage?”

  “Don't we have a first-aid kit?”

  “Yeah, sitting on two cases of bottled water back at the condo that we keep forgetting to bring,” she grumbled.

  I motioned the Hello Kitty bag on the desk. “There should be some in the cosmetic bag or knapsack. So, how'd he hear?”

  “Evidently, he knows Ald – pal of a pal of a pal – and Ald suggested he try us. Can you beat that? I thought he was royally pissed off with you.” Rey grabbed the bag and rummaged through with one hand. Removing the knapsack, she peered through various pockets. “Hey, what's this?” She held up a brownie-sized box that had been wrapped with metallic pink paper and was now exposed.

  I shrugged, not having seen it before.

  “Can I open it?”

  “Go for it.”

  “…Whoa.” She held up a small braided gold chain from which hung a delicate gold wolf pendant. A small bow suspended around the wolf's neck was encrusted with tiny garnets. It could have been Barbie-ish if it weren't so intricately crafted. It was, in a word: beautiful.

  “Whoa,” Rey repeated, spellbound. She passed it to me and peered through the box. Removing a small folded piece of paper, she carefully opened it. In tiny black ink was a telephone number and name: Richie J's.

  “Wow,” Linda and Rey said in unison.

  “Are you going to put it on, Cousin Jilly?” Rey asked eagerly.

  “I'm going to put it away.”

  …For now.

  About The Author

  I possess numerous years of experience in freelance writing, editing and proofreading, as well as training in business communications and technical writing. My current focus: fiction. I (still) plan to reside in Hawaii permanently and embrace America, a country I've been enamored with since childhood. Besides writing, my passions include the aforementioned land of Aloha, animals in all shapes and sizes, fitness and athletics, the Good Lord and spirituality.

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  Discover other titles by Tyler Colins

  The Connecticut Corpse Caper

  Can You Hula Like Hilo Hattie?

  Forever Poi (coming early 2018)

  To discover what mis-adventures prompted the trio to become professional detectives, please check out The Connecticut Corpse Caper.

  As proud owners of the Triple Threat Investigation Agency, the rookie detectives continue to hone skills as they take on challenging cases with curious (if not crazy) characters. The following prologue from Forever Poi serves as a sample chapter in the continuing sleuthing escapades of JJ, Rey and Linda.

  Forever Poi: Prologue

  Tar-black smoke, twined with tendrils of amber-and-silvery flames, twirled from both floors of the two kitschy art galleries across the street, eight and nine doors down respectively, alongside a narrow lane. Four fire trucks were positioned directly in front while a half dozen cruisers, with emergency lights persistently flashing, were parked haphazardly nearby. As police officers firmly but patiently kept the curious at bay, firefighters darted around like baseball players racing for home plate in a valiant endeavor to bring the raging fire under control.

  Bright revolving lights bounced off buildings and individuals as a wailing ambulance braked to a stop behind its recently arrived mate. Paramedics leapt from the vehicle, ready to respond, and urgent commands and questions fused with frantic action.

  Beyond ominous yellow tapes flapping like long-forgotten prom ribbons in the breezy night, fire personnel and law enforcement members vigorously attempted to piece together what had transpired. Media vans were situated sporadically close by as reporters and journalists scrambled madly to capture the smoldering excitement for viewers and readers.