4 Maui Macadamia Madness

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Hard to take you seriously when you left without those so-called numbers this morning.” Ethan pulled the window shutters closed. “Wind is starting to pick up.”

  “Can’t be any worse than a tornado.” My gut clenched. “Except we have shelters back home. Where do we go to get away from a tropical storm?”

  “Camilla said it wasn’t a bad one, just some wind and heavy rain. We’ll be fine.” Ethan grabbed his room key. “But just in case, I like your idea about us staying with the rest of your family.”

  One peek out the shutters told me we’d be soaked by the time we arrived. An umbrella was propped in the corner, but with the wind velocity, it’d be next to useless. I sighed. No help for it, we’d have to get wet. I hoped my family had plenty of towels.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The wind buffeted us, stinging us with rain. Ethan kept a tight grip on my hand, most likely fearful I’d blow away. If this was a small tropical storm, I hated to see what a bad one was.

  Aunt Eunice must have been watching from the window because she had the door open the moment we reached for the handle. “Heavens, y’all are soaked." She handed us each a towel.

  “I’m guessing you guys were told to stay inside, too?” I dried my arms then wrapped the towel around my head.

  “The whole island’s most likely battened down,” Uncle Roy said. “Only wrench in the plan is staying here instead of investigating this mystery further.” He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, your Aunt Eunice told me all about it, and I am not happy.”

  “I’m sorry.” I really was, but we were headed home soon and I wanted this to be over.

  Uncle Roy handed me a steaming mug of coffee. I accepted and breathed deeply of the aroma. Who said I had to solve this mystery? I'd never see these people again, other than my family members. It wasn’t the same as a crime committed in my small hometown. Mr. Jamison’s murder had nothing to do with me or mine.

  I sat in an easy chair, closed my eyes, and reclined against the back of the chair while keeping my chilled fingers around the warm mug. Except for Uncle Roy expressing interest in something that turned out to be a scam, we could walk away free and clear. God, is that what you’re telling me to do? Walk away? Shove my curiosity into a box?

  Fairly certain He was, a feeling like a blanket of peace settled around me, I sat up and opened my eyes. “I’m no longer going to worry about this latest mystery.”

  Five pairs of eyes swiveled my direction. “Really?” Joe asked. “Because I wanted to take a longer look at those photos.”

  Maybe I heard God wrong? I couldn’t have. I was pretty certain He didn’t want me meddling any longer. But Joe was a police officer. If I detected anything, I could hand it over to him and still stay out of the actual case, right?

  “Okay.” I wiggled my fingers. “Let me see the pictures again.”

  Joe grinned. “I knew she couldn’t resist.” He handed them over. “You may be a meddlesome cousin, but I have to admit you often see things others miss.”

  “Why, thank you, I think.” Compliments from Joe always made me suspicious. Most of the time he was aggravated with me, rather than pleased.

  Ethan sat next to me. The faint scent of his cologne and the stronger one of rain and salt air filled my senses. Maybe we should have stayed in our own cottage.

  “That’s a woman.” Aunt Eunice bent over, crowding her head between Ethan and me.

  “How do you know?” I asked, peering closer. The person in the photo wore tropical shorts and a tank top.

  “The shape of the rear end, for one.” Aunt Eunice tapped her index finger on the picture. “And there’s a faint bra strap line through the tank top. She’s good. Almost good enough to pass for a guy, if that’s what she wanted to do.”

  “Aunt Eunice, you’re a genius!” I kissed her cheek. “That’s why we haven’t solved this thing. We’ve been looking for a man.” I switched my gaze to Joe. “It’s got to be either Malia or Camilla.”

  “I agree.” Joe peered out into the storm. “I think we should take our findings to Manano. I saw him go into the big house right before you two showed up.”

  “Spending more time with Susan, no doubt.” Aunt Eunice grabbed a rain slicker. She really did think of everything when she packed. “If you go, we all go. There isn’t a one of us going to stay behind so some evil woman can knock us off.”

  “I agree.” Joe grabbed a lightweight jacket. “We all go. I’ll be the one to speak with Mr. Wahine. The rest of you can hang out in the dining room.”

  “Yes, boss.” I gave him a sarcastic salute, in no desire to head back out into the rain and wind. I shivered.

  Ethan gathered me close. “We’ve got a little time for Summer to warm up, don’t we? Before we have to head back out?”

  “What’s the point in drying out, just to get wet again?” Aunt Eunice shook her head. “Go now, and dry off when you’re done.”

  “Here.” April handed me a sweater. “It’s not a raincoat, but if you tuck it under your shirt, it might be warm enough to put on after we get inside.”

  “You’re the best!” I stuffed the sweater under my tee shirt and giggled, envisioning myself four months pregnant. Ethan must have thought the same thing, because he lowered his head and gave me a kiss that was a little too hot for onlookers.

  Face flaming, I turned back to the crowd. “I’m ready to go now.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Joe stated. “The rain will most likely sizzle and shoot off steam when it hits the two of you.” He shook his head and led the way outside.

  April grinned and followed. I knew she was thinking of a way to get Joe to give her a kiss. My aunt and uncle bustled out next, leaving me and Ethan in the back. Ethan grabbed my hand and we dashed outside.

  We splashed through puddles and covered our faces with our arms in a vain attempt to keep the rain out of our eyes. Ethan pulled me under his arm like a mother chicken might cover its chick. It helped keep me dry a bit, but definitely slowed us down. I feared the sweater would be too wet to wear. We should have let Joe go without us and stayed in the warm cottage.

  Finally, the main building loomed in front of us like a sanctuary. Ethan shoved open the door. We stood in the foyer and dripped until Malia rushed toward us with her arm full of towels.

  “Bless you.” I took one and smiled while studying her face. I couldn’t convince myself that someone so sweet-looking could be a killer, but she had had the best access to the nuts and to Jamison’s room, not to mention the Aldrich’s. The cut brake line on the Franklin’s car did slow down my thoughts a bit, though. I tended to believe that if a woman was the killer, she had a special friend to do her dirty work.

  The dining room held the Wahine family, along with mine. From the scowl on Joe’s face, he’d been unsuccessful at his attempt to have a private conversation with Manano, who sat at a table across from Susan, a sappy smile on his face. Seriously, the man needed to get a grip. If he paid attention to half of the things that went on around him, he would know Susan and David are having a ‘thing’. The poor blind cop didn’t stand a chance.

  “What’s so funny?” Ethan handed the towel back to Malia, who trailed us like we’d hired her personally, then placed his warm hand on the small of my back and led me to the large table where the rest of the family sat.

  “Manano. He’s grasping at the proverbial fruit, except someone coated it with olive oil.” I reached for the nearby coffee pot, blessing whoever left it on the table for us. Soon, I had my trembling hands wrapped around a hot mug. Since when did it get chilly in Hawaii? Oh, the sweater? I pulled the slightly damp wool from under my shirt and draped it over my shoulders.

  “Why don’t you go up to the table and tell Manano you want to talk to him?” I asked Joe.

  “I did. He said he was busy.”

  “What about Mr. Wahine?”

  Joe shrugged. “I guess talking to him is better than wasting time here, except now I’m nestled in with my girl.” He grinned at April. “The wa
y the storm sounds, no one is going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll tell him what you discovered later.”

  What I discovered? Wasn’t it a joint effort? Aunt Eunice is the one who caught on to the person in the pictures being a woman. Why didn’t Joe just put a target on my back?

  The Wahine siblings strolled past the table, both sets of dark eyes fixated on me. Joe’s words probably had more effect on drawing them out than the clandestine meeting on the beach. Right as they passed the table, Malia dropped a tray of plates. I shrieked and almost dove under the table, certain my end had come. Instead, I half-rose in my chair. The gardener, Manuel, scowled and left the room.

  All four of them had seemed to listen intently as I questioned Joe. I placed a hand over my speeding heart and took a deep breath. Suspicious or not, it didn’t make a lot of sense. What would Manuel have to gain by killing the guests? He’d be out of a job. Same with Malia. If the place were sold, the Wahines would lose their family home. They were on the top of my suspect list. Now, to get the authorities, namely one enamored police officer, to pay attention to what was going on before someone else got killed.

  First cup of coffee down, I started on the next and watched the storm blow outside the picture window. What a ferocious beast. Still, the inactivity of sitting made me anxious. But, I’d promised God, sort of, that I would stay out of the investigation and let Joe handle things. Which meant, no matter how tempted I was, that I could not talk to Leroy anymore about his scam.

  Instead, I chose to watch every move Leroy and his sister made as they filled drinks, fetched plates of fruits, vegetables, and cheese, argued softly with their parents. How I wished I was a fly on the wall next to their table.

  Mr. and Mrs. Wahine looked nervous. Leroy looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Camilla stayed to her sullen self.

  I glanced back to the window. A lawn chair blew across the patio. I shuddered, wishing for my storm shelter back home. Did Hawaii get tornadoes? I’d have to look that up someday. Gracious, I was bored.

  Rain continued to fall in torrents and had found a leak. Water streamed down the inside of the window.

  Malia shrieked and dashed from the room, presumably to get towels. I jumped up to help. Anything to get the blood pumping. If I sat any longer, rigor mortis would settle in.

  I skidded to a halt in the hallway. The back door swung back and forth as the storm soaked the wood floor. Bracing myself against the chill, I moved forward and fought against the wind to close it, which amounted pretty much to a soaked petite woman battling a ferocious giant.

  Camilla hurried toward me. Wonderful. I could use some help.

  With a grin as evil as the Queen of Hearts when she wanted Alice’s head, Camilla two-hand shoved me outside then slammed the door behind us.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “You are one nosey woman.” She had to raise her voice for me to hear over the storm, but the gun in her hand spoke silent volumes. She motioned for me to walk ahead of her. “Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

  I’ve had guns pointed at me before. I knew not to do anything stupid. Head down, shoulders hunched, I battled the storm and headed toward a small shack on the perimeter of the property. Did she plan on hiding me until Ethan left? That wouldn’t work in any shape or form. My entire family would search the entire island until they found me. Dead or alive.

  Escape would be sweet, but I couldn’t outrun a bullet. There had to be something I could use as self-defense. Usually, I talked until the killer wanted to shoot themselves, but they wouldn’t work when we had to yell to hear each other. By the time we reached the shack, it might be too late.

  I glanced over my shoulder, hoping, praying Ethan or Joe, or I’d settle for Manano, were rushing up behind us. Nobody, other than a grimly marching Camilla. How could such a pretty girl be evil enough to murder people? What could possibly drive her to do that? I mean, she lived on Maui!

  “Inside.” Camilla jabbed me in the back with her gun, forcing me inside an 8 x 10 storage room.

  I immediately scanned the area closest to me for a weapon. Even a table leg would work. Anything to set her back long enough for me to flee.

  She stood in the doorway, the wind and rain lashing at her back. Why wasn’t she moving? It was almost as if she were trying to figure out what to do with me. Maybe she’d acted on the spur of the moment when kidnapping me. Was that a good thing or a bad thing, to take an opportunity without thinking?

  “You have no idea what to do with me, do you?” I crushed my arms in a vain attempt to warm myself.

  “Shut up.” Camilla scratched her head with the barrel of her pistol. Too bad it didn’t go off.

  “You know, God isn’t going to be happy with you when you stand before Him?”

  She pointed the gun back at me. “Don’t give me your psychoanalytic babble. I’m a Buddhist.”

  “Oh, well, okay.” I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment. “Isn’t Buddha a pacifist?” Is that a word?

  “I said to shut up!”

  Okay, there isn’t anything much worse than a slightly psychotic killer that is growing angrier by the second. I clamped my lips closed and continued my search for a weapon while trying to look like a frightened captive. Well, I was a captive, and I was frightened, but I didn’t want Camilla to know there was fight in me despite that fear. She might shoot me where I stood. I much preferred her confused.

  Camilla turned on an overhead light then closed the shack door. Her wide eyes and frantic pacing scared me more than the gun. The girl was definitely off her rocker. Back and forth, mumbling. I shivered and continued my search, made much easier than the light and the fact that everything was in boxes. Lord, help me.

  The storm seemed to be abating, which meant my family would come searching, if they hadn’t already. Once Malia showed up in the dining room after cleaning up the water in the hall, they might think I’d gone to the restroom. But even that didn’t take this long. I refused to have one of my family members shot and killed on my account.

  God smiled on me as Camilla turned and opened the door. She glanced out, and I barreled into her, knocking her and the gun to the ground. Without stopping, I dashed through the slow falling rain back to the main building. Camilla’s mad shrieks followed, spurring me faster.

  I reached for the back door. A bullet smashed into the frame by my head. I gasped and wrenched the door open. Without a backward glance, I raced into the dining room and smack into Ethan’s chest.

  He held me back at arm’s length. “What’s wrong? Where have you been?”

  I shoved against him. “Get into the dining room and tell Joe to get his gun.”

  “Summer?”

  I pushed harder. “Now!”

  Ethan grabbed my arm and we hurried to Joe’s side. I took a deep breath and shoved my wet hair out of my eyes. “It’s Camilla. She’s the killer. She took me to a shack out back and wanted to shoot me.”

  “My Camilla?” Mr. Wahine stood. “That’s impossible. She’s a docile girl.”

  “Not so much.” I plopped into a chair. “Joe, tell me you have your gun.”

  He pulled aside his tee-shirt, revealing a weapon tucked into the small of his back. “Manano?”

  “I’m here. Does Mrs. Banning go anywhere without causing a ruckus?”

  A gunshot fired into the ceiling rained plaster on our heads. “Everyone sit down!” A soaked and angry Camilla advanced.

  “Princess.” Mr. Wahine held his hands up, tears streaming down his face. “What are you doing?”

  “Sit down, Dad. I’m doing what you should have done.” She waved her gun hand at Leroy. “You, too, you spineless twit.”

  Mrs. Wahine covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Leroy sat in the chair next to her, his back amazingly stiff for someone without a spine. Camilla maneuvered until she had our group in her sights.

  “Your gun, officer.” She must have been talking to Manano, because Joe didn’t make a move toward his hidden weapon.
>
  “An officer doesn’t hand over his weapon.” Manano put a hand on the butt of the gun in its holster.

  “He does if he doesn’t want anyone else to die.” Camilla nodded. “Yes, I killed Jamison and Mrs. Aldrich. Had some help with Mr. Franklin, but I guess it’s all the same in the eyes of the law. My point is…I won’t hesitate to kill again.”

  Not necessarily true. She hesitated with killing me in the shed. Thank you, Lord. The fact that she’d done so before, might work in our favor.

  After Manano reluctantly handed over his weapon, she ordered everyone to sit. I scooted my chair as close as I could to Ethan and snuggled under his arm. Shivers had my body jerking like someone had stuck me with a live wire. Whether from fear or cold, I wasn’t sure. Mrs. Wahine’s sobs filled the room, ratcheting my anxiety level to an all new high.

  “Leroy, tell Mom and Dad what you did to start all this.” Camilla leaned against the doorjamb, reached into her pocket, then pulled out a cigarette. She lit it as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  “I’ve done nothing, compared to you.” His back lost all its rigidness as he slumped in his chair.

  “Still not man enough to come forward.” Camilla blew a smoke ring. “My dear brother, having overheard Mom and Dad talk about the dire financial straits of our childhood home, cooked up a scheme with the late Mr. Jamison, to rob some people of their hard-earned cash. Isn’t that right, baby brother?” Without waiting for him to answer, she took another puff on her smoke and spoke while holding her breath.

  “Jamison was a fool!” She exhaled sharply. “Threatening to expose everything when Mr. Meadows refused to pay up.” She pointed the gun at Uncle Roy.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I pushed back my chair and hurried to stand in front of him.

  “Get out of the way.” Uncle Roy pushed me aside then transferred his attention to Camilla. “If you want to shoot me, little girl, for wanting to know where my money would be going, then go right ahead. I never spend a chunk of dough like that without asking God’s direction first. Doesn’t mean you can go around killing people.”