“No, mahalo for your time.”
I wandered into the lobby wondering if Keith had run out on me without paying. If so, I’d be kicking myself for years to come. Most couples provide me with a credit card to pay their expenses, and then I present them with an invoice on the day of the wedding—a detailed receipt for their records even though their card has already been charged. Keith had been unwilling to give me a credit card. Instead, he’d offered a three thousand-dollar retainer with a promise to pay the bill in cash the day before the wedding. The retainer, along with his pricey on-island address of the biggest suite at the Ritz, had convinced me he’d be good for it.
Now I felt like an idiot for not demanding a card. I sat down heavily in the same comfy chair I’d occupied when I’d met with Keith the previous Friday. I carefully unsealed the flap on the envelope. The envelope was so chubby I wondered if he’d enclosed photos or maybe a rambling letter of excuses for ditching at the last minute.
Before I could allow myself to look at what was inside, I calculated my situation. The Lewis/Johnson wedding expenses were already at nearly five thousand dollars, even before the seventy-five-dollar-a-plate wedding dinner and the two-thousand-dollar photo shoot. Keith had given me three thousand, which meant I’d need more than five thousand to come out whole. I’d owe at least three thousand in cancellation fees and non-refundable costs like the printing. I shut my eyes and took out the contents of the envelope. Right away I could feel it wasn’t photos or pages of Ritz-Carlton stationery; it was cash. I clutched the wad in my fist for a few seconds, conjuring up good vibes. I vowed that if Keith had made me whole on the money I owed, I’d donate any extra to charity.
I looked down at the money. It was a thick wad—all hundred-dollar bills. I flicked through the stack, then looked up, wondering if it was wise to be flashing so much kala around in a public place. I shifted in my seat, allowing me to count the money while hiding it between my hip and the upholstered arm of the chair. It took me nearly five minutes to count it and then count it again.
***
The ride back to Hali’imaile ended up taking less than an hour but it felt like an eternity.
“Hey, what’re you doing home so early?” Steve said looking up from reading the morning paper. “You’ve got some messages over there by the phone.”
“I’ll bet one of them is from my buddy, Keith Lewis, blowing off his wedding this Saturday.”
“What? No, he didn’t call, and when I talked with him yesterday he seemed rarin’ to go. He even asked if we could maybe move the bride’s photo shoot up to Friday.”
“Well, they didn’t come to their countdown meeting this morning and when I went up to the Ritz to find out what happened, the entire wedding party had checked out.”
“Sounds like maybe Ken and Barbie got cold feet. But at least you’re covered with his credit card.”
“He didn’t give me a card.”
“Whoa, I thought you always got a credit card.”
“Normally I do, but in this case he insisted on paying in cash. He gave me a three grand retainer when we signed the contract, and promised to settle up the rest on Friday. But I’m okay. Look what he left me at the hotel desk.” I reached into my beach bag purse and pulled out the Ritz Carlton envelope. I removed the cash and fanned it out on the table.
Steve’s mouth gaped open. “Wow, how much you got there?”
“Ten thousand bucks.”
“Did he owe that much?”
“No, he owed only about half that. Once I pay my people and take my commission I’ll still be ahead almost four grand.”
“Are you giving him a refund?”
“I’ll offer if I hear from him, but for now it seems he’s in the wind. I’ve left three messages on his cell and he hasn’t called back. The only mainland address I have is a post office box in Del Mar, California. Which brings me to my next problem. Look at this.” I handed him the paper I’d found on my windshield.
“Holy crap, Pali, this is a ransom note!”
“Yeah, it sure looks like it. I left Glen Wong a voicemail but I haven’t heard back from him yet.”
“Pali, this is serious. They could be torturing that poor girl right now. I think you should call the police station and tell them you’ve got an emergency. Make them track Glen down immediately.”
He was right, of course. Sometimes I don’t trust my emotions. I’d learned long ago to tuck them away where they couldn’t bite me in the ass. But I’d been fretting over Crystal for almost a week. Finding the fingernails and then the ransom note had ramped my fret level up to near full-blown panic, but panic was an emotion I’d been taught to disregard. For me, panic was right up there with crying. It’s okay to want to do it, but not okay to actually do it.
CHAPTER 15
Nobody likes getting interrupted in the middle of something, but since Wong worked homicide, he was probably used to it by now.
“What’s it now, Ms. Moon?” he said when he called me four minutes after I’d called the station number on his business card. “I’m going to have to turn my phone off in a couple of minutes so this better be good.”
“I got a ransom note.”
“A ransom note,” he echoed. “And what does your ‘ransom note’ say, specifically?”
“You want me to read it to you?”
He blew out a breath that came across the phone line as a loud whoosh.
“Okay,” I said. I motioned for Steve to bring me the note and I read the four short lines to Wong. “Notice how he mentions US money. Oh, and although I read you the words ‘know’ and ‘where,’ he actually spelled them wrong. He left out the ‘k’ in ‘know’ and he left out the ‘h’ in ‘where.”
“What’s going on with you, Ms. Moon? Why are you still messing around with this? I was dead serious when I requested that you not concern yourself further with official police business.”
“Look, Detective, I’m not enjoying any of this. I don’t know why I was picked to be the go-between with all of this stuff, but I was. I’m concerned about the welfare of the woman they’re referring to in the ransom note, that’s all.”
“Ms. Moon, I’m about to board a flight to Honolulu on official business. But in the interest of showing good faith I’m willing to reschedule my trip on one condition: you promise to hand over the note and leave this entire case up to us. From this point on, I don’t want you snooping around, or telling kidnapping tales to your kung fu buddies. Do I have your word on that?”
“Absolutely. Look, I’ve got my own problems, Detective. My big Saturday wedding’s been cancelled. The only people I’ll be talking to are my suppliers when I call to pull the plug.”
“Huh, so that wedding got cancelled. Do you know why?”
“No clue, the bridal couple just up and left.”
“When?”
“What do you care? You said yourself this whole bridesmaid thing was a hoax.”
“Ms. Moon, I’m going to have to call my boss and rearrange my schedule in order to deal with your situation. I’d appreciate you granting me the courtesy of straight answers.”
“Okay, right after the ransom note was put on my car I went up to the Kapalua Ritz where they were staying and they’d already checked out. I don’t know why they left or where they’re going, but they paid me what they owed and they won’t take my calls, so I’m assuming that’s the end of it.”
“My plane’s already left without me. Give me a minute to clear things up with my superiors and I’ll come up there and get your so-called ransom note. Stay right there. When I arrive, be prepared to tell me everything you know about this situation so we can put this thing to rest.” He hung up.
“Wow, what a grouch,” I said to Steve. “I don’t know why you think that guy’s so hot.”
“I didn’t say he was ‘hot.’ I said he was—oh, forget it. So, what’s going on?”
“Well, mister hot-or-not Glen Wong’s coming up here to get the note. And—I’m quoting here—‘put th
is thing to rest.’ Not one word of concern about Crystal.”
“He’s probably playing it close to the vest,” said Steve. “Doesn’t want you to get a big head ‘cuz you’ve brought him something important after he blew you off before.”
I shrugged.
“No, think about it,” he went on, “they’re gonna have to start taking Crystal’s disappearance seriously now. They’ll probably call in the FBI or something.”
Steve and I sat in the living room until Wong’s car pulled into the driveway. When Steve got up to go to his room, he put a hand on my shoulder.
“Let the police handle this, Pali. Don’t make it your problem.”
I nodded. I’d promised to butt out, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do everything in my power to keep tabs on their efforts to find Crystal and bring her back unscathed.
Outside, two car doors slammed shut. I peeked out the window. Wong had brought along a partner.
“Hey,” I said to Wong as I opened the door. “It’s just a sheet of paper. Probably won’t require two of you guys to haul it out of here.”
“Pali Moon, this is my partner, Detective Bert Konomanu.” Konomanu was holding a soft-sided briefcase with both hands. He bobbed his head in greeting.
“You any relation to Noni Konomanu?” I’d gone to school with Noni, but she was no longer a friend. It had to do with her trying to steal my business earlier in the year.
“Yeah, she’s my cousin on my dad’s side. She’s living over in Honolulu now, working for Tank Sherman.”
I invited them in and offered them something to drink. Both asked for water. I went into the kitchen to get the water and pick up the ransom note. The cash was still fanned out on the table. I gathered it up and stuffed it in my purse.
“Nice house,” Wong said as I came back to the living room. “How long you been living here, Ms. Moon?”
“A couple of years. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. We’re supposed to put the public at ease by starting off with small talk. It’s part of the chief’s new ‘customer service’ program.” He turned to Konomanu as if expecting him to contribute some idle chit chat of his own, but Wong’s partner stared straight ahead—silent.
“Okay, then, let’s get down to business. May I see the note?” Wong pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pants pocket and snapped them on his hands. Konomanu did the same.
“I’m afraid I’ve been handling this paper all morning,” I said. My voice came out in a panicky tone I hadn’t expected. “I mean, my fingerprints are probably all over the thing.”
“We watch CSI, Ms. Moon. Our technicians can deal with ruling out known prints. Your fingerprints are still on file from the last time you called us for help.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He carefully opened the folded note and leaned over so he and his partner could read it at the same time. Then Konomanu extracted a plastic bag from his briefcase and held it open while Wong dropped the note inside. Konomanu sealed the top and then took out a felt pen and wrote on the bag. He carefully laid the bag on top of a stack of papers already in the briefcase. Wong and I watched the whole procedure in silence.
Before zipping the briefcase closed, Konomanu yanked off his gloves and Wong did the same. They stuffed them in their left pants pockets. Then they both took out notepads and ballpoint pens from an inside pocket of their jackets and clicked the pens at the same time. They’d obviously been partners for some time—it was like watching a tightly choreographed Cirque-du-Soleil pas de deux.
“Okay, let’s begin,” said Wong.
Two hours later I wearily closed the door. I’d told them everything I could remember about Keith and Nicole, even throwing in Farrah’s claims of bad auras and chilling tarot readings. After they left, I felt even more ill at ease. I flipped the lock on the door. Strange—the last time I’d been careful to lock my front door was the first time I’d ever met Detective Glen Wong.
***
The next morning, I drove to Lahaina anticipating the miserable task of notifying my vendors that Saturday’s wedding had been cancelled. I made a list, and prioritized it by who needed to know first. Keahou topped the list since she typically started making her cakes three to four days before the wedding. The guy I’d signed up to perform the ceremony brought up the rear. He used a fill-in-the-blanks script and typically showed up only a few minutes before the start time. His contribution was rarely moving or eloquent, but he was a plus-size local guy, with the big kahuna look that Keith and Nicole had insisted on.
I clomped up the back stairs to my shop and unlocked the door. The fish smell didn’t seem as robust as it sometimes was, but maybe I was just getting used to it. When I got inside, the light on my answering machine was blinking. The first two calls were vendors checking in, and the third call was from Trish, my prospective December bride. “Hi wedding lady! You must really be a busy gal. Seems we’re playing phone tag here. Anyhow, I need to talk with you about me and Buddy’s Christmas-time wedding. Call me.” She left her number.
I started dialing Trish’s number, then checked my watch and realized it was five o’clock in the morning over on the mainland. As eager as Trish seemed to lay claim to Buddy, a crack of dawn phone call probably wouldn’t be appreciated.
I dialed Keahou instead.
“Hey, girl,” she said before I could launch into my no-go speech. “I was going to call you this morning. Don’t worry, I got everything ready. I special ordered those nice papayas from the Big Island and they came in yesterday. They’re perfect. Oh, and I already baked the groom’s cake. Komo says it’s my best boob job ever.”
I told her the groom had cancelled wedding.
“Oh, too bad. He dump her or she dump him?”
“I’m not sure what’s going on. They took off before I could talk to them. But don’t worry, he paid me. How much do I owe you?”
“Hey, stuff happens. Mai hopohopo—don’t you worry about me. Do you want some Big Island papayas? I got two dozen here, and Komo and me will only be able to eat three or four before they go hauna.”
I insisted on paying her for the groom’s cake and for the twenty papayas she’d had flown in from Hilo. She refused any money for her time and trouble.
“You the one paying for this crazy boobie cake, then you should be the one eating it,” she said. “When can you come and get it?”
I promised I’d drive up to Kula before noon. Then I went on to the next call. By ten o’clock I’d talked to everyone on my list. My cancellation charges totaled almost nineteen hundred dollars. Even after rounding it up to two grand, I still had a whopping five thousand dollars left over.
I convinced myself it was okay to keep at least some of the money. After all, when I’d made my pact to donate the excess to charity I’d never dreamed it would be so much. I settled on giving half to a worthwhile cause and putting the other half in my skinny savings account. After all, wasn’t I a worthwhile cause?
Unfortunately, as everyone knows, nothing good comes from broken promises. As Farrah would say, bad karma is way worse than bad luck. Looking back, I wish I’d handed the entire ten grand over to the local women’s shelter or the food bank and paid my vendor expenses out of my own pocket. Maybe if I hadn’t tried to scam the universe I could’ve headed off a lot of what was about to unfold.
CHAPTER 16
The ride up to Keahou’s bakery in Kula was peaceful even though my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Had Keith somehow known about the ransom note? Was he worried whoever snatched Crystal might later come for Nicole? How much did he know, and more importantly, what would the kidnappers do to Crystal now that he’d taken off?
“There you are,” Keahou sang out as I peered through the window in her kitchen door. “E como mai—come in, come in.” She’d boxed up the groom’s cake and had a big paper bag, bulging with the almost-ripe papayas, ready for me on the table.
“You hear anything from your bridal couple?” she asked, gesturing for me to sit do
wn while she cut a thick slice of cinnamon bread and placed it on a plate before me.
“Nah. They’re long gone, probably on their way back to the mainland. I don’t even have a home address for them.”
“Huh. What address did they put on their marriage license application?”
I looked up from buttering my bread. “That’s what’s strange. They used a post office box number. Almost like they didn’t want anyone to know where they lived.”
We talked for about ten minutes and then the timer went off on her stove. “Oh, I gotta get that out of the oven,” she said. “Komo’s niece’s boyfriend is having his twenty-one birthday and I’m baking a cake for the party.”
“Busman’s holiday, huh?”
She squinted at me. “No, I think he sells ads for KPOA radio. Not a bus driver.”
I considered explaining the goofy expression, but then thought better of it. Besides, I needed to pick up the absurdly expensive bridal gown Nicole had left behind. The seamstress had been none too pleased to hear the bride had abandoned it, and she’d sounded nervous about getting paid. I’d promised to bring her the money and pick up the dress, but I had no use for it—my garage was already bursting with cold-feet castoffs from “Let’s Get Maui’d.” Farrah was always buying and selling stuff online, maybe I’d ask her to help me find it a good home on Craigslist or e-bay.
I picked up the pink cake box with one hand and hefted the bag of papayas in the other. “Mahalo for being so nice about this, Keahou. It seems I’m always cancelling on you. This is the third time this year.”
“Oh, these things are hard to see coming. It’s better they decide not to do it then go ahead and be sorry later, eh?”
“Yeah. But I wish they wouldn’t wait until the last minute.”
“This not last minute. Last minute is like what happened to my sister’s sweet baby girl. You remember her—my niece Kulakai? Anyhow, her man says he has to go to the lua—how you say, ‘the john’—ten minutes before the wedding supposed to start and then he beat feet right on out the back door of the church. That was stinky thing to do. Kulakai still spits on the ground when anybody say his name.”
Livin' Lahaina Loca Page 11
