Prospect for Murder (Natalie Seachrist Hawaiian Cozy Mystery 1)

by Burrows-Johnson, Jeanne; June, Yasamine;

  “Uh, hi. Is this TJ?” I asked.

  “Yes, it is,” she replied tentatively.

  “You’re Ariel Harriman’s friend, right?

  “Yes, I am. I’m Theresa Jenkins. I’ve been trying to get her since I returned from a vacation to Hilo, but I haven’t been able to reach her.”

  Oh, dear. This was the part of the conversation I dreaded, being the one to tell her Ariel was dead. And so I did, as gently as I could.

  After a moment, she responded in a shocked voice. “You say you’re her aunt?”

  “Actually, I’m her grandaunt. Her grandfather is my brother.”

  “That’s Nathan, right.”

  “Yes. Nathan raised Ariel and her twin Brianna after their parents died.”

  “I can’t believe this. I haven’t known her long. I’m a transfer student from UCLA. We met on the UH tennis courts. We’d played a few impromptu doubles matches during spring semester and gone out for dinner a couple of times. When we got to talking about our educational goals and plans for the next couple of years, we found we had a lot in common and decided we’d look for an apartment to share.

  “I wondered why I hadn’t heard from her after she’d looked at an apartment we’d heard about. I tried her cell phone, but only got her voicemail. I’ve met a couple of her friends over drinks, but didn’t get their full names. And when I tried looking on-line and in the phone book, I didn’t find a listing under ‘Nathan Harriman.’”

  “That’s because Nathan is a social worker. For privacy and security reasons, he’s never had his home phone number listed in a phone book, and his office number is only found in professional directories.”

  “Well, that explains it. Please tell Mr. Harriman how sorry I am and that I did try to find out what was going on.”

  “TJ, I’m sorry I’ve had to tell you about Ariel’s death. But, if you have a moment, I’d really appreciate your answering a couple of questions—since we’re still trying to piece together the details of what happened to her.”

  “I’m glad to help, but I don’t know what I could say that will be useful.”

  “Well, sometimes we know things without realizing it. Would you mind telling me about your last conversation with her?”

  “Sure. It was on Friday, a couple of weeks ago. We were talking about the apartment we were supposed to preview. I got delayed, so she had to look at it by herself. She was going to check out the property and its amenities to see if it would work for us.”

  “Mmm. About what time was that?”

  “It had to be around three-thirty. I felt really bad about standing her up. I’d gotten called into my professor’s office, and couldn’t get away. Ariel had texted me a few times, and finally tried calling me. Once I was free, I called her back.”

  “About how long did you talk?”

  “It couldn’t have been more than three minutes or so. We’d already looked at a couple of other places and agreed on what we could afford—with or without utilities. We’d also talked about the features we wanted. I was totally comfortable with her deciding whether we should take the place. I agreed to send her a check for my share of the deposit if she wanted to go ahead with a year’s lease.”

  Not wanting to break her train of thought, I merely said, “Mmhm.”

  “After that, we talked about the vacation I was going on that night with my boyfriend. We were even joking about the lingerie she’d helped me buy. I remember her teasing me…”

  At that point, TJ’s voice broke up and I wished I was there with her to comfort her. But TJ might have been the last person Ariel ever spoke with and I needed to push her a bit further.

  “TJ, I’m sorry this is so upsetting. But, please…did Ariel say anything else? Even if you don’t think it’s relevant, there’s no way of knowing what might help the police in their investigation.”

  “It was just a personal joke. She said, ‘So, I can just imagine how cute you’ll look prancing around in that red bustier—and what do you propose doing after that?’ Oh, God, I just can’t believe she’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry to have to ask you anything else, but how did you learn about the Makiki Sunset Apartments? Do you or Ariel know someone who lives there?”

  “No. But I had heard someone mention it in passing. Then one day when Ariel and I were looking at a bulletin board listing apartments for rent, we saw a business card for the complex. We just took a chance there might be an opening, and there was.”

  “Do you remember who you spoke to? Was it the manager, or a management company?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know. Ariel set up the appointment.”

  “I see. Well, thank you so much for helping me, TJ. It means a lot to know what Ariel was planning, and that she had a new friend to share her next adventures with. I should tell you that an HPD detective will probably be calling you soon.”

  “Oh, sure. I’ll help any way I can.”

  We ended our call with my promise to let her know when the memorial was scheduled. Except for a few of my close friends, this was the most emotional notification of Ariel’s death I had needed to make. For the most part, it had been Nathan who had the sad duty of consoling Ariel’s many friends and colleagues.

  Looking down at my scribbled notes from our conversation, I realized where Al Cooper got the idea that Ariel was gay. When he was getting Mrs. Espinoza’s groceries from his car, he must have overheard the girls talking. And while Ariel was joking about TJ’s lingerie and getaway with her boyfriend, Al had thought he was listening to a conversation suggesting Ariel was having a romantic relationship with another girl.

  Even if Al was not responsible for Ariel’s death, the hatred he expressed about another human being was beyond my comprehension. I could easily envision his inner dialogue. I heard her talking to that girlfriend of hers. Sounded real cozy, if you know what I mean. Against the Good Book it is. That’s what comes of women not following their God given calling as wives and mothers.

  The details might be wrong, but that was the essence of the venom he was spewing out when Keoni and I overheard him. With all his questions about biblical scripture, I could tell his personal perspective had little to do with Mrs. Espinoza or their church. He had come up with his vile condemnation of Ariel, and all gays, on his own.

  For a while, I sat without focus, feeling the emptiness that comes with the death of someone close. Picking up my phone again, I dialed John Dias to let him know I had found TJ. After thanking me, he confirmed her full name and cell number and told me that Nathan and I would be hearing from Marty Soli very soon. I had almost fallen asleep when my phone rang.

  “Hi, Natalie. This is Marty Soli, at the Coroner’s office. I’m glad I caught you in person.

  “John Dias said you’d be calling.”

  “I tried Nathan, but he wasn’t in and I hated to leave an impersonal message, so I said that I’d try calling you. When John and I spoke earlier, he said he’s hit a wall with the one person of interest he was investigating. Since our office has completed every available test, I could see no reason to delay in releasing Ariel’s death certificate, or her body.”

  “I see,” I replied softly.

  “If you or Nathan will provide authorization to your family’s mortuary, we’ll facilitate immediate release to them.”

  That made it official. “I really appreciate your calling me, Marty. I’m pretty sure Nathan’s in a private consultation with a client, but he should be through shortly. I know he’s made arrangements with Sandwich Island Mortuary, so you should get the paperwork almost immediately.”

  “I didn’t realize he was still working, Natalie.”

  “He doesn’t have a full-time practice. But some of his former colleagues occasionally need a friendly shoulder, or should I say ‘couch?’ He also sees a few referrals. It’s a small practice, so he has an office in his home.”

/>   We concluded with a promise that Marty would hear from Nathan or the mortuary within an hour. I felt somewhat numb as I started to shut off my cell phone. Despite all the calls I had made and received that day, I had not looked at the time or date on either my phone or computer. Staring at the lit screen, I realized it was Friday…exactly two weeks since Ariel had fallen to her death. Two weeks, and we were no closer to knowing what had happened to her than when we were notified she had died.

  I have always considered myself a positive person, but I could see nothing positive coming out of what Nathan, Brianna and I were experiencing. Until I make that final trek into the bright white tunnel, I doubt I will have a clear understanding of the deaths that have touched Nathan and me. As I started to dissolve into tears once again, Miss Una arrived to occupy my lap and bring me the solace of her soft fur.

  At least now our family could finalize our plans and notify everyone about Ariel’s memorial. As though on cue, my phone rang. I saw the incoming call was from Brianna.

  “Oh Aunt Natalie, I’m so glad I got you. Grandpa Nathan didn’t answer when I called earlier, and I wanted to let you know I’m coming home tomorrow!”

  “Oh, honey, that’s… wonderful,” I said—barely pausing to think about the concerns her grandfather and I had about her safety. “I’m sorry we haven’t spoken more, but I was about to call both you and your Grandpa because I’ve learned we can have Ariel’s memorial in a few days. How did you know to come?”

  She almost giggled. “Well, you’re not the only one with ‘the gift.’ I can’t say I had a vision, but two days ago I knew I had to get home as soon as possible. All I had to do was finish one project and convert my second course to independent study. I’m free until the fall. So I’m coming in tomorrow evening, on a ticket with an open-ended return.”

  I noted her flight information and confirmed that either Nathan or I would be at the Honolulu Airport to greet her. We signed off and I debated calling Nathan next. Not knowing how long that call might last, I opted to try Keoni’s cell phone first. Since my call went directly to voicemail, he might have been on the line.

  “Keoni, this is Natalie. You don’t need to return this call, but I wanted to let you know we’ve heard from Marty Soli and we’ll be able to hold Ariel’s memorial soon. I’ll call you back when Nathan and I have everything scheduled.”

  After disconnecting, I dialed Nathan’s office line. If I was transferred to voicemail immediately, I would know he was still in consultation.

  “Oh, Natalie. I’m glad you called. When I got out of my last session with a client, I found a message from Marty Soli, who said he’d try to reach you.”

  “Yes, Nathan. Marty called right after I notified Lieutenant Dias about Al Cooper.” I paused to control my emotions and wipe my eyes. “Without going into all the details of the paperwork, Ariel’s body is being released by the Coroner’s office. You need to give the funeral home permission for transport and cremation. I told Marty that I thought you’d completed arrangements with Sandwich Island Mortuary and should be able confirm instructions with the ME’s Office today.”

  “Thanks. You’re right, dear. All I have to do is send a fax giving the mortuary permission to implement our agreement and they will forward it to the ME’s office.”

  “That’s good, Nathan. Oh, you won’t believe this, but Bri just called to say she’ll be arriving home tomorrow evening.”

  “What? How did she know to come? Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said.

  “You’ve got that right. She said she didn’t receive any out-of-this-world message, but she knew it was time to come home.”

  “Well, I guess that’s understandable. That’s pretty much the way my ‘gift’ works too, Natalie. You get the visions; I get the kennings.”

  “Was it Mom or Grandma who had both gifts?” I asked.

  “You know Mom. There was a lot she never talked about, including that,” Nathan replied.

  In the midst of our sorrow, it was good to laugh, even mildly for a few moments. We spoke for a while, with the most positive interaction we had had since Ariel’s passing. We may not have been happy in the conventional sense, but at least we had something to focus on. With people coming from both the mainland and neighbor islands, we set the following Wednesday as the day to celebrate Ariel’s life. We had already made initial notifications, so all we had to do was confirm the times and places of our two events.

  The next topic Nathan and I addressed was Brianna’s homecoming. I would have loved to be at the airport to greet her, but Nathan lives directly across the Ko`olau Mountains from the airport. So it seemed more logical, and sensitive, to have him pick her up alone. Besides, by the time she arrived, it would be the middle of the night for her biologically and she could turn in early. Knowing she might have plans for re-connecting with friends prior to the memorial, Nathan and I decided I would see her sometime on Sunday.

  Before we hung up, we confirmed our lists of invitees. With the bulk of arrangements remaining in Nathan’s hands, I said I would call John Dias and Marty Soli and let them know that Nathan was having the mortuary pick up Ariel’s body. In addition, I called the learning center where I was to begin volunteering. After apologizing for having to decline working on a fixed schedule, I offered to serve as a substitute tutor for students facing exam deadlines.

  Moving on to memorial invitations, I spoke to or emailed everyone on my portion of the invitation list. Several friends reminded me of other people who had known and cared for Ariel. I was delighted when they offered to invite them to the beachside service.

  Another call I placed was to Margie O`Hara. Knowing the turmoil I was facing, she and Dan had left a fluid window in their schedule for our getting together. Although there would not be time for a private meeting, I was very pleased when she confirmed they could attend the beachside service before catching their plane home on Wednesday night.

  With the weekend at hand, I would not be able to go to the Hawai`i State Archives until the following week. However, I could perform some research at the library. In preparation, I had emailed a couple of questions to the museum that was once the home of Queen Lili`u`okalani. Washington Place, a mansion in Greek revival style, was now the repository of many artifacts from the Queen’s life. I am grateful that the curator is generous about replying to inquiries from the media and the public. Luckily, she responded almost immediately.

  That evening I simplified dinner for both Miss Una and me. After pouring myself a glass of Nugan Estate Chardonnay, I decided that salmon pâté from the deli was a good starting place for both of our meals. Mine accompanied a salad of baby spinach and Maui onions, while my feline buddy consumed hers unembellished. Taking my plate to the living room, I turned on the evening news. The national headlines offered nothing of note and I concluded my supper in time to hear the opening theme music of Wheel of Fortune.

  As I placed my dishes in the sink, my phone rang again. I disliked the thought of making lengthy explanations to people I had missed speaking with earlier, so I was relieved that the caller was Keoni.

  “Hi, there. I’m so grateful it’s you. It’s been a marathon of phone calls today, but I wanted to speak with you before turning in for the night.”

  “Then I’m glad I called when I did. I didn’t want to crowd you by checking back too soon. But with you sitting there without a car, I wondered if there is anything I can help you with this weekend.”

  “It’s good of you to offer, Keoni. But I’ve pared my activities down and I think I’m set for a while. Let me catch you up on the schedule for the next several days. Most importantly, Ariel’s memorial will be at three p.m. on Wednesday, at the Kailua Beach Park boat launch. After that, there’ll be a sunset celebration of her life at Nathan’s home.

  “Brianna called today and said she knew it was time to come home. She’s arriving tomorrow evening. I’ve decided to do a bit of re
search at the State Library tomorrow, for which I can easily catch the bus. And before you offer to take me out to the airport to welcome Brianna home, I think Nathan and she should have some time alone. So I won’t see her until Sunday, when she comes over to finish our plans for Wednesday.”

  “Sounds good. I’m sure you and Nathan are relieved that you can move ahead with your plans for the memorial.”

  “You’re right Keoni. Speaking of which, I’d love for you to meet Brianna prior to Wednesday. Why don’t you join us for lunch on Sunday? At about one o`clock?”

  “I’d be pleased to join you, Natalie. Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m keeping everything as simple as possible.”

  “Thanks again for including me. I hope you’ll be able to get some rest now that you are able to hold the memorial.”

  I was grateful to sleep peacefully through the night with no dreams and awake with a clear sense of purpose. In a short time, I was ready to depart for another day in downtown Honolulu. After a quick bus ride, I dropped off a portfolio of our family’s pictorial history at the photo shop that specialized in unique mountings. Then I was ready to attack the library’s newspaper morgue with vigor. Opening my laptop, I found a reply from the curator of Washington Place. With her answers to my questions, and lists of research topics in my files, I was ready to begin a long day of research.

  Since TJ had confirmed that neither she nor Ariel knew anyone at the apartments, there was nothing else I could think of to research about the complex itself. Pearl Wong’s family was the single topic that remained unchecked, but I was certain that neither she nor her sister had been involved in my grandniece’s death. The only other family member I knew of was Jade’s stepson. Therefore, I began by skimming through newspapers of the nineteen-sixties and seventies seeking references to the Wong-Bishop family—particularly, Richard Bishop’s birth announcement. With a common surname like “Bishop,” the absence of a middle name, and a vague timeline for his possible birth, I got nowhere with this line of inquiry. I did, however, find a later reference to the marriage of Méilingyù Wong and banker Richard K. Bishop II.