by Aysia Amery
“No kidding.”
“Anyway, there’s twelve of us here, not ten.”
Jemma was right. But even though it was a crazy notion to think someone might recreate the story this weekend, I felt uneasy.
I was sure glad I remembered to bring my melatonin. I was gonna need it tonight.
Chapter 3
After breakfast, we headed out to the stables. Everyone signed their disclaimer forms, and with helmets secured on our heads, each straddled a horse.
Floyd, the scholar, insisted on choosing his own.
“We pick our horses to match the rider,” Kat explained.
“I have riding experience, so I’d like this one.” He pointed to a sleek and shiny black stallion that outshone the rest.
“This is the one I want,” he reiterated.
Kat sighed and gave Evan an ‘Oh god, we’ve got a pain in the butt guest’ look.
Looked like Mr. Obsessing About His Horse got his way. He mounted the black stallion.
As we waited for the last person to mount, some of the readied horses drank from a large bucket. Others stood so still that if birds flew overhead they might’ve bombed them.
“Did anyone forget their horse’s name?” Kat asked. Mine was Firefly. Jemma had Thunderballs. I let out a laugh when Kat told her that. Especially after Jemma asked if she heard right regarding the ‘s’ at the end.
“Okay, good. Now remember, heels down and toes up. Kick their sides and do a ‘smooch, smooch’”—she sounded out the kissing sound—“to get them going if they hold up. If they wanna go where you don’t want to, pull up on the reins.” She demonstrated the action as she spoke.
Jenn’s and Chris’ horses parted ways and let out squeals.
“Whoa.” Chris guided his horse away from Jenn’s.
“The horses have pecking orders,” Kat informed the group.
She named which horses were buddies and which needed their space from each other. Seemed Firefly got along with most of the others except Shadow (Nadine’s) and Lehua (Owen’s). I made a mental note not to get too close to them.
And we were off!
I have to say, riding on horseback through this valley full of lush tropical greenery, the taro patches, and with the backdrop of the mountains was an amazing experience.
We ventured through areas where hiking on foot would’ve been difficult for most. We traipsed through sloshy ground, even crossed streams and what seemed like rivers.
For me, riding high on such a beautiful and majestic beast gave me a rush and made the journey more exhilarating. Hearing the sound of their trotting hooves on stones prickled my skin with goosebumps. I’ve loved that sound ever since I was a kid.
“Good boy, Firefly.” I stroked his mane.
Every now and then we’d see wild horses grazing. Were the ones we rode wild like these once? There were so many of them out here.
While Kat headed the group up front, Evan took up the rear. At times he moved to the middle, leaving the rear to Sam. For some reason, her horse always lagged. I was glad I didn’t get that horse.
At one point I was directly behind Jemma, and as her attention focused on the scenery, my eyes zoomed onto her right foot. It was smack dab under the other horse’s okole.
“Jemma, you’d better move—” I tried to warn, but it was too late.
“Ahhhhh!” she yelled, along with an expletive that denoted what had expelled on her foot.
“I was trying to warn you,” I called out.
I truly felt for her, but at the same time I wanted to burst out laughing. But I didn’t dare.
I watched her shuck off the horse dung with a shake of her foot. Unfortunately, its consistency was closer to ice cream than sawdust briquettes, so those stubborn remnants refused to oblige her and stuck firmly to her new white walking shoe.
Maybe that’s why they told us to wear covered footwear. Ha!
“Don’t you dare tell Reese about this,” she yelled back at me.
“I ain’t promising,” I hollered, sporting a devilish grin. Too bad she couldn’t see me.
Lucky for Jemma, we ended up trudging through another river-like area where the water rose to dampen our ankles. Hopefully she got her foot washed off.
I found it interesting how some of the roads turned into streams, then back into roads again.
Jenn and her horse, Hibiscus, were to the right of me yet slightly ahead.
“My husband works for an electrical engineering firm on Maui. What kind of engineering company do you work for?” I asked.
“Mechanical engineering,” she replied.
She fell back to let me catch up until I was by her side.
“You’ve been working there a long time. You must enjoy it there.”
“It’s okay. It’s like marriage, I guess. When you’re used to something for so long, it’s hard to make a change and have to start all over again. You sort of settle into a comfortableness that even if you’re not happy, you hesitate to leave it because something else could be worse.”
Interesting analogy.
“You mentioned in your introduction that you weren’t married, but were you before?” Sounded like her analogy came from experience.
“Yes, I was. I’ve been divorced for 22 years.”
“Do you have kids?” She hadn’t mentioned that either.
“No kids.”
Firefly snorted.
Bending forward, I stroked my horse on the side of his mane. “Good boy, Firefly. You’re doing just fine.”
“So nobody’s captured your heart again, I take it?” I refocused on Jenn.
She didn’t answer. Was I getting too personal?
“Someone did a long time ago.” It was as though her thoughts revisited that time. “He died though.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“An accident. He was drunk, swerved a car, and crashed head-on into a tree.” Her voice didn’t crack. Time healed her grief, I guess.
“That was twenty years ago today actually.” Solemnity possessed her tone.
I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to something like that?
“Sounds like he still lives in your heart.”
“I’ve never loved another because of him.”
Some things are hard to move on from.
We chatted for a while more, and this time she turned the questions on me. I told her about Blaine, how we met, and the usual stuff you tell people when they want to know such things.
On the ride back to the ranch, David Withers, the smiley politician, saddled beside me where Jenn had been.
“I noticed you don’t like orange food,” I said with a hint of amusement in my voice.
“It’s due to something that happened a long time ago,” he said, smiling again.
“Care to share?” I asked.
“Well, I might have to kill you after.” This time he grinned rather maniacally. Picture Jack Nicholson in The Shining saying... ‘Here’s Johnny!’
Yeow. That gave me the willies. My brows jacked up an inch.
“Oh. Forget I asked.” I sure hoped he was joking.
“Forgotten,” he said.
Well that was a short-lived conversation. But after that weird grin he gave me, that was fine by me.
If a Menehune goes missing from that table later, I’ll know who to put my suspicions on first. I just hoped it wasn’t me lying dead.
Why was I thinking these thoughts? I’ve got to stop letting my imagination run wild.
The trotting of hooves approached from behind. Evan passed me on the right. Sam now took up the rear about twenty feet from me. I waved, and she smiled back.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and up ahead I could see the ranch. The ride back seemed faster than going out. Jemma ended up right in front of me again. Thunderballs’ black tail swished back and forth like a ponytail when a little girl bounced on her step.
There was a cool breeze rustling through the leaves. A monarch butterfly fluttered by. I watched it cross int
o the open field, and then I closed my eyes to let my ears tune in to the sounds of the horses’ hooves clopping, clopping, clopping over the terrain.
How peaceful it felt out there at that moment, just riding along at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sunshine and the cool autumn air, listening to—
Braaaaaaaapp.
What the...? My eyes popped open. The sound was like a gigantic zipper slowly opening. Then it hit me right in the nostrils. The smell. Like a cloud of sulfur blanketing my face.
“Gads, Jemma! Thunderballs just farted!”
My assistant burst out in laughter.
“That’s a good boy, Thunderballs,” she said, stroking him like a fond pet. “Guess he’s getting back at you for teasing me earlier.”
“Well now I’m forced to tell Reese about your poop encounter.”
“Ah, c’mon, Ginger. I can’t be held responsible for Thunderballs’ bad manners.” She was half-turned around, facing me.
I didn’t answer her.
It was so nice having blackmailing material on my friends.
As we headed in on the main stretch, for some inexplicable reason my intuition told me to turn around to check on Sam.
Huh? She wasn’t there.
I counted the horses upfront. Ten plus mine makes eleven.
Oh my god.
Where the heck did Sam go?!
Chapter 4
“Hold up! We lost Sam,” I yelled out.
The line of horses came to a halt.
Kat and Evan galloped back toward me.
“When did you see her last?” Kat asked me.
“I don’t know. Maybe fifteen minutes or so ago? I saw her behind me after Evan moved up to the middle.”
“You go look for her. I’ll take the group back to the ranch,” Kat said to Evan. She glanced up at the sky. “Looks like it’s gonna rain. Maybe even storm.”
That’s the thing about the Hawaiian Islands: the weather can change with a snap of a finger. One minute you’re looking at blue skies and a few white puffy clouds, then the next minute a dark gray blanket rolls in and poof, there’s a downpour. And not only that, it could be doing that in one area of the island and be dry as an unopened package of sponge in another. I kid you not.
I’ve even driven down the road where the windshield wipers clacked away, then as though passing through another dimension, wham, the wipers now squeaked. But that was the weather’s moods out here in the middle of the Pacific.
Back at the ranch, we changed and freshened up. Although my body felt cleansed and refreshed, my mind was sunk deep in mud about our missing psychiatrist. It perturbed me.
Just before we headed for the kitchen to prepare lunch, Jemma and I stopped in front of the library room door. Hmm, it was no longer ajar. We had left it as we found it the last time, so somebody had been through here.
I turned the knob.
Drats! It was locked.
Did somebody know we had snooped in there last night and made it off-limits to us?
I had been anxious to see if someone removed one of the Menehune pieces. Now we had no access to that room.
Jemma and I looked at each other and frowned.
Even though it was a major disappointment, I had to admit, a part of me was afraid to know what we’d find on that table with the Menehune figurines. If a piece was indeed gone, holy Agatha Christie creepiness—we’d be in for the nightmare of our lives.
* * *
After lunch, Kat’s weather predictions were spot on. Wind and rain battered the windows like zombies dying to get in to chomp our meaty flesh.
While most of us gathered in the living room, a couple of the guests had adjourned to their quarters.
“Do you have a radio?” Chris asked Kat. “This storm seems to have come out of nowhere. If there’s a tsunami warning, we need to know about it.”
“Yes, I’ll go get it.”
They needed a cell tower out here. I doubted that would happen though. It would be a landmark hated by all the locals in the valley but one that any visitor to this area would want as a convenience.
I had to admit, I was spoiled when it came to needing technology. On the one hand, I’d hate to spoil nature’s beauty, yet on the other hand, I couldn’t live without the conveniences. It’s a dilemma.
After two hours had passed, Evan walked in with his long, wet black hair strewn over his eyes. His fingers raked it back from his face.
“The weather is treacherous out there. I had to come back.”
I wanted to bite my fingernails.
“No sign of Sam?” I asked.
But I knew his answer. She’d be by his side if he had found her.
He shook his head.
My eyes found Jemma’s, and she had that look she always did when nervousness rang her doorbell. I was right there with her on that one.
“We have to stay put until we know more about where this storm is going,” Kat said.
“This place feels like it’s gonna blow away. Have you weathered storms out here before?” someone asked.
“This ranch was rebuilt after the 1949 tsunami and has stood standing since. It’ll take the weather,” Kat replied.
“I sure hope so.” Reporter Nadine nibbled on her bottom lip.
“What if there’s another tsunami?” Jenn’s voice hit a high pitch.
“We’ll have to get to high ground if that happens.”
“Oh my god!” Nadine was frazzled.
Yeah, she didn’t look like a hiker. I’d be worried about her if that time came. Several others wouldn’t make it up a steep hike either. Heck, I might not make it. The last hike Blaine and I endeavored, I huffed and puffed while my heart beat like a runaway locomotive, and my nostrils kept dripping with...
Okay, that’s enough imagery. You don’t need to picture too much detail on my nasal excretions.
“Don’t worry, we’ll lead you guys out safely.”
I don’t think Kat could promise that. The look on her face agreed with my assessment.
“Poor Sam. She must be scared stiff out there in this storm by herself,” Jemma said.
That’s if she’s still alive. I sure hoped she was. Better scared stiff than being a stiff.
“As soon as it’s safe to go out again, we’ll resume looking for her.” Kat tried her best to keep the group calm.
“Can you call for help? You have a landline phone, right?” Floyd asked.
“I checked. The phone’s down.”
Just great. Well, might as well make the best of it for now. We ain’t going nowhere. Think I’ll do some snooping.
I looked over at Jemma. She was in an in-depth flirting conversation with Chris.
Guess I’m going it alone.
I hadn’t been to the guests’ quarters yet, so that was my first stop. Just like in the movies, the steps leading upstairs creaked with the weight of my foot. Definitely not good for sneaking around at night, but since it was daytime and I wasn’t exactly sneaking, the old bones of a stairway wasn’t a problem.
When I reached the top stair, a long hallway greeted me. This wasn’t one of those fancy mansions in romance novels. It was a ranch house, plain and simple in construction without any frills.
The hallway looked like what you’d find in a hotel with each room’s door facing each other. No long table against the wall with flowers or a pottery piece as one normally finds in such places. Just a hallway with doors and that’s about it.
But something caught my eye. Pictures on the walls between the rooms, and not of paniolos this time. They were family-type photos of the same people.
As I made my way down the corridor, Maile appeared. I didn’t acknowledge her like I normally do because two guests were in their rooms, and these walls didn’t seem exactly soundproof.
I gave my kid sis a smile. She’d realize why I couldn’t speak to her. Then my palms got sweaty as trepidation hit me.
Why’d she show up here? It could only mean one thing.
Maile pointed to a pho
to on the wall of a young girl and boy standing side by side. Probably a sister and brother. The girl had her arm around the boy, and both smiled at the camera as though they’d just torn open their Christmas presents.
What did this mean? Why did Maile point to them? Like most of her visits, my sister only stayed long enough to throw me a brief clue, and then she’d vanish.
My eyes perused the other photos more intently this time. Two were of the kids singly, one of just their parents, and the rest as a family. There were six photos altogether.
Since there was nothing more to gain up here, I descended the stairs. Intending to head back to the living room, muffled male voices permeated my ears causing me to pause. Behind me to the right, a short hallway led to a door where men engaged in conversation.
“Now that we’ve talked a little about your campaign, I want to bring up another subject. I don’t know if you remember, but I represented you in a case about twenty years ago,” one man said.
“I remember, but I prefer not to,” the other replied.
Just by the content of the first man’s words, I deduced one was Representative Withers, and the other one, Owen Lloyd the attorney.
“It was a tragic case. Even though I won it for you, it was a difficult one for me. I didn’t feel good about it afterward.”
“You were paid well. You did your job.”
“You know the wife committed suicide, don’t you? And the kids were put into a foster home. The boy ended up in a mental ward.”
“They never found her body, so that’s debatable. Anyway, none of it’s my fault. The guy was drunk and nearly killed me.”
“You had alcohol in your blood as well. You must’ve paid somebody off to get that taken out of the police report.”
“What are you getting at? You looking to blackmail me?”
“I think we can work something out upon your election to the mayoral seat.”
“There you are,” a voice said behind me.
I jumped as if she’d yelled ‘Boo!’
In a whisper, I said, “Dammit, Jemma, you scared the living daylights out of me.”
Her mouth was about to move, so I put my finger to my lips in a shhhhh.
“Why are we whispering?” she asked.
