by Aysia Amery
“Are you sure you didn’t dream this up from watching too much soap opera?” Pako interrupted.
“I do not watch soap operas anymore. I haven’t done that in eons.”
Yeah, a while back I got hooked on The Young and the Restless and The Bold and the Beautiful. Don’t laugh.
“Just sayin’.”
“You just made me lose my train of thought. Where was I?”
“You were on about a kidney.”
I silently recounted those I had mentioned. “That was it. There were seven, counting Richard. And I know Jemma and Reese didn’t do it. If they did, I’m firing their asses.”
“Well, that still leaves you, and you did find the body.”
“Yeah, and you’re next on my hit list.”
“Okay, so in your opinion, who would have the most motive?” Pako enjoyed his job. The challenge of deductive reasoning was a passion. Mine too, actually. I guess that was another thing we had in common.
“At first I was thinking Fiona, but when I saw the way she reacted when she was told that Lester was found dead in her cottage, she seemed annoyed and rather edgy that this happened on the same night as the death of her hubby.”
“How about the kids? How old are they?”
“Old enough to commit murder. They’re in their early twenties I’d say.”
“Now, you mentioned about the guy who left early not being the victim’s biological father; I take it the dead husband was?” Pako didn’t miss a beat.
“By George, you’ve got it, Watson!”
“You can’t use George and Watson in the same sentence. It’s either George, or it’s Watson.” Okay, in this area, his beat was off.
“Huh? Haven’t you heard of an ‘expletive attributive’? ‘By George’ is like saying ‘by god.’ It has nothing to do with the person you are talking to. That person’s name is not supposed to be George.”
“Okay, whatever. Anyway, I’m Sherlock. You’re Watson. I’ve got the badge, so I get top billing.”
“But you don’t see dead people, so I’m more special.”
He was silent for a moment. I then heard a sigh.
“Okay, true, you’ve one-upped me on that. How about we take turns wallowing in the limelight?”
I laughed. Yes, this was how we bantered. Even to this day, after all these years, we talked like this.
“So who would have most to gain by offing the bastard son? Go ahead, I’ll let you be Sherlock today,” my partner in crime-fighting said.
“Well, it’s no fun if you already know the answer. Don’t patronize me, buddy.”
It was his turn to snort a laugh.
“You’re sure the butler didn’t do it, right?”
“He left after dinner. I heard his car leave the premises.”
“Seriously? They had a butler? I was joking.”
“They’re filthy rich. Of course they did.”
“I didn’t think they called them butlers anymore. Isn’t that a British thing?”
“Are we gonna start discussing where words come from now? Back on subject, please.”
“Bossy.”
Did he just call me bossy?
“Okay, the two kids, Lester’s half-siblings, might have something to gain by Lester’s death. That is if they thought that their father left some inheritance to him. But it didn’t seem like Richard even cared about Lester. At least that’s the impression I got from their conversations.”
Figuring out whose DNA was going to show up on the wine glasses was like a game to us because this part wasn’t going to require any astute sleuthing. It was just a matter of waiting for the forensic report to pass Pako’s desk. That report would point the finger to the possible suspects. This game was just for our own egos: seeing if we were insightful enough to guess right.
“What if Fiona was acting like she was annoyed just to throw you off?”
“Why would she think I’d be of any importance? She has my butt on a possible lawsuit. She’d use it to blackmail me and gain an upper hand. And she doesn’t know I have connections in the police department. She has no clue who I know.”
“Okay, so Lester’s half-siblings are still possible suspects. Who’s left?”
“Regina, Vogel’s girlfriend.”
“What kind of name is that anyway? Vogel.”
“I don’t know. It sounds German. But he might say the same about your name, Pako.” I laughed.
“Yeah, I never did like my name. It sounds like a bird.”
“It’s a fine name. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay, so what about Regina?”
“Nah. She has nothing to gain or lose. She hasn’t even been Vogel’s girlfriend for very long. I think we can rule her out.” Although, I should know better by now. Nobody should be dismissed because many times it’s the person you least suspect.
“Hum,” Pako said in a breath as he pondered. “My guess then is Fiona and the daughter.”
“Really? The daughter I can agree with, but you still think Fiona has reason to want Lester out of the way after what I told you?”
“Yeah, why not? Mothers are protective over their children. She might be looking out for their welfare if her husband had plans of taking care of Lester. Plus, her ego. You know, that whole ‘woman scorned’ thing? Lester’s the product of her husband’s cheating. She also doesn’t know if the bastard son may try to claim rights to the family wealth. You never know with these things.”
He made good points.
“Have you been sneaking around, watching the soaps?” Had to get him back for that ‘soap’ comment.
“Not even. It’s my many years of brilliant detective work.”
“Oh, and here I thought you were a goof-off all this time,” I teased. “Anyway, that’s some keen deduction. Good job. But I’m going with the kids. They would have the most reason for hating their father’s bastard son.”
“What should we bet?”
“Lunch at Nalu’s?” I replied.
“Didn’t we bet that the last time?”
“We went to Nutcharee’s for Thai food.”
“Oh, yeah. They had real ono (delicious) Thai.”
“There ain’t much that you don’t find ono, Pako.”
“I don’t like natto. I don’t know how you can eat that stuff. It smells like my feet.”
“It’s not that bad! I’ve gotten a whiff of your feet, and sorry, but your feet are way worse than that. Anyway, natto is good for your health. Most things fermented are good for your health.”
“Yeah, like beer.”
“Okay, maybe that’s the only fermented product that’s not so good for your health.” I laughed.
“It sure makes me feel good.”
“Yeah, and that beer belly you’re developing I’m sure agrees with you,” I said with a snicker.
“My wife says I make a good pillow.”
“You’ll know when to ease up on the brew when your kids start using you for a beach ball.”
“Sometimes I think they already do. ‘Dad, I need this; Dad, I need that; Dad, can you take me here? Dad can you buy me that? Dad, Dad, Dad.’”
That made me laugh hard enough to snort.
“So I asked Kim, ‘How come they don’t ask you to do all this stuff?’ She tells me, ‘Because I don’t give ‘em what they want.’”
“Yeah, you’re a softy. You may look tough and rugged on the outside—well, except that your voice kinda ruins it—but you’re just a big squishy teddy bear.”
“What’s the matter with my voice?”
“It’s kinda high-pitched, so you don’t sound as mean as you look. You can scare the pants off somebody when they first get a look at you, but the minute you open your mouth, you sound like a pussy cat.”
He went silent.
“It’s actually a good thing. You’d scare a lot of women, otherwise.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t wanna be sounding like a pussy to guys.”
“I said ‘pussy cat’ NOT ‘pussy.�
�� The guys can see you’re built like a truck and can tear their heads off if you wanted to, so I doubt you have to worry about that.”
“Good. You were starting to give me a complex.”
Too funny.
“Well, your voice hasn’t stopped you from getting where you are in the department, now has it? You don’t have to worry.”
“Why the hell did you have to mention that then?”
“I dunno, it sorta just came out. I’m sorry.” All these years I’ve never mentioned his voice, so I really don’t know what possessed me to tell him that now. Now I felt bad.
“Seriously, you don’t have to worry. I mean it. Like I said, it’s a good thing when you encounter females.”
“All right. Don’t sweat it. I’m good.”
Whew.
“Okay, good. I’d better let you go. Call me as soon as you get the report.”
“Nah. Maybe I’ll go surfing first, then go get a haircut and trim my nose hairs. Might even take voice lessons.” He was getting back at me.
“Grrr.”
Pako laughed. “Okay, I’ll see ya later.”
“Bye.”
Click.
I put my cell down on the counter behind me.
When I turned back around, I jumped. Maile was standing in front of me.
“What is it, Maile?” I asked.
She pointed to a magazine that lay on the counter.
“Is there something in the magazine you want me to see?”
She nodded.
I flipped open the cover and waited. She made no move. I flipped to the next page. Still nothing. I turned each page one by one, until finally she pointed to the magazine again.
My eyes scanned the two adjacent pages of glossy print, but nothing struck me as anything interesting. Many times, I didn’t know if she was conveying info about the recent murder or her own death. It really sucked to not be able to hear her.
“This?” I pointed to the first photo.
She shook her head.
“This one?” It was a picture of a tatted biker on a Harley.
Maile’s expression illumed, and she nodded.
“Is this somebody who did something?”
She shook her head.
Hmm. What does she want me to guess?
Before I could ask her anymore questions, she vanished. This was the problem with seeing ghosts. I never knew how long they’d stick around. Whether they left by choice, or they had a time limit for visitation, it was beyond me. It was darn frustrating, especially when I was on a roll with solving their clues. One minute they’re there, and then POOF, they were gone.
I studied the photo more closely. Maile indicated it had nothing to do with the model, so it must be what he depicted.
Lester wore a biker’s vest and had tats. Was she alluding to something to do with him? With his death? It had to be that because no other part of the photo made sense. It was an ad for a Harley-Davidson motorcycle.
So what was it about Lester she was trying to tell me?
Ring.
Pako’s name displayed on my cell.
“What? You want to tell me you’re at voice class already?” Me being a wise-butt.
“I just got a call. I’ll be getting the forensics report tomorrow. Just thought you’d want to know. Maybe you’ll get insomnia tonight thinking about that and need my high-pitched voice to soothe you to sleep.”
I burst out a laugh.
“I think I’ll settle for melatonin. Anyway, that’s fantastic news. Thanks, Pako!”
“Get ready to pay for my lunch.”
“Yeah, keep dreaming.”
“I will since you won’t be.”
“Ha ha.”
Click.
Whoo-hoo. We will be finding out tomorrow what two parties the DNA belonged to. I was practically jumping out of my skin now.
I’d better do something productive so I don’t start pacing the floor. I’ll make some scones.
But first, I’d better check to make sure I still had some melatonin.
Chapter 9
“You’re taking me to lunch.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“Fingerprints matched from DMV.”
“I have to say, I really bought into Fiona’s wanting to help Lester with his kidney transplant.” I must be slipping on the intuition bit.
“She must’ve been a good actress.”
“Yeah, unlike those we know.” My mouth crooked a facetious smile.
Something still didn’t sound right about this whole thing.
“So let’s think about this,” I told Pako. “They went to the hospital, cried for their patriarch, then came home, had a glass of wine with Lester, then poisoned him. Does that not sound in the least bit crazy to you? Not to mention, would they be so stupid as to leave their DNA around?
“I mean, c’mon, if you wanted to murder somebody, would you have a glass of wine with them, poisoning theirs, and not remove the glasses, wipe your fingerprints clean around the site, and make sure it looked like he committed suicide?” I just couldn’t fathom that messy a murder plotter.
“There have been some pretty stupid criminals.” Pako must have seen all kinds in his many years of service.
“Fiona doesn’t seem like she’d be that stupid.”
“So what are you implying? Somebody framed them? Made it look like the two wahines (women) killed ‘em?”
“Doesn’t that seem more plausible in this case? The ‘stupid criminal’ slant just doesn’t fly with me, Pako.”
“Yeah, I get your drift. You should’ve joined the force with me back then. We would’ve made a good team.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing now? I just don’t have to be stuck with you 12 hours a day.”
“I’m so glad you dumped me. You’d make my life hell every day.” Yeah, I was the one who broke up with the guy. He was kinda heartbroken, but he never let that get in the way of our friendship.
“It was mutual.” I still liked to make him believe that. Hurts less.
I needed to change the subject.
“Can you make time to go with me to the crime site? I really need to see if Lester’s ghost will communicate with me.”
“Yeah. When do you wanna go?”
“I’m free for tomorrow and Thursday. I took a gig for Saturday, so both Friday and Saturday are out.”
“I gotta make some calls to clear it with the Lanai guys and my boss.”
“Great! Let me know.”
“Laters.”
“Bye.”
Click.
I prayed Lester’s ghost would help us out. Who would want their murder or murderers to get away with it? No matter how much Penelope deserved some humbling, if she was innocent, she should be exonerated.
Hmm, I wondered if I was still going to owe Pako a lunch if it turned out that they were framed?
I don’t think so. But why did I get the feeling he wasn’t gonna like that?
* * *
We got to the Duboits’ home a little before 9:30 a.m. Sheila, Fiona’s housekeeper, greeted us and then left us to do our thing. Even though Pako wasn’t officially investigating this crime, she didn’t know that.
And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because he had police access whether officially on this case or not. Since forensics had already combed the area, that wasn’t an issue, and we weren’t there to remove anything anyway—I only wanted to speak to a ghost.
“So I hope this guy appears pretty quickly so we can make it back for the lunch you owe me at Nalu’s.”
“I cannot believe you are thinking about food when we just had breakfast. And by the way, we don’t know yet that Fiona and Penelope murdered Lester.”
“Our bet was for the DNA results.”
I knew it. I knew he was going to be adamant about that.
“Yes, but only if they prove to be the murderers,” I said.
“Who made that rule?”
We walked into the ohana cottage.
&n
bsp; “Shhh. Stop talking. You’re going to scare Lester away.”
“Well, he’s already heard my voice, so I doubt it.”
If I were drinking something, it would have sprayed out, mostly from my nose. That was pretty funny, I had to admit. I knew I’d regret telling him that.
I probably did give him a complex. He’ll get back at me at some point.
“Who the hell reads so many books?” Pako always hated reading. He said he read too slowly, and it took him forever to finish a book. He preferred watching movies instead.
“Lester, if you’re here, I need to talk to you,” I said, looking slowly around the room.
If a ghost didn’t make an appearance right away, I tried calling out to them. I’m not sure if they were just hanging around in limbo land and heard calls directed to them or not, but many times it worked. I guess if they’ve got nothing better to do, they might as well answer the call. It probably wasn’t often that live people could see and talk to them.
“Lester, please? I really need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, Lester, we’re here to help you, so get your butt over here.”
Pako has been around me many times when I’ve summoned a ghost, so this wasn’t anything unusual for him to witness. I was lucky enough to have friends who didn’t think me weird. Maybe I attract those kinds of people to me, I don’t know. I love them for not judging me though.
“Pako, could you be any less friendly?”
“I’ll be over here if you need me.” He grinned full-toothed and crept over to one of the leather recliners as though he were a child told to go stand in the corner. There was a swooshing sound as his bulk compressed air from the cushion.
I paced back and forth, looking down at the stained rug where the amber wine had spilled. That wasn’t going to be so easy to get out.
Just as I crouched to take a better look at it, I sensed a presence come into the room.
I turned to look behind me and there he was—all four feet of him. There was enough opaqueness to his translucency that I was able to make out most of his tattoos. Dragons, swords, flowers, and various beasts canvased his short yet muscular arms like the artwork on a Ming vase. His body stood solid and robust, but his face was enveloped in melancholy.
