At six-thirty, Tyler burst through the front door with such fury I nearly wet myself. I popped up from the computer where I’d been furtively peeking at the FaceBook pages of my friends back on Maui.
“Whoa there, cowboy,” I said. “Take it easy.”
“I can’t,” he said, snapping the deadbolt to lock the door. He sounded out of breath. “I’m so pissed right now, I…I…” He didn’t finish. Instead, he plopped down on the sofa and put his head in his hands. I thought he might be crying, but I couldn’t tell for sure.
I waited at least a minute before I said anything. “You okay?”
“No, I am definitely not okay.”
Another minute went by.
“You want to talk about it?” I said.
“Not really.”
I’d had enough of the waiting game so I started heading to the back of the house. People who don’t want to talk generally want privacy, so getting out of his way seemed like a good idea.
“Where are you going?” he said.
“I’m going back to the kitchen. I’m getting hungry.”
“Can I go with you?”
“Sure. Are you hungry?”
“Not at all. But I don’t want to be alone,” he said. “I’m feeling like I may be a danger to myself and others.”
“Okay, come along. But let me warn you, one false move toward the kitchen knives and I’ll take you down like socks off a clothesline. And believe me, I can do it.”
“No reason to doubt you,” he said. By this point, a slight smile had begun to play across his haggard face.
We got to the kitchen and I pulled out some hummus and pita chips. He absentmindedly grabbed a chip and nibbled on it.
“You won’t believe what I found out,” he said.
I waited for him to continue.
“You want to hear about it or not?” he said. He sounded a bit peeved I hadn’t responded to his tantalizing opening line.
“If you want to tell me.”
“Deedee’s the one who called in the vultures.”
“What?” I nearly dropped the pita chip I was holding.
“It was Deedee who called the gossip rags and told ‘em about us getting married over here.”
“Why on earth would she do that?”
“Beats me. She’s always been straight-up with me in the past, but now I’m not sure what she’s thinking. She’s told me a million times how much she hates those guys tailing us when we go out. It was her idea to put in a dozen security cameras all around our new house. I can’t imagine why she’d want to ruin her own wedding with paparazzi.”
I shook my head. I’d intended to simply show him I was listening, but he latched onto the gesture and ran with it.
“Ah, so I guess you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” he said. “You think she’s playing me. She’s more interested in pumping up her underwear business than caring about me and what I want. You probably think I’m an idiot for not figuring it out sooner.” His shrill voice sounded like a guy who’d walked in on his wife playing Special Delivery with the mailman.
“I didn’t say anything, Tyler.”
“No, but you’re thinking it. I can tell.”
I willed my face to be a blank slate. I’d had some practice with brides who’d asked for totally outrageous things, like the one who wanted a circus-themed wedding. She wanted her guests to wear red rubber clown noses, and she wanted the groom in a lion-tamer costume, right down to the chair and whip.
“You are so right,” he went on. “She’s been playing me for a fool since forever. I can’t believe how stupid I was. The eight-carat diamond ring she had to have. The forty-million-dollar life insurance policy with her as the sole beneficiary. She even talked me into building a new wing on the house for her mother. And I can’t stand her mother. The woman looks down on me because I’m a self-made man. When Deedee was sixteen, she was primping for the Delta Cotillion. Me? I was parking cars and getting my GED at night school.”
I maintained my blank face. No way I’d weigh in on upper-class snobbery. I had no experience in that area except for the few times I’d come across it when I’d coordinated some diva’s wedding. But in those instances I’d been the hired help. I had a rule: the more the client made me grovel, the more I jacked up the price.
“You’re so right about Deedee,” he kept going. “I’m a damn sucker. Why didn’t I see what she was? I mean, I’ve always considered myself a pretty smart guy. I negotiate multi-million-dollar movie deals with guys who own their own islands. And I can’t recognize a gold-digger when I see one? I wonder how much the gossip rags paid her to tip them off.”
I had a bad feeling his ranting would go on and on if I didn’t cut in.
“Tyler, would you like to get out of here and get some air?”
“Yeah, but the scum suckers will just follow me if I leave.”
“Not if we play it smart.”
***
We came up with a plan to slip away from the White Orchid before anyone realized we were gone. I pranced out the front door, yelling to Tyler that I was taking his Jeep to get some beer and I’d be back in five minutes. Of course Tyler wasn’t in the house. He’d already sneaked out back to the greenhouse. I took a right at the corner, which is the way to the grocery store. The paparazzi must’ve believed that Tyler was still in the house, because when I looked in the rearview mirror no one was following me. I doubled back and took a left at Lihi, the street that runs along the back of the White Orchid property. I pulled to the side of the road. Tyler slipped through the back gate and was at the passenger-side door so fast I almost didn’t have time to get it unlocked.
“You driving?” he said.
“I don’t think this is a good time for musical chairs. But if you want…”
“No, it’s fine. Where’re we going?”
“I thought it’d be fun to catch the sunset at Kaumalapau. Have you been out there yet?”
“Cow-ma-what? I can’t even say it, let alone remember if I’ve been there.”
“Kaumalapau is the industrial harbor here on Lana’i. Back in the pineapple days, the harbor bustled with freighters coming in and out, loading up pineapple to take to ports all over the world. Now the place is pretty quiet. Fishing boats leave from there now and then, but mostly the only people down there are a handful of guys who fish from the pier and the workers at the nearby oil storage tanks. But I’ve heard it’s the best place on the island to watch the sunset.”
“Sounds good.”
The Kaumalapau Highway—Highway 440—runs southwest from Lana’i City down to the harbor, about seven and a half miles. The road is paved the whole way, which was good since I wasn’t familiar with Tyler’s Jeep Wrangler. When we got to the entrance of the harbor, I pulled onto a wide spot across from a collection of oil storage tanks and turned off the engine. The only sound was the shush of waves breaking on the rocks below and the wind whistling through the Jeep’s soft-top. By then, the sun was hanging low on the horizon with a few puffy clouds scattered here and there. Clouds were good because they promised a more beautiful sunset.
“This is the biggest harbor on the island?” Tyler said. “It sure doesn’t look like there’s much going on down there.”
I nodded. There was a small fishing boat tied up on the far side of the concrete pier, but other than that, the harbor was deserted.
“I read this harbor was pretty wrecked after Hurricane Iwa pounded it in 1982,” I said. “Then Hurricane Iniki finished the job in 1992. The Army Corps of Engineers rebuilt it in 2007 because the Lana’i residents needed a harbor big enough to handle barges bringing in goods.” I pointed to the far end of the harbor, where the pier bristled on all sides with huge geometric white blocks. ““See those big white things all around the pier? They’re made from formed concrete. There are more than eight-hundred of them, and they weigh over thirty-five tons.”
“Whew,” said Tyler. “That’s a lot of concrete for a harbor in the middle of nowhere.”
“They look like huge jacks,” Tyler said. “You know, like that game little girls play? My sister played jacks when we were in grade school.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah, it’s a long story. And unfortunately it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes. The sun dipped lower and lower. It looked as if it was growing weary of clinging to the sky and was ready to call it a day.
At the moment the sun slipped below the horizon the sky burst into color. It began with a golden yellow, then changed to coral, and then to vivid fuchsia. The grand finale was purple velvet giving way to deep navy blue.
“Wow, that was amazing,” Tyler whispered. “Kind of makes this stuff with Deedee and me seem trivial.”
“It’s not trivial, though, is it? I mean, it’s your life. You trusted her and she let you down. Not a small thing.”
We stared at the darkening sky.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do now?” I said.
“I don’t know. I wish I could wipe it all clean. You know, go back to the time when I was completely focused on the Stony Jackson stuff and I hadn’t met Deedee. No matter what I do, those tabloid vultures are going to make money off me. Fans love to watch celebrities crash and burn.”
***
We pulled in front of the White Orchid at about eight-fifteen. In the dark it was impossible to spot lurking paparazzi, but since no cameras flashed as we made our way to the door it appeared they’d given up for the night. Before I had a chance to snap on the light switch in the great room, I noticed the red message light blinking on the phone.
“Don’t get that,” Tyler said.
“I have to. It might be someone calling to book a room.”
I played the message. It was Darryl checking in with me.
Tyler stood stock still for about half a minute. Then he spoke. “I guess I better head on up to the Lodge and face the music. And anyway, you need to call Darryl back.”
“You know, you don’t have to go back up there until morning. You’ve already paid for your room here for three more days.”
“Thanks, but I’ll feel better once I’ve dealt with it. Deedee will want to talk it to death. She’ll probably beg forgiveness and swear it’ll never happen again. But you know, it’s like someone turned a switch in me. I just don’t care anymore. I don’t care about what she wants, and I don’t care what those reporters say. All I want to do is get back to LA and back to work. No more girlfriends, no more red carpets, no more setting myself up to be screwed over.”
“Slow down, Tyler. Are you sure it’s completely over between you and Deedee?” Although I was no fan of Deedee Diamonte’s, I still thought he might later regret making such a rash decision. “There are always two sides to a story. Don’t you think you should hear Deedee’s side of things? I mean, you guys have been living together for what, a year?”
“Going on two years now. But for me, when it’s over, it’s over. It’s like a movie, you know? Once the bad guy’s dead and the good guy gets the girl, it’s best to just end it. Roll the credits and crank up the closing music. No sense dragging it out.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear you feel that way. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t a little upset when you guys chose to get married at the Lodge instead of down here at the White Orchid, but I like you, Tyler. And I was really hoping you and Deedee would enjoy a long and happy life together.” I had no idea how he’d managed to stick with that woman for two years, but I make it a point to not judge intimate partnerships. I figure what goes on behind closed doors is usually a mystery to everyone but the people involved.
“Thanks, Penny. I really appreciate it. If you ever get to Hollywood, look me up, okay? He leaned over and gave me a peck on the forehead. For a fleeting moment I panicked about saying good-bye to the only friend I’d made on Lana’i. I wanted to confide in him and tell him the truth. I wanted to tell him my name wasn’t Penny Morton. I wanted to relay the whole story of how I’d been exiled to this lonely place and I desperately missed my friends on Maui. I wanted to tell him that right after the holidays I’d be sent to the mainland to testify against some scary guys, and I wanted to go home for Christmas more than anything in the world.
But the moment passed.
After Tyler left I called Darryl. He said he and Ewa would be back in two days, on Friday. I locked up and went out the back gate toward Dole Park. I needed to check on things at my rental house. I sniffed the misty night air. Christmas was just a week away. The lights on the big tree in the park twinkled gaily against the surrounding blackness. With Tyler heading back to LA and Darryl and Ewa coming home, there was no good reason for me to stick around. Wong wouldn’t like it, but I felt confident if I kept out of sight I could definitely stay safe for the final few weeks until I was called to testify.
I craned my neck to see the blazing white star at the top of the Christmas tree. I took a deep breath and smiled. Things were working out. I’d be home for the holidays after all.
CHAPTER 11
My rental house looked sad. With no lights showing, no flickering TV and no car in the driveway, the place looked like it’d been abandoned. And, in a way it had been. Ever since I’d gotten the job at the White Orchid I’d only spent one night in the house. I went through the dark kitchen and opened the refrigerator. I blinked in the bright light. All I found in there was a yogurt with a November sell-by date and a half-empty bottle of shoyu—soy sauce.
I went into the bedroom and flopped on the bed. It was about the firmest excuse for a mattress I’d ever met. And I’d met some doozies when I’d flown as an air marshal from Hawaii to Asia. Japanese hotels are notorious for mattresses that make you feel like you’re camping in the back of a pick-up truck.
I got up and pulled out my suitcase. For more than a month I’d dreamed of repacking that suitcase and leaving the rental house keys on the coffee table. But I wasn’t completely free to leave. I’d promised Darryl and Ewa I’d stay until they got back. As far as I could recall, I’d never consciously broken a promise to a friend. I’d already become a liar, I wasn’t about to become a lousy friend.
I considered staying overnight at my rental house, but then thought better of it. Tyler might change his mind about spending his last night on Lana’i up at the Lodge. Since he’d paid for his room at the White Orchid I needed to be there in case he came back or showed up in the morning for breakfast.
Sure enough. When I turned the corner on Kua’aina Street there was a Jeep parked in front of the bed and breakfast. I jogged up to the gate. The porch light wasn’t on but I hadn’t left it on since I’d gone out the back way. Tyler wouldn’t have turned it on since he wouldn’t want to alert the paparazzi that he was there. I figured he’d probably used his key to get in and had gone directly back to his room.
I went through the courtyard, pulling my key from my pocket as I went. When I reached the front door, I fumbled with the lock as I tried to find the keyhole in the dark.
“Good evening.” The voice was definitely male. It had come from somewhere to my left.
I whirled around to face whoever it was. I planted my feet and assumed a defensive stance. If the guy thought he’d get the jump on me by lurking in the dark, he’d soon figure out he should have done his homework. With twenty years of kung fu practice to back me up, stranger danger wasn’t high on my list of concerns. Unless the guy was armed. I squinted to see if I could spot a weapon in the darkness.
“Pali, it’s me.”
I switched from scrutinizing the guy’s hands to trying to make out his face. I recognized the voice. But I was so shocked at hearing my real name spoken I didn’t trust myself.
“Ono? Is that you?” By now he’d stepped closer. The guy definitely resembled my friend
from Lahaina, but I wanted confirmation.
“Yep, it’s me. I hope you’re not mad at me for showing up without calling.”
I grabbed him around the neck and kissed him—the first time I’d ever done anything like that in my life. Of course I’d kissed my share of guys before, but never so impulsively, so recklessly. His mouth felt like home, and he smelled like everything I’d been missing for the past month.
“Wow. I’ll take that to mean it was okay not to call.” His smile looked like a Cheshire Cat grin, a white half-moon floating in the deep black of the Lana’i City night.
“Let’s go inside,” I said. I fumbled with the key.
Ono took the key from my hand and expertly fit it into the lock. Then he pushed the door open like he owned the place. We slipped off our shoes and left them by the door.
“Mahalo,” I said. “I’m just so blown away to see you here.” I walked across the dark great room and snapped the switch on the feeble sixty-watt floor lamp.
Oliver “Ono” Kingston looked better to me than even my fondest recollection. His hair was a little longer, a bit past his collar. It was a darker brown than mine with streaks of blond at the crown. The blond was the result of sun and wind exposure while sailing the catamaran he captains for visitor snorkeling trips and private parties. He lives aboard in Lahaina Harbor. He’s a few inches over six feet tall, and that night he was wearing a rumpled cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves along with his customary baggy khaki cargo shorts.
The last time we’d been together he’d been angry with me, so it was doubly rewarding to see him again. Not only was I thrilled to see a familiar face, but it appeared our squabble was long-forgotten.
“How’d you find me?” I said. “Wong’s gonna have a fit when he hears.”
“Why would you tell Detective Wong anything?”
“He’s trying to keep me alive,” I said. “I think I owe him full disclosure.”
“C’mon, Pali. You don’t owe him squat. He’s the one who owes you—big time. The cops totally used you to flush out that drug cartel, and now they’re using you to testify. To make it worse, I’ll bet Wong’s still not telling you everything that’s going down.”
Lana'i of the Tiger (The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) Page 7
