I paced while I fretted. Luckily, ten minutes later a dirty beige minivan with a blown-out muffler pulled up outside. I peeked out the window just as everyone started piling out of the van. Darryl and Ewa had masses of leis draped around their shoulders. Darryl gave the male driver a ‘man-hug’ while Ewa and two other women attempted to wrestle a baby carrier from the back. Darryl stepped in and finished the job. He carefully placed the carrier on the sidewalk and went back to saying his alohas. Ewa walked from person to person, hugging and kissing them like she’d just been sprung from a long prison sentence. I’d have enjoyed watching the tender homecoming scene a lot more if I wasn’t sweating Wong showing up with hand-cuffs and a one-way ticket to the mainland.
I sucked in a breath, plastered a smile on my face and opened the door. “Ewa, Darryl! Let me see the little dude.”
“Penny? Is that you?” said Ewa as I came down the walkway. “What happened to your hair?”
“Bad hair day,” I said.
I peered down into the baby carrier. I was surprised to see two shiny ebony eyes giving me the once over. Little Ekana appeared wise beyond his days. And the way he was glaring at me, it looked as if he could hardly wait to learn to use a telephone so he could rat me out to Detective Wong.
“Wow, he’s so cute,” I said covering up the creepy vibe the kid was sending out. “So, are you calling him ‘Ethan’ or ‘Ekana’?”
“I think the Hawaiian way won out,” said Darryl. “You and me’ll be the only ones with haole names around here, I guess.” It took me a beat to remember he knew me as ‘Penny’.
“Yeah, well Ekana’s a great name. And he’s an adorable little guy.” The kid was still shooting me major stink eye but I refused to acknowledge it.
“So how’d it go?” said Darryl. “Did that Hollywood guy get to relax like he wanted?” I couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together and realized the guy on the news who’d been accused of the Koele murders was the same guy who’d come to the White Orchid to escape the Hollywood grind.
“Uh, why don’t we get everybody inside and we can go over the past week and a half. It’s been kind of interesting around here.”
We got inside and Ewa plopped down on the sofa. “I’m exhausted,” she said.
“Why don’t I make you some tea and bring it to you in your quarters?” I said. “Darryl and I can go over the business stuff.”
Ewa shot Darryl a look at that dared him to ask her to stick around and participate.
“That’s a great idea, hon,” he said. “You go on back and I’ll put Ekana in his crib while Penny makes the tea. You should rest.”
I prayed the baby would embrace the opportunity to hit the hay as much as his mom had. I really needed to come clean with Darryl and try to elicit his help in getting to the bottom of the Tyler Benson mess.
When the tea was made and mother and child were safely ensconced in the back bedroom, I sat down with Darryl in the kitchen.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” he said as soon as we’d taken our seats.
“Big time.”
“Are we gonna get sued?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
I took a deep breath and plunged in.
CHAPTER 21
“Okay, so let me see if I’ve got this right,” Darryl said when I finally stopped talking. “The Hollywood guy who stayed here, Tyler Benson, was going to marry Deedee Diamonte. But then Deedee called the tabloids and tipped them off about the wedding. That totally pissed off Tyler and he didn’t want to marry her anymore.”
I nodded.
“So that night you and Tyler went out for a drive. Sometime around the time you were gone Deedee was murdered in her room at the Lodge and they also found a dead paparazzi dude under her balcony. And now the cops think Tyler Benson killed both of them.”
I nodded again.
“So, why don’t you just go down to the police station and clear it up? Seems like this Tyler guy couldn’t have done it if he was driving around with you.”
“Yeah well, unfortunately, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
At that point Ekana started wailing in the back room.
“Ewa will get him,” Darryl said. “He’s probably just hungry. All that kid does is eat, poop and yell.” His words didn’t reflect the obvious fatherly pride I saw on his face.
A few minutes later, the house was quiet again.
“Okay, so what’s the complication?” he said.
I told him about my concern about the time of death. How the ME had given a three-hour window, which meant that although Tyler was with me for most of the time, he still had a short amount of time when he was unaccounted for.
“Well, you could vouch for him for most of the time,” he said. “That would help, don’t you think?”
I took a deep breath and marshaled my courage. If Wong knew what I was about to do he’d have grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me onto a plane so fast I’d—
Wait a minute. He was going to do that anyway. No reason not to sing like a mynah bird.
***
Darryl stared at me for a good half-minute before saying anything. “Okay, now let me see if I’m following you. You’ve got drug kingpins after you?”
Kingpins? I’d never thought of them that way. Scum suckers, bowel lickers, kid killers, and low-lifes seemed more descriptive. But Darryl had called them ‘kingpins’ like they were royalty, masters of the realm. It made me mad.
“They’re not kings of anything,” I said. “They’re slimy bastards who get kids hooked on stuff like meth and crack. They ruin people’s lives and tear apart families. Your so-called ‘kingpins’ have murdered five people in Hawaii, and four of them were women. Now they’re gunning for me.” My voice came out a lot louder than I’d meant it to. Ekana started bawling again.
Darryl stood up. I thought he might huff out of the room, but instead he came over and put his hands on my shoulders and gave them a little squeeze. I couldn’t help it, I choked up. I rubbed the wetness from the corners of my eyes before Darryl could accuse me of crying.
“You must really be scared,” he said. “I can’t imagine having guys like that after me. Is there anything Ewa and I can do to help?”
Funny you should ask.
***
It wasn’t easy asking other people to lie for me. I’d already done enough lying to last me a lifetime, and here I was recruiting people to play ‘liar, liar, pants on fire’ right along with me. Growing up, my Auntie Mana had only one ironclad rule: no matter what you did, tell the truth. She’d go to bat for you, no matter how bad the situation, as long as you didn’t lie about it. I’d thought about her a lot in the past month.
“I need you to help me stay hidden from the police,” I said. Darryl’s eyebrows shot up and he pulled his mouth into a grimace worthy of a stone tiki.
“You want me to commit perjury?” he said.
“It’s perjury if you fib in court. In this case, I prefer to think of it as ‘creative memory.’ Besides, I’m not asking you to make up a story or anything. I just want you to pretend you haven’t seen me.”
“You planning on staying here at the White Orchid?”
“No, I’ve got somewhere else to go. But the cop who’s asking around about me will come here. He knows I worked here.”
“Is it one of our Lana’i cops? ‘Cause I know ‘em all, and there’s no way I’m gonna get away with shining ‘em on. Those guys have known me since I was a little kid.”
“No, it’s a Maui cop. His name is Detective Glen Wong. He’s a real sharp guy. I just need you to act a little less than sharp.”
“What’s with that? Seems everybody on the other islands thinks of Lana’i as some kind of pathetic backwater. I felt it when we were in Honolulu. ‘Oh, you’re from over on Lana’i? How nice.’ Well, me and Ewa love it here. We live here by choice. Our kids are safe and happy, and our school is good, and—”
“Look, Darryl, this isn’t an ind
ictment of you or your island. I’m simply asking you to commit an error of omission. When Wong asks about me, I’d really appreciate it if you’d simply say you have no clue where I am. Or, you can just shake your head or something if you don’t want to say anything that could be held against you later. You know, ‘you have the right to remain silent’?”
“I’m sorry, but it really cranks me to have to play the dumb ass to some off-island detective who probably already thinks I’m two pineapples short of a load just because I live here.”
I considered backpedalling, telling Darryl if he didn’t want to do it, I’d be okay. But instead I said, “Wong’s got his faults, but he’s not like that, really.”
Darryl worked his jaw back and forth a couple of times. “Okay, but this will just be between you and me, right? Ewa doesn’t know the guy who stayed here is accused of the murders up at the Lodge because she’s been so busy with the baby she hasn’t been watching the news.”
“That’s good,” I said.
“And I’m not going to tell her about you being involved in that drug stuff, either. She’ll just worry and that’s not good for her breastfeeding. I’ll tell her you’re hiding from a guy you owe money to. And I’ll say the cops are looking for you because the guy’s got a brother who’s a cop.”
Seemed I wasn’t the only accomplished liar in the room.
Darryl paid me my wages from a locked cash box he kept above the refrigerator. I thanked him and gave him a quick hug. “Tell Ewa I really appreciate her giving me the job. I’m sorry I can’t stay on next week to help. I enjoyed working here, and I appreciate her teaching me to make excellent French press coffee.”
“You take care, Penny. And don’t worry. As far as we’re concerned, we haven’t seen you since we left for Honolulu.”
“Mahalo, Darryl.”
I went out the back door and crept alongside the greenhouse hoping to keep out of sight of Mr. Ho. I saw his shadow moving around inside, and it pained me to not be able to give him a proper aloha since I was leaving. Maybe I’d reconsider and come back to visit after I’d made my appearance at ‘Disney World.’
***
I walked back to Auntie Cora’s. I’d put my hat and scarf back on and I’d resumed the tutu walk. After a block or two I was so nervous it was hard to keep up the slow pace.
I had to get back to the Lodge. It’d already been an hour since I’d left and Kate had probably chewed her nails down to the quick.
“Auntie Cora, do you have a car?” I said as I came into Cora’s kitchen. She was sitting at the table with a tabby cat in her lap.
“A car? Of course I have a car.”
“May I borrow it? I need to drive up to the Lodge.”
“Why don’t you take the shuttle? It takes you right to the front door.”
“Yes, that’s true. I took the shuttle this morning. But I don’t want to wait for it. I’m kind of late for an appointment.”
She eyed me as if she’d quickly figured out my real reason for wanting to borrow her car was something to do with my being in hiding. She set the cat on the floor and stood up.
“I start it up every now and then,” she said. “And my neighbor put a new battery in for me a few months back.” She took a key ring off a nail near the back door. I followed her out into her tiny backyard.
“I don’t know how much gas it’s got,” she went on. “You might have to get some. You see the price of gas these days?”
“I’ll bring it back full, I promise. I really appreciate you letting me borrow it.”
We headed toward an old shed with a roof so covered in pine needles it looked thatched. “This actually was my husband’s car, God rest his soul. He loved this machine like another wife, maybe even a mistress.” She chuckled as if conjuring up memories of better times.
She unlatched the hasp on the shed and I peered inside. It was dark, but even without the benefit of decent lighting I could tell the car hadn’t been driven for a while. It was so covered in dust I couldn’t be sure of the exact color. It was a low coupe, two-door, with a long low hood like some kind of souped-up kid’s car.
“How long has it been since you’ve driven this, Auntie Cora?” I said.
“Can’t quite remember,” she said. “Must’ve been right after Willie passed.”
“And when was that?”
“February first.”
“Oh, almost a year now.”
“No, February first, nineteen ninety-nine. Willie was really looking forward to seeing the century change. But he didn’t make it.”
Auntie Cora handed me a maroon shop rag and I rubbed it across the driver’s side window until I could see inside. The interior seemed to be in excellent shape.
“I think it’s a Ford,” Auntie Cora said.
I pulled on the door handle. The door opened with the hinge giving way with only a slight squeak. Pretty impressive, given the car’s vintage and the fact that it’d been parked for over a decade.
I slipped inside and sat on the cool black leather of the full-size bucket seat. The interior was mostly black with lots of wood-looking trim and chrome details. The dash had both a speedometer and a tachometer, and there were old-style knobs on the radio. The numbers on the round speedometer went from zero to one hundred forty. The three-spoke steering wheel looked way bigger than the steering wheel on my crummy little Geo back home. The glove box was decorated with a chrome logo of a snake, coiled and hissing.
“I think this could be a Shelby GT,” I said. In college I’d dated a ‘car guy’ for a while and I’d made it a point to learn enough automotive trivia to impress him.
“Oh? I thought Willie said it was a Ford,” said Auntie Cora.
“Well, yes, it was built at a Ford Mustang plant, but it’s a special model. Do you know what year it is?”
“Willie got it new. Let me see, that would’ve been right after he became foreman. I’d say nineteen sixty-seven, maybe sixty-eight.”
“A late sixties Shelby GT 500 is a classic,” I said. “This car’s worth a lot of money.”
“It is? But it doesn’t matter. I can’t sell it. One of the last things Willie said to me was, Don’t ever sell my car.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t drive it. Mahalo anyway,” I said. I got out and carefully closed the door.
Auntie Cora stepped over and yanked the door back open. “No, no. He loved to show it off. He’d be happy someone’s taking it out on the road. Just drive careful.”
I wiped the windows off enough to see out the front and back and then wiped a patch off the front hood. The paint job turned out to be a deep blue with fat white racing stripes. There was probably much more to see, but it was going to take a car wash and a complete detailing to reveal the car’s full glory.
I got back inside and rolled down the window. Auntie Cora handed me the keys. I pumped the gas pedal a couple of times and turned the key. The car sputtered once and then roared to life. It rumbled like a volcano about to blow. I felt like I’d raised the dead.
Smoke belched from the tailpipe as I cautiously inched my way out of the shed. I looked in the rearview mirror. Auntie Cora was waving. I shot her a shaka as I turned onto Lana’i Street. The engine throbbed under the hood like a beast on the prowl.
CHAPTER 22
There was no sneaking around town in Willie’s Shelby GT 500. The engine growled in a bass register so low it probably set dogs to howling. I wouldn’t know, though, since I was moving too fast to hear any downstream effects. I’d been gone almost an hour and a half by then and I was worried Kate might’ve left her office. I tried to take it easy, but the car had only two speeds—stop and go like hell. I roared up to the Lodge and turned into the self-park area. I felt like all eyes were on me as I searched for a space wide enough to avoid door dings.
I got out and dutifully locked the doors. I wished I had access to a computer so I could check the value of the Shelby online. I wasn’t sure, since I no longer hung around with hardcore car buffs, but I figured if Willi
e’s Mustang turned out to be an authentic late-sixties Shelby GT 500 it could be worth forty, maybe even fifty-thousand dollars.
But that was for another time. I needed to mentally switch gears and concentrate on getting to the bottom of Deedee’s murder. I owed it to Tyler to not leave him in the lurch if it turned out my statement could exonerate him. On the other hand, I wasn’t going to blow my cover if it turned out he had blood on his hands. I made myself walk in my stooped posture toward the Lodge entrance and managed a stiff little bow for the uniformed doorman holding the door open for me.
I nodded at the desk clerk as if we were old acquaintances. Once I was out of sight of guests or staff members, I clipped down the hall to the housekeeping services office. When I got to the door, I knocked.
No answer.
I knocked louder. It was inconceivable that Kate hadn’t heard the first knock, since her office isn’t much larger than the handicap stall in a women’s restroom, but maybe she was on the phone or something.
I waited. Nothing. I tried the door knob. It was locked.
“Quieres Miss Kate?” said a voice behind me. Even with my measly three semesters of high school Spanish, I remembered that quieres meant, do you want.
I turned. A woman about the size of an eight-year-old was standing behind me, arms folded across her chest. She wore a Four Seasons housekeeper’s uniform, a beige aloha-print tunic and dark brown pants with sensible crepe-sole work shoes.
“Yes. Do you know where I might find her? I had an appointment to meet with her, but unfortunately I’m a bit late.”
The woman smiled a thin smile but said nothing.
“Can you tell me where Kate might be right now?”
Still smiling, the woman bobbed her head and turned and started heading down the hallway.
What the heck? I followed.
I saw a housekeeping cart parked at the end of the hallway. It was outside a guest room with the door propped open. The woman went inside. I stepped up to the doorway, but didn’t go in. A few moments later, the woman reappeared with a second housekeeper in tow.
Lana'i of the Tiger (The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) Page 13
