Contents
Big Island Blues
Copyright
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Thank You
Big Island Blues
A McKenna Mystery
Terry Ambrose
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2014 by Terry Ambrose
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9859540-8-6
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover photograph by Kathy Ambrose and is reproduced by permission. Book design by Kathy Ambrose.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Big Island Blues is my fifth published novel and I would once again like to thank my wife, Kathy, for her tireless support. I’ve said it before, but being married to a writer can get lonely, and despite that, she continues to encourage me each day.
I’m one of those writers who depends greatly on early readers and for this novel, I’d like to thank the Rancho Bernardo Writers Group (consisting of Peter Berkos, Mark Carlson, Lillian Herzberg, Manjula Pandey, MaryJane Roe, Joanna Westreich, and Kathy Weyer) for helping me through the early drafts.
I also received great feedback from fellow writer Maggie Toussaint and my beta-reader contingent that included Mary Brown, Yifat Cestare, Amy Mair, and others who wish to remain anonymous. To all of you, I say thank you and know that I appreciate every single suggestion you made. Any errors that remain are solely my responsibility.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A painting of three mountains inspired Terry Ambrose to write his first short story when he was a child. The painting was titled “The Three Sisters” and the story, which he called, “The Great Spirit,” was about how the sisters angered a powerful god, who then transformed them into mountains.
Terry started his business career skip tracing and collecting money from deadbeats. During his first day on the job, he learned that liars come from all walks of life. He never actually stole a car, but sometimes hired big guys with tow trucks and a penchant for working in the dark to “help” when negotiations failed.
Much like his protagonist in the McKenna Mysteries, Terry is a baby boomer, has a quick wit, and likes to follow a hunch. He and his wife live in Southern California where they run their own small business. Terry enjoys walking, swimming, and writing. In addition to working on his next novel, Terry writes real-life scam tips, interviews authors, and does book reviews on his website at TerryAmbrose.com.
Stay in touch! Get Terry’s monthly newsletter, “The Snitch,” for scam tips, recipes, contest info, and more. Read the latest issue at TerryAmbrose.com.
CHAPTER ONE
Island time. Anyone who’s ever visited Hawaii gets the joke. This is the land that time ignored. Sure, we’ve got all the modern amenities right down to free wi-fi and the latest kick-your-ass-into-the-ether illegal drugs. We who live here, the kama’aina, sometimes joke about island time.
The truth is, it drives the tourists nuts because they’ve only got a few days here in paradise. But, even those born and raised here like my best friend Alexander see the downside of “no worries” under the right circumstances—like when his sister called four hours ago and begged him to catch the next flight out of Honolulu to the Big Island.
The big guy, as I sometimes liked to call Alexander, sat next to me in Seat 11B. I’d snared the window seat, which put him in the middle. Miles below Hawaiian Airlines Flight 120 to Kona, the blue Pacific lazed along as we rushed to finish our complimentary juice or water in less time than it would take to run the hundred-yard dash. I’d downed my little carton of modified corn syrup flavored with real guava juice in three swigs. Alexander hadn’t touched his. He hadn’t even wanted lunch, which confirmed that his laid-back front was for my benefit only.
“She’ll be fine, Alexander.”
He stared at me. “You serious, brah? Andi’s gonna get the break of her life in a few days. Now she disappeared. McKenna, that ain’t right.”
The flight attendant meandered through the cabin, her smile and open plastic bag signaling us it was time to discard our trash in preparation for landing. I held out my neat little package of napkin stuffed into juice container stuffed into the plastic cup, hoping Alexander would pass it along. “You mind?”
When he didn’t respond, the flight attendant extended the bag. I reached across him, but he glanced down, took the package from my hand, tossed it in. He said, “Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout Andi.”
“We’ll find her.” I tried to sound upbeat, but the reason I’d been asked to drop everything and come along had nothing to do with my sunny disposition. No, I was the guy charged with finding Andi Kapono. Age: 22. Occupation: jazz singer. Reason for disappearance: unknown. Time missing: two days. Reason her mom hadn’t called the police: hell if I know.
The burden weighing on me was certainly no less than what Alexander felt, but on this trip I was the expert. The one who, if Andi didn’t come home safe and sound, would take the blame.
Out the window, the first signs of the Big Island came into view. Today, a mixture of volcanic gasses spoiled the otherwise pristine classic island coast. “Hazy today,” I said. “The trade winds must be blowing the vog northeast.”
Alexander leaned across me and pursed his lips. When he sat back in his seat, he said, “You using a belching volcano as an excuse to go home?” He gave me a weak smile. “You try to weasel out of our deal and I gonna tell all your friends McKenna’s a welsher. No. Can’t do that. You don’t got no friends.”
“Ouch,” I said.
His winced and his smile fell away. “Sorry, that was a low blow. You really need to get out more. Make some friends. Maybe find someone.”
I wasn’t about to add to Alexander’s burden by reminding him that I couldn’t “meet someone” while I was helping him find his missing niece. “Maybe I should just get a poodle. Would that make you feel better?”
“You got a no pet policy, remember? You need someone who gonna talk back and not make you carry a pooper-scooper. Once we find Andi, we gonna have fun. You gonna meet my sistah and her soon-to-be-famous daughter. Benni and me talk on the phone, but we ain’t been together in years. Andi’s my niece, McKenna. I wish I didn’t have to drag you into this. Maybe she just met a guy, yah? Maybe . . .”<
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I held up a hand. “It’s okay. I want to help. I’m happy to help.” I just wished I understood why the cops weren’t doing that. Once again, I hoped I could break the dark mood hanging over my friend. I used my best John Wayne drawl and dragged out the words. “Pilgrim, once I find your little niece, I’ll rope her in and carry her back whether she likes it or not.”
“You just a little skinny guy, McKenna. How you gonna pick up a hundred and twenty pounds. You gonna hurt yourself. Mo’ bettah you just ask her real nice like.” He paused for a second, then smiled. “Da kine world-class music this weekend, yah? No?”
I laughed and Alexander narrowed his eyes as he watched me with a “now what” look. He’d completely missed my impression of The Duke, but I actually understood what he meant. It was worth trying to explain. I said, “You know, ‘da kine’.”
“Tough one for haoles.” He winked and smiled at me.
“Tough?” I shook my head, grateful for the chance to leave the Andi subject behind for a moment. “There’s nothing like it in the English language. That word blows the mind of every tourist who tries to understand it.” Just like a chameleon, context was everything for “da kine.” In this case, Alexander meant we were going to hear a lot of world-class music. He could just as easily have meant only a little—or great—or something else. Or, none at all if I didn’t find his niece.
Alexander gave me a mock scowl. “Like I said.”
“Ohana,” I said. “That’s what I need is family.”
“You got ohana, McKenna.” Alexander put a hand on my arm and squeezed. “Me, Kira. Once you meet my sistah, she gonna be in your ohana, too.”
I felt a bit of moisture building in my eyes. Nothing like adding more pressure to my future guilt trip if I failed. Unlike the fairer sex, I don’t normally get all sappy. In fact, I’ve been accused of being crusty and called other adjectives best not used while sitting in the passenger cabin of a commercial flight. Alexander probably had no idea how much his statement meant to me. Or maybe he did. No more avoidance, I thought. My friend was right. I needed to expand my little ohana. If I couldn’t be surrounded by relatives, I could at least make a few friends that would give me my own sense of belonging. It might only be May, but it was time for a New Year’s resolution. It was time to become a new McKenna. Friendlier. Less grumpy. The kind of guy people might even—maybe, possibly—like. The trip would be a good segue into the new me. It would give me a chance to make a plan—and practice some aloha spirit. Right after I found Andi.
The captain’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Flight attendants, prepare cabin for arrival.”
“Crap,” I muttered. “Island time’s over.”
Alexander tilted his head in my direction, his eyebrows raised. “What was that?”
I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. “I said, let’s get this flight over. I’m looking forward to making some new friends, yah? No?”
In Hawaii, it’s not unusual to make a statement with an embedded question. “Yah? No?” was our little way of politely seeking agreement and then circling back to give the other person another chance to disagree or ask questions. Alexander used the expression a lot and it was starting to seep into my vocabulary.
He stared at me as though I’d gone off the deep end. I turned away to stare out the window.
Our approach to the Kona International Airport bordered on surreal. At times, the view was reminiscent of a lunar landing. Miles of lava rock in shades of gray and black, interspersed only with craters, a paved road, and occasional stunted clumps of brown vegetation in the midst of nothing. Closer to the airport, the harsh moon-surface facade gave way to patches of green. Yet, in a land stripped bare by lava flows and less than twelve inches of rain a year compressed into a few short months, harsh was a mild description.
We landed without much ado. Smooth touchdown. Deafening reverse engine thrust. Euphoric passengers arriving at an airport they would love or hate. Those that loved it cited the small-airport feel. The complainers would bitch about the lack of air conditioning and limited flights. Personally, I liked the quaint tiki-hut architecture and open atmosphere, although I’d have preferred to be here for pleasure, not as an unpaid hired gun.
On our way to baggage claim, we passed through a picturesque gathering area complete with larger-than-life hula dancer statues. The buildings surrounding us had pointy roofs and plenty of overhang to provide shade or protection from rain. Our bags snaked toward us, side-by-side on the carousel. Alexander spotted Benni and waved as he lifted his bag and set it at his feet. I followed his gaze. A gorgeous brunette with long hair pulled to one side waved back. I was so busy gawking at her that I almost missed my bag. Fortunately, I recovered before the bag passed.
Had I met Benni on the street, I never would have guessed these two were related. Whereas Alexander was tall and robust, Benni stood a head shorter and had the trim physique of a runner. Talk about opposites. And completely engrossed in their meeting.
“Snoopy!” Benni squealed. “Welcome to the island of Hawaii. It’s been so long!”
“How’s my big sistah?” Alexander laughed as he swung Benni in a circle. When he set her down, she gazed up at him, still not even noticing me.
“Snoopy?” I chuckled at my good fortune. Was this a childhood nickname? One thing was certain, assuming I could find Andi, this was gold. Blackmail gold.
Obviously, Alexander wasn’t the little brother in physical terms, so that made Benni the older of the two. Watching her face and movements, I found that almost impossible to believe. Her face had classic straight lines, her eyes were brown and almond-shaped with a hint of playful innocence.
Alexander gestured at me “This is McKenna. He’s the one I told you about.”
I extended my hand, but Benni only glanced at it. She gave me a reluctant hug. When she pulled away, she said, “Do you think you can find—sorry. I should have at least introduced myself. I’m Benni. Welcome to the Big Island.” She forced a smile despite her misty eyes.
In that moment, I had nothing. No thoughts. No smart remarks. Thank goodness there were no flies zipping around, otherwise one could have mistaken my mouth for a landing strip. This woman looked way too young to be Alexander’s older sister. How could she possibly have a daughter in her early twenties?
Alexander and Benni cocked their heads as they gazed at me. How long had my brain had been on idle? The answer was, no clue. Nevertheless, I managed a quick recovery. “I’ll find her.”
“McKenna’s da’ best, Benni.” Alexander put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “We gonna find her and she gonna make her show. No worries.”
Benni frowned. “She’s gone. She gets the break that could make her career and she’s decided she needs time to herself.”
Time to herself? That didn’t sound much like a missing person, I thought. As a former skip tracer, I’d heard a lot of reasons why people didn’t pay their bills. More than once, spouses had used that exact excuse for why they’d been abandoned. Personally, it didn’t seem so hard to find yourself, just look in a mirror. But, on more than one occasion I’d been tempted to ask if their spouse could find my money while they were at it. Andi probably hadn’t skipped out on anything. She was probably hanging out with her friends. But, because my life had been all about finding people who did skip, I tended to think the worst. I might have to add “See the good in people” to my McKenna Improvement List.
“You know these kids,” said Alexander. “Andi’s solid. She got mo’ bettah things to do than hang out with Mom and a couple of old guys. Right, McKenna?”
“You two know her better that I do,” I chirped. Benni’s lower lip trembled at my comment and I saw her eyes brim with tears. Good grief, I’d taken the chicken’s way out. Noncommittal. Defer to the experts. How had I screwed this one up?
“We had an argument.” She confessed, wrapping her arms around her sides as a tear dribbled down her cheek. “I’m trying to give her space, but I think I’ve pushed her away.�
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“That sucks.” I hadn’t even realized I’d said the words out loud, but Benni’s quick glance made it clear I had. I cringed at my latest social transgression. “Sorry, I sometimes open my mouth when I shouldn’t.”
A six-foot-tall, well-tanned guy with sandy blond hair and a Billabong T-shirt strolled by, all the while keeping his eyes on Benni. Benni didn’t seem to notice him, which made me wonder how many hot surfer dudes like that one she had in her address book.
With worry painted on her face, Benni asked, “How long does it take to find someone?” She grimaced. “Andi can’t miss rehearsal. She knows better. The band members haven’t heard from her either.”
Pulling his sister close, Alexander gently pressed her head to his chest. “You gotta stop worrying about her, Sis. It’s probably nothing, yah? What about that big client you said you got? Don’t you gotta be doing stuff for him?”
“But I have to know. I’m her mom!”
“Like I said, no worries.” Alexander winked at me. “You focus on your job and that client. McKenna gonna be your bloodhound.”
So much for the no-pet policy. I’d gone from being the one who needed to make friends to being a spy for Alexander’s sister. I’d known the moment Alexander had told me about Andi’s disappearance and asked me to come along that this entire trip spelled trouble with a capital T for yours truly. But, with everything Alexander had done for me over the years, there was no way I could have refused.
Benni pulled away from Alexander, gazing at me with worry in her eyes. Pleading eyes was the phrase that came to mind. Her voice trembled. “So you’ll find her?”
“Sure.” The word had popped out automatically. What a dumb ass. Suckered again by a pretty face, a smile, and a tear. Not to mention my best friend. “When’s the last time you two spoke?”
“Sunday afternoon she called, said she’d gone to the store for some tampons.”
Uh-oh, that time of the month. I stuttered, “Maybe she’s just, uh, under the weather.” I glanced toward the sky. “Hot day.” There, I’d successfully avoided the P word.
Big Island Blues Page 1
