Big Island Blues

by Terry Ambrose

  “Oh, this is bad,” said Benni. “He’s been talking wacko again.”

  “Wacko?” I asked.

  “Paranoid. Warren’s version of the world might be pretty weird, but there’s nothing illegal about being paranoid. I don’t want to be the one responsible for ruining his life. He’s got enough problems.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  Benni avoided eye contact as she massaged the back of her neck. “He called a couple of weeks ago and said some old curse was coming Andi’s way. I told him to leave her alone and he said she was an adult. We really had it out. I hope he didn’t do something stupid.”

  “You want McKenna and me to look into it?” Alexander asked.

  This was, to my knowledge, the second time Alexander had volunteered me for a job. Next thing you know he’d be pimping my services on street corners. To my surprise, Benni’s expression softened. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was even considering it. Based on her earlier reaction, I didn’t expect her to go for it, even though I echoed Alexander’s offer. “I wouldn’t mind. I mean, we’re almost . . . well, kind of like, ohana.”

  “That’s not a good idea.” She gave the burgers another scooch, then a crack appeared in that strong exterior. “I’ve tried everything. Called everyone. Gone everywhere she hangs out.” She backed away from the grill, gazed at me again with those pleading eyes. “I really don’t know what else to do.”

  “No worries.” I said. Inside, warmth radiated through me. But, that warmth was tinged with the cold that comes from lying. I had to confess before this went any further.

  “Would you mind?” A moment later, she added, “I just keep doing the same things over and over and keep getting the same answers.”

  Alexander answered for me. “He not gonna mind at all, Sis. McKenna, you think Warren might be this blues lover guy?” Great. Hang out the shingle. The McKenna and Best Bud Alexander Detective Store was open for business.

  Benni shook her head. “Warren’s no blues lover. And you didn’t find a piece of paper, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I could see it on your face.”

  “Benni, I can’t lie to you. That was a post on her Facebook timeline. He’s not a blues lover, that’s the name he uses. Blueslover is his nickname.”

  By the count of ten, I fully expected to be homeless in Kona and hitchhiking my way back to the airport. Instead, Benni’s eyes misted over. She pulled me into a tight embrace and said, “Thank you for not lying to me.”

  Alexander stood, his mouth agape, while I asked myself what the hell had just happened. I had no idea what to say, but found myself rambling. “I also thought it was suspicious that Andi hasn’t tweeted in days. Ever since she got that message. C’mon, Benni, what do you say? Will you tell me what happened?” Me running on autopilot was a dangerous thing. There was no telling what I’d do next.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “This is so unlike her.” Benni closed her eyes and kneaded her forehead.

  “Is Warren really crazy?” I asked between sips of wine. It was far better than some of the stuff I’d served. “And how long have you two been divorced?” The taste of cherries lingered on my tongue while the aroma of burgers on the grill made my mouth water.

  “You said you two argued?” Alexander asked.

  Benni waved her hands in front of her. “Wait, wait. One at a time. Alexander, I’ve made some big mistakes. And Warren was one of them.”

  “If it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t have Andi.” A moment later, his tone became uncertain. “He was a good dad, yah? No?”

  Thankfully, I was watching closely when Benni glanced away. It was her hard swallow and the way she bit her lip that told me she was still holding something back. How long had she been keeping whatever bothered her a secret? Years? We were going to need more than a glass of wine and turkey burgers on the grill to loosen her tongue. This was definitely a situation in which old age and treachery would overcome youth and stamina. No problem. I could ease into things with some less immediate questions. “Benni, Why did you and Warren break up?”

  “It was back when he started getting weird. You know, conspiracy theories, ghosts, all kinds of stuff.”

  “He said he saw ghosts?” My throat tightened as I asked the question.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the old ways, but Warren wasn’t talking about ancestors or mana.” She raised the glass to her lips and muttered, “He thought he was being followed.”

  “By?”

  “CIA. FBI.” Benni snickered. “Dead guys on a mission to kill people.”

  I glanced at Alexander, who hitched his chin at me. What he wanted was for me to tell her my own experience with dead guys. The gentle breeze shifted direction for a moment, causing barbecue smoke to swirl into a funnel that slowly rose past the roof. I shook my head at Alexander and mouthed, “No. Way.”

  “McKenna, he seen Great Grampa Kimu.” The big guy chuckled to himself. “Cousin Emma, she think Kimu took McKenna on as a project.”

  Benni’s face lit up with a huge smile.

  The heat in my cheeks reminded me I wasn’t from this land and deep down, the idea of being guided by a spirit unnerved me. I still didn’t understand why I had some sort of connection with Alexander’s long-dead, great grandfather.

  “Oooh, Snoopy!” Benni squealed in delight. “You makin’ McKenna hilahila. You told his big secret.”

  Embarrassed? Shit, yeah. I glared at Alexander. “It’s like . . . he’s here.” I tapped my shoulder. Between Alexander’s Great Grampa Kimu, Good McKenna, and the little evil guy who got me in trouble, it was damned crowded there. No wonder I slouched. It felt like there was a chorus line on my shoulder. “He . . . helped me out . . . once or twice.” What the hell was I doing? Trying to justify the fact that a dead surfer showed up in my dreams at the weirdest times? I cleared my throat. Talk about sounding like a lunatic. “My advisors are not the subject of discussion here.”

  “Mo’ betta you den me.” Benni opened the grill, then gave each burger a little scootch. The flames shot up, but only half as high this time.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me that Benni knew Pidgin, the language of locals. It was a language filled with nuances, shortcuts, and color. So far, Benni had been so strait-laced I hadn’t even thought about her speaking that way. “And here I was starting to think you didn’t speak a lot of Pidgin.”

  “When we were little, that’s all we ever spoke. When I got into music, I had to change or be stuck playing to drunks in a local bar for the rest of my life.” She winked at Alexander. “Alexander, he still got da kine.”

  “You’re right, he’s good at it. So why’d you give up your career? Was it because of Andi?”

  Benni slid her spatula under a burger, plopped it on a plate, then handed it to me. My mouth watered at the perfect little black grill marks. Truly, I was in the presence of a master.

  “Rice is in the cooker in the kitchen, there’s fruit on a platter also. We’ll eat out here if that’s okay. This time of day, it’s still a little stuffy inside.”

  Talk about a crappy batting average. The way Benni avoided my questions was making me feel like a rookie trying to break into the major leagues. What could she possibly be covering up? Time to step away—again.

  A few minutes later we’d all assembled at the lanai picnic table. “So,” I said between mouthfuls, “you didn’t answer my question. Why’d you stop singing?”

  “Bad subject, McKenna.” Alexander glanced sideways at his sister. “You did the right thing, Sis.”

  Her eyes misted over. “It’s hard for me, but I’d do it over in a second. It was my dream.” She pointed at my plate with the burger she held in both hands. “No bun for you? You don’t like bread?”

  “I’ve got celiac disease and can’t eat wheat. You were a professional, yah?”

  Her gaze met mine; the glimmer of a smile flickered on her lips. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”

  “
I was a damn good skip tracer. I found a lot of people.”

  “Fine.” Her voice shook as she continued. “Andi was better than me. She’s a musical prodigy. But, she needed direction and I couldn’t give it to her while I was working. It was my career or hers, so I gave up mine.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I was so happy for her when she got this break at the festival—you know what—I can’t do this anymore. She’s mad at me because I interfered in her career. That big client I told you about, Alexander? It’s Cam McIntyre. You probably know how big he is in Hollywood. They say he’s number one in movies, music, and mayhem.”

  I’d seen the headlines. Hurricane McIntyre. Box-office wonder. Life’s biggest failure. “He’s good at getting into trouble,” I said.

  “Pfft.” Benni laughed. “You don’t know the half of it. I’m his PA here on the island. His regular couldn’t come because she had a baby two days ago. The way Cam started celebrating, you’d think he was the dad. Anyway, before I picked you up at the airport I had to arrange all of his transportation for the day.”

  “So you’re his secretary?” I asked.

  “Personal assistant.” She glared at me, then winked and raised her right hand. “Girl Friday, LLC at your service. Anyway, Cam’s been partying hard since he got here and this morning I barely got him to the photo shoot on time. If I don’t keep him on track, I lose this job and my reputation as the best PA on the island. Andi picked a helluva time to give me grief just because I tried to help her out.”

  And there it was. One of the missing puzzle pieces. It clicked into place with a loud “gotcha.” How should I ask the question without coming off as a jerk? “So, what favor did you do for Andi that she resented?”

  “I convinced Cam to have a couple of his record-label execs come over for the festival to see if they’re interested in her. I thought she’d be grateful, but instead I made her feel like a failure.”

  Alexander snorted. “Sis, you done everything for that girl. How could she feel that way?”

  “That’s exactly the point. She told me she felt like a failure because I did always do everything for her. I quit my career so she could have one. I helped her get into Big Island Blues. I used my connection with Cam without telling her. Now, she’s cut me off. I texted her and apologized, but the only thing she said in her response was that she’s fine. You know what that means; she’s hurting.” Benni’s voice broke and a lonely tear tracked down her cheek. “Can you help?”

  Crap. I hated tender moments. Tears made me do stupid things like agree to the impossible. I knew so little about Andi and it would be so easy to make things worse. To top it off, we had no clue who this Blueslover was. Andi’s bakery charges reassured me that Andi was alive, but if she was as smart as I suspected, she wouldn’t be going back to the bakery a third time. Twice was one visit too many if she really didn’t want to be found. “Sure,” I said. “I can do it.”

  I wasn’t prepared for Benni to grab my hands and take me in with those tear-filled brown eyes. Suddenly, I was back at the airport seeing her for the first time and, once again, she stole my breath away. Christ, she was my best friend’s sister. I was here to find her daughter. That was all. I smiled and pulled my hands from hers. How strange, I thought, how alone you can feel in the presence of others.

  “I’m sorry.” She stammered, “I—I’m so worried about her. After that text message, I called her once, but she didn’t answer. I texted her a couple more times, but she’s really short with me. I’ve even tried driving around to her favorite haunts, but she’s not there. All I wanted to do was help and I’ve driven her away.”

  “Is that why we made that little detour by Starbucks on the way here?” I got it, the parent in Benni couldn’t let go and now she needed a helping hand. So be it. I had a job to do. It would enable me to avoid my personal issues for the time being. “So, um, I need to know more. The smallest thing might be the clue we need. How many years have you and Warren been apart?”

  “Six years. He got involved with some activist group. Next thing I knew, he was pulling away.” She hesitated, then continued. “I kicked him out the day after Andi’s 16th birthday.”

  “Was it the Hawaiian independence movement? That’s pretty strong on this island, yah?”

  “I don’t think they’d let Warren in. He’s hapa—a little Portuguese, Chinese, and Caucasian—but no Hawaiian blood. Not a drop. Anyway, it was something else. I didn’t even want to know. I didn’t care.”

  Alexander added, “I remember you telling me about it. You said he was staying out late, yah? No?”

  “He started going to these weekend retreats.” Benni’s voice cracked. “I was so stupid. It took a few years before I began to suspect there was another woman involved.”

  “So, um—was there? Someone else?”

  It was as though I was watching Benni draw into herself, which I suppose she was. I felt terrible for asking the question, but I needed to know.

  “It was a local gal with three kids. One of them was his. A boy. Donny.”

  Alexander groaned and shook his head. “That’s why you was so upset.”

  No way, I thought. I couldn’t have heard that correctly. Incredulous, I asked, “He had a child with her? How? When? Not while he was married to you I hope.” I waited, unable to fathom the depth of a betrayal so deep.

  Benni gave me a weak smile and shrugged. “She had children with three different men. When we split up, Warren told me they had a brief affair back in ’97. She told him about the boy, but he refused to do anything. Ever since he told me, I’ve wondered how many more there might have been. Anyway, she eventually left Warren for another guy. He got what he deserved in the end because she left the boy and took her two girls away when she met Number 4.”

  I glanced at Alexander. He, too, was in shock. I turned back to Benni. “Have you ever met the boy?”

  “Not me. I won’t go near that place or Warren. Andi went there a couple of times, but she said it was too weird.”

  Had Benni not told Andi the full story? Had she kept her in the dark, too?

  “Something’s bugging McKenna,” said Alexander. “I can see it. You know, when his face gets all scrunchy like that.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Benni said with a smile. A moment later, she fingered the flower over her right ear.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I have to know. This could be important. Did you tell Andi why you broke up with Warren? Did you ever tell her to stay away from Warren and his kid?”

  “Donny,” Benni said. “His name’s Donny. Look, I’ve always tried to let Andi draw her own conclusions. Besides, The Roasted Bean is busy, it’s public, and she was eighteen at the time. Just because I hate Warren doesn’t mean Andi should. He did help raise her for sixteen years. He taught her some good values, too. She does a lot of volunteer work. That’s where her Saturdays usually go. According to Andi, Donny didn’t learn that from Warren. He’s a teenage boy with raging hormones. Wouldn’t leave her alone. Warren was busy with customers and didn’t say much to her.”

  My head buzzed with this new information. Did Donny have a crush on his stepsister? Was he stalking her? “How old was he at the time?”

  Benni squinted at the remainder of her burger. “Talk about messed up, huh? Let’s see. I guess Donny would have been maybe twelve when it started. He’s sixteen now. If he’s still sending her notes, she’s not telling me.”

  While I hadn’t been sixteen for almost half a century, I remembered how easy it was for boys to develop crushes on beautiful “older women.” I’d seen Andi’s picture and was sure the boy was seriously out of his league. I also doubted that the notes had stopped.

  Donny’s crush could easily have turned into obsession—with stalking only the beginning. At this early stage, I didn’t want to alarm Benni, but I needed to keep that in mind. Could Andi be running away from Donny? Frightened people did really weird things sometimes. Could desire to meet with Andi be t
he real cause behind her disappearance? “We’ve barely scratched the surface, but we already have two likely candidates for the role of Blueslover—Warren and Donny.” How many more would I find? And what was Benni still holding back from me?

  What big secret did Benni have? Secrets begged questions. Questions demanded answers, and those answers could lead to finding the subject. In this case, however, I had no desire to alienate Benni or Alexander. For now, I’d take a different route than I would with a stranger. Subtlety wasn’t my greatest asset—well, maybe it was, if you counted being sneaky as subtle.

  “I can see how much you miss her and how worried you are,” I said. “Do you think she might be at The Roasted Bean?”

  “Not at this hour.” Benni winced at the sound of her cellphone ringing. She glanced at the display and rolled her eyes. “Now what?” She tapped the screen and, in a cheery tone, said, “Hey, Cam, what’s up?”

  I listened, trying to read between the lines.

  —You did what?

  —You need a lawyer, not me.

  —Right. Got it. I’m on my way.

  She clicked off the call and stared at the phone. “He’s out of control.”

  “Cam?”

  “He’s drunk and in jail. I have to find him a lawyer. After that, I don’t know. I feel terrible leaving you two on your first night here.”

  “No worries, Sis. We can find our way around.”

  “Besides,” I said, “if you don’t take care of your client, how are you going to pay the bills?”

  “It’s worse than that. There’s a clause in the contract that holds me liable if he misses an appointment. I thought this was going to be my dream client. He’s become my worst nightmare. I have to go.”

  Benni grabbed her purse and dialed her phone as she walked out the front door. After Benni was gone, I said to Alexander, “Your sister’s in for a rough night.”

  “In more ways than one.”

  “You think there’s more to this thing than a mother-daughter argument?”