Big Island Blues

by Terry Ambrose

  Benni shook her head as she watched my face. She’d made fun of me for the bird incident on the lanai. I didn’t dare get specific for fear of—what? What would she do to me that Kimu couldn’t? He could just pop in anytime, she’d have to fly commercial.

  My confidence bolstered, I continued. “And there was, uh, money involved.” Let’s just skip the fact that we were talking about gleaming Spanish doubloons, a currency that was never even used in Hawaii.

  The smile on Andi’s face fell; her eyes misted over. “What about my dad?”

  I stared at my hands, contemplating how I might answer that one. I’d dug a hole in the sand. Why not just cover myself up while I was at it? “Warren? No. But, Shaw was there.” In the form of a cow. What an idiot I’d been for bringing this up. It had to end. “The question is, what’s Mike Breenfield’s secret and how do we prove he’s the one in charge?”

  “It looks like Marylyn got five grand for the guitar,” said Roxy. “But, she was just getting paid off. McKenna, that means if you’re right about this other guy, he’s got a lot more money at stake. Benni, you said Mike Breenfield is running for office. What’s his agenda?”

  “I have no idea.” Benni raised both hands, then let them flop back into her lap.

  “Well, I do.” Andi’s facial muscles tightened into a mask of indignation. “He wants to put a shopping center on some land he owns. His only agenda is to make a ton of money on his investment.”

  The flurry of comments fell into the background as the image of golden coins turning black and falling into the ocean came back to me. Shortly after that, I heard someone calling my name.

  As usual, Alexander was the one who understood. “You remembered something. Huh, brah?”

  “It’s old money,” I said, nodding. I looked at Benni, unable to reveal what I suspected, that Breenfield’s cash was the kind of money that would turn black with greed. “Mike Breenfield was the busboy at the bar, yah?”

  “For a few years. He opened the shop right after that. One day he just announced he’d inherited a few thousand bucks and quit.”

  In a way, he had inherited the money. But, it hadn’t been from a long-lost relative. No, that money had come from the robbery. “Where does a busboy get thousands of dollars? Enough to open his own store?”

  Alexander fingered his chin; there was a slight smile on his lips. “McKenna, you thinking he saw the robbery and stole the money when no one was looking?”

  “No way,” said Benni. “He couldn’t have even known about it. He was inside.”

  “He would have heard the gunshots. Why wouldn’t he come running?” I looked at her. She appeared uncomfortable with this entire discussion. I said, “Tell me again about the robbery.”

  “I told you before. It’s kind of a blur. Sam and I got held up at gunpoint by two masked robbers. One was big, the other one small. Shaw killed the one who was beating up on me and the small one ran away.”

  “So the robbery got them nothing?” I asked.

  Benni waved a hand in the air. “Of course not, the one got away with the bag of money.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Roxy.

  “What do you mean, am I sure?” Benni sounded indignant. “The money was never found. It had to be the little one who got it.”

  One glance at Roxy and I could clearly see that we on the same track. Skip was nodding also, which quite likely meant the three of us were working along the same line of reasoning.

  “How big was the cash bag?” Skip motioned with his hands, forming a small size, then larger.

  “About this big.” Benni showed us something about six inches by four.

  “How much cash was in the bag?” I asked.

  “Two thousand something. The owner usually walked it down the street to the bank, but he’d been sick for a few days. That night he had Sam and me make the deposit. Sam had done it a few times before. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Think carefully, Benni,” I said. “Did you see it in the robber’s hand as she ran away—I assume that was Marylyn.”

  Benni glanced up at the ceiling, staring blankly for an excruciatingly long time. When she spoke, her voice was hesitant. “I never saw her again after I got knocked down, but now that I think about it, she couldn’t have. She never got close to the body and that’s where the bag was, at the big guy’s feet after Shaw killed him.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” I said. “You told me earlier that Warren saw what happened.”

  “I don’t know whether he did or not,” said Benni. “He claimed it was murder when he talked to me.”

  Roxy asked, “Benni, what did you do when Shaw jumped in and shot your attacker?”

  “Sam was already down because he was hurt. I was trying to hold myself together and help Sam. I didn’t even think about the money at that point.”

  “So the cash was at the dead man’s feet and you were with Sam.” Skip’s comment seemed obvious, but his question was exactly the one I wanted to ask. “Could someone else have slipped over to the body and taken the cash bag?”

  It appeared as though Benni was weighing her options. “I suppose. When the cops asked me I told them the robber got the cash because that’s what I assumed happened. Maybe I was wrong.”

  “So if Warren was busy convincing Shaw to leave and you were focused on Sam, the cash bag was laying there next to a dead man. Mike could have heard the shots, come out of the bar, seen the perfect opportunity, and walked off with a couple of grand. If that’s the case, he probably got worried that if you and Shaw ever started talking again, this might come out.”

  Roxy held up a hand, her fingers splayed. “McKenna, high five, I think you’ve nailed it.”

  “The cops could never make a case against him, but his political opponents certainly could. That’s the kind of skeleton that could kill him in any election.” I felt my blood pumping faster as the thrill of exposing Breenfield consumed me. I looked at Andi, struggling to hold my voice steady. “If you’re right about that land deal, it could cost him a bundle.”

  Benni didn’t look convinced. “What’s the guitar got to do with this? Why would he want Shaw’s old Martin? It’s not worth that much.”

  “They didn’t want the guitar, they wanted Shaw. I think it was Mike’s misfortune to team up with someone who had a vendetta against Shaw. That was Art Swenson, Jr. and his mother. And then there’s Donny. Even though he’s your step-brother, I think he has a crush on you, Andi.” It made sense to me. The girl was hot with a capital H.

  Andi grimaced. “He helped me out when I needed it. I’m glad he was there.”

  “Did you notice how he had his fingers in every little detail, though? He knows more than he’s saying and I’m sure that once he understands Mike poses a threat to you, he’ll turn against him in a second.” I had to find Donny, talk to him, and get him to see the big picture. I thought about the most likely place to find him. “Can someone give me a ride to The Roasted Bean?”

  My heart nearly stopped. I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Everybody’s hand had gone up, including Benni’s.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Weird as it sounds, nobody wanted to be left out of this little junket to The Roasted Bean. I guess we’d all been through so much that we each had our separate reasons for wanting to finish it off. With no dropouts, we eventually agreed the best plan was to go for maximum mobility and take multiple vehicles. Benni and Roxy led the way in Benni’s car. Skip and I followed in his rental. Alexander and Andi brought up the rear.

  Skip drove, which gave me time to check the other cars every 8 seconds. At one point, Skip said, “You’ll have plenty of time to be nervous when we get there.”

  “This is just like junior high,” I said. “We’ve got the boys in one car, girls in the other, with adult supervision of the youngest.”

  “Yeah,” said Skip. “Look at them.” He pointed ahead to Benni’s car.

  Skip and I had the air conditioning cranked up and were riding in comfort toward do
wntown Kona. The girls had the windows open, their hair blowing in the breeze, and they were engaged in a highly animated discussion. They’d started out slow, but were now laughing and gesturing as though they’d been best friends forever. “Scary,” I said.

  As Commander in Chief of this little safari I had assigned everyone a role. Skip and I were the ones who would enter the store. Benni and Roxy were to be our backup and guard the doors, thus preventing Donny from making a run for it. The way they were carrying on, I wasn’t sure they’d even see Donny, let alone be able to stop him.

  At the Coconut Grove Marketplace, Benni grabbed one of the first open spaces she found. Skip said he’d rather be closer and cruised a couple of aisles before finding one toward the front. Alexander used a spot near us. We all watched Benni and Roxy, laughing and talking as they crossed the lot toward us.

  “I’m getting concerned,” I said.

  “About?” asked Skip.

  I raised my chin in the direction of Benni and Roxy. “Those two. They’re getting along far better than I expected.”

  Skip glanced at me. “Tell me about it. Roxy doesn’t have girlfriends. I don’t know if it’s too much competition or what, but I’ve never seen her like this around another woman. Scares the hell out of me.”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “We met less than two years ago. It’s been a rocky ride. But, I’m with you. Those two are frightening together. What’s with you and Benni?”

  I winced at the thought of what I’d ruined. With Andi just out of earshot and approaching fast, I wasn’t about to go into details. “We’re just friends.” I pointed at Alexander. “That guy’s my best friend.”

  Skip eyed me for a second, then nodded. “Best way to go, just friends.”

  There was no time for me to tell him it didn’t feel anything like the best way to go.

  Andi stood next to me, pouting. “I’m relegated to being backup to the backup. Is that what I am?”

  “We don’t know what Donny’s going to do when he sees us. If he makes a run for it out the back door, you and Alexander will have to chase him down. He’s already proven himself to be a sneaky little bugger, so I want to be positive there’s no way out of this trap.”

  “Believe me,” said Skip. “I’ve seen guys get away because there was one unguarded opening. Right now we have the element of surprise and we don’t want to lose that.”

  When Benni and Roxy were about ten feet away, there was a break in their almost hysterical laughter. I heard Roxy say, “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “What’s so funny, you two?” I asked with a smile.

  Benni didn’t answer, but glanced at Roxy. She smiled back, then said, “Oh nothing. Just girl talk. Which way?”

  “Follow me.” I led our little troupe across the parking lot. I didn’t want to confront Donny, not in the least. This, however, was the right thing to do. I had to finish what I’d started. Then, I could go home with a clear conscience, and a broken heart.

  Andi and Alexander stationed themselves outside the back door of The Roasted Bean. I doubted that even Donny would try to make his escape through the back room storage and garbage cans, but, as Skip had noted, we didn’t want to take any chances. Roxy stood to the right of the side door, Benni guarded the front. Skip and I went inside.

  It took about 2 seconds to realize Donny was nowhere to be seen. Raylene stood behind the counter chatting with another employee. When she saw me, she tried slipping into the back room, but stopped when I called after her. “Raylene, can I talk to you for a second?”

  She let out a sigh, but faced me. As she did, she pulled her dark hair to one side. “Yes?”

  “Have you heard about Warren?”

  Her bangs fell back into place, wiggling from side-to-side with the shaking of her head.

  “He was shot this morning at South Point. He didn’t make it.”

  At first she stared at me, then her shock gave way to anger. “No! That can’t be. What about us? The store? Are we gonna lose our jobs?”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but this girl was so young she might not have seen death in her life. Perhaps anger was easier for her to manage than dealing with loss. I cleared my throat and ignored her questions. “I’m looking for Donny. We have some unfinished business.”

  “He came in and got all his stuff. Does he know?” Raylene shook her head so her bangs flipped back out of the way. For a moment, I saw both eyes: brown, glistening, and the recognition of fear dawning. “Then he left. I don’t know anything else.”

  “Please, Raylene. I really need to speak with him. He’s into something that’s way over his head. We need to let him know his dad didn’t die in vain.” It was total BS, but maybe it would work. “Tell me where Donny went.”

  The girl’s shoulders shook and her breath became ragged. She slumped against the counter and wiped her cheek with one hand. “I don’t know,” she cried. “He just said he was going home.”

  So, we were back to Warren’s house again. We had no time for a mixup, though, it was best to be positive. That’s where Warren’s girlfriend lives. She’s got a silver belly ring. And a little girl.”

  “Malama,” she whispered. “Poor Malama.” Her lower lip trembled, and then she burst into tears. Between sobs, she looked at me with red eyes. “You said Warren got shot? Did he suffer much?”

  Much better, I thought. “He didn’t have time to suffer. For now, don’t worry about anything else. Just keep this running smoothly. Thank you.” I turned and walked to the front door with Skip right behind me. Outside, we reassembled. I passed along the information and we piled back into our vehicles for a caravan to Malama’s house.

  I figured if Donny saw a crowd coming, he’d run for sure. However, from the beginning, he and I had been engaged in a test of wills he’d largely won. I was hoping he’d see me as harmless and so I remained adamant that I was going into the house alone. My friends agreed to watch for Donny, should he try to make a getaway. If I was lucky, they weren’t thinking they’d have to listen for my screams should I panic and make a fool of myself. I’d already been there and done that. What else did I have to lose?

  This time, the little girl wasn’t the one to meet me at the door. It was Belly Ring herself. “You! Get off my porch. I told you, I don’t want you here!”

  So much for pleasantries. Her bitchiness hadn’t changed much. I kept my voice level. “You’re Malama, yah? I’m looking for Donny. I need to talk to him right away.”

  “He’s not here. Go away!”

  I held my ground. “Warren’s dead.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Malama said nothing at the news of Warren’s death for a moment, then she blinked several times in rapid succession. The healthy glow that had filled her cheeks just moments before drained until her face was ashen. When the tears began, her sobs filled the room. Luana appeared and gripped the hem of her mother’s shorts. The little girl gazed up at her mother with large, brown eyes filled with innocence. “Mommy? Is Daddy okay?”

  Even through the rusty screen, the anguish Malama felt was apparent. The tightness in her jaw spread through her cheeks until her skin was pinched into a tight mask of pain. She fell to one knee and clutched Luana to her chest. With her daughter held tightly, she glanced up at me and whispered, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Though Malama had been a bitch, I took no joy in destroying her world. My voice faltered with the next words. “That’s why I need to talk to Donny. He should know. Apparently, you needed to know, also.”

  “He’s her father.” Malama’s voice was strained and hoarse. She shot a glance to her right. “Poor Donny.”

  Perhaps instinctively, Luana wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. Malama’s shoulders trembled beneath a face taut with sudden loss. She pushed open the door a few inches with a shaky hand.

  When I stepped inside, Donny was standing a few feet away. His posture was stone rigid and the sight made me want to kick myself for ha
ving had him hear the news about his father in such a callous manner. Nobody deserved that. “Donny, I’m sorry about your dad. We were too late. He was dead when we got there.”

  His voice faltered. “Is Andi—okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. Warren died trying to save her. Shaw Hardy shot the man who killed your dad.”

  Malama stepped past me, Luana still in her arms. She reached out with her free hand to stroke Donny’s shoulder, but he jerked away. “Leave me alone!” He stomped into the living room, where he fell onto an overstuffed, worn couch. I gulped down my surprise. In front of him, stretching the length and width of the small rickety coffee table, lay a guitar. At the top of the head in elaborate gold script was the name of the company that had made the instrument: C.F. Martin & Co.

  Donny. Luana. Malama. Each took the news so differently. From anger to innocent to a lover’s grief, I wondered if they could survive the blow. Malama’s chest shook with grief and tears. When she saw me watching her, she said, “Poor boy’s had a tough life.”

  “I’m. Right. Here.” Donny sucked in a sharp breath between each word. His lower lip trembled much like a leaf fighting the wind. He inched forward on the couch until he was leaning over the coffee table. “I oughta destroy it.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said. “Andi’s supposed to get it for her next birthday.” The dark Mahogany neck still gleamed beneath the Rosewood fingerboard. Even the light spruce of the face showed only minimal wear, further proof this was an instrument that had received loving care for more than seventy years.

  “It’s evil,” he snapped. “I made it evil. Because of Big Mike. Well, he won’t be getting anything he wants.”

  “It’s the people who did this, Donny, not the guitar. What was your part in the scheme?”

  Luana shimmied down from her mother’s side and inched toward Donny. When she stood before him, she extended her arms. “Donny, are you sad?”

  I glanced at Malama again. She had one hand over her mouth when Donny clutched the girl to his chest. She said, “He’s adored her since the moment she was born. I think he’s so devoted to Andi because of the sisters he lost when his mother left.”