Maui Widow Waltz by Joann Bassett

Author:Joann Bassett [Bassett, Joann]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781463606657
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

I took my usual route toward home but instead of turning right at my street I shot right past it. I then made a right at Haleakala Highway and then a left at Highway 36 to Hansen Road and then to Waiko Road to Highway 30 over to the West Side. It certainly isn’t the most direct route from Pa’ia to Olu’olu, but by snaking along back roads I avoided the Kahului traffic and the extra miles gave me time to think.

My plan was to convince Lisa Marie to scuttle the wedding out of respect for Kevin. By the time Olu’olu came into sight I had my whole speech prepared—‘That’s what Brad would want you to do; and even if he does show up tomorrow he’ll be proud you respected his friend’s memory,’ blah, blah, blah. I cringed at shamelessly putting words in her mouth since I was pretty sure there were some serious cracks in her psyche. Cancelling the wedding could split it wide open. But regardless of whether she went along with my plan or not I was duty-bound to wrestle a check out of Marv. If I didn’t get paid before he and Tina sashayed out to the airport, I had no doubt it wouldn’t take long for me to become just another blocked number on his cell phone.

The gate was closed when I turned into Olu’olu. I waited at the speaker box, burning gas I couldn’t afford, for what felt like five minutes but was probably more like one or two. I tapped the horn.

“Keep your shorts on,” snarled a voice through the speaker.

“It’s me, Pali Moon. I need to see Lisa Marie.”

“She’s not seeing nobody.”

“How about Marv? Is he taking visitors?”

“Mr. Prescott’s gone.”

“Would you please open the gate? I’m here about the wedding.”

“I’m not supposed to let in any cops or reporters.”

“I’m none of the above.”

“Prove it.”

“C’mon. You know my voice by now, and I know you’ve got a camera on me. Look at this car. Would any self-respecting cop or reporter drive a piece of crap like this?”

“No.” There was a hesitation. “Unless maybe you’re undercover or something.”

“I’m the wedding planner. You’ve let me in nearly every day for the past week. Open the damn gate—pretty please.”

I parked in my favorite spot close to the end of the driveway. As I walked toward the house I was once again rocked back on my heels by the stunning ocean view. White-capped waves crashed against the jagged black rocks of the breakwater. Kevin’s body had been battered by similar rocks only a few miles south.

Stepping up to the door, I pulled myself up straight and put on my combat face. I waited, but the door didn’t swing open as it usually did when I approached. I knocked and waited some more. Nothing.

I knocked again—loudly this time —then followed it up with a finger on the doorbell. I heard the bell chime a few bars of Aloha ‘Oe inside the foyer, but still no one came.

Since the guard at the gate had let me in I was sure someone must be there.

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