03 - Three Odd Balls (12 page)

Wilson thanked Faye and turned to his son. “Give Bethany a call and ask her to join you today,” he told him.

Chris finally put his fork down. “Why?” he said. “To, like, question her?”

“You know your old man.”

“My old man’s supposed to be on vacation. How do you even know I have her number?”

“Maybe because she’s cute and under thirty.”

Chris seemed about to protest, but my mother interjected. “What a clever idea, Wilson. Bethany was so helpful last night at dinner, wasn’t she?” Tessie smiled demurely at Chris. “And a charming fellow like you could learn far more than the rest of us put together.”

“No girl in her right mind would refuse you anything,” Faye said, and Geez Louise began ranting some nonsense about how all the women simply “adored” Chris.

“Bethany won’t be able to resist!” she exclaimed. “Get her to tell you all the deep dark secrets of the Wakilulani.”

Chris seemed skeptical. “Why would Bethany know any secrets?”

“A smart cookie,” we reminded him.

“I don’t sleuth,” he argued. “That’s Jessie’s job.”

I pursed my lips. “We are not sleuthing. We’re just curious. Ask your father.”

He turned to his father.

“Nothing wrong with being curious,” Wilson said.

Chris held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. I’ll call Bethany.”

“That’s the spirit.” Faye patted his shoulder and stood up to clear the dishes. But she stopped short, syrup pitcher in mid-air, and stared down at the remaining pancake on Chris’s plate. “What the—”

“Sorry, Faye,” he said. “I guess I wasn’t as hungry as yesterday.”

Faye looked up from the dishes and slowly scanned the outskirts of the patio. “Where’s the bird?”

“Bee Bee?” Louise stood up also and started peering into the shrubbery. “I haven’t seen him this morning.”

“But he’s always out here at breakfast time.” Faye tilted her head at Chris’s leftovers. “Bee Bee never lets this happen. The stupid bird loves pancakes.”

I looked up into the trees, suddenly cognizant of the void. Where was Bee Bee?

Chapter 12

“You’re the navigator,” I reminded Wilson as I donned my sunglasses and hopped into the driver’s seat. We had splurged and rented ourselves a sporty little convertible in a royal blue color that clashed magnificently with his shirt.

“I feel like Nancy Drew’s boyfriend,” he said as he took the passenger seat.

“Nancy did drive a roadster something like this.” I tapped the steering wheel affectionately. “Where to Ned?”

Wilson closed the phone book we had pilfered from Paradise bungalow. “Thistle Street, Nettles Corner.” He told me to take a right out of the parking lot and began punching our destination into the GPS system.

I made the turns as directed by the GPS lady, and soon we were heading westward and upward, along hilly, winding roads, passing waterfalls, cliffs, and valleys in shades of green like I had never seen before.

“This is just the type of terrain Delta Touchette has found herself in,” I said at some point. “Well, found isn’t exactly the right word. Poor Delta is lost, of course. She could use a GPS system.”

I glanced at my passenger for an appropriate sarcastic response, but clearly Delta Touchette’s plight was the least of his concerns. He clutched the phone book to his chest in a most uncharacteristic way, deep in thought.

“You’re worried about Chris,” I said unnecessarily and downshifted to tackle one of the steeper hills. Wilson still didn’t answer, so I tried again. “What do you think we’ll find on Thistle Street?” I asked.

Finally, he released the poor phone book and tossed it at his feet. “Carmen Dupree’s the goal.”

“Maybe we should have asked Faye about her?”

“There’s always tomorrow. Faye wants to help, and she likes to talk.”

“An amateur sleuth’s dream come true,” I agreed. “But can we trust her?”

“She’s not the murderer.”

“What? How can you know that?”

“Size. Faye isn’t much bigger than your mother. She couldn’t stab anyone to death.” He pointed to the turn the GPS lady was directing me toward. “Unlike my stupid kid.”

I told him that his stupid kid surprised me as I veered off to the right. “He’s way too trusting, and he seems way too confident in Captain Vega doing the right thing. It’s naïve.”

“He scares me.”

“Vega or Chris?” I asked.

“Both. Vega’s looking for an easy answer, and you got it, Jessie—Chris is naïve. He can’t imagine the cops arresting an innocent person.”

“That’s because his daddy is so good.”

“And his granddaddy. And even his grandmother—my mother was a dispatcher, remember. Chris thinks the police are always the good guys.”

I cringed but insisted we would solve the murder ourselves, whether or not Chris thought we needed to. I cringed some more at the dramatic change in our surroundings. We had left the scenic stuff behind and were meandering our way downhill through an incredibly ugly housing subdivision. Indeed, it got drearier and drearier as we closed the distance to Thistle Street. Carmen Dupree’s neighborhood might well have been the least scenic spot in all of Hawaii.

“Ki must really love this woman,” I said as I made the final turn. “Can you believe he’d rather live here than at the Wakilulani Gardens?”

I slowed down and checked out the front yards we were passing. I recognized some of the same types of shrubs and trees as in the garden outside of Paradise, but no one in their right mind would call Nettles Corner paradise. Along with the exotic plants, almost all the yards were littered with debris. The houses were small bungalows but again lacked the charm of Paradise. Most needed a coat of paint, several needed new doors and windows, and almost every household looked in need of a newer car.

I was observing that cars equipped with tires are usually a bit more useful than those on cinder blocks, when the GPS lady announced we had reached our destination.

Wilson switched her off and told me to keep going. He pointed ahead. “Turn around at the corner and park behind those garbage cans.”

I curled my lip, but he insisted the trash cans would hide us. “We should have thought harder before renting such a flashy car.”

Thus I killed the engine next to the odiferous garbage cans, and we scooted down in our seats to stare at Carmen’s house.

“So this is a stakeout?” I asked after what seemed a very long time, but in reality was probably about ten minutes. “It’s not nearly as exciting as one would hope, Wilson. And it’s a lot grosser.” I waved a hand in front of my nose, attempting to dissipate the stench.

“We won’t stay long—we’re too obvious.”

I swatted at a fly. “Remind me again what exactly we’re trying to accomplish?”

“Damned if I know,” he said and complained for the umpteenth time that he was out of his jurisdiction.

I sighed dramatically. “Alas, no waltzing up to Carmen’s house and flashing your badge. Now you see what we amateur sleuths are up against. No badge, no authority, no earthly idea what we’re doing.”

He shrugged, and we resumed our altogether fruitless stakeout.

Fruitless, but not fruit fly-less. Trying to distract myself from a world-class case of the heebie jeebies, I broached a topic bound to take my mind away from the bugs. “Chris and Tessie sure are hitting it off,” I said casually.

“Yep.”

I took off my sunglasses and offered a meaningful look. “Chris has been confiding in her. He’s been telling her all about his love life, your love life…” I stopped and let that last part linger while Wilson concentrated on staring straight ahead.

“Your deep dark secrets,” I prompted again, and he threw up his hands.

“Okay, here we go,” he said. “What’s he told her, Jessie? What is it you know?”

“You mean about Dianne Calloway? Not nearly enough, I assure you.”

“I’m gonna kill that kid.”

“Fine with me, but at least wait until he’s finished spilling his guts to my mother. Since I can’t get the story from you, I intend to wrestle it out of Tessie.”

Silence. Except for the buzzing of some very large flies who had decided to join the party.

Exhibiting unparalleled willpower, I ignored the ranks of the heebie-jeebie brigade and persisted. “Personally, I’d rather hear about the mysterious Ms. Calloway from you,” I said. “The horse’s mouth and all that.”

Still silence.

“Come on, Wilson.” I slapped at something on my forearm and got a red welt for my efforts. “Whatever your relationship was, it can’t possibly be more embarrassing than my marriage to Ian. And you know all about that.”

“Will you stop worrying about my past? It’s ancient history.”

I might have folded my arms and glared, but I was far too busy flinching and swatting at the stupid, stupid bugs.

At some point he took pity on me. “Tell you what,” he said. “When we get back home, I’ll tell you about Dianne. How’s that?”

“Why not now?”

“Because we’re supposed to be on vacation. Aren’t we having enough fun trying to keep my kid out of jail?”

Okay, so maybe it was my turn for some empathy. I made sure to point out my exemplary patience and conceded temporary defeat.

“Temporary,” I repeated when he seemed a bit too relieved. “We will have this conversation the very first night we get home.” I took a swing at some obnoxious orange thing. “While you make me dinner.” Swat, swat. “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

Wilson grinned and attempted to catch my less frantic hand. “Deal,” he agreed.

He gave up on my hand and pointed to Carmen’s front door. “Unless she’s planning on coming out of her own accord to tell us Ki Okolo’s deep dark secrets, this is useless. Let’s get out of here.”

“Amen.” I donned my sunglasses and started the engine. “As if the heebie jeebies from hell aren’t bad enough, my entire left leg has fallen asleep.”

“Nancy Drew, eat your heart out.”

***

We escaped the bugs, and had turned the corner to escape Carmen Dupree’s street, when a bright red sedan almost ran straight into us. I yanked the steering wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes just in time to catch a glimpse of my mother as she zoomed past.

My mother?

I would have shouted an obscenity, but Wilson beat me to it. And by the time I thought to check in my rear view mirror, Tessie Hewitt the lead-footed wonder had disappeared from sight.

I pulled over and took some deep breaths until my heart rate returned to normal. Then I hazarded a glance at Wilson.

“That was Tessie,” he said.

“She was driving way too fast,” I said.

“No shit.”

“What was she doing on my side of the road?” I asked.

“What was she doing period? And Louise?”

“What!?”

“Oh yeah, Jessie. Geez Louise was in the passenger seat. She didn’t look so good.”

“Mother’s passengers never do.”

***

The good news? By the time we turned around to follow her, my mother was no longer driving.

The bad news? Louise was.

I took off my sunglasses to be sure I wasn’t seeing things and watched as my agent ran over a curb—make that two curbs—on Thistle Street.

“She doesn’t know how to drive,” I said.

“No shit.”

I pulled over yet again and watched in horrified fascination as Louise finally managed to bring her car to a halt behind those friendly neighborhood trash cans. I was busy blinking at her from behind my steering wheel, and she was busy blinking at me from behind hers, when Wilson gasped.

I do not believe I had ever heard the man gasp before. I turned to see what else could have startled him, and only then did my mother’s whereabouts register—she was making her way up the uneven steps to Carmen’s house.

Her flip flops were gone. In fact, she looked downright business-like in one of her old-lady skirt suits, replete with matching pumps. This one must have been her lightest-weight option, short-sleeved and cream-colored. Speaking of business-like, she was clutching a clipboard, which I failed to notice until she reached the door and began knocking.

I emitted a four-letter word, Wilson repeated it with a bit more gusto, and together we stared aghast as Tessie disappeared inside.

I would have closed my eyes and prayed for strength, but the action at Carmen’s residence was far too riveting. The same door that had sucked in my mother spewed out three small and screaming children. They commenced running willy-nilly amongst the debris littering the front yard, and I ascertained that some of the debris must have been their toys.

“What the hell?” Wilson whispered in a hoarse voice.

I remembered Louise and waved at her until she looked up from the scene at Carmen’s.

“What the hell?” I mouthed.

She lifted both palms from the steering wheel in a gesture of dismay.

“Call her,” Wilson said. He fished my cell phone out of my purse and handed it over.

“What the hell?” I offered her by way of greeting.

She waved at me from across the short distance. “Jessica!” she spoke into her own cell phone. “Fancy meeting you here! I love that car! Love, love, love it!”

I glared emphatically, but Geez Louise never notices such subtleties.

“Tessie and I decided to rent a car today, too,” she said.

“You don’t drive, Louise.”

“Of course not! But it was only for this block so I could drop your mother off.”

“Whatever happened to reading The Sultan’s Secret? And if I recall correctly, my mother was going to take a nap on her porch. Remember?”

“We changed our minds.”

“Ask her what they’re doing here,” Wilson demanded. “Ask her what Tessie’s up to.”

I did so, and Louise informed me they were sleuthing. “We were curious,” she said. “Just like you and that hunky heartthrob of yours, Jessica. You two look adorable by the way! Just like Nancy Drew and Ned Nickerson. Perhaps a tiny tad older than Nancy and Ned. But, Babe! That royal blue roadster really suits you. It matches Wilson’s eyes. I can tell from way over here!”

I took a moment to groan, and was well into an extensive rant about my mother’s safety and well-being, when she emerged from Carmen’s. Still oblivious as to Wilson’s and my presence, she spent several minutes discussing who knows what with the children, and then toddled on over to Louise. She smiled brightly and held up her clipboard in what I can only describe as a gesture of triumph.