03 - Three Odd Balls (28 page)

“You think you’ll use a scene like this in
South Pacific Paramour
?” Chris asked me.

I squinted at Ms. Huge and Hairy. “No,” I said. “Adelé’s readers would never believe it.”

Chapter 29

“Who would have thunk it?” Wilson looked up from the phone as I stepped out to the porch.

No big surprise—I had spent much of the next morning washing my hair. But despite numerous and increasingly aggressive shampooings, the purple stain remained. I pointed to my head and pouted. “You’re right,” I agreed. “Who would have thunk it?”

“No, Jessie.” He held up the cell phone. “That was Candy.”

“The cats!” I jumped. “Oh, my Lord, Wilson! I forgot all about Wally yesterday! What with caves, and spiders, and jungles, and murder—”

“Will you relax?” He patted the spot beside him, and I sat down. “Wally’s fine, okay? This injury was just the thing.”

“Excuse me?”

“Our two females have taken to mothering him.” He again gestured to the phone and summarized Candy’s report. Apparently both Bernice and Snowflake had decided to nurse Wally back to health by cuddling him to death.

“Bernice wouldn’t even leave him to eat her breakfast this morning,” Wilson said. “According to Candy the three of them have been huddled together on your bed for the last twenty-four hours. They’re even purring together. Who would have thunk it?”

He frowned at my head. “Who would have thunk it?”

I rolled my eyes and donned my new Halo Beach PD baseball cap. Then I did as suggested and relaxed. While Wilson read the newspaper, I listened to the medley of Elvis tunes wafting up to Paradise from the Song of the Sea.

“They’re starting to sound pretty good,” I said.

“You must have suds in your ears. Read this, Jessie.” He put the paper on my lap and tapped the article about Buster’s arrest.

“A local crime story on the front page?” I asked as I sat up. “Has the Halo Beach Herald changed their approach to these things?”

“Looks like it.” Wilson gestured to the paper, and I read.

The summary of the interview they conducted with Chris and me was blessedly brief since the reporter had been much more interested in Bee Bee’s role in the whole shebang. Indeed, a large color photo of the heroic bird adorned a good part of the front page. “Good as new!” the caption read.

“Thank you for saving me from the photographers last night, Wilson.”

“That parrot might have been good as new. But you, Darlin,’ looked like hell.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Ki called when you were working on shampoo number seven.” Wilson abandoned the sports section. “He’s found his brother a good lawyer. The psychiatric evaluation is already scheduled for the twenty-sixth.”

I asked what would happen to Buster, but Wilson reminded me he was not familiar with the Hawaiian criminal justice code.

“Whatever happens, Buster won’t be coming back to the Wacky Gardens anytime soon,” he said. “Ki’s in charge, whether he likes it or not.”

“He doesn’t,” Chris called from the garden as he and the rest of our gang approached Paradise. Chris was carrying a tray of coffee and pastries, Louise was carrying Bee Bee, and my mother was sputtering that everyone, especially Chris and her daughter, deserved some sweet treats after what we had endured the previous day.

“No pancakes,” she said. “But Faye was dear enough to go get these for us.”

“We saw Bethany, too,” Louise said as everyone pulled up seats. “She’s down at The Big House.”

“Ki’s asked her to be the new manager.” Chris set his tray on top of the newspaper, and Louise reached over to grab a treat.

“Isn’t that fantastical?” she asked. “Bethany will do a great job.”

“Great job!” Bee Bee agreed. He reached out a claw, and Louise handed him a corner of her pastry.

Mother pointed me to the gooiest-looking selection. “That one’s for you, Honeybunch.”

“And here’s your coffee.” Chris handed me the cup he had just poured. I accepted with sincere gratitude and tried not to act too shocked when he leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Merry Christmas Eve, Jessie.”

I Merry Christmas Eve’d him back, and we all clicked coffee cups to the holiday.

Mother scowled at my ball cap. “Any luck?”

I mumbled something about my new affinity for hats while Wilson tried to take everyone’s mind off my troubles. He announced our Christmas gift to the group—a helicopter tour of the island after lunch.

Mother squealed in delight. “I’ve never been in a helicopter before!”

Come to learn, none of us had except Wilson. But he assured us the tourist helicopters of Hawaii were far fancier than those he had experienced long ago in the Air Force. “They have six passenger seats. Six!” He shook his head in dismay.

I turned to Chris. “Which means the five of us and Emi, if you’d like to invite her.”

I would,” he said, and winked at my mother. “Then afterwards she can stick around to take pictures.”

I put down my pastry. “Pictures?”

“Of our surfing lesson,” Mother explained. “Isn’t it a shame we missed our lesson yesterday? What with you two being kidnapped and such?”

“We’ll make up for lost time today,” Chris reassured us.

Louise and I blinked at each other. “Fantastical,” we squeaked.

***

As Bee Bee would say, “La La Land.”

Oh, my Lord, Hawaii is beautiful. Our pilot guided the helicopter in and out of lush gullies, and up and down through deep gorges, while the rest of us oohed and aahed in all the appropriate places.

Far be it for me to disagree with Wilson and his son, but this was clearly the best way to see the island. I tore my gaze away from the spectacular views to smile at my beau. “No heebie jeebies,” I mouthed into the din of the helicopter engine and pointed to a particularly lush patch of ferns below.

Wilson grinned, and as we leaned forward to watch the show, my imagination took off.

I pictured Skylar Staggs diving from each wondrous waterfall, and Urquit Snodgrass stashing his loot in each hidden alcove. Oh, and over there? That field of purple and pink wildflowers would make a lovely setting for Auntie Eleanor’s estate. And that secluded beach? The perfect place for a picnic…and a proposal. Indeed, that would be the exact spot where Skylar invited Delta to sail the world with him. No dreary settling down for those two!

But I was getting ahead of myself. Yes, I could certainly draw on these gorgeous details as I put the finishing touches on
My South Pacific Paramour
. But what about the basics? Like how the lovers were going to vanquish the altogether evil Urquit Snodgrass?

The helicopter took a zig-zagging dive right into Kekipi Crater, and my mother squealed in delight. Or maybe that was me. Whoever it was, Adelé Nightingale decided to worry about the pesky particulars of her mandatory happy ending some other day.

***

If only her surfing lesson could have been postponed so easily.

But no. At four o’clock sharp we were out on the beach. Some of us were smiling at our surfboards, some were frowning, and the luckiest of us was taking pictures instead.

I pointed to the waves and appealed to Emi. “Make me look good out there?”

“Absolutely.” She gave me a thumbs up as Chris handed me my surfboard.

“Come on, Jessie,” he said. “Even you have to admit this is better than spending the afternoon with Ms. Huge and Hairy.”

“With my luck, she probably swims.” I winked at Emi and stumbled into the waves.

I passed Louise, who was frolicking at water’s edge and clearly had no intention of getting in over her head, either literally or figuratively. But of course my mother was giving it her all. I pushed out toward her as yet another wave knocked her over. I waited for her smiling face to emerge from the depths before struggling out to Wilson.

Not that he had much competition, but he was still the star student of our group. He hung ten several times, giving Emi ample opportunity for some terrific action shots.

Boy, how I wished she could get just one shot of me being vertical. And to my credit I did manage to stand up once or twice. That is, if you count one-tenth of one nanosecond as standing up. Alas, it was never long enough for Emi to get a good picture, but Chris insisted it still counted, and that I was “doing great.”

Eventually, all of us geezers gave up and sat exhausted in the sand as Chris and Emi took to the waves. They hung ten and did some general showing off—more for the benefit of each other than for those of us on shore.

Louise looked up from the camera she was now in charge of. “How can people look that good?” She was genuinely perplexed.

Mother patted her knee. “You girls give me a few days and I’ll draw some nice pictures. We’ll all be hanging ten by the time we leave Hawaii.” She giggled. “At least on my drawing tablet.”

Louise directed the camera toward us Hewitts and snapped a few pictures. “Like mother like daughter,” she said. “Great imaginations and gobs of creativity.”

“One draws improbable scenes, one writes them,” Wilson agreed.

“We Hewitts do like happy endings, don’t we?” I smiled at my mother, but noticed she was frowning. “You’re thinking about Buster?” I asked, and she forced herself to perk up.

“I’m sure he’ll will get the help he needs, now that the extent of his problems is understood. Ki’s a good brother.”

“And maybe Ki and Carmen will end up halfway happy,” Wilson added. “It seems likely she and her kids will inherit Davy’s house.”

“So they’ll get a new home,” Mother said. “Won’t that be nice?”

“Bee Bee’s getting a new home, too,” Louise said and waited for us to connect the dots.“Louise!” I cried. “You aren’t?”

“Oh, yes. Oh, yes I am, Jessica! I’m adopting him! Isn’t that fantastical?”

Mother squealed in delight, and Wilson offered more subdued congratulations, as Louise explained, “Let’s face it, that magnificent creature is practically an orphan. Pono’s dead, Buster’s gone, and Ki?” She shrugged. “I’m sure he’d take care of him if need be, but there is no need. I’ll take him!”

“Have you ever had a pet before?” Mother asked.

“Never, never, never!”

But even so, Louise seemed to know what she was doing. While I had been busy washing my hair, she was wading through the legalities and logistics of transporting an animal to the mainland. “Bee Bee will soon be a New Yorker!” she announced proudly.

I thought about the bird’s new digs. “It will be a big change for him,” I said. “Maybe he should live at your office?”

“Exactly, Jessica! Bee Bee will have lots of company since I’m almost always there. And won’t he simply adore the atrium? Adore, adore, adore?”

“He’ll love it,” I agreed and described Louise’s expansive reception area for everyone else. “It has a huge skylight, and a water fountain, and scads of plants and trees.”

“Scads of palm trees, even,” Louise said. “It’s like the jungle itself!”

“It’s far more elaborate than my rooftop garden,” I added as Chris and Emi finally abandoned the waves to join us. We summarized all the good news for them.

“Looks like you get a happy ending too, Jessie.” Chris pointed to me, and everyone stared aghast.

My eyes darted from person to person. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My heavens,” Mother murmured.

“I cannot believe we didn’t notice before now!” Louise said.

“Who would have thunk it?” Wilson asked.

“Thunk what?” I asked.

He reached over and tugged at a tuft of my hair. “It’s blond again, Jessie. Must be the salt water did the trick.”

I blinked twice and turned to Chris. “Okay,” I said. “So maybe I do like surfing after all.”

He grinned and asked if he could fetch me a pink drink.

Epilogue

“A ukulele contest, a full moon, and a midnight stroll on Halo Beach. What better way to spend Christmas Eve?” I asked Wilson as we plopped ourselves down in our favorite spot in the sand.

“But the Hoochie Coochie Brothers didn’t win.” He gestured back to where we had just left the Yuletide Ukulele Jamboree.

I shrugged. “Maybe, but third place isn’t so bad.”

We gazed up at the moon until Wilson broke the silence.

“So, Jessie.” He cleared his throat. “Chris tells me you guys talked about Dianne Calloway yesterday.”

“I thought I was going to die, Wilson. And I refused to do so without knowing your deep dark secrets.”

He nodded and actually admitted he was glad I knew the truth. “Dianne wasn’t who I thought she was.” I could barely hear him over the waves.

“That’s when you moved to Lake Lookadoo?” I, too, spoke quietly. “After Dianne?”

“Once Chris got settled at college, I changed departments.”

“You had too much history in Raleigh, I suppose.”

“Yep. The Clarence force was organizing a new homicide squad just as I decided to leave Raleigh. They hired me to head it up.”

“But you weren’t about to live right in the center of things. In Clarence, I mean.”

“I wanted some peace and quiet. At least when I wasn’t at work.”

I shook my head. If one were looking for reliable indoor plumbing, Wilson’s shack on the banks of Lake Lookadoo would not be the best option. But for peace and quiet? It was just the spot.

“Will Dianne ever get out of prison?” I asked eventually.

“Hard to believe, but she’s up for parole pretty soon. Her lawyer got her sentence reduced to manslaughter. I’m still convinced it was first degree murder.” He shrugged. “But.”

“Will she come looking for you?”

“Who knows?” He gave me a quick glance and then looked away. “But even if she does, I intend to be happily settled with someone else by then.”

I put an index finger under his chin and turned his face in my direction. “Oh?” I asked.

He grinned and reached into the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt. And I blinked twice at the small sparkly thing he pulled out to show me.

The End

Cindy Blackburn is hard at work making more trouble for Jessie. She’s also busy creating another series set in rural Vermont of all places. Find out how she’s doing at

www.cueballmysteries.com

Just in case you’ve missed either of Jessie’s other adventures …