“What a softie,” Emma groused. “You gave the cheaters a free do-over.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Emma? I can’t prove anything.”

  “Did anyone remove their submissions?” Pat asked.

  “Yes, they did,” I said. “Specifically Urine Luck, Party Pooper, Toot Sweet, and yes, ‘Wee the People.’ They all got taken down.”

  “Someone actually turned in Wee the People?” Emma asked. “After they admitted online they bought the paper from OutsourceMyHomework? What a dummkopf. What was it, anyway?”

  “It was a design for a unisex public bathroom,” I said. “It’s a shame. It was actually pretty well thought out. And there was one more plan I hadn’t even gotten around to grading yet. It was called Bloody Marvelous.”

  “What kind of product was that?” Pat asked.

  “You don’t want to know. Well, all my class’s best business ideas just disappeared, but at least I’m not going to have any plagiarized business plans in the Senior Showcase.”

  “That you know of,” Emma said darkly.

  “Molly,” Pat said, “did you learn anything from Detective Medeiros yesterday? You were down there a long time.”

  “Oh, yeah. He told me Ladd is now claiming the dead woman isn’t Jandie after all. That’s a twist, huh?”

  Emma snorted.

  “Ladd’s an idiot if he expects anyone to believe that. He’s just saying it now cause he’s in trouble.”

  “I dunno.” Pat scratched his chin. “He might be telling the truth. Molly, your coffee smells good.”

  “Help yourself,” I said, although Pat would have gone and made himself coffee regardless.

  “What are you talking about, Pat, he might be telling the truth?” Emma demanded. “We heard him identify her in the morgue, you know.”

  “Yeah, it was really disturbing to listen in,” I said. “You know what sticks with me? The squeaking metallic sound. I don’t know whether it was wheels on a dissection table, or one of those long drawers, or what, but it’s the soundtrack of my nightmares now.”

  “Let me show you something.” Pat came back to the table and set down his fresh cup of coffee. He took out his phone, navigated to a popular bookstore website, and showed us the result.

  “Is that the book Jandie’s husband wrote?” Emma asked. “The one we saw?”

  “Uh huh,” Pat said. “His memoir. It’s still on preorder, but based on the ranking, sales are gonna be through the roof as soon as it’s released.”

  “That’s a shame,” Emma said. “Ugh, he really called it Rhyme and Reason?”

  “And people are buying it anyway,” Pat said. “There’s something else. Jandie Brand’s account. Even though there haven’t been any new posts in a while, for obvious reasons, her followers have more than doubled since her disappearance.”

  “So people have morbid curiosity,” Emma said. “What else is new?”

  “That’s exactly it,” Pat said. “Scandal sells. If it bleeds, it leads. Is it so far-fetched for a publicity-minded couple to have planned something like this?”

  “Jandie would never,” Emma declared. “Besides, someone died for real. There’s a dead woman in the morgue. That’s not a stunt. So who is the dead woman, and where is Jandie, if she’s not dead?”

  “Yeah, I haven’t figured that part out,” Pat said. “What did you two find out at the egg farm place in Kuewa? What was it called, Peter Pumpkin Eater?”

  “Little Jack Horner’s,” I said.

  “Oh right,” Pat said. “I think Peter Pumpkin Eater would’ve been better.”

  “Jandie was there,” I said. “She took a picture of their lilikoi chiffon pie and everything.”

  “The woman who works there told us Jandie had come in a while ago but hadn’t been there recently,” Emma said.

  “Has your friend Howdy Howell been looking into it?” I asked. “He’s talked to Jandie and her husband more than any of us have. What does he think?”

  “He’s been busy trying to get Kaycee out of jail,” Pat said. “He hasn’t really been paying attention to much else.”

  “Are those two a thing now? Kaycee and Howdy?” Emma asked. Pat shrugged.

  “Do you know who strikes me as someone the police might want to talk to?” I said. “Mr. Henriques from next door. He came up and talked to Harriet and me yesterday at the HOA meeting. He seems weirdly obsessed with Jandie.”

  “Just cause he can’t read social cues doesn’t make him a murderer,” Pat said. “I think he’s just lonely. I know how it can be.”

  “You are nothing like Mr. Henriques, Pat,” I said. “Hey, here’s a theory. Linda Wilson. She’s obviously still jealous that Jandie rented from me and not from her. Maybe Linda killed my renter out of spite.”

  “Oh, and then she went and burned down your rental unit,” Emma said. “Finish the job and get rid of any evidence. Makes sense to me.”

  “You two really don’t like Linda, do you?” Pat said.

  “It’s not a matter of like or dislike,” I said.

  “We know what she’s capable of,” Emma added.

  Pat sighed.

  “Emma, she made you go to a half-day seminar. Let it go.”

  “Is anyone else hungry?” I asked. “I just realized I am.”

  “Little Jack Horner’s is open Sundays,” Pat said. “I didn’t get to go with you last time.”

  CHAPTER 39

  “PAT,” EMMA ASKED, “YOU wanna drive all the way down to Kuewa for breakfast?”

  “Emma, if you drive, I’ll buy.” I jumped up and took the coffee cups to the sink. “I feel like a big slug after sleeping in all morning. It’ll be nice to get out of the house.”

  By the time we got down to Little Jack Horner’s, the Sunday brunch crowd had already come and gone so we mostly had the place to ourselves. We chose a table on the shady side of the lanai. There was plenty of lilikoi chiffon pie this time, so we each got a full slice, and Emma ordered a whole frozen pie to take home.

  Rainbow, the haggard dark-haired woman who had waited on us last time, remembered Emma and me. She gave us a shy hello when she brought out our pie and coffee. Pat introduced himself and began to chat easily with her. Pat claims he’s an introvert, but after years of plying reluctant sources, he’s learned how to get conversation flowing.

  Rainbow told us she and the other waitstaff were residents of the facility next door. It was a second chance for women whose lives had gone off track, she said. They didn’t allow any alcohol or drug use. Pain meds had to be over the counter only. Sometimes the women couldn’t handle it and walked away. In fact, one of the other waitresses had stopped showing up to work. Fortunately, Rainbow and another girl could cover her shifts for now.

  “Did Jandie Brand ever visit here?” Pat asked.

  “Yeah, I heard about it. I don’t really go on social media.”

  “I heard a rumor that Jandie’s alive and well,” Pat said. “Ow!”

  Emma and I had both kicked him under the table.

  “But they found her body,” Rainbow said. “I read it in the paper.”

  “So many rumors get started when you have a high-profile case like this,” Emma said. “I’m sure we all wish she was still alive.”

  Pat told Rainbow he was a reporter and gave her his card. She winked at him and tucked it into her apron pocket before going to attend to the other diners.

  “Pat,” I said when she’d gone, “Detective Medeiros trusted me! The theory that Jandie is still alive, that was confidential!”

  “No it wasn’t,” Pat said. “Medeiros wouldn’t have told you if he didn’t want it broadcast all over Mahina.”

  “I’m not the one doing the broadcasting, Pat.”

  “Nah, he’s right,” Emma said. “There’s a reason Medeiros told you. I think he wants to give Ladd a false sense of security, so he slips up.”

  “Oh, so he only confided in me because I’m a reliable blabbermouth?” I objected.

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Emma said.

  “I’m gonna stop in and drop off my card with the owner,” Pat said as we were walking out. “What’s her name again?”

  “Phoenix,” Emma and I said.

  “Me and Molly are gonna be in the car,” Emma told him. It was a good decision. We waited in air-conditioned comfort inside Emma’s tiny electric vehicle while Pat took his time chatting up the proprietor.

  “Hey, isn’t the Cloudforest around here?” Pat asked as he climbed into the front seat. “Wanna stop by and say hi to Mercedes Yamashiro?”

  “Last time we went she wasn’t there,” I said.

  “Did you call first?” he asked.

  “I was already driving,” Emma said. “Molly sprung it on me at the last minute.”

  Pat dialed his phone and confirmed Mercedes was in.

  “Yeah, tell her Molly, Emma, and Pat are coming by,” he said. “Oh, do you have birria today? Right, yes, I know what it is. The goat stew. Yeah. Can I get a family size to go?”

  Mercedes Yamashiro greeted us at the front desk of the Cloudforest Bed & Breakfast, and immediately shooed us into the dining room. As soon as we were seated, one of the interns (not the one I’d talked to during our earlier visit) brought out coffee, tea, and a tray of chocolate-dipped shortbread cookies.

  After we’d settled in, Mercedes swept into the small dining room of the Cloudforest Bed and Breakfast. Her violet and yellow hibiscus muumuu set off the lavender streak in her bobbed hair. I have trouble remembering people at all if I haven’t seen them for a few weeks, so I am always impressed by Mercedes’ memory. She asked after Donnie and the baby and told me she hoped they were enjoying Vegas. She told Emma to bring her brother Jonah down to the Cloudforest for a visit while he was on island. She said to Pat, “I hear you have a special someone in Honolulu. Congratulations, Patrick.”

  “Pat?” I said. “The world’s biggest misanthrope? You actually are seeing someone? You found someone you can stand?”

  “Babooze, how come you never told us nothing!” Emma socked him.

  Pat shrugged and rubbed his upper arm where Emma had punched him.

  “Like I said. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “Molly,” Mercedes asked, “what is happening with the poor girl that was renting out your `ohana? Such a shame, yeah?”

  “You been keeping up with the Jandie Brand story?” Emma asked.

  Mercedes tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a dangling gold-and-lavender-jade earring.

  “Well. I had never heard of her before, but after she moved to Mahina, I thought oh, good for her, you know? Shining a light on our little island. I became a fan. And then came this terrible news.”

  “Did you know she stopped at Little Jack Horner’s a while ago?” Emma asked.

  “I did,” Mercedes said. “I was thinking of inviting her to visit the Cloudforest, but I decided against it. I’m sure she gets those kinds of requests from people all the time and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

  “I think she would have liked the Cloudforest,” I said.

  “Mercedes,” Pat asked, “what’s your take on Little Jack Horner’s? You must know them.”

  “Oh yes, of course I do. We all know each other down here. Phoenix Desertspring has turned out to be a real standup member of the community. Some of us had our doubts at first, but she’s good for Kuewa.”

  “Phoenix Desertspring’s not her real name, though,” Emma said.

  “Well it might not be the name she was born with,” Mercedes said, “but it’s the one she goes by now. So it’s her real name as far as I’m concerned.”

  “She has some kind of arrangement with the halfway house next door,” Pat said.

  “I know what people are saying,” Mercedes frowned at Pat. “But she’s giving those ladies a second chance, maybe a third or fourth chance. As an employer, you’re taking a risk. It’s not realistic to expect people in that situation to get paid minimum wage.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, “Little Jack Horner’s, arguably the trendiest and definitely one of the most expensive coffee shops on this side of the island, doesn’t pay minimum wage?”

  “Molly, those ladies get plenty problems. Who else is going to hire them? A lotta them lost their driver’s license and if they work at Jack Horner’s they can walk to their job next door. Anyway their expenses are subsidized with a county grant, so the residents don’t have to pay much rent.”

  “They were supposed to install septic with all those people living there,” Emma said. “All da kine goes straight into the ocean.”

  “Emma, I know the girls on your paddling crew are worried about the water quality. But the ocean is big, it can handle a little bit of kūkae. Where else are those poor women supposed to go? Oh Pat, I think your order’s ready. I’m so glad you all stopped by.”

  When we got home, Emma put the lilikoi chiffon pie in the fridge, and Pat tucked his carton of goat stew into the back of the freezer. We were still full from our visit to Little Jack Horner’s, plus the cookies and coffee we’d had at the Cloudforest Bed and Breakfast. It was too late for coffee and too early for wine. We sat down at the dining table anyway, out of habit.

  “I like Mercedes,” Pat said, “don’t get me wrong. But business owners, they’re a special kind of ruthless.”

  “Lotta my dad’s friends are small-business tyrants,” Emma said. “I think you can either go into business for yourself, or you can have empathy for other people, but both? No can.”

  “Hey, I think I want to go out and take a look at the rental unit,” I said. “What’s left of it. The insurance company is going to send someone by tomorrow and I feel like I should be prepared.”

  “Sure you want to do this?” Pat asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Emma said. She and Pat followed me outside. Even now, the campfire smell hung in the air.

  “They taped off the front,” Pat observed as we approached the burned-out front of the rental unit.

  Mr. Henriques must have been watching for us. The moment we reached the front, he came trotting down to join us. He seemed more subdued than he had the previous evening, and his complexion was a little greenish. Which made his round head look more like a moon than ever.

  “Howzit, Mr. Henriques,” Emma said. “Eh, it’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be.”

  I had expected to find nothing but smoking rubble and was surprised to find the house mostly intact. The exterior was charred, and the front door was missing. Someone had stretched an “X” of yellow tape over the opening.

  “How did this happen?” Mr. Henriques sounded indignant.

  “That’s what I’m hoping someone will figure out,” I said. “Did you see anything, Mr. Henriques?”

  “Are you going in to look at the damage?” he asked. “I’ll come with you.”

  “I think the police tape over the door means we’re not supposed to go inside,” I said. “It’s probably not—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Mr. Henriques ducked under the tape and was inside the house.

  We found him in the dining area, staring into the fish tank that occupied the length of the kitchen counter. The fire hadn’t reached this far inside. The aquarium was humming away happily. Colorful fish darted back and forth among the fronds of seaweed. Looking closer I could see tiny, pulsating jellyfish, as translucent as sandwich bags.

  Emma peered into the tank.

  “Looks pretty good, considering,” she said.

  “But it smells bad,” I replied. The smoky stench was overwhelming. I wondered how long the smell would linger. Not forever, I hoped.

  “Can I take them home?” Mr. Henriques was staring into the fish tank, his slender fingers pressed lightly against the glass.

  “Those belong to Mr. Ladd,” I said. “I can’t just give his fish away.”

  “But won’t the insurance cover them?” Mr. Henriques didn’t take his eyes off the aquarium.

  “Mr. Henriques,” I said, “I appreciate your offer to help, but I am not going to commit insurance fraud. I will get in touch with Mr. Ladd and see what he wants to do—”

  “That’s not fair!” Henriques turned to me. “He said I could take care of them when he was gone. He gave me permission!”

  “Edward Ladd? He called you from jail?” I asked.

  “No. It was before all of this happened. He told me if he ever has to be away for any reason, I’d be the one he trusts to take care of his aquarium. I know how to manage an aquarium. I have one of my own, you know. Did you know, Jandie was going to post a picture of my aquarium. She was. She told me. Mr. Henriques, You should be proud, that’s what she told me.”

  “You have a saltwater fish tank too?” Emma asked.

  “You guys wanna come over and see it?” Mr. Henriques asked.

  “Maybe later, Mr. Henriques.,” Emma said. “But thanks, ah?”

  “I have to take special care of the yellow tang,” he said. “They’re very sensitive to heat.”

  “Okay, look,” I said. “Mr. Henriques, I’m going to talk to my insurance people tomorrow. Maybe they’ll have some ideas about what to do with the fish. Who knows what they’re going to say? But right now, let’s get out of here before something caves in.”

  CHAPTER 40

  AS SOON AS EMMA AND I got back to my house, I poured two glasses of wine, sat down at the dining table, and called Detective Medeiros. Emma sat across from me to listen in.

  He picked up right away.

  “Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, Detective,” I said. “But you said to tell you if I saw or heard anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “I was just talking with our next-door neighbor, Mr. Henriques. He says Edward Ladd gave him permission to come in and take care of his fish.”

 

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