Page 17 of Tiki Beach
“Meanwhile, we need to investigate Mayor Santos more thoroughly,” Ilima said. “Follow the money trail back to these developers. I can use that in my campaign once I have something solid.”
My phone buzzed yet again. This time it was Edith Pepperwhite, the Red Hats’ most outspoken member: “Kat, Lei Texeira just called about Pearl’s POISONING! Was it the tea? Call me IMMEDIATELY!”
I showed the message to Keone, who raised an eyebrow. “The Red Hat intelligence network is activating. Between Edith, Josie, Clara, and Rita, they probably know more town gossip than the NSA.”
“Don’t forget Opal,” I added. “Her rune reading was spot-on about the danger.”
“That reminds me,” Ilima said, reaching into her large handbag. “I brought something that might help.” She pulled out a sleek laptop. “Pearl gave me copies of some of the preliminary historical research on the garden project. Not the evidence against Santos—she kept that secure—but background on the extended site itself. It might give us some direction.”
As Ilima opened the laptop, Keone turned to me with a grin. “So much for our quiet life running a small-town post office and occasionally solving minor mysteries.”
“Hey, at least Tiki isn’t here giving us stink eye for getting involved,” I quipped.
“No, but my mother is,” he whispered, gesturing to Ilima, who was now typing with fierce concentration, her lei po‘o bobbing with each keystroke.
“I heard that,” she said without looking up. “And for the record, I’m extremely proud of you both for helping Pearl.” She paused, fixing us with a warm but determined gaze. “Now, shall we catch ourselves a poisoner and corrupt mayor, or would you prefer to continue whispering about me as if I’m not three feet away?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we replied in unison.
I took out my phone. “And I need food if we’re going to be here any longer. I’ll call Opal and Artie and see if they’ve got any leftovers we can heat up.”
With that, we gathered around Ilima’s laptop, beginning a deep dive into land records, historical documents, and the tangled web of Maui politics.
Outside, the evening deepened into night, crickets and frogs began their chorus, and somewhere across town, a cat named Tiki was plotting from atop a refrigerator.
6
We spent an hour or two poring over historical websites with Ilima until her orchids had wilted and so had her energy. “I’m going home to bed,” she announced. “I need my beauty sleep.”
After she departed, Mr. K gestured toward his laptop. “I didn’t want to get into this with Mom here, but a while back I set up a hidden security camera on the porch. Just had a feeling we might get a visitor now and again. It’s motion-activated.”
My pulse quickened as I slid into the chair beside him. “And did we?”
“See for yourself.” Keone pulled up the footage from when we left the shack with Ilima, and I leaned in to watch. A familiar figure approached the shack from the direction of the post office, looking cautiously around before climbing the steps.
“Is that—” I began.
“Pua Chang,” Keone confirmed. “Your trusty postal assistant.”
On-screen, Pua reached into her pocket and withdrew what looked like lock picking tools. With impressive efficiency, she unlocked our door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her.
“How long was she in there?” I asked, dismayed that our investigation headquarters had been compromised.
“Four minutes and twenty seconds,” Keone said, fast-forwarding to show Pua exiting, carefully relocking the door behind her, and hurrying back toward the post office. “Just enough time to find what she was looking for.”
“The mystery note,” I realized. “It wasn’t in my desk drawer at the post office, so she tried here.”
“And found it,” Keone confirmed grimly.
I flopped back in my chair, feeling violated on multiple levels. “Pua and I have come through so many challenges. I trusted her. Why would she do this?”
“You know her better than I do.”
I shook my head. “I thought I did.” Suddenly, I was just exhausted. “I need to go home and get some sleep, especially if I’m going to confront Pua tomorrow.”
Keone got up, pulled me to my feet. Gave me a hug and a kiss on my forehead; he seemed to know when to press in, and when to hold me lightly. “Yup. Tomorrow is another day, and you can tackle Pua when you get to work. You got this, Trouble.”
I loved Mr. K’s confidence in me.
