Carol Clark - Burned

“I heard the story that this one was made for Queen Liliuokalani and the other for her niece Princess Kaiulani.”

“They loved these leis!” Jimmy answered vehemently. “They wore them in public all the time. The leis were donated to the Seashell Museum when it was founded in the 1920s. They hung side by side in a glass case until the burglary.”

Regan caressed the shells. “It’s hard to believe this was worn so long ago.”

“Then on a dead body.”

Regan sighed. “On someone who had never been to Hawaii until three months ago. I can’t imagine where she found this lei. Can you tell me what happened when the lei was stolen?”

Jimmy leaned back on his desk chair and looked up in the air. Regan noticed that the pencils in a mug on his desk had shell-shaped erasers. “We didn’t have an alarm system yet. But now we do!” he said with sudden force, then calmed down again. “Someone broke in and smashed the glass cases holding the precious shell leis. The thief also gathered up a lot of our famous seashells and threw them in a bag. A cop on patrol noticed a light coming from the museum and checked it out. The thief jumped in a stolen car and raced into town, the police in hot pursuit. The cops cornered him in an alley downtown, but he managed to escape. He dropped the bag when he climbed over the fence. If you can believe it, they never found him. Everything was recovered except this one lei, the lei that was worn by our last queen.”

“You’re absolutely sure that this is it.”

Once again he looked at Regan sternly. “Jimmy be right back.”

Sometimes he starts a sentence with “I” and sometimes with “Jimmy,” Regan observed. I wonder how he decides when to refer to himself in the third person. Regan stared at the priceless lei in her hands. Where had Dorinda Dawes been when she placed it around her neck? Leis were given in a spirit of hospitality, love, and peace. Regan had read that the memory of having a lei placed on your shoulders should last forever. Forever didn’t turn out to be too long for Dorinda. She must have put the lei around her neck shortly before she died. No one had seen her with it that night. Was it possible that whoever stole the lei years ago knew Dorinda Dawes and had been the one to give it to her?

Jimmy reentered the office. He handed Regan another shell lei. It was uncanny. Shell for shell, they were a perfect match, except for the fact that Liliuokalani’s lei had one small black lava bead.

“Now you believe Jimmy?” he asked.

Regan nodded. “I certainly do.”

He took both leis from Regan and hung them over his beefy index finger. A dark expression came over his face. “If you find the guy who stole this lei, kept it from us for so many years, I will take care of him.” He banged the desk with his free hand. “Makes me so mad.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Regan assured him.

He turned and stared down at Regan. She felt the bottom of his toga brush against her foot. “That lady who died,” he said, disapprovingly, “something tells me she stuck her nose too much in other people’s business.”

“You could be right about that,” Regan noted as she shifted in her seat. “One final thing. I know that Princess Kaiulani’s lei is going to be auctioned off at the Princess Ball tomorrow night.”

“Yes. Half the money goes to Aloha Artists, half goes to Jimmy’s Seashell Museum.”

“That’s wonderful. I understand they’re asking you to auction off this other lei as well.”

“Jimmy hasn’t decided yet. Those special shells have been away a long time. Maybe I should keep them here for a while. I’ve missed the lei so much, my heart broke every day for thirty years.” He paused. “But we could use the money.”

“There’s always that. Will you be at the ball?”

“Of course. Jimmy will sit at a special table. I will wear both leis around my neck. People will see how beautiful they are before the auction starts.”

They could probably use a better-looking model, Regan reflected as she reached for her purse and made motions to leave. “Thank you, Jimmy, I’m sure I’ll see you at the ball.”

“I think I will decide whether to let them auction Queen Liliuokalani’s lei after I see how much Princess Kaiulani’s lei fetches.”

“Makes sense,” Regan muttered.

“Call Jimmy if you need me. I will be of help to you.”

I wouldn’t be surprised, Regan mused. I wouldn’t be surprised at all.

T he Mixed Bag Tour group was finishing up their breakfast in the largest restaurant of the Waikiki Waters hotel. It was a busy place, filled with rattan furniture and tropical plants. A large waterfall cascaded down one wall. Tourists were lining up for the buffet of pancakes, eggs, and fresh Hawaiian fruit that tasted much better than the fruit back home. Gert and Ev always managed to secure a large table in the section closest to the open doors that looked out on the ocean. Ned had already gotten up and down a number of times to refill his plate.

“I’ve got to have the energy to surf,” he explained, more to himself than anyone at the table. “Man, am I pumped.” He picked up his spoon and dug into a bowl of oatmeal.

“I hope you all have a lovely day,” Ev said. “We’ll meet back here for sunset cocktails and share our experiences.”

Betsy pursed her lips. “Bob and I won’t discuss our writing, and that’s what we’ll be doing today. What we write is much too personal.”

What are you going to do if that book ever sees the light of day? Ev wondered. Won’t it still be just as personal? I’d love to silence her. She belongs in the rain in Hudville. But Ev just smiled. “That’s all right. We’ll just enjoy being together. I want the three of you who are surfing today to please be careful and return to the safety and comfort of the Waikiki Waters.”

“This place isn’t so safe,” Joy declared as she picked at the dollop of cottage cheese on her plate. She wanted to look good in her bathing suit for Zeke. She had a nice figure but wished she’d gone to the gym more before this trip. She hadn’t had the motivation. Now she did. Too late. Washboard abs were thousands and thousands of crunches down the road. Her curly blond hair was pulled on top of her head, and she was wearing shorts and a little pink top that she’d bought at the one semi-hip store in Hudville. Maybe I’ll go shopping today, she thought. Pick out a new outfit to wear tonight. After I catch a few rays.

“What do you mean it isn’t so safe here?” Gert asked. She and Ev had a practiced schoolmarm tone they used when they wanted to express disapproval to one of their group members. Ev was better at it than Gert.

Joy looked up from her plate and stared at Gert. Sometimes she got the twins mixed up. She thought their matching outfits were a bit much for women their age. Today they didn’t have on their usual muumuus. That was a surprise. They were wearing stretch pants and long-sleeved shirts, which seemed a bit odd. It was eighty degrees, for God’s sake. “Aren’t you hot?” Joy replied.

“Hot?”

“Why don’t you have your muumuus on?”

“When we go in and out of hotels, inspecting them for the good of the future residents of Hudville who make this trip, we don’t want to catch a cold,” Gert explained.

“Air conditioning can be so drafty,” Ev agreed. “And the last thing I need is to get on the plane home with a cold. Makes you feel like your head is going to explode.”

“You’re darn right,” her sister nodded as she bit into a large pastry. Her mouth half full, she realized she hadn’t yet gotten an answer from Joy. “What do you mean this place isn’t so safe?” she asked, holding a napkin in front of her mouth as she spoke with her mouth full. The pastry wasn’t chewed enough to swallow, but Gert couldn’t wait to ask the question.