Free Pleasing the Dead by Deborah Turrell Atkinson Page A

Storm could hear her book a string of dive outings, the relief in her voice resonating at a level that would leave her customers delighted.
    The morning session had obviously come to an end. That was okay; Storm had plenty on her mind. The Hawaii State Family Court had appointed her guardian ad litem for an O‘ahu child, but the grandparents, with whom she needed to speak, lived in Kahului. She’d called earlier and set up an appointment.
    On the way out of the shop, she paused to look at the progress in the large front room, where a worker was laying ceramic tile the color of the ocean. In a side room, wet suits and BCDs hung to dry and scuba tanks lined a wall. Ken McClure was busy in there with an assistant, some buff, bare-chested guy in surf trunks with a big eagle tattoo on his arm. It was heavy work, and they were sweating as they arranged equipment and loaded supplies into the back of a van with Lara’s Aquatic Adventures emblazoned on the side. The shop even had its own air compressor for filling the tanks to exact safety standards. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were going into Lara’s new business.
    Damon emerged from the back room and headed outside to his truck. Storm followed him. “I’m going to Kahului on other business. Do you know if Carmen was taken to Maui Memorial Hospital?”
    He gathered a load of tarpaulins and paint rollers. “Probably. That’s where I’d go. You think she’s covered by Hiroki’s insurance?”
    â€œYou pay his premiums, right?”
    Damon nodded.
    â€œI’ll check and let you know.”
    â€œThe hospital’s in Wailuku, not Kahului.”
    â€œNo problem, they’re close.”
    Storm drove out to Pi‘ilani Highway, then pulled into the parking lot at Elleair Golf Club where she could make a couple of calls on her cell phone without running red lights or rear-ending someone. One of the calls was to a Honolulu number.
    â€œBureau of Conveyances,” the operator answered.
    â€œMike Chilworth, please.” Storm hoped he was in the office and not out on a site.
    Mike picked up, and Storm went through the usual pleasantries regarding his wife and kids before she got to business. “Mike, how do I check who holds a land lease on a strip mall in Maui? It’s in Kihei.”
    â€œYou on Maui? You’re one lucky wahine.”
    â€œLike I’ve got time to enjoy it.”
    â€œNot surfing?”
    â€œI wish.” Storm could hear Mike flipping through papers.
    â€œOkay, here we go. You want the Maui County Real Property Assessment Division in Kahului. Here’s the number. Ask for Sally—tell her I sent you.” He chuckled. “Maybe you can finish early and go to Ho‘okipa.”
    â€œI’m not holding my breath about getting to the beach, even if it is Ho‘okipa.”
    Storm smiled at Mike’s teasing, but it faded when she remembered one of the errands she wanted to accomplish. Visiting a twelve-year-old orphan with a gunshot wound wasn’t going to be easy.
    She had to drive around a bit before she found the Property Assessment offices, and in doing so, she made a detour around a badly damaged, once-elegant restaurant surrounded by warning signs, crime tape, and a handful of official-looking people. The site of the explosion that had tied up traffic on Wednesday. Still under investigation, and it probably would be for days. She parked a few blocks away and walked by the place. The whole left corner of the building had been ripped off, revealing a scattering of dining tables and tattered linens, along with part of the sign, which now said “—lue Marine.”
    When she got to the Property Assessment offices, she was sweating from the bright, hot sun. Inside, though, the air conditioning was set to January in Nova Scotia. The clerk who told Storm that Sally was at lunch wore a sweater buttoned to the neck.
    â€œShe should be back in a half