Free Livin' Lahaina Loca by JoAnn Bassett

if
Crystal Wilson was aboard any of those outbound flights?”
    “If
I thought there was any reason to check, I’d do it. But so far I’m not
convinced there’s a problem. We appreciate your concern, but we think it’s
unfounded. Mahalo for your time.” He snapped his notebook closed. “If
you think of anything I ought to know, please feel free to get in touch.” He
handed me yet another of his basic black and white business cards.
    “If
you really want to hear what I think, here it is:  I’m stunned you’re taking
this so lightly. I’ve got a bad feeling that something horrible has happened to
this girl. When her family and friends from the mainland start calling and
asking questions, I’ll bet you’re going to be hard-pressed to convince them her
disappearance was just a case of her not wanting to wear an ugly dress.”
    “You’re
entitled to your opinion, Ms. Moon. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.
You seem to revel in imagining various intrigues involving visitors. But this
one’s a non-starter. I’m advising you to heed the request of your wedding
clients and let this thing go. Get back to fussing over dresses and flowers and
leave the investigating to us.” He stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to
get going. I’ll let myself out.”
    He
quietly pulled the front door closed behind him. I started counting. Sure
enough, I’d only gotten to eight when Steve bounded down the stairs.
    “Glen
left so soon. Is everything okay?”
    I
shook my head no but didn’t say anything.
    Steve
crossed the room and pulled the bamboo window shade aside a few inches. He
peered down the street. 
    Finally
I spoke. “Your pal Glen Wong thinks I’m paranoid, or a meddler, or maybe both.
In any case, he advised me the police aren’t going to be looking into Crystal
Wilson’s disappearance—now or ever.”
    “Really?
I’m surprised. He seemed pretty agitated when he first showed up.”
    “Probably
just the pitter-patter of his heart when he saw you here all alone.”
    “Don’t
start.”
    “Okay,
sorry,” I said. “I’m just kind of stunned he blew me off like that. He hasn’t
asked around at all. He’s completely convinced the chopped-off hair was just a
Halloween prank, and Crystal Wilson left Maui because she didn’t want to wear
the pukey-pink bridesmaid dress.”
    “And
you think he’s wrong?” He let the window shade drop and turned to face me.
    “Of
course I think he’s wrong. I know something bad happened to that girl. And I
believe whoever left that hair in my car is one dangerous guy.”
    “Or
gal,” he said.
    I
squinted at him.
    He
lifted his chin. “Hey, Ms. ‘Politically Correct’ Moon—crime’s an equal
opportunity employer, wouldn’t you say?”

 
     
    CHAPTER 8
     
    I
was boring Steve by rattling off everything I could remember about Crystal
Wilson when the phone rang. 
     “I’ll
get it,” he said. He banged through the swinging door to the kitchen, leaving
me wondering if maybe Wong was right and I was simply seeing bogeymen around
every corner. There was no denying fuchsia was an unflattering color for a
redhead like Crystal. 
    A
few seconds later Steve pushed the door open about six-inches and said, “It’s
for you.”
    “Is
it a guy?”
    “I
think,” he said in a low voice. “But that Samoan woman who bakes your wedding
cakes has a voice like a guy so I can never be sure.”
    When
I picked up the phone, a deep rumbling voice said, “ Aloha , Pali.” It was
definitely not Keahou up in Kula.
    “Oh
hi, Ono. How’re you doing?”
    We
went through the usual pleasantries for half-a-minute before he got down to
business. “I have a favor to ask.”
    “Okay,
shoot.” I thought that sounded a little tough, so I attempted to crank up the
femininity a tad. “I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
    “Great.
Here’s my problem: I’m headed over to Honolulu this weekend to do a sailing
party for the owner and my cabin girl is sick. Well,