Chapter 13

The following week flew by.

If that sounds like Keone and I let the investigation drop, we didn't. But both of us had full-time jobs with required hours to keep, so it was hard to pursue the negligible leads we had in the busy last week before Christmas.

Keone made his surprise drop-in to Dave Finkelstein's bachelor pad, a funky old house in Hana with all its rooms rented out to different single dudes. The guy refused to tell him anything about the chicken wire reported seen in his truck. End of that clue.

Meanwhile, I snuck by the Nakasone girls' place on Plumeria Street twice after work, tiptoeing around their cottage on my size elevens and trying to catch a glimpse of whatever animal they might be feeding cat food to.

Nothing, and no one, was visible behind or around their house; although the mynah birds were extra friendly and squawked excitedly when they saw me. Maybe they did get some of the kibble and associated humans with food.

The phone tip line was a bust. All the messages I retrieved were strange ramblings from lonely people, or rude, wannabe sexy messages from creeps. Lei had told me that was par for the tip line course.

So, by the end of Saturday, I was frustrated getting ready for the Red Hat group's annual holiday celebration held on the porch of the Ohia General Store. I donned a purple sweatshirt and the gaudy rhinestone-spangled scarlet ball cap a Red Hat member had made for me. With Aunt Fae in tow, we headed out to join the other Red Hatters for their party.

Hawaii's version of winter had arrived with temps that were a bit cooler, bigger surf and frequent rain showers, along with shorter days—though the state had been spared the annoyance of time changes. Aunt Fae and I took Sharkey to stay dry in case one of those showers moved through.

When we arrived, we saw that Opal had put her wooden fold-open sign out by Hana Highway to discourage tourists from turning into the lot. It read:

"RED HAT SOCIETY CHRISTMAS!

Store closed. Private Party.

Keep driving!"

Even so, many a rental car slowed with its carload of rubbernecking tourists as they considered turning in and crashing what looked to be a festive event. I pulled into the parking lot and savored the feeling of being in the group; the Red Hats had been a big part of making my transition to life in Ohia a success.

Our small local Red Hat Society had shrunk in size by one prominent member when that person had been arrested. The remaining ladies had made a determined effort to widen the group's membership by each pledging to bring a possible new recruit to the holiday gathering.

My prospect was Aunt Fae, who had never officially joined the Society but considered herself an honorary member. After months in Ohia, she was ready to take the plunge and make it official, and I was happy to have her at my side.

We parked in front of the shack beside the post office, leaving room for the pop-up tent off the verandah of the store that Opal had set up to increase the party space. Holiday music tinkled from a boom box set on the railing, and a red and green clothed table groaned with food and two large punch bowls at one end of the porch.

"Isn't this festive!" Aunt Fae exclaimed, getting out of the SUV, and picking up a tray of her now famous holiday cookies. "And it's so fun to not have to deal with the cold. I'm not over being outside in December."

"Me too." I shut the car door behind us. "The Red Hats always have such good food. Wait ‘til you taste Pearl's Japanese treats. She usually brings something special."

Josie and Edith, two of my favorite Red Hats, pulled up and parked beside us in Josie's VW van. Seated in the rear, Edith's daughter Lola and another woman were engaged in animated conversation.

I was astonished to see Lola as Edith's guest; the middle-aged woman with her bleached blonde hair had gone to jail in connection with a murder scheme involving Edith and me.