Chapter 5

5

As we drove back to Ohia, Keone got a call from his mom. She asked him to make a quick trip into Kahului to shop for items for their large, annual Christmas luau, held every Christmas Day at their house in Hana. After he ended the call, he glanced at me. “You okay carrying on with the investigation on your own for the rest of today?”

“Only if you check in with Aunt Fae and see if she needs anything from Kahului,” I said.

He twinkled his eyes at me and hit his phone’s speed dial. Soon his phone pinged with a text from my busy aunt, who did indeed need a number of things from town—as did Elle, and also Edith Pepperwhite, our Red Hat lawyer friend.

“Got my list and it’s getting longer by the minute,” Keone said, pulling up at the parking lot in front of the post office and general store.

I had a fun idea. “Hold on, partner. I’ve got to grab something for you,” I said.

I jumped out of the truck, hurried up the steps of the post office, unlocked it, and ran over to the ti leaf garland Ilima had made. The garland was strung up around the edge of the counter and along the wall, and periodically marked with glitter-covered palm frond stars. I detached one and then retraced my steps back to the vehicle. I came around to the driver’s side.

Mr. K rolled down his window, and I leaned in to give him a quick kiss goodbye. One of the perks of being tall was how easy it was to reach him. “I’m glad you were off from flights today. Here’s your official K & K holiday investigator badge.” I clipped the star onto the collar of his polo shirt with a large paper clip.

Keone grinned. “And I’m glad for any chance to be together, even if I have to spend it wearing our badge and hunting for a missing heirloom. Now it’s official.” He tapped the star. “Meanwhile, I’m hoping we’ll get a little bit more mistletoe fun sometime soon. Want to grab dinner tonight after the dust settles?”

“Seems unlikely with all that’s going on,” I said. “But hopefully we get this sorted and the holiday can get back on track. Let’s text.”

I stepped back and waved as he drove off, then headed across the parking lot toward Opal and Artie’s store.

Apprehension curled my toes in my favorite size 11 Nikes—I wasn’t looking forward to ruining their day.

Artie must have recognized my footsteps coming up the porch and inside the tinkling door, because from behind the counter he lifted a hand and smiled in greeting. “Kitty Kat! Here to brighten my afternoon?”

“Not this time, uncle,” I said. I had begun using the honorific customary among locals when speaking to elders at Artie’s invitation. “Is Opal around? I need to speak to you all about something important.”

“Right here,” Opal said, bustling through the connecting door between their residence and the store. “Trying to keep these two rascals off my fancy outfit.”

Today she was wearing a long denim skirt sewn with bright embroidery that came to her calves. The hem was trimmed in flashy gold tassels. Their two adolescent kittens, Tom and Jerry, leaped for the tassels every time Opal took a step. As soon as she paused, Tom grabbed onto one of them, fighting and kicking at it, while Jerry couldn’t seem to make up his mind which of those beside it to attack next. He crouched, readying himself, tail lashing.

“I guess I’m gonna have to put this skirt away for a few more years until they grow out of this stage, “ Opal said.

“I’m not sure any cat would grow out of wanting to get those tassels,” I said. “That skirt is a next-level cat toy on the move.”

Opal used her broom to detach the kittens and chase them back through the connecting door. “Whew! Did you just drop by to update us on progress with the auction? If so, grab yourself a root beer and pull up a stool. No customers right now, so we can all take five.”

“Don’t mind if I do, and yes—I have news.”

I went to one of the glass-fronted refrigerators and helped myself to one of the artisanal Maine root beers that Opal had begun ordering special for me from my home state. The obscure brand had quickly become a village favorite, and this time I was lucky to find a last one still on the cold wire shelf.

Opening my frosty cold root beer with the pop-top opener shaped like a tiki that hung on a string from the end of the counter, I sat down on a folding stool in front of two of my favorite ‘ ohana elders. “Bad news is what I have today. Brace yourself, friends.” I took a fortifying sip of frosty sweet root beer. “The Queen’s Ornament has disappeared from its case in Rita’s garage.”

“What?” Opal pale blue eyes went round with shock.

“How?” Artie scowled, thick black brows drawing together. “What happened?”

“We’re trying to find out. I stored the box holding the ornament in the garage with the other items I had collected that day. I know it was there because I showed it to little Maile Ortiz, while Keone told her the history. We’ve been so excited about your donation. The ornament has made a real stir and brought a lot of interest in the auction, once I told Aunt Fae and Elle about how special it was.” I paused to wet my whistle with more root beer—my voice had gone wobbly at the sight of Opal and Artie’s stricken expressions. “A lot of people came and went from Rita’s garage dropping off items the rest of the day after I put the ornament box on the table. Keone, me, Aunt Fae, Elle, and Rita spent the morning looking through the items, calling donors who had come by, and asking the neighbors if they’d seen anything. So far, no leads.”

Opal’s narrow, pale handreached over to clasp her husband’s thick brown one. The way their aged fingers intertwined as they held each other’s hands was a beautiful sight. It brought a lump to my throat—and that tightened further with Opal’s words.

“I’m so disappointed, Kat. I thought you said you’d keep it safe.”

I cleared my throat to speak. “I know, and I’m so sorry. If I had realized . . . In hindsight, I should’ve taken the ornament home and put it in the wall safe at our house.” I cast my gaze down at my root beer and fiddled with the poky-edged metal top. “I will do my best to find it for you. Meanwhile, I thought it was time that I came and told you what has happened.”

“We have never kept it locked up,” Artie said, with a chastising glance at his wife. “Don’t blame yourself, Kat. Someone saw an opportunity to make trouble and took it. It’s as simple as that.”

“And that leads me to the next part of what I wanted to talk to you about, which is that Keone and I are officially investigating the loss at Aunt Fae’s request. Is there anyone you know who has an interest in the ornament, or made indication that they wanted it? Anyone you suspect might have taken it?”

“Maybe tell her about the Namolo family and their claim on the ornament,” Opal said to her husband.

My eyebrows went up. “The Namolo family?”

Artie nodded. He cast his sightless eyes up and to the left, clearly recalling something.

“As we told you, the ornament was given by the queen to my great-grandfather Liko Pahinui for his willingness tostand up to the troops that had appeared to overthrow the queen. She also gave an ornament to another man, Adam Namolo, my great-grandfather’s fellow guardsman. But before the two men left Iolani Palace and the Queen’s service, Namolo’s ornament was lost. He later claimed that my great-grandfather’s gift was his, and that there was only one of them. The Namolos and the Pahinuis have not been friends since. Now and then, the the descendants will try to claim that we have their ornament. The fact that Opal and I never had children has made them send us letters over the years, requesting that we give it to their family.”

That sounded like motive to steal to me. Maybe one of the Namolos or their friends had seen an opportunity to take the ornament. “You said there were letters. Can I see them?”

Opal shook her head. “We did not keep them. I found the whole thing toxic and wrong.”

“Can I get the name of whoever wrote you the last letter? Maybe they had feelers out about the ornament on the ‘coconut wireless’ and heard it was being donated. I will try to establish if they might have been able to get into the garage.” I stood up from the stool and drained the last of my root beer. I was restored by having a lead to run down.

Opal wrote down the names of the Namolo family members she knew of and handed that to me on a slip of paper. “Only one Namolo lives in Hana that we’re aware. An old man and a bachelor.”

“Malcolm Namolo,” Artie said. “He’s my age.”

“But not a nice person like my Artie. Malcolm is known as a hard man who holds a grudge,” Opal said.

“Okay. I better get going and see what I can find out,” I said. “I’ll keep you posted.”