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Authors: JoAnn Bassett

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Rita, wife number two, smiled at
that but the others kept up the glowering.

“This can’t be legal,” said Peggy.
“My kids deserve at least something. I’m gonna call my lawyer.”

Joanie shot back, “Oh shut up. My
kids are getting screwed as much as yours, but there’s not a damn thing we can
do about it. One thing about Phil, he always did things legit.”

Peggy turned to Sunny. “Well,
just the same, don’t rack up the credit card bills, sweetie, because I’m not
taking this lying down. I want to see what a judge says about Phil cutting my
kids off like this.”

“Are you deaf?” said Joanie. “A
judge can’t do anything. It’s up to these two to make this right.” She pointed
at me and then Sunny.

I grabbed my beach bag purse and
pushed back my chair. Joanie reached over and gripped my upper arm. Her
near-lethal fingernails bit into my flesh but I refused to give her the
satisfaction of an
ouch
.

“Listen up, missy,” she said. “You
can prance on out of here thumbing your nose at your brothers and sisters or
you can do the right thing. What’ll it be?”

I stared her down. Even if I’d
been giving serious thought to being generous, there was no way I’d allow her
to think she’d bullied me into it.

“Let me go,” I said in my best CLC
voice. “I’ll give you two seconds to think about it.”

“Oh, and then what? You sound
like your idiot father. All threats and bluster, but in the end he always paid
up.” She released my arm. “You know this is wrong.”

Peggy piped up. “Oh give it up, Joanie.
She didn’t know Phil, but she’s a chip off the old block. The only way our kids
are going to get anything is to fight this in court.”

Peggy got up and left. Before
she could pull the door closed behind her, Joanie grabbed her stuff and
followed her out. Rita and Linda left soon after. Tim Abbott mumbled to
Valentine that he’d see everyone out.

“Is it true my father was worth
thirty million dollars?” I said to Valentine.

“That’s an estimate,” she said.
“What with probate costs, real estate commissions and taxes, Tim tells me the
approximate net value will be more like twenty to twenty-five million.”

“That means around ten million
each?” said Sunny.

“At least, maybe more.”
Valentine looked pensive. “Although if Peggy actually does contest the will, we
may be looking at higher attorney fees than we anticipated.”

“I can understand why she’s
angry about me getting anything,” I said. “After all, I just showed up out of
nowhere. But what’s her problem with Sunny? Isn’t Hawaii a community property
state?”

“It is,” said Valentine. “And
Phil was clear he wanted Sunny’s half to be treated as community property, for
tax reasons. But don’t worry. The will is iron-clad. Once the initial shock
wears off I doubt if we’ll hear anything further from those ladies.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Sunny.
“Peggy’s family name carries a lot of weight around here.”

 “You two have a lot to talk
about,” Valentine said, getting up to leave. “Feel free to stay as long as you
like. I’ll be in touch regarding probate court. It’d be best if you could both plan
to be there.” She went out and closed the door.

Sunny and I stared at each other
across the table.

“How long were you married?” I
said.

Sunny blew out a breath. “Oh
great. Now you’re joining the lynch mob?”

“No, sorry. That didn’t come out
right. It’s just that you look quite a bit younger than my father.”

“I am. But to be fair, by the
time your father made that video he was already pretty sick. He looked older
than he was. He was only fifty-four when he died.”

She fiddled with a plain pearl earring
in her earlobe. “And as far as my age, I turned thirty last winter. I guess that
makes me a few years younger than you.”

I nodded.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

 “Look,” I said. “I came here this
morning expecting to hear something about my mom. She died when I was five and
I was never told much about how she died. Now I find out I had a missing father
who’s been gouging me for cable TV service for the past fifteen years and who
died and left me a pile of cash. It’s all kind of surreal, you know?”

“Tell you what,” said Sunny. “Let’s
go someplace to talk. You like shave ice?”

***

As I went down the two flights
of wooden stairs I felt my hand gripping the handrail and my feet on the treads
but that’s about all. What had just happened? And why had I agreed to get shave
ice and hang out with my father’s trophy-wife widow? More than anything I just wanted
to locate my rental car and get back to Poipu as fast as possible.  

I didn’t want ten million
dollars. And I certainly didn’t want seven pissed-off half-siblings. And most
of all, it creeped me out to learn my father had been lurking in the shadows all
along and he’d never once shown his face or owned up to his responsibilities.

“You know,” I said when we made
it to the ground floor. “Can I take a rain check on the shave ice? I’m feeling
a little overwhelmed right now and I need some alone time.”

“Sure, we can talk later. Where
are you staying?”

“I’m down in Poipu with my
boyfriend but we’re flying back to Maui this afternoon. We both need to get back
to work tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Actually, if you
think about it, only one
of you
needs
to get back to work.”

“Not if Peggy has her way.”

“No worries. Valentine’s right,
the will is solid. The truth is, Peggy never got over Phil. She and her father
were always lurking in the background. Phil put up with it because he needed
the mayor’s support for his business. But your father wanted the two of us to
have the money and we’re getting it. End of story.”

 I nodded. “I guess I just need
to go home. I’m kind of in shock.”

“Yeah, I get it. How about this?
When Valentine sets up the date for probate court, I’d like you to stay up at
the house with me. I’ve got a great little
ohana
guest house, so you’ll
have privacy. You could even bring your boyfriend if you want.”

I bit my lip.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to decide
right now,” Sunny went on. “Just keep it in mind. Here’s my card. Call me if
you want to talk.”

She handed me a pale lavender
card that said, ‘Healing Waters Spa’ along with her name and the words Masseuse
and Aesthetician.

“You’re a masseuse?” I said.

“I was. That’s how I met your dad.
I’m also an aesthetician. I didn’t work on any of them myself, but three of those
so-called ‘ladies’ you just met upstairs are clients at the spa.”

“Did you know I even existed before
meeting me today?” I asked.

“Of course. Dying men don’t keep
secrets.”

 

 

CHAPTER
9

 

I got in the rental car but didn’t
start the engine. Instead, I sat and stared at my cell phone. I tried to call
Hatch, but my hands were shaking so much it took a few tries before the call
went through.

“Hey babe,” he said. “How’d it
go? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “No problem.
Everything’s good.” I’m a lousy liar and Hatch picked up on it right away.

“You don’t sound fine. You sound
freaked. What happened?”

“I can’t really talk about it now,”
I said. I watched as people went in and came out of the Ching Young shopping center.
The archway leading into the center brought up a vague memory of coming there with
my mother.

“Are you okay to drive?”

“I’m fine. But before I come
back to Poipu I’d like to drive  up to Ke’e Beach for a quick look around.
That’s where they held my mom’s memorial service. I want to pay my respects.”

“You sure you want to do that alone?”

“Yeah. I’m good. By the way, how
was your baseball game?”

“We smoked ‘em. Nine to two.”

“Good. Where are you now? I can
hardly hear you.”

“We’re at the pizza place. Say,
are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“I told you; I’m fine. I’ll be
back in plenty of time to make our flight.”

“Okay, but give me a call me if
you need me to come get you. I’m sure I could snag a ride from one of these
guys. Trust me, they’d rather take me up there to get you now than have to shovel
your mangled carcass into a body bag later.”

That’s what I love about Hatch. He
always knows how to make me feel better.

***

The road out to Ke’e Beach was
curvy and narrow, but there wasn’t much traffic. It was just after one o’clock on
a Wednesday afternoon. Too late for surfers and way too early for sunset-watchers.
I went over a series of one-lane bridges and past gaping dry caves. But when I got
to the end of the road at Ke’e Beach I was surprised to find the parking lot completely
full. And, for a quarter mile, cars were parked head-to-toe alongside the road.

I pulled into a spot reserved
for emergency vehicles and headed down to the beach. I wouldn’t be long. I’d heard
a lot about Taylor Camp by eavesdropping on my Auntie Mana as she told stories at
family gatherings. I’d looked it up on the Internet and learned the camp had
been located between Limahuli Stream and what was now Ke’e Beach Park. It
mentioned a trail on the
mauka
or inland edge of the park that led to where
the camp had once been. Sure enough, I found a wide trail to the right of the
park restrooms. After about a hundred yards, I had the strange sensation I was being
followed. I turned in a complete circle but couldn’t see anyone. I continued down
the trail. The vegetation became thick, with towering trees and low scrub
blocking out the sunlight. Philodendron vines snaked up the trunks making it
hard to tell where one tree stopped and another started. I came to a copse of mature
trees at least fifty to sixty feet tall. Were these trees where the hippies had
built their tree houses? It seemed impossible to imagine. I stood in the center
of the thicket and closed my eyes and tried to still my mind. But as I breathed
in the scent of ocean and rotting leaves, I once again got the sensation of someone
watching. I snapped my eyes open and looked around. There were a few people far
down on the beach, but no one looked my way.

I’d been barely a toddler when
Taylor Camp was shut down. The tree in front of me had three huge branches that
formed a crook. It would have made a great foundation for a tree house. The
main platform could’ve spanned the branches and extended to nearby trees.

The hippies at Taylor Camp were
tolerated by the locals, but just barely. After more than a few run-ins with
the law regarding their rampant drug use, the authorities decided it was time
to shut the place down. They evicted the squatters and came in and burned the
camp.

When we moved from Taylor Camp
my mom had a new man in her life, my brother’s father. I’d called him Uncle Ricky
or Robby—something like that. But right around the time my mother died, Uncle
What’s-His-Name disappeared, just like my dad. I don’t recall ever mourning his
departure. I guess it was because with my mother gone my life was pretty much already
in free-fall.

I walked out of the trees and
out to the beach. I looked to the horizon, where I’d last seen the surfboards
and canoes taking my mom’s ashes out to sea.

“Love you, Mom. I’m sorry I
didn’t go on that last journey with you. But I’ve never forgotten.” I put my
hand over my heart like I was saying the Pledge of Allegiance. Then I felt the
presence watching me again and, embarrassed, I put my hand back down.

I whispered, “Godspeed to you, Mom,
wherever you are.” Then I jogged back to where I’d parked the car.

***

The drive to Poipu turned out to
be easier than I’d imagined. Maybe it’s because there’s only one way to get
from Hanalei to the South Shore of Kaua'i and it’s an easy, mostly-two lane
road that follows the coastline. There were few distractions and little traffic.
I hadn’t eaten lunch but I wasn’t hungry.

“Hey babe,” said Hatch as I came
into the lobby. He got up from a comfy-looking chair and hugged me.

I looked up at him. Staring into
his anxious brown eyes I felt my throat start to close up. My eyes burned.

“Let’s go to the room,” I
croaked. I made it through the lobby and down the walkway before I felt a
tickle on my cheek. I swiped away a tear. Then my nose started in. When I
snuffed it up, Hatch dug around in his pocket and handed me a wadded-up tissue.

“It’s kinda mashed up, but it’s
clean,” he said.


Mahalo
,” I said. “I must
be getting a cold or something.”

We got to the room and as Hatch
closed the door behind us, something inside me shattered. Hatch led me to the
sofa and we sat down. He put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him,
hoping to blot out the memory of the last four hours.

After a few minutes of silence,
I launched into an account of why Valentine Fabares had asked me to come to
Kaua'i

“The lawyer read your dad’s will?”
Hatch said. “And you say he left you some money?”

I’d soft-peddled the enormity of
my inheritance. I still hadn’t decided how I felt about it, and I didn’t know
how long probate might take, so the less said the better.

“Yeah. He was a businessman.
Owned a company here in the islands.”

“What was his name?”

“Phillip J. Wilkerson, the
Third.”


The Third
? Boy howdy,
sounds like you come from some upper-crust folks.”

“Either that or my grandparents
were too lazy to come up with an original name.”

“Maybe that’s why your father got
so creative when he named you.”

I blew out a sigh.

“You say he lived here in Hawaii?”

“I guess so. He said he started
his company in the eighties.”

“Then why didn’t he come get you
after your mom died?”

Good question, but not one I
cared to ponder. “From the looks of things, ditching people was something he
was really good at,” I said.

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