A Hole in One Murder Read online

  A Hole in One Murder

  The Maui Mystery Series

  §

  Kay Hadashi

  A Hole in One Murder: The Maui Mystery Series.

  Kay Hadashi. Copyright 2018. © All Rights Reserved.

  This story is a work of fiction. Character names and attributes, places, and situations are completely fictitious, products of imagination, and should not be considered real. Information related to current events should be considered common knowledge and can be easily found in real life. Historical situations, stories, and characters are completely fictitious and should not be considered reflective of actual historical events.

  Cover art by author. Original cover image from pixabay.com

  While Napili Bluffs Golf Course is fictitious, the Olowalu Gun Range is not. Some liberties have been taken with the range to better fit this story. Gonzo’s Surf Shop, fortunately, does not exist. As long as we’re on the subject of fiction, while Japan does have a cabinet of ministers, there is no Minister of Urban Youth Development. If a reader tries to make fiction real, they will only be disappointed.

  A short excerpt from “Yakuza Lover” has been edited and used in this publication.

  For more information about Kay Hadashi Novels

  https://kayhadashi.com/

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Prologue

  When Goro Oguchi, owner of a new but growing sporting goods company, was let into the suite of rooms, he nodded at the two men that stood as sentries as he went by. He had to pass two more bodyguards before he got to Japan’s Minister of Urban Youth Development. Minister Takeda was still having his breakfast, the so-called ‘tropical selection’ made from the room service menu of Napili Winds Resort, a luxury resort on the south coast of West Maui. Both had arrived only the evening before, the minister on a government-owned Gulfstream jet, the business owner flying coach on a budget international carrier.

  Oguchi bowed deeply. “Minister Takeda, good morning.”

  “Goro, never mind the formalities. With our relationship, there is no point, yes?” With a subtle nod of his head, the armed bodyguards assigned to Takeda’s protection detail while on his yearly vacation melted into the room décor.

  Oguchi sat in a chair at the table. “Still, I must show my appreciation for what you’re doing for me. I’ve wanted to break into the foreign market right from the beginning. I know this place is small, but it would be a start.”

  “There’s only so much I can do. I know nothing about the Mayor of Maui, and all I know about this island is from being a tourist several years ago. I must admit, it’s grown a lot since then.”

  “Well, I’ve read everything there is to find online about Mayor Kato.” He read from a printed set of papers, his cheat sheet about the island, and the elected mayor responsible for it. “Middle-aged mother of two small children, born and raised here on Maui, surgeon at the local hospital. Served in the US Air Force, and top athlete years ago. Her husband is a teacher at the local college.” He stuffed the papers in his golf jacket pocket. “I think there’s a lot to work with.”

  “You know anything about her parents?” Minister Takeda asked.

  “Only that she was raised by a single mother. Is there something else I should know?”

  “Too late to bring it up now.” Minister Takeda filled a cup of coffee for his old friend before finishing his own. “As an athlete, she’ll listen to a sales pitch about sporting goods. As mayor, she’ll want the best deal possible. As a long-time resident, she’ll care about what’s best for the island. Maybe most in your favor, since her husband is on faculty at the college, you have a way in there. Remember, this is just the first step in meeting people here. You’ll need to make a tour of every athletic venue on the island, ball fields, swimming pools, gymnasiums, everything. Turn all of it into photo ops, and compliment everything, even if it’s a dump. Politely mention you have equipment that would be upgrades to what they already have. Drop hints about how the place would become first class—no, make that world class. Americans are suckers for that sort of thing. This Kato woman is a few years younger than us. If she’s at all photogenic, take her with you. Make sure you get your picture in the newspaper with her, shaking hands, smiling, all the usual public relations nonsense.”

  Oguchi referred to his cheat sheet again. “What I couldn’t find was if she plays golf very well. She’s a swimmer, surfer, and gym rat, but she could be terrible at playing golf.”

  “So are you, Goro.” Minister Takeda checked his watch. “We’re supposed to meet her in an hour. I understand Napili Bluffs Golf Course is nearby?”

  “Yes, Minister,” one of the bodyguards said, stepping forward. “Part of this resort. Just a short drive to the far side, past the hotel and retail area.”

  “We’ll walk.”

  “But Minister…”

  “Don’t worry so much about safety, Jiro. Nobody here knows us.” The Minister stood from the table, already dressed in expensive golf attire. “I doubt anybody would even care if they did recognize me.” He clapped Oguchi on the back. “No safer place in the world than a Maui golf course, right, Goro?”

  Chapter One

  Melanie finished packing the small case with what she needed, locking it. She dressed in a long sleeve T-shirt and jeans for the twenty-minute early morning trip to Olowalu down the coast from her home. Waving goodbye to her husband, she checked the baby sleeping in his bassinet, and looked in on her daughter as she went to the kitchen.

  “This needs to be done so early in the morning?” Trinh asked, Melanie’s best friend, next-door neighbor, and Vice Mayor. “It’s not even light out.”

  “Not much choice. I’m busy the rest of the day and I just want to get this done.”

  Trinh looked at the case with a wary eye. “Why do you even own that thing?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a skill, and I don’t like the idea of letting go of a skill so hard earned. We need to keep skills current.”

  “Shooting a pistol is your skill, Mel. Nobody ever taught me how to shoot one of those. The Air Force taught me how to shoot an M-16 in basic training, and I’ve never touched one since. No plans to, either.”

  Melanie drove her pickup truck down the highway in the quiet early morning. “It’s more a way for us being visible to Maui. Guys see the Mayor and Vice Mayor shooting responsibly at a range, they’ll have more respect for safety and for the law. That, and there will be some off-duty police officers there, watching who tries to slip away quietly when they see us show our permits to the range master. Might be able to get a few illegal weapons out of the hands of people who really shouldn’t have them.”

  “Mayor Kato! Ms. Park!” the range master said, greeting them when they entered the outdoor gun range. It was deep in a ravine across the highway from one of Melanie’s favorite surf spots on the island. Several other shooters were already there firing pistols in the growing light of morning. “I have a booth and lane set up for you right in the middle.”

  “Everybody permitted and legal?” she asked.

  “Always, when I’m here. And those two officers you requested are here also
.”

  They both flashed their permits, signed the waiver, and went to their dedicated lane.

  “Hey, look who’s here! Our lady mayor is here with her trusty sidekick,” one of the shooters said. “Whatcha got there, a pop gun?”

  Melanie took a magazine from the case and began loading bullets into it, but looked him in the eyes. “Beretta nine.”

  “Where’d you ladies learn shoot a big gun like that?”

  Melanie kept her eyes on the man’s face as she fit the slide into the pistol. “The military.”

  “Our lady mayor was in the military?”

  “We both were. What about you?” she asked, while loading the magazine into the pistol, never once looking, doing all of it by rote feel.

  “Oh, well, I guess I missed my chance. You any good with that?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Melanie stuffed foam plugs in her ears, as did Trinh. Olowalu being an outdoor range, it wasn’t as formal as some ranges. She stood facing the target, a black bull’s-eye on a white paper background with a dense cardboard backing, about twenty-five meters away. Gripping the pistol with both hands, she took the first shot.

  Bret, the range master, and a large Samoan, was standing behind her, watching with spotting binoculars. “Whew boy! Look at that. Two inches off from dead center.”

  “Good shot, indeed,” the man said. “But can she hit it again, and with only one hand?”

  Melanie fired two more times holding the pistol with both hands, hitting near the center of the bulls-eye both times. She changed her stance, now holding the pistol with one hand, and fired three shots with her arm extended out from her side. With the next three shots, she turned the other way and fired with her arm across her chest. All nine shots were within inches of the target center.

  By then, a small crowd had formed behind Melanie to watch their island mayor shoot. The only one that spoke was the range master, who coached every shot she took. At the end, she put the safety on and set the pistol down on the booth counter.

  “Your turn, Trinh.”

  “I really suck at this,” Trinh said, checking the pistol the way she had learned from Melanie years before.

  Trinh fired the last six bullets from the magazine ten seconds apart, always using a two-handed grip. All the shots hit within the black of the target, scoring not nearly as well as Melanie’s shots.

  “I guess that’s why she’s mayor and you’re not,” the man said.

  “They’re Mayor and Vice Mayor because they stood up and were willing to put their names on the ballot,” Bret said. “And they’re doing a great job, even if it’s only been a year.”

  When the man went back to his own booth next door, Melanie watched as he checked over his weapon, an AR-15 assault-style rifle. He was in a longer lane, one reserved for rifles, a hundred meters in length. When he leaned his elbows on the firing ledge of the booth, she stuffed the earplugs back in.

  When he pulled the trigger, he fired what remained in his magazine, what sounded like a dozen or so rounds. When he stopped, he pulled out the empty magazine, and smiled at Melanie. “See that?”

  “I saw you blow through a dozen rounds in just a seconds, rather pointlessly.”

  “I shredded my target. That was the point.”

  “You’re expecting an invasion of Maui sometime soon?” Melanie asked.

  “Lady Mayor, if Maui is ever invaded, I have this.” He put the assault rifle on a lower shelf of his shooting booth and retrieved another gun, basically the same except this one had a bump stock to allow for even faster firing. It also had an extended magazine in it, with a much larger capacity than what the military typically used.

  “Dude, how’d you get that in here?” Bret, the range master, asked. “I don’t allow large capacity mags or bump stocks in here.”

  “Too bad. Try and take it away from me.” The man aimed the weapon, almost a mirror image of what the military used, at his target and fired almost continuously until the magazine was empty. Not only was his target in tatters, the scent of burnt powder hung heavy in the air. He grinned at the others that had watched. Several of them walked off, shaking their heads. “What do you think of that?”

  “Not much,” a man said as he edged through the small crowd. Another man came with him. “My name is Officer Henderson, and this is my partner, Officer Latu, from Maui Police Department. I’d like to see your permit and bills of ownership for these weapons.”

  “Wait a minute! You can’t push me around!”

  “We’re not, Sir. We’re just verifying ownership and permits of weapons today. This is something we do on a rotating basis.”

  While the man argued and gave excuses to the police officers, Melanie and Trinh went back to their target shooting, taking two more turns each. Once they were done, their target was collected and taken back to the small office by Bret.

  When Melanie and Trinh took out their foam earplugs, they discovered the man next to them was having handcuffs slapped on his wrists before being led away by one of the police officers, the other one following behind with both rifles. The man griped and moaned the whole time.

  “Mayor, Ms. Park, can you guys sign this for me? I’d love to hang it here in the office for others to see. Maui’s residents need to see we’re tough on crime here.”

  “Ha! Okay, yeah.”

  They both signed. Getting back the target, Bret wrote across the top, Mayor’s Office Tough on Crime! as they were leaving to go home.

  “Well, that’s two less assault rifles on our island, Trinh,” Melanie said as she drove.

  “Yeah, but how many others are there?”

  “The thing about that guy was how he was thinking about his weapons from below his belt instead of above his shoulders. They’re the scary ones.”

  ***

  “I can’t believe I made a golf date with strangers,” Melanie said while zipping up her skirt in back. She had showered after coming home from the gun range, and was now getting ready for her next function as Mayor of Maui County. “It’s hard enough playing with friends and the club golf pro. They expect me to suck at it. But do I have to put it on display to Japan’s Minister of Urban Youth and some big shot sporting goods company owner?”

  “That’s why you’re mayor. You’re going to wear that?” Josh, her husband asked. He looked at her from the desk in the corner of the room, grading student papers.

  She looked down at herself. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Not sure about that skirt. A little tight, isn’t it?”

  “Trinh was with me when I bought it. She said it was okay.”

  “It’s great, if you’re trying to earn money the old-fashioned way.”

  “Last time I take her shopping.” Melanie took off the skirt and tossed it aside, opting for shorts instead. “What are you guys doing while I fail miserably at playing ambassador to strangers from far off lands?”

  “I have diaper duty while Mom takes Thérèse to the latest kiddie movie in town. While they’re away, I need to go looking for Mumples, which hasn’t been seen in a while.”

  Melanie dug through her small jewelry box for earrings that might be appropriate for a game of golf with a visiting dignitary. “Okay, which one is Mumples again?”

  “The calico female that spends most of her time around the garden shed. She was moving pretty slow the last time I saw her, which was probably a week ago.”

  “Well, if there’s a burial, you’re master of ceremonies this time. I’ve buried enough cats out there.”

  “Maybe it would be easier if I just buried her myself, without holding a funeral?” Josh asked.

  Melanie tried a different sets of earrings. “No, Thérèse needs to learn the facts of life eventually. Otherwise, she’ll be stumbling around the backyard and crawling under the house looking for Mumples. Hopefully, she didn’t wander up into the hills and is starting a new colony there. She did get fixed, right?”

  “During last year’s Grand Feline Roundup and
Rodeo? I’m pretty sure they all were.”

  “How many are there these days?” Melanie asked, deciding on pearl studs. “I saw a shy little orange tabby lurking around the carport when I got home from work the other day.”

  “That tabby makes seven. If any more show up, we’ll need to put plastic tags in their ears like dairy cows have.”

  With that, the baby started to fuss in his bassinet. She picked him up, but didn’t need to check his diaper. She took him to her husband. “Speaking of diaper duty, it’s time and your turn.”

  Just like everything else, Josh went into the task slowly and methodically. “Still need to find a name for this little guy.”

  “What’s on the list?” Melanie asked. She got out a hand-written list from a dresser drawer dedicated to the baby. “Alexander, Greg, Moshe, Mario, Saul, Solomon, Kamalei, Tristan, Napoleon…that one’s from your mother…Kaito, William, and Andreas.”

  “Not to mention Jack and Arthur.”

  “Your dad doesn’t want to be included in the runoff election?” she asked.

  “Everybody thinks it would be too confusing since my brother already is using Dad’s name for his kid.”

  “Well, if we use Jack or Arthur, the other might get his feelings hurt,” Melanie said. She stuffed the list of names back in the drawer.

  “They’re both dead, Melanie.”

  “Still…”

  “He’s three months old. It’s time to decide on a name. You got Thérèse’s name from someone you met at the convent on our honeymoon, right?”

  “Can you think of any other names of people we met then? Other than Andalusian bimbos you met at the youth hostel.”

  “They were Andorran and weren’t bimbos.”

  “Sounds like you remember them well, Josh. But instead of bringing up the fact they were putting rash ointment on your body, I’ll let it drop. For now. None of those names do anything for you?”

  “It’s just a name, Melanie. Pick one out so we can start calling him something other than the baby.”