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  Dead at Diamond Head

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  Maile Spencer Honolulu Tour Guide Mysteries

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  Kay Hadashi

  Dead at Diamond Head

  Maile Spencer Honolulu Tour Guide Mysteries

  Kay Hadashi. Copyright 2020. © All Rights Reserved.

  Cover art by Kingwood Creations.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, dialogues, and incidences are used factiously or products of imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, businesses, events, or locales, unless otherwise denoted as real, is purely incidental. No part of any character should be considered real or reflective of any real person, living or dead. Information related to current events should be considered common knowledge and can easily be found in real life.

  For more information about Kay Hadashi Novels

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  “You will never have more than you can manage.”

  Reverend Ka’uhane

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Eighteen

  More from Kay Hadashi

  Chapter One

  Maile Spencer was summoned from her dreams when there was a knock on her door. Listening for a moment, she wasn’t sure if it had been real or something she’d dreamt. All she knew was she’d been in a boat out to sea during a rainstorm, hanging on for dear life as it rocked back and forth trying to toss her out. Many of her dreams had been like that lately. She was just easing back to sleep again when there was another tap tap tap.

  She wrapped in her bed sheet while making the short trip to the door. Peeking out the peephole, she couldn’t see anyone.

  “Stupid dream,” Maile muttered as she left the door behind.

  Catching her attention just as she was climbing back in bed was another knock. This time, she checked all the locks and security chain before easing the door open a crack. Her neighbor from across the hall smiled at her. Her husband was there behind her with the kids dressed in their Sunday finest. For some reason, Maile hadn’t heard their usual morning spat.

  “Hi Maile!”

  “Rosamie. A little early, isn’t it?”

  “We’re going to early Mass, and stopping for doughnuts on the way home. Can we bring you one?”

  “Thanks, but I have a tour later and won’t be home all day.”

  Rosamie motioned for Maile to remove the chain and let her in. Once she was in Maile’s tiny convenience apartment, the neighbor closed the door behind her. She had an expression on her face that she had something to say.

  “No need to apologize, Rosamie. I didn’t hear you guys fight this morning.”

  “But we didn’t!”

  Maile filled a kettle and put it on the stove to boil. “First time in quite a while. But aren’t they waiting for you out in the hall?”

  The neighbor waved her hand dismissively. “They’re fine. Don’t you want to know why we didn’t fight?”

  “Because you’re going to early Mass and don’t have the time?”

  “Not exactly.” Rosamie seemed to blush. She leaned close to tell a secret, even though they were alone. “I let him have his way with me.”

  In a way, Maile was jealous. With the ink still drying on her divorce papers, it had been a while for Maile to share a bed. “Oh?”

  Rosamie beamed with pride. “Last night and again this morning.”

  “Sounds like you found the path to marital bliss.” Maile guided her neighbor back to the door.

  “Maybe you should give Robbie a call and give it a try?”

  Maile couldn’t open the door fast enough. With her newfound lust for life, Rosamie was turning out to be a hopeful romantic.

  “That ship has sailed. He’s given up on me and is sailing the oceans of passion with other girls these days.” With one last nudge in the back, Rosamie was sent away and Maile got the door closed. “Every morning at ten minutes before eight, they wake me up with their spats. The one time they don’t fight and she wakes me up anyway, just to tell me about it.”

  An hour later, she had her room tidied and was ready for what could turn out to be a long day. That involved showing a kid around Honolulu on a private tour. When she met the kid a few days earlier, she seemed mature for ten, talkative, and maybe a little on the precocious side. She also might turn out to be a spoiled brat. She was the daughter of the mayor of a neighboring island, and the kid was being palmed off on Maile so the mother could spend the day with her new boyfriend, or some such thing. Calling it a tour was a misnomer; she was providing glorified babysitting duty. At least she didn’t have the younger brother to contend with, and was being paid handsomely for her services.

  When Maile left home, Lopaka, the tour van driver she normally worked with, was already at the curb waiting. He was dressed to impress in a new aloha shirt, and Maile wondered what angle he was playing that day.

  “Do you know what the kid wants to do?” he asked, as they left for Waikiki.

  “Go to the usual places. Diamond Head and the zoo, followed by lunch at some special place in Chinatown. Then Sea Life Park and Halona Blowhole in the afternoon. That’s the message I got from the mother, anyway.”

  “We’re going back to the zoo so soon?” he asked.

  “You mean I’m willing to go back there? Not much choice. Kids like animals. If she wants the zoo, we go to the zoo. I’m not hanging around that snack bar, though. I never would’ve guessed so much trouble could be found at a snack bar.”

  Lopaka laughed. “Warming up with Diamond Head. The only kind of trouble you’ll find there is if the kid jumps off the summit.”

  “I should be so lucky to get the tour over with that early.”

  Maile saw the family standing outside the main entrance of a small hotel. A man was standing next to the mother, and an officious-looking blond woman waited toward the back. Everyone was wearing a hat and sunglasses of some sort, the little boy holding his mother’s hand. The mother was busy giving instructions to a tour guide from a rival company, while the girl waved at Maile as the van approached. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt that had Maui No Ka O’i emblazoned across the front in glittery purple letters. The sneakers laced to her feet were a dead giveaway she was ready for action.

  “She looks cheerful,” Lopaka said, as he pulled the van to the curb. “That’s a good start.”

  “Not crying yet, anyway.”

  “When did you get so cynical?” he asked.

  “Since learning my husband was playing around behind my back, losing my job at the hospital, moving into the world’s smallest apartment, and being harped at by my mother for not producing an heir to the throne.”

  Lopaka laughed. “It’ll get better.”

  “When? Because I’d like to pencil that in on my daily calendar. Maybe right between lunch in Chinatown and a tour of the Iolani Palace?”

  Leaving the van, Maile plastered on a cheerful smile, a challenge even on the best of days. By then, the boy had been whisked away in the rival tour company’s van. Maile reached her hand forward to shake that of the mother, but the gesture was interrupted by the officious blonde.

  “You’re Maile Spencer?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name’s Cassandra. I need to see your ID.”

 
“For?”

  “It’s okay, Ms. Spencer. It’s just a security check,” the mother said. Maile had met her once a few days before, but still wasn’t sure if she was supposed to address her as ‘Doctor Kato’ or ‘Mayor’. “She’ll need to see the driver’s ID also.”

  Maile displayed her driver’s license to the blonde, who scanned it with a hand-held device.

  “Where’s your company ID?”

  “I don’t have one. Our tours are a little more personal than that. No special nametags to wear or flag to wave around. Just a clean van, a good driver, and lots of interesting things to see.”

  The blonde left Maile and went to Lopaka to check his ID.

  “Now that that’s done, we can do some introductions,” the mother said. “I’m Doctor Kato, and you met my daughter Thérèse a few days ago. This is my friend, Darrell. You just missed my son, Chance. Just call me Melanie.”

  Maile shook each of their hands in turn.

  “He’s our fire chief,” Thérèse said. She seemed to wince slightly over something. “Mom’s new boyfriend.”

  “Nice to meet you all. I hope you don’t mind, but I looked at your profile online last evening. Maui native, served in the Air Force, doctor, and mayor. You’ve been busy.”

  “And two kids. Maybe a little too busy.”

  The blonde came back, now with a smile of her own. “We checked you out, also.”

  Maile doubted there was much to find on her, and most of the recent stuff would be embarrassing.

  “Not much to say about me.” Maile smiled at the girl. “What I need to know is what’s on our itinerary?”

  The mother got out a sheet of paper for Maile. It looked like a cheat sheet of some sort, with places that were listed in order of the most fun and the best times to visit them. That’s when the girl’s face turned from a wince to a grimace.

  The mother seemed to notice and folded the sheet again. “You could spend the entire day in Chinatown and Thérèse would be happy.”

  “Yeah, fortune cookies at the New China Palace Restaurant,” the girl muttered.

  To Maile, it was an ‘uh-oh’ moment, that the day could turn out to be long.

  “Tay, why don’t you find a seat on the bus with a window?” the mother said.

  “They all got windows,” the girl said, climbing aboard, taking a small knapsack with her.

  Maile looked at the mother for any last minute instructions. She was given the itinerary and an envelope with money inside.

  “That should be enough to cover any entry fees and lunch. Whatever is left over is yours. She’s knows her way around Honolulu as well as anyone. Do whatever she wants. Here’s my card with my personal number. She knows the number also. If there are any problems, just give me a call.”

  After tucking the envelope and business card in a pocket, and reassuring the mother that everything would be fine, Maile climbed aboard the van and settled in her seat at the front. As Lopaka pulled away from the curb, Maile noticed the girl give a quick wave to her mother. Once they were out in traffic, she put on her headset to narrate.

  “You’re not gonna talk about the stuff we drive past, are you?” Thérèse asked.

  “Not if you don’t want me to.” Maile pulled off the headset and tossed it on the dashboard. She looked at the itinerary of places that were listed as best. “Looks like you want to go to Diamond Head?”

  “Yeah, if we have to.”

  “Your mom made a long list of things you like to do. Which do you want to start with?”

  “Do we have to do any of them?”

  When they stopped at a traffic signal, Maile went back to sit with the girl. “No, I suppose not. But maybe we should do one or two, just to make your mother happy? Anyway, we can’t just drive around in circles all day.”

  “I guess so. Is there other stuff to do here than the stuff on my mom’s list of stuff to do?”

  Maile did her best not to chuckle. “Yeah, I think we can find some other fun stuff to do. But let’s go to Diamond Head first, since Lopaka already has us halfway there.”

  The girl winced again. “Same stuff as usual there?”

  “Probably. Have you ever been inside those pillboxes at the top?”

  “Yeah, every time.”

  “And you leaned over the rail and looked straight down the cliff?”

  “That, too.”

  “And watched the waves form out at sea and come in to the shore?” Maile asked.

  “Got waves on Maui.”

  “Yep, everywhere you go in Hawaii, you’re gonna find waves.” Maile needed to make the visit more fun. Kids weren’t interested in old military bunkers or romantic viewpoints. Seeing the sneakers on the kid’s feet, she got an idea. “Have you ever run from the parking lot all the way to the top?”

  The girl gave it some thought. “No. Have you?”

  “I don’t think so, but I bet we can!”

  “Really?”

  They were just going through the tunnel to enter the park inside the ancient crater. Maile sat back and crossed her arms, growing her plan of turning it into a fun-hearted competition. “I know I can. Maybe you can’t, though. Maybe you’ll fall down with broken legs because you’re just a little kid.”

  “I’m not a little kid! I can run!”

  “It’s a long ways and it’s all uphill.”

  “I can run just as far as you can. I can get there first, too!” the girl demanded with a smile on her face.

  Maile’s little plan to kick-start the day was working on the kid. She paid for the minimal entry fee for both of them, while Lopaka parked the van.

  They were the first two people in the park that day, just after opening. Carrying a bottle of water in each hand, Maile started the race with Thérèse, letting her get a head start. It took only a moment to discover the kid was a fast runner and had dug into some energy Maile wasn’t feeling for herself. She was already trailing thirty feet back by the time they got to the first set of stairs.

  Thérèse stopped and waited, displaying a broad smile on her sweaty face. “You’re right! This makes it more fun!”

  Already wanting to crack open a bottle of water for a swig, Maile watched as the girl churned her feet at a fast pace going up the long set of steps.

  “Be careful! I was only kidding about breaking your legs!”

  They were all alone on the dirt path that made up most of the climb, and the girl took to it as easily as Maile did. All that was left was one last set of steps, which was what often weeded out most hikers. Once again, Thérèse waited for Maile to catch up, who was playing the game of letting the girl win the race. Having been a competitive runner in college a few years before and currently training for a marathon in a few weeks’ time, Maile could easily have made the trip to the summit in only a few minutes. Seeing the happy look on the kid’s face made coming in second place worthwhile.

  Thérèse didn’t wait when she got to the top, jogging the last few strides to the pillboxes at the summit. They were old concrete military bunkers leftover from World War 2 when the Army used the peak as a lookout for enemy ships or planes. They were popular places for tourist photos, the evidence that someone had survived the steep climb to the 700-foot summit. Inside the bedroom-sized bunkers were concrete walls and dirt, long abandoned. The fun part was looking out the narrow slot that soldiers had used many years before to watch the sky and ocean. In another direction was a massive view of Waikiki and Honolulu beyond, and the mountains that framed the picturesque city. Cloud watching at the summit was fun, seeing what manner of weather was blowing over the Ko’olau Range from the windward side of the island. It was easy for local residents to forget about the iconic site, even being blasé about it, but whenever Maile saw the view of Honolulu and the vast ocean, she had a whole new sense of love for her birth city.

  Maile was just getting to the top and taking the cap of a bottle of water, when Thérèse came back from the pillbox. Maybe she was tired or her breakfast wasn’t sitting right after the fa
st run, but she had a sour look to her face.

  “Maybe we should go back down now,” the girl said.

  Maile offered the open bottle to the girl. “Why? In a hurry?”

  “No, just sorta seen enough.”

  From the look on the girl’s face, the fun that had started had already ended. Maile put her hand on the girl’s back and steered her toward the pillbox. “Come on. Let’s go pretend we’re soldiers. It’ll be nice to get some shade for a few minutes.”

  “We really gotta?”

  “Yeah, we really gotta. We can take each other’s picture.” Maile forced the bottle into the girl’s hand. “What’s wrong, anyway?”

  “Maybe there’s sorta some trouble or something in the pillbox room.”

  Maile wondered if teenagers had snuck into the park late at night and had partied, leaving behind a mess of bottles and trash. Once it was dark, there would be nothing to see except the lights of the city, and there wasn’t a view of those from inside the pillbox. There were better places to party on Oahu.

  Even though the kid was energetic, Maile wanted to get some water into her. “Let’s sit in the shade for a couple minutes and then we’ll go back down. We still need to plan the rest of the day.”

  Thérèse stopped a few steps from the small entrance to the underground bunker. She looked to be crushing the plastic bottle of water in her hand when she said, “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

  “Well, I’m sitting down for a minute and drinking some water.” Before Maile could get the cap off her own bottle, she caught the stink of something. Now she knew why Thérèse didn’t want to go into the pillbox. There was the distinct stench of a dead animal coming from somewhere, and Maile figured a mongoose had crawled into the concrete bunker and died during the night. It didn’t take long for things to turn ripe in the tropics.

  Since starting work as a tour guide, Maile had learned what to keep in her pockets for tours. Mostly it was a packet of tissues, Band-Aids, her phone and a point-and-shoot camera, and maybe notes or a map for reference. Something else was a penlight to point out things in dark rooms. Turning that on, she held her nose and peered in through the narrow slot in the outer wall. The stink seemed like too much for just a mongoose. Sweeping the small beam of light from one end of the dark space to the other, she found the source of what was so pungent.