"How about Tomika? Does she let you just blow off cancellation fees?"

"Ha! You've seen her place. You think she sits up nights tallying up the take on the Maui Happy Returns?"

I shrugged. "Well, thanks for that. I'm kind of underwater with this stupid wedding, but I'll manage."

"Anyway, I appreciate you coming down here to meet me," he went on. "I'd probably have dreamed up some excuse to see you again, but when I got wind of this, I had to call."

I was eager to hear what this was.

"I guess I should start at the beginning," he went on. "I've already told you my story of how I got to Hawaii and what I'm doing living aboard Tomika's boat."

I nodded.

"But what I didn't clue you in on is what it's actually like living out on the docks. Crazy stuff happens all the time, and I deal with a lot of screwy, scary people-especially after dark."

A different waitress than the one who took our order came by to refill our coffee. Ono shot her his dazzling smile. She gave him a wink and I felt a little put off. Was she trolling for a good tip, or something else?

"Hey, Ono, long time no see," she said in a purring voice that made me think of old Marilyn Monroe movies.

"Hey, Kai, have you met my friend, Pali? She owns a wedding planning shop here in town."

Kai and I smiled and nodded at each other while Ono made the introductions. Then Kai said, "A wedding planner? How fun is that! Too bad I'm already married. I always wanted a big wedding, but Donny wanted to go to Vegas." She shot out a pouty lower lip.

"You could always have a 'renewing of vows' ceremony." I said. "Very popular for ten year anniversaries, and some of them are as fancy as weddings."

She laughed. "Sounds good. That is, if I can manage to stick with Donny for ten whole years. You have no idea what I put up with."

She left and Ono continued. "Anyway, I've nosed around a little and there's dock talk about a suspected kidnapping. Seems the same lowlifes I've locked horns with over drugs are whispering about ransom money for a girl who got nabbed by some serious players."

Even though the waitress had slid a plate of heavenly-scented pancakes in front of me, I didn't look down. Ono had my full attention.

"Drugs are everywhere at the harbor. People hauling 'em, people selling 'em, people getting gutted over a deal gone bad. Just two days after I first brought the catamaran over here a derelict approached me about running 'ice' for him from the Big Island to Maui. Seems they've got a big meth lab over there up in the jungle but distribution's a problem. What with the dogs at the airport, it's tough to bring it in by air."

I could've told him all about the dogs at the airport, but I didn't want to get him off-track.

"Anyway, they're constantly looking for boats to ferry the stuff over. They like day charters, like mine, because if the narcs find drugs aboard you can always blame it on the passengers-say you had no idea it was stashed there, and say you're shocked and horrified to be used like that. With tourism kind of off and on lately, the drug dealers can usually find charter guys who'll haul the stuff when business is slow."

His preamble was going on and on and my pancakes were getting cold. I slathered on butter and doused them in coconut syrup.

"Yum," I said, slicing into the first cake.

"You want me to hold off until you've had a chance to eat?"

"No, go on. I can listen and swoon at the same time."

"So, anyway," he went on, "after keeping this slime at arm's length for a couple of weeks, he decides to change his tactics. I'd been promised a new slip; a great spot, front and center. The harbormaster said the current tenant had given notice and was moving his boat back to the mainland. I put down a deposit and he said the slip would be mine the next weekend. But when the day came to move my boat there was already a big-ass yacht parked in my space. Seems the scuzz ball drug runner had gone to the harbormaster-most likely with either a bribe or a threat-and jerked the slip out from under me. Next thing I know, I'm relegated to Lower Slobovia-way out on the outer docks where I am now."

"Why would a drug runner want a close-in spot? Seems if he's hauling drugs he'd want to keep a low profile."

"Yeah, you'd think, but it wasn't about the slip. It was to put me on notice as to who's really running the harbor. Like a dog peeing on a tree trunk to mark its territory. These guys want everyone out there to know they can act with impunity. Don't ask, don't tell may be long gone in the military, but it's alive and well in Lahaina Harbor. And I'm not talking about sexual preferences here."

"Got it. So, tell me about what you overheard about the kidnapping."

"After you called to tell me the bridal couple had taken off and your girl was still missing I did some nosing around. The bottom feeders tend to shoot their mouths off to impress one another. Kidnapping's a Class A felony-big stakes. So, when word came out somebody had grabbed a girl and was holding her for major bucks I put two and two together. I don't have the details, but dollars to doughnuts I'm betting the two things are related. This island's too small for it to be a coincidence. Sounds like a drug deal gone sour."

I cut into my second monster-sized pancake. I'd need to spend an extra sweaty hour in the gym to make up for it, but I didn't care. Not only were the pancakes better than I remembered, but the subject matter made me nervous. I have two ways to deal with stress: either I eat everything in sight, or I don't eat anything for days.

"So," he went on, "does any of this line up with what you've found out about your missing girl?"

"Unfortunately, yes. The cops are playing see no evil, hear no evil, but everything I've learned so far points to my sweet-faced bridesmaid being mixed up with local druggies."

"Not much you can do. Probably best to cut her loose."

"I probably should-for a lot of reasons. But I can't. The idea of a young woman coming here to Maui and getting hauled off to who-knows-where by a bunch of scum-sucking drug dealers makes me sick. Okay, maybe she said yes when she should've said no. Or maybe the partying got a little out of hand. I don't know. But the police aren't the least bit interested. Meanwhile, I'm finding odd body parts on my doorknob and a half-million-dollar ransom note on my car. I've got a convicted felon staying at my house, and I spent half a day getting grilled by the cops for showing up at the airport with cocaine-scented cash."

He put his hand up as if to say, halt. "Whoa, whoa. You're getting way ahead of me here."

I filled him in on everything: the fingernails hanging on my shop door when I got back from O'ahu; the ransom note showing up right before Keith and Nicole vanished; the sniffer beagle out at the airport alerting to cocaine on the money Keith left me for the wedding; and finally Beni staying at my house after planting Crystal's hair and nails in my car and at my shop.

"You're probably not safe at your house," Ono said. "Do you want to move down to the boat for a while? I could fix you up a bunk."

"Mahalo, but I'm fine. I'm locking my doors, and besides, I'm pretty sure the druggies are done with me. Keith-or whatever his real name is-has most probably gone back to the mainland and Beni's just a small-time hood they used to get to Keith. The way I see it, I'm no longer any use to them."

"Maybe. But you need to get that Beni dude out of your house. He may know more than he's telling. And if he does, they may want to shut him up before he goes running to the cops looking for an immunity deal. You could end up collateral damage."

"But I told you: the cops aren't interested. They've blown me off again and again."

"That doesn't mean squat. Take it from me-cops lie."

By now the waitress had removed our plates and had asked us at least twice if we needed anything more. I looked around. Every table was full. Clearly, we were in jeopardy of overstaying our welcome.

We hugged as we parted. Ono left me with orders to call him after I'd thoroughly debriefed Beni.

I went upstairs to my shop. The message light on my landline was blinking, but it showed only one message. That was okay, the only person I wanted to hear from was Trish.

CHAPTER 21.

But it wasn't Trish, it was Steve. Hey Pali, you better get back up here. That stray dog you brought home is tearing the place apart. In the background I could hear scraping furniture. Stop it, dude, yelled Steve. Then the message cut off.

Oh well. I wasn't prepared to explain my situation to Trish anyway, so I hopped in my car and drove back across the island to Hali'imaile. When I came through the back door, everything looked fine in the kitchen. No broken windows, no stuff strewn around or bloody footprints. But as I pushed through the swinging door into the main living area, I stopped. It didn't even resemble my house. The dining table had been upended and shoved up against the picture window that looked out on the street and my six-foot long sofa was blocking the front door. The place looked like it was under siege-like a movie set from Straw Dogs.

"What's going on here?" I yelled, even though there was no one around.

Steve came bounding down the stairs. "Looks like your buddy Beni's over his DTs. I'm pretty sure I liked him better when he was messed up."

"Where is he?"

"Don't know. He shoved all this stuff around and then he ducked out back. I tried to stop him and he knocked me into a wall. Check this out." He lifted his arm, displaying a vicious-looking lump on his elbow.

"I'm sorry. We've got to find him. He thinks a bunch of nasty guys are after him."

"Nastier than him? No thanks, I'm staying out of it." He turned to go back upstairs.

"Steve, I need your help. I promise once we find him I'll do the heavy lifting. But right now I could really use another pair of eyes looking for him."

He smacked the banister. "Is that all I am to you? Another pair of eyes?"

I stared him down-literally.

We got outside and I directed Steve to go left while I went right. The detached garage was on my side, so I quietly pulled the man door open and peered inside. Steve's immaculate black Jetta was parked squarely in the middle of the space. The tidy shelves he'd built for me lined the walls on either side, and there were cardboard boxes stacked three high on each shelf.

"Beni? It's me, Pali. Are you in here?"

Only the sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the old plank walls disturbed the silence.

"Beni, if you're in here, please say something. I believe you about those guys being after you. We need to find you a better place to hide."

There was a click and the passenger door of Steve's car opened a crack. The interior light blinked on, and then the door quickly closed again. I went over to that side of the car.

"Beni, come out. I'm serious. I don't think it's safe for you here. If you'll come out and talk with me, I promise I'll try and find you a better hiding place."

By now Steve must have heard me, because he was standing in the doorway of the garage.

"Is he in my car?" he shrieked. "Oh my god. I've got the King of Stink undoing two years of carefully maintaining that new car smell. Of all my five senses, olfactory's my favorite! Get him out of there."

I opened the passenger door, and found Beni huddled on the floorboard between the seat and the dashboard. He was folded in thirds, which made him look about six years old. When he turned his face to me, there were tear tracks down his cheeks.

"Beni, did something happen?"

He nodded.

"What?"

"I remembered."

"We need to get back in the house. Steve will watch and make sure nobody's coming. You're going to tell me everything, and then we'll find you a safer place to hide. Okay?"

"No, I like it here in the car."

"Beni, we don't have time for this. If you don't come out right now, I'm going to pull your ass out. And, don't worry, I'm more than capable-just ask your cousin Doug."

I reached in to grab him but he unfolded his arms and hoisted himself up onto the seat before I could get a firm grip.

As soon as Beni was upright and out of the car, Steve rushed over to survey the damage.

"Leave it," I said. "We'll open all the doors and let it air out. I need you to keep watch at the house while I grill Beni about what he remembers."

Steve made a grunting noise-not agreeing, but not disagreeing either.

I popped the car doors open while Beni slinked toward the outside door. He waited for me to join him before venturing outside.

"You got a gun?" he said.

"No, but I've trained with your cousin for seven years now. I've got a couple of black belts and I've kicked major ass in a ton of tournaments."

He snorted. "Big whoop. What you gonna do, karate chop a bullet coming at me?"

"Get in the house, Beni. The quicker you start talking, the quicker I'm gonna begin caring about what happens to you."

Beni insisted we talk in my bedroom. He said he thought it was safer in there, with the window shades down and Steve standing sentry at the front door.

"Okay, dude," I said. "I need to know everything."

"Can you get me something to eat? I'm real hungry."

"First you talk, then you eat. I doubt if the cockroaches holding Crystal Wilson are ringing up room service every time her stomach growls."

He mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothin'."

"Beni, I'm totally serious. Talk-now."

"Okay." He picked at the chenille tufts on my bedspread.

I waited.

"From the get-go it was this guy named Slam's idea. Seems he got a call from some honcho on the mainland. The way he told it, this mainland guy had a beef with your wedding dude. So Slam comes up with the idea of snatching one of the girls from your guy's wedding and making him pay a big ransom to get her back. After he picked her up, he cut off her hair and had me put it in your car, like I tol' you before."

"Did he tell you to put it in my car? I thought you dreamed that up on your own."

"Nah, you're right. He said to make sure the guy saw it. I told him you were doing the guy's wedding and I knew you'd tell him 'bout it. Then when Slam didn't hear nothing from that Jackson dude, he took off her fingernails. He said that's the kind of stuff his boss does on the mainland-you know, take body parts. Anyway, he wanted Jackson to know he had the girl and he was da kine serious."

"Beni, you're plowing old ground here. Get to the part about what you remembered just now."

"When Slam didn't hear back nothin' from the fingernails, he got beef you know, what haoles call 'pissed off'. He call me up and said I messed up. Said we weren't square and if I wanna get square I gotta do one more job."

He'd picked an entire tuft of chenille off my bedspread. I was itching to slap his hand and tell him to knock it off, but I didn't want to stop the story.