I'm Kona Love You Forever (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series Book 6) by JoAnn Bassett Page A

of winging it here, but I’m guessing they’ll find carbon monoxide poisoning.”
    “Sounds about right.”
    “She’s on her way over here,” I said.
    “Who?”
    “Lili. She asked me to stay here and pick her up at the airport. I asked if she’d gotten her parents’ permission to come over but she blew me off. I guess I’ll have to deal with that when I see her.”
    “ Okay, wait a second,” Hatch said. “You say the groom’s mother died here? I thought they both lived on Maui.” Hatch looked irked, as if I was purposefully trying to confuse him.
    “ No, Lili’s on Maui. Both kids were born on the Big Island but Lili was raised on Maui and she lives there. David and his parents still live here.”
    Hatch shot me a “ whatever” look which meant he’d heard enough. “I need to go,” he said. “I’ve already traded a shift so I need to be back on duty tomorrow.”
    “I know. How about you load up your stuff while I go check and see if I can keep the room for another night or two? I want to stay and help Lili. She’s just a kid. Although her parents are concerned about her, I doubt they’re going to be all supportive of her coming over here to be with David.”
    ***
    Lili’s plane landed and Hatch’s was scheduled to take off on the return flight. Since I couldn’t go through security I spent a few minutes outside waiting for Lili to appear. When she did, I hardly recognized her. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes as red as a fillet of ahi tuna.
    “Pali,” she moaned. She fell into my arms. Luckily, after catching a glimpse of her I’d braced for impact. It felt like Sifu Doug had tossed me an eighty-pound medicine ball.
    “Lili, let’s get your things and get out of here. Do you have a place to stay?”
    She slumped even further. “I thought I could stay with you.”
    Good thing I’d managed to keep the room.
    “Sure. There’s only one bed, but it’ll be fine.”
    She started crying. “I never even got to meet David’s mom. I only talked to her on the phone. How could this happen?”
    I practically carried Lili to baggage claim to pick up her bag. Her suitcase was enormous. When I hefted it off the luggage conveyor it weighed almost as much as she did.
    “What’ve you got in this thing?” I said.
    “I d on’t know how long I’ll need to be here.”
    “Speaking of that, have you called your folks yet? They’re really worried about you.”
    “I’ll do it later.” I shot her “the look” and she added, “I will, promise.”
    The owner of the B & B had said I could only stay two more nights. After that, she was booked solid for the rest of the week. Some kind of coffee convention.
    “Is David here already?” I said.
    “ Yeah. He got a ride over from Hilo as soon as he heard.”
    “Do you want to go to the room to freshen up?”
    “ No,” she said. “I need to be with David.”
    ***
    In the past couple of years I’ve spent a fair amount of time with grief-stricken people. And that’s not counting the distraught mothers-of-the-bride I’ve had to talk down from a ledge because they thought their daughter could’ve done better in the son-in-law department. I’ve learned in most instances it’s best to just listen. No fake smiles, no arm-patting or words of false comfort, and certainly no probing questions to extract the grisly details.
    But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t curious as we stood outside David’s mother’s house. A small crowd had gathered in the driveway to witness the commotion. The body had been taken away hours ago, but the place was still crawling with police. A handful of TV reporters lurked at the edges, probably hoping to catch a loved one in the throes of anguish. Nothing screams “film at eleven” like unbridled grief.
    “ If you’re a reporter, get off my property,” said a plus-sized local woman of about thirty-five. She wore stretchy beige pants that strained to encompass her ample hips and a pastel-striped peasant blouse with puffy