Page 14 of Tiki Beach
And whoever it was had been meticulous enough to get in and search her home without leaving obvious signs of disturbance.
“We need to search the house,” Ilima declared, her regal bearing vibrating with energy and indignation. “Whoever took the box might have taken something else, or Pearl might have hidden copies of the documents elsewhere.”
Kawika shifted uncomfortably, moving to stand in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Auntie Ilima, but I can’t allow that.”
Ilima blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Pearl named me power of attorney, executor of her estate, and medical power of attorney,” Kawika explained, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m legally responsible for her property and privacy. Without her conscious permission or a court order, I can’t authorize a search of her home.”
“But Kawika, sweetheart,” Ilima’s voice held an edge of disbelief, “we’re family. We’re trying to help Pearl.”
“I know,” he said. “And I appreciate that. But Pearl values her privacy above all else.” He gestured to the now empty drawer. “The fact that someone has already violated that makes me even more determined to protect what remains. I’m going to move into the spare bedroom here until she returns. Maybe after she’s home too, to keep an eye on her safety.”
“Good of you, Kawika. She might also need round-the-clock care.” Keone placed a restraining hand on his mother’s arm. “He’s right, Mom. Legally speaking, Kawika has to protect Pearl’s interests.”
“This is about Pearl’s interests!” Ilima protested, the orchids in her lei po‘o shedding petals with her agitation. “Someone poisoned her, Kawika. Someone tried to kill her.”
“And the police are investigating,” Kawika replied calmly. “If Detective Texeira wants to search the house, she can. I’ll cooperate fully with any official investigation.” His eyes softened. “Please understand, Auntie. I made a promise to Pearl to watch over her home.”
Conflicting emotions play across Ilima’s face—concern for her friend, frustration at the obstacle, and pride in her nephew’s integrity all battled for dominance.
“Well,” Ilima said, drawing herself up to her full height, “I suppose Pearl would appreciate your dedication to your responsibilities.” The words were gracious, but her tone suggested she was far from pleased.
“Mahalo for understanding,” Kawika said diplomatically.
“We should get going,” Mr. K said, sensing the tension. “Kawika needs to tie up loose ends to stay here, and we have other avenues to explore.”
Ilima gave a nod, her muumuu swishing as she turned toward the door. “Of course. Keep us informed of any changes in Pearl’s condition, Kawika.”
“I will, Auntie. Every update, I promise.”
We followed Ilima back through the house. Her shoulders were stiffer than when we’d arrived, and her normally flowing stride had taken on a determined cadence that spoke volumes about her mood.
When we reached the porch, Kawika touched my arm lightly, holding me back as Keone escorted his mother to his truck.
“Kat,” he said quietly, “I truly am sorry. But Pearl has secrets beyond what you know. She would want them protected.”
“I understand,” I said, surprising myself by meaning it. “But if those secrets got her poisoned?—”
“Then the truth needs to come out,” he agreed. “Just . . . through the proper channels.”
I nodded, watching as Keone handed Ilima up. She got into the truck with offended dignity, her back straight and her chin high.
“Take care of Pearl for us,” I said, giving Kawika’s arm a pat before joining the others.
As we pulled away from Pearl’s peaceful beach house, I glanced back to see Kawika standing on the porch, his tall figure silhouetted against the golden afternoon light. He raised a hand in farewell, looking very alone with the weight of his responsibilities.
In the front seat, Ilima adjusted her lei po‘o with precise movements. “Well,” she announced to no one in particular, “it seems Pearl trusted her affairs to the right person. Loyal to a fault, that boy.”
Despite her huffed tone, I caught the flash of respect in her eyes. Family was complicated, especially Hawaiian family. But at the end of the day, integrity mattered more than convenience to future mayor Ilima Kaihale.
And somehow, that made me love her even more.
5
The drive back to our office from Pearl’s house was tense. Ilima sat in the passenger seat with the rigid posture of a queen who’d had a royal decree ignored, while Keone kept shooting me glances in the rearview mirror as if to check I was okay—which I was, even if worried by this escalation of events.
Afternoon light had faded to the soft lavender of evening by the time we pulled up to K & K’s little shack.
