Page 33 of Tiki Beach
“The journal?” I guessed. “We know Pearl found her father’s journal recently.”
Opal shook her head. “Something else. Something hidden in plain sight.” Her gaze grew distant. “I see folded wings. Paper wings. The crane flies not with feathers but with truth.”
A chill ran down my spine despite the warm day. “The origami cranes,” I whispered. “She’s hidden something in the paper cranes.”
Tiki suddenly stood up on her cushion, stretched, and leapt to the counter, careful not to disturb the rune shells. She fixed me with an imperious stare that clearly communicated: Get moving.
“I need to go,” I said, wrapping the remainder of my sandwich. “Opal, Artie—thank you.”
“Take this,” Artie said, handing me a small paper bag. “An extra sandwich for Keone. Tell him it’s payment for fixing our generator last month.”
I accepted the bag, then turned to Opal. “Do the runes say anything else?”
Her pale eyes refocused on me, sharp and clear. “Be careful. The crane may fly, but a serpent can strike from hidden places.”
With that cheerful warning, I gathered my sandwiches and headed for the door. Tiki leapt down and followed, apparently deciding that her presence was required for this next phase of the investigation.
Back at the post office, Pua practically pounced on the sandwich I delivered. “You’re a lifesaver,” she declared, unwrapping it with reverence. “It’s been a madhouse here.”
I glanced around the conspicuously empty post office. “I can see that. Absolutely swamped.”
“Well, Mr. Kekoa came in with fifteen packages for his mainland grandchildren, and Mrs. Palaunu needed help filling out customs forms for her daughter in Japan.”
“Plus, that extra round of cleaning due to Tiki’s ‘gift,’” I said. “I get it. Listen, I need to take a longer lunch break. Something’s come up with the investigation.”
Pua’s eyes lit up with interest. “What kind of something? Does it involve more lock-picking?”
“No more breaking and entering for you,” I said. “I’m just going to check out the community center at New Ohia State Park. Totally legitimate—I have keys.”
“Oh.” Her disappointment was almost comical. I couldn’t help remembering how Keone and I had broken into the museum the night before. Yep, I was treading on some thin ethical ice with this one, and I might as well continue.
“I could use someone to cover for me here. Tell anyone who asks where I am that I’m doing a special postal inspection at the park. Technically true, since I’ll be checking if Pearl received any mail at her classroom there. Oh—and use the landline to call Sergeant Lei Texeira. Tell her I have some new information for the case, and if she’s out on this side I’d like to catch up in person.”
Pua brightened. “I can do that.”
I glanced around. “Where is Tiki?”
Pua pointed vaguely outside. “She slinked past right when you came back. Probably plotting her next rodent delivery.”
Knowing Tiki, she was more likely planning to meet me at the community center via whatever mysterious cat pathways she used to appear exactly where she was needed. I’d long since stopped questioning her uncanny access and timing.
“I’ll be back before closing or I’ll call,” I promised, grabbing my car keys. “And Pua? Thanks.”
She saluted with her sandwich. “Just doing my duty for truth, justice, and the postal service way.”
The New Ohia State Park was a swath of former pastureland at the edge of town. I’d been a part of wresting it from the grip of a crime family, who had been developing the area as luxury homes. Now it was a work in progress state park, featuring native Hawaiian plants, gentle hiking trails, and views of both mountains and ocean. The community center sat near the entrance—a single-story building with a pool everyone could use.
I parked in the parking lot, noting that it was nearly empty on this weekday afternoon. A few tourists wandered the nearby native Hawaiian healing garden Aunt Fae was helping develop with Josie as head. The community center, a recent expansion on the original clubhouse building, appeared closed today, its doors locked and windows closed.
My caretaker’s ring jingled as I approached the main entrance, heavy with various keys for the park’s facilities. I found the right one and let myself into the community center, flipping on lights as I entered the cool, dim interior.
The center was divided into several classroom spaces and a ballroom/gallery that displayed rotating exhibits of local art and cultural artifacts. Pearl’s origami class was held in the smallest room at the back—an intimate space with large windows overlooking the rise of the hill behind the park’s entrance.
I made my way to the room, footsteps echoing in the empty building. The classroom was neat and orderly, with low tables surrounded by cushions in the traditional Japanese style. Along one wall stood a large cabinet with dozens of small drawers—the type used in art studios to organize materials.
“This must be it,” I murmured, approaching the cabinet. A loud mew from behind me told me Tiki had followed me in. “Don’t know what you think you’ll find here, girl, but Aunt Fae and I have a pest control service keeping these buildings rodent-free.”
The drawers were labeled in Pearl’s precise handwriting: different papers organized by color, weight, and pattern. But it was the larger bottom drawers that caught my attention. These bore labels like “Completed Works – Spring Collection” and “Demo Pieces – Advanced Class.”
