03 - Three Odd Balls

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Authors: Cindy Blackburn
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had landed on one of the beds. “Help me!” I pleaded. “They’ll be back any minute.”
    He stepped inside and finally, finally started to pick up a few things. “I cannot believe I’m helping you cover your tracks.” He found the wallet and assembled the miscellaneous wallet-stuff from the other bed.
    “Come on, Wilson,” I said as I handed him the stack I had gathered. “It’s not like I was going to steal anything. I’m not a criminal, for Lord’s sake.”
    He stopped his sorting and stared at me. “Probably not,” he mumbled after far too much contemplation.
    We put the wallet back together as best we could, put it back where I had found it, and got the heck out of there.
    ***
    Personally, I was ready to join in all that Christmas cheer happening down at The Big House. But as soon as we rounded the swimming pool pavilion, Wilson grabbed my elbow and held me back.
    “Go ahead,” I told him. “Get it out of your system.”
    He did so, and in hushed but stern tones, reminded me how we had agreed to leave things to Captain Vega. Then he moved on to the part about how I could have been caught pilfering the Coochie bungalow. He concluded with a scathing assessment of my questionable character and poor judgment. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Naughty about sums it up.
    I waited patiently until he was quite through. “Dianne Calloway,” I said, and it was his turn to jump ten feet in the air.
    Thus I launched into a scolding of my own. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I commenced a lengthy rant, questioning why his deep dark secrets needed to be so very deep and dark, and why I was reduced to learning the vital details about his past from my mother of all people. “My mother!” I stamped my flip flop and offered an indignant huff.
    “Tessie told you the details?” he asked.
    “No!” I practically shouted, and we both jerked our heads toward The Big House. “She doesn’t know the details,” I said more quietly, and Wilson breathed a sigh of relief.
    “Yet,” I added ominously.
    “Well then.” He took another deep breath. “Let’s get back to Vega, shall we?”
    I folded my arms and glared. “Go ahead, Wilson. Change the subject.”
    Unfortunately, he did so. “I know it’s hard to leave things to Vega.” He was back to his annoyingly calm and sensible self. “It’s hard for me, too. You get it?”
    “Let me guess. It’s out of our jurisdiction.”
    “Our?”
    “Okay, your. It’s out of your jurisdiction. But Captain Vega doesn’t seem all that interested in what happened. He hasn’t been here all day.”
    “What? No way.”
    “I certainly haven’t seen him.” I turned to face the Song of the Sea, this time from a safe distance. “They stay here every year, you know?
    “The ukulele players?”
    “They come for The Yuletide Ukulele Jamboree.”
    “And?”
    “And therefore,” I glanced back at Wilson, “both of the Hoochie Coochies must have known Davy Atwell. At least one of them could have had a motive.”
    “Such as?”
    “Heck, I don’t know. But they arrived just hours before the guy got killed. And their light was on when I walked by their bungalow last night.” I shrugged. “It seemed suspicious when I thought about it, so I decided to check it out.”
    “What? In hopes of finding the murder weapon?”
    “Exactly.”
    “You’re a little scary. You know that?”
    ***
    “Kekipi Crater rocks!” Christopher Rye announced the minute we entered The Big House.
    “That tree rocks.” I pointed to the huge Christmas tree, which now dominated a significant portion of the lobby.
    “Rocks,” Bee Bee agreed from his vantage-point up in the rafters.
    “It’s fantastical,” Louise said, and Bee Bee agreed with her also.
    Mother stood up from where she was hanging miniature leis on the lower branches. “Aren’t these just darling, Jessie?” She jiggled a little orange lei. “Buster did a good job selecting ornaments, didn’t he?”
    Buster was wringing his hands as usual, but was

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