Read Online Maui Widow Waltz (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) by JoAnn Bassett - Free Book Online Page A

glanced over at Farrah. She moved
a foot closer to Noni. As if propelled by an opposing force, Noni backed away
in the opposite direction.
    “Anyway, girls, I’ve got to dash,”
said Noni. “I’ve got a million things on my smart-phone calendar. Don’t you
just love technology?” She waggled the small black device at us and then turned
and wobbled down the cereal aisle in her four-inch stilettos. I noticed her
clingy red dress was an orange-red and her shoes a definite blue-red. In the
wedding business, a color gaffe like that was a career-ender.
    At the back door, she hesitated as
she eyed a tower of cardboard boxes waiting to be broken down and recycled.
    “Oh, and Farrah, you better hang on
to these boxes. You’re going to be needing them. You too, Pali.” She flashed us
a mocking sneer; her eyes squinting into what I hoped would become permanent
crow’s feet.
    She pushed the back door open and a
blast of wind swirled her sleek dark hair across her face. “ Aloha, see
you gals later.” She wiggled her fingers in a bye-bye wave.
    The door slammed shut. I waited for
her to bang back in and demand I move my car out of her way, but she didn’t.
Maybe she was smarter than she looked.
     “What kind of evil shit was
that?” said Farrah. “I’m going to have to hire a kahuna to come in and
bless this place all over again. Did you know Noni had signed on as Tank
Sherman’s lackey?”
    “Yeah. She came by my shop last
Tuesday.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “Because I completely forgot about
it. I figured if I pulled off Lisa Marie’s wedding I’d be able to pay his
thieving rent until I could relocate my shop somewhere else. She didn’t say
anything about you and the Vida.”
    Farrah glared at the back door but
kept quiet.
     “So,” I said, “I guess he’s
planning to increase your rent, too. Can you raise prices enough to manage it?”
    “Are you kidding? If I jack my
prices any higher they’ll haul me in for extortion.”
    “Good point.”
    “And the new Wal-Mart down in
Kahului has already cut into my business more than thirty percent.”
    “Did she say how much Tank was paying
for this place?”
    “She’s probably blowing smoke, but
she said it appraised for around two mil.”
    “Wow. If your folks had ever
dreamed this place would be worth that kind of money, I’ll bet they’d never
have sold it.”
    “ Da kine . But they just
wanted to run the store. The taxes and upkeep got to be more than they could
handle.”
    Upkeep? I looked at the worn
interior of the century-old building. The wood plank floor was so rutted by
years of plantation workers’ feet scuffling across it that Farrah had covered the
high traffic areas with jute mats. The mats were frayed and dirty, making the
whole place look and smell like an old army barracks.
    “Two million bucks,” I said,
shaking my head.
    Farrah’s eyes darted around the
store, but she didn’t say anything. I’d known her long enough to recognize when
she was holding something back.
    “There’s more, right?”
    “Yeah. Noni said Tank wants to buy
the store. Not just the building, but the whole business.”
    “She give you a number?”
    “Yeah.”
    When Farrah made me drag stuff out of
her, it usually signaled she was uncomfortable with the message. But I wasn’t
in the mood for twenty questions.
    “Farrah, tell me the whole
thing—now. I’ve got too much going on to play the Barbara Walters thing with
you.”
    “It’s a boatload.” She hesitated.
“Okay, okay, I won’t make you ask again. He’s talking a couple hundred thou.”
    My jaw slackened.
    “But, hey, that includes the
inventory,” she said. In a low voice she added, “I need to give him my answer
by Friday.”
    I gripped the chrome edge of the
produce case. “Why’s he being so generous?”
    “Noni says he’s got his reasons.”
    “You going to do it?”
    “How can I even think about it?
This was my parents’ store; the only thing I have left of them.