Read Online O'ahu Lonesome Tonight? (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series #5) by JoAnn Bassett - Free Book Online

person. The oldest brother, Stuart, was five years younger
than I, which made him around thirty. His brother Michael was a bit younger.
Stuart had mentioned he’d be bringing his wife. I’d never seen a photo of her.
    We’d agreed to
meet out back in the makai bar, the one next
to beach, before going up to the veranda for tea. I went out back and saw a
mid-twenties guy sitting far from the action. He was hunched under the umbrella
at an empty table—no drink or even a napkin signaling he’d ordered a drink. He
looked a lot like my father, or anyway what I’d seen of my father from photos
and videos. Medium build, with light brown hair and sharp
features. He was tanned and cleanly shaven. My father had looked pretty
much like the Tommy Bahama ideal of a bon vivant haole dude living the tropical dream. And this guy
looked like the younger version.
    “Excuse me,” I
said. I tapped him on the arm to break his absorbed stare at the shorts-clad
bar maid with a bum you could pound taro on. “Are you, by any chance, Stuart or
Michael?”
    “Huh? No.
Sorry, I’m just waiting for my girlfriend.”
    I don’t know if
he thought I was some high-class hooker with a strange pick-up line, but I felt
compelled to explain.
    “Oh, pardon me
for disturbing you. I’m meeting my brothers here.” Which, of
course, didn’t explain anything because at that point he looked even more
confused.
    “Uh, you kind
of look like them,” I stammered. “I haven’t seen either of them for a long
time.” Like never, I thought, but he didn’t need to hear that sad story.
    “Oh.” He
shifted in his chair as if to signal that our conversation was pau , or over.
    “Again, sorry,”
I said backing away.
    I looked
around, hoping to find another likely candidate, but there were none in sight.
Had my brothers changed their minds? Maybe the rain had chased them away. It
wasn’t the best day to be sitting out on an open veranda. Every now and a gust
of wind blew a wave of wet onto the starched white tablecloths and three-tiered
towers of scones and finger sandwiches.
    The irony of
being stood up by the offspring of the man who’d stood me up my whole life
wasn’t lost on me.
     
     
    CHAPTER 10
     
    The guy who
showed up at the Moana veranda at a quarter past two
wore a neatly-pressed aloha short and white slacks. He was the spitting image
of a man I’d only seen on a video after he died—my father.
    “Sorry we
couldn’t get here any sooner,” he said. “The rain’s making everybody pupule . We nearly got clobbered by a fool in a
Mustang convertible going the wrong way through the park.” He grinned and stuck
out a hand. “Stu Wilkerson here. And you must be Pali .”
    I shook his
hand. Stuart had the look and demeanor of a successful real estate broker but
I’d learned on Facebook that he worked at a boat yard that refurbished yachts.
    “And this fine
gentleman is my brother, Michael,” said Stuart. “Or should I say, our brother
Michael.” He gestured toward a guy standing three feet behind him. Michael gave
me a shy wave. He wore a faded HiLife tee-shirt,
rumpled gray cargo shorts, and rubba slippas . He had at least forty pounds on Stuart and he
had longer hair and a dark tan, but his face still bore a striking resemblance
to our father.
    “I go by Moko ,” he said as he stepped up to shake my hand. His hands
were calloused. He seemed ill at ease in the posh surroundings.
    “It’s great to
meet you both,” I said.
    “We better get
seated,” said Stu. “These people don’t operate on ‘island time’.”
    “You’ve been
here for high tea before?” I said.
    “Oh, yeah. My wife’s a big fan. She likes to get all dolled
up and come down here. Thinks it’s a great time.”
    “I thought your
wife would be joining us today,” I said.
    “Yeah, that was
the plan. But she’s got a bun in the oven and she’s being real careful. She was
worried she might catch a cold or something if she came out in the rain.”
    There