Read Online Right from the Gecko by Cynthia Baxter - Free Book Online Page A

free, and within a few decades there were thousands of them all over the island. Cattle handlers from Mexico were brought over to teach the locals how to deal with them. They were called
españols
, meaning Spanish. Somehow, the word evolved into
paniolos
.
    Ranching still took place on Maui, and the term
paniolos
was still used to refer to Hawaiian cowboys who worked on the cattle ranches. These days, most of them were of mixed heritage, every ethnic background imaginable from Portuguese to Japanese to Caucasian.
    â€œFrom the research I’ve done,” he continued, “combined with family lore, I’ve learned I’m descended from one of the original
vaqueros.
A man named Juan Carrera, one of the first of the Mexican cowboys to come over in the mid-1800s.”
    By the way he told the story, it was clear this wasn’t the first time he’d related this bit of family history. It was equally clear that he was darned proud of it.
    â€œMarnie never told me about any of that,” I told him, realizing that Richard Carrera’s revelation about his roots provided me with the perfect opportunity to ask about the rest of the people she worked with. “In fact, even though she worked crazy hours and was really dedicated to her job, she never told me much about the other people at the paper. She mentioned them in passing, of course, but she was always much more interested in talking about the stories she was working on.”
    â€œThere aren’t many of us to talk about,” he replied. “We’re a pretty lean organization.”
    â€œWhat about the other reporters on the staff?” I asked.
    â€œThere’s only one. Bryce Bolt.”
    â€œWere he and Marnie close?” I asked.
    He hesitated before replying. “Not really. Actually, the two of them were pretty competitive with each other. I guess that’s not surprising, since they were both ambitious. They were similar in other ways too. He’s another one who never stops talking, although what he talks about ninety-nine percent of the time is himself. Everybody in this office knows everything there is to know about him. His social life, his apartment, his passion for windsurfing—you name it. Oh, his car too. Can’t leave that out. He’s always talking about his flashy silver BMW. He bought it used, but still, I’m sure it’s a financial burden.” He snorted. “I guess maintaining his image matters to him more than the struggle of keeping up with the monthly payments, but that’s Bryce for you. A real show-off.”
    I made a mental note to try to corner him while I was at the office, since I suspected he might be a good source of information about what was going on in Marnie’s life. Especially her professional life, which at the moment was what interested me most.
    â€œIs there a photographer on staff too?” I asked, curious about the person who sat at the desk with the photos tacked up above it.
    â€œWe use a freelance photographer,” Mr. Carrera replied. “He also does the layouts. He’s in and out all the time, does some of the work from home. Then there’s Peggy Ehrhart, who handles advertising. The classified ads too. Real estate, help wanted, used cars. But she’s only part-time. Most of our advertisers are regulars who put ads in every week, so Peggy’s job is pretty routine. The only other person here is Karen Nelson, our receptionist. You spoke with her when you came in.”
    Leaning forward in my chair, I asked earnestly, “Mr. Carrera, do you think it’s possible any of the people Marnie worked with had anything to do with what happened?”
    â€œI sincerely doubt that,” he replied, sounding a bit defensive. “We’re a family here. When you work with such a small group, you become very close in a very short time. There’s no way anybody at the
Dispatch
wished her any harm.”
    I suddenly had another