Read Online The House at Sandalwood by Virginia Coffman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Virginia Coffman
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I know of.”
In a deeper sense, I thought, it really was the right word. And I realized that we understood each other without having spelled out the problem. Another part of that loyalty.
“You may count on me, I promise you.”
“Good.” He held out his hand and clasped mine. He turned away, then thought of something. “Did we mention the Berringers yesterday in Honolulu?”
I wasn’t sure. I had talked to someone about them yesterday afternoon, but wasn’t it Ito Nagata who had mentioned them?
“I know a little about them. Ingrid Berringer was Deirdre’s school friend. They came to Hawaii after graduation. Then...”
“I met and married Deirdre. It all happened fast.” I looked at him and he smiled. “I know. I make up my mind in a hurry. At any rate, the Berringer girl stayed around Waikiki for a few days. She tried for a secretarial job with us but hadn’t enough experience. So it is rather odd and annoying that these Berringers should be hounding my offices about the girl. We haven’t seen her in almost a year. She was over here on Ili-Ahi a few times before our marriage. And that does it!”
“But then why should anyone be concerned over here on Ili-Ahi?”
“Because there seems to be a story going the rounds that the Berringer girl visited Ili-Ahi two days or so after our marriage.”
“While you were on your honeymoon?”
“There was no honeymoon.”
That left me briefly nonplussed. Before I could think of any comment at all that would not be embarrassing, he saluted me with a jaunty flip of three fingers to his forehead and went out by a back door that I hadn’t noticed before. It was probably near the downstairs lanai . By the time I reached the front stairs, intending to go up and see if Deirdre was in her room, I heard her call to me from the veranda.
“Here I am, Judy. Hurry! Hurry!”
Not knowing what to expect, I rushed out and found she simply wanted a companion for nothing more important than a walk across the island to the village where Ilima’s people had lived and sustained the pureblood line for almost two hundred years.
As we crossed the green open space and entered onto the path to the west of the Sandalwood heiau , the Hawaiians’ kapu ground, I thought I heard someone call to us. I stopped, but Deirdre pulled on my arm.
“Come on!”
I looked back. The path had wound around a huge growth of bougainvillea intermingled with stiff, shiny vines, and I couldn’t see what was happening at the big house except that someone was out in front, waving to us. “It looks like that pretty daughter of Ilima’s,” I said.
“Let’s pretend we didn’t see her. I like Kekua, but she is a bit on the nosy side. Judy, come on. I want to show you the rapids and the falls above the river.”
She was much too anxious to get me away from the house. I went back a few steps, saw Kekua motioning to me. She was looking very sexy in a white bikini that contrasted with the deep mahogany of her flesh. Tentatively, I started toward her. She began to run in my direction. We were still several yards apart when she called to me.
“They’re here. They insist on talking with Mrs. Steve. I was down swimming when I saw the boat come across. Steve’s boat missed them by a hair.”
With a sinking feeling, I thought that in spite of all the millions of people in the world, she could only be talking about Ingrid Berringer’s father. At the same time, I was sure this explained Deirdre’s frantic desire to get away from the house. Either she had known they were coming this early or she had guessed it. It was too bad they had missed Stephen Giles on the way down, but perhaps their boats had passed each other. As the two men suddenly appeared on the steep, rising path, I saw that they were alone. A tall, thin, forty-ish man with salt-and-pepper hair, cold eyes, and a certain elegance walked ahead, very much the leader. He was accompanied by a shorter, stockier man with the ingratiating face of a
In a deeper sense, I thought, it really was the right word. And I realized that we understood each other without having spelled out the problem. Another part of that loyalty.
“You may count on me, I promise you.”
“Good.” He held out his hand and clasped mine. He turned away, then thought of something. “Did we mention the Berringers yesterday in Honolulu?”
I wasn’t sure. I had talked to someone about them yesterday afternoon, but wasn’t it Ito Nagata who had mentioned them?
“I know a little about them. Ingrid Berringer was Deirdre’s school friend. They came to Hawaii after graduation. Then...”
“I met and married Deirdre. It all happened fast.” I looked at him and he smiled. “I know. I make up my mind in a hurry. At any rate, the Berringer girl stayed around Waikiki for a few days. She tried for a secretarial job with us but hadn’t enough experience. So it is rather odd and annoying that these Berringers should be hounding my offices about the girl. We haven’t seen her in almost a year. She was over here on Ili-Ahi a few times before our marriage. And that does it!”
“But then why should anyone be concerned over here on Ili-Ahi?”
“Because there seems to be a story going the rounds that the Berringer girl visited Ili-Ahi two days or so after our marriage.”
“While you were on your honeymoon?”
“There was no honeymoon.”
That left me briefly nonplussed. Before I could think of any comment at all that would not be embarrassing, he saluted me with a jaunty flip of three fingers to his forehead and went out by a back door that I hadn’t noticed before. It was probably near the downstairs lanai . By the time I reached the front stairs, intending to go up and see if Deirdre was in her room, I heard her call to me from the veranda.
“Here I am, Judy. Hurry! Hurry!”
Not knowing what to expect, I rushed out and found she simply wanted a companion for nothing more important than a walk across the island to the village where Ilima’s people had lived and sustained the pureblood line for almost two hundred years.
As we crossed the green open space and entered onto the path to the west of the Sandalwood heiau , the Hawaiians’ kapu ground, I thought I heard someone call to us. I stopped, but Deirdre pulled on my arm.
“Come on!”
I looked back. The path had wound around a huge growth of bougainvillea intermingled with stiff, shiny vines, and I couldn’t see what was happening at the big house except that someone was out in front, waving to us. “It looks like that pretty daughter of Ilima’s,” I said.
“Let’s pretend we didn’t see her. I like Kekua, but she is a bit on the nosy side. Judy, come on. I want to show you the rapids and the falls above the river.”
She was much too anxious to get me away from the house. I went back a few steps, saw Kekua motioning to me. She was looking very sexy in a white bikini that contrasted with the deep mahogany of her flesh. Tentatively, I started toward her. She began to run in my direction. We were still several yards apart when she called to me.
“They’re here. They insist on talking with Mrs. Steve. I was down swimming when I saw the boat come across. Steve’s boat missed them by a hair.”
With a sinking feeling, I thought that in spite of all the millions of people in the world, she could only be talking about Ingrid Berringer’s father. At the same time, I was sure this explained Deirdre’s frantic desire to get away from the house. Either she had known they were coming this early or she had guessed it. It was too bad they had missed Stephen Giles on the way down, but perhaps their boats had passed each other. As the two men suddenly appeared on the steep, rising path, I saw that they were alone. A tall, thin, forty-ish man with salt-and-pepper hair, cold eyes, and a certain elegance walked ahead, very much the leader. He was accompanied by a shorter, stockier man with the ingratiating face of a
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