Page 19 of Tiki Beach (Paradise Crime Cozy Mystery #6)

A noise at the door made me jump, but it was only Tiki.

She must have pushed the swing-style front door open.

She strolled in as if she owned the place, leapt onto the nearby craft table, and began inspecting the unfolded crane I held with feline curiosity.

She then walked over and pawed gently at a different crane in the drawer—this one folded from metallic red paper with gold accents.

Unlike the others, which were arranged in rows, this one sat slightly apart.

“That one, Tiki? Okay, I’ll check it out.

” I carefully lifted the crane. Like the first, it felt weightier than expected.

But the weight came not just from writing, but from something small and solid nestled within the folds.

As the last crease came undone, a tiny metallic object fell onto the table.

“A data drive,” I breathed, picking up the small device. It was no larger than my fingernail, one of those ultra-compact models designed for maximum storage in minimal space.

The origami crane’s paper itself was covered in Pearl’s handwriting, but these weren’t just names and numbers. This was a message:

“To whoever finds this—if you’re reading this, something has happened to me.

The drive contains evidence of crimes committed by Felix Santos during the war and covered up by his family for generations.

The origami cranes in this collection each document a stolen item and its rightful owner.

This is my legacy of truth. May these cranes fly and bring justice. —Pearl Yamamoto”

My hands trembled as I held the tiny drive. Here was the evidence Pearl had collected, the proof she’d mentioned to Mr. Takahashi—all hidden in her origami classroom.

The sound of the community center’s front door opening fully and hitting a wall echoed through the building. Footsteps approached—too heavy to be Keone’s.

Tiki’s ears flattened, and she let out a low growl, the fur on her spine rising.

I pocketed the drive and began refolding the cranes, refolding them to their original state and tucking them in my pockets. Whoever was coming, I didn’t want them to know what I’d found.

“Ms. Smith?” A male voice called. “Are you in here?”

“Just a moment,” I called, closing the drawer and moving to block the cabinet from view. “We’re not open today.”

My stomach tightened as I recognized David Santos, the mayor’s son, standing in the doorway. The planning department official who had been blocking Pearl’s permits had tracked me down somehow. This couldn’t be good.

David wore the casual-but-expensive polo shirt and chinos that seemed to be the uniform for government officials in Hawaii. His resemblance to his father was striking; he had the same square jaw and calculating brown eyes. His hair was dark while the mayor’s had gone silver.

Tiki positioned herself between me and the door, her tail puffed to twice its normal size—a warning sign I’d learned to heed.

“The door was unlocked,” David Santos said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I saw your car and thought I’d see what brings the Ohia postmaster to the community center.”

“Just checking on the facility.” I forced a friendly tone. “Aunt Fae and I are the weekend caretakers. We like to make sure everything’s in order mid-week too. We haven’t met, but you seem to know my name.”

“You’re well-known in the community. And I’m David Santos.

Planning Commission. Mayor Santos is my dad.

Our paths were bound to cross sometime; it might as well be now.

” His gaze swept the room, lingering on the cabinet behind me.

“Ah, Pearl Yamamoto’s origami supplies. She’s quite the artist, isn’t she? Such a shame about her . . . illness.”

“Yes, we’re all hoping for a speedy recovery,” I said. Tiki was advancing toward David, her body low to the ground in stalking position.

“Some things, once broken, can never be fully restored,” he said, his voice taking on a philosophical tone. “Perhaps it’s the same with health. And reputations.”

“Reputations?” I needed to keep him talking; see what I could get out of him even as I gauged the distance to the door. This guy was blocking the only exit from the small classroom. I could take him, though, if I had to; my Secret Service hand-to-hand skills might be rusty, but they weren’t gone.

“Family legacies are fragile things,” he went on in the same musing tone. “My grandfather built ours from nothing. My father has maintained and improved it. And I . . .” he paused, his eyes narrowing . . “I won’t allow it to be destroyed by old lies better left forgotten.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Best to play dumb a little longer.

“I think you do,” David hissed. “You and your boyfriend have been busy. The museum archives. Pearl’s property. You’ve been digging up the past, Kat Smith. That’s dangerous work.”

The threat was barely veiled now. “We’re just trying to help Pearl.” I stepped sideways, trying to put distance between us, but he matched my movement, advancing into the room.

“Did you send that anonymous text?” I asked, deciding direct confrontation might be my best option. “The one threatening me if I didn’t stop investigating?”

A flicker crossed his face. “Text? No. But whoever sent it gave good advice.” His hand moved to his pocket. I tensed, unsure what he might be reaching for.

Before he could withdraw whatever it was, Tiki launched herself at his legs.

That one eared, kink-tailed, yowling, twenty-pound calico streak of fury hit his thighs with her claws extended. David let out a startled howl, stumbling backward, as Tiki’s claws connected with, and penetrated, his expensive pants.

“What the—hellcat!” he shouted, trying to kick or knock her loose without success. “Get off!”

I seized the opportunity to dart past him. A waft of sandalwood cologne, tainted with sweat, hit my nose. Tiki disengaged as quickly as she’d attacked, racing ahead of me down the hallway toward the entrance.

“Kat Smith!” David yelled after me, voice sharp with anger. “Stay out of our business! This isn’t over!”

“It is unless you want serious injury from my cat!” I hollered over my shoulder. I pushed through the front door into the bright afternoon sunlight.

To my surprise, Lei’s truck was pulling into the lot at that moment, her cop light flashing on the dash.

She opened the door and stepped out, looking ready for action in slim black jeans and a tan cotton blazer.

Sunlight winked off the detective shield on her belt.

“Pua called and said you sounded excited about something at the community center.”

“David Santos, the planning commissioner, is inside,” I said. “He threatened me. And I found something—evidence Pearl hid in her origami cranes collection.”

“Where is Santos now?” Lei asked, her hand coming to rest on the service weapon at her hip.

As if on cue, Santos emerged from the center, composure restored except for the distinct, blood-spotted claw marks visible on the rumpled chino fabric of his thighs.

He stopped short at the sight of Lei and me talking.

“Detective,” he said. “I was just having a conversation with Ms. Smith about proper authorization for accessing park facilities.”

“Really?” Lei said. “Because it sounded more like you were threatening her about our investigation into Pearl Yamamoto’s attempted murder.”

Santos’s face remained neutral. “Ms. Smith misunderstood. I was just expressing concern about the dangers of spreading unfounded rumors about respected community members.”

“Like your grandfather the war criminal?” I rapped out.

Something dark flickered in his eyes before he masked it with a politician’s smile.

“I should get back to the office. Permit applications to review.” He nodded curtly and moved toward his car, giving Tiki a wide berth.

“You’re lucky I’m not lodging a complaint with animal control about that dangerous feline. ”

I rolled my eyes and bit my lip on any further comment—I actually didn’t want to have to deal with something like that.

Lei watched the planning commissioner go, her expression thoughtful. “I’ll be following up with that man. Downtown in handcuffs, preferably.”

I pulled the tiny drive from my pocket. “I found this hidden in one of Pearl’s origami cranes.

According to her note, it contains evidence of crimes committed by Felix Santos, David’s grandfather, during the war.

Crimes the family has been covering up for generations.

We should go back inside and collect the cranes as evidence, now that he’s out of the room. ”

“But how did he know you were here?” Lei frowned.

“Good question,” I said. “Someone’s keeping tabs on my movements. First the threatening text—which might have been him—and now this.”

Lei held out her hand. “Let me see that drive. We need to find out exactly what Pearl discovered.”

I placed the tiny device in her palm, feeling both relief at sharing the burden and reluctance to give up our key evidence. “We’ve got more info I haven’t had time to update you on that speaks to motive.”

Just then, the smoke alarm went off inside the building. A rush of apprehension tightened my gut as Lei and I ran to investigate.

Sure enough, David Santos had burned all of Pearl’s carefully constructed cranes in the steel trash can inside the classroom. “Oh no!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t even have time to photograph them!”

“At least we still have the drive,” Lei said as I dumped a vase of water on the smoldering ash in the can.

“Let’s go to the Hana police station and see what’s on it.

And I’ll need a statement from you about David’s threats.

Nice work, by the way,” she added, glancing down at Tiki, who was now sitting serenely beside my vehicle as if she hadn’t just assaulted a local official.

“Tiki has good instincts about people,” I said, bending to stroke her. Tiki turned on a purr that sounded like a motorboat with a bad gas mix and wound around my ankles.

“Better than some humans I know,” Lei said. “I’ll take this back to the Hana station and see what’s on the drive. If there’s solid evidence, we might have enough to bring Santos in for questioning.”

“I wish I could go with you, but the case has taken enough of my workday,” I said regretfully. “Since I’ve got you though, let me catch you up on what Keone and I uncovered yesterday.”

“Anything hard? Because I need something to tie all this historical stuff to the attack on Pearl.”

“Afraid not, but it’s still important.” I filled her in on yesterday’s events. “We’re gathering quite a cache of motive.”

“And it’s getting the Santoses moving,” Lei said.

“Unfortunately, burning those cranes is nothing more than a minor fire violation, but I’ve got that in my back pocket to charge him with if I have to.

Hopefully I find more evidence on the drive.

Until next time—keep up the good work, Kat.

” Her gaze fell to Tiki, sitting at my feet, and an elusive dimple creased her cheek. “And cat.”