Page 8 of Tiki Beach (Paradise Crime Cozy Mystery #6)

The drive to Pearl’s beach house took us along the winding coastal road, a journey I’d made just yesterday for what was supposed to be a simple tea party.

Late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pavement as Keone navigated the turns with practiced ease.

How different everything looked now, though the same turquoise waves still crashed against black lava rocks and the same rainbow-colored bougainvillea spilled over lichen covered stone garden walls.

Ilima sat in the front passenger seat, her muumuu arranged elegantly.

She’d been quiet for most of the drive, her fingers absently touching the orchids in her lei po‘o or pleating the fabric of her dress as she gazed out the window.

I could almost see the campaign speeches and community plans forming behind her thoughtful eyes.

Pearl’s home came into view—a charming single-story plantation style house perched on a bluff overlooking the Pacific. The plantings and acreage around it that were to become the Heritage Tea Garden looked rather ordinary now, but I had glimpsed what was intended for them.

Yesterday, the property had seemed welcoming and peaceful. Today, the shadows slanted long and hinted at secrets.

As we pulled into the crushed coral driveway, I noticed a blue Honda Civic parked near the back steps. “That’s Kawika’s car,” I said, recognizing the faded surf shop sticker on the bumper.

“Good,” Ilima nodded. “I was hoping he’d be here.”

We got out of the pickup, the warm air heavy with the scent of plumeria from the trees that lined Pearl’s walkway.

Their fallen blossoms created a fragrant carpet beneath our feet as we approached the small back porch.

Before we reached the steps, the door opened and Kawika stepped out.

Today he wore pale blue scrubs and his long black hair was tied in a neat ponytail, suggesting he’d come straight from his other job, which Pearl had told me was as a nurse at the Hana Health Clinic.

His grim expression brightened at the sight of us. “Auntie Ilima!” he called, hurrying down the steps to embrace Keone’s mother with obvious affection.

“Kawika. My boy.” Ilima cupped his face in her hands the way only Hawaiian aunties can, studying him with concern. “You look exhausted.”

He shrugged broad shoulders, the gesture conveying both acknowledgment and dismissal of her worry. “Been a long day.” His eyes moved to Keone. “Good to see you, cuz. And Kat, good to see you again.”

I blinked in surprise. “Cuz? Like—really a cousin or just social cousin? Because everyone seems related on this side of the island.”

Keone slanted me a smile. “Did I never mention that Kawika is my father’s sister’s son’s son. First cousin once removed.”

“Which makes him my grandnephew by marriage,” Ilima added, patting Kawika’s shoulder fondly. “Though removed enough that I don’t feel quite as ancient as that makes me sound.”

“Huh. I don’t know how you all keep track of that,” I said, feeling a little pang. “Aunt Fae is my only living relative that I’m aware of.”

“Well, I am not a Kaihale—my last name is Pali,” Kawika said. “But in Hawaii, if we had to explain how every cousin was related before getting down to business, we’d never get anything done.”

That drew a chuckle from all of us.

“How is Pearl?” I asked, unable to contain my concern any longer. “Any change since this morning?”

“Ms. Pearl’s stable but still unconscious. They’re talking about bringing her back to Maui, where her regular medical team can work with her.” Kawika’s smile faded. He gestured toward the house. “Let’s go inside. We can talk more comfortably there.”

The interior of Pearl’s home was immaculate and tastefully decorated with a blend of Japanese and Hawaiian influences.

Delicate rice paper screens divided the open living area, creating intimate spaces filled with treasures from Pearl’s long life: antique Japanese woodblock prints, koa wood carvings, and photographs spanning decades of Hawaii’s history.

We settled in the sitting area near large windows that framed the ocean view. The late afternoon sun streamed in, illuminating dancing dust motes in the air. Everything looked the same as it had yesterday—except for the tea service, which had been cleared away.

“The neurologists are actually keeping her sedated right now,” Kawika explained, sitting on the edge of an armchair, his posture suggesting he might need to rush away at any moment. “They believe it’s best for her brain to rest while they monitor the swelling.”

“Swelling?” Ilima asked sharply. “What caused that?”

Kawika hesitated as if choosing his words carefully.

“The initial diagnosis was a stroke, but some of her symptoms didn’t quite fit that profile.

” He lowered his voice, though we were alone in the house.

“After the toxicology screen came back, they found elevated levels of certain compounds consistent with a plant-based toxin.”

“Oh no,” Ilima whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. The orchids in her lei po‘o trembled. “So it wasn’t natural.”

“Between us—yes, the medical team is treating this as a poisoning case. MPD has been notified,” Kawika said. “But please, don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course we won’t.” My bracelet suddenly felt hot against my skin as I rubbed it back and forth. “I thought something was off yesterday, so I took samples of the tea. Keone delivered them to Detective Texeira at the MPD in Kahului. She said she would test them at their lab.”

Kawika nodded. “Good initiative, Kat. That could help the doctors identify exactly what we’re dealing with.” His gaze moved to Keone. “Your girlfriend has good instincts, cousin. If she hadn’t thought to preserve that evidence . . .”

“She’s saved lives before,” Mr. K said, his hand finding mine to give it a warm and reassuring squeeze. “And she’ll help save Pearl’s too.”

“We came for a reason, Kawika.” Ilima rose from her seat with purpose, adjusting her muumuu to fall into its usual graceful lines. “We need to find the sandalwood box where Pearl kept important documents.”

Kawika’s brows drew together. “What kind of documents?”

“Possible evidence of corruption,” Keone said. “Related to Mom’s upcoming mayoral campaign and Pearl’s Heritage Tea Garden project.”

“Wow. I had no idea something like that was going on, let alone that she was gathering evidence,” Kawika said, frowning. “But I did know you two had a big announcement to make. She was so excited about your campaign, Auntie Ilima.” He stood. “Her home office is this way.”

Kawika led us down a short hallway lined with more photographs—Pearl with various dignitaries through the decades, Pearl receiving community service awards, Pearl standing proudly before her school when she was still teaching. Through it all, she’d never let her spinal injury keep her down.

The final photo showed a much younger Pearl, dressed in traditional costume, beside a handsome Japanese man, also in vintage cultural fashion. He had to be her husband, who had died decades ago.

The office was a small but well-organized space, dominated by a beautiful koa wood desk positioned to face a window overlooking the garden. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with volumes on Hawaiian history, Japanese culture, and botanical references.

“The box should be in her desk drawer,” Ilima said, moving toward the desk with purpose. “Pearl showed me where she kept it.”

Kawika hung back in the doorway, his expression troubled. “I should mention—someone was in here looking for something.”

We all froze and stared at him. “What do you mean?” Mr. K asked.

“When I came by this morning on my way to work to water the plants, the office was . . . not like this.” Kawika gestured to the perfectly organized space.

“It wasn’t ransacked or anything obvious, but things had been moved.

Books rearranged, desk drawers not quite closed.

Someone went through her things very carefully, trying not to show they’d been here.

I couldn’t find any signs of forced entry, so I tidied up, thinking someone from the tea party must have poked around in here yesterday. ”

Ilima pulled open the center drawer of the desk. Her sharp intake of breath told us everything we needed to know before she spoke. “The box is gone.”

The four of us stood in silence as the implications sank in.

Someone had poisoned Pearl and stolen the evidence she planned to reveal.

And whoever it was had been meticulous enough to get in and search her home without leaving obvious signs of disturbance.

“We need to search the house,” Ilima declared, her regal bearing vibrating with energy and indignation. “Whoever took the box might have taken something else, or Pearl might have hidden copies of the documents elsewhere.”

Kawika shifted uncomfortably, moving to stand in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Auntie Ilima, but I can’t allow that.”

Ilima blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Pearl named me power of attorney, executor of her estate, and medical power of attorney,” Kawika explained, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m legally responsible for her property and privacy. Without her conscious permission or a court order, I can’t authorize a search of her home.”

“But Kawika, sweetheart,” Ilima’s voice held an edge of disbelief, “we’re family. We’re trying to help Pearl.”

“I know,” he said. “And I appreciate that. But Pearl values her privacy above all else.” He gestured to the now empty drawer.

“The fact that someone has already violated that makes me even more determined to protect what remains. I’m going to move into the spare bedroom here until she returns.

Maybe after she’s home too, to keep an eye on her safety. ”

“Good of you, Kawika. She might also need round-the-clock care.” Keone placed a restraining hand on his mother’s arm. “He’s right, Mom. Legally speaking, Kawika has to protect Pearl’s interests.”

“This is about Pearl’s interests!” Ilima protested, the orchids in her lei po‘o shedding petals with her agitation. “Someone poisoned her, Kawika. Someone tried to kill her.”

“And the police are investigating,” Kawika replied calmly. “If Detective Texeira wants to search the house, she can. I’ll cooperate fully with any official investigation.” His eyes softened. “Please understand, Auntie. I made a promise to Pearl to watch over her home.”

Conflicting emotions play across Ilima’s face—concern for her friend, frustration at the obstacle, and pride in her nephew’s integrity all battled for dominance.

“Well,” Ilima said, drawing herself up to her full height, “I suppose Pearl would appreciate your dedication to your responsibilities.” The words were gracious, but her tone suggested she was far from pleased.

“ Mahalo for understanding,” Kawika said diplomatically.

“We should get going,” Mr. K said, sensing the tension. “Kawika needs to tie up loose ends to stay here, and we have other avenues to explore.”

Ilima gave a nod, her muumuu swishing as she turned toward the door. “Of course. Keep us informed of any changes in Pearl’s condition, Kawika.”

“I will, Auntie. Every update, I promise.”

We followed Ilima back through the house. Her shoulders were stiffer than when we’d arrived, and her normally flowing stride had taken on a determined cadence that spoke volumes about her mood.

When we reached the porch, Kawika touched my arm lightly, holding me back as Keone escorted his mother to his truck.

“Kat,” he said quietly, “I truly am sorry. But Pearl has secrets beyond what you know. She would want them protected.”

“I understand,” I said, surprising myself by meaning it. “But if those secrets got her poisoned?—”

“Then the truth needs to come out,” he agreed. “Just . . . through the proper channels.”

I nodded, watching as Keone handed Ilima up. She got into the truck with offended dignity, her back straight and her chin high.

“Take care of Pearl for us,” I said, giving Kawika’s arm a pat before joining the others.

As we pulled away from Pearl’s peaceful beach house, I glanced back to see Kawika standing on the porch, his tall figure silhouetted against the golden afternoon light. He raised a hand in farewell, looking very alone with the weight of his responsibilities.

In the front seat, Ilima adjusted her lei po‘o with precise movements. “Well,” she announced to no one in particular, “it seems Pearl trusted her affairs to the right person. Loyal to a fault, that boy.”

Despite her huffed tone, I caught the flash of respect in her eyes. Family was complicated, especially Hawaiian family. But at the end of the day, integrity mattered more than convenience to future mayor Ilima Kaihale.

And somehow, that made me love her even more.