Shimura Trouble

“Any update of when Four Guys on the Edge is arriving?” I asked.

“Maybe an hour or two away. Can’t tell for sure, but don’t leave.” She smiled at me. “You could kill the time with a few drinks in the bar. Our mai tais are infamous.”

The characters in Juanita Sheridan novels were always sipping mai tais, but I couldn’t risk getting tipsy when I had to drive back to Kainani and serve dinner to nine people. “Maybe later. By the way, I noticed a picture in the trophy room-a man called Lindsay Pierce. Is he involved with Pierce Holdings?”

“Hmmm. Lindsay is the younger son, and he left fifteen or twenty years ago for California. As far as I know, he’s retired. Pierce Holdings isn’t actively run by the family anymore, just its corporate people.”

“Is there an older son?”

“Yes, Josiah Pierce, or JP Junior, as people used to call him in my parents’ day, when his father was still living. He retired back in the 1970s, but I believe he lives up on Tantalus at the old family house.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” I said. “There’s a little real-estate deal I’m looking into, with a Pierce connection. I’d love to talk to him directly.”

Georgina raised her eyebrows, as if measuring me in a new way. “Like I said, JP’s still in Tantalus, but I’m sure he’s unlisted. And…I really shouldn’t do this, but…there’s got to be an old club directory lying around somewhere.” She said a few words to the bartender, who produced one from under the counter.

“Let me mark this down for you,” Georgina said, writing on the back of a bill.

“Thank you.” I chatted a while longer with Georgina, and when she was called away to the telephone, I took advantage of the break to step outside of the building toward the water and tried the number she’d given me. It rang almost ten times, an unusual occurrence in a world now filled with answering machines, but at last an aged- sounding male voice answered.

“My name is Rei Shimura,” I said, after I’d ascertained I was speaking with Josiah Pierce the Second. “Actually, I’m a friend of a friend-Georgina Dobbs.”

“Oh, from the yacht club. You’re calling to try to get me to contribute to a fundraiser?” His voice sounded dismissive.

“No. I’m trying to put together an accurate historical record. I hope to interview you about something relating to the plantation.”

“You shouldn’t disturb me at home about that kind of thing. It’s all handled out of our offices in Kapolei.”

“I’m afraid the officers of Pierce Holdings may be too young to help me. They weren’t around sixty-some years ago.”

He paused. “Who did you say you were? And what’s your company-or is it a magazine?”

“My name is Rei Shimura,” I repeated. “And I’m actually just visiting from the mainland. I know it sounds forward, but I would very much like to talk to you, face to face.”

“Well, then.” He paused, as if making a decision. “Can you come to me?”

“I’d be very happy to do that.”

“How about tomorrow, say one o’clock?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“My house is close to the top of the road in the last stretch of houses before the parkland at the top.”

“Is there a number?”

“Yes, twenty-seven. But you’ll know it because of the roses.”

MORE THAN AN hour passed, during which I consumed two virgin mai tais and kept consulting my watch, wondering how late I could get away with leaving Honolulu for the Leeward side. But my patience was rewarded as, finally, a ripple went through the yacht club’s bar. Four Guys on the Edge had passed Diamond Head and would be at the dock within a half-hour.

“You must be happy to see your friend,” Georgina said as we left the building and walked along the dock, where most of the slips were filled with yachts, large and small, that belonged to the local crowd. “And it looks like his boat will be finishing first in its class. Has that happened before?”

“He’s never sailed this race, although the man who owns the boat is pretty seasoned. But Michael said something about there being a staggered start, which would put the boat’s finishing rank into question still, wouldn’t it?”

“That’s right. The boats leaving Newport Beach don’t all depart at the same time; there are so many of them, it could cause accidents. Instead, the boats follow a staggered schedule, and we record their total elapsed time, and subtract or add their handicap. The goal is for all the boats to get here around the same time, so we can celebrate together at the awards dinner-you’ll be going, I assume?”

“I’m not sure. Hey, is that the boat coming in?”

“No, dear, that’s just the shuttle taking people back and forth between the yacht clubs. But out on the horizon, I think I see something.”

The speck of something dark in the water became larger, and indeed it was a sailboat-a handsome, sleek hull. Four men were aboard, busily rolling down sails and guiding the boat into place. They all wore navy-blue polo shirts and ball caps obstructing their bearded faces. Michael hadn’t had a beard before, so I was having trouble recognizing him. I bided my time, making guesses. Michael might have been the wiry man pulling down the front sail…or was he the one at the wheel?

Even after Four Guys on the Edge had docked, I couldn’t discern Michael from the others. Then I noticed that one of the men had a bit of silver hair showing from under a Naval Academy cap, and was waving frantically at me. We made eye contact, and my stomach made the funny little skip that it had been doing for the last few months.

“Welcome to Hawaii,” I called out to Michael, whose eyes were bluer than I remembered, set against the deep tan he’d developed. The sea life clearly had agreed with him, I thought as he took off his cap and ran his fingers through his closely cropped, salt-and-pepper hair. He was making no effort to disembark after the boat was tied up and, as if sensing my disappointment, Georgina explained that they couldn’t set foot on Hawaiian soil until the customs agent had thoroughly inspected the boat for contraband.

The crowd around us was growing-after all, these were the first to arrive in the fifty-foot class, which was worthy of a big celebration. Georgina and I handed up the drinks, and each man took one and also bent his head to receive a lei made of yellow and white flowers and kukui nuts, the fruit from Hawaii’s state tree. But when it was Michael’s turn to take the lei, his arms were suddenly around me and, before I realized it, I’d been pulled up the rigging and on to the boat.

“I missed you too much to wait a moment longer,” Michael said as he embraced me in a classic friendly hug, perfect for public observation. This close, I smelled something slightly astringent about him-the seawater, and something else.

“What am I smelling on you-cologne?” I teased as we separated.

“No. It’s joy.”

What a romantic. “I’m happy too, but I smell something-a kind of citrus aroma.”

“No, it’s Joy. You know, the dishwashing soap? We mix it with seawater to clean ourselves.” Michael laughed. “Speaking of cleaning up, I can’t wait to get off this boat and get a real shower, not to mention shave this thing off.” Michael rubbed at his chin.

“Sure,” I said rashly, since the family dinner was still two and a half hours away. “I’d be happy to drive all of you to the hotel.”

That opened the floodgates for me with his three crewmates, all of whom had been quietly watching and smiling. I could understand the interest: their good friend had been without female companionship for years, so the appearance of a real woman was a curiosity. Michael introduced me to the Afghanistan and Iraq returnee, Kurt Schaefer, a deeply tanned, muscular man with white-blond hair cut military-short like Michael’s, and green eyes that looked as if they’d seen too much. It was easier for me to connect with the softer-faced crew captain, Parker Drummond, who was a real-estate investor in Southern California. Finally, I met the fourth man in the group: Eric Levine, an engineer at Goddard Space Center, who had terrible-looking sunburn. He didn’t say more than a quick hello, because he was on his cell phone trying to help his wife, who was lost somewhere in Los Angeles trying to meet Parker’s wife, Karen, for the next flight to Honolulu.

The customs inspector arrived and Michael and Parker followed him as he went below deck looking for contraband. Kurt lounged on the side of the boat, giving interviews to sports reporters. When Michael emerged from