The House at Sandalwood Read Online Free PDF Page B

modern young lady at all. Anyway, my daughter Kekua is her friend, and she tells me that Mrs. Stephen plays jokes. Several times she has tried to go off to Honolulu alone. That could be dangerous. Mr. Stephen does not always know. He used to visit Honolulu once a week until the strike deadlock on the docks. Now, he must visit there several times in the week. But it would be dangerous for Mrs. Stephen to try to go alone. She cannot seem to understand how to run the motor in any of the boats. My daughter is a real veteran at running the motorboats across the bay but she cannot teach Mrs. Steve. Mr. Stephen also tries to teach her, and to see that she swims well, in case—but...”
    “No,” I agreed weakly, remembering times that seemed to me very long ago. “Deirdre liked the pools but never learned to swim very well. She wasn’t fond of learning. But then, she was always so ... dear, and we never wanted to force her.”
    Moku looked away, avoiding my eye. “Yes. I think everyone must love the little lady, even my Kekua, who once had a childish crush upon Mr. Steve. But that was before ... Well, can we expect you in a few minutes?”
    I told him I would be down immediately and then, when he left, I found myself locking the door. Recalling where I was, I turned the simple skeleton key to unlock it and put away my suitcases, still packed, in the closet. There was an adjoining bathroom, a barn-sized room obviously used as a bedroom or perhaps a sitting room in the old days. It had a modern porcelain toilet, but the bathtub was large enough to drown in, and stood high above the floor on gaudily carved legs. I loved it. I only wished I might plunge into a tub-full of hot water at once, to rest and relax. I was exceedingly tense. And I was worried.
     

 
    Three
     
    I took a couple of minutes to recover that calm Ito Nagata had imagined he saw in me at our afternoon meeting. Then I went down to meet Ilima Moku. I chose the front staircase, however, still hoping that I would see Deirdre somewhere, that some door would be open in this empty house and she would come dashing out in her impetuous way. The place seemed deserted. The wide front stairs had one landing at the turn and creaked madly. I announced my presence by footsteps that seemed even noisier because there were no others to echo them.
    I met Ilima in a remarkably pleasant kind of all-purpose family room at the back of the house opposite the big kitchen, the serving pantry, and the dining room across the hall. Because of the intense growth of foliage everywhere around the house, the light from two table lamps brought two pools of golden light to this “family sitting room.” I guessed that elsewhere on this or other islands in the state it would still be dusk, with the orange and Vermillion post-sunset light still giving a semblance of day to the world. Ilima and her husband were both there, obviously waiting only for my arrival, and I was startled to find a young woman, who was also present. She was still breathless and Moku explained that she, Kekua, had been running to “report” to them.
    Kekua was a lush, gorgeous girl with her mother’s great earth-brown eyes, which were unreadable, and a figure whose rich, dark curves would have delighted readers of Playboy magazine. She was clearly more modern than her mother and father, but the royal blood of Hawaii was evidently still present, even though she wore a miniskirt and what appeared to be a bikini top that was far from adequate to fill its purpose.
    “Kekua grew up with Stephen,” Ilima explained and I remembered the girl’s father saying that his daughter had a “crush” on Stephen Giles. But Kekua, flashing her father’s magnificent smile, corrected them now as we were introduced.
    “I didn’t exactly grow up with him. I happen to be ten years younger, but we all played together, Steve and the rest of us in the village. Matter of fact, once or twice Steve earned money babysitting for me. He wasn’t