Lana'i of the Tiger (The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series) by JoAnn Bassett Read Free Book Online Page A

it look nice.”
    “It’s a greenhouse—not nice.
They want nice, tell them to get married in there.” He pointed to the main
house.
    Okay, I’d tried a simple
request. Now it was time to bring out the big guns.
    “Darryl wants them to get
married in the greenhouse. He said to tell you it needs to be all ready by next
Thursday. He’ll call me Thursday night to make sure everything’s done.”
    “Darryl say that?”
    “Yes. That’s what Darryl wants.”
    “Show me.”
    For a second, I thought he
wanted me to produce proof that the order had come directly from his boss,
Darryl Fontaine. But when he started walking toward the greenhouse I realized
he’d taken me at my word and now he wanted me to show him what he had to do.
    With the door closed, the
greenhouse felt like a steam bath. It was at least ten degrees warmer than the
outside air, and at least twice as humid. The primal odor of loam, fertilizer
and living things overwhelmed my sense of smell. I thought of that old cult movie, Little Shop of Horrors , where the giant plant yells, Feed me !
    We wound our way up and down the
aisles of the greenhouse. As we passed hundreds of potted orchids, Mr. Shu
poked a finger in every third or fourth pot as we went.  The place was shadowy
and dirty and I couldn’t for the life of me imagine why Tyler had insisted on
being married in there. I come from hippie stock, and my best friend back home
uses the same tea bag at least three times before tossing it out, so I’m no
stranger to tree huggers and Earth Day. But even to me, this dimly-lit fecund
jungle seemed more like the setting for a slasher movie than a wedding.
    The far end of the greenhouse
proved to be more promising, however. One corner was nearly empty of tables and
plants. Sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling with an almost
cathedral-like glow.
    “How about in here?” I said.
“It’s got good light. If we moved a few of the nicer tables into the corner,
draped them with tablecloths and added a dozen blooming orchids, it could make
a really nice setting.”
    Shu grunted in agreement.
    I dismissed any notion of
providing chairs for the guests. First, it would call attention to the uneven
dirt floor. Second, I’d heard enough of Deedee’s take on things to know she’d
most certainly want to spend the least amount of time necessary in the
greenhouse. A quick ‘do you take this woman, do you take this man,’ and then
she’d be leading the march back to the house for the champagne toast.
     Shu walked me to the greenhouse
door and held it open for me. “My name not Mr. Shu,” he said as I passed him on
my way out.
    “Pardon?” I said. “That’s the
name Ewa gave me for you—Ho Wing Shu.”
    “That’s correct. But not Mr.
Shu. I am Mr. Ho.”
    “Of course,” I said. I made a
short bow of contrition. “I should know that, Mr. Ho. I wasn’t thinking. In
your culture your family name comes first.”
    “Yes, that is correct. My family
is Ho.” He flashed me a smile that would have sent a dentist into apoplexy. More
than a few teeth were missing, and the ones that were left were yellowed and
ground down to mere stubs.
    “Very well, Mr. Ho. So, do you
think you can have the wedding area all ready by next Thursday?”
    “Yes. Ready by tomorrow if you
want.”
    “No, thank you. Next Thursday
will be soon enough.”
    I went into the main house,
anxious to start making a list of everything I’d need to put on a charming
mini-wedding in less than a week.
    ***
    Tyler didn’t return to the White
Orchid that Saturday night. I figured he and Deedee had stayed at her suite,
celebrating their newly-minted plan to get married on Lana’i. I imagined them
ordering a fancy room service dinner along with a perfectly-chilled bottle of
Dom Perignon.
    When Tyler finally returned to
the White Orchid late on Sunday morning he was in high spirits.
    “Hey, Penny,” he said as he
clattered through the front door. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call and