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He nods. "Two huge boa constrictors, two small snakes as ring bearers."
"Snakes…as ring bearers?" I can't help but ask. "How does that work exactly?"
"They're really skinny snakes." Dan wipes some sweat from his brow. "The couples will wear them like bracelets until time to exchange the rings."
"And the boas?" I ask.
"They will be draped around each couple at the end of the ceremony." He says this as if it's something that's done every day.
I think about this for a moment, mostly out of fear. He's right. It's weird. But who am I to say what people should do? It's their wedding. And quite frankly, we've allowed stranger things.
"Mary Lou doesn't like reptiles," I conclude without mentioning that I don't like snakes. I am, after all, a professional. I'll just have to muddle through it.
Dan nods. "Mary Lou doesn't like reptiles."
I shrug. "So give her the day off. Does she need to be here?"
"They kind of want her to hold the boas until the end."
I pray silently that he won't ask me to hold them, when I have an idea.
"I can ask Nick to help," I say, thinking out loud. "I'm sure he doesn't mind snakes." At least, I don't think he minds snakes. It hasn't come up in conversation, but he's a botanist and works outside—so it shouldn't be an issue.
Pastor Dan slowly shakes his head. "It's not even that. She says if we allow this, then we throw the door open to all kinds of 'freaky' requests."
I arch one eyebrow. "Last week we had a wedding for two Chihuahuas. And the week before that we had a Wiccan ceremony. With people dressed in black hooded capes and a chicken sacrifice."
Dan holds his finger up. "They didn't really sacrifice a chicken here."
I nod. "That's true. It was a rubber chicken filled with sausages. But still—she didn't find that odd?"
Dan shrugs. "She did, but this time is worse. I really think she'll quit, whether or not she'll have to be here."
I think about this for a moment. Mary Lou has always picked her battles for a reason. There's more to this than she's saying.
"Give her a choice. She can take the day off or quit."
"I don't think you've solved my problem," Dan says quietly.
I throw my arms up in the air out of frustration. "There is no other solution. Either she compromises or else." If I can get through it, Mary Lou can. And now, I'm determined to get through it.
"I will not compromise!" Mary Lou shrieks from the closet.
My cell buzzes in my purse. I look at it. Andy has sent an urgent text for me to call him immediately. I shove the phone back into my purse.
"I'll ask Nick to help. Text me the date," I say as I start back toward the door. I run out the door before Dan can answer.
In the car I call Andy, who asks me to come back to the house as fast as possible. He doesn't say why. As I drive, I think about Dan and Mary Lou. This is bizarre. No, not the reptile part. The part where Dan is worried about Mary Lou leaving. He's never been worried about that before. And Mary Lou—what's different from any other strange wedding we've had? One couple made leis out of dead spiders, and another couple was dressed as a pair of bananas. The weird was the norm at the Blue Hawaii Wedding Chapel. It was almost as if Mom were organizing these ceremonies.
I walk in the front door and find that all of the mannequin heads are gone. I relax a little. This is good at least. So what's the emergency?
"Andy? Mom?" I call as I walk into the kitchen and dump my purse and ukulele on the counter.
"Out here," Andy shouts from the lanai.
I join them. Then I see what the problem is.
Oh my.
The yard is filled with people with cameras, video equipment, and headphones. They are taking pictures of everything in my yard. A woman in a red pants suit sees me and comes running with her mic and cameraman.
"We are at the home of Nani Johnson, who found the murder victim." The blonde shoves the mic in my face. "What do you have to say about this?"
I look from her to the cameraman, who both look expectantly at me.
"This is private property…," I finally say. My voice is a little shaky, but I press on. "All of you need to leave before I call the police."
Andy nods his head toward the gazebo, and I see that my mother is there. She's wearing her green and pink muumuu and holding court with the reporters.
"Of course, I never even suspected that my daughter was capable of such a thing…" She shakes her head sadly. "But these creative types can be a little…you know…"
The crowd leans closer to Mom, as if she was a naked George Clooney handing down the Ten Commandments.
"Well, you know, unstable. Did I tell you that she roofied me?"
There's an audible gasp from the reporters. Really? They're buying this? I start fighting my way through the crowd.
"If she had just stuck to dismembering mannequins…" She turns dramatically and pulls a rope that lifts a huge tarp.
So that's where the heads went.
Everyone turns to see what looks like a pile of severed human heads, staring at us as if in shock. One person actually runs from the yard, screaming. I have to admit I'm impressed by the reveal. I had no idea Mom knew how to make a pulley system. I didn't even know we had a tarp.
"Mom! What are you doing?" I yank her out of the gazebo. Cameras and microphones are shoved into my face as I drag my mother away from the crowd.
"Oh, Nani." Mom laughs playfully. "There's no such thing as bad publicity! Notoriety can help your career!"
I'm not sure Mom understands how publicity works. Bad publicity due to minor scandals is great for movie stars. Bad publicity for something like murder isn't good for anyone. I hand her off to Andy and turn to the crowd, drawing on a strength I didn't know I possessed.
"You all have to leave. You're trespassing. Out. Now!" I point toward the opening in the bushes that heads to the street.
A few reporters glare at me as the rest of them pack up and go. I wait until the woman with the red suit is gone. As I turn back to the lanai, I see Mom talking to a scrawny little man with curly blond hair. Whatever she's saying, he's hanging on every word and writing it down in a notebook.
"Hey! You have to leave!" I shout as I storm toward them.
He holds his hand out. "Terry Flynn, Aloha Sun newspaper. It's the local newspaper of Aloha Lagoon."
I know what he's talking about because we get the Aloha Sun. "Out."
"I'm new. You probably don't know that." He gives me a greasy smile.
"I don't care if you write for the New York Times." I use what I think might be my most menacing face. "You are trespassing on my property!"
The little man cocks his head to one side, which makes him look like a cockatiel. "I'm sure you'd like to give the world your side of the story, Miss Johnson."
I shake my head. "Not until I'm cleared by the police to do so. And I wouldn't print anything my mother said here today. Or Detective Ray will be all over you." As if. "This is a police investigation."
Where is this pit bull Nani coming from? I like her!
Terry Flynn winces before collecting his things. He hands me a card. "Call me when you're ready to talk. I insist on getting the exclusive."
He walks to the hedges before disappearing. I turn to Andy. He points at Mom.
"I am so sorry, Nani!" my cousin says quickly. "She asked me to run to the store for a few things. When I got back, the yard was full of reporters."
I turn my glare on Mom, who is completely unfazed.
"I was giving a press conference." She sniffs. "That's what you do in these circumstances."
"No, Mom, you don't. That's what the police do in these situations. Not us. You aren't supposed to divulge anything from the investigation!" My fury is building. "And what was that about you didn't know I was capable of murder?"
My mother narrows her eyes—a look I haven't seen since I was twelve, when I accidentally knocked over a shelf full of her Precious Moments figur
ines.
"Don't you talk to me like that, Nani!" She draws herself up imperiously. "You may be an important psycho killer, but I'm your mother!" She walks into the house.
I slump down onto the sofa and bury my face in my hands. What a day.
"I really am sorry," Andy says as he sits next to me. "I had no idea she was getting me out of the way."
I look at him. "What did she have you buy?"
"Four steaks, some potatoes, and stuff to make salad."
No booze? That was usually at the top of the list she gives me.
"Has she been drinking?" I ask.
Andy shakes his head. "No. Not at all."
"Great. So she's not drunk…she's just crazy."
That's all I need.
CHAPTER SIX
I put the food away as Andy leaves. Neither of us really feels like having a barbecue. Besides, I need to figure out what is going on with Mom. She's locked herself in her bedroom with the TV blasting. Wait…when did she get a TV in her bedroom? I shake my head. This isn't the time to find out. Mom is safer in there, where I at least know where she is.
Making a sandwich, I sit at the breakfast bar and try to get my thoughts straight. I'm glad Andy, Ed, Binny, and Nick aren't here. I need some time alone. My whole world is imploding. Mom is acting more bizarre than normal. I wish it was just severed heads in the hallway. But it isn't. Now it's murder and press conferences.
And what about Dan and Mary Lou? She's never been this overly sensitive before. Is she playing at something, or has she finally snapped?
My cell buzzes. Nick is texting to see if I want to talk. I text him back that I'm heading to bed. I need to sleep so I can deal with whatever crazy tsunami Mom throws at me tomorrow. I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, and fall into bed.
"Nani?" my mother calls from the doorway.
I open my eyes and look at her. "What is it?"
Mom smiles. "I just wondered if you wanted pancakes or eggs for breakfast."
"Eggs," I say as I close my eyes in an attempt to squeeze a few more minutes of sleep in.
My eyes fly open. Mom never cooks. She hasn't even offered since we moved here. I jump out of bed and race to the kitchen to find Mom humming as she cracks eggs into a frying pan.
Either I'm dreaming, took LSD unwittingly for no apparent reason, or there's a wormhole in the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" I ask as gently as possible.
Mom looks at me as if I've lost my mind. "Making breakfast of course."
She starts humming again and cracks a few more eggs. She pours in a little milk and butter. Toast pops up in the toaster. I rub my eyes and open them again. She isn't wearing a muumuu. Mom is in a T-shirt and capri pants. Her hair isn't loose like it usually is. She has it tied up in a bun.
Who is this woman, and what is she doing in my house?
"Sit down, Nani," Mom says. "You look tired. Did you get enough sleep?"
I honestly don't know how to respond to this. This is my mother, Harriet, from about three years ago, not Haliaka. Where has she been all this time?
"I'm so sorry about last night, kiddo." Mom scrambles the eggs before sprinkling in shredded cheddar cheese. "I don't know what I was thinking! Just got carried away, I guess."
My eyes are on her hands as she cooks. "It's…it's okay, Mom. I got it all sorted out."
I really didn't, but I don't know how else to answer her. My mind flips back to the idea that she has a tumor. Maybe something in her brain broke loose, and she's normal now. Could that actually happen?
Mom makes me up a plate with the eggs and toast. She's put a glass of iced tea in front of me. I eat because I have no idea what else to do.
"I really need to pick up some groceries today," Mom muses. "I would've used the potatoes to make hash browns, but I thought we'd need them tonight for the steaks."
Mom hasn't gone shopping for food in…like…forever.
I pinch myself under the table, just to make sure I'm awake. Yup. Not dreaming. Maybe I should call Dr. Chang? And say what? I'm worried that my mother is normal?
"I've invited Andy and Ed to join us for dinner tonight. Is that okay?" Mom waits for me to nod. "I'm excited to catch up on all the gossip from back home."
Home. Since we've moved here, Mom has thought this was home. She'd even believed she was a native Hawaiian. Now we're back to being from Kansas. Weird. And it's weird that I think it's weird.
Mom joins me at the breakfast bar and makes small talk about her plans for the day. She talks about doing some weeding and is thinking of painting the living room. I nod because that's all I can do. She's never weeded a day since we moved here. Or even attempted any home improvements. In fact, I'd been thinking of painting the living room.
But this might be good. It would keep her busy, and I won't need to watch her. Maybe Nick's mom, Vera, would help her. Although, I'm not sure Vera has ever painted before. They are too wealthy not to hire painters. Still, it would make me feel better if I knew someone was with her.
Mom starts doing dishes, and I head to my room for a quick shower. I'm just throwing my hair into a ponytail when Nick calls. I close the door and sit on my bed.
"Oh my God," I groan. "You must be psychic. I was just thinking about calling you."
"What's wrong?" Nick asks.
I can hear the concern in his voice, and it makes my heart go all gooey.
I tell him everything, and like the best boyfriend in the world, he listens to every word.
"Whoa. I don't know if I've ever seen your mother like that."
I nod. "It's just like she was before we moved here. You'd like it. She's more motherly."
"I'll ask Mom if she'd like to help her paint. But to be honest, I didn't just call to check on you."
"You didn't?" I ask.
"Have you seen the paper today?" he breathes.
I'm up and running to the front door while still holding the cell. I grab the paper and run back to my room before Mom knows I'm out and about. Sitting back down on the bed, I stare at the headline.
Oh crap.
"You're looking at it?" Nick asks.
I forgot he was on the line. "Yes" is all I can say.
"Did that happen last night?"
I sigh as I look at the picture and headline. Mother Says Daughter Did It, reads the headline, followed by a photo of me—well, of the palm of my hand—and Mom in her muumuu in the background.
I fill Nick in on the events of last night. He sympathizes. He does not laugh. In my current state of mind, that would be a deal breaker.
"Detective Ray isn't going to be happy," I say.
"You should call him first," Nick suggests. "Beat him to the punch."
That's not a bad idea. I'd rather do this downtown. If he came here and saw Mom's 360 turnaround, he'd definitely be suspicious.
"Call me back after," Nick says before hanging up.
I dial the detective's number. He answers on the first ring.
"Miss Johnson," he says. "I was just going to call you."
Oh good. He was going to call. Not come by. That's good news.
"Sorry about this," I apologize and explain what I'd come home to. I'm honest. There really is no way to tell it otherwise.
"You do know you're not supposed to talk about the investigation with the press, right?"
I nod even though he can't see it. "Yes I do. Again, I'm so sorry."
"Is your mother at home?" he asks.
It's like throwing cold water on me. "Um…yes…why?"
"I should talk to her about this. Make sure she doesn't do it again."
"Oh, that's okay. We already talked about it. She said she's sorry." Not a lie. Mom actually did apologize.
There's a long silence on the other end. I can almost hear the gears turning in Detective Ray's head.
"I had a conversation with Sergeant Ed Hopper," Ray says. "The real Ed Hopper."
I let out a long sigh. That is good news. That means someone smart is working on this case.
>
"I'm glad he got in touch. Now you see that this really doesn't involve me…" I babble.
"I don't know about that," Ray says. "It seems even more suspicious that your cousin and this police officer should show up so soon after the murder of someone from your hometown, I might add."
Okay. So I'm not off the hook.
"It's possible you were all in on this together," the Detective says.
"No, it's not." I try to keep a lid on my anger. "I had nothing to do with it."
"So your mother is the killer," he says.
I take a deep breath. I am not going to be baited by the police today. Any other day, fine, but not today.
"I need to go," I say quickly. "I have an important doctor appointment."
Before hanging up, Detective Ray assures me that this isn't over. I try not to throw the phone against the wall. I need to talk to Ed. But first, I need to talk to Mom's doctor.
"I don't have the results back yet, Miss Johnson," Dr. Chang says as he leans back in his chair.
I pull my sweater tighter around me. He really needs to pull back on the AC. It must be forty-five degrees.
"Could you at least tell me what you think it might be?" I beg.
He looks at me for a moment. "Has something happened?"
I blink, trying to decide if I should tell him. But then I realize he's probably already read the Aloha Sun. So I spill it.
Dr. Chang leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I see."
I wait for him to add to that, but he doesn't.
"Can you be a bit more specific?"
"It might be a blockage of some type, but I'm not sure." He picks up a book from his desk and flips through it. After finding a page somewhere near the middle, he slams the book shut and sets it back on his desk.
"Sometimes a person goes through a complete personality change when they hit their head on something."
I shrug. "Maybe when she was drugged the other day…she could've fallen and hit her head then." I wasn't sure this was true. Mom had been lying on the wicker love seat when I'd found her. But I wouldn't notice a bruise on the back of her head.
I can't see the title of the book he just shut, but I lean forward a little and see one word—Mental Illness. Okay, so that's two words. It's possible I have mental illness.