Auntie Polly surprised Noelani with a hug when they left her at a small, seemingly deserted house on the outskirts of town.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Noelani asked. “I don’t see anyone around. We can stay for a while, if you’d like.”
“Chances are my nephew’s off fishing. He’ll be back before long. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. And, Noelani?” As Noelani started to turn away, Auntie Polly took her arm in that surprisingly firm grasp. “Don’t be angry with your grandmother. She meant well. She always meant well.”
“You knew my grandmother?” Noelani asked, but Auntie Polly didn’t answer. She just smiled, released Noelani’s arm, then walked up the crushed-shell path towards her nephew’s house without a backwards glance.
“How do you suppose Auntie Polly knew my grandmother?” Noelani asked Dillon as they headed for the plantation. More puzzling still, how had she known about the anger Noelani had been suppressing when Noelani herself hadn’t even been aware of the feelings on a conscious level?
Dillon, who appeared to be wrestling with his own internal demons, didn’t respond.
“Maybe she didn’t actually know Grandmother,” Noelani mused. “Maybe she just read about Grandmother’s death in the paper and, when I mentioned my name, Auntie Polly made the connection.” Though that didn’t explain the old woman’s parting comments.
They travelled another half-mile in silence. Then, just as they passed between the stone gateposts that marked the entrance to the plantation, Dillon spoke. “Did you notice what Auntie Polly had in that purple bag?”
“No,” Noelani said, a little puzzled since she didn’t see the relevance.
He pulled to a stop, shifted into park, then killed the engine. “Tears,” he said. “The bag was full of them. I got a good look when I handed it to her after she climbed into the back seat.”
“Pele’s tears?”
He nodded.
“So if she’s a collector, too, maybe she did know Grandmother.” Noelani faltered to a stop. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“Because you’re ignoring cause and effect. An obsidian teardrop shatters our windshield. Moments later, when we stop to assess the damage, who shows up but a woman with a whole bag full of obsidian teardrops? Cause and effect.”
“Are you suggesting Auntie Polly shattered our windshield? That she targeted us deliberately?”
“Makes sense.”
“But why? Just so we’d stop and give her a ride?”
He shrugged, then released his shoulder harness and climbed out of the Jeep. “I suppose we ought to finish searching the attic,” he said, not sounding overly enthusiastic.
“Go on up if you want,” she said. “I’d like a few minutes to think this through. If you need me, I’ll be in the gazebo.”
“There’s a gazebo? Where?”
“Hidden among the trees on the other side of the koi pond off the rear lanai.”
“Would you like some company?” he asked, taking her hand.
She shot him a look.
“Not that kind of company,” he said. “Unless, of course—” a wicked smile curved his mouth”—you’d like that kind of company.”
“When you look at me like that, all I see is the boy I fell in love with all those years ago.”
He smiled again, and her heart beat a little faster. “Do you remember when I told you about my dog getting run over?” he asked.
She nodded. “I wanted to make you feel better, so I brought you a pineapple shave ice.”
“My favourite,” he said.
“Only by the time I found you—”
“Uncle Lopaka had me cleaning out the loft.”