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“GOSH, PROFESSOR BARDA, this is awful nice of you to invite me to lunch.” Howdy unfolded his napkin and tucked one corner into the top of his aloha shirt. I set the pan of fried rice down on the table and spooned a generous portion onto his plate.
“Howdy, do you think Jandie’s husband had something to do with her disappearance? I’m not being nosy, I’d just like to know whether there’s a murderer living on my property. Surely you can understand.”
“I honestly don’t know, Professor Barda, this was all so sudden. I never expected it. Although now that I think back...no, I better not say anything. In this country you’re innocent until proven guilty.”
He tucked into his fried rice, and I sat down, a little disappointed.
“For a smart guy, that attempted getaway was a dumb stunt,” Pat said. “Ladd must’ve known he couldn’t just try to fly out without someone noticing. Why didn’t he go hide out in Kuewa, or stow away on a cargo ship?”
“So you think there might be someone else that might be involved, Pat?” I asked. “And Ladd is taking the fall for some reason? If someone else is involved, that means that even while Ladd’s in jail, I could be in danger. At least Donnie and the baby are off-island but when they come back...is someone knocking at the door?”
It was Kaycee Kabua, our landscaper.
“Eh Kaycee, howzit!” Emma came up behind me, leaned out, and gave her a fist bump.
“I just left my sprayer in your carport on Sunday, and I wanted to let you know I was getting it,” she said.
“Hello there,” said a voice behind me. “I’m Howdy.”
Kaycee wasn’t wearing her hoodie today. Her dark curls were loosely tied back, and her round face was prettily made-up. Howdy was so obviously impressed with her, he was practically wringing his hat (except he didn’t have a hat) and tracing circles on the ground with his toe.
After I made introductions, Howdy offered to accompany Kaycee out to the carport to help her carry anything that needed carrying. Kaycee accepted his assistance, even though she didn’t need it. She was easily capable of carrying the sprayer with one arm and Howdy with the other.
Howdy returned in an upbeat mood.
“Gee, what a terrific girl!” Howdy took his seat at the dining table and spooned a huge second helping of fried rice onto his plate.
“Right. Kaycee’s great. So, where were we? Jandie Brand is in danger or possibly dead, her homicidal husband’s in jail, we don’t know who else is involved, our rental is a murder house, and I might be next.”
Emma gave me a look.
“Am I wrong?”
“Aw don’t be so pessimistic,” Howdy said cheerfully “Know what they say, may as well look on the bright side. If things go bad, you can always cry later.”
You can always cry later?
I turned to Howdy.
“You,” I said. “Howdy, you were here with the Ladds. The day I dropped off the hurricane information sheet.”
Howdy didn’t deny it.
“Sure,” he said. “It’s possible. I’ve been over there a few times.”
“What were you trying to talk Jandie into?” Emma asked.
“Talk her into? Why, nothing that I recall.”
“Jandie said something about her landlady being a nosy crackpot,” I said.
“Well I sure don’t remember that particular conversation. But I can tell you where we had a little bit of, I don’t want to call it a disagreement, let’s say something that was under discussion. The County Courier expects its human-interest stories to have an uplifting tone. That’s what I was shooting for. I hate to say it, but the way the couple was with each other wasn’t at all what I was hoping for. I was ready to write about a wife whose husband supported her fame and success. And a husband whose life was entering a second act, with his wife’s support and a new generation of fans.”
“So how come it wasn’t what you were hoping?” Emma asked. “She hated him, I bet.”
“I’m not sure it’s right for me to go into too much detail,” Howdy said.
“You must have been there that day,” I said. “I heard two male voices in the house. Why would Jandie call me a crackpot?”
Howdy looked genuinely confused.
“I can honestly say, Professor Barda, that your name never came up.”
“See?” Emma said to me.
“So what do you talk to them about when you go over there?” I asked.
Pat stood up.
“Don’t mind me. I’m getting a cramp in my leg.”
“Gosh, now that I think about it, I realize we always end up talking about Mr. Ladd’s new book.”
“He did say something about working on his writing,” Emma said. “I thought that big trombenik was just saying it to sound important.”
“Is there going to be a new book of cartoons?” I asked. “I’d be interested in reading it.”
“Maybe it’s a murder mystery where a husband does away with his younger and more successful wife,” Emma suggested.
“No, it’s neither of those things.” Howdy pulled his satchel out from underneath his chair and produced a black, one-inch binder and a red-and-white flash drive. “I have a pre-publication copy right here. I didn’t find much in here that I could use, but Mr. Flanagan, I thought you might be interested.”
“Does Ladd know you have these?” Pat took the flash drive and binder from Howdy, handling them as gently as if they were baby birds.
“Oh sure, Mr. Flanagan, he’s the one who gave them to me. He wouldn’t mind you having them. He told me his publisher was having trouble lining up reviewers and if I knew anyone who was interested, I should share it with them.”
“Is it about his life with Jandie?” Emma asked eagerly.
“No, she barely makes an appearance,” Howdy said. “Missed opportunity, if you ask me. There’s a lot of people out there who would buy anything having to do with Jandie Brand.”
Howdy ran his hand through his hair.
“I know I shouldn’t say this, but here goes. I think if you’re married to someone, you should want them to succeed, and you should be proud of them when they do succeed. I think Mr. Ladd resented his wife’s success. He thought he was the one who deserved to be famous, not her. I think he even thought she was standing in his way, if you can believe it.”
Emma turned to me.
“You’re a fan of this putz?”
“I did like his cartoons,” I said. “Boy. That saying about never meeting your heroes is true, isn’t it? Everything is disappointing.”
“Oh, except this fried rice, Professor Barda,” Howdy said brightly. “You’re a great cook.”
“I’ll take credit for heating it up,” I said, “but it’s from Donnie’s Drive-Inn.”
“Can I keep this?” Pat asked.
“Oh, sure, Mr. Flanagan,” Howdy said. “Like I said, I already read it. I’m no literary critic, but I gotta tell you, it’s not something I’d put myself through again.”
As soon as Howdy left, Pat inserted the flash drive into Emma’s laptop. The three of us crowded together and read from the screen.
It was obvious why Howdy didn’t want the book back. Ladd’s memoir was an aggrieved, rambling screed, the main point of which seemed to be that the world seemed to be set up in a way that Edward Ladd found personally inconvenient. Ladd particularly seemed to resent the social pressure to treat as equals those he thought of as his inferiors. Which was just about everybody.
Pat stood up and walked over to the window.
“Don’t mind me, I just need a break.”
“Me too,” I said. “I’m going to get something to drink.”
“Bring the box,” Emma called after me.
“If you plan to keep reading, you two should get on the liver transplant list now,” Pat said. “From what I know of the guy, I don’t think it’s gonna get any better. Did you know he calls himself a certified master of persuasion?”
“I believe it,” Emma said. “He musta been pretty freakin’ persuasive to get Jandie to marry him. I’m thinking telekinetic.”
“Here we go.” I sat back down and placed the wine box on the table. “Have all you want. We can always buy more.”
“Someone’s at the door,” Pat said. “I’ll go get it.”
It was detective Brian Medeiros. Pat invited him in, and we all moved to the living room. Detective Medeiros wouldn’t have fit at the dining table.
“Is it true Edward Ladd was arrested last night?” I asked.
“That’s correct,” Medeiros replied. “I came by as a courtesy, to let you know he made bail. So don’t be alarmed when he comes around.”
“Did he tell you where Jandie is?” Emma asked.
Medeiros sighed.
“No.”
“Great,” I said.
“Look,” Medeiros said. “Don’t go out of your way to contact him or anything like that, but if you see anything suspicious, you can call me. You have my card. Professor Barda, are your friends gonna stay with you?”
“Yes. You are, right?”
Pat and Emma nodded.
I nodded.
“Good,” Medeiros said.