noticed before. He threw open the double doors on the left and blundered into a poker game in progress. “Oh! Wrong room. I do beg pardon.”
Raif tongued a swizzle stick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Pull up a chair, Avery. You, too, Dinah. The more the merrier and the richer the pot.”
“Raif Reid? Is that you?” Wilhite seemed discomfited out of all proportion.
“None other.”
“Raif. Well, well. Raif. Good to see you. Been a while. Lyssa good?”
“She’s good,” said Raif with what seemed to be his signature semi-sneer. He sat slouched in front of a tall stack of blue chips and a Starbucks’ Vente.
“Well, good for Lyssa,” said Wilhite. “Excellent.”
The two men Raif was playing with were older-middle-aged. One had a heavy five-o’clock shadow, dark circles under his eyes, and a beer gut. One of his hands fondled a short stack of red chips and he didn’t appear to appreciate the intrusion. The other player, a fleshy-faced man with a deeply furrowed brow, didn’t either.
“Afraid we can’t stay and play,” said Wilhite, backing out the door. “See you and Lyssa at the shindig tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” said Raif.
“Excellent.” Wilhite closed the door and tried the one across the hall. “Here we go. This has to be it.” He opened the door and gestured Dinah inside.
The last people to meet in this room must have been Eskimos. The air conditioning had been ramped up to near-freezing. Wilhite pulled out a chair for her at the end of a long, teakwood table and sat down next to her. “Astonishing, eh? Never would’ve imagined it.”
“Raif’s gambling?”
“No, no. Boy’s a pistol. More moxie than’s good for him. Drives Xan up the wall, but that’s youth for you. No, I meant Xan getting married. I’ve known him for thirty-five years and, after being a widower and blade about town, it’s hard to believe he’s making it legal again. Not that Claude Ann isn’t the cream. Beautiful girl. Young for him, but then I wouldn’t have expected Xander to be dazzled by a woman his own age. Not that older women can’t be alluring, you understand. What do they call themselves now? Cougars? But I’ve never seen Xan with a cougar. Always has a young one on his arm.”
Dinah felt as if she’d hit the gossip motherlode. Given the opportunity, her news about Eleanor could wait a few minutes. “Where did you and Xander meet?”
“Oh, at the University. We were on the tennis team. Both of us from back East, both married local girls and decided to stay. We’ve played a lot of tennis over the years.”
“You must have known Xander’s first wife. What was she like?”
“Oh, my God. Spectacular woman. Knew it, of course, but that’s neither here nor there. Never met a man who didn’t fall head over heels for sweet Leilani, myself, included. When Xan married her, his ego shot into the stratosphere and the rest of us island swains moped about like lovesick adolescents.” He slapped his knobby knees and chuckled. “Louis Sykes was another one. Besotted. Married, though, like me. Nothing to do but admire from afar. Like her, Louis died young. Tragic. His son Steve’s the S in SAX Associates. He’s our legal eagle.”
Dinah said, “Leilani’s suicide must have come as an awful blow to Xander. Had she been ill or depressed?”
“Closed subject. Never talks about it. Too painful. Some of us speculated she might have been despondent because Xander didn’t move the family to the mainland. That’s what she wanted. Always preferred the company of haoles, didn’t want anything to do with her own people. Of course, it was her Hawaiianness that Xan and the rest of us found so exotic and alluring. My wife was never jealous. Not a jealous bone in her body, my Kay. Saw Lani as a marvel of nature, like the o’o bird. Kay, I said, you were damn near clairvoyant when you said that thing about the o’o, being as how the species died out. Hunted to extinction for
Raif tongued a swizzle stick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Pull up a chair, Avery. You, too, Dinah. The more the merrier and the richer the pot.”
“Raif Reid? Is that you?” Wilhite seemed discomfited out of all proportion.
“None other.”
“Raif. Well, well. Raif. Good to see you. Been a while. Lyssa good?”
“She’s good,” said Raif with what seemed to be his signature semi-sneer. He sat slouched in front of a tall stack of blue chips and a Starbucks’ Vente.
“Well, good for Lyssa,” said Wilhite. “Excellent.”
The two men Raif was playing with were older-middle-aged. One had a heavy five-o’clock shadow, dark circles under his eyes, and a beer gut. One of his hands fondled a short stack of red chips and he didn’t appear to appreciate the intrusion. The other player, a fleshy-faced man with a deeply furrowed brow, didn’t either.
“Afraid we can’t stay and play,” said Wilhite, backing out the door. “See you and Lyssa at the shindig tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” said Raif.
“Excellent.” Wilhite closed the door and tried the one across the hall. “Here we go. This has to be it.” He opened the door and gestured Dinah inside.
The last people to meet in this room must have been Eskimos. The air conditioning had been ramped up to near-freezing. Wilhite pulled out a chair for her at the end of a long, teakwood table and sat down next to her. “Astonishing, eh? Never would’ve imagined it.”
“Raif’s gambling?”
“No, no. Boy’s a pistol. More moxie than’s good for him. Drives Xan up the wall, but that’s youth for you. No, I meant Xan getting married. I’ve known him for thirty-five years and, after being a widower and blade about town, it’s hard to believe he’s making it legal again. Not that Claude Ann isn’t the cream. Beautiful girl. Young for him, but then I wouldn’t have expected Xander to be dazzled by a woman his own age. Not that older women can’t be alluring, you understand. What do they call themselves now? Cougars? But I’ve never seen Xan with a cougar. Always has a young one on his arm.”
Dinah felt as if she’d hit the gossip motherlode. Given the opportunity, her news about Eleanor could wait a few minutes. “Where did you and Xander meet?”
“Oh, at the University. We were on the tennis team. Both of us from back East, both married local girls and decided to stay. We’ve played a lot of tennis over the years.”
“You must have known Xander’s first wife. What was she like?”
“Oh, my God. Spectacular woman. Knew it, of course, but that’s neither here nor there. Never met a man who didn’t fall head over heels for sweet Leilani, myself, included. When Xan married her, his ego shot into the stratosphere and the rest of us island swains moped about like lovesick adolescents.” He slapped his knobby knees and chuckled. “Louis Sykes was another one. Besotted. Married, though, like me. Nothing to do but admire from afar. Like her, Louis died young. Tragic. His son Steve’s the S in SAX Associates. He’s our legal eagle.”
Dinah said, “Leilani’s suicide must have come as an awful blow to Xander. Had she been ill or depressed?”
“Closed subject. Never talks about it. Too painful. Some of us speculated she might have been despondent because Xander didn’t move the family to the mainland. That’s what she wanted. Always preferred the company of haoles, didn’t want anything to do with her own people. Of course, it was her Hawaiianness that Xan and the rest of us found so exotic and alluring. My wife was never jealous. Not a jealous bone in her body, my Kay. Saw Lani as a marvel of nature, like the o’o bird. Kay, I said, you were damn near clairvoyant when you said that thing about the o’o, being as how the species died out. Hunted to extinction for
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