“We’re on our own,” he told her. He put the car in gear and let it roll forward. The tires clunked into ruts in the lane, and he winced. “If we get stopped, we’ll say we’re visiting your friend. You think she’ll mind?”
She hesitated. “No, I’m sure that will be fine, though I’m not her favorite person.”
“I can’t imagine anyone not liking you.” He cut his glance toward her.
She flushed but didn’t meet his gaze. “We’ve just had some professional differences.” She nodded. “Let’s stop to see her first. She might have seen something.”
Most of the houses were rustic with scrubby yards where a few chickens scrabbled in the black, sandy dirt. Some were beautiful homes that wouldn’t be out of place in the nicest of neighborhoods. The owners of those houses had made an effort to soften the rocky landscape with flowers and shrubs.
“There’s the address.” Annie pointed to a neat bungalow that perched on a hillside.
A woman was sweeping the front steps. Blond hair framed her pudgy cheeks and nose. He guessed her to be in her midforties. She stopped at their approach. Her guarded expression didn’t lighten when her gaze went to Annie. “Is something wrong at the observatory?” she asked in a high, squeaky voice.
“No, everything is fine,” Annie assured her. “Did you hear my sister is missing?”
“Leilani?” The woman shrugged. “Hasn’t she done this before? I’m sure she’ll turn up.”
Mano studied her detached expression. She seemed almost hostile. “We found a heiau at the park. Do you know of anyone here in the estates who might have built it?”
Her strained smile faded. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not into religion. I can’t help you. Besides, you shouldn’t be here. Only residents and invited guests are allowed on the property.”
“We really need to talk to some people involved with the Ku cult,” Annie said. “Have you seen anyone new in the area?”
“No. Look, I have work to do. If you’re not here on business, I don’t have time to blather.” The woman went into her house.
Annie pressed her lips together when the door banged. “That was a bust.”
“Let’s take a stroll and see what we can find,” Mano said. He took her arm and started toward the next house.
Annie tugged out of his grasp. “Maybe we should wait until Sam can come with us. Someone might call the cops on us for trespassing.” Annie sounded worried. “It was a stupid idea anyway. These people out here may be strange, but that’s no reason to assume they are part of that cult.”
The whole atmosphere felt odd. Mano wanted to lift the rock that covered the secrets and see what slugs dwelt underneath these seemingly serene homes. “Did Leilani ever tell you about who she met at the meetings?”
Annie shook her head. “She was secretive. I wasn’t even aware until I saw that notebook about a month ago that it was a Ku cult.”
Mano wasn’t sure what to do. Someone had to know about this cult. “Let’s drive around a little. No one will know that we weren’t invited.” He escorted her to the car. Annie fastened her seat belt and ran her window down. Mano drove slowly along the gravel roads, crisscrossing the mountain in silence for an hour or so.
Annie nodded toward a particularly nice house. “You’d think they’d be afraid of another lava flow through here. The last one was in 1984.”
“It could happen where you live too.” He braked at a stop sign. “We’re not accomplishing anything. No one seems to be out this morning, which strikes me as odd. Saturday is prime time for yard work.”
Annie didn’t seem to be listening. “You know, my boss lives near here. Not right in Aloha Shores, but close enough she might know something. Let’s go to her house.”
Mano followed Annie’s directions. The house was within sight of Aloha Shores’s gates. He parked by the picket fence. “Wow, look at her garden.” The anemic soil had been replaced with rich, dark dirt, and lush plants filled the ten-foot square area in sharp contrast to the scrubby vegetation in the rest of the yard.
Annie went ahead of him to the door and knocked. Mano glanced around as they waited. He thought he heard slack-key guitar music drifting from the back of the house. Whoever was playing was a master. The chords had been tuned to a major seventh note, a “wahine” tuning that was Mano’s favorite.
When no one came to the door, he touched Annie on the elbow and jerked his head. “Around back.” She followed him. The difference between the front and back yards was jarring. Back here, the ground had been left in its native condition. Hard bits of lava-rock gravel crunched under his boots. He saw a group of people seated in a circle on yard chairs. The two men and one woman all had guitars, though only the woman was playing.
His attention focused on the woman. She was nearly as tiny as Annie. Though gray streaked her sleek black hair, her skin was smooth and unlined. He judged her to be about fifty. Dressed in shorts and a sleeveless top, her small hands plucked delicately at the guitar keys. “Who is that?” he whispered to Annie.