Unknown Victim by Kay Hadashi (classic books for 11 year olds .TXT) 📕

and styled straight. Even with the change, Gina knew it was the same girl.

“Nice to meet you, Holly.” Gina couldn’t help but grin. “You seem familiar. Have we met?”

“Not likely,” Holly said to Gina. She put her hand out to shake. Gina hesitated, wondering if she could catch a disease from shaking her hand.

“Maybe I saw you at the park, or in a restaurant?”

Holly’s glare turned deadly. “I don’t go to parks.”

“I suppose not.”

Gina figured that few Tanizawa family members knew Holly was a working girl, maybe not even Harry, even though she worked out of his own bar. While they talked around the truth, Mr. Tanizawa took a sip of the wine he’d been brought.

Gina smiled at him, and he smiled back. “How is it?”

“Exactly like I remember,” he said.

“Remember what?” Harry asked. “Dad, you don’t drink wine.”

The old man glared at his youngest son. “I’m old enough.”

Gina left Mr. Tanizawa to his hot dog and wine, and Harry to tell his elderly father about the bar. When Gina left the bedroom, Holly went right after her, grabbing her arm from behind.

“You say one word to anybody and you’re dead, understand?”

Gina yanked her arm away from the surprisingly strong grip. “Look, what you do to earn a living is your problem. But these people seem decent to me, so why don’t you just walk away before you embarrass yourself?”

Holly had two words for Gina, the same two she’d used the night before while they were in the parking lot at the park.

“Same to you, charm school dropout.”

Once she was back on the patio, Gina had a hot dog of her own, tried milling around to chat with strangers, had a soda, and said her goodbyes to the people with names she could remember.

“Well, I’m learning all kinds of secrets today,” Gina said, going back to the Datsun. “I wonder what’s next?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gina was up early the next morning, ready to work. After reading online about the battle Mr. Tanizawa had told her about, and thinking about the family he’d met in Italy, and hearing why he was in a hurry but the family was dragging their feet over the completion of the project, she had a renewed interest in getting back to the project.

What she couldn’t figure was why the family seemed so divided about the property. She could understand the interest in the money from the sale to a developer, but it was also a part of their heritage on the island. Much of the family had grown up in the house, and worked on the little farm in their spare time. It was a beautiful parcel of land, with trees all around the edges, and the stream along one side. The old house wasn’t anything to brag about, even after it was rebuilt. But it seemed like a shame to let it go simply for the money.

“About the only one without a connection to the old house is Harry,” she muttered while getting dressed. “I bet that little thing he hangs out with has more to do with wanting to sell the property than anything else.”

The agenda for that day was to continue digging the old fishpond. While half the crew worked on that, Gina worked with others to rebuild the pig fence that went around the property along the ridge. She’d seen a wild goat munching on the fruit that was being tossed into the giant compost pile that morning, and the time had come to keep some of the bigger critters out. When she saw Florinda and Clara return from a trip to the supermarket, she decided to join them in the house. Gina had a few questions for them, mostly for Clara.

Florinda went to the fence work party, leaving Gina alone in the kitchen with Clara.

“How’s the pregnancy coming?”

“Good enough. Two more months.”

Now came the delicate part. “Is your husband one of the work crew?”

“I think I told you last week that I’m not married,” Clara said.

“I remember now. You’re raising the baby on your own?”

“Florinda will help me.”

“That’s what sisters are for. You’re sisters, right?”

Clara nodded. She was busy swiping mayonnaise on slices of white bread. “I’d be lost without her.”

“I have a sister, too. I can’t think of having a life without her.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

“Yep, sure do.” Gina had taken up the task of wiping mustard on slices of bread, the other side of the sandwiches that were being made. “Do you know much about the Tanizawas?”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What kinds of farms they have?”

“They have more than farms. They have a grocery store, restaurant, a shop at a little mall, rental houses, some other places.”

“I’m more interested in hearing about the farms. Haven’t most of the crew working here worked for them elsewhere?”

Clara nodded. Now that the slices of bread had been coated, she went to work slicing cheese. “One place is a produce farm, another fruit. They grow flowers somewhere else. And a chicken farm. I’ve never been there.”

“There’s a place called Bunzo’s in Kapalama. I think the youngest son owns it.” Gina scratched her head, pretending to give something some thought. “What’s his name again?”

Clara’s hand slipped with the cheese cutter, slamming into the cutting block. “Harry.”

“Yes, that’s right. Are you familiar with that bar?”

Clara fired darts at Gina as deadly as what Holly had glared. “Why should I? Why should I care about some dumb old bar? Why do you keep asking me about that place?”

“Sorry. I guess it was a dumb question.” Gina needed to try again. “Do you know his girlfriend? Her name is Holly.”

Clara slammed the cheese slicer down on the cutting board. “I don’t know anybody, okay?”

Gina watched as Clara assembled sandwiches. Sliced Velveeta on white bread with mayonnaise and mustard. The same thing as the previous week. Gina tried to recall if Clara had even made a joke one day, about that being the only kind of sandwich she knew how to make. Then something else