Chapter Thirty-Nine Sunday afternoon found the Triple Threat gals meandering along various streets near Walker and Wahiawa Fresh Water State Park. The objective: check for imus on public terrain and purchasable homes. Coco wouldn’t be buried on private property or within immediate view of a street or sidewalk. The hope was that we didn’t appear overly conspicuous, despite me carrying a serrated folding camping shovel in a plastic tote bag, Rey pulling a nylon hockey bag on wheels filled with locating-body and digging-for-said-body tools, and Linda hugging a large knapsack with drinks and snacks. This was seriously doubtful, however, given our keen and furtive demeanor.
So far, we’d surveyed five imus, or replicas thereof: one behind a ramshackle snack shop, two in the rear of for-sale
