Dying for a Daiquiri (23 page)

Very funny. “No, what are you doing here?”

“The trial was delayed a week, and after talking to Brian yesterday, I decided to take a few days off. I thought you’d be pleased to see me. But…” Tom shot a look in Steve’s direction. “Perhaps I’m interrupting something?”

“No, Steve and I were just discussing the murder. He’s been very helpful.”

Tom’s eyebrows furred together. “I could see how accommodating he was trying to be.”

Steve smirked and inched so close that his lips almost touched my ear lobe. “We’re not done here,” he whispered. Then he kissed my cheek and sauntered out of the lobby.

Tom still looked annoyed so I tucked my arm through his. “Now that you’re here, what’s on your agenda?” I asked.

He smiled the smile that made his crow’s feet crinkle and my lady parts tingle.

“Knowing you, there will be plenty on my agenda.” He leaned closer. Instead of the kiss I anticipated, he yawned in my face. “Sorry.” He looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight California time. It’s been a long week.”

“It’s been a long day for me, too.” I winced as he embraced me and drew me in tight.

You can’t get much past a homicide cop, even a weary jet-lagged detective. “How are you feeling? Brian and Liz told me about your accident when they picked me up from the airport.”

“It wasn’t an accident.” I bristled at his assumption that the person who rammed me had not done it on purpose. “That ATV driver intentionally tried to send me over the cliff.”

Tom ruffled my hair. “Hon, what are the odds someone knew you were taking the ATV tour, arranged to be on said tour, and managed to get you alone and knock you off the vehicle?”

Detectives are so darn logical. When he put it that way, I almost agreed with him. But every inch of my bruised body declared him to be wrong.

Although he did call me “hon.” That was one heck of a distraction.

Liz and Brian hurried toward us, both beaming like Cheshire cats on a catnip drip.

“How do you like our little surprise?” Liz wiggled her eyebrows. “Or, rather, our big surprise.”

I grinned back. “Tom is the perfect antidote for today’s incident.”

“We worried about you detecting on your own without us along to protect you,” Brian said. “So we lured Tom over here for a few days.”

My smile disappeared as I debated what they used for a lure. My sparkling personality? My penchant for getting into trouble?

Another dead body?

I glanced up at Tom and he quickly reassured me. “It didn’t take much to convince me. Plus I was about to lose some of my vacation time if I didn’t take it soon. After a good night’s rest, I’ll be ready for some sightseeing. And some relaxing beach time, of course.”

“It’s a beautiful island. And tomorrow there is something special on the agenda.”

He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Is it a quiet and romantic getaway? For just the two of us?”

I smiled. The two of us plus a few hundred mourners. What better place to discover the beauty of the island than Keiki’s memorial service?

Despite becoming involved in a murder investigation, this trip had provided a wonderful opportunity to learn more about the Hawaiian culture. Not only are the indigenous islanders the most gracious people in their attitude toward their
ohana
, their own family as well as any extended family, but they also bid farewell to their loved ones in a unique manner. This morning Keiki’s family members and close friends would ride outrigger canoes out into Kailua Bay for a short ceremony. Then they would disperse her ashes into the ocean and pray for her spirit to depart in peace.

Although Victor and Kiana had invited us to their house for the memorial reception, we weren’t close enough to their family to participate in the seaside ceremony. Not to mention that two of my own family members were suspects in the murder of their daughter.

Talk about awkward.

Since I had a murder to solve and anyone could watch the service from shore, I planned to be one of the onlookers.

Our group assembled in the lobby to bid tearful goodbyes as the newlyweds headed to the airport. Brian almost looked relieved as the bellman carted off their luggage. Preparing for his murder trial the following week would probably seem like a vacation compared to spending his honeymoon with my family.

Dave and Regan each planned on stopping by Victor and Kiana’s house later in the day, along with the owners and staff of Koffee Land, who would take turns paying their respects to the family.

Tom and I wound up being the only ones watching the seaside ceremony from the shore. The sight of the six outrigger canoes arranged in a semi-circle beyond the reef was more moving than I’d anticipated. Even when someone is not personally acquainted with the deceased, there is nothing like the poignancy of a memorial service to make you reflect on your own life. Your achievements and what you hope to accomplish in the future. At this point in my life, my accomplishments comprised a very short list consisting of my two wonderful children. By the time I depart this earth, I hope that list will have grown exponentially.

My eyes teared up, and I swiped my fist at my cheek. Without a word, Tom reached into the pocket of his khaki slacks, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to me. I dabbed my eyes then gave it back to him. He eyed the mascara-dotted cloth and stuck it back in his pocket.

“You okay?” he asked, with a sensitivity I found surprising.

“Yeah.” Another sob almost erupted, so I took a couple of deep breaths before I replied. “This has been an emotional week. It’s not often two family members are arrested for murder. And even if the police discover the real killer, I’m fairly certain Dave and Regan are headed for divorce court.”

Tom put his arm around my shoulder. “Once the police wrap up the case, your brother and his wife may be able to save their marriage. Sometimes it just takes time to heal those rifts.”

I nibbled on my lip, curious if Tom would discuss his previous marriage. “You sound like an expert on that subject.”

“Even the happiest of couples have issues. Communication or lack thereof is the biggest source of marital breakups.” Now it was Tom’s turn to be pensive. My question probably brought back a ton of memories of his late wife who’d passed away a few years earlier.

I mentally kicked myself for bringing up this tragic subject, but Tom leaned in and kissed me on my surprised, but very receptive lips.

“Let’s make sure we keep those communication channels open at all times, okay?” His eyes were soft, his tone tender.

“Always. I’ll never keep anything from you.”

“Good. So I don’t have to worry about you getting into trouble trying to find a killer without me, right?”

Nope. With my detective by my side to protect me, I couldn’t possibly get into trouble.

Could I?

* * *

After the seaside burial, I drove the rental car through downtown Kailua pointing out various places of interest such as Hulihee Palace, the former vacation home to Hawaiian royalty. I decided to continue on Alii Drive rather than head immediately for the highway. I pulled into the lot at Daiquiri Dave’s and turned off the ignition.

“What are we doing here?” Tom asked.

“I thought if we stood in the exact spot where Keiki was murdered, you might get a better feel for the crime scene,” I said. “The Hawaii police would be lucky to get your input.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” He eased his six-foot-three inches out of the sedan. “I doubt the local officials want my feedback, but let’s take a look.”

The door to the restaurant was locked which I’d already anticipated so I led Tom around the left side of the building to the public viewing area.

A middle-aged woman sat on the lone concrete bench overlooking the ocean. A shrill howl echoed from below. As we approached, the woman peeked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Terrific view isn’t it?”

I nodded and looked around for her pet. “I could have sworn I heard a dog.”

She laughed. “That’s Ruckus, my beagle. Aptly named, I might add. He’s easily bored so I let him loose.”

I peered over the edge and saw Ruckus barking his pea-sized vocal cords off. “Looks like he found some buried treasure.”

“Unfortunately Ruckus isn’t the most discerning treasure hunter around.” She leaned over the wall and whistled. “C’mon, boy, back here.”

Her beagle might be a little ADHD, but he knew to obey his mistress. His owner, Helen Morris, introduced herself as a retired history teacher who’d moved to the island six months earlier. In less than thirty seconds, Ruckus was running in circles around us. He dropped his clump of seaweed booty on the ground then sat quietly with his tail swishing, waiting for applause from his mutual admiration society.

A small item glinted among the seaweed. I leaned over to pick it up but met with resistance from Ruckus. Since I preferred to keep all my digits intact, I withdrew my hand. Helen had better luck. She tossed him a liver treat and reached for it herself.

I peeked over her shoulder as she plucked the item, iridescent in the bright morning sun, from its seaweed nest.

“It’s an earring. Pretty stuff,” I said.

“It’s abalone which is very popular in Hawaii. There are all types of variations, but most have a greenish or blue hue.” She squinted at the earring. “There’s something caught on the hook. I can’t tell what it is without my glasses.”

I put my hand out to grab it, but my professional cop beat me to it. He scrutinized the earring then looked up. When his eyes met mine, I felt as chilled as if a bucket of ice just dumped on me.

“It may look like leather,” he said, “but I think it could be a piece of skin.”

Helen and I leaned forward and gawked at the brilliant earring with the infinitesimal piece of skin attached to the wire.

“You don’t suppose––that earring belonged to Keiki?” I asked.

Tom shrugged. “It could belong to anyone who’s been in this area or even dined at the restaurant. Although it’s odd the skin is still attached.”

“Could Keiki have pulled it off her killer?”

“Killer?” Helen drew back and yelled for Ruckus to return. I quickly explained about Keiki’s death the previous weekend, although I skipped a few details––such as my family members’ arrests.

Tom looked frustrated as he stared at the shiny item in his hand. “Too bad I don’t have any evidence bags with me.”

I reached into my purse and grabbed a small clear baggie. I never leave home without them. Convenient for buffet leftovers as well as evidence. I dropped the earring into the bag and placed it in a side pocket of my purse.

Helen seemed as anxious to leave our company as Ruckus was to explore new territory. We said goodbye and got into our car.

“You need to turn that earring over to the police,” Tom said. “It could contain the DNA of the victim, or the killer.”

“Of course. I’ll do it right after the memorial service.”

Tom was right. The earring might be an important clue. Or it might not. For all we knew the item could have been buried for days or weeks before the murder. But before I turned it over, I would check with my sister-in-law to see if the earring belonged to her.

It’s not like I was withholding evidence from the police. I was merely storing it for them.

All I had to do now was pray that the owner of said evidence wasn’t married to my brother.

Tom and I enjoyed the leisurely ride to Victor and Kiana’s house. I drove so he could enjoy the lush south Kona scenery.

“I assume today’s visit isn’t just a sympathy call,” Tom said. “Will we be searching for additional clues amid all the condolences?”

“Maybe.” I kept my eyes glued to the curvy road. “My plan is to keep my eyes, ears, and lips open.”

“Lips?”

I nodded and smacked my lips. “They have terrific pupu’s here.”

Tom laughed and we spent the rest of the drive chatting about our “case.” In the past, Tom and I had been on opposite sides of a murder investigation, and I’d been forced to morph into Nancy Drew to keep myself, and later my boss out of prison. Now I felt like we were part of a detecting duo. Nick and Nora to the rescue.

All we needed was a Schnauzer, matching fedoras and a very large bottle of gin.

We drove past the Yakamuras’ house. Cars lined the street in all directions, including the rental my mother and Stan drove. We ended up parking a few blocks away. As we walked up the long gravel driveway, the lilting sound of a Hawaiian song floated toward us. Since the music seemed to come from the backyard, we headed that way. We arrived in time to see Walea and three other dancers pay tribute to Keiki.

My breath caught as I watched the dancers’ eloquent movements to the words of a plaintive melody. Multiple spigots opened, and tears rained down my cheeks again. At the rate my tears were erupting, Tom needed a handkerchief as big as a bedspread. The thought of that beautiful and talented young woman’s life cut short was heartbreaking. Until this moment, I’d been determined to prove the innocence of my family members. Now I was even more committed to finding the murderer for Keiki’s sake.

The musicians put down their instruments, and the dancers dispersed to visit with friends and family members. Eighty plus people milled about the backyard, but I had yet to see any of my own family wandering about. A man standing in front of me taking photos with his phone completely blocked my view. I accidentally bumped into him and his phone crashed to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, let me get that.” I bent over, but he was faster and grabbed it first. We barely missed a forehead collision. I wobbled on my wedge sandals, on the verge of falling, but Tom grabbed my hand and kept me upright.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized to the man’s back.

He turned around and surprised both of us. “Ms. McKay, what an odd coincidence. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Detective Lee’s eyes narrowed when he met Tom’s cool gaze. Lee must have recognized a kindred spirit because he put his hand out and introduced himself.