Heavenly Honeymoon (Zoe Donovan Mysteries Book 15)

Heavenly Honeymoon

by

Kathi Daley

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Katherine Daley

Version 1.0

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

This book is dedicated to all my fans who love Zoe and Zak as much as I do.

I also want to thank the very talented Jessica Fischer for the cover art.

I so appreciate Bruce Curran, who is always ready and willing to answer my cyber questions.

Special thanks to Joanne Kocourek, Joyce Aiken, Pamela Curran, Vivian Shane, and Janel Flynn for their contribution of recipes for
Heavenly Honeymoon
.

And, of course, thanks to the readers and bloggers in my life who make doing what I do possible, especially everyone who hangs out and likes and share my posts at Kathi Daley Books Group Page.

I want to thank Randy Ladenheim-Gil for the editing.

And last but not least, I want to thank my sister Christy who is always willing to pitch in with an opinion when I need one, and a special thank you to my husband Ken, who allows me the time I need to write but taking care of everything else.

Come for the murder, stay for the romance.

Buy them on Amazon today
.

Zoe Donovan Cozy Mystery:

Halloween Hijinks

The Trouble With Turkeys

Christmas Crazy

Cupid’s Curse

Big Bunny Bump-off

Beach Blanket Barbie

Maui Madness

Derby Divas

Haunted Hamlet

Turkeys, Tuxes, and Tabbies

Christmas Cozy

Alaskan Alliance

Matrimony Meltdown

Soul Surrender

Heavenly Honeymoon

Hopscotch Homicide –
August 2015

Ghostly Graveyard –
October 2015

Santa Sleuth –
December 2015

Paradise Lake Cozy Mystery:

Pumpkins in Paradise

Snowmen in Paradise

Bikinis in Paradise

Christmas in Paradise

Puppies in Paradise

Halloween in Paradise –
August 2015

Whales and Tails Cozy Mystery:

Romeow and Juliet

The Mad Catter

Grimm’s Furry Tail

Much Ado About Felines –
July 2015

Legend of Tabby Hollow –
September 2015

Cat of Christmas Past –
November 2015

Seacliff High Mystery:

The Secret

The Curse

The Relic –
July 2015

The Conspiracy –
October 2015

Road to Christmas Romance:

Road to Christmas Past

I glared at the rusty bucket that was relegated to the far corner of the dark, windowless room. An expressionless man had brought it to me after I’d informed my captor that there were certain urges that needed tending to. I’m not a prude and am normally more than willing to adapt to any situation, but even I have my limits. As I paced back and forth across the filthy stone floor of the small room, I focused all my energy on chanting the mantra that currently served as the only thing standing between my self-respect and my complete and total degradation.

“I do not have to pee, I do not have to pee, I do not have to pee.”

Who was I kidding? I totally had to pee.

I don’t know what I expected from my honeymoon. Moonlight walks on the beach, romantic dinners by candlelight, time with the people who meant the most to me. What I didn’t expect was to spend my second night on Heavenly Island in a bug-infested jail cell dressed in nothing more than a thin red minidress. Maybe I should have been prepared for the fact that Zoe Donovan, who I guess should now be Zoe Donovan-Zimmerman, would end up knee deep in the middle of the first murder the island had seen in a decade.

Talk about the perfect end to the past forty-eight perfectly horrid hours. Okay, maybe they weren’t
all
horrid. There were some really good moments mixed in with some not so good ones. But as far as honeymoons go, I’d had my share of problems. I guess if I was being perfectly honest I knew deep in my gut that something like this was coming.

“The interrogator will see you now,” a short man with a rotund belly, small bulging eyes, and chubby cheeks announced.

Interrogator? That didn’t sound good at all.

“Where exactly am I?” I asked the man as I followed him down the dark, narrow hallway to a dark, narrow room.

“You are in jail. I figured you knew.”

“I know I’m in jail, but where exactly am I on the island? Am I still on the resort?”

“No, ma’am.” The man indicated that I should take a seat at the rickety table that had been leveled with a matchbook. “You are in Hades.”

“Hades?” Well, I guess that explained the décor. “And where exactly is Hades?”

The man’s face clearly indicated his irritation at my questions, but he answered anyway. “The island is made up of two parts. The western half of the island is populated by rich and snooty people such as yourself who have come to the Heavenly Island Resort to be pampered and waited on by those of us who live on the eastern half of the island.”

“I see. I guess it makes sense that the people who work at the resort must live somewhere outside the resort. But why Hades?”

The man just raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, I guess it must suck to spend your whole day pampering us rich and snooty types and then return home every night to less-than-ideal living conditions. Do you work for Jensen Ewing?” I mentioned the name of the resort owner.

The man spat on the ground. “I would never work for that dictator. The settlement of Hades exists independently of the resort. I work for the people I serve.”

“I see. Well, thank you.” I paused. “I’m sorry; what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t say. People call me Toad.”

Toad? I suppose he did sort of look like a toad, with his compact yet portly frame and bulging eyes.

“Thank you, Toad,” I replied. “I don’t suppose I can use the bathroom before we get started?”

The man just grunted as he walked out of the door, leaving me alone in the room, which smelled of smoke, urine, and despair. My greatest hope for the moment was that I wouldn’t be left sitting in the room long enough to add to the stench.

I crossed my legs and prayed for a superhuman level of control over my bladder. I never should have had that last glass of wine. If only I’d known that, in spite of everything that had happened, it would be those seemingly harmless six ounces that would send me toward a complete and total breakdown.

I wished I could blame my current situation on a faulty Zodar system, but honestly, my instinct has been as accurate as ever. It was my interpretation of the wave of trepidation I felt as I watched the last of our wedding guests drive away that let me down. At the time I’d attributed my prophetic chills to the fact that Levi Denton and Ellie Davis, my very best friends in the world, had decided not to come on the trip as planned. I was disappointed by the news but not really surprised. I knew Levi wanted to make a trip to the university where he’d been offered a job on the coaching staff of the football team, and Ellie had decided to go with him.

I guess I can understand how the real-life decisions facing the couple would take precedence over a trip to a tropical island where, according to the brochure, all your fantasies are guaranteed to come true. The island was beautiful, but so far it had been nightmares rather than fantasies that were coming to pass.

I uncrossed and then recrossed my legs as I looked around the room. At this point a rusty bucket would look pretty darn good. Unfortunately, the room was devoid of even the crudest of conveniences. Luckily, I only had to wait for a few minutes for a tall man with a chiseled chin and dark slate eyes to join me. He wasn’t quite as scary-looking as the man who had shown me to the room, but he was a lot more intimidating, with his dark stare and serious expression.

I know in this situation I should play it cool and answer only the questions directed at me. I could hear Zak’s voice in my head cautioning me to wait for the man who had joined me to set the pace. Of course anyone who knows me knows I rarely play it cool and controlled.

“Please. I know how it looks, but you have to believe me. I didn’t kill Ricardo Jimenez,” I blurted out before the man even sat down. “Yes, I argued with him just an hour before he was murdered, and yes, I even threatened to do him bodily harm, but I didn’t kill him, despite the fact that I had both motive and opportunity.”

I swear the man’s expression didn’t change even a tiny bit throughout my outburst. He sat down on a hard metal chair across from me as if I had never spoken. He looked me up and down, but he didn’t say anything.

“Look, I know how it looks. I really do,” I rambled on. “I know I’m rambling and I know I keep repeating myself, but you have to believe I would never kill anyone. I’m a nice person. Really. Ask around. Please, you have to let me out of here.”

The man tapped his left index finger on the table in a steady rhythm that seemed to indicate his boredom, but still he didn’t respond. I was beginning to suspect his preferred interrogation method was
torture them with silence
. It was working.

“I know. I just need to calm down and let you ask the questions. Right?”

The man narrowed his gaze but still didn’t speak.

“I don’t suppose I can use a bathroom before we begin?” I asked hopefully.

“No, I don’t suppose you can.”

“But I’m really not sure I can hold it,” I pleaded.

The man shrugged. “We can hose down the floor if we have to.”

Great.

“You seem healthy and physically fit,” the man stated.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything, but yes, I run almost every day.”

“So you were physically capable of plunging a knife into the victim’s back.”

“Well, yes, I suppose. But he was tall and I’m short. I would have had to stand on a stool to get the leverage I would have needed to plunge the knife into him at the angle at which the knife was plunged, so really I couldn’t have killed him.”

The man glared at me, but he seemed to be considering my statement.

“If you didn’t kill this man why don’t you tell me what
did
happen,” the man suggested.

I let out a long breath. At least he was going to give me the opportunity to tell my side of the story before he tossed me in a cell, locked the door, and threw away the key.

“I went up onto the deck after dinner,” I began.

“Start at the beginning,” the man interrupted.

“From my arrival on the boat?”

“From your arrival on the island.”

Oh,
that
beginning. I could see this was going to be a long conversation.

“Are you sure we can’t take a short break so I can use the bathroom?”

“I’m sure.”

Wonderful.

“My husband, Zak Zimmerman, and I arrived on Heavenly Island yesterday morning with two children who are visiting us for the summer.”

“You brought children on your honeymoon?” he interrupted.

“Yes. Scooter Sherwood and his friend, Alex Bremmerton. We don’t get to see them all that often, and when Mr. Ewing offered to let us use the big guesthouse, we decided to have a family vacation of sorts, even though we aren’t a traditional sort of family.
We arrived at the resort and were shown to the house, we settled in, and then we headed to the beach, where I met Ricardo.”

“Ricardo Jimenez, the victim?” the interrogator specified.

“Yes, the victim. We’re never going to get through this if you keep interrupting.”

The man just smiled.

“Anyway, Ricardo came over to the lounge chair I was sitting on and asked me if I wanted to go to the bar for a drink. I explained that I was married and that my husband was swimming with the children but would be back shortly. The man didn’t want to take no for an answer and sat down on the lounger Zak had been using. It was then that my dog Charlie, who had been napping in the shade under my chair, began barking at him. The man kicked sand at Charlie and Charlie snapped at him.”

“He bit him?”

“No,” I clarified, “he didn’t bite him; he just snapped at him. Charlie is very protective of me, and it was obvious he didn’t like the man.”

“And where is this Charlie now?”

“At the house. I left him with Scooter, Alex, and Oria, the babysitter the resort provided, while Zak and I went on the dinner cruise.”

“What happened after Charlie snapped at Mr. Jimenez?” the interrogator asked.

“The man kicked Charlie in the ribs and then walked away.”

The interrogator frowned. “Is this Charlie okay?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. Charlie was pretty shaken up, but the island veterinarian assured me that he wasn’t in any way injured. I guess Charlie moved at the last minute so the man just grazed him.”

The interrogator leaned back in his chair and looked me up and down. I had to admit that if my urge to pee wasn’t making me squirm his intense stare would have. In spite of my resolve to wait, I couldn’t take it one more minute. I jumped up from my chair and frantically looked around the room. “Please, I
really
need to visit the ladies’ room.”

The man didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry I snubbed my nose at the bucket.” I tried for my best I’m-sorry face. “Please. I’ll only be a minute.”

The man shrugged. “Very well. But leave the door open.”

Thank God.

I wanted to argue about the open door, but I figured an open door was better than no door at all. The man led me down the hall to a small room that smelled like . . . well, let’s not describe what it smelled like. Let’s just say the aroma created by the turkey farm I worked on a couple of years ago didn’t compare to the stench of the filthy room.

I looked for a toilet seat cover. There was none. I looked for toilet paper. Likewise absent. There was an old newspaper sitting on the edge of the filthy sink. I held my breath and did the best I could with what I had at my disposal. I knew the interrogator was waiting just outside the open door, but at least he stood with his back to me.

“Thank you.” I smiled at the man who had taken mercy on me after I exited the room.

He nodded and ushered me back to the interrogation room.

“So after the incident on the beach,” the man jumped right back in once we were settled, “when was the next time you saw Mr. Jimenez?”

I cringed. I hated to answer the question. “Later that night. Zak, the kids, and I decided to go to dinner at the oceanfront steak house in the main part of the resort. We were seated at a table on the lanai overlooking the beach, where I saw the man who had kicked Charlie talking to a dark-skinned man dressed in black. They appeared to be having a fairly intense conversation.”

“Could you hear what they were saying?”

“No, they were too far away. After they finished speaking, the man who assaulted my dog headed toward the walkway that runs from the restaurant to the condos that line the beach. I excused myself on the pretext of using the ladies’ room and went to head him off. I told him that if he got within twenty feet of my dog again I would make him wish he had never been born. He laughed and threatened to make a kabob out of Charlie, so I kicked him.”

“Kicked him where?”

“You know.” I blushed. “In the private parts.”

The interrogator laughed. “And then?”

“And then I returned to the table and had a wonderful seafood dinner.”

The interrogator made a pyramid with his fingers and then tapped the ends together in rhythmic repetition. I could tell he was processing what I’d told him and was most likely trying to make up his mind as to whether or not I was a killer. I focused on a fly that was circling the man’s head in an effort to wait for the next question, rather than just ramble on, as I’d promised myself not to do.