Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) (17 page)

“Bingo. Hilton security took me in for burglary, but I wasn’t burgling. I was looking for Uncle Louie’s missing Booze Bible.”

“Dressed as a pirate’s ho?”

“I prefer wench.”

“You were in a costume playing detective again. None of the nut jobs were arrested with you?”

“None. They were on a bar crawl down Kalakaua. Don’t forget those old nut jobs are my friends.”

He rested his elbow over the open window and watched some kids chase a soccer ball across the grass. Em saw the muscle in his jaw twitch.

“You’re pissed,” she said.

“I’m disappointed.” Somehow disappointment sounded much worse than anger.

“I’m sorry, Roland.” There wasn’t much more she could say. “But . . .”

“But you can’t help yourself.”

“It seemed like such a great idea at the time. My uncle and I suspected one of the contest entrants may have stolen his notebook, so I decided to mingle and see if I could uncover anything. The costume party was the perfect venue. I wore a mask and wig, and no one recognized me. In fact, Louie talked to me at the party and didn’t even know who I was. Naturally, for his own good, I didn’t tell him about my plan.”

“Naturally.”

She went on to tell him her suspicions about dePesto.

“I found another extortion letter in his suite along with a printer and computer before he caught me sleuthing.”

“You mean snooping, not sleuthing.”

“Speaking of the letter, did you get to watch the video feed?”

“The technicians still weren’t finished when you called. It should be repaired and cued up when we get back.”

“By Varla.”

“Varla. Very cooperative.”

“I’ll bet,” she said.

“Not telling
me
about last night is one thing, Em, but Bardon is going to find out. When he does, it’s not going to look good. Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I hadn’t told you yet. Besides, I knew it wouldn’t look good. Maybe he’ll catch the real killer right away, and I’ll never have to tell him. I don’t have to worry, do I? I didn’t kill Phillip.”

“I know that,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Of course.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Yeah, but that’s only because I know you. Besides, I’m pretty sure that if you ever did try to kill somebody, you’d mess it up somehow.”

She didn’t speak to him the rest of the way back to the Hilton. As they walked in, Em noticed the absence of all of the Mindy’s Miracle Cream conference attendees. Apparently the ladies in lavender had packed up their makeup kits and disappeared, only to be replaced by a host of Shriners in bright double XX aloha shirts and red fezzes with tassels. The male conventioneers were everywhere, posing for photos beside bronze sculptures of hula dancers, lounging on chaises around the pool, yucking it up at the Tapa Bar.

As Em and Roland passed the huge tiki standing in the planter near the bar, Em noticed the Pirate Party banner was gone, replaced by one that read Welcome Shriners. Now even the tiki was wearing a huge red plastic fez. Before they reached the security office, Roland stopped outside one of the two Starbucks on the premises.

“Want anything?” he asked.

“No thanks. My stomach is still queasy.” She didn’t think she’d ever eat again.

He ducked inside and left Em waiting for him on the walk. She watched two Shriners and their wives pass by. They were all carrying inflatable floats and beach towels. The scent of coconut tanning lotion wafted around them.

Roland walked back out of the shop just as another herd of Shriners in swim trunks passed by.

“Do you think they’ll wear those fezzes in the water?” she asked him.

“Maybe they get fined for taking them off.”

Em noted the tall lidded coffee cup and white bakery sack in Roland’s hands.

“For Varla,” he said.

“Bribes?”

“Whatever works.”

When they walked into the hotel security office, Varla was all smiles until she noticed Em. Roland tried to sweeten her up with the blueberry scone and a latte, which appeared to help.

“I have the morning tape all cued up for you, Detective.” She smiled up at him and blinked her green eyes. “Come on back and view it.”

Roland motioned for Em to follow. She started to until Varla abruptly turned around. The look she gave Em made her want to shrink down to the size of a cockroach and scurry through a crack in the wall.

“The screening area’s pretty small.” Varla stared pointedly at Em. “You might want to wait out here.”

Em opened her mouth to inform Varla that she was in no mood to be messed with, that she had a hangover, her ex-husband had just been murdered, and she was one of the number one suspects. Instead, she took a step closer to Roland and poked him in the ribs.

“I need her to ID someone,” he told Varla.

After a three second standoff, Varla finally caved. “Okay. Whatevah.”

Em declined a chair and stood at Roland’s elbow, leaning over his shoulder to see the screen. While Varla sipped latte and nibbled on the scone, Roland fast forwarded through guests coming and going at the reception area. There was more than one reception clerk and sometimes up to four of them to watch. Roland kept pausing then pushing play and fast forward until Em was nauseous. She was about to tell him she needed a break when something flashed on the screen that caught her eye.

“Stop!” She tapped his arm. “Envelopes.”

He hit pause. “I saw them too.”

At the fourth desk on the right, a tall man in a baseball cap and glasses handed what appeared to be two large envelopes to the clerk. He had on an overly large aloha shirt covered in pineapples.

“Can you zoom in?” Em had an extremely eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The image grew a bit fuzzy as it enlarged until there was no doubt in her mind.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled.

“What?” Roland said.

“That’s Phillip.” Luckily there was an empty chair next to Roland. She sat down hard and stared at the image on the video monitor.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, pointing at the screen. “I’m sure. See that watch?”

“Hard to miss. Can you print this frame along with the one before and after it?” he asked Varla.

“For you Roland? Sure thing.”

Roland?
Em managed to get to her feet, excused herself, and told Roland she’d meet him outside. She was feeling woozy again, in need of fresh air.

Her thoughts were jumbled. Numbly she watched a Japanese bride in a traditional white wedding gown and a groom in a black tux pose for photos in front of the hotel’s wedding gazebo. The structure perched on lava boulders above a waterfall-fed lagoon below the Ocean Crystal chapel. Em didn’t even hear Roland walk up until he spoke beside her.

“Are you all right?”

“I can’t seem to think straight right now, and not just because of last night’s grog fest. I can’t believe Phillip not only stole Uncle Louie’s Booze Bible, but he tried to bilk us into paying for its return.”

“How would he even have known about it?”

“The same reason he called to see if I’d be here this week. He read all about Uncle Louie in a story about the Shake Off in the
LA Times
. Louie was featured and the Booze Bible was mentioned.”

“Why did he expect to get you to pay for it?”

“Louie was quoted as saying the notebook contained all his recipes and was his life’s work. It was invaluable to him.” She paused for a minute thinking. “If the time on the video camera is correct, then Phillip delivered those envelopes right before he and I met for lunch. I can’t imagine the nerve that must have taken. That wasn’t the shirt he wore to lunch later. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead in such a gaudy shirt or the baseball cap.”

“He probably tossed them after he left here and walked over to meet you at the Halekulani. It’s not very far,” he said.

“He had the nerve to sit there and tell me how well he was doing and how he’d turned his life around when all the time he knew that letter was being delivered to my uncle. Thank goodness it got stalled at the front desk until I got back. I’m so glad Louie wasn’t there alone. He’d have mortgaged the Goddess if I hadn’t stopped him.”

A thought came to her and she added, “If Phillip stole the Booze Bible, then it must be in that seedy apartment. We’ve got to go back.”

“To the murder scene? Not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Let me call Bardon and fill him in first. He may have already found the notebook among Phillip’s things. Not only that, but if he looked you up, he may have found out that you omitted telling him about your trip to the Waikiki substation last night.”

“Okay, but we need . . .”

“We
need
to think about this. If Phillip had the notebook in his possession, that gives you an even bigger motive for murder than getting revenge over a messy divorce.”

“I didn’t want
revenge
. I didn’t want anything from him. Until just now, I didn’t know he was the thief.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just telling you what Bardon is probably going to think.”

“What do we do now?”

“I’ll call Bardon and tell him Phillip Johnson was at the very least an extortionist, and I’ll tell him about your little escapade last night.”

“Don’t forget to ask if they found Louie’s Booze Bible in the apartment and if they haven’t, they have to please search for it. Louie needs it right away.”

“It’s evidence in a murder case. They’re not going to hand it over.”

“Oh, Roland, they have to. Louie is lost without it. Please, call Bardon and do whatever you can. I’ll buy you coffee and scones if that works.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” He paused a moment, watched the over-animated photographer pose the Japanese couple in the gazebo. “What does it look like anyway?”

She described the three ring binder filled with pages and pages of handwritten legends and recipes inside. Some had doodles around the margins. There were fruit juice spatters on some of the pages.

“You’re forgetting one thing, Em,” he said.

“No doubt. I damaged more than a few brain cells last night.”

“Someone killed your ex. It definitely wasn’t you. If it wasn’t Bautista, there’s only one other obvious suspect.”

“Louie? Oh no. He was at the party. Everyone saw him there. This morning you saw him before he left for the contest. He was in the suite. Louie had no idea where Phillip was staying. Nor could he have found him at that apartment.”

“Not Louie,” he said. “Someone else.”

When she realized who he was talking about, they both said the same thing at the same time—

“The fiancée.”

26

ROLAND SUGGESTED Em find a seat in the atrium near the Tapa Bar and wait while he called Bardon. He would meet her after the call. The place was packed with Shriners, and all the seats in the bar were occupied, so she found a spot on a low planter wall where she could sit and watch the men cavort. Apparently they were living up to the “fun and fellowship” motto emblazoned on the banner near the registration area.

It was a little past noon, and they already had the “fun” requirement pretty well covered.

Em heard a very recognizable horn beep, turned, and saw Little Estelle roll up on her rented Gadabout. With so many other things to worry about, Em had all but forgotten Little Estelle had gone AWOL.

Em couldn’t ignore the fact that Little Estelle was not only wearing a trucker style ball cap sideways, but also a big gold medallion on a heavy gold chain around her ninety-year-old, pencil-thin neck.

“Look at all the Shriners!” Little Estelle waved toward the bar. “This must be my lucky day. I
love
Shriners!”

“Have you told Big Estelle you’re back? She’s worried about you.”

“That stick in the mud? If I hadn’t seen her pop outta me seventy years ago, I’d never know she was mine. She’s always worried about something. I’m a big girl, you know.”

“Where’d you get the necklace?” Em asked.

Little Estelle lifted the medallion and stared at it for a second.

“My new bling? My producer gave it to me for a job well done.” She winked.

Em wasn’t about to ask for details. “How was your recording session?”

“Sweet. Got my first track laid down in a couple of takes.” She was obviously distracted by all the Shriners in the bar. “I was First Lady once.” She spoke with a faraway look in her eyes.

“First Lady?” Em reached for her cell. Time to call in Big Estelle and let her know her mom was definitely losing it.

Little Estelle nodded. “One of my husbands, maybe my second, was a Shriner. He rose through the ranks, eventually became the Grand High Poobah. Actually, it’s called the Imperial Potentate.”

“Seriously?”

“You bet’cha. We used to travel all over going to these conventions, raising money for children’s hospitals. You might not think so by looking at these guys, but they’re dedicated to philanthropic work. Well, that and partying. They’ve been at it since 1872.”

“So why the fezzes?”

Little Estelle let out a cackle. “Why not? You haven’t lived until you’ve been to bed with a man in a fez, honey. Not that I’ve ever needed an excuse to go wild.”

Em decided no one else could keep her mind off of what Detective Bardon might be telling Roland as well as Little Estelle could.

“So, what’s the title of your rap?” she asked the former first lady.

“‘Motorized Love.’ Wanna hear the first verse?”

Before Em could say no, Little Estelle started tapping her handlebars and making beat box sounds.

“Pooh, cheechee, pooh, cheechee, pooh, cheechee, pooh.” She kept tapping as she launched into the lyrics.

“I got it goin’ on, goin’ on, goin’ on.

All night long, all night long, all night long.

I got it goin’ on, to the lef’, to the right, back n’ forth, all damn night.

Got it goin’ on, goin’ on, goin’ on.

Goin’ on like its galvanized, polarized, super-sized.

Motorized
luv
!

Pooh, cheechee, pooh, cheechee, pooh, cheechee, pooh.”

She smiled at Em, waiting for her to say something.

“Wow.”

“I know, huh? I had no idea I could do that until I tried.” Little Estelle smiled.

“I’m sure it’s a rare talent.”

“You bet. It’s a gift. My rap name is Elenee. Stands for L and E, Little Estelle, get it? Like Eminem is MnM. I’ll get you and Roland front row seats at the first stop on my concert tour.”

“That’ll be great. When and where do you open?”

“Still working out the details. Oh my stars and garters, I
know
that guy.” She pointed toward the ground in front of the bar where a hefty Shriner was doing one-handed pushups. The tassel on his fez was slapping the stone floor.