Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) (29 page)

“I’m also looking for old cocktail recipe books,” Kiki said. “Drink recipes, you know? I’m a collector. I’m always looking for something really unique. Money is
no
object if it’s something I’ve never seen before.”

Just as Kiki expected, greed won out. Bautista paused.

The vendor gave a slight shake of his head as if to warn the other man away. Bautista paid no attention.

The vendor whispered to Bautista, “Get in the van, I’m tellin’ you, man.”

Bautista whispered back, but it was loud enough for Kiki to hear. “She’s just an old lady with money. No worries.”

He ducked into the van, and as the vendor was quoting a price of fifty dollars for a plate clearly marked at twenty-four, Bautista was back with an insulated grocery bag. Kiki ignored the vendor and watched Bautista slip Louie’s Booze Bible out of the grocery bag. Trish was standing beside the front table. She held up a vintage pillowcase and pretended to take a photo of it, but aimed the lens right at Bautista and the notebook.

By this time Big Estelle, Flora, and Pat were no longer pretending to shop. They watched as Kiki reached for the Booze Bible. It was almost in her hands when Lillian came running up to the booth waving her cell and yelling, “They’re on the way. The police are through the front gate.”

Bautista pushed Kiki out of his way, tossing her against a table. He darted toward the front of the booth. Faster than a mongoose, he sidestepped Big Estelle and Flora. Pat tried to grab him by the sleeve and missed. With all three of them on his heels, he barreled around the front table and out of the booth.

He shoved Lillian aside and headed down the aisle. Lillian started screaming. Precious knocked the tiki on the ground and gave it a shove with her foot. It rolled right into Bauista’s path. He pitched forward, flew through the air, and dove across the hot asphalt face first.

Big Estelle and Flora came barreling out of the booth and sat on Bautista before he could get up. Kiki was right behind them carrying the insulated shopping bag containing Louie’s Booze Bible.

“Do not let him up!” she hollered. “Keep him there.”

“Good job, ladeeze! Way to go,” Pat hollered.

The crowd closed around them. Kiki bounced up and down to look over them and saw the police round the corner of the aisle. The officers saw the commotion and started running.

Kiki looked at Bautista, what she could see of him anyway. Except for his head and his Nikes sticking out from beneath the ruffled flounces on Big Estelle and Flora’s muumuus, he was completely hidden.

Lillian was still crying. She’d managed to end up with three of her fans surrounding her. They patted her on the back to comfort her.

Kiki walked over to her and said, “Get a grip, Lillian. You might want to get that hat off of your head. The police are here.”

“But they’re
fake
leaves,” Lil whined. “How was I supposed to know what pot leaves look like?”

“And call Em,” Kiki added. “Now.”

Lillian yanked off her hat and shoved it into her straw bag. “What should I tell her?”

“Tell her to bring Roland and get over to the Aloha Stadium ASAP. Tell her we’ve got her husband’s killer all wrapped up for her, and we recovered Louie’s Booze Bible, too. Then get the mayor of Honolulu on the phone. I’m gonna ask him about giving us a proclamation.”

40

WHEN EM SAW THE caller was Lillian she decided let the call go to voicemail and watched her uncle bask in the glow of success. The standing ovation went on and on until finally the MC waved everyone back to sitting except the press.

They shouted questions and compliments to Louie as he took it all in stride. Everyone was convinced the monkey in the fez and Little Estelle were part of his shtick.

“Mr. Marshall,” one of the reporters shouted.

Louie acknowledged him. “It’s Louie. Just Louie. Or Uncle Louie,” he said.

“Louie, you did so much more than shaker juggling and drink mixing here. You really set the mood before you started and ended with a real bang. How did you decide on the theme?”

Louie nodded. “Tiki’s not a theme to me. It’s the symbol of a lifestyle. Tiki culture is all part of a myth that came out of the mindset of the 1950s . . .”

As the interview went on, Em decided to slip out. She went out the same door the monkey used for its exit, hoping it might be somewhere nearby. With the deposit Louie had riding on its return, she wondered if there might be someone from the Honolulu Zoo she could hire to catch it.

Her phone vibrated. When she saw it was Lillian again she answered.

“I’m sorry, Lillian. I was in Louie’s presentation and . . .”

Lillian was sobbing too hard to speak.

Em said, “Calm down, Lillian. What’s going on?”

More sobbing.

“Is everyone alive?” Em pictured an overturned van with Maidens trapped inside.

“Yes. Kiki told me to call you. You have to get over here now!”

“Where is here? Where are you?”

“The swap meet. The big swap meet. We tracked him down. We got him. First we went to his apartment, then we went to the tiki restaurant by that marina.”

“What’s that screaming?”

“That’s him. Your husband’s killer. We got him.”

“Do you have someone tied up in the van, Lillian? Who is screaming?”

“We found him. Kiki found him.”

“Is someone torturing him? That kind of confession won’t stand up in court.” She could just picture Pat wielding wires attached to a battery and clipping them to Bautista’s privates.

“No, no torture. Big Estelle and Flora are sitting on him right now. The police are here somewhere. Kiki wants you to get here fast. Oh!”

“Oh, what?”

“They’re here. They’re sealing off the area with crime scene tape.”

Em heard scratchy sounds, as if Lillian had muffled the phone. Then Lillian said, “Okay, okay.”

“What’s going on?” Em realized she was shouting. People outside the convention ballroom were staring.

“They said we can’t leave the scene. Kiki just waved at me. What? She says you need to get over here ASAP.”

“Over where?”

“The big swap meet. I gotta go. The police are rounding us up.”

“Lil, wait! Lillian . . .”

Em tried calling back but Lil didn’t answer.

Why me?
Em wondered. Kiki and the girls had rounded up Phillip’s killer? Did they mean Bautista?

She hit Roland’s number. He’d told her that he’d be in the gym.

When he answered she heard weights clanking in the background.

“What’s up?” It sounded as if he was breathing hard.

She’d seen him oiled up for his knife dancing routine, clothed in nothing but a skimpy piece of tapa cloth print fabric tied around his hips. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he’d look like in a gym pumping iron.

For a second she almost forgot why she’d called.

“Lillian just phoned and said the Hula Maidens had captured Phillip’s killer. She said we had to get to the swap meet right now.”

She could tell Roland was already on the move. “What do you mean? Did they find Bautista? He could be armed and dangerous. Are they crazy?”

“Of course, they’re crazy. That never stopped them before. I heard a man screaming. Flora and Big Estelle had him pinned down.”

“Ouch. Where?”

“Lil said something about a big swap meet. I couldn’t get anything else out of her.”

“Aloha Stadium Swap Meet?”

“I have no idea. The
big
swap meet was all she could tell me.”

“That’s it then. I’ll meet you in the reception area in five minutes.”

“Roland, we’ve got to hurry. The police are already on the scene.”

As Em rushed toward the reception area she saw Little Estelle headed along the walk in front of the shops near the pitiful Penguin Pool. She had five minutes to spare, so Em ran down the stone walkway to catch up with her. Luckily Little Estelle hadn’t floored the Gadabout.

“Little Estelle,” Em called. The Gadabout stopped. “Where’s the monkey?”

“Alphonse? He had an appointment.”

Em couldn’t do anything but stare. The woman was seriously losing it.

“Are you shocked we’re on a first name basis?” Little Estelle asked.

“That’s his only name,” Em reminded her.

“As far as we know.”

“About the monkey. Where is he?”

“I think he’s at another wedding reception. He’s hooked on receptions. Besides, he’s in demand just like me. When he does his cha cha wearing a fez, he’s a real showstopper. He loves the limelight as much as Kiki. If you hang around the bar long enough, I’m sure he’ll swing back through.”

“I can’t wait around. Roland and I have to rush off to an emergency.”

“Who’s dead now?” Little Estelle squinted behind her glasses.

“No one, I hope,” Em said.

Little Estelle was staring at a point over Em’s shoulder. She said, “Me, too. Roland’s headed this way, and he’s still handsome as heck, but he sure doesn’t look happy.”

41

BY THE TIME EM and Roland arrived at the swap meet, the HPD had the entrance cordoned off. Cars were allowed to exit but not enter. Roland pulled up to the officer in charge of traffic control and flashed his KPD badge.

“Is Detective Lieutenant Bardon here? I’m working on an investigation with him.”

“He just arrived.” The officer waved them through.

The parking area was huge and nearly empty except for the line of cars waiting to exit. Roland headed around the stadium, and they saw a group of white HPD cruisers circled up near the tent city of booths. There was a line of officers blocking the scene though no one was trying to get past.

“How did they find Bautista?” Roland wondered aloud.

“How do they find anyone? Kiki is a force to be reckoned with when she wants something.” Em leaned forward. “I can’t see what’s going on beyond all those navy blue uniforms.”

Roland pulled up and parked. They both exited the rental car and headed for the gathering on the edge of a row of booths. One officer noticed them. Before he could stop them, Roland flashed his badge and said he was working with Bardon. Two officers parted to let Em and Roland slip into the inner circle. They headed up the aisle. Em saw the rainbow splash of muumuus against the silver gray of awnings and lines of tables. Vendors who had left until tomorrow had draped tarps over their goods and closed up.

“There they are,” Em said.

They hurried toward the action.

“There’s Bautista.” Roland nodded toward a man sitting on the ground in the middle of the aisle with his hands cuffed behind him. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin were skinned and bleeding. He leaned over as if his side was causing him pain. He looked confused and miserable.

“Kiki’s talking to Bardon,” Em said. She saw Pat, her face covered in shiny oil, standing behind Kiki. Lillian was in the shade of a booth that was blocked with crime tape. Her face was as pink as her hair. She was fanning herself with what appeared to be a bouquet of marijuana leaves wrapped in straw.

Precious sat on a toppled tiki in front of the booth. Trish was not far, showing one of the officers the photos on her camera.

“Em!”

Em turned around and saw Big Estelle and Flora sitting on two folding chairs across from the collectibles booth. Each was snacking out of a bag of dried fruit.

“Wanna banana chip?” Flora held up her bag. Em noticed her water bottle was on the ground beside her chair.

“Not now.”

“We got ’em.” Big Estelle smiled. “He tried to run, but we put the skids on that idea.”

Flora nodded. “Sure did. Sucker didn’t know what hit ’em.”

Roland nudged Em’s elbow, and they moved closer to where Bardon was interviewing Kiki. Kiki was saying, “So we went to Chinatown, where we found out he’d given a false address on his employee card at La Mariana Sailing Club. I called the bartender, and he said Bautista might be here at the swap meet, which made perfect sense.”

“How did that make sense?” Bardon’s expression looked like he hadn’t yet made much sense out of any of her story.

Kiki shrugged. “Because after we saw all that stuff in his apartment—”

“You broke into his apartment?” Bardon stopped taking notes and stared at her.

“Sure. That part was child’s play.”

“I’d call it breaking and entering,” the detective said.

“We didn’t
break
in. We were escorted by the manager, Melvin. Nice guy. A little taken with himself though.”

“So Kline let you in.” Bardon was writing again.

“Don’t blame him, though. Flora is Bautista’s cousin. That’s why he let us in. Aren’t you, Flora?” Kiki yelled to Flora across the aisle.

“Aren’t I what?”

“Damian’s cousin.”

“Sure.”

“I doubt that,” Bardon said. “I seriously doubt it.”

Flora stood up and ambled over to where Damian was seated. She nudged him with the toe of her rubber slipper then leaned over him. “Say you my cousin,” she said.