Kauai Temptations

by Terry Ambrose

I gulped down more coffee, unintentionally draining my cup while trying to figure out what she was intending. My stomach revolted at the sudden influx of scalding liquid. I held back a coffee-burp, which would have definitely made it to the “most embarrassing moments” list. I noticed the necklace dangling from her neck. “I see you brought the pendant.”

  She fingered it and glanced down. I did my best to keep my eyes on the necklace and not on those red triangles, which was a hopeless task. Basically, my willpower sucks. I should work on that.

  “I’ve got something else for you, too.”

  I gulped. Sort of by accident, I became entranced by the color red.

  “You want it?”

  Want what? Uh, yeah. “Sure, now’s good. I can put it in my pants—uh, my briefcase—portfolio.”

  She giggled. “You’re nervous today.” She pulled on the necklace until the clasp was in front, then leaned across the table.

  My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight of her belly button, which peeked up at me from between those red triangles. I gulped, unsure of what I’d do if we weren’t in a public place.

  Her blue eyes smiled at me, unabashedly welcoming my help. “I can’t seem to get the clasp undone. Can you unhook me?”

  Dear God, please help me. But, I knew my prayer was going unanswered. My willpower was gone. I nodded, not even sure if words would come out or if I’d sound like a rambling idiot. My fingers shook as I struggled with the clasp. When it opened and the chain released, I backed away, thankful my trial by red triangles might be over. I pulled the chain from around her neck. She gave me a peck on the cheek, which made my face go hot at the thought of what this erotic striptease looked like to the other patrons.

  “I need more coffee.”

  Kari closed her eyes again and sighed as she took another bite. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

  At the counter, the girl gave me a wink and a smile as she handed me my refill. The room went hot again, but I nodded my thanks and scurried back to the table. My emotions were running somewhere between complete euphoria and the fear felt by a rabbit trying to elude the wolves. What if I had to, you know, perform? I returned to my chair, my focus almost laser-like. I would not be tempted by red.

  “This is so great.” Kari leaned back and dug into her second malasada. Between bites, she said, “So great.”

  Boy, is it ever, I thought. I sat back and sipped my coffee, wondering if she could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

  “This reminds me so much of the last time I saw my dad. We came to a place like this. We sat and drank coffee and ate donuts. That was so much fun. I’m glad we could get together.”

  “What?”

  “You remind me so much of my dad.”

  If one more woman told me that, I might just let the lizard take me next time the dream came around.

  “You’re a little older than him, but you’ve got the same mannerisms.” Her expression turned serious as she eyed me. “What’s the matter? All of a sudden you’ve got this grumpy face on.”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. You know, at my age—heartburn, it’s probably too much coffee.”

  Her eyes widened, she held her hand to her throat. “It’s not a heart attack, is it? I mean, you don’t, like, have pain down your arm or anything, do you?”

  I laughed to hide the sound of my ego imploding. Just because I was old enough to be her father didn’t mean I’d die on her. “You said you had something else for me?”

  She half stood and reached into her pants pocket. I almost groaned; probably at my own stupidity for thinking a hot girl like Kari would be interested in a guy my age.

  “Well, you said you had a medical condition. I thought maybe, you know.”

  I didn’t know, nor did I want to. I waved away her apology. “It’s okay.”

  She shrugged, pulled her hand from her pocket, then set a folded-up piece of paper on the table. She began the unfolding process, smoothing it as she went. “Anyway, after your visit the other day, I kept trying to figure out who the guy was who went with Morah.”

  “And?” My pulse quickened. Had she come across something? If I couldn’t have sex, I’d settle for a suspect.

  “The guy is a spokesman for a local environmental group.”

  I started to reach for the paper, but she yanked it away. She smiled, “You’ve got to listen to how I found this. Then you can have it.”

  With you dressed like that, honey, I could listen all day. I blurted, “What group? What’s his name?”

  “Not so fast, buster.” She giggled. “I used to call my dad that all the time.”

  Ugh. Hair dye. Definitely time for hair dye. Or maybe I should shave my head. Would that make me look hot? With my luck, people would call me another old guy afraid to accept his age.

  “Anyway, like I said, I kept thinking about this guy. I knew I’d seen him somewhere. Then, when I was looking at today’s paper, I saw an article about the development at Poipu.”

  “CJ said something about lots of condos.”

  “Hundreds. The story went on about how this environmental group, Stop Expansion Now!, had threatened a lawsuit against the County Council, the developers, and anyone else remotely involved in the project. They were going to include half the island in the suit.”

  “Didn’t slow them down, did it?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not the point. The story reminded me of who the guy was. He’s their leader, spokesperson, whatever. I went to their website and found . . .” She turned over the paper. “. . . this.”

  I reached into my portfolio and pulled out the picture I’d printed off yesterday. We compared the two.

  Her eyes widened. “For real?” She raised her hand and gave me a high five.

  It was my turn to feel satisfaction. “I was at the Marriott. The people there told me they’d seen him with her, but nobody knew if they were really together or if he was just another guy hitting on her. But you’re sure he left with her that weekend?”

  “Positive. It’s Antoine Figland.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  After Kari left, I decided it was time to have my meeting with Detective Najar. Even though it was Saturday, I was banking on him being in the office. I pulled his card from my wallet and dialed the number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Najar.”

  “Detective, this is McKenna. I’ve come across some additional information in the identity theft case and would like to talk with you for a few minutes. Can I stop by sometime?”

  “What information? I thought you went home.”

  “All I’ve been doing is tying up some loose ends. I came across a few things you should know about while I was at it. I’d really rather do this in person.”

  “We’re up against it on this thing. Can’t you just tell me what you know?”

  I fingered the necklace. Turn it over to Najar or take it to Carson’s? No matter how you looked at it, sooner or later Najar would learn I’d returned the necklace. Better just to deal with him. “I’ve come into possession of an expensive piece of jewelry Morah purchased with one of my checks. I’d like to turn it over to you.”

  “I’ll be here until about noon.” He hung up before I could ask for directions.

  I called CJ, filled her in, then asked her how to get to the Kauai Police Department.

  “It’s a fancy new building down by the fairgrounds. You know where that is?”

  If I did, would I be calling? “No,” I said.

  “You remember where Rice Street is? Take that, then turn left on Hoolako. All you gotta do is follow your nose past the stadium, then around a couple of turns. The road’s gonna tee out. Take a left and you’re there. Good luck with parking. But Saturday might not be too bad.”

  All I remembered from her string of turns was Rice and Hoolako, but I didn’t want to be called a baby by CJ again, so I simply thanked her for the directions.

  “Hey McKenna, I’m kind of getting used to having
a live-in cook. You wanna stick around a while, that’d be okay by me.”

  Maybe CJ just wanted a maid. Or maybe she was lonely. I didn’t know. But, either way, I suspected I’d overstayed my welcome on the Garden Island. Buster, fortunately, behaved and we found the building without trouble. The complex itself was laid out in a two-story “L” shape. The walls were a beige stucco with darker beige accents and dark blue trim. At the entrance, a nice sign showed the layout for both the first and second floors. Najar was in the Police Investigative Services section located on the second floor. With a nod toward getting a bit of exercise for the day, I opted for the stairs, which were immediately to my right.

  It surprised me how I was able to walk right into a reception area without going through some sort of security. In Honolulu, I’d have been frisked, scanned, tagged and monitored for wanting to use the restroom. Here, it felt more laid back. This was “island style,” but in a new building.

  As promised, Najar was in his office. My plan was to tell him about Kong, Antoine and Morah. Once that was done, I could begin preparations for heading home. The officer on duty at the front entrance called Najar, who met me in the lobby. We exchanged the usual minor pleasantries—nice day, good weather, fortunate to live in paradise—on the way to his office. Najar had opted for a neat pair of beige Dockers with an aloha shirt for his weekend work attire. Overcrowded with papers, files and photos, the desktop was anything but neat. He sat behind the scattered mass of papers and started in on me again. “I thought you’d be back on Oahu by now.”

  I reached forward to inspect one of the photos. A woman and children smiled back from the picture. “Nice picture. Your kids?”

  “Got three. One going off to college next year. You said you have something that was purchased with one of the bad checks.”

  “College costs so much these days. Is he going to U of H?”

  “You didn’t come here to talk about my family.”

  “I figured you for a family kind of guy.”

  “You figured me right. So what is it you have? Let’s get to it, I’m busy.”

  Where to begin? And really, were my questions intended to make him like me, or the opposite? “I had a conversation with Kong.”

  “You did what?”

  “Let’s talk about your family again.”

  Najar planted his forearms on the desk. “Let’s not. What were you trying to do? Interfere with my investigation?”

  I glanced around Najar’s office. Off-white walls, a couple of degrees in frames behind his desk along with a few beach photos evenly spaced on the other walls made this a pleasant little home away from home—all very tidy and neat—and a sharp contrast to the paper jungle on his desk. “I have this little problem. My credit’s screwed and so am I unless this gets resolved.” I leaned forward to match his body language. Two could play that game. “And I don’t mean in a year when your kid is a freshman in college.”

  Najar winced.

  Had I hit a nerve? Based on his change in demeanor, I suspected he felt guilty.

  “My boy’s going to be a Warrior. He loves football. Always has.”

  “As you can see, I never would have been big enough. I think the most I ever weighed was 145.” It appeared we had a truce, at least, temporarily.

  He chuckled. “They’d use you for bench press warmup.” In an instant, he was serious again. “So why’d you go see Kong? Give me the truth and not some bullshit news story you made up.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am working on a story. It’s about identity theft. You know, it could help you out, eventually.”

  “What’d you learn?”

  “Kong’s your guy, isn’t he?”

  “You know I can’t discuss that. You said something about jewelry.”

  Not yet, I thought. “In a minute, I’ll give you the pendant. It’s from Carson’s.”

  Narjar’s eyebrows went up; he dialed the phone. “I’m going to need a receipt for some evidence.” He glanced at me and said to the person on the other end, “And don’t dawdle.”

  As soon as he put down the phone, I went after him again. “I know it’s an ongoing investigation. But, if you were thinking Kong was your guy, you’d be on the right track. Look, here’s what I think happened. Kong was making lots of money creating false identities. His girlfriend saw this. Maybe she got kind of greedy, wanted a piece of the action. She got hold of one of those IDs and went on a shopping spree on my bank account. But, she pissed off someone and that’s what got her killed.”

  Najar shook his head. “Doesn’t work. The apartment was locked up tight as a drum. Unless you count the blown out dining room slider and living room window. Besides, if every crook who used a fake ID got killed, there wouldn’t be anyone left in the business after a while. To my knowledge, there’s no rival gangs here. Not for this.”

  “I don’t think it was a rival gang. Another type, maybe.”

  He made a face that said I was out of my freaking mind. “No way. Nobody’s gonna mess with Kong. He’s one of the scariest dudes on the island.”

  “What if Morah was messing with him?”

  Najar’s jaw dropped, then he worked it from side to side for a few seconds. He leaned forward and planted both elbows on the desk. “You think she was two-timing Kong? I thought they were in love.”

  “Kari—from Morah’s apartment? You guys interviewed her after the explosion. Anyway, she told me Morah asked her to go to the Marriott for the weekend. Morah wanted to try something different. Maybe Kong found out.”

  He dismissed my statement with a wave of his hand. “Kong was in Honolulu. He was being watched by HPD, so it couldn’t have been him. Besides, I told you we don’t work every single bounced check.”

  “It was a lot of money for a weekend. I’d think the Marriott would ask for help in collecting the bad check.”

  “They’ve got a normal process. Anything else?”

  “The guy was Antoine Figland, her attorney.”

  Talk about the show being worth the price of admission. Najar hadn’t batted an eye at the mention of Kari’s name, but he was flabbergasted by this piece of news. The reaction was way over the top. It was as though he’d gone to a big, fancy carwash and was watching his car inch along, suddenly realizing he’d left the windows down and the car was full of water.

  Najar shook his head. “That’s not possible. I know him—personally.”

  I pulled the photo from my portfolio. “He was positively identified by employees at the Marriot. As was she.” I pulled Morah’s photo also.

  The detective buried his face in his hands. “Crap, crap, crap.”

  “He used to date her. They had a little fling a while back. Don’t ask me how long ago, I don’t know. Anyway, they got together for a weekend, which wouldn’t have been much of a problem, but Kong found out. I still don’t think Kong killed her, though.”

  “Crap!”

  I didn’t see what the big deal was. “So she wound up screwing her old boyfriend. So what?”

  “He’s married. Has kids.”

  “Lots of married men have affairs. Anyway, that’s the connection. That’s even better because you can extrapolate that on out to married man needs to keep girlfriend quiet—permanently.”

  Najar stared off into the corner of the room, a faraway look in his eyes. He was obviously deep in thought about this turn of events.

  “It’s easy to overlook the people we know,” I said. “We never want to think badly of them.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Hey, come on. Don’t kick yourself, yah? Maybe I’m wrong, maybe he didn’t kill her.”

  The slamming of his fist on the desk took me by surprise. The guy was really pissed, enough so to send his jumble of papers and picture frames jumping. “Son of a bitch. That son of a bitch!”

  Behind me, I heard footsteps, then the rustle of clothing as it rubbed against the doorway. “Everything okay in here?”

  A short, wide fireplug of a man stood in the middle
of the doorway. A fly could barely squeeze between Fireplug and the doorjamb. Fireplug nodded at me, but then quickly turned his gaze back to Najar.

  Najar swallowed hard. “Add a new suspect to the list.”

  “Okay, who?”

  “Antoine Figland.”

  “Antoine? Serious? Why? What could he have to do with this? He’s never even been on the radar before.”

  Najar interrupted Fireplug. “I know. Just put him on the list.”

  Fireplug nodded and turned to leave. The room was silent for a moment, Najar deep in thought, me deep in puzzlement.

  “What’s so special about Antoine Figland? He’s only an attorney. Morah’s old boyfriend.”

  “You’d figure it out pretty soon, anyway,” Najar snorted.

  “What?”

  “Antoine Figland isn’t just an acquaintance or a friend, he’s my brother-in-law.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  An older, stocky woman with a receipt book showed up a few seconds later. While she attended to the paperwork, I contemplated Najar’s predicament. Talk about no-win. Besides the obviously difficult situation of having to tell his wife her brother might be a criminal, there was the whole confidentiality thing. Had he inadvertently passed information to Antoine? Would he be considered guilty by association?

  After I’d exchanged Kari’s pendant for a flimsy piece of paper, the receipt lady left us alone. At that point, I sat back in my chair. “You’re really screwed. Oops, sorry, that just slipped out.”

  “He lied to me.” Najar’s cheeks were about fifty shades of red; his jaw was so tight it looked like it might crack.

  “He’s a lawyer.” Now I was the one who wanted to roll my eyes.

  “He lied to his sister and his wife. He was supposed to be in L.A. at a conference or some damned thing.”

  “He created an elaborate alibi so he could have an affair?”

  Najar nodded. “How did you figure this out? It was right under my nose.”

  The answer was pretty obvious to me, but maybe not anyone else in the world. I relaxed in my chair, slouching slightly. “I think the problem is you were looking for the forest. I wanted to find the tree.”