Kauai Temptations

by Terry Ambrose

  Najar scoffed. “What? That makes no sense.”

  “Actually, it makes perfect sense. You were trying to find a gang. You wanted to know who was behind this identity theft ring. I was after the guy who stole my checks. We were looking on completely different levels. You didn’t have time to search for the guy who ripped me off. I spent my time figuring that out. The rest was just connecting the dots.”

  Najar was getting really good at this eye-rolling stuff. He might think I was off my rocker, but I’d beat him to the punch. “Fine. Whatever. You made a connection we didn’t. Now, leave the rest to us and go home.”

  “Wait a minute. Do you think he’s involved in Morah’s death?”

  Najar shook his head. “For crying out loud. Morah Wilkerson died in an explosion she caused. You can call it suicide, stupidity, whatever. But, she did herself in.”

  “Why would a pregnant woman do something so dangerous?”

  “Pregnant or not, junkies do it all the time. They don’t think. They just get hooked. We see it every day.”

  “Really?” My sarcasm wasn’t lost on Najar. “When’s the last time you had a drug explosion on island?”

  He glared at me, probably trying to convince me that I shouldn’t be second-guessing his police work. “Fine, this is the only explosion we’ve had, but we see junkies do stupid things.”

  I picked up the photo of his family and pointed to the woman. I assumed it was his wife. “Would she do that?” I pointed to his daughter. “What about her?”

  Red flames of anger rose past Najar’s neck to his face. If I thought I’d seen red in those cheeks before, I’d seen nothing. His jaw twitched as he braced himself in his chair. “They’re not junkies.” His words were cold and slow.

  “Maybe Morah wasn’t either.” I was out of time. “You’re assuming Morah caused the explosion because that’s how you met her, that was her past. I’ve talked to people who knew her. They say she’d cleaned up. They knew her differently. Because you deal with this all the time, you assumed she took a step backwards. What if she didn’t? Did you ever think about that?”

  “All the evidence points to her. Besides, we’re still waiting for the autopsy.”

  I shook my head. “All of the conclusions about the evidence points to what you say happened to her. Detective, this woman was involved in a love triangle. According to her best friend, she wanted one last fling before she decided to marry Kong. She didn’t need meth. She’d just learned she was pregnant. My money says it was Kong’s baby.”

  “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All, then how’d she die? Kong or Antoine got jealous and decided to blow her up? Come on. You’ve been watching too much TV.”

  “Do you know who the father was?”

  Najar rubbed his fingers together. “Costs too much. We don’t run DNA unless there’s a reason.”

  “Maybe you’ve got one. What if the baby wasn’t Kong’s?”

  Najar let out a slow breath. The sound filled the room with his exasperation and self-doubts. “All right. Let’s say you’re right about someone killing Morah. It would most likely be one of these two guys.”

  I nodded.

  “Fine. I’ll run DNA. Now, will you go home?”

  “I have a few other things I want to clear up while I’m here.”

  Najar buried his face in his hands. “What else?”

  “I’m going to pay Antoine a visit, ask him a few questions.”

  “No way.” Najar erupted from behind his desk. “I’ll lock you up first. You’re not going near him. If he’s involved in this somehow, he can’t know we suspect him.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not saying a word about the identity theft gang or him being a suspect. I want to ask him a few questions about Morah.”

  “Stay away.”

  “But I can ask questions without him realizing he’s been found out. He probably knows every cop on the island.”

  “I don’t care if I have to bring someone in from Wisconsin. You stay away from Antoine. I’m serious. If you go near him, if you start accusing him of being involved in anything, he’ll sue your ass. And you know what? I’ll testify I told you to stay away. Mr. McKenna, go home.”

  Najar could probably tell by my face I didn’t like the idea of being sued. I didn’t have a full-time attorney who could defend me at will. A lawsuit would truly bankrupt me.

  He continued his tirade. “I could slap you in jail for interfering in a police investigation right now. By the time you get out, we’ll have this wrapped up. So you are to stay away from Antoine. You hear me?”

  I nodded. “Fine. I’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “Why not today? This afternoon?”

  “My flight’s tomorrow,” I lied. Sheesh. Talk about feeling unwanted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  If there was one thing I learned while working on my last story it was that the more people tell you not to do something, the more reason there is to do it. Najar didn’t want me talking to Antoine for several reasons. I understood all the yada yada about interfering in a police investigation, but me asking questions wouldn’t change the evidence. I’m sure another reason he didn’t want me around was because he didn’t want anyone rocking the boat until he was positive Antoine was involved. He was related to the guy and his wife would probably kill him if she found out he was investigating her brother. The effect on his marriage could be devastating if he was wrong. Okay, if I was wrong.

  Well, I wasn’t Najar. I didn’t have to worry about his wife or his marriage. I didn’t have to worry about whether Antoine was guilty or innocent. The way I saw it, by talking to Antoine, I’d be doing Najar a favor. That meant I had two more stops to make. First would be a visit with Morah’s sister, Lu Tawana, then the lawyer.

  Based on what I’d seen at the funeral, Lu was a real piece of work. She’d taken on Kong and badmouthed her own sister, all without giving any of it a second thought. At least, that’s the way things appeared. She lived on the east side of Kauai, a little bit south of Kapa'a. In a way, I was irked with myself because I’d driven by her apartment without even realizing she lived there.

  As I drove north out of Lihue, I stayed in the far right lane. This highway was actually three lanes wide and CJ had explained how the middle lane got used for what they called “contra flow.” Every weekday, the road crews set up pylons to route two lanes in the direction of the heaviest traffic. I was freaked out enough with just driving and the thought of driving on the wrong side of a double yellow line was not something I was prepared to deal with. So, not wanting to take a chance on some random road crew deciding it was time to mess with the locals, I kept as far to the right as possible. No matter who did what to the lanes, I wouldn’t be bothered.

  I passed a municipal golf course, then came to a bridge at the Wailua River. At the bridge, my relatively straight little road made a turn to the right, forcing us to slow. Midway across the bridge, I said, “Okay, this is okay.” Buster was behaving and the view of whitecaps and windsurfers beyond the sandy expanse of beach at Wailua Bay was absolutely stunning.

  Waipouli, the business district along the highway, is not much more than a couple of little strip malls on either side of the road. Just up from there was Coconut Marketplace. I remembered the pain on Kari’s face when she’d first learned she’d have to give up the necklace. Someday, the surfboard pendant would probably find its way back to Carson’s, right here in that shopping center. Too bad there wasn’t something about the size of this center near my home. It was big enough to offer a good variety of shopping options, but small enough to retain a friendly, hometown feeling.

  Kapa'a was only a couple of miles up the road. As I drove, I realized I was passing a lot of cars which all seemed to be standing still. So this was the gridlock CJ had complained about. It truly was going to take half an hour to go a few miles. When my lane stopped, I regretted not having called before making the drive. What would I do if Lu wasn’t home?

  I found the turnoff for the apartment easily.
This complex was no more than ten years old, but was already showing signs of wear. In the islands, exterior surfaces, unless they are regularly maintained can become weathered by salt and humidity in a couple of years. Woods rot, metals rust and paints peel. We just deal with these things because they're a part of island style.

  From what the guidebooks said, this side of the island got four feet of rain every year, which was double our Honolulu average. So much rain has a tendency to make things grow. The landscaping at Lu’s apartment complex was dominated by lots of hibiscus, jasmine and ferns, all of which grew at the base of large evergreen trees. You’d think that something like a fir tree wouldn’t grow in Hawaii because it never gets cold, but they do love the water. Anyway, I followed a walkway lined in white begonias from the parking lot, then wound my way past blue-painted doors until I found Lu’s apartment.

  I knocked and waited. No answer. I knocked again. Still nothing. So, I had driven all the way up here for nothing. Lu wasn’t home. Nothing like being a dumb ass. How could I do this? I pounded on the door one last time.

  When the door next to Lu’s opened, I backed away. The girl at the door was probably no more than 14 or 15; she wore a pink, tattered bathrobe. “That you making all that noise?” She wheezed and tapped her chest a couple of times.

  “Uh, sorry. Guess I was kind of frustrated, yah? Are you okay?”

  She rolled her eyes, then motioned with her head to my left. “Try the laundry room. It’s her laundry day.” The girl closed the door, but through the open window I heard a hacky cough. I felt awful for having disturbed her, but maybe she’d saved me from having a completely wasted trip. Sure enough, the laundry room was a couple of doors down. As I approached, the thunkity-thunk of clothes tumbling grew louder.

  Inside, there were two coin-operated washers, two dryers, a small counter space for folding clothes, a vending machine and a couple of chairs. Lu sat in one of the chairs, her back to the door. I watched her for a moment, surprised at the difference in her demeanor from the funeral. There, she’d been a raving bitch. Here, she was just a normal person, flipping through a magazine while she waited for her machine to finish its cycle.

  She must have sensed my presence because she half-glanced in my direction, then pulled her dark-rimmed reading glasses down on her nose. She peered at me over the lenses, then frowned. Her brown eyes hinted that she might remember me from somewhere.

  I did my best Cary Grant imitation by leaning against the doorjamb, but she appeared unimpressed so I skipped the voice. I’m not that good anyway. “We met at Morah’s funeral.”

  She removed the glasses, then nodded. She stared at the floor for a minute, then said, “That was awful.”

  “That was a tough day.”

  “I said some terrible things there. I don’t even remember what they were. If I said something to offend you, I’m sorry.” She chuckled. “And I don’t even know who you are. How’s that for guilt?”

  I loved guilt. It made people so cooperative. Time to cash in. “McKenna. I came with CJ. I think you two know each other.”

  “You were the one talking with Kong after I went off on him.”

  “He’s devastated, you know.”

  She wiped away a tear on her cheek. “Morah was really a good kid. All those things I said about her doing drugs? They weren’t true. She did do them once, but not anymore.”

  “You were pretty adamant.”

  “I was crazed. Out of my mind with guilt.”

  “Over?”

  “Is there a reason you’re asking all these questions? I mean, like, why should I tell you this?”

  I walked across the once-green linoleum tile floor and put my rear against the washer. It chug-a-lugged behind me while I held my silence, letting her guilt eat at her. A few seconds later, she grimaced. Tears collected around her eyelids. She sniffled, then set her jaw.

  She croaked, “So? Who are you, anyway?”

  “You miss her a lot and don’t have anyone to talk to, do you?”

  She fingered the mole on her left cheek. A moment later, another tear traced a crooked path down toward the corner of her mouth. She wiped at her nose between sniffles. “Damn, damn, damn.” Her voice broke. “I—hate this. She was—was trying so—so hard.” She buried her face in her hands.

  I spotted a paper tissue box off to one side, pulled a few and handed them to her. She swiped at her cheeks, then her nose.

  “You need to talk to someone, even if it’s a stranger.”

  She choked back a few more sobs. “I’ve alienated everyone. They all hate me now because I was such a . . .”

  “Bitch?” I grimaced. The word had slipped out. It really was an accident. Really.

  “Who did you say you were?” She glared at me, then stood and walked to the door.

  “I’m a friend of CJ’s. I met Morah recently.” Well, sort of. “I guess you’d say we had a lot in common.” Like my bank account.

  At the open doorway, she stared out into the sunshine. It almost felt as though she were wishing it could melt away her problems. “Whatever, I’ve got nobody left. I might as well pour my heart out to a stranger.”

  “Think of it as a one-night stand for the mind.”

  “That’s really perverse, you know.” Despite her words, there was the hint of smile on her lips.

  “So you changed your mind about Morah being killed by a meth explosion?”

  “She didn’t cook meth. She was going to marry Kong. I was mad at him for not being around when she died. That’s the real reason I took it out on him. As much as he repulses me, he’s really a good guy.”

  I nodded. “Scary, but good.”

  She patted at her eyes again. “What’s with the hair, anyway? All over everywhere. But, you know, he was good to her.”

  “Did her relationship make you jealous?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice trailed off, then she gazed at me with tears in her eyes. “It wasn’t fair. I’m older.” She sucked in a breath, held it for a second, then let it out before continuing. “Yes, I was jealous. Because she was everything I wasn’t. Then, when she started spending more time with him than me, I felt abandoned. It’s stupid, I know.”

  “Did she freak out about the marriage proposal?”

  “Completely. I didn’t help any.”

  “What did you do?” The look on her face told me. Her guilt was painted in the brightest shades possible. “You’re the reason she went away for the weekend with Antoine.”

  Her eyes widened. “You know about that? Jesus. How’d you find out?”

  “Word gets around. Why’d you tell her to go with him?”

  “Old flame.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “He was an old flame, you know, an old boyfriend. A bad one at that.”

  “I thought he was married.”

  She snorted. “Like that’s ever stopped him.”

  The washer behind me finished its chugging routine. I heard water. Ah, rinse cycle. “I still don’t get it. If she was so in love with Kong, why would she go off for a weekend with Antoine?”

  “He was handy. Willing. Whatever. And Morah was—well, she was scared to death of marriage. She couldn’t reconcile in her own head whether or not she’d be happy with just one man. She’s never been what you’d call, um, stable. I told her to do what she’d always done, be free.”

  “I’ve heard she gave up drugs for sex.”

  “Morah started early.”

  “What, fifteen?”

  She shook her head, then motioned downwards with her thumb. “Fourteen?”

  “She said it was the best birthday present she ever got. Anyway, a few years later, drugs became a tool to enhance the experience. It’s such a shame she didn’t get to spend her last weekend with the man she loved instead of her boyfriend’s sister’s lover.”

  I stared at her for a long time, grappling with what she’d said. “You’re saying Antoine has a wife and a girlfriend? Who is Kong’s sister? And he spent the weekend wi
th Morah?”

  “Everyone says it’s a small island. I don’t know how he gets away with it. His wife must be blind.”

  “His wife is a cop’s sister.”

  “Antoine will chase anything in a skirt. He even went after that so-called friend of Morah’s, Kari.”

  “I thought she was pretty nice. I thought she and Morah were friends.”

  “Try again. She’s a lying slut. She even tried to sleep with Kong once.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Kari? Tried to seduce Kong? Are you sure?”

  Were Lu’s comments another example of her losing control or had she noticed a relationship between Kong and Kari I’d missed completely? I remembered how flirtatious Kari had been with me. Did she do more than flirt?

  “It was a few weeks ago. I saw her with him. She was all over him.”

  “Where? When?” If there was something going on between Kong and Kari, how would I find out?

  Lu studied the settings dial on the washer. “I don’t remember exactly, but it was in the afternoon. He was coming out of her place. I was going to see Morah, they didn’t see me. But I saw her.”

  I needed to visit Kari again to confront her with this. “Just one last question. Did you know Morah was learning to surf?”

  “My sister? In the ocean? On one of those things? Oh, please.”

  “What’s so hard to believe about that? Kong confirmed it.”

  “She was a klutz. She fell off her roller skates when she was seven. Who told you that?”

  “Kari. She said Morah wanted to surprise Kong. Why would she lie about learning to surf? Besides, Kong said the same thing.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s true. If it is, I wish I’d have been able to see her. I would have been so proud of her.”

  The washer stopped and Lu busied herself with the laundry. Suddenly, our relationship quickie was over. I was irrelevant again and maybe even in the way. We said our goodbyes and I left, determined to find Kari first and clear up my new questions about her relationship with Kong. I knew quite well most people tend to skew the truth to suit their point of view. Kong, Lu and Kari all saw Morah differently. What was the real Morah like? And Kari, what about her? It would break my heart if she’d been lying to me.