by Sandi Scott
“Come this time next year, I’ll have my own private island here in Hawaii.”
Georgie looked at Aleta. They’d both clearly heard Herb’s plans since they were sitting directly behind him and Pam.
“It never ceases to amaze me how people given a second shot at life don’t look at what they could have lost but instead look for how they can gain,” Aleta chewed her bottom lip. “Does he even know how lucky he is to be alive?”
“I know what you’re thinking, Aleta,” Georgie put her hand on her sister’s arm. “If William were here he would have been right beside Norm’s wife, dragging that sorry excuse back out to the ocean.”
Aleta’s late husband, William, had passed away several years ago and Georgie knew Aleta still missed him on a daily basis.
“Had he survived, he would have never looked for a handout like that. And look at you,” she sniffed, as tears started to form in her eyes. “Never looking back. Always looking forward to live and laugh.”
“It’s okay, Aleta. Remember, we’re on vacation.”
“You never blamed anyone when the cancer showed up. Not even God, who gets blamed for everything from war to bad skin. No. You did what they told you and surrounded yourself with positive stuff and now look at you. Dressing like a confectionary warehouse exploded.”
They giggled.
“This is the last place I want to talk about cancer, Aleta.” George took her sister’s hand. “I want to talk about what we are going to eat and wear and buy. That’s it.”
It didn’t take long for Herb’s scam idea to spread as Pam told her boyfriend and he told his buddy Forrester, and so throughout the small grapevine until Norman asked Georgie on the balcony if she’d heard about his plan.
“We were right behind him. The only thing he didn’t do was hunch his shoulders, wring his hands and laugh insanely like Renfield from Dracula.”
“Unbelievable,” Norman ground out. “It doesn’t pay to be a nice guy. My dad used to say that. It’s amazing how many times he’s been proven right.”
“Our dad used to say never volunteer,” Georgie joked.
“Was he in the service?” Norman’s anger abated slightly.
“Army.”
“Yeah, that’s something they’d say in the Marine’s too. I did four years right out of high school.” He shook his head. “But I’ll tell you this. If that jerk thinks he can punish my boy for doing a good deed and saving his sorry—well, he’s got another think coming. I didn’t work in the FBI without picking up a few things in the process. A guy like that should be taught a lesson.”
“Don’t worry, Norm. Fate has a way of dealing with jerks like Herb. And gentlemen like Luke.” Georgie patted his big, muscular arm. Still, the scowl on the retired FBI agent’s face made Georgie glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of it.
Chapter 4
“All right, y’all.” Daniel clapped to get everyone’s attention. The short shuttle ride to the evening’s scheduled entertainment, a genuine luau, had been exciting and boisterous. Everyone on the tour bus was well rested, sun-kissed and starving.
“Now, there is a lot that happens at a Germain’s Luau,” he continued. “There will be hula and fire dancers, and traditional Hawaiian singing accompanied by the ukulele. And they do expect audience participation.”
“I’d pay cash to see them get Herb to do a hula dance,” Georgie whispered to Aleta.
“I don’t know. He might threaten to sue for mental anguish,” Aleta replied.
“You can get your picture taken, you now, like you are at the prom,” Daniel continued, making everyone laugh. “There are wonderful tropical drinks. Oh, yeah, and there is food. Lots and lots of food. So I hope you are all as hungry as I am.”
When the shuttle arrived at the venue the sun was just grazing the horizon. A vibrant kaleidoscope of colors spread across the sky as another day in the Hawaiian Islands wound down. Germain’s Luau was located on top of a cliff that overlooked the ocean that was streaked with orange and red.
Flickering tiki lamps lead the way along a sandy path flanked by green grass, palm trees and, of course, more orchids.
“Aloha.” A smiling, muscular young man said as he greeted the group. He led them down the path toward the main feasting area.
“His skirt is tighter that yours,” Aleta said to Georgie. “Thank goodness yours isn’t that short.”
“Very funny.” Georgie smoothed out her yellow and purple flowered dress. “I’ll have you know that while I was waiting for you in the lobby while you went back for your camera, one of the hotel check-in girls said I looked lovely.”
“Was it that cross-eyed girl who was slowly going blind from looking directly into the sun? Poor thing can only see vague shapes and glaring, unnatural colors. You were probably the only thing she could see in the entire lobby.”
“Hardy-har. Aren’t you a riot?”
Aleta slipped her arm through Georgie’s as she laughed.
Just over a lovely hill and down the grassy knoll were long picnic tables lined up in front of a stage that was elegantly decorated with blooming foliage and giant stone sculptures and surfboards.
“Whatever they are cooking smells fantastic,” Norman said, as he sidled up to Georgie and Aleta. “Hey, Dan. What’s the main course?”
Everyone leaned in to hear.
“It’s called Kaluha pork. In a nutshell, a massive pig that has been cooking in the ground for two days. It melts in your mouth. Trust me. You’ll love it.”
“The pig has been in the ground?” Herb asked wrinkling his nose.
“It’s an old tradition, Herb. Trust me. It’s safe, sanitary and delicious.” Daniel tried to assure the man but to no avail.
“This is something we should have been informed of before we agreed to come here.” Herb didn’t see anyone around him. His eyes were focused on Daniel as if he’d just tried to lift his wallet. “I will not eat something that has been buried in the dirt.”
“That’s all right, Herb. This is a buffet. You’ll find something you like.” Daniel tried to sound calm, but it was obvious to Georgie and Aleta that he was reaching his breaking point with Herb. The entire tour group knew that there hadn’t been an hour in the day that Herb wasn’t calling him, texting him or arguing face-to-face with him as he was doing now. Nothing made the guy happy and if it wasn’t him that was unhappy then it was something his wife didn’t like.
“Herb. Trust me. Have a drink and—”
“You know I’m an alcoholic!” Herb shouted.
“How could you tell him to go have a drink?” Pam said in shock.
“I didn’t say it had to have alcohol in it. You think you’re the first alcoholic to ever come to Germain’s? Hardly,” Daniel replied. “They’ve got plenty of non-alcoholic drinks.”
“If this is how the rest of this trip is going to be, you can bet I’ll be contacting my lawyer as soon as we touch down on the mainland.” Herb scowled before stomping off.
Dottie started to go after him but he shook off her arm and she returned to the group, her lips pinched together, her arms folded across her chest and her chin lifted in defiance.
“Does anyone else have an issue with the hundred year old tradition of Kaluha pork?” Daniel asked, quickly scanning the faces of the tour group gathered around him. Everyone shook their heads no. “Great. Then we are at table ten.”
With the drama quickly pushed aside in favor of delicious food, Herb was quickly and easily forgotten. The bodies of the hula dancers waved like palm trees in a gentle breeze. The fire dancers jumped high, twirling their fire sticks, coming dangerously close to singeing various parts of their bodies, but never quite doing so.
“The buffet is open,” Daniel said. “Everyone, just get in line.”
As if they were sharing the same mind, Georgie and Aleta went for the dessert table first. They tried the haupia, which was nothing more than coconut milk and sugar with a little cornstarch and water formed into little cubes. Each lady took a healthy slice of Hawaiian
wedding cake and finally Hawaiian mochi pound cake.
For two people who were upset over the cooking procedure of the main course, Herb and Dottie were first in line at the buffet. When they came back their plates were piled high with all kinds of delicacies. Georgie was almost positive she saw some of the pig on their plates but decided not to ask about it.
However, it didn’t take long for an argument to start.
“I don’t know if it has garlic in it,” Herb snapped.
“Well, you know I can’t eat garlic past six o’clock,” Dottie replied.
“Will she turn into a pumpkin?” Georgie whispered to Aleta who nearly choked trying not to laugh.
“This fish is way too salty,” Herb continued, as if he hadn’t heard his wife. “This bread is as dry as that sand out there. The bottled water costs three dollars. Can you believe that? And it isn’t even Evian.”
“I feel bad for Pam and Hector sitting next to them,” Aleta said. “If that man went a single hour without complaining, I’ll bet his head would explode.”
“Herb, I want to go buy a souvenir,” Dottie said, grabbing her purse.
“Why the hell do you want to remember this awful experience?”
“I have to bring something back.”
“I told you to pick up some shells while we were at the beach.”
“I didn’t see any shells,” Dottie huffed as she stepped away from the picnic table, swinging her purse defiantly over her shoulder.
“Wait one second. Dottie!” Herb called, before hustling after her.
“Isn’t it strange how you can get sick to death of pumpkin flavor during the fall season at home, but I have yet to turn down a pineapple anything since we arrived?” Georgie asked Aleta as she licked at a bit of whipped icing at the corner of her lip.
“I know.” Aleta concurred. “And I couldn’t care less if they cooked this pig in the ground or in a tire fire. It tastes delicious.”
The sisters continued to chat as the entertainment went on around them. Guests of the luau were kept busy refilling their plates, getting drinks at the bar, and taking pictures of the stunning sunset that highlighted the magnificent descent down the side of the cliff to the beach and rocks below.
“I think that cabana boy is looking at you, Georgie,” slurred Pam who obviously had enjoyed one too many pina coladas.
“Are you sure about that, Pam? I think he might be looking at you.” Georgie teased back. Although she didn’t think it was polite to call the fire dancers cabana boys, she didn’t hold it against Pam who was obviously having a harmless good time. She wore a halter top leaving very little to the imagination, with a pair of short shorts that could have easily been bikini bottoms. But, she and Hector were still young, dating and having a good time. Georgie was never one to judge someone’s taste in clothing. Unless it was Aleta.
Luke had just come back from his third trip to the buffet line when June and Forrester came up with a photograph in their hands that they showed the Kaye sisters.
“That looks lovely,” Aleta said. “Come on, Georgie. Let’s go get our picture taken. We’ll send a copy of it to the kids for Christmas.”
Georgie loved the idea and after one last scoop of Hawaiian wedding cake she wiped her mouth, patted her hair in place, straightened her dress and followed Aleta.
Daniel was right in that getting a photograph taken at Germain’s was like posing at prom. Couples lined up to have their picture taken with the sunset as a spectacular backdrop. The men snuggled their women in cute poses where they smiled without a care in the world. All bills and car troubles and work schedules were forgotten for the time being and everyone looked beautiful and happy.
“Do I look all right?” Aleta asked, as she touched her hair.
“You look fantastic.” Georgie put her arm around her as they inched their way up in the short line to the photographer.
The couples would each stand on a small platform. The women were given a flower crown that they were each allowed to keep, and the men received a lei. The backdrop was simply a brilliant sunset reflecting in the calm sea.
“You look like someone who has retired here and doesn’t need the flowery shirts or grass skirts to feel comfortable.” Georgie hugged Aleta’s arm tightly, “You really do fit right in, Aleta.”
“And you are my favorite accessory.” Aleta joked. “Do you think a grass skirt is comfortable?”
“I think they are nude underneath them.” Georgie replied.
“What does that have to do with them being uncomfortable?”
“One million Hawaiians can’t be wrong.” Georgie urged her sister up a few steps.
“They’ve got something on underneath them here, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Pam. I saw her following that cabana boy off to who knows where.”
“You shouldn’t call him the cabana boy,” Aleta scolded. “He’s a fire dancer. That’s much manlier.”
“It is. But sometimes a nickname just sticks.”
“You mean like Boom-boom or Porkchop?” Aleta smirked. Only the twins knew of the pet names that Stan had tried to give to Georgie. Over the years of their marriage and especially after the divorce he couldn’t help himself as he tried to mend fences, labeling Georgie with what he thought were terms of endearment.
“The man tried.” Georgie harrumphed.
“I wonder what Herb and Dottie call each other,” Aleta mused.
“If I were a fly on the wall in their house, I would buzz myself into the nearest spider web as soon as they started bickering.” Georgie rolled her eyes. “I wonder if he let her buy anything at the souvenir stand.”
“I don’t know. I don’t see either one of them,” Aleta said as she scanned the crowd.
Just as it was their turn to get a picture, a horrified scream cut through the entire luau. The photographer froze, and everyone turned in the direction it came from. The dancers and fire jugglers stopped mid-routine, looking bewildered. Georgie and Aleta looked at each other before hustling to get behind the two members of the security staff and the manager of the event who were all moving quickly toward the source of the sound.
Just off the west end of the property, about five yards from where everyone was celebrating and enjoying themselves, a terrified woman looking to be about seventy years old stood near the edge of the cliff, pointing down.
The security guards and the manager reached her first. When they looked over the edge to see what she was pointing at, they gasped. One man had to turn away, shaking his head and holding his stomach.
“That’s not good,” Aleta said, as she watched Georgie carefully approach the edge and peek over.
“Oh no,” Georgie muttered, putting her hand over her heart.
“What is it?” Aleta asked, her eyes wide.
“It’s Herb.” Georgie turned away from the cliff edge, “I think he’s dead.”
Chapter 5
Georgie and Aleta didn’t know what to do until the police arrived and the other guests at the luau were told to leave. Everyone in the Midhostel Travel and Tours group had to remain for questioning.
The twins took their seats back at the picnic table, along with June and Forrester. The couple barely spoke and seemed to be in complete shock.
“Have you seen my dad?” Luke asked nervously.
“No, honey,” Aleta said, before looking at Georgie. “He’s around somewhere.”
As if on cue, Norman arrived looking disheveled and sweaty.
“The bathrooms are hard to find.” He panted, wiping his forehead and smiling. “What’s the matter? Is the show over?”
“Dad, it’s that Herb guy. He’s dead.” Luke said. “He fell off the cliff. The police are questioning everyone about what they saw or didn’t see.”
“Well, that’s an easy one. His wife pushed him,” Norman said, matter-of-factly. “And I can’t say that I blame her.”
Georgie and Aleta were both shocked at Norman’s off-hand manner.
“That isn’t the issue,” Georgie said firmly. “The time of a person’s death isn’t up to us.”
“That’s a real shame sometimes,” Norman replied. “But I’d be lying if I said I was in any way sorry for this. He was ruining everyone’s vacation. I spent too much money on it to shed a tear over a guy I didn’t really know.”
On one hand, Georgie could see Norman’s point. Herb was a jerk and he did make people uncomfortable. And if anyone had pushed him, the obvious suspect was surely his wife who had probably suffered a fit of temporary insanity brought on by Herb’s incessant nagging. But to not even take a moment, not even show some sympathy to the remaining spouse. That was too much for Georgie to choke down.
But before she could say anything more to Norman, two policemen walked past the picnic tables, one on each side of Dottie. Her face was expressionless. Her eyes were looking all around at the lights, the fire pit, and the empty tables.
“See? Told you.” Norman said, exhaling as if he’d been waiting to see something to assure him his theory was right.
“She isn’t in handcuffs,” Georgie said. “She looks like she’s in shock.”
“She probably is. Murder can do that to a person.”
Georgie leaned back and studied Norman. His son didn’t seem to be shocked by what his father was saying. He was probably used to having such a father. A man bigger than life, who whisked him around the world for exotic vacations and father-son bonding trips.
Norman had come back all sweaty, mused Georgie to herself. No one, not even his son, knew where he was when Herb took a dive over the edge. It was a pretty strange coincidence but at this moment that was all it was. A coincidence.
The police came to the table and asked Luke and Norman to come with them for questioning. Georgie watched Norman as he spoke confidently to one of the officers. Luke looked much more concerned, with his hands in his pockets and alternately nodding, then shaking his head. His father, on the other hand, smiled, shrugged and at the end shook hands with the officer they were speaking with. Even clapping the guy on the arm as if he was giving his personal approval of the way the local authorities were handling the situation.
