Handbags & Homicide

by Anne Marie Stoddard

  "Is everything okay?" I asked gently.

  "Yeah," Emma said absently, her attention still fixed on the waves. "Just prewedding jitters. You know how it is." She brought the glass of champagne to her lips but stopped, her eyes widening a fraction. "Oh! I almost forgot." She set her drink down on the bamboo patio table. "I got you something," she said, scurrying back inside.

  I raised my eyebrows, surprised. "Em, you shouldn't have," I said as I followed her into the bungalow, sipping my champagne as I went. I relished the sensation of little bubbles fizzing on my tongue. Mmm.

  Emma had dragged her oversized luggage to the foot of her bed and was crouched beside it on the floor, rummaging through its contents. She tossed a few dresses over her shoulder and onto the bed. "Ah!" she cried, removing something from the bottom of the pile. "Found it." She swiveled to face me and held up a large box wrapped in pink paper and gold ribbon.

  Curious, I took the present from her outstretched hands and gave it a subtle shake. Something large but not too heavy shifted inside.

  "Go ahead and open it now." Emma picked herself off the floor and grabbed the dresses she'd thrown aside, carrying them over to the closet. She hung them up and then perched on the corner of her bed, smiling at me expectantly. "Come on. I can't wait to see the look on your face."

  "All right." I gently tore at the wrapping paper, trying not to look as apprehensive as I felt. I'd never been entirely comfortable opening presents in front of people. There was always so much pressure to ooh and ahh just the right amount so that the person knew you liked their gift—even if you didn't and were just being polite. It was something I'd hadn't quite mastered, considering I was a terrible liar.

  Luckily for me, I didn't have to feign the cry of excitement that escaped my lips as I removed the rest of the wrapping and opened the box. Nestled inside the crumpled tissue paper was a beautiful, black Michael Kors satchel purse. In fact, it was the exact handbag that I'd shown Emma several months before when we'd been window shopping at Lenox Mall one Sunday afternoon in Atlanta. I'd debated whether or not I should buy it, but despite her encouragement, I'd ultimately decided against it. Bryan and I had just filed for divorce, and I'd known my funds were going to be limited in the very near future.

  "Wow, Em," I breathed, running a hand over the black leather. "You really shouldn't have. This is too much."

  "Oh, hush," she said, beaming. "I bought all my bridesmaids new purses as a thank you for helping me get ready for my big day." She rose from the bed and came to stand beside me, peering into the box. "Besides, I know how much you wanted that bag, and it is so you."

  I lifted the purse out of the tissue and slid the cross-body strap over my shoulder, admiring my reflection in the mirror on the wall. "You're right about that." I grinned.

  Emma nodded. "Of course I am. Now come on. Let's get ready so we can meet up with the others for dinner."

  Em had requested that all of the girls wear little black dresses for our first night out, so I opened my own suitcase and quickly shimmied into a form-fitting tube top dress I'd purchased with my employee discount from the boutique the week before. After curling my long brown hair and refreshing my makeup, I helped Emma squeeze into her own outfit. As the woman of the hour, she'd chosen to wear a lacy white Ralph Lauren cocktail dress and gold pumps. She'd used a straightener to make her short, dark hair flip out at the ends, and her makeup was flawless.

  "How do I look?" Emma asked, twirling in a slow circle. "I was going for bombshell bachelorette." She winked.

  I felt my eyes mist. "Well, you nailed it," I said, clearing my throat when my voice came out hoarse.

  "Are you crying?"

  "No," I fibbed, but I was pretty sure the sniffle that followed gave me away. "I'm just so happy for you—and you look absolutely stunning."

  Emma smirked. "If you think this dress is hot, just wait until you see the one I have for the wedding," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It kills."

  "I'll bet it's gorgeous," I replied with a nod. "I can't wait to see it."

  A knock sounded at the door, and Jamie's voice filtered through from outside. "I'm back," she called. "Is everyone ready?"

  I quickly transferred my wallet, phone, and a few other essentials into my new purse. "One more thing," I said to Emma as we stood outside the other bungalow. "You have to put these on." I handed her a pink sash with the words Bride-to-Be scrawled across it in glittery gold lettering, along with a gold tiara.

  "Thanks!" She slipped the sash over one shoulder, and then I helped her clip the tiara into her hair. We opened the door to meet Jamie just as Mia, Coco, and Valentina spilled out into the hallway from the room next door.

  Val and Coco wore almost identical black slip dresses. Coco had accessorized hers with a long gold chain and sparkly, black wedge sandals, while Valentina had opted for pops of color with her bright red shoes and matching lipstick. Mia wore a silky, sleeveless tunic that I was almost certain we carried in stock at Happy Hula.

  After fawning over Emma's appearance for a few moments, our group turned and headed toward the main lobby.

  "Did you get settled in okay?" Jamie asked Mia, pausing to adjust the ankle strap on one of her black pumps.

  Mia and I stopped beside her while the others continued down the hall. "I don't know if settled is an appropriate word," she replied, cutting a look at her weekend roommates. "Bunking with those two is like living on the set of a reality TV show." She rolled her eyes and picked a piece of lint off her dress.

  The Real Homewreckers of Atlanta? I suppressed a smirk. "That bad, huh?"

  Mia grimaced. "Coco and Val are BFFs in public, but behind closed doors, it's a nonstop catfight. Coco's jealous that Bryan picked Valentina over her after the whole…well, you know." She briefly met my gaze before looking away again.

  "It's okay," I told her. "You can say it. The affair."

  "Right." She lifted her eyes to mine. "Val's been rubbing it in her face. On top of dealing with that, she's been trashing you every chance she gets, and Coco hasn't exactly been singing your praises, either." She chewed her lip. "Sorry, Kaley. They really don't like you."

  I shrugged. "I can't say that I'm surprised." The animosity was mutual, anyway. I could barely stand the sight of the cheer tramps.

  We caught up to the rest of the group as they reached the elevators, and we went up a few floors to Starlight on the Lagoon, one of the island's finest restaurants. With Dante's credit card information and his blessing, I'd reserved a table at the upscale eatery to kick off Emma's bachelorette festivities. After a delicious dinner and a round of drinks, we headed back downstairs and piled into the party shuttle, which was waiting for us in the circular driveway in front of the main building. When we were all on board, Koma pulled the bus away from the resort and headed out on the town.

  I'd reserved a VIP booth at the Lanai Lounge, Aloha Lagoon's premier nightclub. The hot spot was located across town from the resort. Though it was a short distance, Koma was kind enough to drive the shuttle around a few extra blocks so that we could make the most of our time on board. He weaved in and out of traffic and rolled down the winding roads along the shoreline, letting us take in the view of the sun setting over the ocean.

  "All right, wahines," Koma called from the front of the shuttle after about twenty minutes. "Are you ladies ready to party?"

  There was a chorus of cheers from the girls as he parked in front of the Lanai Lounge. The nightclub was housed in a building designed to look like a giant totem pole. The carvings on the exterior glowed pink and green, and a neon green sign with the nightclub's name was fixed just above the entrance. A line had formed in front of the building, and loud dance music could be heard through the open door. I thanked Koma as we climbed off the bus, and he promised he'd be back to pick us up as soon as we were ready.

  "Just give me a buzz," he said, holding up his cell phone.

  As Koma pulled away in the shuttle, I led the group straight up to the bouncer, a man named Javier Mora
les. I'd met Javi at the resort, where he sometimes offered personal-training sessions to the guests on weekdays at the gym. He was also a good friend of Noa's. At six feet tall, Javi was a brick wall of muscle. He stood with his arms crossed over his barrel chest, the neon light of the nightclub's sign glinting off his shiny, bald pate.

  "Hey, Jav," I said brightly as I strolled to the front of the line.

  The brawny man looked up, and his face broke out into a grin. "Kaley! How's it going, girl?" He glanced past me and then met my gaze, eyebrow lifted in question. "Where's your man?"

  I smirked. "At home. It's ladies' night." I gestured to the rest of the crew. "We're celebrating. I've got one of the VIP booths reserved."

  Javier gave an approving nod and stepped aside to let us through the door, much to the dismay of the line of women waiting to get into the club. "You girls have fun tonight," he shouted over the chorus of protests.

  The inside of the Lanai Lounge was designed to look like a large outdoor veranda. The ceiling was painted with a mural that featured a colorful sunset on one side of the room and faded into a dark sky on the other. LED lights winked on and off like twinkling stars. Fake palm trees lined the walls, and the tables and chairs set up around the club resembled cushy patio furniture. The VIP booths were nestled in private cabanas along the far wall.

  "Let's grab a drink before we get settled," I yelled over the loud music as I gestured to the bar. We each perched on one of the wicker stools, and I reluctantly took the empty space next to Valentina. Her shoulders were hunched as she tapped vigorously on her cell phone screen. Judging by the frown tightening her glossy lips, I assumed she was engaged in a text argument with Bryan. Not my problem, I thought, though I might have felt a tiny bit of smug pleasure that my ex and his rebound fling were fighting yet again.

  Emma leaned over the bar, saying something into the ear of a tall, blond bartender with a surfboard tattoo on his left shoulder. The young man grinned and nodded before stooping to grab several shot glasses from under the counter. Em turned around to face the group. "I'd like to kick off the party tonight by buying all my favorite girls a shot."

  The bartender set down five small glasses in front of us and then handed a larger one to Emma. "A double of our best tequila for the bride-to-be," he said, bowing slightly. "It's on the house. Congratulations."

  Emma beamed at him. She took the glass and then turned to us, lifting it high in the air. "To all of you awesome ladies—and especially Kaley, for organizing what I know is gonna be an incredible vacation." Her smile widened as she clinked her glass against mine. "Here's to a weekend we'll never forget!"

  * * *

  The Friday morning sunlight filtering through the window woke me with unforgiving brightness. I tried to open my eyes but immediately squeezed them shut again, feeling a wave of pain roll through my head. Holy hangover.

  I gingerly lifted my head and squinted across the room at Emma. She was lying in the opposite direction as me, with her toes resting on a pillow and her head dangling off the foot of the bed. A lock of short brown hair hung limply over her eyes, and her complexion was edging into undead territory. She looked as bad as I felt, possibly worse. "Need the trash can?" she croaked, gesturing weakly to the little plastic waste bin on the floor beside her bed.

  "Maybe." I eased myself into a seated position, shutting my eyes as my mind replayed blurry memories of the previous night. Images of the crowded dance floor flashed through my head, making me dizzy all over again. I sank back down onto the bed and waited for the feeling to pass.

  After several more minutes, Emma and I slowly began our morning routines. While she showered, I paced around the large bedroom, overturning every accent pillow and piece of discarded clothing in search of my new purse. It was nowhere to be found. "Just great," I muttered, irritated. The bathroom door opened, and I glanced up to see Emma standing in the threshold, her body and wet hair wrapped in matching white towels. "I can't find my purse," I told her.

  Emma's dark eyes seemed to look straight through me. Though freshly showered, she still looked ill. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her forehead bunched. After a moment, she shook her head, as if snapping out of a trance, but her troubled expression remained. "Huh?" she asked, blinking at me.

  "My purse," I repeated, trying not to sound as grouchy as I felt. "I must have left it on the bus—or maybe at the club." My heart sank into my unsettled stomach. My brand-new bag. The generous gift that Emma had given me twelve short hours ago was gone.

  She grimaced. "I'm so sorry. We could try calling the club. Maybe someone turned it in."

  "Yeah, maybe," I said, though I wasn't hopeful. Some jerk had probably found it and had helped himself to the contents of my wallet. The purse would likely wind up on eBay. Another frustrated groan poured out of me. "My keys and my phone were in there, too." I was going to have to get a new cell and warn Aunt Rikki to change the locks on the house and the shop. This was turning into one expensive mistake.

  I used Emma's phone to call my own. It rang several times before my voice mail recording played. Next I went online to check my bank statement and credit card accounts. After seeing that there was no new activity, I was feeling a little more hopeful. Perhaps I'd just left my purse on the party bus rather than in the nightclub. Our driver, Koma, was a preacher's son, and he seemed trustworthy. If he'd found my belongings, they'd be safely stowed at the office of Gabby's Island Adventures until I went by to claim them. I called and left the owner, Gabby LeClair, a message to see if my bag had been turned in and then gave Emma her phone back before taking my own quick shower. Until I heard back from Gabby or Koma, I'd try not to stress too much. This weekend was about celebrating Emma, and I couldn't let my drunken blunder ruin the fun.

  Emma and I met up with the others at the resort's breakfast buffet. Jamie had been scheduled to work a half shift as the morning cashier at Happy Hula, but she dropped by to grab a quick bite with us on her way into work.

  "Good morning," she said brightly as she took a seat next to me at our table. She spread a pat of melted butter on a warm coconut muffin and then took a bite. "Mmm," she moaned, closing her eyes. "This is perfection." She waved over a server carrying a drink tray. "I'd love a coffee, please." She glanced around the table at the rest of us. "What about you ladies? Anyone ready for their first mimosa of the day?"

  "No," Coco groaned loudly.

  "No thanks." Emma held up a hand to wave off Jamie's offer. "I'll stick with water. We've got a long weekend ahead of us, so I should probably pace myself and rehydrate."

  "Same here," Mia agreed.

  Jamie gave me a knowing look as I also declined the cocktail. "Suit yourselves," she chirped in her impossibly cheery tone. I loved her to death, but her ability to recover from a wild night of partying in ten seconds flat was just plain unfair.

  "Could you not talk so loud?" Coco groused. She rubbed her eyes, smearing what was left of last night's mascara. "My head is killing me."

  "I guess Valentina decided to sleep through breakfast," Emma said, looking around the table.

  Mia glanced to the empty seat next to hers and then shrugged one shoulder. "I haven't seen her this morning. She was already up and out of the room when we woke up."

  "Maybe she got up early and hit the gym," Coco said.

  Emma grimaced. "How can she work out first thing this morning after all the drinks she had last night?"

  "I went for a three-mile jog and took a sunrise yoga class this morning," Jamie said, still sounding annoyingly perky.

  Coco shot her a dark look. "Maybe Val went to Bryan's room," she mumbled.

  I glanced over at her, but she quickly dropped her gaze down to her coffee mug, lifting it from the table and taking a sip. I shrugged. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to have a break from Valentina myself.

  I hadn't planned any special activities for the morning, having assumed that the girls would want a few hours to recover from our wild night before we joined Jamie for some snor
keling later that afternoon. Just as I'd suspected, everyone agreed that we should take it easy until lunchtime.

  Once we'd finished our breakfast, Jamie went to work her shift at the boutique while the rest of us changed into our swimsuits for a morning of relaxing by the pool. Valentina still hadn't returned to the room she was sharing with Mia and Coco, so they left a note to let her know where she could find us.

  Though I'd known he wasn't working the early shift, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when we arrived at the swimming pool and Noa wasn't sitting in the lifeguard chair. In his place was Remy Hendricks, a blond, bronze-skinned Brit who closely resembled a young Daniel Craig.

  "Mmm," Coco murmured as she settled onto the lounger closest to his post. She lowered her sunglasses and stared at Remy. "Maybe I should pretend to drown so he'll give me mouth-to-mouth."

  I fought back a smirk. "I don't think you're his type." I laid my beach towel across one of the loungers and waved at Remy, who returned the gesture with a broad grin.

  "What? And you think you are?" Coco challenged. "What do you have that I don't?"

  Humility? Class? A personality? Take your pick. I'd been about to explain that Remy preferred men, but her attitude rubbed me the wrong way. "You know what?" I said, forcing a chipper tone. "You're right. Maybe you two would hit it off. Why don't you go talk to him?"

  Coco lifted her chin. "I think I will," she said snootily. She smoothed her bleached blonde hair and adjusted the straps of her green bikini top. Then she riffled around in her bag, pulling out a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick labeled Mother Pucker. After applying a fresh coat of the gloss, she dropped the makeup back into her purse and rose to her feet. Untying the sarong from around her waist, she dropped it onto the lounger and strutted toward the hunky lifeguard, seductively swaying her hips. I flinched when I caught an eyeful of her ample backside through her thong.