Handbags & Homicide

by Anne Marie Stoddard

  Valentina's purse was gone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "So, you're telling me that you had evidence, but someone broke in here and stole it?" Detective Ray stared at me from under furrowed brows. Though his tone was even, his rigid posture suggested that he wasn't happy. "What was it that you had?"

  I gulped. This isn't your fault, I reassured myself. It's not like you staged the break-in. "Valentina Cruz's purse," I said, trying to keep my nervousness out of my tone. "Gabby LeClair called this morning to return what she thought was my bag, which had been left on the bus Friday night—but, as it turns out, it actually belonged to Val. I think that's why my purse was with her when she died. She must have mixed up the two and grabbed mine off the shuttle by mistake." I swallowed again. "But someone stole hers out my room."

  "Did you go through the contents of the purse?" The detective's lips formed a firm line.

  I flinched. "I took a peek, just to determine whose bag it actually was," I said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "There was quite a lot of cash in her wallet." I sucked in a breath. "And there was a receipt in there for a home pregnancy test." I hadn't wanted to tell him about the test, hoping he'd find the receipt himself when he examined the contents of the purse. However, considering the bag had been stolen, I didn't have much of a choice.

  If the news shocked the detective, his stoic expression didn't show it. "Let me get this straight," he said, folding his arms over his broad chest. "You had possession of a purse belonging to a murder victim, and you riffled through it, getting your fingerprints all over its contents?"

  Well, when you put it that way… I grimaced.

  "So, you've contaminated potential evidence, which is now missing," he continued, his mouth drawing down in a frown.

  I suddenly felt queasy. I'd wiped my prints off of her wallet but not the other contents I'd examined. All thoughts of covering my tracks had flown out the window at the sight of the drugstore receipt. From the detective's perspective, I'd just hampered his investigation.

  "I was just trying to help," I said quietly.

  Detective Ray sighed. "Next time you happen to stumble upon potential evidence, please call me before you touch anything." He gave me a pointed look.

  "Of course," I said quickly.

  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "While I'm here, I do have a question for you," he said, eying me closely. The suspicion in his voice was hard to miss.

  I felt my mouth go dry. He still thinks I might have done it, doesn't he? "What would you like to know?" I asked, forcing an even tone.

  He flipped to a new page in his little notepad. "Can you tell me why your hair was found on the victim's body?"

  My blood chilled. "I, er, don't know," I replied shakily. I thought for a moment. "I guess Valentina must have used my hairbrush. It was in my purse."

  "I see." He didn't sound convinced. He wrote something down in his notepad.

  "Detective," I said to get his attention as something else occurred to me.

  He looked up from his notepad with a look of forced patience. "Yes?"

  "Was Val's phone found with her body?"

  The question seemed to take him by surprise. "Her phone?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  I nodded. "It wasn't in her purse," I explained, suddenly feeling sheepish. I didn't want to overstep my boundaries, but the fact that it had been missing from her bag was still nagging at me. I waited silently as Detective Ray studied me for a few more moments. Finally, he shook his head.

  "Miss Cruz's phone was not found on her person," he said, still eying me warily. "But if you have any information as to its whereabouts, you should tell me."

  "I don't," I said quickly.

  "Very well." Ray glanced down at his notepad again. "Do you want to file a report?" he asked, using his free hand to gesture toward the mess.

  I shook my head. "No. Aside from Val's bag, I don't think anything else is missing." Though I'd only done a cursory search through my scattered belongings, everything had appeared to be there. I'd called Emma to inform her of the break-in, but she hadn't answered her phone. My gut told me that none of her possessions would be missing either. It seemed that whoever had entered our room had been looking for the purse—but how had they known I'd had it? And why had they wanted it?

  I mentally retraced my steps from the time I'd retrieved the bag from Gabby's Island Adventures to the moment I'd hidden it in the drawer of the little bedside dresser. Everyone in the wedding party had seen it. I'd had it with me at Loco Moco Café when I'd sat down with Bryan and all the other groomsmen. Bryan had even commented on the purse, hadn't he? He'd thought that it was Valentina's. Coco had also seemed to take notice of the bag when I'd returned to the room. Mia, Emma, and Dante had been there too—maybe one of them had also seen it. But before that… I'd bumped into Andrew Ryan on my way to our room, which had set off my whole afternoon of chaos. The thought of Val's stalker called forth another important memory: the pictures I'd found in his briefcase.

  I met Detective Ray's gaze, trying to contain my excitement. "There's actually something else you need to see," I told him, pulling out my phone. I tapped at the screen, locating the photo I'd snapped in Andrew Ryan's room. I held it up to show him.

  The detective looked puzzled as he glanced from me to the image on my phone. "What am I looking at, exactly?"

  "A photo taken by Valentina Cruz's stalker," I said matter-of-factly. "His name is Andrew Ryan, and he's staying right here at the resort."

  Once again, if this was news to Detective Ray, he gave no indication. "How did you get this photo?" he asked, frowning.

  Uh-oh. If I told him that I'd sneaked into Andrew's room, he really wouldn't be happy.

  Thankfully, the beep of a key card against the door scanner pulled his attention toward the room's entrance. Emma strolled in, followed by Dante. "Kaley, we just met those bakers you recommended. Their cake was to die for—" She stopped short, eyes going wide with alarm as she took in the disastrous state of our suite. "What happened?" she asked, her voice shrill.

  Dante moved closer to his fiancée, slipping one beefy, protective arm around her. "Who did this?" he asked, looking from me to the detective.

  "We don't know," I said, grimacing. "Someone broke in while I was out of the room with Jamie."

  Emma's lips trembled. "Oh no," she whispered.

  "None of Miss Ross's or Ms. Kalua's belongings appear to be missing," Detective Ray said, and I felt a smidge of relief that he didn't mention Val's purse.

  Dante's expression grew stormy. "So someone just came in and trashed the place for no reason?" he asked skeptically.

  Emma pulled out of his grasp. "Let me check just to be sure everything's here," she said, her voice frantic. "I brought several pieces of expensive jewelry with me—and my new wedding dress was in the closet." She blew out a shaky breath and set to the task of combing through her own scattered possessions. Dante joined her.

  Detective Ray turned to me. "I expect you to send me that photo," he said in a low voice, "and then delete it from your phone." Though he didn't press me to reveal how I'd obtained the image, his stony expression told me that I'd better not let him catch me snooping around any other suspects' rooms or I'd really be in hot water.

  "Of course," I agreed, instantly forwarding the image to his phone, though I didn't delete it as he'd instructed. Just in case.

  "Nothing seems to be missing," Emma confirmed after a few minutes, her relief evident in her tone. Her face crumpled. "I just can't imagine why someone would sneak into our room and trash it," she said, her lower lip trembling. "I'm starting to think this trip is cursed."

  "I'm sorry for all the trouble, Miss Ross," the detective said in a sympathetic tone. "Would you like to file a report? Kaley has already declined the option."

  She frowned but shook her head. "No, I guess not, since nothing is missing. Thank you for your time, Detective."

  Ray gave a polite nod before seeing himself out o
f the room. As soon as he was gone, Emma collapsed onto the bed. "Who would do something like this?" she asked, glancing helplessly at the mess.

  I shook my head. "I don't know. The patio door was open. Maybe it was just some bored kids looking to get into some trouble." Though I hated lying to her, I hated even more the thought that she'd blame me if she knew the truth. I wasn't sure what Emma and Dante would think if they knew I'd hidden Val's purse in our room rather than giving it to Bryan or taking it straight to the police station.

  Emma stared at the open glass door that led to the lanai. "I'm pretty sure I forgot to lock it when I was out there this morning," she said after a few moments. "I'm so sorry, Kaley. This is my fault." I tried to ignore the pang of guilt as I watched her begin to pick up her strewn clothing and place it back into her suitcase. Dante and I joined in, and within ten minutes, we had the suite looking back to normal.

  "I'm going to take a shower," Emma said. She turned to Dante. "I need to get ready for the luau, but I'll head up to your room around six thirty." She glanced back at me. "Were you able to get tickets for the guys?"

  "Yeah." I nodded. After a phone call where I'd pleaded with Juls Kekoa, she'd managed to scrounge up some extra tickets that were normally reserved for resort employees only. In return, I was going to let her take advantage of my manager's discount on her next shopping trip to Happy Hula. While resort employees received ten percent off their purchases, Happy Hula workers got double that deducted from our bill.

  Emma gave me a small smile. "Thanks, Kaley. I knew I could count on you." She stood on tiptoe to give Dante a goodbye smooch on the cheek. "Bye, sweetie."

  "See you later, boo," he said, squeezing her gently. He walked toward the door. As soon as Emma had disappeared into the bathroom, however, he turned around. "Kaley, we need to talk," he said quietly, his dark eyes boring into mine.

  My stomach clenched. "Sure."

  Dante crossed the room and sat down on the love seat just as the sound of running water came from the bathroom. I took a seat across the coffee table from him, folding myself into one of the chairs. "What's up?" I asked, trying not to sound as anxious as I felt.

  Dante studied me through narrowed eyes for what felt like an eternity. "You're one of Emma's best friends," he began, his expression softening. "And she and I wouldn't be together if it weren't for you."

  Uh-oh. "I sense a but coming," I said, feeling my chest tighten.

  Dante met my gaze, his eyes hard. "Look, I'm not stupid. I know some little punk kids didn't break into your room. Did you have something to do with this?"

  I winced but didn't respond.

  Dante sighed. "It's nothing personal, Kaley. It's just…" He shot a furtive glance toward the bathroom door. "I'm worried about Em. She's going through a lot right now, and she doesn't need any more stress." He looked back at me. "So whatever's going on, just promise me you won't pull her into the middle of it. Please."

  "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I would never let anything happen to Emma. You know that."

  Dante nodded curtly. "Good." He rose from the love seat and walked toward the door. "Be careful, Kaley." He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

  I stared after him, frowning. The blunt exchange with Dante had left me feeling a little raw—and at the same time, a little suspicious. There was no denying that he really cared about Emma, but his warning seemed rather ominous. Was it purely out of concern for his fiancée, or was there something more behind his words? Maybe he'd been trying to discourage me from looking for Valentina's killer. Could he be trying to protect someone? His best man, Bryan—or his cousin, Coco, maybe?

  My phone dinged with a series of incoming texts from Jamie.

  Sorry about earlier! How'd it go with Noa?

  At my apartment getting ready for the luau, but I can jet back over if you need me.

  A knot formed in my stomach at the memory of my fight with Noa.

  Not great, I typed back. Might need you to bring ice cream. Or wine. Lots of wine.

  Another message from Jamie popped up.

  Ouch. That bad, huh? I'll be there in fifteen.

  I scrolled through my contacts until I landed on Noa's number. It had been nearly an hour and a half since I'd left an apology on his voice mail, and he still hadn't returned my call. I stared at the screen for a few moments, silently psyching myself up. Just call him back and tell him you're sorry. I nervously pressed the Send button, sucking in a painful breath as it went to voice mail after the first ring. I didn't leave a message this time. Noa would call me back when he was ready. I hope.

  Feeling dejected, I made my way over to the closet mirror and distracted myself with combing the tangles out of my long hair and freshening my makeup. I'd just finished touching up my lip gloss when my phone rang and Jamie's name popped up on the screen. "You almost here?" I asked as I answered.

  "Kaley," Jamie practically hissed, her tone low and urgent.

  A knot began to form in my stomach. "What's wrong?"

  "I left my watch in my work cubby at the boutique, so I dropped by on the way to your room. I was just passing back through the courtyard when I heard a commotion at the pool bar. Bryan and Coco are over there, and they're going at it. It's like a scene from a reality TV drama." Even as she spoke, I could hear shouting in the background.

  The hair on my arms prickled. "What are they fighting about?"

  "I'm not sure," she replied in that same hushed voice. "But she keeps calling him a liar." She gasped. "Coco just sloshed her drink in his face!"

  "Yikes," I whispered.

  "Jimmy Toki just showed up. He's separating them." Jamie was quiet for a few moments. "Bryan's storming off," she said finally. "Coco's not following. It looks like she's actually heading your way."

  I glanced toward the door that connected my room to the adjacent one. "Hurry over. Let's try to talk to her and see what their fight was about."

  "On my way," Jamie replied before hanging up.

  About thirty seconds later, the door to the other room slammed so hard that it shook the wall. I could hear Coco fuming as she stomped around. Whatever she'd been arguing with Bryan about had left her pretty steamed.

  The sound of running water cut off in the bathroom. "Is everything okay?" Emma called. "I thought I heard a door slam."

  "It's fine," I replied. "I'm heading to Mia and Coco's room for a bit." I gently opened the door connecting the two rooms and found Coco sprawled across the bed, a box of tissues beside her. She lifted her head as I entered, and I saw the dark mascara stains trailing down her cheeks.

  "What do you want?" she groused in between sniffles. Her head dropped back onto the pillow.

  "I heard the door slam and wanted to make sure everything was okay," I said honestly.

  "No, everything is not okay," she shrilled. There was a slur to her words. Coco was drunk. I might be able to use that to my advantage.

  "I know I'm not your favorite person," I admitted. "But you look like you could use a friend." I sat down on the foot of her bed. "Wanna talk about it?" I offered.

  Coco rolled over on the bed and grabbed the tissues. She brought one to her nose and blew loudly. I fought back a look of disgust as she flung the used Kleenex onto the floor. "Do you really want to talk with me about your stupid ex-husband?" she asked skeptically.

  "If there's anyone who knows how much of a slimy jerk he can be, it's me," I replied dryly. "What did Bryan do now?"

  Coco blinked at me through soggy eyes. Then she shook her head. "Men," she wailed before burying her face into the pillow.

  "Knock, knock," came a soft voice. I turned around to find Jamie standing at the door that connected this room to the one that Emma and I were sharing. "Emma said you were in here. I brought the wine," she said, holding up a bottle of Merlot.

  "Wine?" Coco sat up again and eagerly eyed the bottle.

  I nodded. "You're not the only one with boy trouble," I told her. I grabbed the bottle and corkscrew from Jamie and then
crossed the room to retrieve several plastic water cups from atop the small refrigerator. I poured three drinks, keeping one for myself and passing the others to Coco and Jamie. "Cheers," I said, tapping my cup against Coco's.

  She took several big gulps. "Top it off," she slurred, holding out her cup. She watched me curiously. "What kind of boy trouble are you having?"

  I sighed. Maybe if I was honest with her, she'd return the favor—especially if she was as drunk as she seemed. "I got into a big fight earlier with the guy I'm seeing. It was my fault," I admitted. "I called him and tried to apologize, but I haven't been able to get in touch with him."

  "Sorry, girl," Jamie said, coming to stand beside me. As if reading my mind, she glanced at Coco. "What about you?" she asked, giving the drunk woman an empathetic smile.

  Coco drained half her cup. "Men are liars," she spat. "All of them. First they tell you they want to be with you, and then they start dating your friend. And now—" Her words were cut off by a hiccup. Coco looked at me, and I could see the hurt and confusion in her teary eyes. "I saw Bryan on the beach the night that Val was killed," she blurted.

  "You did?" I struggled to contain my excitement. My plan was working! The intoxicated woman was ready to confess what she knew.

  Coco nodded guilty. "I followed them toward the beach from the resort bar. I didn't see what happened." She hiccupped again. "I lost sight of them, so I headed toward the pier." She took a sip of wine. "I ran into Bryan when I was heading back toward the courtyard. He wanted to know why I was out there, and I admitted that I'd been looking for him." She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and then looked at me with a hurt expression. "I just had to know why he chose Val over me. She was terrible to him, always nagging and pouting when she didn't get her way. I would have treated him so much better." Coco sighed. "Bryan told me we should save our talk for when I wasn't so drunk. He walked me back to the courtyard and told me to go sleep it off."