Deadly Bubbles in the Wine (Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Book 4)

by Mary Jo Burke

  He smiled at me, and all I had been through for the last few days faded. I gazed at my future. Life traveled at turbo speed, and I decided to grab my piece and hold on tight. Maybe Fate made me fly solo to Hawaii to meet Liam, or she decided to play the biggest practical joke ever on me. Either way, I signed on for a wild ride.

  "We need to poke around the pool at the Blue Island Motel or check the lost and found for your phone. If the police had it, you'd likely be in jail. It could be viewed as the perfect proof you were together when Elliott was murdered. To most people, it's like losing a limb. They're lost without their phones," he said as he checked his own.

  "I've lasted almost four days."

  "I'm very proud of you," he said as he patted my shoulder. "You'll need a disguise, and I hate myself for saying this, but I'll ask Gran for a suggestion."

  We trooped over to Ellen's house, and Liam explained his idea.

  "Simone, pump up your cleavage," Ellen said as she gave her girls a boost.

  "Unless you've got a flotation device to fit in my bra, this is as big as they get," I said, and Liam laughed out loud. "One more peep out of you, and your personal parts are next."

  He sucked in his lips and put his hands up.

  "I'll handle the costume," Ellen said as she took my hand.

  I knew I wasn't going to like this part.

  Ellen fitted a blonde wig on my head, slathered a palette of makeup on my face, soldered plastic, red tips on my nails, and stretched the skin from my rib cage up in order to bolster my perky breasts. She referred to them as perky, not me. She swaddled me in a red sequin halter top and tight white shorts. My panties defied description as clothing. Lacy strips held together by a stitch or two folded into my unmentionables. Ellen believed in being thorough and authentic to the character. I insisted on sensible shoes. I didn't want to end up in the ER with a broken ankle in this getup.

  "I pay for the phone. I could access the record of calls," I said in desperation.

  "You need the physical phone in your pocket and far away from the crime scene," Liam said matter-of-factly. "I asked Nick Woodfield, the head landscaper and gardener at the Aloha Lagoon, if he knew the groundskeeper at the Blue Island Motel. He did and made a call. I'm going to poke through the bushes around the pool. Either Elliott tossed the phone or it flew out of his hand before he hit the concrete. That's my theory."

  Plausible and worth the effort to retrieve any not-my-fault incriminating evidence. Liam excelled at espionage, and that was a good thing, right?

  We walked out to Liam's car.

  "Wait a minute. I want a picture of you," Ellen said as she ran out of the house and raised her phone.

  "Don't you dare," I said as I channeled my mother's authoritative tone and pointed at her.

  Ellen stopped in her tracks, and I got in the car.

  "Where have you been all my life?" Liam asked as he started the engine.

  "Screwing up and wasting time, but no more 'little miss nice girl.' Someone is messing with me, and it needs to stop," I said, more to myself than to him.

  "I've been wondering where your true self has been hiding. All you needed was to tart up a bit," he said.

  "Careful, son. I'm in a foul mood and the star of a Dali painting. Behind this mask, I'm capable of anything."

  Good thing I hadn't been drinking. I may have been inclined to act on some of these weird urges.

  "I'm available for all the antics you have in mind," he said as he pulled into a parking spot at the Blue Island Motel.

  If he only knew how many times I had undressed and soaped him up in my mind. I looked like the cheapest flavor of the month. What if someone propositioned me? I reminded myself to focus on one bad idea at a time as I opened my car door.

  The Blue Island needed a few more coats of peeling paint to give it a condemned building look. The sign had more burned out bulbs than lit ones. The asphalt drive had potholes and tufts of weeds growing through it.

  "Why is this called the Blue Island Motel?" I asked.

  "Maybe 'No Tell Motel' and 'Don't Care Motel' were taken. It's still three hundred dollars a night because it's close to a beach."

  "Are you kidding? I half expect Norman Bates decked out in a housecoat and gray hair bun to round the corner with a knife, ready to strike."

  "He couldn't afford to stay here, so you're safe."

  "Very reassuring."

  "Meet back here in fifteen minutes," he said as he circled around to me. "Either they'll let you look or not. Don't press it."

  "I know—be flirty and flighty. I've got this covered," I said as I headed to the entrance.

  I sauntered up to the front desk and rang the bell. An older woman wearing bifocals answered my call.

  Damn it, I preferred a young guy eager to catch a glimpse of Ellen's handiwork.

  "May I help you?" she asked.

  Give me a hint about what story she would believe. I was here yesterday with a friend and may have dropped my phone in the lobby, or I met a guy in the bar last night and forgot my phone there? Probably the most reasonable story was that I charged by the hour and needed a room for work.

  "Hi, I was here yesterday with some friends and may have left my phone. May I check your lost and found for it?" I asked in a soft voice.

  "No phones have been turned in here. You can check at the bar," she said.

  I smiled and hiked to the bar. My fifteen minutes of infamy were almost up. The bar was on the other side of the lobby. I should keep walking right out the nearest exit. Instead, I stopped dead.

  The bald overweight man from the food carts sat in the lobby scrolling through his phone. He could be a killer, and I should call the police. I defied all logic and common sense as I detoured and joined him. He looked up with a hint of interest. I let the disgust wash over me and smiled as I sat.

  He set the phone down and leaned back in his chair, legs spread. Was this his lap dance posture?

  "Mind if I wait here for my friend?" I asked.

  I didn't need his permission, but it worked as a conversation starter.

  "Little lady, you're welcome to stay as long as you want," he said with a Southern drawl.

  Aloha, y'all.

  "I love your accent. Where are you from?" I asked as I crossed my legs.

  "Georgia. How about your sweet self?" he asked as his gaze stayed on my chest.

  Ellen would be so pleased.

  "Illinois. Are you here for work or relaxation?" I asked as I leaned in.

  I had all of his attention now.

  "Which one do you prefer?" he asked as he smiled with perfectly white capped teeth.

  "Excuse me, miss, but are you a guest here?" asked my not-at-all-helpful front desk lady.

  "I am, and I'm conversing with this young lady," my main suspect said.

  "Your name, sir?" she asked as she waved over a security guard who had suddenly made an appearance.

  "Silas Ridgemoor, and I'll be checking out immediately," he said as he headed to the elevator.

  "Sir, my apologies," she said as she hurried after him.

  I caught sight of Liam by the entrance. His eyebrows were knit together so tight that I expected a scarf to spout out of his nose. I strolled past the guard and gave him my best flirty smile.

  "I get off at ten," he whispered.

  I bet he did.

  I giggled as I accepted his business card. I lengthened my stride but not my pace. I blew him a kiss before I left and then sprinted to Liam's car. He tailed right behind me. He clicked open the doors, and we jumped in.

  "What did I say about fifteen minutes?" he asked as he started the car.

  "Silas Ridgemoor from Georgia is a guest here and is the bald overweight man haunting the food court parking lot and my dreams," I said as I whipped off the wig. "He's threatening to check out, so we need to sit tight and watch the door."

  Struck speechless and absorbing the fact that I may have cracked the case, Liam flipped off the car.

  "Well played," he sai
d after a two-minute delay.

  "This tart is not as dumb as she looks or acts," I said as I checked the makeup overload filling in the creases of my face. "I'm going to need a chisel to get this gunk off."

  "I prefer a more natural you, but I do approve of the enhancements," he said with a smile.

  "You do know why women have breasts, don't you?" I asked as I tried to cover myself up with my hands.

  "To drive men crazy."

  "You don't need much help," I said as I folded my arms over my protruding cleavage and glanced out the window. "That's him."

  Silas emerged from the hotel sans luggage, and Liam pulled me face first down into his lap.

  "What are you doing?" I asked his thigh.

  "Silas thinks you're a loose woman. You're busy making ends meet, as it were. Plus, I don't want him to see you again," Liam said as he rested his hand on my bare back.

  I was glad my father wasn't alive to witness this particular episode of my life for so many reasons. One being that I enjoyed the view.

  "Is Silas leaving?" I asked as I turned my head sideways to see Liam's face.

  "No, but he did put something in or took something out of his car's trunk," Liam said as he typed a message into his phone.

  The intensity of Liam's expression seemed to record all going on before him. My only focus was the warmth of his hand on my back. He gently stroked me back and forth. I would fall asleep on our surveillance assignment. I'd nestle into Liam and wake when he'd caught the bad guy.

  Liam started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. I eased back into my seat as he turned onto the highway.

  "Are you going to follow him?" I asked.

  "No. The police have been alerted, and I don't want to give Silas any ideas about connecting the dots between you and Elliott."

  He was sexy when he considered all the angles and did the right thing.

  "Did you find anything by the pool?" I asked as I buckled my seatbelt.

  "Describe exactly what Silas was doing when you sat down," he said.

  "He was scrolling through messages on his phone."

  Liam concentrated on the road and made all the proper turns, but it was deceiving. He was dissecting the new evidence and categorizing each bit. He was full-on James Bond now.

  I hoped all points didn't lead to me.

  He parked in front of his house and rushed around to open my door. He offered me his hand to help me out and then wrapped me up in his arms. Some kisses were too hard, others too wet, but this one was just right. Enough to entice, invite, stir, and relax me. I floated away with him, letting reality fade. The two of us stood alone in the universe, connecting on all cosmic levels.

  Liam backed me into his house without breaking stride or lip-lock. I had dreams like this, especially after reading a steamy romance. The winsome, brilliant, beautiful heroine seduces the hunky, rich guy, and they spend an epic night of pleasure together. The next morning in bed, they enjoy a sugar-laden breakfast where he proclaims his eternal love and devotion.

  My actual love life had been regulated to the large-print reference section. A bit dusty and only noticed when all other alternatives had been exhausted. Now, I had the lusted-after guy squeezing the stuffing out of me.

  He broke away and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  "Please change out of this outfit immediately. It's having a primal effect on me," he said a bit out of breath.

  "Did you want to help me?" I asked. Insert winking face emoji.

  The red halter had worked its magic on my libido too by ripping away any pretense of decorum. His eyes grew darker as he took a step back. He inhaled deeply through his nose and then exhaled slowly.

  When did rejection get sexy? Or had I released his inner beast and was about to be ravaged? Please be number two.

  My lack of experience let my imagination drag me to vixen village. Confused, I stood still, awaiting further instructions. Liam put his hand in his pocket and produced a phone. I recognized the raised polka dots.

  My phone had returned from the netherworld. I jumped on him and squealed. I thought we were going to have sex, but if not, this was a wonderful surprise.

  Way to bury the lead, fella.

  "I'll give you two some alone time," Liam said. "Delete nothing. Elliott may have used it."

  I switched it on. It came to life in full message mania—forty texts and five calls from Lizzie, and work sent four emails and three calls. A couple of unknown numbers were in the call log and an ominous text sent by Elliott.

  Drop dead, old man.

  I let the chill work its way down my spine.

  "I'd like to call my friend Lizzie and catch up," I said and pretended nothing had happened.

  I strolled down the hall to his bedroom and closed the door. I sat and hit Lizzie's contact information. I didn't calculate the time difference and didn't care.

  "There you are," she said. "After some guy with a Southern accent answered your phone, I was ready to call the police."

  Silas had had my phone and ditched it by the bushes? Had he lugged Elliott's dead body out of the pool and carried him to the shore? Would Lizzie be called to testify against him?

  "When was that? What did he say?" I asked.

  "Yesterday. He said hello and then hung up. Where are you?"

  I took a deep breath and admitted all. My confession was met with silence.

  "Lizzie, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going to Hawaii for my honeymoon."

  "I'm so relieved you didn't marry Elliott the village idiot. So someone killed him?" she asked matter-of-factly.

  "How can you be so calm? I'm a mess."

  "You didn't do it, and you're still single. A win-win. Did you tell your mom?"

  She'd be disappointed in me, which was worse than her yelling at me. I loved her, and she loved me, but we bumped heads over guys. She always said, "Don't settle." In Elliott's case, it was clear I had and hadn't wanted to admit it.

  "No. She hated Elliott ever since he thought she was my maid."

  My mom was Hispanic and proud of her heritage. I got my rich brown eyes from her. I wished I had gotten her slim build too, but I loved sugar. The red hair, fair skin, and height were all gifts from my Irish dad.

  "I still can't believe she didn't drop kick him out the window," Lizzie said.

  Me too. She'd given Elliott an icy stare as he'd tried to joke about it. He'd later sent her flowers to apologize. I'd never mentioned my mom's allergies.

  "Bel Ortiz-Ryan shows more restraint since she became a grandmother and took up yoga," I said.

  "And boxing gives her washboard abs and Hulk-strength arms. Remember when you two did the charity walk and everyone thought you were sisters?"

  "Yes, especially since they thought I was the older one."

  "Your mom doesn't have gray hair, and she's looked the same to me for twenty years."

  Nothing fazed Bel—she took all obstacles in stride. She had hinted at her escape from a difficult childhood. My grandmother was abused by her husband and had sent my mother north to her sister's home. Bel's survival skills had been honed at a young age.

  "My dad used to tease her, saying she drank a magic potion for eternal youth," I said.

  "I miss that guy. He would have run Elliott off and talked sense into you. He's the last person on Earth who made you listen."

  My dad meeting Elliott? Oil and lukewarm water didn't mix or marry oil's daughter.

  "He had common sense and no judgmental issues like another person I know," I said, pointing my finger at the phone.

  "Find three people who approved of Elliott on any level, and I'll concede my point," Lizzie said, knowing she was right.

  "Stop going all legalese on me. Next you'll charge me by the hour."

  Lizzie was a successful acquisitions and mergers attorney.

  "You couldn't afford me. Speaking of which, have you hired a lawyer?"

  "Yes. She sat in when I was interviewed by the police."

  And had
dated the current focus of my lust, and her father had a thing with the gorgeous guy's grandmother. It was a small island after all.

  "Good. Luckily, you don't have killer eyes."

  She hadn't seen me after my scotch session with Ellen.

  "Lizzie, there's no such thing."

  "Hang around a couple of courtrooms and take a good look at the defendants and their lawyers. What else can I do for you?"

  Dial time back and force me to walk away from Elliott, but then I wouldn't have met Liam. Cruel and beautiful Fate tossed me from hand to hand.

  "Check on my apartment, and don't tell my mom," I said.

  "If she finds out I withheld information from her, please bury me under a splendid cherry blossom tree along the Tidal Basin."

  "If Bel's so inclined, there'll be nothing left to bury. My mom is a thorough warrior. You were with me at her last fight. Even the guys were scared."

  She had boxed at a charity event and knocked out two opponents. One drunk guy had implied that the fights had been fixed. He'd taken a swing at my mom, and she'd decked him. Bel had then been surrounded by her fellow security guards and a few Chicago policemen who'd escorted her out. She'd received an apology from the jerk too. He'd sported a black eye and a fat lip, neither attributed to her. Seemed he had continued to dis her, and her friends had taken offense.

  "Because your mom has killer eyes, a granite jaw, and a lethal left hook. And makes the best mole sauce in Chicago and the tri-state area," Lizzie said.

  "Now I'm hungry."

  And missed my mom and Lizzie.

  "So when are you coming home?"

  "A couple more days. I'd like this case solved before I leave. Plus, Deborah was here and I quit."

  "My little sleuth, stay out of trouble, and let the police handle it. I'm sorry you got mixed up with Niven and crew, but you'll be better off. Buy me a cheesy souvenir, and I'll try to keep your mom off your scent. Love ya," she said.

  "Love you too," I said as I hung up.

  I ached for home, even my mom's ire. I needed to wind up my disastrous vacation and kiss the Bentleys good-bye. My emotional roller coaster had brought me down again. Nothing to look forward to and a lot to leave behind, I was stuck in the middle.

  I debated claiming Elliott's body. Unless someone from his family stepped forward, he'd be buried in a pauper's grave. I shouldn't care, but I did. My credit card would curse me, but maybe it would set my heart free.