Murder and a Blue Hawaii (A Blue Hawaii Mystery Book 1)

by Elizabeth Autumn

  Sophia turned around, surprised. Her expression settled into wry amusement when she saw me.

  “You were trying to cover up the sound of the parrot with ambient sounds,” I said. “Personally, I would have gone with death metal. Nothing’s going to cover up the bird’s screams like having other screams drown it out.”

  “All right, so I have a bird! I needed my pirate costume to be authentic.” Sophia sighed. “I got the bird before Bentley’s death. I figured I might as well go through with the contest. What do I have to lose?”

  “The money that your brother owed you.” I grinned. “We’re here for the same reason. What do you say we forget about who owes who money and just have some fun?”

  Sophia glared at me. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

  I didn’t really think so. “Where did you get the parrot?”

  “I’m borrowing him from a friend,” said Sophia.

  “A ‘friend.’ Sure,” I said.

  Sophia put a hand on her hip. “I consider people I’m friendly with to be friends.”

  “But your ‘friend’ also owes you a favor, am I right?”

  “That’s not relevant,” Sophia muttered.

  The parrot shrieked again and I covered my ears. “Why does your bird do that?”

  Sophia groaned. “Kiwi’s owner taught him to scream bloody murder for the fun of it. If you ask me, that’s worse than losing the love of your life over something that could have been avoided. For me, anyway. Probably not for him.”

  I was intrigued. “Who are you talking about?”

  Sophia blinked wide eyes. “No one. Excuse me, I have to get into line.” She hurried off before I could ask her more questions. Not that she would have answered them.

  I ran my finger against my head, finding the marker I had tucked behind my ear a few minutes ago. Why had I done that again?

  Scanning the scene before me, my eyes locked onto Landon. More specifically, his makeshift boots.

  I ran up to him, remembering why I had grabbed the black permanent marker.

  “Hold still,” I told him, as I coloring the rubber bands holding up the black towels on his legs. I stepped back and admired my work when I finished. “There. It blends in more.”

  “Is everyone ready?” Madison suddenly called out, having gotten the music ready.

  I stood behind a table of audience members, feeling a drop of water land on my arm. I glanced up at the sky, where rain was beginning to steadily trickle down on us.

  With everyone in position, Madison pressed play.

  The music was surprisingly loud for such a small device. The sound carried well, with the upbeat song setting the mood for a fun evening. A few passerby on the beach even came by to watch when they heard the music.

  The contestants walked the runway, some stiff and awkward, and others clearly at home on a stage. After a guy wearing a speedo and pirate hat stepped away, it was Landon’s turn.

  He strode down the sandy path with confidence. He alternated looking left and right, catching the eye of individuals, and occasionally giving them a wink or nod.

  Landon wasn’t walking or acting like a high-fashion runway model, with a strong stare and deliberate steps. He was smooth, warm, and friendly, like a homecoming king greeting his people.

  And his people ate it up.

  I think Landon could have been wearing a clown costume or something else that was wildly inaccurate for the contest and he would still have had excellent odds. His blue eyes sparkled as he paused at the end, striking a confident pose.

  “You’re a winner,” squawked Sophia’s parrot.

  Sophia subsequently rolled her eyes. “That’s all he says. ‘You’re a winner.’ He’s got screaming and that one phrase down,” she said, to no one in particular.

  Landon bowed and waved as he stepped off the runway, to much applause. The judges even clapped appreciatively.

  Okay, the judges had been clapping for everyone. But, still. I was biased—I wanted Landon to win!

  Kiwi opened his beak. “You’re a winner.”

  “You can’t say that! The judges haven’t declared him a winner. You’re going to be the winner!” Sophia exclaimed.

  “You’re a winner,” said the parrot as Sophia, the last contestant, took the stage.

  Sophia strutted the sandy runway. I saw the desperation in her eyes. It seeped out of her, giving the unintended side effect of making her pirate costume more authentic. Her manic expression made her a real pirate instead of someone dressing up as one. I could see her sailing the sea and swinging a sword with ease.

  I had to appreciate her efforts. I clapped, noticing as I did so, that some of the black marker had gotten on my hands.

  Then the music stopped.

  Her parrot screeched, breaking the sudden eerie silence.

  The rain grew stronger, causing Sophia’s faltering steps on the wet sand to crunch and stick to her boots.

  The song resumed seconds later. It crackled and hissed, making the tune unintelligible.

  Sophia adopted a menacing scowl. “Shiver me timbers! You can’t steal my spotlight! You’ll walk the plank for this, you will.”

  While Landon had been playing the part of dressing up as a pirate, Sophia had transformed into one. The audience took note of this—and loved it. The applause grew wildly loud and the judge’s faces were transfixed.

  Sophia kept throwing out pirate phrases as she interacted with the crowd, telling some that they could join her crew and others that she would feed them to the fishes if they got any closer.

  By the time she finished, the judges had reached a verdict.

  “Sophia Bentley is the winner!” the judge with the college sash shouted.

  A wide smile grew on her face and, for a moment, I was distracted from the thought that I still needed a way to come up with the money I owed. Seeing Sophia happy was so different than the disheveled appearance that she had been wearing since her brother’s death.

  Landon joined me a minute later with a wry expression. “I did not see that coming. That was insane! She took everything that went wrong and turned it on it’s head. Incredible.”

  Sophia passed by us on her way to the judges.

  “Nice move,” Landon greeted her.

  “You’re a winner,” said the parrot.

  “No, he’s not,” said Sophia crossly. “I am. Tell that to me.”

  The parrot turned to me. “You’re a winner.”

  “Oh, come on!” Sophia turned her attention to Landon. “What do you mean?”

  Landon gestured to the speaker. “Turning the music off during your walk. You really put on a show.”

  “What? Oh, yeah. I suppose I did.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You didn’t have anything to do with the music, did you?”

  “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” Sophia said lightly. “Excuse me. I must collect my winnings.”

  “It was probably the rain that messed with the speaker,” said Landon as Sophia went over to the judges’ table.

  “Possibly,” I said. “But it wasn’t raining that hard and the music came back on.”

  Madison had some nice background music playing. She said she’d leave it on for the rest of the evening.

  “It’s not skipping or shutting off,” I continued. “Someone tampered with it during the contest.”

  Landon frowned. “I don’t get it. Why?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I have no idea.”

  It made no sense. What would stopping the music accomplish? Obviously someone wanted to sabotage Sophia’s performance—unless Sophia herself set it up. She certainly made the most of the mishap.

  But she also seemed genuinely confused. I didn’t think that she had done it.

  So, then who did? And why?

  CHAPTER TEN

  The after party was a huge success. Everyone was hyped up from the fashion show. The pirates slammed back drink after drink—which was excellent for business.

  I was toying wi
th the idea of having regular theme nights at Blue Hawaii to drum up extra customers when Madison came by.

  She ordered a few beers for her and her friends, while informing me that tonight was the official beginning of the pirate convention. It would last through the week, with a second contest occurring soon.

  “Only two contests?” I asked.

  Madison shrugged. “We got some good donations from local businesses and put them together for two big prizes instead of a bunch of smaller ones. It would probably be smarter to go with the smaller prizes, but that wouldn’t be keeping with the pirate theme. Pirates love gold—or cash, these days.”

  She left as a non-pirate customer came in. The newcomer was a sharply dressed woman who would give Maya a run for her money in terms of appearing professional—which was saying a lot. She ordered a Mai Tai while writing an email on her phone.

  When I handed it to her, Clare Tran, as she introduced herself, promptly put down her phone and asked where the best star-viewing location was. “I’m sure hiking a volcano would give excellent views, but I want to know a local’s opinion. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  “Anywhere on the island is pretty good,” I said. “Anywhere you can look at the sky is good.”

  “Wonderful! I was hoping to search for constellations.”

  As she spoke, I racked my brain, trying to come up with what made her familiar. Where did I know her from? Was she an old classmate? Did she come into Blue Hawaii occasionally? Or was it—hold on.

  Professional, liked to talk, and was interested in stars?

  This woman had to be the client Landon had his sales meeting with.

  “You know, I had a meeting with a nice young man who was an eager learner,” said Clare, immediately confirming my thoughts before I even had the chance to voice them. “He had some knowledge of the great cosmos and, let me tell you, it was more than most people. Of course, it’s not important to know about constellations to be an interesting person—but it sure does help!”

  I laughed. “It definitely does help.”

  “You should find yourself someone like him,” said Clare knowledgeably.

  “Bonding over stars sounds nice,” I said.

  Clare shook her head. “No, someone who’s willing to learn and try new things. He’d obviously studied up on constellations because he’d—no doubt—heard of my interests. It’s the effort that impressed me.” Clare glanced around Blue Hawaii. “Something tells me you’re no stranger to learning and putting forth effort yourself.”

  I dipped my head appreciatively. “Thanks.”

  “Also, Landon—that’s his name—was accommodating as well. I’m a sleepwalker and I accidently called him at one in the morning the night before our meeting. He confirmed our meeting like it was three in the afternoon.” Clare sipped her Mai Tai. “I actually got up and walked around the hotel—I’m staying at Sandy Turtle—and met a man who was having trouble sleeping as well. We chatted for a few minutes about our night struggles. It was nice.”

  My eyes widened. Clare had just confirmed the alibis of both Landon and, if I was correct in my thinking, Evan Clay.

  “What did the insomniac look like?” I asked.

  “Button up shirt that was buttoned up wrong. Paint stain on his watch. Dark hair, easy-going,” said Clare.

  That was definitely Evan.

  I was going to have to give up my suspicions about him. He clearly didn’t kill Bentley Barber.

  Clare downed the last of her Mai Tai as her phone buzzed. Her focus became absorbed by her phone as she handed me a generous tip and left Blue Hawaii.

  Landon came to the bar counter shortly after, wearing the college sash from one of the judges. He smiled sheepishly. “Shawn told me I won this for coming in second place.”

  “It suits you,” I said, looking him over. “You’re now a pirate and a college graduate. You’re a responsible rebel.”

  “That’s me,” Landon said, amused.

  As if he heard us talking about him, Shawn wandered over to us with a spaced-out expression and lack of awareness of his surroundings.

  Seeing him up close, I questioned his judging abilities. Could you have a recount for a pirate costume contest?

  “I’m going to give you this back,” Landon said to him.

  “Oh man, thanks,” said Shawn. “I can’t lose that. Imagine what my future children would think! They wouldn’t be able to wear it at their graduations!”

  “That’s not quite how it works,” Landon said.

  “Sashes aren’t passed down for generations? Are you sure?” asked Shawn.

  “Positive,” said Landon.

  I gave Landon a sideways glance. “I don’t know. You could start a tradition. But normally, Shawn, it’s just yours alone. You get to keep it for yourself.”

  “Oh, man. What an honor,” he said, awestruck. He gazed at his sash for a full minute before remembering we were standing in front of him. “So, you’re here on break, too?”

  “This is my bar,” I said.

  Shawn’s eyes popped open. “No way! I wish I could work at a bar one day.”

  “Nothing’s impossible,” I said, immediately biting my tongue and hoping he wouldn’t ask for a job application.

  “Nah, I’ve got a recruiting job lined up. I start in a couple weeks. Whoa! Time flies. This is my last summer. My last weeks of freedom… FREEDOM!”

  Shawn’s robe billowed as he abruptly turned and walked away.

  “Where is he going?” Landon asked, frowning. “I’ll be right back.”

  Landon chased after Shawn, who was heading across the sand to who knew where. Landon redirected Shawn to the party as I glanced at my marker-stained hands, remembering that I had meant to wash that off.

  I got some hand-sanitizer I kept nearby and rubbed my hands together, effectively getting most of the black marker off. The container was oddly almost empty, which was strange. I thought I had gotten a new one last week. How had it disappeared so soon?

  Maya came by towards the end of the night with a deeply concerned expression. “Are you aware that a couple of pirates are setting fire to their hats over there?”

  I looked at where she was pointing and shrugged. “They’re far enough away from the bar. I don’t think they’ll do any harm.”

  Maya’s deep creases in her forehead showed her disapproval. “Right. Okay, then.”

  She lowered her voice. “Have you found anything out about Sophia yet?”

  “Sophia says she didn’t have anything to do with it. I’ve got a feeling that she’s right,” I said.

  “And you just believed her?” asked Maya. “Where’s the proof that she didn’t kill him? You can’t rule her out because of a feeling you have. What if you’re wrong?”

  “I don’t think I am,” I said confidently. “We need to look into Micah, though. Did you find out where he lives?”

  Maya nodded. “I ran into Evan Clay again and convinced him to tell me. Do you want to go there first thing in the morning?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “I’ll pick you up and we can check it out. Do you think that—”

  I stopped mid-sentence when I suddenly noticed a change in the pyromaniac pirates’ behavior. Some friends had brought them a few beers and the pirates were looking slightly unsteady on their feet.

  I was all for having some fun, but I drew the line at open fire around alcohol—especially so close to Blue Hawaii.

  I rummaged through the bar, not finding what I was looking for. “Kimo, where’s the fire extinguisher?”

  He raised his shoulders. “Are you sure we have one?”

  I groaned. “We did at one point. How could I have lost it?”

  Improvising, I grabbed a bucket and quickly filled it with water. “Step in for me, will you?” I asked Maya, who immediately became flustered.

  “I’m not a bartender!” she called out. “What am I supposed to do?”

  I had no time to answer her. The pyromaniacs were soaking their bandanas
in their beers and that was too much of pirate-like behavior for me to handle.

  Reaching them in record time, I doused their burning hats with water and tore the bandanas out of their hands.

  “What were you thinking?” I asked, catching my breath. I seriously needed to step up my random walks on the beach to a regular exercise routine one of these days.

  The pyromaniacs, Peyton and Tristan, were staring at me, stunned that their fun had been abruptly ended for them.

  “We’re having a good time,” Peyton protested.

  “Don’t you want us to have a good time?” asked Tristan, fidgeting with his fake nose ring.

  Peyton’s real diamond nose ring sparkled with the fire’s light. “You can’t call yourself a pirate and do this to us.”

  Tristan nudged his girlfriend. “She’s not wearing any pirate clothes. I don’t think she’s a pirate at all.”

  I looked down at my normal jeans and tee-shirt. How could I have a costume on when I’d given it to Landon to wear?

  “Think of it this way, then. You’re on my ship. If you don’t leave within the next two seconds, I’ll send you to the brig. Got it?” I asked firmly.

  The couple reluctantly agreed, leaving without further incident.

  “You’re too easy-going sometimes,” Maya observed as I rejoined her at the bar counter. “You’re going based off feelings and letting people set fire to hats without a care?”

  I grinned. “It all worked out. You’re too uptight.”

  “Yeah. I see a disaster coming a mile away and I’m the uptight one,” Maya grumbled.

  “I appreciated the heads-up,” I said cheerfully. “Besides, your life would be so boring without me in it.”

  A wry smile spread across Maya’s face in spite of herself. “A little boredom never hurt anybody.”

  “If you say so,” I said.

  To be honest, I was relieved nothing bad had happened. As much as I teased Maya about being too uptight, I knew that I’d be lost without her. I hadn’t even noticed the fire antics until she pointed them out.

  And on the topic of not noticing things, I glanced around. “Why are you sitting on a stool? I thought you were going to cover me?”