Dying for a Daiquiri

by CindySample

  Regan and Dave arrived at the hotel minutes before we departed for the spa. Liz took one look at Regan’s wan make-up free face and dispirited demeanor, and insisted she join us. Regan protested at first but I talked her into it. This could be the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with my sister-in-law.

  As a spa owner, Liz had negotiated a discount on treatments for all the girls. And Stan.

  Liz had signed me up for a seaweed wrap. She claimed the sea kelp that covered me from my forehead to my toes, would remove all the toxins from my body. Considering how much alcohol, chocolate-covered macadamia nuts and onion rings I’d consumed on this trip, my body could officially be classified as a toxic waste site.

  Although the dark green mixture didn’t smell horrible, the seaweed paste reminded me of last night’s involuntary swim. It would have been nice if someone had warned me in advance that the staff member responsible for coating every inch of my curves would not be a female.

  There I was, practically naked as a pelican, tiny strips of thin paper barely covering my lady parts, when Paoli, the young Hawaiian masseur walked into the room.

  He flashed me a grin and told me to relax.

  Ninety-nine percent of my body lay exposed and he wanted me to relax?

  I gritted my teeth and once Paoli slathered my body with the seaweed mixture and cocooned me in a light wrap, I finally did relax. For a minute. He turned on some New Age music and left me alone with my thoughts.

  There is nothing like a dark room, soothing music and no distractions to send my brain zooming in every direction. Even though the police had released Regan, she could still end up spending the rest of her life behind bars. I needed to learn what kind of evidence they had on her, and anything else she knew about Keiki’s relationship with my brother.

  What better time than now when she couldn’t escape my slimy clutches?

  I sat up and immediately felt woozy so I waited for my head to clear. Paoli had wrapped me tighter than a taquito. With some difficulty, I finally eased my left arm out first, followed by my right. Then I peeled the sticky wrap off my even stickier body. My pristine white terry cloth spa robe hung from a hook on the wall.

  Seconds later, I sneaked out of my room, semi-camouflaged in my seaweed-spotted robe, flip-flops, towel turban, and glasses. The door squeaked but none of the spa staff loitered in the hallway. I sensed they would frown on clients disappearing mid-treatment.

  My next dilemma––which closed door led to my sister-in-law?

  Poking my head inside each room didn’t seem like the best option. The last thing I wanted to do was walk in on a naked stranger. Or worse––a naked Stan. I’d hate to get Liz in hot water with the hotel when she had gone to so much trouble to provide a relaxing afternoon for everyone.

  A clear plastic holder outside of each treatment room held a small piece of paper that listed the present occupant’s name and schedule of appointments. I crept along the hallway peering inside the holders until I ran across Regan’s name. I pushed open the door and slipped inside.

  Regan lay on her stomach, her head resting on her hands, her long hair knotted on top of her head. Large black stones decorated her slender back. Liz must have signed Regan up for the hot lava rock massage, thinking it would provide the relaxation she needed after spending two days in the local jail. I imagined it would take more than a massage and some overheated stones to erase the memory of that experience.

  I tiptoed inside and bumped my knee into a large tray stand. The magnifying mirror resting on the top tier teetered on the edge, but righted itself without crashing and leaving me with another seven years of bad luck.

  At my last calculation, I was at 147 years worth and counting.

  I eased around the table and bent over to check on Regan. If she was taking a well-deserved snooze, I’d leave.

  Regan lunged at me. Hot rocks flew off the table as her hands closed around my neck.

  “Hey, it’s me, Laurel,” I protested as loudly as someone being strangled can eke out.

  Regan released her surprisingly strong grip. She grabbed the folds of the thin towel that covered her and sat up, her legs dangling over the side. With her wild eyes and frizzy auburn hair, she resembled a demented Raggedy Ann.

  “Geez, Laurel, you almost gave me a heart attack,” she lashed out at me. “What are you doing in my room?”

  I grabbed a stool from the corner of the room and plopped down. “I thought this would be a good time to chat.” I placed my hand on my chest hoping my heart palpitations would ease up. “Guess my timing could have been better.”

  “You think?” She tightened her grip on the blanket and glared. “I swear I can’t tell if you and your friends are trying to help me or hurt me.”

  “Help you, of course.” Now I was miffed. After all, I’d almost drowned playing detective on her behalf. “Why would you think otherwise?”

  She sniffed. “It crossed my mind that one of you turned me in to the police. To protect your brother.”

  I was almost shocked speechless. Almost.

  “We would never do that. Besides, the only thing Dave could be guilty of was negligence, and the police proved Keiki’s fall wasn’t an accident.”

  “What about his rendezvous with Keiki the night of the wedding reception?” Regan’s dark eyes burned brighter than the hot rocks scattered around the room.

  “Dave met with Keiki? At the restaurant?”

  She nodded. “The night of the reception I overheard Keiki tell her sister she was meeting her lover later on. When we got to the condo, I told Dave I planned to take a sleeping pill. Instead, I stayed awake to see if he would sneak out to meet her.”

  These revelations were not relieving my heart palpitations. I breathed deeply as my mind analyzed this new information.

  “Did you tell the police?”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t do anything to implicate my husband. He may be guilty of adultery, but I can’t imagine him as a murderer. Plus I didn’t follow him. All I know is that he left the condo––,” Her eyes saddened and for a minute she looked like a lost little girl. “I confessed to the police that Keiki and I had words, though.”

  “When was that?”

  “That same night. After I left you, I decided to visit the ladies’ room before I drove home. While I was in the stall, I overheard Walea and Keiki discuss her impending rendezvous with the boss that night. I stayed in the stall until they left.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I patted her hand, not knowing how else to comfort her.

  “I was devastated by her admission and it took me awhile to get a grip. And to dry off my tears. On my way out of the restroom, I bumped into Keiki. She wore this smug, self-satisfied smile on her face. I totally lost it and accused her of sleeping with Dave. Then I grabbed hold of her arm and shook her.”

  Regan removed her left arm from the towel and displayed several scabbed-over scratches. “That she-lion clawed me with those dagger-sharp fingernails of hers.”

  An energy-efficient light bulb flashed in my brain. “So that’s why the medical examiner found your DNA under her nails.”

  Regan nodded. “I don’t know if they believed me or not. No one witnessed it.”

  “What did Keiki say about Dave?”

  “She laughed and didn’t deny having an affair with him.”

  “I can’t imagine you having the strength to push Keiki over the wall although––,” I eyed the hands that attempted to choke me a few minutes earlier.

  She held up her arm and flexed a bicep. “The coffee business is great for maintaining muscle tone. Even accountants have to pitch in sometimes and haul huge bags of beans.”

  Regan slid off the table. “It’s just as well you interrupted me. I shouldn’t waste time getting spa treatments. I need to get back to Koffee Land. Assuming I still have a job. I haven’t spoken to Ritz or Pilar since the police carted me off to jail.”

  “Don’t you think you deserve some R&R before you go back to work? Dave mentione
d you’ve been putting in tons of overtime. He’s not too happy about your long hours.”

  “Maybe not, but it sure didn’t take him long to find a replacement for me.” Her shoulders slumped and her thin towel slid down her waif-like body. “Dave doesn’t get my devotion to my job. Your brother is a wonderful chef and he’s terrific with customers. But when it comes to anything financial, the guy is clueless. We couldn’t keep the restaurant going if it weren’t for my salary.”

  “Maybe you can find a position that’s less onerous, with lower pay, but far less hours.”

  “I can’t leave them in the lurch now. Not with the television crew due on site this weekend. We’re hoping once the show is on the air, the publicity will draw attention to Koffee Land and boost coffee sales. Plus Ritz has been very generous to me.”

  My eyebrows went up at that comment.

  Regan put her palm against my back and shoved me in the direction of the door. “I have to get back to work. Trust me. The coffee business can get really complicated sometimes.”

  I was sure it could, but was anything more complex than murder?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I returned to my treatment room and climbed back on the massage table seconds before Paoli returned. He looked perplexed by the trail of goop spattered across the floor, but he said nothing and merely led me to the Vichy shower room. There I morphed from a Shrek lookalike to a drowned rat.

  As far as I was concerned, the benefits of the seaweed wrap were not worth all the bother. Or the expense. From now on, the cheap aloe lotion I purchased at the dollar store would suffice as treatment for my toxic body and scaly skin.

  After I showered, shampooed and blow-dried my hair, my next scheduled stop was the manicure station. The last few days had been so stressful, I’d chewed my nails down to their nubs, leaving little left to polish. I hoped the technician could work some mani-magic.

  I left the spa and walked into the tranquil beige-on-beige-on-beige hair and nail salon. Liz sat in front of a young nail technician, babbling away. The manicurist filed my friend’s nails without once looking up. When I slid into the chair next to Liz, I realized she was chatting on her cell, her ever-present Bluetooth jammed into her ear. My manicurist, who introduced herself as Rose, placed a bowl of warm water in front of me. She instructed me to soak my right hand then she picked up my left hand and began nipping at my torn cuticles.

  “Bye, sweetie. Love you.” Liz turned to me, her smile wide. “That was Brian.”

  No, duh.

  “He called Tom to discuss that big murder trial your hunky detective has to testify at. The jury selection starts on Monday.” She threw a quizzical look at me. “While they were talking, Brian brought up Keiki’s murder. And the near drowning of Detective Hunter’s girlfriend. Something Tom knew nothing about.”

  Shoot. I knew I’d forgotten something on my to-do list. Call my boyfriend back home and tell him someone tried to kill me.

  “Ouch,” I yelped as blood spurted from the cuticle Rose just snipped.

  “Sorry. I distracted. You almost drown and don’t call boyfriend?” She waved her manicure scissors at me. “Bet he no be happy with you.”

  Bet she be right. If there was one thing that annoyed Tom Hunter, it was my failure to disclose an almost fatal experience.

  “I would have called him this morning if you hadn’t insisted on dragging me down here,” I accused Liz.

  “Nice try,” she replied. “How could you forget to call him? Or was it intentional? Maybe you didn’t want to tell him about Steve.” She tilted her bronze curls in my direction and winked.

  “Who Steve?” asked Rose, indicating I should switch hands. “You got you new boyfriend?”

  “No, I got no new boyfriend. I mean…” I sat there flummoxed as Rose snipped away at the ragged edges of my cuticles. I really didn’t know what my heart or my libido desired. Anger surged through me as I realized none of this would have been an issue if Tom had prioritized me over his career. If we’d been enjoying our time on the island together, there would have been no distractions like the captain of the Sea Jinx.

  My irritation with Tom disappeared as quickly as it surfaced. Realistically, the detective would always put me behind his career and his daughter. Maybe we were setting ourselves up for failure even before we started anything serious. Was I really attracted to Steve or merely flattered by his attention? Maybe I just felt lonely in paradise. Easily flattered and seduced.

  Well, not seduced. Not yet anyway.

  But my own situation made me realize how a lack of attention from Regan might have made it easier for Keiki to seduce my brother. What really happened during their rendezvous the night of the reception?

  Even more important, what occurred afterward?

  “I promise to call Tom,” I said to Liz, “but first I need to get Dave alone.”

  “Another guy? You one busy miss,” Rose remarked. Liz giggled while I explained that Dave was my brother and I needed to talk to him that evening.

  “So, you have big plans for tonight? What color you like?” Rose pointed to a dazzling and confusing array of polishes.

  I glanced at Liz as I pointed to a bottle of Magnificent Mango Mama polish. “Do we have plans this evening? What exactly is on the agenda for the rest of the week?”

  “Tomorrow I scheduled a ride through the Waipi’o Valley. Doesn’t that sound brilliant?”

  “It depends what I’m riding. Does it have legs and eat hay?”

  Liz shook her head and attempted to look mysterious. “It has wheels and guzzles gasoline.”

  Rose slapped her palm on the table, “Oh, you take ATV ride. Much fun. Kinda bumpy on trail though. You no mind bumpy ride?”

  Are you kidding? That could be my theme song.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  While Mother remained at the spa enjoying a pedicure and reflexology treatment, I returned to the room, delighted for the opportunity to have it to myself. Since the spa required that patrons turn off their cells, I first checked for messages. The second I hit the ON button, a series of text messages beeped on my screen.

  “Are you okay?” That was the first text from Tom at eleven a.m.

  “Please call me and let me know you’re alright.” Message two at noon.

  “Call me ASAP.” Message three at 1:06 p.m.

  “What the hell is going on?” Number four at 2:10 p.m.

  Not the most amorous of texts. Shakespeare sure didn’t have to worry about any poetic competition from my homicide detective. It made me wonder if it was possible to enjoy a romantic relationship with a man who experienced the dark side of life on a daily basis. Was Tom concerned about me or merely annoyed with me?

  I hit speed dial to return Tom’s call. My heart thumped loudly while the phone rang. I anticipated my call would go straight to voicemail and was startled when his deep baritone came on the line.

  “Laurel, it’s about time you called.”

  Grrrr. “Aloha to you, too.”

  The phone went silent. I visualized him counting to ten before he responded. “Can you imagine what it’s like to learn that your girlfriend almost drowned and she didn’t bother to call you?”

  That was better. He truly was worried about me. And he’d referred to me as his girlfriend. I grinned as I replied, “I know how busy you are. I didn’t think you needed anything else on your plate. Two fishermen came to my rescue so everything is fine.”

  “Brian didn’t give me the details so how the blazes did you end up in the ocean? That boat outfit sounds like a shoddy operation. I hope they compensated you for your ordeal.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t Steve’s fault someone shoved me overboard.”

  “Who the hell is Steve? And what do you mean someone ‘shoved’ you overboard?” The steel in Tom’s voice meant he was back in investigator mode.

  Here I was apologizing again, a situation that occurred far too frequently in our erratic relationship. I was a grown woman with a career and a family. I didn’t
need someone telling me what to do. Especially from 2,468 miles away.

  “Steve is my brother’s best friend and the owner and captain of the Sea Jinx,” I replied in a voice that dripped stalagmite-sized icicles. “He’s been a complete rock for Dave and his wife, and he’s been nothing but kind and solicitous of me.”

  My cheeks flushed as I recalled that extremely solicitous kiss last night.

  “If you say so.” Tom sounded dubious, but his tone calmed down. “Why do you think someone pushed you overboard?”

  I shared the details of Keiki’s murder and Regan’s subsequent arrest, as well as Timmy’s death threat to Keiki and our conversation on board the boat.

  By the time I’d finished, the sound of Tom’s fingers drumming on the top of his desk was loud enough to provide a backdrop for an entire dance troupe.

  “Honestly, I’ve never met anyone who was such a magnet for murder.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I intentionally go looking for murders to entertain me. That’s your job.”

  “Exactly. My job is to solve homicides. Your job is to drink daiquiris, lie on the beach, and enjoy your vacation.” Tom chuckled at what he obviously thought was a cute remark.

  I bristled at his laughter. “Excuse me, but remember those last two killers I discovered?”

  His laughter abruptly stopped. “What I distinctly remember is how you almost died both times.”

  Well, yeah. But, technically, I was batting one hundred percent in figuring out whodunit. My timing was just a tad off.

  “Promise me you won’t interfere in this case. Let the Hawaii police do their job,” Tom said.

  “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

  “That’s the vaguest statement I’ve ever heard.”

  “Look, my brother and sister-in-law’s welfare is important to me. Besides, the police here don’t seem nearly as intelligent as you and your officers.” I had no reason to make a statement about the competency of the local police, but a little flattery never hurt.