Dying for a Daiquiri

by CindySample

  Someone needed to clue Henry into the aloha spirit. My mother circled the two men, prepared to jump in and rescue her offspring if need be. I noticed Lee creeping closer as well, although his intent was most likely to catch someone incriminating himself.

  Tom appeared behind me. He wrapped his muscular arms around my waist. “What’s going on? Do I need to break anything up?” It felt so good to have someone to lean on for a change.

  “I’m not sure. The guy yelling at Dave is Henry, Walea’s husband.”

  “So I’m guessing the guy who looks like you except for the balding hair and…” Tom’s voice trailed off as his palm lightly brushed the curved part of my body that bore no resemblance to my brother.

  PING!

  I slapped myself mentally. There would be plenty of time for pinging later.

  I grabbed Tom’s hand and hauled him into the melee. “Tom, meet my brother Dave. And this is Henry. He’s the excellent ukulele musician we heard earlier.”

  “I enjoyed your playing, Henry. And Dave, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Same here. I appreciate you jumping in and saving my little sis from that killer.”

  Henry’s eyes widened. “Killer? What are you talking about?”

  Tom and I exchanged glances. “Let’s just say murder has brought the two of us together on more than one occasion,” I said.

  “We can sure use your help investigating Keiki’s murder,” Dave said to Tom before he turned back to Henry. “I’ve said it over and over, but I’ll repeat it once again. I did not kill Keiki. She came to me for advice and I tried to help her.”

  “Keiki came to you for advice?” I jumped when I realized Victor had joined us.

  Dave stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth. His eyes flicked from Henry to Victor then back to me. “Keiki said Joey was concerned about something going on at Koffee Land.”

  “Joey wasn’t involved in the coffee operation,” Henry said. “He worked for me putting in the zip-line.” A worried expression crossed his face. “What did he tell Keiki?”

  Victor put a reassuring hand on Henry’s shoulder as he addressed my brother. “I doubt my daughter knew anything about Koffee Land worth discussing. Dave, I appreciate your gesture coming to our house today, but your presence is making my wife uncomfortable. I think it would be better if you left now.”

  Dave looked embarrassed as he glanced at me. Detective Lee joined us and drew Dave aside from our group. They conversed briefly then Dave spoke to me. “I guess I better leave. Laurel, I’ll see you and Tom later on.”

  Tom and I watched along with everyone else as Dave left with the detective. Victor and Henry walked off and rejoined their wives.

  Regan raced up to join us. “Where are Dave and Detective Lee going? Is he under arrest again?”

  I shook my head. “No, Victor thought it best for Dave to leave. He claimed Dave’s presence was making Kiana uncomfortable.”

  Regan stomped her foot as I looked on in astonishment. “Well, that’s just wrong.” Then she ran out the gate after the two men.

  “What was that all about?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t know. My brother and his wife are the perfect candidates for Dr. Phil’s show. Or maybe Jerry Springer.”

  We waited to see if Regan would re-appear, but she and Dave both must have left. Detective Lee also did not return and I hoped his lack of an appearance did not signify that one of my relatives was back in custody.

  We said brief farewells to Keiki’s family, all of whom seemed anxious for us to depart. As I went into the house to make a pit stop before the long drive, I noticed the woman with the long gray braid and dressed in the green muumuu, brewing a pot of coffee.

  I walked up to her. “That sure smells good. Do you know which brand it is?”

  “It’s Victor’s own coffee. He grows beans here, roasts them himself and then sells them to some of the locals.”

  Interesting. I had many more questions about the nature of the garage storage room, but I would save them for the next day when I took Tom to Koffee Land. As we walked back to our rental cars, we discussed Victor’s enormous coffee stash. Mother and Stan agreed it was odd, but they also thought there could be an easy explanation. Perhaps Victor liked to recycle the cast-off Koffee Land bags. Or Ritz needed beans stored off-site.

  I shoved the mysterious coffee cache to the back of my mind. As Tom and I drove back to the hotel, I concentrated on a burning question that had nagged at me since Tom’s arrival yesterday. A question that caused my body to create its own version of a Kilauea eruption.

  Tom flashed one of those melt-in-your-arms smiles at me. Be still my heart and all those girly parts that were celebrating in advance. Geez, you’d think it had been years since we’d partied with anyone.

  Oh yeah, it had been. Shoot. Would I even remember how?

  I pondered if it truly was dead bodies keeping Tom and me apart. Was I the one who was afraid of our relationship escalating? How could I expect to take the place of Tom’s deceased wife in his heart, or in his life? Was he looking for a replacement, or just someone to do the horizontal hula with?

  And why was it whenever Tom and I were together, I had far more questions than answers?

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Tom and I managed to sneak away from Stan and the others for an intimate evening at the hotel’s best oceanfront restaurant. After consuming an excellent seafood dinner and finishing off an equally excellent bottle of wine, we strolled down to the surf, hand in hand. I almost forgot to worry about where our relationship was going. Standing barefoot on the beach, our arms entwined around one another, seemed a wonderful way for it to begin.

  The smell of Tom’s cologne and the taste of his soft lips against mine made me forget about everything except the need to be with him. Our bodies surged together as the waves crashed around us. The noise of the waves made it almost impossible to hear him crying out my name.

  Wait a minute. As far as I knew, Tom wasn’t a ventriloquist. If his lips were locked on mine, who was yelling for me?

  Actually, more to the point, who wasn’t calling my name? When I pulled away from Tom’s embrace, I discovered Regan, Dave, Stan and my mother staring at us. The next time Tom and I walked down to the beach, I was attaching a “do not disturb” sign to the back of my head.

  My family can find more ways to ruin a romantic evening. With my fists clenched on my hips, I shouted over the boisterous waves. “What’s the matter?”

  Stan bounded up to us, his entire body pulsating with excitement. “Dave and Regan had a heart to heart talk,” he said. I muttered, “Finally,” and glared at my brother and sister-in-law in the distance.

  Stan went on, “When they started discussing what each of them knew individually, they put two and two together, and came up with the killer.”

  Okay, that was probably a good enough reason to interrupt us, although it didn’t mean I had to like it.

  Tom and I grabbed the shoes we’d tossed on the sand. We walked back to the grassy area, so we could carry on a conversation without the din of the monstrous waves crashing around us.

  “What did you two discover?” I asked Dave and Regan. Despite having our kissing interrupted, I couldn’t help but smile to see them with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

  Nothing like detecting to bring a couple together, I always say.

  Dave looked sheepish. “Once Regan and I realized we’d both jumped to conclusions suspecting each other of having an affair, we started comparing notes.”

  “Yes.” I impatiently tapped my sandaled foot anxious to return to Tom’s embrace.

  “I didn’t know Joey had shared his concerns regarding Koffee Land with Keiki,” Regan said, “until Dave told me that was the reason he’d met with her away from the restaurant.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “And Dave wasn’t aware I’d heard a conversation between Joey and Henry regarding the safety of the zip-line platforms. Joey was concerned t
he pilings weren’t deep enough to support the forty-foot towers.”

  “That could be serious,” Tom interjected.

  “The original structures weren’t supposed to be that high, but they decided to raise them when they added the tandem line,” Regan explained. “I overheard that conversation a few weeks before Joey’s fall but assumed Henry and his crew corrected the problem. I know they did some repair work after Joey fell off the platform.”

  “Or jumped,” Stan added.

  “Or was pushed,” Dave said. “I don’t know if we’ll ever discover the truth regarding his fall.”

  “The murderer could have killed Keiki if he thought she knew too much,” I threw in.

  “Henry must be the killer.” Dave punched his right fist in the air to punctuate his announcement. “That’s why he kept threatening me. To throw us off his scent.”

  “Your theory’s plausible,” Tom said. “But not conclusive. I’m sure Detective Lee has considered all of Keiki’s family members as potential suspects, including her brother-in-law.”

  “Yeah, but does Lee know about the conversation between Joey and Henry?” I asked Regan. “Did you tell them when you were arrested?”

  She shook her head. “I never thought of it until a few minutes ago when Dave and I began comparing notes.”

  I reached into my purse and grabbed my cell. Interesting how two detectives in two different states were on my speed dial.

  Definitely not something to tweet about.

  My call landed in Lee’s voicemail, giving me only twenty seconds to state my message. Shoot. I couldn’t even order a meal from McDonald’s in that amount of time. I told him to meet us at Koffee Land at ten in the morning.

  And to bring his handcuffs.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Homicide definitely trumps hot hotel sex. Not that Tom and I had made any plans to roll around the 800-thread-count sheets in his room. For some reason, confronting a murderer in the morning seemed easier than confronting a man in my bed the morning after. I was beginning to think I needed some couch time.

  What I couldn’t figure out was if I needed it with Tom or with a therapist!

  By the time my alarm sounded, I’d thrashed around so much my sheets looked like I’d hosted a busload of tourists under the covers. At least one problem was resolved the previous evening––Dave and Regan’s relationship. They were making out like teenagers when they headed home to their condo.

  Tom had politely escorted Mother and me back to our room so my night ended with one chaste kiss and the promise of more to come tonight. All we had to do was ensure the police arrested Henry this morning. Then we could relax and enjoy the remaining two days of our vacation.

  Since all the zip-line work had been completed, Regan wasn’t positive if Henry intended to stop by Koffee Land, even though today was its inaugural run. Once she reached the office, she would call and notify him his final check was ready for pick up. It was a substantial sum, and she was confident he would pick it up in person rather than wait for the mail.

  Detective Lee hadn’t returned my message so I didn’t know if he was busy with another matter, or just ignoring the musings of an amateur sleuth. Tom possessed zero authority on the island. He was coming along solely to ensure I didn’t attempt anything I’d regret later.

  I’d gone on my laptop the night before and Googled zip-line construction. I discovered a previous accident on the island that had occurred because the pilings hadn’t been driven deep enough into the shifting volcanic soil to support the height of the zip-line tower. Did Joey threaten to share his concerns with Ritz? Or the authorities?

  Unfortunately, everything we’d learned so far was hearsay, and we’d based our deduction solely on statements made by Joey and Keiki. Statements that could not be corroborated by anyone still living––other than our suspected killer–– Henry. I tried to find a flaw in our logic, but our suppositions made sense to me. Regan had overheard a conversation between Henry and Joey regarding the safety of the zip-line tower. Joey had confided in Keiki about a concern regarding Koffee Land. Henry had threatened both Dave and me on different occasions, and he’d been on the Sea Jinx the night I fell overboard.

  I was also comfortable with our plan. We’d devised an excellent strategy to lure the suspected killer to Koffee Land and we’d notified the police. We even had a backup detective although he was more moral support than official backup.

  We arrived at Koffee Land and found a temporary barrier blocking the entrance. A sign indicated the coffee plantation was closed to the public this week. How did I forget the reality show began filming today? Should I warn Lee to be discreet? No blue lights flashing or sirens blaring?

  Tom and Stan moved the barrier so it only partially blocked the driveway. That way Henry could get in as well as the police, assuming they were interested in my nocturnal musings. When we drove up to the parking lot, we found it filled with vans, trucks, cars, and people.

  “Do you think we can watch them tape the show?” Stan asked me, eyes hopeful. Reality TV trumped detecting as far as my pal was concerned.

  “I don’t have a clue,” I replied as we walked up the sidewalk to the entrance. The door to the center bore a “closed” sign, but when I pushed on the door, it opened. My sister-in-law knew we were coming, so they must have posted the notice for any tourists who ignored the driveway blockade.

  I walked through the deserted center calling out Regan’s name. Victor’s and Regan’s offices were vacant, as was what I assumed was Ritz’s office, far grander than the other two. Plus a bigger clue: the walls were loaded with plaques and trophies engraved with his name.

  “Maybe everyone is out on the set,” Tom said.

  That’s why he’s the top guy in the sheriff’s department. And in my heart.

  “Sounds like the perfect excuse to visit the pavilion. Stan will be thrilled. I just hope he doesn’t try to win the bachelor for himself.”

  We bumped into Ritz on our way out of the center. He informed us that the building was supposed to be closed since all of the staff was out on the set.

  “Do you think we can watch them shoot the show?” I asked Ritz as he locked up the center.

  “This is a closed set so we’re not supposed to have any visitors, but I guess you’re family of sorts. Just keep quiet once we get over that rise.”

  Running into Ritz was a convenient coincidence since my coffee questions had been percolating in my mind all night. Along with thoughts of the killer.

  “Ritz,” I said, “your operation is so amazing. I don’t know how you’ve managed to maintain the quantity and quality of your coffee production on top of your other expansion plans.”

  Ritz puffed out his chest, clad today in a silky taupe aloha shirt and paired with taupe trousers. I wondered if the man even owned a pair of jeans. My gaze drifted to Tom’s cute denim-clad tush, as he and my mother walked ahead of us.

  That man was born to wear jeans. And some day I wanted to be the one to take them off him.

  Back to my burning coffee questions. “Do you store all of your beans on the property? Ever use other temporary storage facilities?”

  He shook his head. “No, we have plenty of space for our current crop. In fact, we have enough capacity to double production. That insidious borer beetle finally hit us this year so Victor has had his hands full ensuring only a small percentage of our acreage has been affected. Thank goodness for his expertise managing our crops.”

  If Ritz only knew that Victor’s expertise may have diverted coffee beans away from Koffee Land and into his own hands. I wondered what drove the long-term employee to cheat his boss. Did it have anything to do with his family? Perhaps it was expensive supporting Kiana? And what about Keiki? Did she factor into Victor’s theft?

  Or did Victor factor into her murder? I couldn’t imagine Victor killing his stepdaughter. The grief in his eyes appeared to be real.

  But so was Keiki’s murder. Very very real.

  CHAPTER FIFTY
-FOUR

  The pavilion area looked exactly how I expected a reality TV show set to look.

  Pandemonium in paradise.

  Cameras, computers and people everywhere. In the pavilion itself, a dozen young women in colorful outfits chatted with one another. It didn’t look like anyone, much less the four of us, would be noticed in the melee.

  I finally spotted Regan and Tiffany, both recognizable by their lime green Koffee Land shirts.

  I turned to Ritz. “I see Regan but I don’t want to interrupt her. Do you know who that woman is?” I pointed to an elegant Chinese woman dressed in a summery silk suit who conversed with one of the camera crew.

  “You don’t know Stacey Leung-Crawford?” Ritz’s tone indicated his admiration for the woman.

  No, that was a name I would definitely remember.

  “She used to be the evening news reporter for KXXA news in Honolulu.”

  “I haven’t had time to watch the local news.” Except for the terrible evening when the police arrested my brother, which miraculously did not make the late night news.

  “Stacey is a big deal on the island, and one of the producers of The Bride and the Bachelor. She hopes it will be hugely successful and make national prime time. I think Stacey is determined to make national prime time herself. Follow me. I’ll introduce you.”

  I was more than happy to follow Ritz, and my detective trio trailed behind us. The female contestants and Jacques Cointreau, the male star, stood near what appeared to be a refreshments tent. He looked hot which wasn’t surprising given the above normal temperatures today. The Bachelor chugged half a bottle of water then dumped the rest on his head. The water did nothing to mar Jacques’s striking good looks and bronzed, muscled body.