Tad raised his hand in the air. "Me too, K. That pineapple pie has Taddy written all over it." He smacked his lips. "Delish. I can't wait to indulge in some while I watch Pretty Little Liars tonight."
"Do you live in town?" I asked Tad.
He took the pie from Keanu's outstretched hands. "Yes, I have a fabulous little place above the linen store. My uncle owns the building, so the rent is dirt cheap for me. Or should I say, sand cheap. Ha-ha."
Great. Hawaiian shtick, anyone?
Tad's face twisted into a genuine frown. "I almost ended up losing both my job and apartment, thanks to that miserable boss of yours."
Keanu and I exchanged glances. "What happened?" I asked.
"When I invited him to attend the musical with me, he called up my uncle, who's also my boss, and told him that I was coming on to him. Can you believe it? Like I couldn't do any better than him!" Tad's nostrils flared. "He told Uncle Simon that I'd been acting inappropriately in front of his customers, which was a bunch of horse pucky. Do you want to know what really happened?"
Keanu raised his eyebrows at me.
"Uh, yeah," I said. "Of course we do."
Tad brushed his hair off his forehead. "I went up to Hale's office to ask him about the show. He called me some terrible names and then punched me right in the face."
"That's awful," I said.
Keanu folded his arms across his broad chest. "That was the day when you came down the stairs with a bloody nose and said that you'd tripped and hit the wall?"
Tad lowered his eyes to the ground. "Yeah, I was afraid to rock the boat at the time because Hale might have given his linen order to a competitor. I didn't want my uncle's business to suffer because of me. I could have filed assault charges but decided not to. Then the next day my uncle called me into his office and said Hale demanded that I either be fired or he receive a permanent discount for my 'coming on to' him. Hale's one of my uncle's largest accounts, so he agreed to lower his rate. The man was a full-fledged jerk to me."
"Wow." It was all I could think to say. I felt sorry for Tad. No one deserved to be treated or judged like that, especially by Hale.
He winked at me and picked up his pie. "Lovely to meet you, Carrie hon. I'll see you Sunday night. Stay handsome, K."
Keanu smiled and shook his head. "You're something else."
Tad blew him a kiss. "I am. Remember the saying, guys. You know, when someone gets what they deserve."
Perplexed, I stared at him. "You mean what goes around, comes around?"
Tad's eyes gleamed as he shook his head. "Nuh-uh. That's an expression for the mainland, silly girl. Here we say, 'Karma is a beach.'"
CHAPTER EIGHT
The buzzing from the alarm clock awakened me. I reached my hand onto the nightstand and fumbled to find the shut-off button without sending it crashing to the floor like I'd done the day before. I sat upright, blinked the sleep out of my eyes, and turned to my left, but Brad wasn't there. In fact, it was obvious from the undisturbed sheets and blanket that his side of the bed had not been slept in.
Brad didn't usually work Saturdays at the resort, so I wondered if he'd spent Friday night partying, and God knows where or whom he was with. Some days I felt like his mother instead of his girlfriend. I checked my phone, and there was a text that had come in about midnight, shortly after I'd fallen asleep while watching a rerun of Seinfeld.
Babe, staying with friends tonight. Pies were great. Everyone loved them. Bring more tomorrow.
I was so enraged that I almost threw the phone against the wall, but stopped myself in the nick of time. That wasn't an option since I couldn't afford a new one.
What a selfish jerk. I hadn't even had one bite of either pie—and I'd been looking forward to a large piece for breakfast this morning. Brad must have come home briefly while I was downstairs in the laundry room last night and then left with both pies before I'd returned. He hadn't bothered to leave a note. I had no idea where he had gone.
While I showered and dressed, that little voice of doubt started to creep into my head again. Had Brad really been out partying with friends? And why was I never asked to join them? I wanted to trust him more than anything. Back home, he'd never given me a reason to doubt him. Brad had been a devoted boyfriend then, sweet and complimentary, and we'd seen each other almost every night after work. Several of those glorious and fun evenings had been spent at his apartment.
As I made my way toward the café that morning, I wondered again why I was even trying to save this relationship. Brad and I had first met at a local ski resort in Vermont. He had recently moved there from California, where he'd lived his entire life. His parents were wealthy and had sold their home and relocated, leaving their youngest son to fend for himself. That should have been my first indication that they wanted to be rid of him too.
Brad had an older brother in Vermont who'd informed him that a local ski resort was looking for an instructor. While growing up, Brad had spent several posh vacations in Colorado, where his parents owned a condo, and he was as comfortable on skis as on a surfboard. However, it wasn't long before Brad realized he wasn't cut out for the frigid Northeastern climate.
Maybe I should start putting money aside for my own place. Then again, I wasn't even sure my job was permanent, so it seemed I was stuck for the time being.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I grabbed the Aloha Sun off the counter and idly skimmed the rental section.
"Looking for new accommodations?" Poncho was standing behind me, grinning, meat cleaver in his hand.
"Cripes," I muttered. "You'd better put that down before Detective Ray walks in."
He muttered something indistinguishable underneath his breath. "That man. I am not certain how much faith I have in his credentials. Pretty sure that he could not find the murderer if he was standing right in front of him."
Voices could be heard coming from upstairs. "Who's up there with Alana?"
"Keanu," Poncho said. "Apparently she was in early this morning, looking over the books and questioning him about some discrepancies."
I followed him into the kitchen. "What, does she think he's embezzling money or something crazy like that?"
Poncho shrugged as he started slicing vegetables on the pristine counter. "Who knows with that woman? She is not concerned about us or the customers. In all the time I have worked here, she has never once inquired about me or my family's welfare. All she cares about is herself and those expensive purses she likes to lug around."
Okay, obviously a touchy subject for him. "What day is Hale's funeral scheduled for?"
Poncho gave a palms up. "No idea." He started to say something else, and then we heard the tapping of Alana's heels on the stairs. He wiped his hands on a paper towel. "You can ask the queen herself. She wants to meet with all of us."
I'd forgotten about the impending meeting. In a moment, Alana came into view followed by Keanu, whose eyes instantly locked on mine. Embarrassed, I turned away and then chided myself silently. Why had I done that?
"Everybody into the restaurant." Alana practically spat the words out of her mouth. No good morning, nice to see you, hope you die like my husband—nothing. Since I was closest to the door, I pushed it open and held it for Alana, who was directly behind me. She glared at me and didn't even bother to say thank you as she passed by.
Vivian and Lola had arrived and were deep in conversation until they caught sight of us and then separated, guilty looks upon their faces. It didn't take a mastermind to guess what—or whom—they'd been talking about. They sat down together at one of the tables, and I joined them. Poncho and Keanu remained standing on opposite sides of the counter, while Alana took center stage.
Alana looked crisp, cool, and very businesslike in a pink silk suit and a silver pair of stiletto sandals on her tiny sized-five—I guessed—feet. Despite her small stature, her presence was powerful, and my palms started to sweat.
"I will speak to Sybil and Anna during their shift tomorrow, as well as Leo,"
Alana announced. "I believe all of you here are always scheduled off on Sunday, is that correct?"
Lola nodded, a sly smile on her face. "And Monday."
Alana surveyed her employee with visible contempt. Lola returned the stare, obviously unintimidated. She was a tough one to figure out—nice one moment and then distant the next. As far as brains, the jury was still out on that detail.
Alana's nostrils flared. "I'm aware that the café is closed on Mondays. So that would mean everyone has to be scheduled off that day. How come I didn't know that you were a brain surgeon, Lola?"
Lola snapped a piece of gum in her mouth and giggled. "Sorry. I wasn't sure if Hale had ever told you. I realize he kept you in the dark about a lot of things."
The entire room was so quiet that you could have heard a napkin rustle to the floor.
"You should be careful what you say, sweetie. I'm your boss now." Alana took a step toward our table and glared down at Lola. And you won't keep your job by offering to sleep with me, either."
Whoa.
Lola watched her with genuine surprise. "Not me. Hale was a pig. Guess that honor was reserved for you, boss."
I exchanged glances with Vivian, who immediately lowered her eyes to the table. This incident was about to turn into a screaming, hair-pulling debacle that neither one of us wanted to witness.
Alana stood stock still, her face pinched with anger. She took a step toward Lola, and Keanu suddenly rushed forward from behind the counter to put a hand on her shoulder.
"Okay. We're all upset. Let's fill Alana in on some of the procedures she might not know about."
"I'm familiar with all the procedures," Alana snapped back at him. "I plan to run a tighter ship than Hale did. If extra help is needed with serving, I can step in. I've waited on tables many times."
Keanu nodded. "Alana and I will be upstairs for most of the morning, going over past sales records and such. We expect the place will be very busy, especially with the curiosity factor figured in. If anyone needs help, don't hesitate to call us. As everyone but Carrie already knows, Saturday is generally the busiest day of the week around here."
Alana eyed me sharply. "I will help out the part-time staff tomorrow too if needed. I plan to be off on Tuesdays. On that day I will entrust Keanu to run the café, and expect all of you to obey him as you would me."
Vivian kicked me under the table, and I flinched, hoping Alana wouldn't see.
Alana caught my reaction. "Is there a problem, Carrie?"
I shook my head. "Not at all."
Her cheeks were bright red. "When we are finished, I'd like to talk to you upstairs. Alone." She glanced at Keanu. "We will carry on the café in Hale's memory. He was always so proud of the establishment, and I—"
Her voice broke, and she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Everyone squirmed in their seats with obvious discomfort. "That's all."
"Wait, I have a question," Vivian said.
Alana stared at her in surprise. "Yes?"
"When is the wake and funeral?" Vivian asked.
A tear ran down Alana's cheek. "He's going to be cremated, and the service will be private. Now get back to work." She turned on her heel and disappeared through the swinging kitchen doors.
Lola gave a loud snort. "Crocodile tears. She's got more money than God. If I was her, I'd sell the place and spend all my time sunning on a yacht."
Before Vivian or I could reply, Lola slid out of her seat and went behind the counter to put together silverware packets for the tables. Poncho had already returned to the kitchen, and Keanu was starting a pot of coffee.
Vivian nudged me. "She's lying."
"Who? Alana?"
She shook her head. "Lola. I think she did sleep with Hale."
Gross. "Get out. How do you know?"
Vivian rose to her feet and adjusted her apron. "There's a rumor that Hale was seen with one of his female employees at The Lava Pot, tying one on—or twenty. I never actually saw them myself, but someone started spreading the rumor around. A few of the customers have even come in and asked if it was me! Talk about scary. This was right before Alana and Hale separated—well, one of the times. There are too many to count. Anyhow, the woman was so drunk that night I heard she could barely stand. Then there was talk that they checked into a room afterwards. When Alana found out, she moved out of their house and into a suite at the resort."
"When was this?" I asked.
She paused to consider. "A couple of months ago, I believe."
I watched as Lola, oblivious to our conversation, made her way out onto the patio to check the tables. I could not imagine anyone needing a job that badly, or perhaps I didn't want to. Sure, the man had been good-looking and wealthy, but his overall attitude and shabby treatment of others made him repulsive to me.
Keanu walked over to us and motioned at me. "You'd better get upstairs. Alana doesn't like to be kept waiting."
My insides quaked with fear. "What do you think she wants?"
He looked at me sympathetically. "I think your job is safe. She probably wants to ask you about what happened with Hale the other night. I noticed that she came in right after you went upstairs to see him."
I groaned. "Nothing happened, and she knows that. Why does she insist on tormenting me?"
"It's not just you," Vivian said. "Alana's always been suspicious of any female around Hale, and I can't say I blame her, having heard about his track record. The guy cheated on her too many times to count."
"But not with me," Poncho yelled from the kitchen.
We all laughed.
"Time to lower my voice, I guess," Vivian muttered.
With a sigh, I pushed through the doors and slowly made my way up the stairs to the office. Alana was sitting at Hale's desk, a pile of papers in front of her as she entered information into the computer.
She looked up and scowled. "Took you long enough."
I decided to cut to the chase. "What is it you wanted?"
Alana narrowed her eyes. "I'd like to know what my husband said to you the other night."
Ugh. "Mrs. Akamu, I really don't think—"
She slammed the desk drawer shut. "It's Alana. And I don't care what you think. Tell me what he said. Did he ask you to sleep with him?"
Good grief, this was humiliating. "No. He asked me to go to dinner with him, and I explained that I had a boyfriend."
Alana snorted. "Like that made a difference to him." She stared down at her hands in her lap and then wrung them in obvious frustration. Her gaze searched mine. "Look, I'm aware of what my husband was capable of. I caught him cheating on me before. Right in the middle of the act too."
Why would she possibly want him back then? Was it for the money?
It was as if she'd read my thoughts. "It wasn't about money. I did love him. He was a kind and gentle soul when we first met over twenty years ago."
Okay, were we talking about the same person here?
"There were things that happened in his life that changed him," Alana went on. "It doesn't excuse what he did to me, but I was willing to take him back. I thought we loved each other enough to overcome our problems. And then he cheated again with that—" She sighed. "A leopard doesn't change its spots, I guess."
But how could you possibly love a man like that? For a moment I felt a twinge of pity for Alana. I was starting to have my own doubts about Brad and the "friends" he visited too often. If it turned out the friend was female, we were finished as a couple. I would never tolerate a man cheating on me.
"When I told him I had a boyfriend, he laughed. Then you came upstairs."
She focused on the wall behind me and nodded. "It doesn't matter. He would have taken you out to eat and then got what he wanted from you. Women were like putty in his hands. He was seen with a female employee a couple of months back, and I know who it was. I have plenty of spies around. The lookie-loos are always happy to bring me up to date on Hale's latest conquests."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to play
dumb.
"I'm talking about Carmen. She's the woman Hale fired the day before he died. Her number was in his cell phone, right at the top of recent calls that night. She's the one who killed him—I'm sure of it."
CHAPTER NINE
I stared at Alana in confusion. Would Carmen have killed Hale just because he had fired her? A possibility, I guess, but it seemed a bit farfetched to me. "Why would Carmen want to kill Hale?"
"Because she was in love with him," Alana explained. "I saw the way she always looked at him. She flirted with him shamelessly, even when I was around. Obviously her world was devastated when Hale fired her. I need to find a way to incriminate her."
I couldn't help but wonder if Alana's real reason for incriminating Carmen was because she thought her husband was fooling around with the woman.
Alana eyed me suspiciously. "Now that Carmen's gone, that will be more difficult to do. You could help me. Get chummy with Lola. She was friendly with Carmen, and I bet they still keep in touch. Ask her out for drinks, and suggest Carmen come along. Take Carmen out after work tonight and get her drunk. From what I hear, that's easy enough to do."
I was too stunned for a moment to say anything. In the first place, there was no reason for me to trust Alana. She'd been nasty to me since the moment we'd met. What if she was setting me up, along with Lola and Carmen? As much as I wanted to learn who the killer was, I had no plans to go along with this crazy scheme of hers. "Sorry. I don't want to be involved."
Her mouth twitched. "I should have known I couldn't count on you. Maybe you were even in on it too. You, Vivian, and Lola might have plotted this with Carmen."
This woman gave new meaning to the word whackadoodle. Anger rose from within me and to the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. "Hold on a second. I'm sorry your husband died. He wasn't a very nice man, but I had no reason to want him dead. Plus, I'm brand new to the café. You're way out of line." I untied my apron and flung it on her desk. "No job is worth this much aggravation."
Death of the Big Kahuna Page 8
