Keanu shook his head and grinned, producing a passkey from his pocket. "Already taken care of."
We slowly made our way down a plush carpeted hallway, and Keanu slid the card into the door of suite 505. When the door opened, I tried not to gape at the surroundings. There was a king-size bed with a luxurious-looking silk duvet on top. A private balcony ran between the two adjoining rooms, which offered gorgeous views of the ocean and the resort's swimming pool. The brilliant moon was fading fast in the night sky, another sign that a storm was looming on the horizon.
The adjoining room next to the master suite held a large comfortable couch, a table with plush chairs, and a wet bar in one corner. There were 70-inch flat screen televisions mounted to the wall of each separate room, and a spacious bathroom with a full Jacuzzi. Keanu's parents kept this year round? Mr. and Mrs. Church were doing quite well for themselves.
Keanu hobbled over to the bed and collapsed on it, his face contorted with pain.
"There must be a doctor at the resort," I said. "At least let me call the front desk and ask."
"I'll be fine." He reached for the phone on the nightstand. "I'm going to call and ask them to send a cab so you can get to Vivian's house for your things. I think I'll just hang out here until you get back, if that's all right with you."
"Of course." Heck, it was his room, so who was I to say? He could stay as long as he wanted—even the night—with no objection from me. "I hope I get there before Vivian does. I don't want to interfere with her date."
Keanu was already on the phone. "Hi, this is Keanu Church. Please send a cab for Miss Jorgenson. She's staying in our suite tonight." He listened. "Five minutes. Perfect, she'll be downstairs waiting. Thank you."
"I'm paying you for the cab fare." I dug into my purse, which was the only thing I had with me. Everything else was still at Vivian's.
Again, he waved me off. "Forget it. If you try to pay me, I'll make you clean out the walk-in-freezer tomorrow."
I grinned. "Okay, you win."
"You'd better get downstairs." He lay back down. "When do you think you'll be back? Maybe I'll take a quick shower while you're gone."
My pulse quickened at his words. Okay, get your mind out of the gutter, Care. "Well, the cab ride will be about five minutes each way, another ten to get my stuff—I'd say in about a half hour or so."
"Perfect." He removed his sneakers and tossed them on the floor. "I'll order us some food from the Starlight on the Lagoon restaurant when you get back."
I'd seen their menu. That place made Loco Moco Café look like McDonalds by price comparison. "They're way too expensive. You don't have to—"
Keanu narrowed his eyes. "Carrie, please let me do this."
I sighed in resignation. "Okay, sounds good. And thank you." My voice quivered with emotion. "For everything."
He flashed me a gleaming white smile. "My pleasure."
I arrived downstairs just in time to see a cab pull up at the curb. The driver was a heavyset Polynesian man who nodded politely at me. "Miss Jorgenson?"
Fortunately I knew Vivian's address, or this might have been embarrassing. With no car, it was difficult for me to offer someone driving directions. Her address had been easy for me to remember though—77 Kilo Drive.
When we pulled up in front of the building, I tried to pay the driver, but he assured me that the fare and tip had already been taken care of. My heart warmed to Keanu and how generous he was.
"Will you wait for me?" I asked the driver. "I won't be long."
He smiled and nodded. "Take your time, Miss."
I didn't want to take my time though. This was costing Keanu money. It didn't matter how much cash he or his parents might have—I didn't like taking advantage of anyone. I lifted the mat outside of Vivian's apartment and grabbed the key, turned it in the lock, opened the door, and hesitated.
"Viv?" I called.
There was no answer, and I breathed a sigh of relief. How embarrassing would it be to come in and find Vivian and her date kissing or, worse, in bed together? I grabbed my cosmetic bag and suitcase then looked around to see if I'd missed anything.
Benny meowed in greeting. It looked like I'd just interrupted his nap. He was perched on the top of Lola's cardboard boxes in the corner of the room. He must have jumped from the back of the couch to get up there. He stood and stretched his legs, making a squeaking sound in the process. He boldly jumped off the stack and sent the top box tumbling to the floor. A large book, papers, and photos scattered everywhere, and he meowed again, as if pleased with himself.
I groaned. "Come on, Ben. I'm in a hurry here." I sank to my knees and began to pick up the mess. Cripes. Why hadn't Lola taped these boxes tighter? Benny proceeded to rub his body against mine, purring with the intensity of a vacuum cleaner.
I laughed and stopped for a minute to pet him. "Okay. Be a good boy and let me clean this up."
The book was actually an album. Memory Lane was printed across the front of the leather-bound cover in gold block letters. I quickly shoved the photos back inside, barely glancing at them. I knew they were out of order, but what could I do? I'd have to apologize to Lola later.
"Jeez, Ben," I muttered. "You really made a mess."
There were a few newspaper articles mixed in with the papers, and some had yellowed with age. I carefully inserted them back into the bursting plastic pages, hoping they would not tear. My eyes caught the headline of the last one.
Three locals were killed in a horrific car accident last evening…
Bile rose in the back of my throat. Why did Lola have a copy of this article? It was the same one I'd found in Hale's desk. What did the accident have to do with her? Did she know Hale and his parents from years ago?
There was something Lola had said the night of Hale's murder that had seemed odd at the time, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember. A detail that I had managed to overlook. I tried to concentrate. All of a sudden, the light switch clicked on in my brain, and I sucked in some air. There was only one person who would have the answer to my question. I needed to call Detective Ray immediately. He might not talk to me, but I had to try.
My cell wasn't in my purse. What had I done with it? I racked my brain trying to remember. I'd last seen it on the pier that afternoon when I'd been there with Keanu. We were about to kiss, and I'd laid it on the beams. Then Lola had startled us, and we'd run back to the Loco Moco Café. Ugh. I left my phone on the pier. Please let it still be there.
There was a tear on the side of the box, and I couldn't remember if it had been there before. I stood on a chair and managed to lift the box back on top of the others. I gave Benny another pat on the head, left the key on the coffee table as Vivian instructed me to do, and turned the lock on the door before closing it. The driver was quick to get out of the car and help me load my suitcase into the back.
He watched me with genuine concern. "Are you all right, Miss? You don't look well."
That was an understatement. "Is there any way I could use your cell for a minute? I lost mine this afternoon. It's very important."
He reached into his pants pocket and handed it to me. "Not a problem. Help yourself."
Shoot. I couldn't remember Detective Ray's number. I could dial for police help and track him that way, but I did remember Keanu's, so I went that route. I prayed he'd pick up even though I knew he wouldn't recognize the number.
"Hello." His tired voice was low and sounded sexy.
"It's me," I whispered.
Keanu came to life on the other end. "Where are you? Is something wrong?"
"I'm on the cabbie's cell. I think I left mine at the pier this afternoon. Do you have Detective Ray's number?"
"Carrie, what's wrong?"
I noticed the driver watching me in the rear view mirror. "I'll tell you everything when I get back."
Keanu recited the number. "He's not going to give you any information."
"I'm aware of that. But he may be willing to answer another question I have. Li
sten, let me phone him before I forget the number. I'll call you back."
"Carrie—"
I disconnected and quickly dialed Detective Ray's number. "Please pick up. Please pick up."
"Ray Kahoalani."
Relief flooded through me. "Detective Ray, this is Carrie Jorgenson from Loco Moco Café."
"What can I do for you, Carrie?"
I clutched the phone tightly in my sweaty hand. "I'm hoping that you might give me some particulars about Hale's death. There are details that have escaped my memory."
The silence on the other end was deafening. "I'm not sure what you're suggesting."
I wasn't sure what I was suggesting either. "Detective Ray, I'm positive that Poncho didn't do this. Why would someone be trying to frame both him and me? It doesn't make sense."
"Carrie, I don't share details of my investigation with anyone except my coworkers. No offense, but I especially would never share them with someone who's under suspicion for committing the crime, either."
How nice. "But people already know details," I protested. "They were asking me the other day about how I'd found Hale."
"I'm not sure what you're getting at," Detective Ray said. "This is why suspects are questioned separately. No one would know anything about you finding Hale—unless you told them yourself. I don't divulge that information, ever." I heard him talking to someone in the background. "Carrie, I'm afraid I have to let you go. I'm in the middle of another investigation. Why don't you give me a call back later?"
"Okay," I whispered into the phone but was already talking to dead air. I looked up and saw that the cabbie was turned around in his seat, watching me. We were in front of the resort.
I handed the phone back to him. "Thank you so much." When I tried to give him a ten-dollar bill, he refused again. "Already taken care of, Miss."
"Please take it," I urged. "It's my way of thanking you for the use of your phone." Then I remembered about mine. "Could you possibly get a bellboy to take my luggage up to suite 505? I need to walk over to the pier first."
"I can drive you," he offered.
"Not necessary," I said. "Thanks again."
The truth was that I wanted to walk, for my brain was a mass of jumbled confusion. As I hurried toward the pier, I went over the night of the murder in my head again, trying to see what I was missing.
Keanu had helped me back to the patio after I got sick. I had talked to Detective Ray, Keanu drove me back to my apartment, the confrontation with Brad—no wait. Someone had called before that. Detective Ray had left a message for me about coming in the next day, but there had been another call.
The tiki torches shone in the darkened sky as the palm trees whipped in the wind, and I felt a spatter of rain from above. Maybe I should have taken the cabbie up on his offer. I hated the dark, especially when paired with deep water and my lack of swimming skills. This wasn't exactly my favorite choice of places to be right now. No one was around because of the weather. The tide had turned, and the usual gentle waves rocked against the wooden beams with great force. I couldn't wait to get back to my cozy room for the night—and of course, Keanu.
Lola had called me after I found Hale's body. What had she said to me? I sucked in some air as her words slowly registered, hitting me like a blunt slap to the face.
That had to be horrible for you to find him like that.
An ice-cold chill ran down my back. Yes, that was it. How had Lola known I'd found Hale's body when I hadn't told her yet? At the time I'd assumed Detective Ray mentioned it to her when he called. Sure, he wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but even he wouldn't have divulged that. So how had Lola known?
Because she'd been there—inside the café—watching me.
I spotted my phone lying on the pier and sank down next to it with my hands against the beams, trying to steady myself. The pieces were finally starting to fit together. As I scrolled through my contacts for Detective Ray's number, hands shaking, the nearest tiki light went out, and I was submerged into semidarkness.
"Hello?" I yelled. Could the wind have blown it out?
I heard the sound of someone running toward me and could see the outline of a shadow. Before I could even attempt to react, something flat and hard connected with my forehead. The phone shot out of my hands, and my face smacked against the hard surface. That was going to leave a mark.
I moaned and struggled into a sitting position. My head was reeling, and my stomach was tied in knots. The surrounding blackness did nothing to help as I fought to remain conscious. Even in the dark, my world did somersaults. A sharp object, perhaps the heel of shoe, pierced me in the side. I cried out in pain and collapsed on my stomach, hugging the side of the pier in desperate panic.
"You should have stayed out of this, Carrie."
The voice was soft and demure in the darkness, and I slowly turned my head in the direction it came from. I couldn't see who the voice belonged to, but that didn't matter. I already knew who it was.
Lola.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"You were in Vivian's apartment—looking at my album," Lola said. "Something or someone tipped you off, so you went to investigate."
I groaned and managed to sit up, but Lola pushed me down again. She was holding something in her hand—my phone. In the dim light I saw her face as she stared menacingly down at me. She was wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her head. Her eyes paralyzed me with fear. While sweet and Bambi-like before, they brimmed with hatred now. Her intention was apparent. She planned to kill me.
Lola giggled. "I figured you might be up to something, so I've been following you around all evening. I got back to Vivian's right after you drove away in the cab. I saw the box had a slight tear in it when I removed it from the pile, so it was obvious that you'd gone through it."
I said nothing as I tried to grope my way around in the dark. The sky suddenly burst open, and the rain descended from it like a cleansing shower, as if whispering for me to confess the truth. "The woman in the other car—she was your mother. Hale killed his parents and your mother in that car accident back in 1997."
There was silence for a moment, with the exception of Lola's heavy breathing. Then she put her hands together in a mock clap. "Little Miss Detective. You're better than I thought. How did you make the connection?"
I wanted to rise to my feet and charge her but suspected she must have a weapon. She'd hit me with something—what it was I couldn't be sure. Plus I was dizzy and couldn't see well. Not to mention that I was terrified. If I took a step in the wrong direction, I might plunge into the water below. I continued to sit there, helpless, praying someone might come along.
She kicked me, and my face hit the concrete again. "I asked you a question."
"Don't," I groaned feebly. "Hale had the same article in his desk. It was an accident. He didn't mean to kill her. He lost his parents too."
Her response was to kick me viciously in the back of the leg, and I cried out. "It doesn't matter. I had to grow up without a mother because of him. Do you know what that's like?"
Actually, I did. "Yes."
"Don't make jokes!" she screamed. "He should have rotted away in jail for what he did. Instead, he went on to inherit his parents' business, while my father had to borrow money to pay for funeral expenses." She hiccupped back a sob. "He ruined my life."
"So is that why you took the job here—to kill him? Did you grow up in Aloha Lagoon?" It hurt to talk. Tiny men were running around inside my head with hammers, merrily pounding away at the surface.
Lola wiped her eyes. "I actually grew up in Lihue. My mother was in Oahu for the weekend at some banking conference for her job. She was on her way home to me and my father when the accident happened. Later, when I was old enough to understand what Hale had done, I vowed to myself that someday I'd find Hale and let him know exactly what I thought of him."
She paused for breath. "About six months ago, I moved here and came into the Loco Moco with a friend for lunch. I had to see hi
m for myself, you know? Thought I'd spit on him and then leave. But there was a sign in the window for a server. I had experience, so I applied for the job and got it. At first I just wanted to learn more about the accident. I bided my time for a while, and then about a month later, hit pay dirt. He was standing at the register, talking to some old guy who'd known his parents. The guy mentioned the accident, and you know what Hale said?" Her voice rose to a high accolade. "He told him it was the girl in the other car's fault. He blamed the entire accident on my own mother!"
She started to wail, the sound resembling a wounded animal. The noise intermixed with the screaming wind around us. "Hale Akamu killed my mother and deserved to die. He was a hideous pig."
"But you tried to frame an innocent man," I argued. "You used Poncho's knife for the murder. This was right after Alana said he had threatened to kill Hale. You knew he'd be implicated." I slowly crawled forward in her direction. I couldn't judge the distance to the other side very well but knew it wasn't far to the edge.
Lola snorted. "Not my problem. He's already got a rap sheet, so what's the big deal about adding another murder to it?"
She laughed then, a cold, hollow one that formed icicles between my shoulder blades. "I decided to throw suspicion on everyone, including myself, to confuse that detective. If you remember, I planted a sheet from Keanu's order pad on Hale's body. I found Vivian's bracelet earlier when it fell off her wrist and placed it inside Hale's pocket for good measure. The piece of pineapple was for my benefit, since I'd been talking about it earlier to you and Vivian. If I was going to incriminate everyone, I couldn't forget about myself, right? That would have made me look even more obvious. I told Detective Ray, and he ate it up, so to speak."
"Nice moves," I muttered.
"And of course, I couldn't forget you. Sweet and innocent Carrie, the newbie. That's why I planted the knife in your bag. Poncho's favorite knife. It was easy to confuse the cops, and kind of fun too. You should be proud of yourself. You figured it out before they did. Very impressive since you didn't have much to go on."
Death of the Big Kahuna Page 18
