“Come on, Bardon. Back off. Are you even looking for Bautista?”
“Of course. We’re just not finding him. We found his car abandoned up by Punchbowl. He didn’t show up for work today.”
“Where does he work?” Roland demanded.
“He’s a line cook at La Mariana Sailing Club, a restaurant connected to a small marina near Sand Island,” Bardon said.
Yet another stop on Em’s tiki bar tour that she wasn’t going to get to research while she was here.
“Do you have men watching Bautista’s apartment at the Lokelani?”
“We already got a warrant. My men searched the place and said it’s obvious he doesn’t live there. He only uses it for a storage shed. There’s not even a bed in the place. It’s piled with boxes full of garage sale stuff and what they described as tourist information crap. Old books. Magazines. It’s a definite hoarding situation. The neighbors confirmed he doesn’t live there. Some of them never laid eyes on him until they saw him and Johnson yelling at each other in the street.
“We’re trying to find out if Bautista has any family on island. No one at La Mariana knows where he lives. He pretty much goes to work, does his job, and keeps to himself. Much like you, Ms. Johnson, the folks who work with him claim Bautista’s not capable of murder.”
“What about Felicity Duncan?” Em knotted her fingers together below the tabletop.
“As you know, her whereabouts last night are accounted for,” Bardon said.
“Her claim that Johnson misrepresented himself is certainly motive,” Roland reminded him.
Bardon nodded. “So far her alibi is airtight. We can’t place her at the scene.”
“You can’t place me there either,” Em said.
“We’re not going to stop looking for Bautista. Someone killed your ex-husband, Mrs. Johnson. Hopefully it won’t take long to find out who. As soon as I have one shred of concrete evidence, we’ll make an arrest.”
“When you find the notebook, will you let us know?” Roland asked.
“Sure.” Bardon folded the copy of Phillip’s letter along with the printout from the security camera. “But even if we find it, we’ll have to hold it as evidence.”
“Understood,” Roland said.
“I trust you won’t let Mrs. Johnson out of your sight.”
Roland assured him that he wouldn’t. After the detective walked away, Roland turned to Em and slipped his arm around her shoulder in a surprising public display of affection. “This is going to be the easiest assignment I’ve ever had.” He pulled her closer.
She found herself fighting tears. “Will you visit me in prison?”
“Sure. I know some pretty creative ways to smuggle in a key.”
32
THE SUN WAS SETTING, and the tiki torches were lit when Kiki and the Maidens, along with their new sidekicks, the Kamakanis, arrived at Tiki’s Grill and Bar on the second floor lanai of the Waikiki Beach Hotel.
The girls were outfitted to the hilt in matching red and white print skirts with black sleeveless tops. The Kamakanis stood around intimidating lingering tourists until they left, and the group commandeered eight tables.
Near the Diamond Head end of the strip, the restaurant overlooked both Kalakaua Avenue and the beach. Giant carved tikis greeted guests at the entrance and were scattered around the lanai and the inside dining room. Tiki masks and artifacts from all over Polynesia decorated the walls. Colorful rows of tiki mugs lined the bar.
A trio of young Hawaiians was playing contemporary rock/ Hawaiian tunes on a small stage the size of a slice of sashimi. They weren’t great, but they were loud enough that everyone had to shout to be heard. The only thing Kiki admired about them was the pattern on the fabric of their aloha shirts.
The Maidens all ordered Ocean Potions, drinks made with three kinds of rum, three liqueurs, and a splash of pineapple juice served in coconut shells. They ordered every pupu on the menu until their tables were littered with plates of torched ahi, coconut shrimp, poisson cru, a Tahitian version of ceviche, and prime rib poke.
After a couple of Ocean Potions each, the gals were cackling like a yard full of Kauai hens. Most of the newly arrived guests seated at nearby tables were tourists. They didn’t even pretend not to be watching the Maidens’ every move.
Feeling no pain, Kiki decided it was high time to call a Hula Maiden meeting to order. She tapped her fork against her water glass until she had the others’ attention. Then she leaned in close to the table and lowered her voice. “Can everybody hear me?”
Most of them nodded. Little Estelle’s scooter was parked at the end of the table. She’d spent a long day partying with the Shriners and threw a fit when Big Estelle insisted she leave the Hilton. Now she was passed out on her tray.
Precious had to kneel on her chair so that she could lean in closer.
“What’s up?” Pat wanted to know.
“We have to put our heads together and help Louie,” Kiki said.
“Help him what?” Big Estelle reached for a coconut shrimp and popped it into her mouth.
Kiki sipped on the straw sticking out of the coconut shell before she explained. “He has to get his Booze Bible back. Tomorrow’s Saturday. We leave on Sunday. There’s no time to waste.”
“Do you have a plan?” Trish wanted to know.
“Of course. I had Suzi google some info about the murder while she was laid up today. So far the police haven’t found the notebook. They haven’t found the neighbor yet who argued with Em’s ex either. The police are calling him a person of interest, which is police code for the sucker did it. Suzi got the address of the apartment building where it took place. I think it’s time we go undercover.”
“Em said not to do anything,” Trish reminded her.
“When do we ever listen?”
“Sounds like good advice to me,” Lillian sniffed. Her entire neck was streaked with melting foundation. No one had the heart to tell her, fearing the waterworks she’d turn on.
“We can’t go undercover anymore. We’re the Hula Maidens now.” Big Estelle waved her hand around, pointing out all the people staring at them.
“Going undercover is a figure of speech. We’ll get into that apartment as ourselves. We can’t just sit around and let Louie down,” Kiki said. “Who knows? Maybe if we help solve the case we’ll get a proclamation from the mayor of Honolulu.”
“Or the governor,” Flora added.
“So what’s the plan?” Four empty coconuts were lined up in front of Pat, who cradled her injured hand in her lap.
“You and I will pump Em for some info in the a.m., and then we’ll all head over to the murder scene and see if we can come up with some clue the police overlooked.” Kiki adjusted the huge faux floral hairpiece pinned near her left ear.
“We should have brought our two-way radios,” Pat said.
“Who knew we’d have to fight crime on vacation?” Trish said.
“Crime never takes a vacation,” Kiki said.
Lillian raised her hand. “I vote we don’t do this. Em has Roland and the whole HPD here to solve the murder.”
“Em’s not herself. She has too much to worry about right now to be thinking straight,” Kiki said. “Anyone who doesn’t want to go on the reconnaissance mission tomorrow, raise your hand.”
Lillian started to raise her hand until Big Estelle shot her a nasty glare, and she lowered it again.
“Great. Then we’re all in agreement.” Kiki ate the last coconut shrimp and looked around for the waitress. “Pat and I will get as much info out of Em as we can before we take off in the van in the morning. All of you need to be dressed and ready by nine.”
Flora moaned. “Nine? In the morning?”
“Okay, then make it ten. Now, on to our next topic of discussion,” Kiki sa
id.
“When do we start dancing?” Flora wanted to know.
“Well . . . that’s the next topic. There could be a little problem,” Kiki began.
“Don’t tell me,” Trish said. “You don’t have permission from management, do you?”
“No, but after casing the joint, I’ve decided if we leave a lookout on the corner of the balcony overlooking Kalakaua, she can give the high sign if the cops leave the substation across the street and head this way.”
Kiki sent Pat over to the Kamakanis to tell them to take over the stage as soon as the rock trio took a break. Then she looked around for the waitress to order another drink. A young man wearing a black Tiki’s staff shirt walked up to Kiki with a big smile on his face.
“I’d like to order one more of those coconut bowl concoctions.” She batted her false lashes. “How much longer until these guys take a break?”
He glanced at his watch. “About five minutes. Are they too loud for you, ma’am?”
“Five minutes, that’s great. They’re not too loud, just not my style. You know what they say? If it’s too loud, you’re too old.”
“I never heard that one, auntie,” he said.
“Is your manager around? If he is, I’d like to talk to him for a minute,” Kiki said.
“I’m sorry. I hope everything is all right for you tonight.”
“Perfect, I just have a question.”
She was happy that he didn’t press her about her question. He’d no sooner walked away than an older version of the waiter came up to the table also wearing a black shirt with the Tiki Grill and Bar logo embroidered on it.
“Aren’t you Kiki Godwin of Trouble in Paradise?” He extended his hand and introduced himself as the night manager. “I thought I recognized you ladies when you walked in. This is a real treat to have you here. What can I do to make your evening perfect?”
Kiki smiled up with the most innocent look she could muster. “We’d love to dance for you and your customers,” she said.
He looked over at the postage stamp they called a stage. “We don’t have a lot of room.”
“We’ve danced in shoe boxes before,” she laughed. “We’ll spread out around the tables.”
The trio on the stage announced they were going on break and unplugged their guitars.
“Well, that’s perfect timing,” Kiki said. Behind her, the Kamakanis were already on their feet heading toward the stage with their instruments. “How about a couple of numbers? Would that be all right?”
The manager looked around. Guests seated at nearby tables were hanging on Kiki’s every word. They nodded encouragement.
“Let them dance,” one woman encouraged. “I can’t wait to tell everybody back home I saw the Hula Maidens perform live.”
The manager glanced at the stage where the Kamakanis were already lining up chairs.
“A couple numbers would be okay. Just make sure the waitresses can get to the tables.”
Kiki jumped up. “Come on, ladies. Let’s give these folks a show they’ll never forget.”
33
EM WALKED INTO the sitting room of the suite. The air conditioning had to be set to forty below. The drapes were drawn and the lights were low. Louie was behind the efficiency kitchen bar humming “My Tiki Goddess,” the song he wrote in memory of his late wife, Irene Kakaulanipuakaulani Hickam Marshall. He sang it every evening at the Goddess at the end of the evening entertainment.
“Aloha, Em,” he called out. “I haven’t seen you for hours!”
“Roland and I have been busy. You sound happy.” It was good to see him smiling.
“Is it too dark in here for you? I’m trying to replicate a bar mood.”
“It’s not too dark, just cold.”
“I’m still experimenting with flaming drinks.” He waved a lighter wand around, clicking the flame off and on. “Feel free to turn up the air. Or better yet, open the sliding doors, but leave the drapes closed. Where is Roland?”
“He went to Pearl City to have dinner with one of his cousins. We ran into him today when we had lunch at the Moana. He invited me too, but I thought I’d spend a quiet night in.”
“And the girls?”
“They’re dancing at Tiki’s Grill and Bar at the other end of Kalakaua. I hope they won’t get hauled off to jail tonight.”
“If they do, just leave them in the clink. You know they let the monkey escape?”
“I know. I stopped by earlier. I also heard you gave the owner a big deposit.”
Louie waved his hand. “I did, but I’m not worried. He’ll get the monkey back. There have been plenty of sightings.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “The owner thinks the monkey is probably confused by all the Shriners. So many other guys in fezzes around. So far it’s having a great time on the loose, tormenting kids at the Super Pool, sneaking into a Japanese wedding reception to take advantage of all the sushi and champagne. Luckily the bride and groom got a kick out of it.”
“No one’s tried to catch it?”
“Security, but it’s small and quick. It climbs trees, leaps from one to another and up onto balconies and slips in and out of hotel rooms.”
“Food, water, drinks. That thing could live here forever,” she said. “What about your deposit?”
“I saw the owner coming out of a Shriners meeting. I told him the way I see it, he should have to catch it, not me. I told him he’s lucky Pat and Kiki aren’t suing over their attack wounds.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the monkey was in my possession when it bit Pat and attacked Kiki. He says it escaped from our suite, so it’s still my problem. Its name is Alphonse, by the way.”
Em wandered over to the bar and spotted an open bag of chocolate kisses, pulled one out, and unwrapped it.
“So, did you and Roland find out if dePesto wrote the extortion letter?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. In fact, it’s very complicated.” She popped the kiss in her mouth.
“I need those for my recipe.” Louie grabbed the bag and rolled down the top. “Did I tell you I made the qualifying round with points to spare? After all the question and answer stuff we had to put together a mixed fruit juice concoction. I did something simple and it worked.”
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“So how do you know dePesto is innocent?”
“We found out who left the extortion letters.” Em braced herself. “It was my ex-husband.”
“What? Phillip? Why would he? Sorry, but that’s just crazy. You never did tell me what happened. I thought you two must have had a nice lunch. Why would he hurt us like that?”
For the first time since she walked into the suite he totally ignored his bottles and glasses and stared at her. He looked so rattled she hated to go on.
“Apparently he needed money. When he read about you in the LA Times they also mentioned the Booze Bible and how you’d been creating drinks your whole life and recording the recipes in it. He thought he could get us to pay for its return.”
“So is he behind bars?” He glanced over to the sofa where she’d set her purse. “Do you have the Booze Bible?”
For once Kiki and the others had kept quiet. He knew nothing of Phillip’s murder yet.
“By the way, you don’t look so good,” he said. “Wait. I’ve got something for you.”
He held up his index finger and turned to some bags on the counter. He pulled out a bottle of Patron. “I got this to thank you for what you tried to do last night. That was dangerous, Em. I wish you hadn’t done it on your own, but thanks for trying.”
He poured two shots. They clinked glasses in a toast. Louie sipped his. Em knocked it back and grimaced.
“Does
Roland have the Booze Bible?” he asked.
“No. The police have been looking for it, but even if they find it, they’ll have to hold it as evidence in a murder investigation.”
“Murder? Who was murdered?” He looked confused, raised the Patron, and offered a refill.
She shook her head no. “Phillip. He’s dead. Someone killed him.”
“When?” Louie came around the kitchen bar and sat on a barstool beside her.
“Sometime last night. They called me to the scene this morning to identify the body. I’m so thankful Roland is here. We spent the rest of the day tracking down the extortionist’s identity and trying to figure out who killed Phillip and why.”
“Aw, Em. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. Even though there was no love lost between Phillip and me, I’d have never wished him dead. Not in a million years.” She blinked back tears.
“Of course not. If you want to go back to Kauai, we can leave tomorrow.”
“You’d drop out of the contest for me?”
“I’d do anything for you, honey. You came to my rescue and pulled the Goddess out of debt when I needed you. You say the word, and we’re outta here.”
Em hugged him for a moment. “I wish I could, but I can’t leave right now. The police need me to stay, and I may have to make arrangements for Phillip. His fiancée is out of the picture, and he had me listed as next of kin on an old emergency card.”
“His fiancée is out of the picture? Why?”
“She has an alibi. There are only two other suspects the police are looking at right now. One is a guy who lived next door to a seedy apartment Phillip had just rented. The other is me.”
Louie slammed his palm on the bar. “That’s nuts. I’m going down to the HPD and have a little talk with whoever is in charge of the investigation.”
Em could just imagine Louie sitting down with Bardon. “No, you are going to focus on winning that contest tomorrow. I’m going to try my darnedest to be there to cheer you on. What time do you think you’ll be mixing?”
Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) Page 18
