Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series)

by Jill Marie Landis

  Flora nodded. “Sure did. Sucker didn’t know what hit ’em.”

  Roland nudged Em’s elbow, and they moved closer to where Bardon was interviewing Kiki. Kiki was saying, “So we went to Chinatown, where we found out he’d given a false address on his employee card at La Mariana Sailing Club. I called the bartender, and he said Bautista might be here at the swap meet, which made perfect sense.”

  “How did that make sense?” Bardon’s expression looked like he hadn’t yet made much sense out of any of her story.

  Kiki shrugged. “Because after we saw all that stuff in his apartment—”

  “You broke into his apartment?” Bardon stopped taking notes and stared at her.

  “Sure. That part was child’s play.”

  “I’d call it breaking and entering,” the detective said.

  “We didn’t break in. We were escorted by the manager, Melvin. Nice guy. A little taken with himself though.”

  “So Kline let you in.” Bardon was writing again.

  “Don’t blame him, though. Flora is Bautista’s cousin. That’s why he let us in. Aren’t you, Flora?” Kiki yelled to Flora across the aisle.

  “Aren’t I what?”

  “Damian’s cousin.”

  “Sure.”

  “I doubt that,” Bardon said. “I seriously doubt it.”

  Flora stood up and ambled over to where Damian was seated. She nudged him with the toe of her rubber slipper then leaned over him. “Say you my cousin,” she said.

  Bautista looked over at the detective.

  “We’re cousins,” he mumbled through swollen lips. “For shua.”

  Bardon stared at the slight Portuguese man and then rotund Flora.

  “Exactly how are you related?” he asked Flora.

  “Way back,” Flora said.

  “Must be way, way back.” Bardon frowned down at his notes. “So go on,” he prompted Kiki. “You saw the stuff in his apartment and then what?”

  “I could see that he was a collector. All the stuff in there was old Hawaiiana. There’s a big market for that kind of thing online. There has been for years.” She waved her hand at the collectibles booth. “That booth is full of it. Same stuff I saw in his apartment. When I saw what was inside the apartment I thought, ah, ha!”

  “Ah, ha.” Bardon nodded. “Ah, ha what?”

  “Ah, ha, Bautista probably has the Booze Bible. The one piece of the puzzle that ties him to the murder. He saw it when Em’s ex-husband had it, he wanted it, and he wanted it bad enough to kill for it. He was pissed at her ex anyway.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” Bautista yelled and winced.

  “He was angry enough to kill Phillip Johnson without the notebook,” Bardon said.

  “If he wasn’t guilty, why would he run?” Kiki asked. “But you still need something to link him to the apartment. Right?”

  Pat stepped closer and held up an insulated bag. “Here you go. He had this in his possession. The minute we saw it, we took him down,” she said. “It’s Uncle Louie’s Booze Bible. Bautista had to have taken it from Em’s ex’s apartment after he killed him. Whether the murder was because he wanted the notebook or ’cause he was mad don’t really matter, does it? He still killed Johnson, and Em sure as heck didn’t.”

  Em grabbed Roland’s hand and squeezed it. Louie’s notebook was safe.

  “They found it,” she whispered. “They did it.”

  Bardon took the bag from Pat and looked inside before he handed it off.

  “I didn’t kill anybody!” Bautista shouted, struggling against the handcuffs.

  “Fat chance,” Kiki yelled back.

  “Okay, I’ve heard enough for now,” Bardon announced. To one of the uniformed officers he said, “Read him his rights. We’ll take his statement at headquarters.” Then to Kiki, “What you ladies did today is wrong on so many levels.”

  “We were just looking out for one of our own, that’s all. No way did Em kill her ex. That’s ridiculous. You boys were taking too long. We have to hele on back to Kauai on Monday and we needed to find Bautista before then. You really should just say mahalo and stop glaring like that. You’re gonna get creases on your forehead.”

  Pat held out the jar of kukui nut oil. “This might help with those crow’s feet around your eyes.”

  Bardon ignored her. Two officers helped Bautista up. The man groaned and whimpered. The Maidens collected their bags and purses.

  Kiki spotted Em and Roland for the first time.

  “We got Louie’s Booze Bible,” she called out.

  Em hurried over and hugged her. “I saw, and I can’t thank you enough.” Aware of Roland standing right behind her, Em said, “I can’t thank you enough, but you shouldn’t have done this, Kiki.”

  Bardon was still within hearing distance. He turned to Em. “I should have known you were behind this somehow.”

  “I had no idea they were going to do anything,” she said.

  Kiki backed her up. “She didn’t. She’d never have condoned this. She’s not into covert action. Is she, ladies?”

  “Never. No way.” The Maidens all piped up from wherever they were in the area.

  All around the immediate vicinity officers were questioning other vendors. The skinny man who had been in the collectibles booth with Bautista was in the process of being handcuffed. Other vendors were helping to pack up his things.

  “What did he do?” Em asked Bardon.

  “Aiding and abetting. He had Bautista hidden in the white van in back.”

  “Can we go now?” Kiki asked the detective.

  Bardon didn’t hide his frustration. “That’s it for now. Don’t leave Honolulu until I give you the okay.”

  Kiki was smiling as she turned away.

  To Em he said, “Unfortunately, you can’t have your uncle’s notebook, but I’ll personally make sure nothing happens to it. Ms. Godwin was right. It does tie Bautista to your husband’s apartment, since Johnson was trying to extort money for its return.” He watched the officers lead Bautista’s cohort out of the booth. “I’m sure Bautista will cave and confess once we get him to the station.”

  “I’d like to observe the interrogation,” Roland said. “As a visiting police officer.”

  “Sure, whatever,” Bardon said. Then he looked at Em. “But not you.”

  “Of course not.” Em would like nothing better than to sit in on the interrogation. She hoped Bautista would be chained to table in a room with a two-way mirror.

  Roland said, “She’d coming with me, though. She’ll wait outside the room.”

  “Fine.”

  They started to follow Bardon as he walked along the aisle toward the squad cars. The Maidens were making their way along as well. Precious trailed behind them, hunched over the wooden tiki as she rolled it down the aisle. The sun was relentless. Sweat was streaming down her face.

  “I’ll take that,” Roland said.

  Relief wreathed her face in a wide smile. She stepped back, and Roland upended the tiki and picked it up with no effort.

  “Where’s your van?” he asked.

  “Pat ran ahead to get it. We’re going to wait by the police cars, and she’ll pick us up. The girls can help me get the tiki inside.”

  Roland carried it to the end of the aisle where the others were waiting.

  “You two go on. Make sure Bautista doesn’t give them the slip at headquarters,” Kiki urged.

  “No way he’s going anywhere,” Roland assured her. “You ladies sure did a number on him.”

  “Mahalo.” Kiki smiled.

  “That wasn’t a compliment,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “I’m afraid for you to return to Kauai.” Roland wasn’t laughing.

  Em was
amazed at how Kiki remained undaunted by his dark expression.

  “You could always deputize us,” she said. “I think we’re better at fighting crime than we are dancing hula.”

  42

  ONCE THEY REACHED Honolulu Police Headquarters on Beretania Street in downtown Honolulu, Em told Roland she’d wait for him on the front steps. The sun was setting, and she needed some fresh air.

  “I think you should wait inside,” he said.

  She shook her head no. “There’s probably not a safer place to wait than on the steps of police headquarters. Besides, need to give Louie a call and check in.”

  Roland went inside, and Em sat down on the top of the wide concrete steps and pulled out her cell.

  “Where did you say you are?” Louie yelled into the phone. “I can’t hear you.”

  It definitely sounded like he was in the middle of a wild celebration. She told him she was at HPD headquarters waiting for Roland.

  Then she added, “The police have your Booze Bible. It’s safe, but they’re holding it as evidence.”

  “Are you kidding? They found it?”

  “The Hula Maidens are responsible. They tracked down Bautista, that’s Phillip’s neighbor suspected of the murder. Since he had the notebook, he had to have been in Phillip’s place. Are the girls back yet?”

  “No.”

  “They should be there any minute. I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate with you.” She didn’t know if he heard her. There was a loud roar on the other end of the line. “What’s everybody yelling?”

  “Cha cha cha, cha cha cha!”

  “Is that a conga line?”

  “No, Little Estelle is dancing with Alphonse. She’s the only woman he can tolerate. Maybe because she’s not much taller and they’re both wrinkled.”

  “Maybe she can she coax him into his cage.”

  “What?”

  Em was the only one on the steps at the moment so she yelled, “Can she coax him into his cage so you can get your deposit back?”

  “Oh, I doubt it. He’s smarter than that. Are you going to be able to make it back in time for the awards ceremony?”

  Em rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm. She’d nearly forgotten all about it.

  “I hope so. What time is it again?”

  “Not until eight.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you there.”

  She hoped they could make it back in time. At the very least she might be able to slip in before it was over. The lights of Honolulu were starting to going on. As in any large city, people were on the move. The traffic was bumper to bumper. Some of the cabs sneaked in and out of lanes while others just sat and waited.

  A handful of minutes away down in Waikiki people were enjoying the end of a beautiful day with cocktails on the beach or sailing on sunset cruises. Oahu had the same cooling trade winds as Kauai, the same sunsets and velvet air, but the pace of life and heartbeats of the two islands were polar opposites.

  She thought about Sophie, Tiko, and Buzzy working the Goddess dinner hour and hoped all was going well. She doubted Sophie would call to bother them and was thankful that for such a young gal, Sophie had a great head on her shoulders. If a crisis arose, she’d try to handle it.

  Em seriously doubted there would be much going on, nothing that might spell disaster. After all, the Hula Maidens were on Oahu, doubly ensuring all was well on Kauai.

  Almost an hour went by before Roland appeared. Em even didn’t realize he was there until he sat down beside her. He didn’t volunteer any information, just sat there with his shoulder pressed against hers.

  “How did it go?” she finally asked.

  “Bautista swears he didn’t kill Johnson. I don’t think he’s going to break. He’s sticking to his story.”

  “Which is?”

  “He confirmed he and Phillip got into a shouting match over a parking space outside the Lokelani. Bautista was about to back into a spot when Phillip honked once and snaked his smaller car into the space. Bautista waved and yelled, but Phillip flipped him off.”

  “That sounds like Phillip.” Back when she was starry-eyed she saw Phillip’s confidence and assertiveness as assets. She’d come to realize he was really an arrogant ass.

  Roland went on. “So Bautista left his car in the middle of the street, got out, marched up to Phillip, and got right in his face. Called him an effing haole among other stuff. The neighbors heard the hassle going down and came out. Phillip was a lot bigger than Bautista, so he didn’t back down, either. More neighbors ran out to watch. Finally the building manager came out and told them both to cool it or he was going to call 9-1-1.”

  “Which is exactly what Melvin said happened.”

  He nodded. “Right. So then Bautista drives off furious and heads for work. The next day, around five thirty a.m., he went back to his apartment, which he uses as a storage shed, and notices the door next to his is slightly open. That place had been empty for a week prior. He listened and heard nothing. Then he pushed the door open with one finger and looked in. He didn’t see anyone at first, but he saw your uncle’s recipe notebook on a side table directly across from the door.

  “He figured the asshole he got in the argument with had rented the apartment and maybe left it open.”

  “So Bautista couldn’t resist,” Em said.

  “Exactly. He wanted to get back at Phillip at that point. So he slips into the apartment, focused on stealing the notebook off the table. He got halfway across the room and sees Phillip’s body, face down in a pool of blood. He was in shock for a minute or two—but not so much that he didn’t go ahead and grab the notebook before running out the door.”

  “Why didn’t he call 9-1-1?”

  “He panicked. He knew everyone had seen him screaming at Phillip the day before, and he was sure they’d think he went back and killed him. He admitted running was a terrible idea.”

  “The worst. That, and he kept the notebook.”

  “Next thing he knew his face was all over the news, and he was afraid to go anywhere.”

  “He still could have turned himself in and explained.”

  “Could have but didn’t. He says he was just too scared. He left his car where the police found it up by Punchbowl and took a bus over to his vendor friend’s place. He begged the guy to let him sleep in his van.”

  “If not in the Lokelani apartment, where does he actually live?”

  “On different boats in the La Mariana Marina, though that’s illegal. The moorings are not for live-aboard owners. He doesn’t own a boat, he just slips aboard them to sleep. He eats his main meal at the restaurant before or after work and showers at the beach. He said if he had another apartment of his own he’d just end up filling it floor to ceiling with stuff and have to move out, and he can’t afford it.”

  “So he was hiding out at the swap meet?”

  “He wasn’t supposed to get out of his friend’s van. It was closing time when Kiki asked for help, and then she mentioned she loved recipe books and would pay top dollar for something unusual. He thought of the notebook and figured that was a way to get rid of it. He never suspected someone like Kiki was setting him up. He was a sitting duck.”

  “Kiki isn’t exactly the stereotypical Hawaii Five-0 babe, but she always seems to get her man. Or woman.”

  A breeze ruffled the loose strands of hair that had escaped Em’s ponytail.

  “You know, I think he’s telling the truth,” Roland said.

  “You do?”

  “I do. Bardon isn’t sure. He’d like to pin this on Bautista and have it wrapped up, but I can tell he’s hesitant.”

  “Why don’t they give him a lie detector test?”

  “They can, but there’s no consensus that polygraph evidence is reliable. They’ll probably find DNA
in the apartment. He admitted he was there, but not when anyone was around to see him. There’s every chance there might be a hair sample or fingerprint somewhere, but he still swears he’s innocent.”

  “If Bautista didn’t kill Phillip, then who did?” She turned to face Roland.

  “Besides you?”

  “Not funny, Roland.”

  “It could have been a random killing. Someone saw Phillip, a haole, obviously with some money, moving in and surprised him. Somehow Phillip came up with the gun. There was a struggle, Phillip was shot.”

  “The robber wiped down the gun and accidentally left the door open? No one heard or saw anything?”

  “In that neighborhood they probably wouldn’t say anything even if they had. The old lady next door keeps her TV booming. No one would know if the shots were coming from the TV or the apartment.”

  Em fell silent, picturing Phillip lying in a pool of blood in the seedy apartment.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What a horrible way to die.”

  “Hopefully the case will be solved, and he can rest in peace.”

  “Hopefully.”

  “Will you have to make arrangements for him?”

  Em shook her head. “I gave the coroner his brother’s name, and they’ll contact him. They probably already have.”

  When she heard Roland’s stomach growl, she realized it was completely dark already.

  She got to her feet and brushed off the back of her pedal pushers.

  “Do you feel like eating?”

  “I promised Louie I’d be there for the Shake Off award ceremony.”

  “You should have a bite. It’s been a long day,” he said.

  She pictured the noise and crowds at the Hilton. The last thing she needed right now were the Hula Maidens and a dancing monkey.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “How would you like something low-key and local?”

  “Low-key and local? Are you talking about you or dinner?”