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

by Jill Marie Landis

“She was exhausted,” he said before he shifted the topic by raising his champagne glass. “Here’s to all of you. You have made winning the Golden Swizzle Stick a blast. Here’s to my motto: Never be boring!”

  Everyone took a drink then Kiki clinked her spoon on her glass to get their attention.

  “Here’s to Louie, the Western Regional Shake Off champ! And remember girls, whatever you do . . .”

  They all chimed in, “Don’t fall down!”

  Kiki turned to Suzi. “You broke our number one rule.”

  Pat hollered, “Should we vote her out?”

  Everyone pretended to vote Suzi out of the Hula Maidens until Suzi shouted, “You think I wanted to break my freaking foot? How about a little compassion?”

  A waiter hurried over to the table and told them to keep it down. They were frightening the tourists.

  “Where’s Little Estelle?” Em noticed the nonagenarian was missing again.

  Big Estelle said, “She had to meet with someone this morning and decided to have breakfast in the room first.”

  “How’s the rap career coming along?” Precious asked.

  “She decided to give it up when she put her song up on a rap website and got some nasty comments. It burst her bubble to find out there were a lot of haters and competitors out. She said she can’t stand the heat, so she’s getting out of the kitchen.”

  “That’s too bad,” Em said.

  Big Estelle leaned in so she didn’t have to shout. “Oh, not to worry. One of the Shriners is a self-published novelist, and he convinced her to write her life story. She was up there making an outline when I left.”

  Em stopped listening. The aqua waters of Waikiki were so tempting Em decided she had time to take a swim. Louie and the others flying back to Kauai had an extended check out and didn’t leave until later this afternoon. After that she’d be getting her own room rather than keep the suite. She asked Kiki if she’d heard anything from Bardon yet.

  “Not yet,” Kiki said. “I told Kimo I might not be home tonight, and he said to stay and shop. Maybe I’ll find a hula class somewhere I can drop in tomorrow and observe.”

  Em knew it was a sure bet Kiki would observe for about five minutes before she jumped in and tried to dance.

  Brunch ended with a round of hugs and kisses. Anticipating a great float in the ocean, Em was upstairs changing into her swimsuit when her cell rang. It was Roland.

  “Can you meet me at the curb at reception in five minutes?”

  “Of course. What’s up?”

  “Hasigawa’s son called. They want to talk.”

  “I’ll be right there.” She grabbed her purse and headed out again.

  45

  ROLAND PULLED UP in his rental car at the same time Em reached the curb. She hopped in and said, “Where are we going?”

  “We’re meeting them at Duke’s. It’s next door to the Moana in the Outrigger Waikiki.”

  “Good. That’s public enough that I won’t have to worry about having my head cut off with a Samari sword.”

  “I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that yet.”

  “Why did Hasigawa call you?”

  He shrugged. “I gave Felicity my card. Maybe he’s calling for her.”

  “Maybe he understood more English than she thought.”

  He wove in and out of traffic the few blocks to the restaurant tucked beneath the high-rise hotel. Like every popular spot, Duke’s was perched right on the beach. Em liked the tiki ambiance, the bamboo and rattan, the photos and memorabilia dedicated to Duke Kahanamoku, the father of international surfing who won Olympic gold and silver medals for freestyle swimming in 1912.

  She was reading a plaque on the wall when Roland nudged her toward the hostess. They were quickly escorted to a table in a corner where Hasigawa and his son, a younger carbon copy, waited. They rose and bowed. Em and Roland bowed, and Roland pulled out a chair for her.

  “Thank you for joining us,” the younger Hasigawa said in carefully worded English.

  “How may I help?” Roland was attentive, formal, but not solicitous.

  Em glanced at Hasigawa, who was watching the exchange intently. She decided that he didn’t speak English, or at least not enough to understand completely.

  “My father is afraid he may have become inadvertently enmeshed in a delicate situation. He said you questioned his dinner companion. He is uncertain what the interview was about, but he now feels it may be of a more serious concern than he first deduced.”

  “Which is?”

  “He thought perhaps Ms. Duncan was being questioned about illegal prostitution. But no money changed hands, my father assured me.”

  “Ms. Duncan was not questioned about illegal prostitution.”

  “That is good to know.”

  “We were determining her alibi for a time period during which her fiancé, Phillip Johnson, was murdered.” Roland spoke clear, precise English without a trace of pidgin so that Hasigawa could understand.

  The son turned and translated for his father in rapid-fire Japanese. Hisigawa’s expression never wavered, but it darkened. His eyes grew icy cold. Em hoped she never got on the bad side of anyone like him.

  “How did your father know to contact me? I wasn’t aware that he understood any English.”

  “His bodyguard speaks but few words, but he made a point to remember your name and that you were from Kauai. His is paid well for such things. It was easy to find your name and phone number on the Internet.”

  “Why not call the Honolulu Police?”

  Hasigawa’s son’s gaze dropped to Roland’s aloha shirt. “Let’s just say he felt he would be more comfortable talking with you.”

  “About what?”

  “He has a reason to believe he may have been drugged the night of my wedding reception, the first night he spent with Ms. Duncan. So you see, he cannot be entirely sure that she was in the suite all evening.”

  Without moving a muscle, his father radiated controlled anger.

  “Why does he think he may have been drugged?” Roland hadn’t pulled out his notebook, which surprised Em. No doubt he wanted to keep the information flowing.

  “He and Ms. Duncan went back to the suite after the wedding reception and opened some bourbon. She poured two drinks.” His gaze flicked over to his father and back to Roland. “My father is used to being served. He left the room, changed into a robe. He came back. He recalls getting into bed.”

  “With Ms. Duncan?”

  “Yes, of course. But the rest is a blur. He slept very deeply and didn’t awaken all night. He woke up early the next morning with a headache and blamed it on having too much to drink at the reception and afterward. Ms. Duncan was in bed beside him. Both of them were nude. They had sex again. All day he felt odd and again, blamed alcohol and perhaps jetlag. Following Ms. Duncan’s interview he has been troubled. He wants to leave this country as he entered, with no encumbrances, so to speak. He wants you to know that he cannot honestly say that Ms. Duncan was in his suite all night long the night in question.”

  “She could have gone anywhere,” Em said aloud.

  The older gentleman looked at her and then away.

  “The other day your father had a man I presumed to be his bodyguard with him.”

  The younger man said, “Yes.”

  “Was he or someone else on watch that evening?”

  During a pause, the son glanced at the father. “Yes. The same man was on watch. Unfortunately, after my father questioned him somewhat intensely today, he admitted that he may have fallen asleep at his post.”

  “Which was?”

  “In the foyer outside the suite.”

  One look at elder Hasigawa’s face, and Em hoped the bodyguard had survived the intense questioning.

/>   Hasigawa’s son studied Roland for a moment, as if sizing him up. She realized he was weighing whether or not he could trust Roland when he said, “We are scheduled to fly back to Japan in three days. My father has much business to attend to, and a delay would be a hardship. I’m sure that you might imagine he would not be comfortable testifying in your court.”

  “Yes. I thought as much,” Roland said.

  “If there is any way to prove Ms. Duncan left the room that evening—”

  “If we’re in luck there is.” Roland looked at Em.

  “The hallway video feed,” she said.

  He nodded. “Exits and elevators too.”

  “One of them is bound to be working.”

  “Don’t count your chickens,” he said.

  “On Kauai we have too many to count. Let’s hope that holds true here.”

  “Have you seen Ms. Duncan today?” Roland asked them.

  “My father saw Ms. Duncan for the last time last night.”

  Roland thanked the Hasigawas and told the son that either he or detective Bardon of the HPD would contact them. The police might still need a statement if they found a time-stamped video tape of Felicity leaving the hotel during the time of Phillip’s murder. The former fiancée would become one more person of interest. A lot of interest.

  They hurried out of Duke’s and entered the Surfrider wing of the Moana.

  “What if Felicity’s checked out?” Em scanned the reception area.

  “I told my cousin to call me if she did. He’s working until Wednesday night, so he’s got it covered.”

  “She was supposed to check out on Wednesday. If she’s still here, what if we run into her?”

  “I’ll detain her, tell her Bardon wants to talk to her again, and then we’ll call him.”

  Roland’s badge and smile worked on the same manager who connected them to the security office before. The Moana surveillance cameras had been working on Thursday night, and with the help of security officers, the replay was cued up in no time.

  Em leaned over Roland’s shoulder as he scrolled through on fast forward. She held her breath as they watched and had to remind herself to breathe. Felicity and Hasigawa entered the penthouse suite around nine thirty. The bodyguard took up his post outside the door. There was a chair in place, but he ignored it and stood still as a stone staring at the opposite wall. As time passed he paced the foyer, then finally sat down. Around eleven thirty his head nodded and fell forward. He apparently fell asleep.

  A few minutes later Felicity slipped out the room with her shoes and bag in her hand.

  “She left the room. She wasn’t there all night long,” Em said.

  “Got her,” Roland said. “She lied. She’s using the emergency exit stairwell. No elevator door bell.”

  “How did she get past the guard later? The exit door would be locked from the other side. I can see walking down all those flights of stairs but not up all those stories?” Em’s legs burned just thinking about it. “Surely the guard would wake up if she used the elevator.”

  They pressed fast forward. At one thirty-seven the elevator door opened, and Felicity stepped out. The guard sat up and looked around, confused. Felicity stared the man down until he finally stepped aside without a word. She used the key card to let herself in.

  “That’s weird. Why didn’t he stop her?”

  “She’d entered with Hasigawa. If he stopped her and disturbed his boss, he’d have to admit he’d fallen asleep and didn’t see her leave. She caught him sleeping. It was safer for him to let it go, and she knew it. If he let her go in without a hassle, Hasigawa wouldn’t be any wiser. If the guard admitted she’d gone out but he hadn’t seen her leave, he’d be toast.”

  “I have a feeling he’s toast anyway,” Em said.

  “Wherever he is, I don’t think he’s having fun.”

  “What now?” She stepped back.

  “We’re calling Bardon. We’ll need a photo of the frame when she left and when she returned with a time and date stamp.”

  She smiled at the use of we. “Am I an official partner now?”

  “Not on your life, Nancy Drew. At least not as a detective.”

  While Roland called Bardon, the manager went to check the reservation. She waved Roland over to the desk when he finished his call.

  “Sorry to tell you, but it looks like Ms. Duncan checked out forty-five minutes ago. She was booked until Wednesday but left early.”

  “In a rush no doubt,” Em said. To Roland, “I thought your cousin was supposed to call if he saw her leaving.”

  “I’m about to find out why he didn’t.”

  Roland thanked the manager, and together he and Em hurried toward the main entrance beneath the porte-cochere.

  “Are they going to arrest her?” Em asked.

  “They’re definitely going to keep her from leaving and haul her in for questioning.”

  They reached the valet stand. His cousin was on duty. A smile broke out on his face when he saw Roland. “Hey, cuz.”

  “Felicity Duncan checked out already. How come you no call?” Roland demanded.

  “I jus’ got here, bra. There was an accident on the H1. If I’d seen her I’d have called you.”

  He described Ms. Duncan to the other valets.

  “Oh, yeah. I remember her,” one of them said.

  Another said, “Me, too. Hard to forget.”

  “She took a limo to the airport,” the first added. “I held the door for her and heard her tell the driver United Terminal.”

  46

  ROLAND CALLED Bardon before they jumped into the rental car and raced to Honolulu International Airport. Traffic was heavy headed that way as visitors were headed home. Em could tell Roland was used to a squad car with a siren and was frustrated with the slow crawl. She had to close her eyes more than once as he changed lanes and passed cars.

  Once they reached the airport he pulled over outside the United Terminal where three HPD cruisers were already parked at the curb. It was a restricted area, and they were immediately approached by an airport traffic officer.

  Roland flashed his shield and explained he was working with Detective Bardon. They were able to leave the rental car there and head into the terminal. Roland saw one of the HPD uniformed officers and identified himself. The police officer was hefty, with salt and pepper hair. He told Roland that Detective Bardon was speaking with a ticket agent and pointed down the lobby.

  They walked further inside. Roland was on a mission when Em grabbed his arm and they stopped.

  “Roland, I’ve got to use the lua.” She found herself thinking, oh great. Fine time to have to go. But nature wasn’t just calling, she was screaming out loud.

  “Go.” Roland pointed toward the restrooms.

  “What if I lose you?” She started to panic. She so wanted to be there when they nabbed Felicity.

  “You have your phone. Stay by an officer. You know what Duncan looks like. If you see her, point her out to him. She may have already checked in and is up in the boarding area.”

  Em ran toward the restroom, unwilling to miss the action. She was already washing her hands with her back to the room when Felicity stepped out of a stall. Em almost didn’t recognize her in what Em thought of as standard “movie star” disguise. She’d seen it enough in the Goddess to know: sunglasses, hair pulled back in a ponytail, a white Roxy baseball cap. Instead of her usual body-hugging clothing, Felicity wore a paisley India gauze top, white slacks, and she had a scarf artfully draped around her neck. She must have already checked her luggage. All she carried was a Hermes bag.

  Em ducked her head as if concentrating on washing her hands but decided she could sneak a glance or two. Felicity wasn’t paying attention to anyone around her, and besides, it was the last place s
he’d expect to see Em. She walked to the basin farthest from where Em was scrubbing as carefully as a surgeon before an operation. She was tempted to look again, but afraid Felicity might see her in the mirror.

  Phillip’s former fiancée finished up quickly and dried her hands on a paper towel before she walked out. Em wiped her hands on her capris to save time. She counted to three before she headed out the door.

  She nearly ran smack into Felicity’s back. The woman had halted just beyond the restroom exit and was watching the cop. He walked around a corner, and Felicity surveyed the ticket lobby, then put her head down and walked swiftly toward the TSA screening line. She entered the first class aisle and must have had priority security screening because she was already entering the x-ray machine.

  Em ran after the cop who had gone around the corner and didn’t see him anywhere. She scrabbled for her phone, finally dug it out of her purse, fumbled, and nearly dropped it.

  She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She kept eyes on Felicity while she hit Roland’s call number. She didn’t see him anywhere and figured he’d found out Felicity had checked in and gone upstairs.

  The call went straight to voicemail.

  “Roland, I saw her. Call me,” Em said.

  Two seconds later he called her back.

  “She’s just cleared TSA and is going upstairs right now,” Em said.

  “Okay. We have her gate number. We’re here.”

  “Don’t let her see you. She skirted the cop—he disappeared somewhere. She’s got on a white baseball cap, aqua print blouse, white slacks, big black purse. Her hair is in a ponytail.”

  “Got it.”

  He was gone without a goodbye.

  Without a ticket or a badge there was no way anyone would let her upstairs. Helpless, she turned around, looking for the officer again, and spotted him at the other end of the lobby. She wove through passengers with their luggage waiting in long lines and ran up to him.

  “Hi. Remember me? I was with the officer from Kauai who just spoke to you about meeting Detective Bardon? I had to use the lua and we got separated. He’s upstairs now. Could you escort me up?”