by Kym Roberts
It was a ‘Wham, bam, thank you Sam!’ moment. Every woman deserves one in a lifetime. This was mine.
The phone rang, forcing me into action. I rolled off Makaio and onto the floor, grabbed the phone from the coffee table and whispered, “Hello?”
“Me ke aloha pumehana, Baby Doll. I have a few hours this afternoon and I’d like to show you a map of The Garden of the Gods so you know the layout before you start your surveillance tonight. Can I stop by and show you?”
Guilt flooded my body as Pai wished me a warm-hearted hello. I felt like a cheating spouse caught in mid-act. I looked back at Makaio who, with a soft snore, rolled over on his side, away from me, and I scurried across the floor toward the bathroom. Was I cheating on Makaio? Or Pai? Or both? I honestly wasn’t sure. I crawled on all fours as I held the phone between my head and shoulder, scared to say anything until I got behind the only door in the apartment.
“Hello?”
“Ah…sorry. My…my brother is asleep on the couch and I…I didn’t want to wake him up.”
I’m a terrible liar, and I was so going to hell. Brother? In the broader sense, Makaio was my ‘Hawaiian brother,’ but the implication of him being any kind of relative after my state of arousal made a spasm trail down my spine from pure ick factor.
“Since your brother’s sleeping, do you want me to pick you up?”
“No!” I said louder than I meant to. “I mean no,” I whispered. “I need to stop by Private Kaua’EYE’s and pick up some documents to file at the courthouse. How about I meet you at your office?”
Pai agreed and gave me the address in Lihue. I quickly said good-bye before my guilty conscience caused me to confess.
Peeking out the bathroom door, I looked at Makaio’s delicious backside, still relaxed in slumber, and I snuck out to grab a pair of slacks and blouse from the only closet in my apartment. With my cankle creating a duck-like hobble, I prayed Makaio wouldn’t wake up to see me waddling across the room.
I chose my clothing and slunk back to the bathroom. Consciously avoiding everything sexy, I went for the comfortable cotton bikini underwear with a matching bra, a pair of loose fitting capris and an over-sized printed blouse. I did not want to feel sexual. My libido had been out of control for almost two days now, and I wasn’t about to let it continue this afternoon.
My showers usually deplete every last ounce of hot water in the tank, but today, I took a Navy shower. In and out can have other meanings besides sex, so after a quick, cold rinse, I dressed without a second thought about the showerhead. I mean, Makaio had done the job for me, right?
I put my hair up in a clip, brushed on some mascara and lipstick, and slipped out of the bathroom to get my shoes. Lying on his back, Makaio’s wonderful package stood at attention. I groaned before I realized how loud it would be and slapped my hand across my mouth while continuing to hobble across the room.
“Where are you going?” Makaio was looking at me with very sexy hooded eyes in his half-wakened state.
“I have some work to do. I’ll be back later.” I watched him closely to see if he knew what he’d done for me. To me. And if he knew who I was going to meet. But his eyes closed without giving me a hint. Totally comfortable in his masculinity. Totally comfortable on my couch. Totally comfortable with me.
“Okay.”
I sat on the built-in bench at my front door wanting to touch him so badly my fingers tingled as I fumbled with the buckle of my sandals. Resisting the temptation, I grabbed my purse, keys, and my phone (see I’m learning) and slipped out the door, locking it behind me. I sighed and leaned back against it, realizing I should’ve written him a note.
But what would it say? Thanks for the good time? Lock the door on your way out?
This was so not my style.
I looked down at my cankle, wishing I had slacks on that actually covered its ugliness. There was no sign of an anklebone, just a bloated stump, a weird appendage with the blue hue of bruising starting to take over. And of course, that view brought my thoughts back to Peter Johnson’s bloated body.
My sex drive completely cooled off with those images. I leaped — well, limped into action, carefully taking the steps down to the back door of Private Kaua’EYE’s Investigations. The cool breezes flowed through the office clearing out all thoughts of the men in my life, dead or alive. Almost. I still had a bone to pick with Lani about the ‘pool girl’ incident.
Lani sat at her desk talking on the phone with Scotty, her eight-year-old son. In her late twenties, Lani was the big sister I never had. I waved and got an eye roll as she pointed to the phone. I knew the drill. Tossing her thick, wavy hair across trim shoulders, she listened to an endless account of how the Teutons had just defeated the Pagans of Lithuania in her son’s computer game. The kid was obsessed with it. I know because he’d cornered me on several occasions while teaching him to surf. The first couple times the stories were fairly interesting. About the hundredth time, I turned into a brainless zombie. How his mom was able to follow his babbling was beyond my comprehension.
I sat down and scrolled through my phone messages. Not one from Kionni. I sent another text. “Call me. It’s important.”
Several minutes passed, and he still hadn’t replied. I was going to have to hunt him down. (I may have growled at that point.)
Lani tapped her desk and I looked up to see her holding out a couple envelopes. I limped my way to her desk and she leaned over to see what caused me to wobble. Her lips pursed in a silent, “Oooo,” at the site of my cankle.
“It’s nothing, but we need to talk.” I did the finger-pointing thing at her, then me and back at her. She grinned and that’s all I needed for a confession of guilt. I grabbed the folders, instructions written on the outside, and looked them over.
“Thank you,” she whispered with her hand over the receiver.
“Un-huh.” I waved goodbye and headed out the door as she grinned some more. It was going to be a long day.
The document filing took an hour and forty-five minutes at the courthouse. Twenty minutes to find a parking place within walking distance for my now throbbing cankle. Fifteen minutes to walk there, with several short breaks along the way that I used to cuss myself for not having iced it longer. Another thirty minutes in line, twenty-five more minutes for the clerk to quiz me about the orders of protection (she was more clueless than me) and fifteen more to get back to my car.
I was ready for a nap and a painkiller by the time I got behind the wheel. Instead, I drove across town and pulled up in front of a small office building raised on lava rock pillars for protection against hurricanes and tsunamis. The roof was thatched and the door had ancient symbols of feather standards known as kahili covering the glass. Kahili is like a royal crest found on ancient kappa cloth adorning the entrances of the homes of our noble descendants.
The question remained, was Pai ali’i (royalty), or was his office building pulo’ulo’u, (a royal house)? The third possibility could be that he just used it to show his Hawaiian ancestry and didn’t have a clue as to what it meant. Somehow, I didn’t see that as a possibility.
I stepped inside and found the décor to be masculine — dark teak wood softened by an abundance of local fauna. Past mixed with the present between heavy wooden furniture and modern art design. I heard Pai’s voice coming from a side office and turned to see him sitting in a high back leather chair. Intricate carvings of the gods encompassed the front of his massive desk, and…
Pai’s image blended into the surroundings; he looked like a king from long ago at Ίolani Palace. My blood froze, my feet halted. Mesmerized by his unadulterated regal appearance, I couldn’t help but wonder who he really was. I imagined I was in a time gone by when rulers made decisions for the people.
Pai looked up from his papers, his smile reflecting a joy for life so many other people would never find. “Aloha, Baby Doll.”
He stood up to greet me, and my brain and feet thawed enough to meet him halfway across the room. My heart sk
ipped as Pai watched me cross the room. His eyes looked past the façade I tried to wear. Unable to break eye contact, I swallowed the dry lump that somehow formed in my throat. Pai bent over and kissed my check, as if we had been dating forever. His warm breath tickled my ear. His masculine scent aroused my senses as I leaned into a kiss that sent goose bumps down my spine.
What was wrong with me? Makaio just gave me an incredible orgasm, and now I was lusting after Pai.
“What happened since I left you this morning?”
Shame ran through my body. I looked away and fidgeted with my purse. What happened? What happened? “Nothing happened. Why?”
My question was met with silence. He had an odd look on his face as he analyzed my lie. Finally, unable to endure it, I tore my eyes away from his hold.
“You’re limping.”
“Oh…,” Standing in front of him full of guilt, I’d nearly forgotten about my altercation with the ditch, no thanks to Windy. “I twisted my ankle during my run back to Koloa. It’s a little sore, but it will be alright in a few days.” If I was going to attempt to lie, I had to reestablish eye contact. Unable to, I glued my eyes to his forehead.
“You walked home after spraining it?” His voice held no emotion.
“Ah…no, I got a ride.” Geez, did I get a ride. A ride I wasn’t about to tell Pai about, so I diverted my eyes again and quickly changed the subject to business. “Do you have a map of the complex to show me?”
I could have sworn by the look I glimpsed on his face, he disapproved of my morning activities. I chose to ignore it and chalked it up to my own paranoia about lying. How could he possibly know what a bad girl I’d been?
My face heated as our eyes finally met.
He knew.
The perfect gentleman let the subject drop, leaving me unsure how to act. I wanted to confess my deception, but I held it together and followed him over to rustic table covered with maps. His posture was regal, in control. Mine was full of shame.
So much for my ‘Wham bam thank you, Sam’ moment.
Chapter Twelve
The Garden of the Gods had a fairly easy layout. One large U-shaped building facing the ocean, which gave the interior rooms great beachfront or makai views, and the exterior rooms varied from beachfront to ocean view. At the base of the ‘U,’ the building attached to another U-shaped structure that faced the mountains — a mauka view. It also wrapped around the Heiau that Pai’s guards were protecting. From an aerial view, the entire complex looked a little like the UnderArmour logo, underlined with a tall stone wall at the road.
The sides of the property were currently protected with orange plastic fencing that didn’t do much except keep law-abiding citizens from wandering into the construction zone. The empty guard shack was still there, and the whole property was surrounded by mature shrubs that blocked the noise from the roadway, and my ability to spy on the occupants. There were only two entrances to the parking lot. The one I hadn’t used was currently closed off with a gate.
From the roadway, there was only one stretch on the hill where I could see into the parking lot and watch the guard shack. Otherwise, I was going to have to be on foot.
Pai gave me a gym bag full of supplies, which included files on the different guards: photos and personal data such as names, date of births, marital status and addresses. He also gave me a pair of binoculars, a really nice digital camera that took low light photos, and he downloaded the coolest App on my phone that gave me night-vision. I’d checked it out in the bathroom in his office and couldn’t wait to try it for real.
But once the business conversation ended, we both seemed desperate to escape each other’s company. My excuse arrived as a text from my brother Kionni saying he’d be at my apartment in twenty minutes. It nearly sent me into panic mode — Makaio was sleeping on my bed. Technically, it was a couch, but my family wouldn’t see it that way. My sleeper sofa was the only bed in the place.
With a promise to be on site tonight, I said goodbye to Pai, who again kissed me on the cheek with reverence, and I raced to my apartment. Makaio’s fast and sexy Ducati was still outside, dominating the small parking lot with its mere presence. The Streetfighter with its low, deep growl personified the man occupying my bed/couch and made my body twitch with anticipation.
I was definitely going to hell.
With my pulse in my throat, I pulled into one of several open parking spots in front of Private Kaua’EYE’s Investigations, and waited for my brother to drive by. Leaning against the trunk, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d escaped a major scene with Kionni and my bed partner by a mere two minutes.
My little brother spotted me immediately and parked next to my car.
“Aloha, Sis,” he said as exited his pickup. “So what’s got your panties in such a bunch?”
Kionni looked more like John than me, taking on our mother’s Asian heritage instead of our father’s island genes. He wore his hair like John, he smiled like John, and he thought he was funny like John, but he was sweeter than our older brother. Moreover, he tended to bail me out of trouble when I needed his help.
“Since when do you ignore messages?”
“Since my adorable big sis is always asking for favors.” He chucked me under the chin as if I was the younger sibling and I smacked his hand away.
“This is important, Kionni.”
“What? You need to borrow my truck to move home?”
“No, that’s not going to happen.” I’d live in a box before I moved back home.
“Don’t even ask to borrow my bike again.” He shook his head to make sure I knew he wasn’t going to change his mind on that one.
“I taught you how to ride a motorcycle, little brah, but that’s not what I called about. I need to talk to you about your job.”
He looked at me skeptically. “Don’t tell me you want me to get you a job.”
My ego bristled. “No.” I ignored the ugly indignation rearing its head, and decided not to put Kionni in the middle of a contest between John and I — he might vote against me. “Are you working at The Garden of the Gods?”
“Yeah, I got promoted to Foreman.”
Shocked by his announcement, I congratulated him with a hug. “That’s awesome.”
“Thanks, I think it will be. Why did you want to know if I worked there?”
“I need some information about Peter Johnson.”
Kionni leaned up against the trunk of the car next to me and folded his arms. We watched the traffic go by like a tennis match before he noticed my injury. “What’s up with the puffer fish attached to your ankle?”
“It’s nothing. I twisted it when I was running.”
“You didn’t have your phone with you, did you?” Kionni accused.
I rolled my eyes and ignored the truth. “What can you tell me about your boss?”
“I haven’t seen him in about a week. Are you looking to get a surf instructor job when the place opens?”
Well, now, that wasn’t a bad idea. Everyone knew my job at Aaron’s Surf Zone was on the rocks. My whole family was waiting for me to grow up and get a real job, or move home and go back to school. I wasn’t ready to do any of it.
“Are they planning to offer surfing lessons?” I asked, wondering if that was a possible solution for me.
“Nah, the plan got nixed this past week when we had to rearrange the layout.”
I nodded. If there was anything I understood, job opportunities came and went quickly on the island, and by the sound of it, my brother didn’t know his boss was dead. Otherwise, he’d be fretting over his future.
I broke the news to Kionni. “I found Peter Johnson’s body on the beach.”
His arms dropped and my little brother turned toward me giving me his undivided attention. “Are you shittin’ me? Are you okay?”
That was Kionni, more concerned about me, than his future. “I’m fine,” I lied.
“Do Mom and Dad know you found a body?” He eyed me as if he knew I wasn’t okay with
my discovery.
“Dad does, but we’re not telling Mom. We think it’s best if she doesn’t know.”
He nodded. I knew he didn’t agree, but he wasn’t going to go against Dad. We all knew if Mom found out, in no time flat she’d be setting me up for grief counseling and moving me back home where she would hover over me until I died a lonely old woman.
“You know I don’t believe in, don’t ask, don’t tell. Lying by omission is just as….”
“I know, Kionni.”
At the tender age of twenty-two, Kionni’s one of those type A personalities wrapped tighter than a fishing line pulling in a great white. Whereas, I drifted into my jobs, he chose his path and scaled the obstacles without looking back. A blown knee in college football ruined his future in ROTC and the military, but Kionni never complained. Instead, he changed his major to business, began working for our uncle’s construction company as soon as he graduate college (before me), and he was already primed to take over the business. Better him than me, I wasn’t ready to grow up.
“I need your help with this investigation,” I told him.
“What investigation?”
“I found him, Kionni. I can’t forget the images in my head. I have to know what happened to him.” My patience was beginning to wear thin with my closed-mouthed brothers. “Can you tell me what you know about Peter Johnson, please?”
“Mal, you need to leave this for the police. Murder investigations are what they do. Call John, tell him your concerns and he’ll take it from there.”
The realization that my little brother didn’t take me seriously was like a slap in the face. I wanted to lash back. Instead, I swallowed the pain and continued like a professional investigator.
“Was Peter involved in the business or was he just the investor type?”
Kionni turned and walked toward his truck without saying a word, forcing me to follow him.
