The Scent of Waikiki (Trouble in Paradise Book 9)

by Terry Ambrose

  But Grace was here. She wanted my help, and she’d been a good tenant for years. How could I let her down? My back was against the wall. I said the words I knew I’d instantly regret. “So what did you want me to do?”

  “I…I don’t know. I’m at a loss.” Grace rubbed her right eye, then her hand moved to her temple. Her shoulders slumped as she said, “This was a mistake. I can’t work. I have no money. Just evict me.”

  She turned to walk away, but Benni stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “What about Chance Logan? Maybe he could do something.”

  “Why would he help me? He’s just a rich kid who likes playing detective.” She winced, then adjusted the sling tighter. “Sorry. Chance is a nice guy, but he won't care about me. He’s on top of the Honolulu social ladder.”

  I flinched at the tone in her voice. Chance was another tenant, but also a close friend. He might be a trust-fund baby, but he wasn’t without feelings. “Don't sell him short. The guy has a heart of gold. He’s always trying to help…” Oops, ‘poor people’ was not a good choice of words. “He likes to help people out. But he may not be the best option, Benni. He’s still working on getting his investigator’s license.”

  “It doesn’t matter, I can’t afford a detective.” Grace’s lower lip quivered; her brown eyes misted over. “I’m sorry. I swore I wasn’t going to cry. I can't ask for charity. If I can’t pay the rent, you have to evict me. Go ahead. I was barely scraping by anyway, so this makes my decision for me. As much as I love my apartment, it's just too much. I love living alone. Being independent, yah? The thing is, I live paycheck-to-paycheck. This jerk stole the money I needed for rent and groceries!”

  I pointed at the sling. “And you can’t work because of the arm. You haven’t told us what happened.”

  Grace shivered and glanced away. When she looked back, a tear had dribbled down her cheek. “It happened last week. Yah? I was walking along when some kid on a skateboard tried to do this fancy trick. He lost his balance and fell into me. I landed on my arm and broke it in two different places. I can’t use it at all. The grocery store will hold my job, but I don’t have enough sick time to survive.”

  She sniffled and backed away, trying her best to look strong by giving me a weak smile. It was more than I could bear.

  “Grace, wait. I’ll talk to Chance.” Good grief, I’d violated number six again.

  When Grace was gone, Benni looked at me and asked, “So you think Chance will help her?”

  “I hope so. With the wedding coming up, I don’t really think I should be getting involved.”

  “I didn’t want to say it with Grace around, but you’re right. There’s too much going on. Neither of us need the additional stress.”

  “So you’re okay with me not helping Grace out?”

  “Yes. No. Oh, McKenna, I don’t know. Grace needs help—and she’s part of our ‘ohana. We shouldn’t just…abandon her because it’s inconvenient.”

  “Tell you what. Let’s sleep on it. It’s been a long day. Yah?”

  Benni nodded, but I could tell that inside her, a fire of uncertainty smoldered. She brought the subject up again several times before bed, and each time I agreed with her about how Grace was being wronged. What I didn’t say was that Grace had been naive. She’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book—if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

  The mechanics of a scam have always fascinated me, and this one was no different. Perhaps I should have asked more questions, but I wasn’t supposed to be involved. The bottom line was I had to settle for knowing Grace had given money to the wrong person. No big insight there. How someone cleaned out her bank account afterwards, wasn’t that just the question of the day?

  By the time we got in bed, we were both exhausted. Benni conked out quickly while I lay there staring at the ceiling. The exterior security lighting poked its tentacles through the smallest openings in the window coverings. Sounds of the city, the distant hum of traffic, blended with the faint lapping of surf on the shore.

  I stared at the ceiling, hoping the silently spinning shadows of the fan blades would hypnotize me into some kind of sleep. Didn't work. It only gave me more time to think about Grace’s situation. After nearly an hour, I gave up, resigned to the bitter truth. If my brain didn’t want to have nap-time, it might as well be doing something productive.

  Slipping out of bed, I threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I closed the bedroom door and set up my laptop on the dining table. Then, I opened the slider all the way and breathed in the salt-laden air drifting in on the trade winds.

  My apartment was typical of most others. It had a small dining area next to a minuscule kitchen which, to be fair, should really include the word “efficiency” in the description. Forget it—tiny was still tiny. Built galley style, it had a standalone stove and a refrigerator on one wall, the dishwasher and sink on the other. The counters were done in four-by-four white tiles with brown grout, which was a holdover from the sixties and seventies when it was a hot design concept—kind of like bell-bottoms. The difference was bell bottoms made a comeback.

  As I opened up my laptop, I thought about how foolish this was. All I knew was the name of the perfume. I didn’t know the name of the guy who’d tricked Grace or anything else that might be remotely helpful. In short, I had squat.

  An internet search turned up a million results for “Primal perfume.” There were all sorts of variations on the name and most of the results were for places to buy the stuff. When I followed one of the links, it turned out the perfume wasn’t even available and they wanted me to sign up for their mailing list. Not happening.

  So far, I’d found nothing bearing any resemblance to a lure for a work-at-home scam. Everything looked legitimate. So, how had Grace been taken in?

  I definitely should have asked more questions of Grace. To be honest, I hadn’t really wanted to ask them. I looked toward the closed bedroom door. Oh, man, did I want to go back to bed. Sleep. That’s what I needed, not this. Why was I sitting here trying to figure out how one of my tenants fell for something so obvious?

  Shutting my eyes, I listened to the surf, then did another search. This time, I looked for “Honolulu job scams.” With only 179,000 results, it still felt like I was facing an ocean of possibilities. It was time to focus on the first few pages of the results since most everything beyond those were increasingly irrelevant.

  “Increasingly irrelevant?" I muttered. "Seriously? I'm turning into an oxymoron moron.”

  I started clicking links to check out the results. So I was grumpy because I wasn’t getting my beauty sleep, and my eyes felt like sandpaper. No matter how many times I blinked, it was still difficult to focus. My gray matter was turning to mush. It was nearly midnight, I was exhausted, and I was conducting a full-blown conversation with my dining room chair.

  “McKenna? What are you doing out here?”

  I glanced up from my laptop. Uh oh, Benni was awake. She’d thrown on an old oversized T-shirt. With her mussed-up hair and sleepy eyes, she reminded me of what I should be doing right now.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I said.

  “That’s pretty obvious. Who were you telling to shut up?”

  “Nobody.” I sighed. “Me, myself, and I. All three of us. I want to go to bed and sleep for a week.”

  “Morning would be good." Benni yawned as she padded across the room to stand behind me. She rested her hands on my shoulders and kneaded them softly with her fingers. "Is this about Grace?”

  I nodded. “I suppose. You know me, I want to figure out the specifics. How did the thing work? Is there a way to turn the tables?” The tension in my shoulders ebbed. Looking up, I leaned back into her. Even without a speck of makeup, she was gorgeous. “You’re pretty hot when you’re sleepy.”

  The kneading suddenly stopped and she gave my shoulder a playful smack. “Seriously? Forget it, Romeo. Why do you want to turn the tables on a scammer? You know that’s not only dangerous, but probably impossible.�
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  “Maybe I'm just being stupid. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I don’t know why I’m so tired.”

  She gave me a lopsided grin. “Maybe because you’re not sleeping.”

  “Duh.” I gave myself a fake smack on the forehead.

  She gazed at me for a moment, then frowned. “Wait, are you getting the wedding jitters?”

  I reached up and laid my hand on hers, then turned so I could look her in the eyes. “Yes, I’m nervous about the wedding. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But, what groom—or bride—doesn’t go through that? I’ll bet you are, too.”

  She shrugged, then bit her lower lip. “Maybe. A little.”

  Turning so I could see her face, I held her gaze. “Okay. I don’t want to mess this up…I don’t want to mess us up.”

  “Me, either.”

  Leaning over, she kissed me. “We’ll get through it. Come back to bed.”

  I followed her and she curled up next to me. The fan blades whirled silently overhead. All was right in my little world—unless I did something to screw it up.

  CHAPTER 4

  The following morning, Benni and I awoke to the sounds of tenants leaving for work. As a light sleeper, I almost always noticed their comings and goings. My apartment is a corner unit located on the end of the complex closest to the parking lot. It was a good-news-bad-news deal. The location wasn’t as quiet as some of the others, but it was easy for prospective tenants to find. The biggest advantage to this unit was that it fronted to the beach, so I wasn’t about to complain.

  Benni and I set up breakfast on the lānai. As usual, we were both having fresh fruit and a bowl of cereal. Today’s fruit was a papaya Mrs. Nakamura had given me. Mrs. Nakamura is a retired schoolteacher who lives in the apartment next to mine. To say she’s direct would be an understatement. She’s the kind who bangs on the wall if she thinks your TV is too loud, or if you’re rowdy after curfew.

  “I wonder where Auntie got this.” Benni speared a piece of papaya with her fork, inspected it, then popped it in her mouth. “It’s so fresh.”

  “One of her ‘ohana gave it to her. That’s what she told me when she brought it over.”

  One thing I enjoy about the islands is the way we talk about friends and family. We use the terms auntie and uncle in a very loose context, one driven by our sense of ‘ohana, or family. Since we all live on a big rock surrounded by thousands of miles of water, we tend to think of our fellow kama‘āina, the others who live here, as family, even when they are not related by blood.

  In Benni’s case, she was not a blood relation to Mrs. Nakamura, but had been one of the old woman’s fourth-grade students. I’d endured stories on multiple occasions about how Benni hadn’t been just a student, she’d been a star student. My fourth-grade teacher would never have ascribed such high praise to my performance. In any case, as a way to show respect and endearment, Benni called the older woman Auntie Asuka, or simply Auntie.

  “It’s so sweet.” Benni winked at me. “Just like you.”

  I shook my head and snickered. “Oh, no. You’re the sweet one. I’m the grumpy guy you’re going to marry. But I won’t be grumpy once we’ve done the deed.”

  “The deed?” Benni scowled at me, then lowered her gaze and stared at her plate. She had a frown etched on her brow as though she were deeply worried. “If you’re having second thoughts, McKenna…”

  “No, no, it’s not that…” But maybe it was. Benni claimed our age difference didn’t matter, but with more than twenty years between us, maybe she was the one getting cold feet. Or maybe I was just being me and overthinking life. “Is this about my insomnia last night? You asked me the same thing then.”

  When she didn’t answer, I knew I’d hit on the truth and felt a small amount of relief.

  “Look, I must have been worried about Grace’s dilemma. It’s a landlord thing. The fact that she won’t fight an eviction says a lot about her character.”

  “Would you really evict her?” Benni’s jaw dropped as she stared at me.

  Oops. That was not what I’d meant. “I don’t want to evict her. I’ll suggest the owners try to work out something. But, you know how it is, for them this is a business. If the owners say I need to pull the trigger, I don’t have a lot of choice.”

  “Wow, that’s cavalier.”

  “I just mean they’re the ones who have the financial stake. Ultimately, I’m just an employee. They’ve treated me well because I keep the place maintained and have a good occupancy rate, but the bottom line is I’ve been lucky. They’re not overly greedy, so the rents are reasonable, and the economy is good. Take one of those out of the mix, and I’m out of a job.”

  “Like Grace. And what happens when you can’t pay your rent? Do you evict yourself?”

  Benni’s tone caught me off guard. Her brown eyes shone with compassion for a woman she barely knew while I wished I could grab onto some of that empathy and…do what? As a skip tracer, I’d seen the dark side of people’s lives. Bad things happened. It was a fact of life. Pure and simple. I’d been the bad guy. End of story. At least the one told by my skips…deadbeats…or victims, if you wanted to take their side.

  “I’m not sure what I can do to help her.” The words sounded hollow, which meant deep down I did want to help Grace. Deep down wasn’t enough to please Benni. Perhaps, not even myself.

  “McKenna, do more than just talk to the owners. Take a stand for Grace. See if they’re open to giving her some slack. She’s just lost her savings and a job, but she’ll be able to work when this is over. It’s not like she won’t have any income at all.”

  I watched Benni’s face. So much fire and determination. A woman worth fighting for—even if the fight was only waged in my head where a storm brewed. I was getting married. Wanted to enjoy life. But the thrill of the hunt still beckoned on occasion. Catching skips had been a major rush. And I did miss it at times.

  The waves inched their way toward shore and the surfers, those like Chance who loved this little beach, were enjoying the day. Down near the water, a family of four had come out early. Dad and son were building a sand castle. They’d come prepared with blue plastic buckets and shovels and tons of determination. Maybe that’s what I needed—more determination.

  “Okay,” I said. “You’re right. I should at least go to bat for Grace. I can’t fault her for trying to do something she thought she’d really love.”

  “Everyone should follow their dreams, McKenna.” Benni winked at me and leaned back in her chair while watching me over the top of her mug.

  Armed with a newfound determination, I smiled back at her and winked. “I am following my dream; I’m marrying you.”

  Her lips rounded as she continued to watch me over the top of her mug. “Oh. Mr. Smooth is back. Nicely done. But you get it, yah? If you do what you love, the money will follow.”

  I’d heard the same mantra from numerous successful people, of which I considered Benni one. After all, her personal-assistant business on the Big Island had grown so much she needed to hire her own assistant. I shook my head. “You might have pulled it off, but that doesn’t mean Grace can. You made some very smart decisions. That means you get to follow your dreams. But, Grace? I’m not so sure. She wants to work with fragrances, but she’s stuck as a grocery store clerk. I can’t see how she’ll get from Point A to Point B.”

  “I agree. Grace is in a rut. She needs a break. I got one when I took on Cam.” She chuckled. “And don’t roll your eyes like that. He might have been a drugged-out rock-and-roller at one point, but now he’s a multi-million-dollar brand. And his referrals have put me where I am.”

  “You’re right; Cam was a good choice. He’s paid off well, despite what I may think of his lifestyle.”

  Out on the beach, the sand castle was now a couple of feet high. It was sorely lacking in architectural esthetics, but it was standing. Cam had found success. This father and son had. So could I.

  “You know, Benni, when
I moved here, my life had fallen apart. Your brother was instrumental in helping me to get myself together again. I don’t know why he did it, but I do know I’ll appreciate Alexander’s help for the rest of my life. My dream used to be finding people. Being the best skip tracer was all that mattered. Everything changed when I met you. All I have to do is figure out what I want, reach out, and grab it.”

  Benni scooted her chair closer to mine and leaned forward so she could take my hands in hers. "You’ll get there. Right now, it’s just the wedding that’s confusing you.”

  “It could be what we’re going to do afterwards. Where we’ll live. This apartment complex has been my life for so long now—the thought of starting over at sixty-four petrifies me.”

  “I know.” Benni dropped her gaze and nodded. When she looked up, her eyes had misted over. Her smile, though weakened, was still there. “I’m not sure where we’ll wind up, either. What I do know is my heart tells me to not hesitate. Maybe you don’t have a clear picture of life after marriage, but you do know how to help Grace. And she needs someone in her corner, McKenna. So dig deep, what does your heart tell you to do about her?”

  CHAPTER 5

  What did my heart tell me to do about Grace’s situation? Other than get the monkey off my back? Stay clear? Help? Nope, the message was very clear. Crystal, as they say.

  “I need to talk to Chance. I’m hoping he can take this on.” It was not an answer, but it was the truth.

  I looked out to the ocean where Chance straddled his surfboard, bobbing around, waiting for an incoming wave. He was not only one of my tenants and few friends, but also my partner in solving crime. Each day while he rode the waves, I parked my butt in one of my lānai chairs and watched, a cup of coffee nestled in my hands.

  Chance called what I did vicarious surfing. I preferred to think of it as protecting my personal safety for one simple reason—my balance on a surfboard was nonexistent.

  “Tell you what,” Benni said. “You catch up with him, and I’m going to get in the shower. I’m meeting with Lexie at ten to look at bridesmaid dresses.”