The Scent of Waikiki (Trouble in Paradise Book 9)

by Terry Ambrose

  “Did you drink all of that last mimosa, Lexie?” Benni asked as she gave Lexie’s knee a little shake.

  “Mmm…hmm.”

  Benni scrunched up her face. “She might need a nap.” Her eyelids fluttered. “What we do for you two.” She took a deep breath and sat up straight. “Okay, here’s the important stuff. Skye went to Angela’s apartment and had it out with her. She said she got the box of Primal back and left.”

  “Did you see this box?” I asked.

  “Yah. She showed it to us and said there were no missing bottles.”

  Chance shifted position slightly so he could look directly at Benni. Lexie adjusted her position and snuggled closer.

  “Were there any markings on the box?” Chance asked.

  “Markings?” Benni’s brow furrowed. “It did have the Island Passion logo on the side.”

  “But there were no shipping labels or anything like that? Are you sure?”

  Benni took a deep breath and shook her head. “I don’t think so. Now that you mention it, the box looked brand new.”

  I looked at Chance, who seemed lost in thought. “What’s up, buddy?”

  Chance blinked and his blue eyes seemed to come back into focus. He stroked his chin which was, as always, clean-shaven. “Do you suppose she’s trying to cover up the theft?”

  While the kid might look like an innocent babe, his instincts were getting sharper each time we dealt with one of these cases. “I’m proud of you, buddy. I think your sneaky factor has grown exponentially.” I turned to Benni. “Could she have been putting on a show for your benefit?”

  “Of course she was.” Benni sighed and glanced sideways at Lexie. “We were talking about it on the way back. Lexie said Skye reminded her of someone presenting at a city council meeting. Why would she have even talked to us unless she wanted to make an impression?”

  I could see how serious she was—and how she was working to hold it together. Her eyelids drooped periodically and then flicked open. I winked at her. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

  She shook her head and blinked again. “We took a bullet for you guys.” Her lips parted and she yawned. “Oh, man, I’m beat.”

  “Do you want to take a nap?”

  “Yes, but before that, you guys need to know something else. When we asked her how she knew Angela was the thief, Skye said she had someone following her. We asked who this person was, but she wouldn’t say.”

  “We think it’s a private investigator named N. Ito,” I said.

  Benni nodded. “Makes sense. Skye slipped once and said a name. You’re N. Ito is a woman. And her first name is Naomi. When you find her, be sure to ask her about her meeting with Skye on Tuesday night.”

  I did a double take, letting my gaze flit between Chance and Benni. “The two of them met? She told you that?”

  “That’s what she said. The thing is, she changed the subject right after she told us. And she said the meeting was confidential. If it was so confidential, why would she tell us about it at all?”

  CHAPTER 41

  Benni shook her head again, then reached up and pulled her hair back. Her dark eyes were bleary from too much alcohol and a need for sleep. I wanted desperately to let her rest, but we also needed to know if there was anything else she and Lexie had found out.

  “We also asked her about that waiter guy, Stephen. She said he’d become like this stalker and she refused his employment applications.”

  “Did she say why?” I asked.

  “All she said was he wasn’t a good fit for the company.”

  Bootsy’s comment about Stephen’s meeting with Skye flashed into my thoughts. “We heard something about this. It sounds like that interview did not go well. We also heard he applied there a number of times.”

  Benni shrugged. “Maybe that’s why Skye called him a stalker. What she did say was that she keeps this Naomi on retainer to deal with stuff like price fixing, scams, and other problems that might affect her brand. Something in the way she said it led me to believe this woman knows what happened to Angela.”

  I sighed and held her gaze. “So she was hired to deal with people like Stephen Brantley—someone who might try to hurt the brand.”

  “Exactly.” She turned and smiled at Lexie. “She did good. Lexie’s the one who got Skye to talk about Stephen. Why don’t you just put her in on the bed? We both need to sleep this off.”

  Chance nodded and bent over to scoop Lexie off the couch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and immediately seemed to go back to sleep.

  Benni got up and came to stand next to me. “You guys have to find this Naomi Ito, McKenna. Once you do, don’t let up until she tells you what she knows. There’s got to be something Skye wants to keep hidden.” She kissed me on the cheek and swayed off toward the bedroom.

  I followed her and watched her lie down next to Lexie. Within a couple of minutes, she was asleep. We left the door open as we stood in the living room whispering.

  “Do you think Skye really did get the package with the perfume from Angela Tuesday night?”

  “No way.”

  “I agree. And what about this Naomi Ito? Do you think Benni’s right?” I asked.

  Chance shrugged. “Benni’s good at reading people and we don’t have any other real leads, so it’s definitely not going to hurt.”

  “If she says this woman is important, that’s good enough for me. I’m in.”

  “Okay. But I need more cash. You wiped me out.”

  “You’re driving.”

  We left the apartment slider and windows open and drove to Chance’s favorite bank branch. I volunteered to guard the car while he went inside for his cash recharge. While waiting, my phone rang. It was Steward. He was back to his gruff demeanor. The guy definitely needed phone etiquette lessons.

  “We got a problem.”

  “Hey, Steward. Nice to hear from you. How are you?”

  “There’s no record of that package.”

  Not terribly surprising news because in all of the stories we’d heard, nobody actually mentioned shipping the package. “So if Joseph delivered something, he did it on his own. Completely off the record.”

  “Right. I also checked his route log. He had a big break in the middle of his day.”

  “Your guys don’t work by the hour?”

  “We pay based on results. Which is what I expect from you.”

  I closed my eyes and frowned. Now what? “Results? What kind?”

  “You need to arrange a dinner for Claire and me.”

  That got my attention. I sat up straight and looked across the parking lot. Chance was ambling my way. “That wasn’t part of the deal, Steward.”

  “It is now. I did you a big favor. Now it’s time to pay up. I want to get back together with Claire and you’re going to make it happen.”

  “And I would do this because?”

  “Because you owe me. And you’re not the kind of guy to welch on his obligations.”

  The door opened, Chance eased himself into the seat, and gazed at me with knitted brows. I sighed, shook my head, and said, “I’ll call you back.” I looked at Chance. “That was Steward.”

  “McKenna, that guy’s got a screw loose. What did he want?”

  “To let me know Joseph took more time off work and there’s no record of the package he supposedly took from Angela’s apartment.” I huffed and turned sideways. “We’re back to Joseph may or may not have delivered the package, which may or may not have contained something of importance.”

  “Your buddy Steward is officially of no use whatsoever.” Chance put the key in the ignition, turned it, and the Ferrari’s engine growled to life. He leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “So you think we should go find Joseph, don’t you?”

  “I hate to say it, but yes. He’s the only one who can tell us what was in the box. And if he did deliver it, he’s the only one who knows how many bottles got returned.”

  “Or if Skye was putting on a big
act for the girls.”

  “Like they suspected.” Suddenly, the sun that had made the car feel so nice and warm just moments before turned it into a sauna. “Whatever we do, let’s get moving. This heat is giving me a headache.”

  “Let’s go find Joseph,” Chance said.

  I gave him directions to Joseph’s apartment. We were in luck because the route took us out of the heavy traffic areas. Since we didn’t have to sit in gridlock, we arrived in just over fifteen minutes.

  Like my last visit, there were towels hung over the lānai railings, surfboards standing upright next to small lānai doors, and most of the windows were closed up.

  “Peachy place,” I said.

  Chance grimaced as he inspected it. After a moment, he asked absently, “Why do suppose they keep the windows closed?”

  “You haven’t met the neighbors yet. It’ll all make sense soon. Joseph’s in Apartment E. It’s the second one from the stairwell on the second floor.”

  I got out of the car and led the way. The paint on the stairs was peeling in spots, as it was on the building trim. I didn’t expect Joseph to be here—he seemed to spend little, if any, time in his own apartment. But if he wasn’t here, I’d bet Eddie was. I just hoped he was sober enough to rat out his friend.

  We went to Joseph’s door and knocked. As I’d expected, there was no answer. I jerked my head toward the next door. “Let’s go see if Eddie’s here.”

  “I’m impressed, McKenna,” Chance said as he followed. “You’re on a first name basis with all the tenants.”

  I ignored him.

  Eddie answered quickly, jerking the door open as though he’d been expecting someone. He stared at me, his dark eyes bleary and his bushy eyebrows forming a single line of confusion.

  “Waiting for a delivery, Eddie?”

  He stroked his goatee and peered at me again. “Do I know you, man?”

  “I was here earlier. Looking for Joseph.”

  “He ain’t here. Dude lives next door.”

  “I know that, Eddie. I also know that you know when Joseph comes and goes.”

  It seemed like a simple enough statement, but it was apparently complex enough for Eddie to have to dig deep into his reservoir of intellect. In the midst of attempting to solve the mystery of simple English, Eddie’s train of thought derailed and he tried to peer around me.

  Enough was enough. Eddie was only going to understand one thing—a direct threat. I snapped my fingers to get his attention, then pointed at Chance.

  “You see this guy here?”

  Eddie stroked the dead rat he probably called a goatee, then turned his attention to Chance.

  “He’s going to beat the crap out of you if you don’t tell me where Joseph is. You have ten seconds.”

  Eddie’s jaw dropped, revealing a set of yellowed, crooked teeth. One of them was even more discolored, which led me to believe Eddie hadn’t seen a dentist in many years.

  “Oh.” He nodded while gazing blankly at Chance. “So you want to know where Joseph is? Why didn’t you just say so, man? I ain’t seen him come in yet. He parks down there. Last spot on the end.” He pointed a shaky finger toward the parking lot.

  “Do you always see him when he comes in?” Chance asked.

  “Yeah, man. Usually.”

  Chance reached for his wallet and pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill. He held it up for Eddie to see. Eddie blinked a couple of times and a stupid grin spread across his face.

  “Sweet,” he muttered.

  “Tell you what, Eddie. You want this?” Chance dangled the bill closer to Eddie’s face.

  Eddie reached for the fifty, but Chance pulled it away.

  “Oh, I get it. What do you want, man?”

  “Call me when Joseph comes in. Do that and this is yours.” Chance paused, stuffed the money back into his wallet, and handed a business card to Eddie. “No call, no payday.”

  “I’ll call you, man. I’ll call for sure. Joseph ain’t done nothing for me but cause me trouble.”

  “We’re done here, McKenna. Eddie’s on the job.”

  Chance flipped Eddie a shaka sign and got one in return. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. We left Eddie standing at the door watching after us, and when we got to the car he was still standing there.

  “I thought you were tired of spending money,” I said.

  “That wasn’t it at all. I just got a little ticked off because I ran out of cash and it wasn’t my choice.” Chance started up the Ferrari and glanced at me. “I’m sorry I got upset with you over that.”

  “You can make it up to me pretty easily.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Pay for a dinner with Steward and Claire.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  I’d fully expected Chance to refuse. After all, he didn’t even seem to like Steward. The fact that he’d taken longer than ten seconds to answer surprised me. And he hadn’t said no.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. When the other party answered, he said, “Ms. Ito, my name is Chance Logan. I’m calling on behalf of Logan Enterprises out of Los Angeles. I’d like to talk to you about a job.” He paused, then said, “Sure, I’ll wait.”

  He stared straight ahead as he listened for a few seconds, then smiled.

  “Shall we say thirty minutes?”

  When he hung up, I peered at him over the rim of my sunglasses. “Dropping your dad’s name? Clever.”

  “I figured she’d either recognize the name or be intrigued enough to be interested. My dad always taught me if you want to catch a big fish you have to use good bait.”

  “Your dad taught you well.” I gestured at the phone. “So put that thing away and drive. We don’t want our fish to swim away.”

  CHAPTER 42

  N. Ito Investigations was located on the second floor of an office building on Kalākaua Avenue. It was the standard sixties glass-and-steel construction. Over the years, surrounding buildings had reached ever higher until this one-time giant had been transformed into a pygmy by its neighbors.

  From the looks of the elevator, it hadn’t been updated since the original installation—with the possible exception of the carpet. There wasn’t enough grime for the elevator carpet to be fifty years old, but I’d guess it to have been a good ten years since it had been installed.

  “Odd,” I said as we approached the double glass doors. “You’d think there would be a business name somewhere.”

  I peered through the glass before pushing on the heavy door. The room itself was large and resembled a maze in some respects. We stood in a reception area, behind which there were a number of cubicles, all walled off with five-foot high partitions covered in a pale blue material.

  In a low voice, I said, “Do you suppose this is all N. Ito Investigations?”

  Chance shook his head. “I don’t know.” His eyes flicked toward an approaching young woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She had stringy bleached-blonde hair, which she wore down. It was not a good look for her.

  “Welcome to Aloha Virtual Offices. Are you here to see someone?”

  “Naomi Ito,” Chance said.

  “Back conference room.”

  She turned and pointed into the bowels of the maze. And there, way in the back of the room, was an open door in which a black woman leaned against the doorjamb with her arms crossed. She had big, frizzy hair, which was parted to the right, and wore a pink tank top.

  “Well, well. It’s the woman from Skye’s office.” I said.

  “You’re right. Game on, McKenna. Let’s go.”

  Chance held out his hand as he approached the woman we assumed to be Naomi Ito. Once everyone knew each other, she invited us to sit at a large rectangular table for twelve.

  “I hope we’re not expecting others,” I said.

  “No. We will be quite alone.”

  Her voice was soft and lilting and she had an easy smile. It didn’t take much to figure out that this woman was practiced at the art of disar
ming those she met. I hoped Chance recognized this, too.

  “You’re familiar with the death of Angela Keating?” I asked.

  The size of her pupils grew ever so slightly, but she showed no other signs of recognition. “I’ve heard of it. Tragic.” She glanced at Chance and sighed. “So this has nothing to do with Logan Enterprises. Does it?”

  Chance smiled. “I have some very good connections inside the company.”

  She eyed Chance for a moment, then nodded. “I know.”

  “You saw Angela’s death, didn’t you?” I held her gaze. Hers was strong and confident, yet I would not desist. When she didn’t answer, I added, “We know you’d been watching her from a unit on the fourth floor of the Driftwood Breeze.”

  She continued to gaze at me, then looked at Chance and smiled. “You two have been thorough.”

  “Had you been watching her for Skye Pilkington-Winchester?” Chance asked.

  “Have you spoken with Skye?”

  “Yes,” Chance said.

  “Interesting. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you what she and I discussed.”

  I regarded her face, once again looking for clues as to what she might be thinking. There were none to find. “Why do you say ‘unfortunately’?”

  She sighed and gazed about the room. Her eyes were dark as coal and, for the first time, there was a hint of emotion. “Skye has put me in a very difficult position. If there’s one thing I won’t tolerate, it’s having a client manipulate me.” She hesitated and took a deep breath.

  “That night Skye called and asked me to meet her in her office at ten. It had been a busy evening at Angela’s and I told her I thought I should stay. Her instructions were very clear. I was to meet her at ten in her office regardless of what was happening at Angela’s.”

  Chance leaned back in his chair and laid his hands in his lap. “Skye stood you up. Didn't she?”

  “Yes. I waited until nearly eleven. When I returned to the condo, I believe someone had already killed Angela.”

  My spine stiffened at the implication. She’d dropped the professional poker player demeanor and was staring at her hands. Her meaning was clear. “You think Skye killed Angela.”