Maui Murders

by Kathy Callahan

  “Sorry, doing it right now. Don’t circle, just land.”

  The captain shook his head and began landing procedures.

  Layla saw another plane land and begin taxiing in her direction. This was Dewey, she knew it; she opened the car door and stood as close as permitted. The jet turned in toward the hangar and stopped. Layla began walking toward the plane with a sure stride. She saw the hatch open and the stairway come down, and then Dewey appeared at the top of the stairs. Layla smiled as she walked hurriedly toward him.

  Dewey saw her as the plane halted on the tarmac. The minute the pilot had the engine off, he was out of his seat and aiding in opening the door.

  OK, he thought, “take it easy, or you’ll fall flat on your face racing down the stairs.

  When he got to the bottom step, he looked up and arched his neck, not sure it was Layla walking toward him. “Layla, is that you?”

  “Yes, Dewey, it’s me!” Layla exclaimed, walking forward, extending her arms.

  “My god, you look more beautiful than I remember,” Dewey said as he reached her and drew her to him.

  “You feel so good. Now kiss me. I’ve been waiting way too long for this kiss,” Layla said, looking up into his face.

  “Not half as long as I have,” Dewey said, kissing his angel. After a long, passionate kiss, Dewey pulled back and said, “Layla, you look so good, tan, healthy, cute, and sexy as hell. I need another kiss.”

  “Fine with me. I could use another one too.”

  Breaking the spell, one of the pilots came with Dewey’s luggage. “Want me to load this for you?”

  “Thank you,” Layla said as she used her remote, unlocking the car. She held on to Dewey and smiled. “I don’t think you’re in any condition to load luggage.” Saying that, she wiggled herself into him. “Think we could hop back in that plane for a bit?”

  “No, once the pilots leave, they secure it, and besides, I want us to be comfortable. That plane only has a couch.”

  “Then let’s get to the hotel,” said Layla.

  Dewey put his arm around Layla and, with his other hand, fluffed her hair. “Sorry, had to do that. You want me to drive?”

  “Sure, and touch me anytime, anywhere,” Layla said wickedly.

  “Oh god,” Dewey said as he opened the door, ushered Layla inside, then raced around to the driver’s side, got in, and tore out of the airport. Dewey swore it was the longest drive in his life. Layla told him the latest about her home, the Boones, the Kellers, and Mr. Soo. Several times, she reached over and rubbed his arm as he was steering, saying she wanted to touch him to assure herself he was real.

  At the Four Seasons, they checked in and were ushered to their suite, along with their luggage. They waited while their escort explained the amenities, and finally, Dewey handed him fifty dollars and told him they were fine. He had opened the drapes in the living room, exposing a wide expanse of white-sand beach. Opening the patio doors, they could hear the sound of the waves and smell the ocean.

  Their luggage sat on luggage racks in the large bedroom. Dewey pulled the drapes back and opened the door, then he closed one of the drape panels, dulling the light but allowing the ocean sound to filter into the room. Layla threw the comforter back on the bed and turned the sheet down; she fluffed the pillows.

  “Well, we’ve finished our housekeeping, now what?” Her wicked grin returned.

  Dewey sat down on the bed and took off his tennis shoes and socks. Layla came up behind him, reached around him, and began unbuttoning his shirt. She tugged and pulled it from his Levi’s.

  “Damn, honey, did you wear enough clothes? A T-shirt too?”

  “I came from Utah, not so warm there,” he said, shrugging out of his shirt and turning slightly to pull her into his lap. “And how about you? Are you now running around Paia almost naked?”

  “Nope, I bought this outfit to drive you crazy. How’s it doing?”

  “You are definitely driving me crazy,” Dewey said, drawing her around, cradling her in his arms, then kissing her deeply. He drew away, asking, “Just how does one get this sexy little number off?”

  Layla stood up and pulled him up with her. She turned to her side and pointed to a zipper hidden in the side of her dress. “Just pull down and tug downward,” she said, smiling.

  Dewey did as he was told, her dress dropping to her feet. In one deft kick, Layla tossed it behind Dewey, who was standing there looking at his angel.

  “You are magnificent!”

  “Thank you, but there is this zipper on my stomach that certainly isn’t very magnificent,” Layla said, gesturing to her stomach.

  Dewey bent down on his knees, drew her to him, and placed several gentle kisses on her zipper. “It’s all part of you. That means I love everything.”

  “Oh, honey.” Layla pulled him up, kissing him.

  Dewey reached behind her and undid her bra; he removed the straps from her shoulders and cupped her breasts in his hands. She grabbed at the sides of his T-shirt, moving his hands away from her breasts and pulled it up so he could pull it over his head.

  “Hmm, your skin feels good on mine,” Layla murmured as they hugged, feeling the warmth of each other’s body.

  As she held on to him, he slipped his thumbs beneath each side of her brief panties and slid them down her thighs. Layla pushed them farther down and stepped out of them, then undid the button of Dewey’s Levi’s and pulled down the zipper. She slid her fingers beneath both his Levi’s and briefs and tugged them down over his slim hips. They fell to his feet, and Dewey stepped out of them.

  “My goodness, it appears brains was not the only thing God was generous with you about,” Layla said, appraising Dewey’s manhood.

  Layla lay down on the bed and pulled Dewey with her, their desire for each other becoming intense.

  “Wait, I almost forgot,” said Dewey, pulling away from her. “I’ve got an entire box of protection, a large box I might add, especially for the occasion.”

  “Dewey,” Layla said softly, “would it be bad if I did get pregnant?”

  Dewey tilted his head, thought for a couple of seconds, then beamed. “No, sweetheart, that would be wonderful!”

  “Then just leave the protection in the box it came in.”

  “Terrific!” Dewey said as he continued his caresses and kisses. In much less time than either of them anticipated, they reached the pinnacle of their lovemaking.

  “Gosh, that was quick,” Layla said breathlessly. “I guess it has been quite a long time for both of us.”

  Dewey rolled over on his side, grabbing Layla’s back, bringing her with him. “I had no desire to be with another woman since I saw you,” Dewey said. “I can feel your heart beating with mine. It might have been quick for both of us, but, honey, it was great!”

  “Oh yes, and we’ll take a little longer next time.”

  Dewey planted soft kisses on her cheeks and eyelids and then kissed her lovingly on the lips. He began softly caressing her breasts, pushing himself deeper into her.

  “Dewey, are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

  “Can’t help myself. I can’t get enough of you.”

  Layla reached up and pulled his lips to hers; she kissed him, saying, “I’ll never get enough of you either. I knew how deeply I felt about you, and now that we have been together, I know you feel that way about me. I’m such a lucky woman.”

  “I have felt that way about you forever it seems. I want us to love each other and enjoy being in love.”

  Later in the afternoon, they ordered a room service lunch, both wanting the privacy of their suite. They ate on the patio. They talked and made love and napped, then once again ordered room service for dinner, vowing the next day to go outside their suite for meals.

  Layla lay on her side, arm thrown over Dewey’s chest, sleep closing in on them when Dewey said,
“Layla, I want to make sure of something, so I’m going to make this formal, well, if you can consider lying in bed naked, formal.”

  Layla yawned. “Sure, ask me anything, but I’m not getting out of bed.”

  “Layla, will you marry me?”

  Layla jerked up and rested her head on one elbow. “Well, of course, and I had decided if you hadn’t asked me by tomorrow afternoon, I was going to ask you.”

  They kissed to seal their commitment, one thing leading to another, but finally, they got to sleep with the promise of making marriage plans later in the day.

  CHAPTER 53

  Ned, Fiona, and George began walking up to the Hanna Highway to meet with Donnie at the Visitors Center. From behind, they heard a voice calling, “Wait up, I’ll walk with you folks.”

  They turned to see Mr. Soo scurrying to catch up.

  “Good afternoon, are you going to Otis’s for a late lunch?” asked Fiona.

  “Yes, my morning walk took longer than usual. Had to answer queries about Layla and Dewey. This town certainly does not miss anything. I need one of Otis’s jumbo cheeseburgers and fries to regain my strength. Where are you folks going?”

  “We’re meeting Donnie at the Visitors Center. George hasn’t been there in a while, and he’s anxious to see how his original ideas have been incorporated into the final concept. Ned works closely with Donnie and the contractor. I’m unfortunately being roped into something as yet unknown by Donnie,” said Fiona with a grimace.

  “Now, honey, don’t be that way,” said Ned. “I’m sure Donnie just wants your valuable opinion on furnishings or decorations.”

  “That better be all he wants. I don’t have time to put up with all the things you tell me go on with the various factions putting their noses into this project.”

  “Ms. Fiona, I am sure whatever Donnie has in mind for your services will be of the utmost value to the center,” said Mr. Soo.

  “Mr. Soo, you’re so charming,” said Fiona.

  After crossing the street, Fiona and Ned walked up the driveway to the Visitors Center, and George hung back, saying to Mr. Soo, “I’ll be over to Otis’s in a bit. I’ve got to have one of his chocolate malts. Annie would have a fit if she found out I was having something so fattening and high in cholesterol, but she’ll never suspect that I would detour over to Otis’s after the Visitors Center.”

  “Ah, a conspiracy. Your secret is safe with me.”

  George strode up the embankment to the Visitors Center, and Mr. Soo made his way to Otis’s. George took a couple of steps inside, removed his sunglasses, and gazed around the large open space in amazement.

  “George, good to see you,” said Donnie, walking toward him.

  “I can’t believe you have turned my ideas into reality. I’m speechless.”

  “When I mentioned your ideas to the architect, he saw their value and incorporated almost all of them into our design. He was especially fond of the upper windows and reflective pole mirrors that bring light into the facility—very green and, best of all, saves on the electric bill. The large greeting desk, which our docents will man, was also your idea, along with the food and the gift areas. The rest remains open so tourists and guests can walk around, looking at these wonderful photos we have blown up of old Paia.”

  Under the small high windows were large sepia photos of old Paia, some of them going back over 105 years to the historic days when Paia was a plantation town during the height of the sugarcane industry. George walked around, fascinated at the old pictures of his town.

  “Donnie, where did you find these? They are wonderful and certainly paint a historic picture of Paia.”

  “This was our architect’s idea. I spent time with some of the city’s old-timers to find photos we could use. I believe these will make the center very appealing to residents as well as tourists.”

  “I’m very impressed with all I’ve seen, especially these pictures, they are a treasure. You did really well, Donnie,” Fiona said.

  “Thank you, Fiona, that compliment coming from someone of your design caliber means a great deal to me.”

  “And, George, Ned was telling me how much of this design was your idea. I didn’t realize you were so darn clever. It’s wonderful.”

  “Thanks, but you know we engineers are a clever lot,” George said with his usual grin.

  As they were chatting, from behind the gift counter, Wade popped up, saying, “Hi, everybody. Donnie, I finished the gift counter. I still have some finishing touches to make on the food counter, then I’m all done.”

  “Wade, did you design and build these counters and desks?” asked Fiona.

  “I made them, but I believe this is about half the design concept of George and the architect. Turned out wonderful. The wrapped teak wood is just right to offset the original dark wood of the market.”

  “Absolutely, the contrast is perfect, and I especially like how you set in a glass viewing space in the gift counter. Very classy looking,” said Ned.

  George and Wade walked over to the food counter and were discussing finishing details. Ned spotted the contractor outside and went to talk with him, leaving Fiona with Donnie.

  Donnie guided Fiona over to the gift counter. “Fiona, this is where I would like to solicit your expertise and good taste. George and I thought this would be an excellent place to display and sell the work of local artists. No cheap tourist items like magnets, pens with windsurfers in liquid gel, you know the type of items I’m referencing. I’ll place an ad in the area papers asking those interested to submit a letter describing what they would sell, the prices, and send photos. They would also have to work one day a week at the center, behind the gift counter, manning the cash register. I wonder if you would be willing to go through the candidates and select those that you feel would be proper to represent the real art work of Paia.”

  “That would be a very interesting task. I would enjoy working with our many talented local artists. How many should we consider?”

  “I know there are enough quality craftspeople or artists in Paia for us to select a minimum of seven candidates.”

  “I imagine we will have a large number of applicants to screen. I’m sure I’ll be offending some folks, but I understand what type of items you are interested in displaying.”

  “See those shelves?” Donnie asked, pointing to two sets of shelves above the display area. “Those will hold the six charcoals that Layla has done. They are of the beach area and the windsurfers. Magnificent works of art, and I have no idea what price to put on them. I’ll need your help there too.”

  “Where are you storing them?” Fiona asked.

  “I have them in the safe at the bank. I thought that would keep them out of the moist air for as long as possible. Let me know when you would like to come by and look at them.”

  “First, you need to get your ad in the local paper. Do you have a script for the ad?”

  “No, I’m sorry to say. I tried writing something a couple of times, but it sounded stuffy, or so my wife says.”

  “I’ll take care of that for you. We won’t want to offend anybody, but we’ll want to make it clear from the beginning we are only interested in true artists.”

  “Excellent, Fiona, I truly appreciate your help,” said Donnie.

  “I had no idea what you were going to ask of me, but I’m going to enjoy this project. Something different, and I have always been an exponent of our local artists.”

  “Wade, I like what has been done with the food area. The way you’ve set up the entrance to the ordering counter once you are in, the only exit with your food is to the outside patio. That’s a good way to keep food from inside the center. It’s obvious, but the way the wood is wrapped around so softly, it’s non-obtrusive,” said George, gliding his hand along the wood.

  “I thought the flow was good, and it will get folks outside to eat or dri
nk and be on their way.”

  George shook Wade’s hand, saying, “I’ve got to go and meet a friend, but we’ll be seeing you at Layla’s.”

  George found Donnie and Fiona, and Fiona told him about her new assignment. “You are the perfect person for the job. You have such good taste. I’m sure everything sold here will be the best Paia has to offer.”

  “Thank you, George. There’s Ned. I can’t wait to tell him,” Fiona said and hurried to tell Ned of her involvement in the Visitors Center.

  “Well, Donnie, I’m going to be going. I appreciate the tour. Great idea having Fiona handling the artists. That way, you won’t lose any bank customers if they aren’t chosen to place their work in the center.”

  Donnie blushed. “George, you are too clever. That’s one of the reasons I chose Fiona. People seldom get mad at her. They just say that’s Fiona and forget about being slighted. I want you to know that on the bronze plaque that will go beside the main entrance door to the center, both the architect and I wanted your name there listed as a design consultant.”

  “I’m grateful. That’s a cool tribute. Annie will be so proud. My appreciation to both you and the architect.” George said goodbye and walked next door to join Mr. Soo at Otis’s.

  George entered Otis’s and spotted Mr. Soo sitting at the counter with the sheriff; he sat down on the other side of the sheriff.

  “Hi, guys,” he said, slouching down on the counter stool. “I don’t want anyone reporting to Annie I’m in here having a malt. She wouldn’t say anything, but I would get that ‘if looks could kill’ stare for a day or two, and that’s a terrible thing to go through.”

  “Well, hello, George,” Otis said, coming up to the counter, “I take it you’re here for one of your chocolate malt fixes.”

  “I’ve been dying for one for several weeks now. I just had to time it right,” George said, grinning, knowing Otis was aware of Annie not wanting him to imbibe in something like a malt.

  “Coming right up,” Otis said, walking away to his malt-making duties.