Ukulele Murder: A Nani Johnson Aloha Lagoon Mystery (Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Book 1)

by Leslie Langtry

  "Well, I'm in," Binny says. "I'm going to help too."

  I hug my friend. It's probably a good idea to have her—until I decide if Nick is for real.

  "You'll help a little or a lot?" I ask.

  "I will do everything your boyfriend is doing," she says. "You have to give me everything he's got…except for the kiss."

  We agree to meet up the next morning, and I call Nick. He's in, he says. I go to bed that night wondering where all this is going.

  I wake up with no answers.

  I sit on the lanai, eating a bowl of sugar-something cereal, staring out into the garden. My eyes alight on that stupid kauwila tree. It all comes rushing back to me. Kua's murder, the missing uke, Leilani indicating to Detective Ray that I'm connected—all spins around in my stomach like a bad case of acid reflux.

  Since I have a moment alone, I should start piecing this together. What do I know that I haven't thought of? Well, there's that argument Leilani and Kua had the night he was murdered. She'd come over to get into a fight. And I'd seen them arguing later too.

  But that wasn't anything out of the norm. The two of them bickered all the time. They certainly had an adversarial relationship. I think about Kua and me—did we have an adversarial relationship?

  We basically had no contact. The few times we'd spoken, Kua had sought me out to pick a fight with me. I never started it. Oh wait. There was the first time we'd met. I guess I'd initiated that.

  It was almost a year ago, shortly after I'd moved here. If you asked me to pin down the date—I couldn't. The weather is always the same here. It's impossible to gauge time by the weather. It's always sunny, and the temperature never varies that much. This is the only problem with living in paradise.

  Anyway—there had been an open house at a new concert hall in Lihue, and I'd heard a lot of the island's musicians were going because the concert hall was going to have an open mic as a way to feel out future acts. Thinking this would be an excellent time for networking, I'd grabbed my ukulele and went.

  My attitude back then was annoyingly optimistic. I'd just moved here, found a great little cottage, and the future was full of promise. Once at the concert hall, I sat in the audience and marveled at the acoustics. It wasn't a large auditorium. It held maybe 400 people. But whoever designed it had paid exquisite attention to the acoustics. The result was that no matter where you were sitting, you heard the same concert as someone in the front row.

  I watched as the Terrible Trio performed—each separately, of course—and decided to jump up next. I wanted to be measured against these amazing talents. It was my chance to make my mark.

  I'm a very good musician. I enjoy each and every note and chord and feel the music swelling in my bones as I play. My teachers at Julliard were shocked when I switched from classical guitar to the tiny instrument. But in the end, they encouraged me. At least they didn't kick me out.

  After Leilani—the third of the Trio to play—finished performing, I took my chance and walked out onto the stage. After introducing myself, I played probably my best performance ever. I did a fingerstyle performance of a collage of old Appalachian folk songs. This was a tribute to one of my favorite composers, Aaron Copeland, and one of my favorite violinists, Mark O'Connor. And it went very, very well. I didn't miss a note.

  When I finished, I took a bow, and amid what I thought had been very enthusiastic applause, I headed for the wings. Full of the high of an appreciative audience, I walked over to the Terrible Trio, who had been watching me from the backstage.

  Alohalani spoke first. "Not bad, for a haole." He turned and left.

  "Why would you play that redneck crap here?" Kua spat.

  Leilani rolled her eyes. "I was way better than you."

  "Oh." I fumbled, a little shocked by their bitterness. "Well, I thought you three were all great!" A little sugar can take the sting out of the angriest bee, my father always said.

  He was wrong.

  "I was great." Kua snorted. "Alohalani was good. Leilani sucked. And you—I don't even have words to describe whatever that was."

  Okay…

  "It was Aaron Copeland, you moron!" Leilani hissed at him. "Even if she didn't do it justice."

  Kua glared at me. "Why are you here?"

  I couldn't believe this was happening. "I just moved here…" I said. "I'm hoping to work here on Kauai."

  "With that?" Leilani pointed a crimson-painted nail at my mahogany ukulele. "I don't think so."

  "I'm not sure what you mean," I said.

  "She means it's a haole ukulele played by a haole mainlander," Kua sniped.

  I started to get angry. I'd been completely complimentary and respectful. But these two…

  "That was an excellent performance." I pointed toward the stage behind me. "And the audience loved it."

  Leilani narrowed her eyes. "That audience would applaud an epileptic basset hound playing the xylophone. They know nothing of our true art." She shook her head, as if I was an idiot. I tried to imagine said dog playing the xylo, so maybe I was an idiot.

  The two of them left the backstage area, leaving me to wonder just what had happened. After that moment, I avoided the three musicians. I never initiated conversation with them. And I aimed a bit lower to get work. Which is how I ended up giving lessons and working bar mitzvahs.

  Since then, I've had no relationship with any of them. Leilani implicated me as being closer to Kua than I was. She had to be involved somehow. But could I see her as a murderer? I wasn't sure. Granted, it would make things easier if she was, but could she actually kill him?

  Did Leilani sneak into my home, steal my instrument, then bludgeon Kua in order to eliminate the competition? If she did, what is stopping her from taking Alohalani or me out too? (Weirdly, I'd be flattered to be included in this group.) Maybe the only thing keeping me alive is that Leilani knows it would be obvious if the professor and I were both murdered. Chills race down my spine as I realize Leilani might consider killing me. She never thought I was a real threat, but she certainly hates me. That would suck. I just got a boyfriend, and everything is looking up. Well, she's not going to get me. What's she going to do? Kill me with my own ukulele? Does she think that would implicate me as well? Who bludgeons herself to death with her own instrument?

  I could just see the headlines: "Idiot and Untalented Haole Performer Kills Self with Own Uke." Mom would probably believe it. I pictured her giving an interview to the media, saying, I always knew it was possible. She could not come to grips with her mixed Hawaiian heritage.

  No way am I going to allow myself to get killed so Mom can say something like that. I think about the detective and how he was slowly…very slowly…stringing together circumstantial evidence to condemn me. If I leave it in his hands, it could take months before he finally arrests me.

  Nope. Not going to happen. I pick up my phone and call first Nick, then Binny. Both agree to meet me at the Loco Moco for lunch. I'm going to take them up on their offer. We are going to investigate this before I get arrested.

  "Mom!" I shout as I grab my keys. "I'm heading out."

  There is no reply. Should I check on her? After breakfast, she started watching TV in the sunroom.

  "Okay, Nani," Mom shouts back. "I'm watching a CSI marathon so I can help you after you get arrested for murder."

  I sigh.

  For a moment I picture my mother in one of her muumuus, looking through a magnifying glass at a test tube. It makes me shudder as I unlock the car and get in. As I back down the driveway and onto the street, I think that I'd better figure this out before Mom gets involved. There's no telling what that woman is capable of. She even thinks I'm going to get arrested.

  The Loco Moco is packed, but Nick has scored a table. Binny arrives right after me and follows me.

  "Nick Woodfield," I say, motioning toward her. "This is my friend Binny Finau. Binny, Nick."

  We take our seats, and the harried waitress drops off menus as she rushes past our table. It's super busy here.


  "You aren't Minnie Finau's daughter, are you?" Nick asks.

  Binny's jaw drops. "How do you know my mom?" I'm sure she's surprised, since she said she's never met the Woodfields.

  Nick grins. "My dad knew your mom. They worked together once."

  I'm confused. "What did they work on?"

  Nick hasn't mentioned his dad, and for some reason, I'd never asked. Binny's mom stayed home. Minnie Finau never had a job that I knew of. How did they know each other?

  "It was a long time ago. Before we were born." Nick unfolds his napkin and places it on his lap. I love that he has nice manners.

  "My dad," he continues, "used to be on the school board. They teamed up to get Hawaiian taught at the elementary school."

  Binny's face lights up with recognition. "Oh, right. Mom told me that when I was a student. She told me I had her and your dad to thank for having to take two languages."

  "You've never mentioned your dad, Nick," I say, trying to find a delicate way to ask if he is still alive.

  The waitress joins us at that exact moment. A girl in her 20s, she looks like she hasn't had a break since 1992. Her face is flushed, and her hair is a mess. I wonder if she's new.

  "What'llyahave?" Her words all run together in an effort to hurry us along.

  We all order burger platters. She writes them down so fast I wonder if she'll remember it correctly. The girl disappears as quickly as she'd appeared.

  "My dad died five years ago," Nick says simply, without much emotion. "My parents were divorced, and he'd been living on the Big Island for a while."

  "I'm so sorry," I say as I take his hand. "My dad died a year and a half ago. It's why we moved here."

  Nick puts a hand over mine and gives me a sweet look. Binny grins lopsidedly. Nick and I are getting a little too flirty for her. She's not big on public displays of affection.

  "So…" My friend steers the conversation back to the present. "How are we going to help Nani avoid a life in prison?"

  Her choice of words startles us out of our little moment, and Nick starts to laugh self-consciously.

  "Right. That's why we're here. We should talk about that." He blushes a little. Is there anything this man can do that isn't wonderful?

  A cell rings, and Nick frowns at his phone. "I'm sorry—I really have to take this." He gets up and takes the phone outside.

  "Must be a botanical emergency," I say.

  Binny laughs. "I like him. He's perfect for you. It's just…"

  "What?"

  "It's probably nothing," she says as she stares thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I guess it's weird that I grew up here and never, ever bumped into him. After all those years, we finally meet, and it's like we are old friends or something."

  I nod. "He does have a way of putting people at ease. I don't think that's a bad thing."

  The waitress dumps our platters and drinks on the table in one fluid movement as she walks past. It's kind of like a drive-by—only with food instead of bullets.

  "You're right." Binny tucks her napkin in her lap and squirts ketchup on her fries. "I'm being weird." She dips a fry in the red puddle and pops it into her mouth.

  "Right or not, I'll take any help I can get right now." I follow her lead and begin devouring my lunch.

  "You'll be fine. I doubt Detective Ray will arrest you. He doesn't have any concrete proof." Binny looks at the door. Nick is still talking outside.

  "How well do you know the detective?" I ask. I feel a little bad eating without Nick, but since it's just fries and not our burgers, that's okay, right?

  Binny shakes her head and dips another fry. "Not well. I've seen him around town and all, but never did anything that would bring him to my house." She frowns, "In fact, I don't remember there ever being a murder in Aloha Lagoon before."

  I sit up straighter. "Really? No murders?" That seems a little weird to me. The odds must be off the charts.

  "Nope," she says. "I mean, there've been deaths before, obviously. And an accident a few years ago when some guy tried to jump off the cliffs outside of town."

  "Are you sure it wasn't suicide?" I think about the cliffs she means. There's nothing but a rocky gorge below.

  She shakes her head. "I'm sure. He wasn't the smartest guy. His friends who were with him said he figured he'd float down to the bottom. There was some talk about drugs being involved."

  I stared at her. "You think?"

  Nick joins us, sitting down and digging into his food. "Oh good. You started. I was going to tell you to do that. No point in waiting for me."

  Something's a little off. He seems distracted somehow. I watch as he takes a bite of his sandwich and chews. It's as if he shoved food into his mouth so he wouldn't have to talk.

  "What's wrong?" I ask. "Something happen at work? Mrs. Horowitz mow down a whole garden of rare, endangered flowers?"

  My joke only receives a weak grin.

  "Who's Mrs. Horowitz?" Binny asks, and I fill her in.

  "Ugh," Binny says. "I hope she's gone. I can't stand tourists like that. They act as if we should be so lucky to have them here."

  Nick has stopped chewing. He looks like he's gotten some bad news.

  "What's wrong?" I ask again.

  The man sighs and shakes his head. "There was another murder—this time at the resort."

  "What? Who?" I ask.

  "It's Leilani." Nick looks directly at me. "Apparently she was pushed off a cliff and into the ocean while performing at a wedding at the Overlook in one of my gardens at the resort."

  My eyes are bulging. I can actually feel them. "Leilani's dead?" And she was doing weddings? That's kind of my thing.

  Binny looks from me to Nick. "How? What happened?"

  Nick sets down his burger and gives us a look I can't decipher. "It happened this morning. Just the couple and a priest. All three say a woman with long brown hair ran out of the bamboo trees and shoved Leilani over the cliff. They’re guessing the body hit the rocks before falling into the sea. They haven't found it yet."

  Now he looks straight at me. "The person who pushed Leilani shouted something about Leilani stealing her gigs."

  I'm unable to move. Unable to breathe.

  Binny speaks the words I can't. "It sounds like you, Nani. They could be describing you."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When I finally am able to speak, I struggle with the words. "But…but it wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

  Nick takes my hand this time, and Binny pats me on the back.

  "Of course it wasn't you!" my friend says.

  "I know it wasn't you," my future boyfriend says.

  "It sure as hell sounds like me," I say dimly. The room is spinning, and I feel light headed.

  "Why did they call you?" Binny asks Nick.

  He nods. "Detective Ray is the one who called. He asked some questions about the copse of bamboo trees where the killer had been hiding. He wants me to look at the damage done, for some reason."

  "That doesn't really make sense." Binny frowns. "Why call you? What does a botanist have to do with this?"

  Nick shakes his head. "I have no idea. I think he's either some weird savant who sees things differently or he's just not very smart at all."

  My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. "He's going to come find me next. He's going to think I did it…"

  "You didn't do it," Binny insists. She looks at Nick. "What time did it happen? And didn't you say they haven't found the body?"

  Nick shrugs. "The detective didn't give me much information."

  My friend puts her hand on my shoulder. I barely feel it. "I'm sure you have an alibi for this morning. Your mother had to see you. Right?"

  I think about Mom sitting there watching CSI and taking notes for the arrest she was sure was coming. It's not like her to be right like this. I wonder how she knew.

  Burying my face in my hands, I mumble, "Well, yes. Mom was home. That's true."

  "See?" Binny smiles, but she looks worried. "It'll all be
okay."

  "Someone is definitely framing you," Nick adds gently. "By going after Kua and Leilani, they are trying to establish a pattern of you eliminating the competition."

  "And wearing a disguise to look like you. It's ingenious really," Binny adds.

  "I'm afraid I can't share your enthusiasm for the details of the plot." I pick at my food. I don't really have an appetite anymore. I shove the plate away from me.

  "You shouldn't go home just yet," Nick says quietly. His eyes are darting around the restaurant. "Detective Kahoalani is probably headed there right now to arrest you."

  I throw my hands up in the air. "Of course he's heading to my house. Someone's out to get me, and I have to admit—they're doing a great job."

  Binny nods. "It does sound bad."

  "Not helping…" I growl through gritted teeth.

  "Sorry," she says. "What can we do now? How can we help?"

  I shake my head. "This is out of control. Two murders, that I'm being framed for, have occurred in the last two days. Witnesses saw me at the scene of the most recent murder. I'm screwed."

  Nick squeezes my hand. "No, you're not. You have us, and we aren't going to let them railroad you."

  "Who is 'they'?" I ask. "We have no idea who killed Kua and Leilani. We don't even know how or where to begin!"

  Nick stands up and throws several 20s on the table. It's more than enough to cover our bill and a tip. Binny reaches for her purse, but he holds up his hand to stop her.

  "Come on," he says before leading us to the door. "Let's get out of here."

  We walk out into the sunshine, but I don't see it. The beautiful day seems stained somehow—tarnished by murder. Nick urges us into his car and starts it up.

  "Where are we going?" I probably should've asked before we got into the car. My brain hasn't caught up with reality yet.

  Nick looks right and left before pulling out into traffic. "Somewhere they won't be looking for you. Somewhere we can think this thing through before you talk to the detective."

  As if in response, my cell rings. It's the same number that Detective Ray called me from before. I let it go to voice mail.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Binny asks. "Won't it look like Nani's going on the lam?"