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

by Leslie Langtry

  But I didn't have a ukulele with me. I study the instrument I'm still gripping. There are a few moments of foggy recollection. It's the kauwila uke. My missing uke! How did it get here? Did I find it before I passed out? It was probably here all along. I sigh with relief. I'd never thought to look here. Of course, I don't remember bringing it to the chapel, but who knows?

  There's something on the edge of the instrument. It's red and sticky. Is that human hair? Oh no. No, no, no, no! This is the murder weapon. This is the uke everyone's looking for—the one that killed Kua! I'd better call Detective Ray. No more messing around. This just got super serious.

  A distant sound resonates, making me think I should do something right now. What is that? Again, I close my eyes to concentrate. Sirens! It's the sound of sirens. Like the police use. Huh. I've lived here for a year and never heard them before. I wonder what's going on.

  The noise stops abruptly, and a few seconds later, Detective Ray bursts through the door of the chapel, followed by two police officers in uniform.

  "Miss Johnson," the detective says. "Put the ukulele down and put your hands up."

  "Sir?" one of the uniforms ask. "You should look at this."

  The men stare at something behind the last pew. I walk over, overwhelmed by the urge to run. It takes all the self-control I have to put one foot in front of the other.

  "Miss Johnson, you are under arrest," Detective Ray says as he takes the instrument from my hands.

  I arrive at the spot where they are looking. On the floor, unconscious and bleeding, is Pastor Dan.

  "Why did you do it?" one of the uniforms asks me.

  "I didn't!" I kneel down to examine my friend. "Someone…" I try to explain, but I've got nothing.

  When did this happen? I was out—I didn't see a thing.

  "He's still alive." Detective Ray has his hand on Dan's neck. "Call an ambulance!"

  The detective points at me and says to one of the uniforms, "Arrest her for the murders of Kua Liu, Leilani O'Flanagan, Alohalani Kealoha, and for the attempted murder of Dan Presley."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As the only person in the one jail cell in all of Aloha Lagoon, this isn't too bad. Okay, so it's terrible. They should hire Mom to decorate. And I'm not using that toilet, at all, ever.

  Not only am I in here for crimes I didn't commit, but also no one will tell me how Pastor Dan is. In fact, they haven't offered me my phone call or even a drink of water. I glance at the toilet. Even if they had a sink in here, I wouldn't drink the water.

  My mouth is so dry. And there's a strange taste on the back of my tongue. It doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. I would never hurt Dan Presley. Yes, I was sitting in the chapel, thinking of all the things I'd change if Dan was dead and left it all to me, but that's not a motive, is it?

  No! I would never hurt him to get the place. Never! It was just boredom that made me come up with that. Fortunately, the police don't know what I was thinking. They just know that when they walked in, I was holding the murder weapon and Dan was unconscious on the floor. It doesn't look good.

  And just why did the police come to the church? I never called anyone. In fact, no one even knew I was there. Just Pastor Dan. He'd texted me. Asked me to come over. And yet, he wasn't there. Not when I was looking for him anyway.

  Someone hit him over the head with my ukulele and set me up, or I've started sleep-homicide walking. Somebody—most likely the murderer of the Terrible Trio—framed me. They must've forced Dan to text me. But how did they knock me out?

  The mosquito bite. I touched where I was bitten. It isn't swollen or itchy. It wasn't a bug bite. A hypodermic needle? That would explain the unconsciousness…the exhaustion…the bad taste in my mouth. I was drugged. I need to tell the detective as soon as possible.

  But right now, I’m alone and in jail. I'm in jail. I have to admit—the killer did a really good job setting me up. It's impressive. Dan's cell will show that he texted me, and my phone will concur. The police arrived just in time to find me holding a bloody uke. My fingerprints are all over it. If I ever get it back—which seems unlikely—I'm going to burn it like a medieval witch.

  This is very bad. If Dan is in a coma or dead, he won't be able to clear me. Tears prick the inside corners of my eyes. Please, please, let Pastor Dan be all right. Not for me…not to clear my name. But because I care so much about the man.

  I'm still struggling to keep composed when an officer comes to take me to an interrogation room. He sits me down at a small table with two chairs and leaves the room. Detective Ray comes in and takes the chair opposite me. No one has handcuffed me to the table. I'm going to think of that as a good sign.

  "How is Dan Presley?" I ask, rubbing my itchy tear ducts. "Please tell me he's going to be okay."

  "He's in a coma. The doctor has no idea when or if he will wake up."

  "I know how this looks." My voice shakes as I speak. "But I've been set up. I didn't kill or even hit anyone. And I haven't seen that uke until tonight!"

  Detective Ray looks at me. His hound-dog face is completely blank. I have no idea what he's thinking. And it scares me.

  “I’m pretty sure I was drugged.” I show the detective the spot where I believe I was injected.

  He shrugs and pulls my cell phone out of the pocket of his aloha shirt, sliding it to me. "You have one phone call."

  I stare at the cell for a moment before picking it up. I only get one chance to ask for help. And I call the one person I trust.

  Back in the cell, I pace like a caged animal…which, in fact, I am. If I get out of here, I'm going to devote every second to finding out who did this. The police don't care, because they've been handed the perfect scenario complete with killer (me) caught in the act (unconscious Dan) holding the murder weapon (kauwila uke) that I (allegedly) used to kill Kua.

  My fear is turning to fury now. This is my home! Well, not this jail cell. No matter how the Terrible Trio tried to run me off (even though they're all dead), this is where I'm staying. I'm going to fight tooth and nail to get out of here, and then I'm not going to sleep until I catch this killer.

  "Miss Johnson?" asks the same officer who took me to the interrogation room.

  Who else would I be? I'm the only one here, in the only cell you've got! But I don't tell him that.

  "Your attorney is here." The policeman unlocks the cell. "Your bail has been posted, and you're free to go."

  Attorney? I don't have an attorney. And I don't know how much the bail is, but I assume it's more than Mom or Binny can pay.

  I'm led to the lobby, where Nick is standing with my best friend and a well-dressed man I've never seen before. I'm so confused that I just stop and stand there, gawking. Nick bailed me out? I called Binny, not Nick. She said she didn't exactly trust him. Why did she call him?

  "Nani Johnson?" The man I don't know steps forward and shakes my hand. "I'm your attorney."

  Nick nods almost imperceptibly. Binny flings herself into my arms.

  "Okay," I respond. And that's all I say as I walk out the door with my best friend, my possible boyfriend, and my lawyer, whom I've never met before.

  "What happened last night?" Binny asks. "Why didn't you call?"

  I shake my head. It's hard enough for me to get my brain around what happened. I'm still not sure I can even talk about it.

  "Let's get you home," Nick says soothingly. Binny nods.

  In the car, Binny chatters about the weather. I like it. It drowns out the thoughts in my head. I lean back and close my eyes. Before I know it, we're at my house.

  Nick waves and points to the strange attorney. "I'm going to check him into the resort. I'll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast, and you can tell us what happened."

  Binny, on the other hand, follows me inside. Mom appears and looks worried, but Binny waves her off.

  "You go take a long, hot shower. Then you hit the hay. I'll stay overnight."

  "Thank you," I groan as I walk into my room and shut the
door. Although, I don't know what defense Binny can put up should the killer arrive. But I'm too tired to care.

  My mind starts to wander to the events of last night, but I shut it out. After a hot shower I climb into bed and, to my complete surprise, fall asleep.

  "Wake up!" Binny stands over me, holding a cup of tea. "Nick called, and we have to meet him and Mr. Bones in half an hour."

  I open one eye, which is all she's going to get right now. "Mr. Bones?"

  She nods. "Your attorney."

  My attorney is named Mr. Bones? That can't be good. I sit up and stay that way for a few seconds. Then I climb out of bed and get dressed. I'm just brushing my teeth, when Binny pops in again.

  "Ready?"

  She looks like a million bucks for someone who probably spent the night on my couch.

  "What about Mom?"

  My mother still has no idea what happened to me last night. She's either worried sick or halfway through a pitcher of mimosas. For the first time in a year, I kind of hoped it was the second one.

  "I told her you had a little trouble last night and that everything's fine." Binny winks as if we're involved in a major conspiracy operation.

  We get into her Jeep, and she drives us to the resort for breakfast. Nick and Mr. Bones (I'm not at all confident I can say his name without giggling) are waiting for us. We sit down and order breakfast. I'm a little nervous about what happens now. I've never needed a lawyer in my life. Okay—we had one after Dad died, but technically that attorney wasn't mine.

  When the waitress walks away, I tell them what really happened, and then I tell them what the police think happened last night and about being drugged. Binny's hand covers her mouth the whole time, and Nick looks worried. Mr. Bones just looks lawyerly.

  "I wish you'd come to me sooner," Mr. Bones says. He's a tall, thin man with gray hair and one of those pencil-thin mustaches. He looks serious. Really serious.

  Nick shakes his head. "We weren't worried about Nani getting arrested before." He turns to me. "Bones here has been our family's attorney since my grandfather was alive."

  "You didn't have to fly in your lawyer, Mr.…er…Bones," I say. "I don't know if I can afford him." I look at the attorney. "No offense."

  Nick shakes his head. "I'm covering this one. I have a huge trust fund, and I should use it for something."

  "I don't know…" This is just too much. I can't let Nick pay for this.

  "I won't take no for an answer, Nani. Besides, you need him. You're out on bail, and that means they are suspicious enough to set bail in the first place."

  I sigh heavily. I don't deserve this kindness. And what is Nick expecting in return?

  "I don't expect anything," Nick says as if he can read my mind. "You owe me nothing."

  "Ahem…" Mr. Bones clears his throat. "So after what you've just told me, Miss Johnson, I've got my work cut out for me. I’d like you to have some blood drawn so we can find out what you were injected with. Do you know where the nearest lab is?”

  I nod. He’s right. The blood work could help my case.

  “You should go right away. Whatever it is won’t stay in your system too much longer. I'll see what I can do. And Mr. Woodfield gave me the license number on the white car. I’ll run the plate." He stands. "I'm going to make a few calls. Excuse me."

  "What about breakfast?" I ask. "You just ordered."

  He nods. "Just have it sent to my room." Mr. Bones gives Nick a slip of paper and leaves.

  "Huh," I say.

  "What?" Nick asks.

  "I just thought there'd be more to it than that." I take a drink of orange juice.

  Binny takes my hand. "I can't believe you went through all that last night!"

  Our food arrives, and we stop talking. No point in adding to the gossip in town. Once the waitress gets instructions for the delivery of Mr. Bones's breakfast, she leaves us alone.

  I devour my food, probably looking like a rabid warthog. Nick and Binny eat in silence. They are waiting for me to make the first move. I slow down, taking my time with the eggs, toast, and bacon. I have no answers for them. Just questions.

  "So." Nick wipes his mouth on a napkin and replaces it on his lap. "What are your thoughts?"

  "I don't have any. Just questions," I say. "We haven't even looked into Kua's and Alohalani's murders. Just Leilani's."

  "No," Binny disagrees. "We went to Kua's funeral. And we've suspected the Sea Dogs."

  I shove my plate away. "I don't think it's them. They hardly know me. Why frame me?" Besides, if a gang of thugs had broken into my house and stolen my uke, I think I'd know it.

  "You think it's the work of one person," Nick muses. "Why?"

  "I've never seen the Sea Dogs before now. Not once in Aloha Lagoon. It's hard to believe they could be involved." That, and I didn't want to start investigating them. I'm a lazy detective. I could give Detective Ray a run for his money.

  "And I'm sure these murders are all linked. They all have two things in common. One"—I tick off my fingers—"they're the only ukulele musicians on the island. And two—I'm the only common denominator."

  "You could be the next victim." Binny tries to comfort me, but somehow her words don't help.

  "No," Nick says. "They didn't kill you last night. They framed you. Whoever it is wants you in prison for this."

  Binny tries another tactic. "If you could tell the police who you think did it, who would you say? Right now?"

  I think about this for a second. "It has to be one of Leilani's people. All five on Ray's list were connected to Leilani. Gina and Elizabeth are blatant liars, and they don't seem to like me. They pretended to love Leilani, but Todd says they didn't get along. And they lived with Leilani, so they'd know about me."

  "What about Todd?" Binny asks. "It's obvious he and Leilani were an item."

  "I don't know about him," I answer.

  Nick pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket. "I did a little digging on Alohalani."

  We turn to him, jaws on the floor. Is that where he's been?

  "I talked to a couple of people who know him. Turns out Leilani owed him a lot of money. Kua too. Both were students of his, back in the day. They borrowed money from him. Apparently, they wanted to just play music without the inconvenience of a day job. He set them up, helped them get gigs, and took care of their expenses so they could establish themselves as professional musicians."

  I shrug. "Okay, so how does that information help?"

  Nick grins. "The professor was broke. He'd been demanding the two of them pay him back for months now. I guess he had a bit of a gambling problem."

  "I still don't see how this helps," I say. "It only implicates Kua or Leilani in the murder, but they were both dead before Alohalani was killed."

  "I think it's significant somehow," Nick says. "Maybe he owed other people money too. Bad people. Someone who would've broken into his office to find the loan contracts."

  Binny asks, "He made contracts with them when they borrowed from him?"

  Nick nods. "He did."

  "But," I insist one more time, "Kua and Leilani are dead too. They couldn't have killed Alohalani."

  I want to believe this information is helpful. I really do. But it just doesn't add up.

  "Was he married?" I ask. "If so, did you talk to her?"

  Nick shakes his head, "Yes, he was married, and no—I didn't talk to her. She took his body to Oahu for cremation and his funeral. But I don't think she did it. According to my sources, she's only five feet tall and very frail."

  "So who are these sources?" I ask.

  "Students." Nick grins. "His work-study students, including the one you met at the front desk. Turns out they're pretty devoted to the man. It also turns out that he confided in them."

  "Do you think one of Leilani's friends killed him?" I ask.

  "Then why would they kill Leilani?" Binny asks.

  "This is all too twisted. No wonder the police are anxious to arrest me. I'm the easiest way to connect the
murders. For all I know, Fat Mookie and BamBoobs did it."

  Nick frowns. "I forgot about him. He's a gangster, right?"

  I nod. "From Atlantic City. Although they're more normal than the Lugosis. Something's weird about those two. But I don't think any of them murdered the three musicians."

  "I think you're right. From what you've told me about the Lugosis, I think they're investigating something. I just don't think it's connected with this case at all,” Nick says.

  "Maybe they're investigating Fat Mookie? Or the Sea Dogs." I shake my head. "But that doesn't get us any closer to the truth in this case."

  "What about Leilani's roommates?" Binny says. "I still think they're high on the suspect list."

  "I guess." I'm not sure. "They could've killed Leilani because she was evil. Then killed Kua and Alohalani to deflect the spotlight from them onto me. Maybe. I just don't know if they're smart enough."

  "Well then"—Binny stands up—"let's go talk to them one more time."

  Nick frowns. "I have to work today."

  "All right." I stand too. "We can do it at least to rule them out."

  Nick kisses me on the cheek, and Binny takes me to Metro Lab. The blood draw is quick, and I give them Mr. Bones’s number. They tell me it will be a few days. I try to explain that we need the results immediately, and they promise to do what they can. I hope they find something, and soon.

  The drive to Lihue is quiet. Binny and I decide we needed to prepare what to say to the two women so that we don’t spook them.

  "I know!" I snap my fingers. "I'll tell them I borrowed one of Leilani's ukuleles once and need to know if she has any next of kin to return it to!"

  Binny chews her lip. "Won't they wonder why you didn't just call?"

  "We can once again offer our condolences." That doesn't seem too farfetched.

  We agree on this plan as we pull into the parking lot for the women's apartment. I ring the doorbell, and we wait. And that's when I see it.

  "There's a white car over there," I whisper to Binny. Why didn’t I get the plate number from Nick? I should’ve thought of that.