“More like feet. Meters, if you want to be more precise,” Landon held out his hand. “Landon Stone, the other treasure hunter.”
Maya shot me an exasperated look. “You would find someone to play make-believe with you after finding a corpse.”
“Some of us can’t handle the real world as well as you can,” I said cheerfully. Well, as cheerfully as I could, considering I had just dragged a dead body onto the sand.
Maya ignored that. “Who is the man? Do you know why he’s dead?”
“Bentley Barber had it coming,” said Landon ominously.
Maya and I both gaped at him.
“What?” Maya demanded. A cool breeze rushed by and I shivered.
“Apparently, anyway.” Landon shrugged. “That’s what I overheard those two guys saying. They seemed to think it was only a matter of time before Bentley’s misdeeds caught up with him.”
I looked over and saw two middle-aged men wearing button down shirts and sandals curiously watching the commotion—Micah and Evan.
“Did you hear anything else?” I asked.
Landon shook his head. His stormy blue eyes lingered on mine for a brief second before he averted his gaze. Then he cleared his throat. “Okay, so there was one more thing. They thought you might have had something to do with his death.”
“Me?” I said in shock.
“Alana, did you kill him?” Maya asked, with an unreadable expression.
Landon gasped. “What?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I didn’t.”
Landon’s wide eyes were still on Maya. Somehow he missed the tiny sparkle of amusement that flashed across her face. “You really think that Alana strangled that guy?”
“Asphyxiation is the obvious answer. But is that how he actually died? He deals with shady characters all the time. Someone could be covering something up,” said Maya.
“You can’t let Bentley die in peace?” I asked. “He’s not going to bother anyone ever again. That should be good enough for everyone.”
Maya narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want him dead so badly? Do you have a reason for wanting him out of the picture?”
I shifted my gaze. Landon gasped again.
“Alana?” Maya’s frown was now concerned instead of joking.
“All right.” I threw my hands up. “I went to Bentley to make up the difference for the bar. I came up short and I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone else for help. I couldn’t give up on my dreams.” I shrugged. “On our dreams.”
“You mean you couldn’t ask me for help,” Maya stated.
“Bentley’s my mistake,” I said firmly. “But that’s got nothing to do with what happened to him. I saw him at the bar earlier. He was alive and well until I stumbled upon his body.”
“Was he already dead when you found him?” asked Maya.
“I tried to resuscitate him, but it was no use. By the time I pulled the noose off of him, Bentley was gone,” I said.
Maya groaned. “That’s not good.”
“Trying to save his life isn’t good?” I asked.
“You tampered with the body. Like a murderer might.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “I wanted to make sure I did everything I could. I didn’t like the guy, but if taking the noose off of him could have saved his life, then I would have done it. I did do it.”
And now I needed to take twenty hot showers to wash off the ick factor of having touched a dead body. Or at least a long bath. The more bubbles, the better.
I yawned. It looked like I wasn’t going to get the chance to sleep until after the sun came up. Poor Landon was probably going to pull an all-nighter for his meeting.
Maya folded her arms. “You need to find who did kill Bentley Barber—before you’re the one who’s accused.”
CHAPTER THREE
Landon and I were free to leave a little while later.
“I’m going to salvage the few hours I have left before my meeting.” Landon yawned. “At least now I know what to talk about. Everyone loves a good dead body story, right?”
He trudged off as I turned to Maya.
“You said that your front desk agent called you?” I asked.
“Yes.” Maya was pensive. “Henry says it was murder. I can’t believe it. A murder steps away from Sandy Turtle.”
“It’s horrible,” I commiserated.
“Natasha called me as soon as she got word that it happened,” said Maya.
I glanced at her. “You got a call when you were fast asleep and you get here in record time, wearing something other than pajama pants? You had a free pass! You could have arrived in a bathrobe and fuzzy bunny slippers and no one would have thought twice.”
“Fuzzy bunny slippers?” Maya grimaced. “Setting your clothes out the night before saves you a ton of time.”
I peered at her face. “Is that mascara? Do you sleep with makeup on? I know you didn’t apply it while driving.”
“Come on, Ms. Germaphobe. I’ll survive from one night of sleeping in waterproof mascara.”
“Ms. Germaphobe,” I muttered. “If I was to enter a contest, it would be something exciting, like who could dig up a corpse the fastest.”
Maya glared at me. “You’re really not helping your case.”
We entered the Sandy Turtle Hotel and were immediately greeted by a large mosaic turtle on the floor. The five-story hotel was small compared to other hotels in Waikiki, but it made up for it with a cozy atmosphere. Exposed wooden beams hung above us, as well as various flowers and decorative lighting.
Colorful mosaic windows accompanied expansive ones that showed picturesque views of the ocean. Of course, the view was better during the day, but there was an eery beauty barely detecting the dark waves in the night sky.
Maya and I headed straight for the front desk, where a woman in her late thirties greeted us. A painted butterfly clip sat above the top of her blond bun and each of her fingernails were a different color. The paint job was shaky, but the woman wore it with pride.
“Natasha, Alana here was the one who found the body, and we want to know what you can tell us. We’re trying to put the pieces together,” said Maya.
Natasha nodded. “I already told the police everything I know,” she said. “A guest came rushing in and told me there had been a murder.”
“It might not be a murder,” said Maya.
“I found a guy with a noose around his throat floating in the ocean,” I said. “That really doesn’t speak of suicide. Someone had to tighten the rope and throw the body in the ocean.”
“I know, I just… it’s becoming more and more real,” said Maya.
“Please, continue,” I said to Natasha. “What did the guest look like? And how did he know it was a murder?”
“Evan Clay—he checked in earlier today. Evan’s about ten years older than me. His shirt had the wrong buttons in the wrong holes, like he had gotten dressed in a hurry. I have no idea how Evan knew, but he was on his phone the whole time. Someone he knows must have been by the beach.”
Evan.
Micah’s friend.
“He ran in here, told me the news, then left right away,” said Natasha.
“Has he returned yet?” I asked.
Natasha shook her head. “I haven’t seen him.”
Maya got his room number so we could meet him when he came back to his room. Not wanting to scare Evan off, we hid out by the ice machine at the end of the hallway. That way Evan wouldn’t see us waiting for him and run away.
A forgotten lei was on the floor, next to the vending machine full of drinks. I picked up the crumpled flowers and threw them in a trash can.
I glanced at Maya. “You don’t have to wait with me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And let you botch this investigation?”
I smirked. “Your boyfriend is the one who’s actually investigating. I’m just covering my bases.”
Maya tapped her ice bucket she had grabbed on our way here. “So am I. I at least look like I belong
. You’re picking up trash from the ground. Don’t you think people will get suspicious?”
I grinned. “I’m here to give you moral support. Who wouldn’t buy that? And besides, picking up litter is never suspicious.”
Maya’s unimpressed expression told me otherwise.
“Fine.” I scanned her professional clothing. “Hold on a minute. I can make this look better.”
A cleaning cart waited outside a nearby room. Among the pile of fresh towels and spray bottles, there was a white fluffy robe just begging to be used. I snatched it.
“Maya, roll up your sleeves,” I said, plopping the robe onto her shoulders.
“This can’t necessary,” she said, but put it on anyway.
I narrowed my eyes. “It looks odd with slacks and nice shoes.”
Maya gaped at me. “If you’re telling me I need to take off my pants, then you’ve got—”
I smiled innocently. “You like dressing appropriately. Tell me, is wearing a robe over your work clothes appropriate garments for two in the morning?”
“It is when you’re sleepwalking,” Maya muttered. “What about you? Where’s your robe?”
Rubbing my hands together, I said, “You looked out of place more than me. I’m wearing jeans. They’re appropriate for any time of day.”
“Right. That makes sense. Because the owner of this hotel can’t be hanging around the ice machine after being dragged out of bed for a dead person who wasn’t even a guest here.” Maya’s mouth thinned.
A group of college-aged people suddenly stumbled out of the elevator, all of them wearing swim suits and pirate hats.
I nudged Maya. “Did you hear about the pirate convention this week?”
“Of course,” said Maya, giving me a funny look. “How could you have missed all the advertising for it?”
“Huh. I don’t know,” I said. I was good at spotting small discrepancies, but big-picture stuff I often missed. I was too busy looking at the details to notice the bigger things.
Like how I suddenly noticed a man coming down the hall with a gash on his arm and rope dangling out of his pocket before I realized that it was Evan Clay.
Maya tapped my shoulder. “He’s heading for the room.”
We casually strolled over to him, but the second Evan spotted us, he got spooked.
“I already paid!” he cried out as he sprinted in the opposite direction.
“Evan!” I yelled.
Maya shushed me. “Think of everyone asleep!”
Evan had a head start, but I didn’t occasionally run on the beach for nothing. The gap between us lessened as I put on a burst of speed.
“This way,” said Maya urgently.
She led me through a shortcut. We were on the third floor and Evan was clearly heading for the lobby. By taking the nearby stairs instead of the elevator, we got to where Evan was in record time.
Or, we should have.
Evan wasn’t anywhere downstairs, so we changed direction.
“Check the elevator. I’ll take the stairs,” I said.
I climbed the stairs two at a time. I made it to Evan’s room in record time, where I bumped into Maya. The hallway was free of pirates and sleepwalkers, and Evan. He was nowhere to be seen.
“I lost him,” she said.
“Me too,” I said. “I was hoping he’d shake us off and come back here, but he’s smarter than that.”
Maya scanned the opposite side of the hotel, checking each floor’s hallway systematically.
I randomly looked everywhere, at anything that caught my attention. A pirate was going into his room with a graduation robe tossed over his shoulder. Another guest was wandering around, sipping hot chocolate while wearing a fluffy robe. Peering over the railing, I looked into the sparse crowd of people.
I covertly pointed to Evan. “Our friend is trying to hide in plain sight.”
Maya followed my gaze. A smile crept over her face. “Too bad for him. Breakfast doesn’t start until 6 a.m.”
We hurried to the seating area in the center of the first floor. You could see it from the hallways of each floor, as the center of the hotel was open until it reached the windowed ceiling.
Plates, bowls, and utensils were covered up for the night. No fresh food was available, but dry cereal was still on display. A basket of packaged protein bars and other snacks were also there.
Maya and I casually slipped into the seats at Evan’s empty table before he realized what was happening.
“First time escaping detection?” I asked.
Evan stared at Maya’s navy shoes. “I don’t get it. Were you cold? Why are you wearing a bathrobe over your clothes?”
Maya glared at me before turning to Evan. “Why did you run from us?”
Evan grimaced. “You already know that answer.”
“Not really. What do you mean, ‘you already paid’?” I asked.
Evan refused to answer, so I pressed on. “What’s the rope for?”
“Old habit,” said Evan. “I used to own a boat and rope was handy to have.”
I gestured to his bloody arm. “And your injury?”
“I tripped on the sand. My arm hit a rock.” Evan peered at it. “It’s not bad. It’ll heal soon enough.”
“You expect us to believe you tripped?” asked Maya.
I was inclined to side with her. “Would you like to admit to killing Bentley Barber? That would save a lot of people a lot of trouble. You won’t have to go through with whatever story you’ve concocted.”
Instead of getting upset, Evan visibly relaxed. “It’s not a story. I really did trip and fall. You’re here for Bentley? That’s a relief. Shoot. What do you want to know?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What did you think we were here for?”
“Let’s just say Bentley and I were business associates. Now that he’s dead, another associate of his wants to finish where he left off,” said Evan vaguely.
“You owed him money and now someone else is looking to collect,” I said flatly.
Maya whistled. “Talk about bad luck.”
I looked at her. “If that’s true, then whoever killed him wasn’t in it to get out of their debt.”
“Or they didn’t know that someone else would come after them,” said Maya.
“Wait,” said Evan. “Bentley Barber was murdered?”
“If you killed him, then you’d already know that,” I said.
Evan fiddled with a pile of cereal he had spread out on a napkin. Popping some into his mouth, he said, “I thought you said I couldn’t have done it.”
“Maybe, but I said that you could be dumb enough to not think of contingency plans. Are you dumb?” asked Maya.
“What?” Evan was outraged. “Look, if you’re here to ask me stupid questions, then I’m out of here.”
He got up and angrily shoved his chair in. It shook the table, sending the cereal flying.
I cringed. “You didn’t have to make a mess.”
Evan absentmindedly scooped up some of the fallen cereal. He wore a simple rope bracelet on one hand and a watch on the other. It looked like Evan’s clumsiness was something to be worked on, judging by the paint stains on the bottom of his watch strap.
“You’re talking to the wrong person. If I were you, I’d be asking Natasha these questions, not me,” said Evan.
“Natasha, my employee?” asked Maya.
“Oh, you run this place? Is the bathrobe to bridge the gap between management and the customer?”
I intervened before Maya could retort. “Why should we be talking to Natasha?”
“She knew Bentley,” said Evan. “Maybe she could give you some answers. She knew him better than I did. I don’t know anything and I’m going to bed.”
He left before I could protest.
Maya tore off her robe and pressed it into my hands. “That’s the last time I’m taking your advice. He wouldn’t have thought twice about my clothes if I wasn’t wearing this.”
I tilted my head. “The last
time? I don’t know. I give pretty good advice.”
“Speaking of advice, Evan needs some,” said Maya. “He’s carrying rope and he’s hurt. That lines up with how Bentley died.”
“I agree,” I said. “But we need to talk to Natasha. Hopefully she can make more sense of it.”
Unfortunately, by the time we returned to the front desk, Natasha’s shift had ended.
I yawned and pulled on the robe. “We’ll have to talk to her tomorrow then.”
Maya tapped her foot. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You wanted one of my nice, fluffy robes for yourself.”
“That’s right!” I called out as I left the hotel before Maya could yank the bathrobe off me.
A breeze floated past me as I stepped into the brisk night air. I actually hadn’t planned on stealing the robe. It had occurred to me when Maya plopped it into my arms—I knew that if I walked out of Sandy Turtle with it, Maya wouldn’t stop me.
As long as I had a decent head start.
That made me think of Bentley Barber’s mysterious killer. Whoever the person was, they had a head start. But would it be enough?
And was Bentley’s death planned? Or was it the result of a spontaneous decision, like me stealing the robe?
I shivered. The cold air bit my cheeks.
Good thing I had a robe to keep me warm.
CHAPTER FOUR
I woke up some hours later to my next door neighbor’s regular noon workout session. Or, to be more accurate, Colton was lazily lifting water jugs as he fixed himself lunch before plopping in front of the television until he went back to work.
On the other side of my tiny studio apartment, my other neighbor had forgotten to turn off her ambient sound effects again. It was peaceful listening to rain and waterfalls, until a shrieking bird made its appearance.
Yawning, I rolled out of bed and put on the first clothes I saw—a simple white t-shirt and jeans. I pulled my phone out of a bag of dry rice and tested it out. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when the display screen popped up.
Having a waterlogged phone would have been the last thing I needed.
As I made myself eggs and rice on my hotplate and rice cooker, I heard a knock on the door.
Murder and a Blue Hawaii Page 2
