Murder and a Blue Hawaii

by Elizabeth Autumn

  “It’s too soon to tell exactly how it helps,” I said. Seeing her face fall, I quickly added, “The pieces won’t come together until the end. Everything’s murky right now. You helped plenty.”

  “Good,” said Natasha.

  With a relieved feeling, I left the hotel so Natasha could check in the guest that had just arrived.

  I slipped back into Blue Hawaii like nothing happened. I had just been on a break, not interrogating a murder suspect. I winced at that thought. Natasha was such a sweet woman. I couldn’t picture her hurting a fly.

  My steps were light and my mood was lifted after our discussion. Maybe Natasha didn’t kill Bentley, and maybe I had a list of suspects to keep looking into, but I was a little bit closer than I was before. Making progress felt good.

  Seeing Henry didn’t feel as great. I didn’t know what was about to happen.

  With great trepidation, I approached Landon and Henry. Landon was in the middle of a story about a sales pitch gone wrong and Henry was riveted.

  “So, I bring the knife set to the customer. It’s one of a kind, limited edition. It’s an absolutely perfect set of knives, right? I’m sealing the deal and the guy wants to take a look at the set once more. Just to make sure he knows what he’s getting, right?”

  Henry nodded emphatically. “Of course.”

  Landon mimed pulling a knife out of a wooden block. “He takes it out and the tip is stained purple. Now, I have no idea why. They’re not supposed to be.”

  “How could that have happened?” asked Henry.

  “It turns out that my boss was eating blueberries when he was testing the knife set. He had taken it home to see how it would look on his counter because he, himself, was interested in purchasing it. Anyway, he accidently dropped a couple blueberries in the slots.

  “My boss thought that it was a tighter fit than normal when reinserting the knives, but he didn’t think twice about it for some reason. So, when I gave the set to the other guy, the knife tips had mushy blueberry juice stuck to them.”

  Henry whistled. “He must not have appreciated that.”

  “No, he loved it! He said it was one thing to have a collector’s item, but having a great story that came with it was priceless.” Landon shook his head. “It could have been a disaster, but he turned into a customer for life. I thought that would be the craziest, most random thing to happen to me, until I went for a late night stroll on the beach and found a dead body.”

  Henry looked up when I joined them. “And speaking of finding dead bodies! Alana, good seeing you.”

  “Am I going to be happy to see you, as well?” I asked warily.

  “What? Oh, I know you didn’t kill Bentley,” said Henry. “You couldn’t have. The killer strangled Bentley and then tied the noose around his neck to make it look like he tried to kill himself. It’s an odd strategy, if you ask me. The killer should have hung Bentley somewhere instead of tossing him in the ocean.”

  “Maybe the killer ran out of time or was interrupted,” I said. “They had to improvise.”

  Henry nodded. “That’s very likely. Fortunately for us, they left behind their fingerprints when strangling the poor guy. There was DNA of three people found on his body—two were from your daring rescue attempt, and the third is our killer. I’m working on figuring out that third person’s identity now. That’s why I’m at your bar, actually. Micah Robinson usually frequents here, correct?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “He was here earlier, but he stormed off when he got a phone call. He hasn’t been back since.”

  “Okay. I was hoping to have a chat with him.” Henry folded his arms. “Also, we found a bread knife in the sand not far away from where you found the body. I think Bentley was threatened with the knife before his death. It’s tough to tell if there was a struggle. Sand hides tell-tale signs. But we’ll figure it out.”

  Maya’s bread knife. She must have seen it and forgotten about it in her tired state. That’s why she was drawing it.

  “It could have been from a pirate costume from a member of the pirate convention,” I said.

  “That’s what I thought at first, but we found DNA on it that matches the mystery person’s.” Henry stood up. “I’ve got to be off now. Let me know if you see Micah, all right?”

  “Will do,” I assured him.

  Henry left and I turned to Landon. “Whoever killed Bentley had serious anger issues and is a first-time killer. The murderer is sloppy.”

  “Like Micah Robinson,” Landon pointed out. “Anger issues and—as far as I know—hasn’t killed anyone before.”

  “Exactly like Micah Robinson,” I said ominously.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Unfortunately, I had no idea where I could find Micah Robinson. It was probably the safer option, considering that he could be a murderer—but this was a crime of passion.

  Okay, passion might not be the best word for it. Hatred? Rage? An uncontrollable desire to enact revenge?

  Whatever the word was, Bentley Barber’s death wasn’t a random act of violence. He was the clear target. But why? Why was Bentley killed?

  Landon was looking at me with an amused expression again.

  I wiped down the bar and met his gaze. “I’m trying to think of why Bentley was murdered.”

  “I figured,” Landon said. “Any theories?”

  I shook my head. “Too many to count. There are a million reasons to want him dead, but which one was enough to follow through on?”

  Landon tapped his chin. “I think someone owed him money and was willing to do whatever it took to get rid of that debt.”

  I thought that too. But, was that all there was to the story? I mean, that was all that was necessary. I could see it happening.

  Something in the back of my mind was bothering me, though.

  “Bentley’s a loan shark,” I said. “He lends money all the time. You would think that he would have had other death threats or attempts on his life before—especially if his death was all about money. What made this one different? Why this time? Why now?”

  “Has he had death threats before?” Landon asked.

  “I have no idea. We have to find out,” I said as rapid footsteps suddenly came toward the bar. I couldn’t really hear them since the sand deafened the newcomer’s steps, but her approaching figure was not hard to miss.

  A woman with dusty brown hair, wide smile, and sword hanging from her waist rushed into Blue Hawaii. She headed straight for me.

  “Hi! You might not remember me, but I came here yesterday looking for a hat.”

  “Madison Walker, the pirate,” I said. “I remember.”

  She gave me a sheepish grin. “Also, do you remember the noose I had around my neck? I seemed to have misplaced it.”

  I pulled out the lost and found box and rummaged through it. There was no noose.

  I glanced at Madison curiously. It was a long shot, but I had to ask. Anyone who was in Waikiki yesterday could have killed Bentley. “Do you know a Bentley Barber?”

  “Who?” asked Madison, blankly.

  “Never mind.” I put the box away. “I don’t have it. Where did you lose it?”

  “I’m not sure,” Madison said vaguely. “It must have been at the party. There were so many people with nooses. Maybe one of them took mine by mistake. Aargh. I need it for my costume. The contest is tonight—if it’s still happening, that is.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Landon.

  “The venue we were originally going to have it at cancelled on us at the last minute. Some people are suggesting hosting it on the beach, but that’ll be difficult to see the costumes when it gets dark,” Madison explained. “It was supposed to be the first event in a series of pirate-themed contests. The winner gets ten thousand dollars.”

  My heart stopped. That amount would cover my debt, easily.

  “Can anyone enter these contests?” I asked, as casually as I could.

  Landon gave me a sideways glance.

  “Yeah. An
yone can join any of the three contests. It’s the same prize money each time. If you win one, though, then you’re disqualified from entering any more contests. We’re trying to keep it fair. That way, if someone’s an incredible pirate, they won’t win all the money automatically.”

  My mind was racing. If I could win one of the contests, then I’d be set.

  “Here,” I blurted out. “You can hold the costume contest here, at Blue Hawaii.”

  Madison pressed her hands together. “Really?”

  I abruptly turned to Kimo. “Are you free tonight?”

  “I was going to look up Micah Robinson and see what he’s been up to lately. Maybe he could recruit me and I’ll be the next great shortstop.”

  “You don’t play baseball and Micah’s not a recruiter,” I pointed out.

  “Recreationally, I do! Sometimes…” Kimo shrugged. “Yeah, I’m free.”

  “Then it’s settled.” I gestured to the tables on the sand. “There’ll be a runway on the sand, illuminated by the bar’s lights.”

  Madison thought for a minute. “That’s perfect. Can we accomplish this in a couple hours?”

  “Absolutely,” I stated, having no idea if we actually could. That wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

  Madison ran off to alert her fellow pirates of the location change and I started thinking of what to do.

  “Alana?” Landon asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Okay, here’s what we can do,” I said immediately. “Kimo, get all the string lights in the back that I’ve been meaning to put up. I have some streamers left over from something and then we can..”

  I trailed off as I quickly planned everything in my head.

  “What can I do?” asked Landon.

  “Sit back, relax, and enjoy the celebration unfolding,” I said. “You’re a guest here.”

  “I’d like to help,” Landon insisted.

  I looked at his sincere face and nodded. “You can arrange the tables around the runway, so everyone has a good view. Are you sure you don’t want to sit back and relax?”

  The lines around Landon’s eyes crinkled. “I’m here on vacation. What else would I want to do other than work?”

  We quickly managed to get everything together. Kimo found the string lights jumbled together and spent thirty minutes untangling them as I dug the streamers out of a forgotten storage bin.

  I tied streamers together, forming two long strands. I used them to make two lines from the bar’s floor to the sand, weighing them down with rocks to keep them in place.

  Once the runway was finished, I threw the remaining streamers haphazardly around the bar, letting them fall on chairs and tables however they pleased.

  This was a decorative mess. It had purpose.

  Then I put together a makeshift costume from clothes I grabbed out of the lost and found box, complete with a pirate hat. The clothes fit nicely, much to my relief. Thankfully the clothing hadn’t belonged to some college kids who skipped adding the Freshmen fifteen weight.

  I could stand to lose a few pounds. Every time I indulged in a slice—or two—of pizza, I’d take a run on the beach. I told myself that made up for the calorie-filled cheesy goodness, but a quick jog doesn’t erase the damage that fast.

  Plus, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally eat more than two slices.

  And, by occasionally, I mean most of the time.

  It was just too good.

  I adjusted my hat. I thought I did pretty well, all things considered. I definitely looked like a pirate. I wasn’t sure it was good enough to win, but it was at least good enough to have a fighting chance.

  I took off my costume, save for the hat, as Madison and her friends arrived. A few were wearing swimsuits and carrying swords, some had on red-and-white striped clothing, and others wore store-bought costumes. I hoped my homemade one would set me apart from the crowd.

  Madison rushed past a woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a name tag that read: Hello! I am a pirate.

  Her face fell when she saw the clothes in my hands. “Oh. I forgot to tell you.” she hesitated. “You can’t enter the contest. It wouldn’t be fair, since you’re hosting it. If you won, it would look like you got preferential treatment.”

  I threw the clothes on the counter. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Madison shrugged. “We took a vote. That was the decision.”

  “Okay,” I said, disappointed.

  I got her point, but still. It was frustrating. I needed that prize money.

  Pull it together, Alana. You’ve got two more chances. This isn’t over yet.

  I ripped my pirate hat off my head as Madison left to get ready. “I thought this had a great shot,” I told Landon.

  He agreed. “It’s way better than most of these lazy costumes. They’re just pirate hats and cutlasses. You’ve got creativity. A real pirate has to have that. They’ve got to be creative in their plundering and pillaging. Plus, they always look so cool.”

  As he spoke, an idea was forming in my head. A smile slowly spread across my face. “I’ve got two more opportunities—I’ll win one of those. But, in the meantime, how would you like to make some quick cash? It would come in handy when you’re moving.”

  Landon frowned. “I don’t know for sure if I’m moving here yet.”

  I brushed that off. “Or for whatever you want.” I pressed the costume into his hands. “Put it on! I don’t want it to go to waste.”

  “It might not fit me,” Landon slowly said. I could see his interest was piqued.

  “It’s a hat and sword. It can’t not fit.”

  “That’s everyone else. This is… much more,” said Landon, staring at the pile of clothes.

  “It’ll work,” I insisted. “Trust me.”

  “I’m not a costume guy.” Landon gestured to one of the pirates. “You see her, with the name tag? That’s what I would dress up as on Halloween—except I would write in ‘human’ on the tag.”

  I rested my hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze. “You can do it,” I said simply.

  Landon met my gaze with curiosity—and I wasn’t talking about interest in the costume. I abruptly lifted my hand and went to fix a streamer that wasn’t awry.

  I went through the motions of fixing the perfectly-in-place streamer as Landon went to change.

  It wasn’t the best move on my part, just up-and-running like that. There was something in Landon’s eyes that made me pause.

  Here was a guy who could be anywhere else. Landon should be taking a surfing lesson or hiking a majestic trail, not helping a local bar owner with her money problems.

  I wasn’t sure why I was pushing away from, not exactly. I just knew that his sincerity was overwhelming. I’d been struggling on my own for so long, trying to make ends meet, that having someone selflessly be there for me was a welcome change.

  Maya and the rest of my friends were always there for me, of course. But I had known them for a long time. Landon was willing to give me a chance after knowing me for hours.

  What was in it for him?

  I’d say that he wanted to catch whoever killed the body we found—which I think was true— but right now? This wasn’t about the case.

  This was for me.

  Or maybe he was just lonely.

  Yeah. That’s it. Landon’s here in the great state of Hawaii, alone with nothing to do. Right.

  My thoughts were interrupted when Landon returned, in full costume.

  I pressed my hands together in appreciation, getting a good look at his outfit. Landon was wearing a black vest that used to fit me in high school, but was too small now. Somehow he had managed to squeeze into it.

  Underneath the vest, he wore a white long-sleeved shirt from the lost and found. It was much too big for him and billowed out in the sleeves. Fishnet tights were stretched over his legs and a red skirt that reached the tips of his fingers finished off the look.

  “Here,” I said, grabbing a few thin black towels.

>   I wrapped them around his legs, securing them with rubber bands. With the sewing kit, I ran a needle and thread through the towels to provide a better fit. The bands kept them up and the thread kept the towels sewn together.

  To my satisfaction, the towels and his black canvas shoes effectively passed as makeshift thigh-high boots.

  Landon admired his outfit in the mirror on the wall. “If I keep hanging around you, I’ll never run out of small talk stories.”

  I laughed. “Small talk stories? No way. These are life experiences!”

  Landon’s gaze was serious, with a touch of amusement. “Something tells me this won’t be the last ‘life experience’ I’ll witness with you.”

  I think I’d have to agree with you on that one, Landon.

  I grinned.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The costume contest was going smoothly. Madison directed her friends to their places and soon enough, everyone was sitting at tables or standing. Kimo and I had our hands filled with drink orders.

  Madison was connecting her phone to a small wireless speaker.

  Landon stood at the end of the line, behind about ten pirates. He unexpectedly appeared to be at ease in the costume that he declared he would never ordinarily adorn.

  The judges’ table comprised of three people wearing black graduation robes and one wearing a bright yellow one. I knew they were graduation robes, not judge robes, because one of them was wearing his college sash as well. I wasn’t sure if the others were from high school or college, but everyone appeared to be in their early twenties.

  I made sure to check everyone’s I.D.’s. If my bar was going to get shut down, it would be because of my money mistakes, not for underage drinking.

  Or for rumors of rats like Sophia had threatened. And, thinking of Sophia, my gaze latched on to a woman with a crooked nose and a parrot on her shoulder, decked out in full pirate gear. She even was wearing a wooden peg leg.

  The parrot shrieked.

  “Sophia Bentley, you liar!” I called out over the parrot’s full-throated scream.

  Sophia turned around, surprised. Her expression settled into wry amusement when she saw me.