Murder and a Blue Hawaii

by Elizabeth Autumn

  “An act?!” Sophia was outraged. “I can assure you that this is no act.”

  I touched my chin with my finger. “Or maybe—just maybe—this is stress from being in debt to Micah. You’re falling apart because you know you can’t get him his payment in time and you’re terrified that your mother will come after you next.”

  “Of course I’m scared of that! Why else would I have you find her?”

  “It could be both, I suppose.” I inspected my clean fingernails. “But I don’t think so. I think that acting like you’re in mourning is a convenient cover. It makes you look innocent.”

  “It’s not an act!” Sophia exclaimed.

  I looked Sophia straight in her eyes. “You killed Bentley. You owed him money and knew you couldn’t pay it off. You probably didn’t mean to do it, but in the heat of the moment—and with years of resentment—you snapped. You killed your brother.”

  “Resentment, huh? That’s why I ‘killed’ him?”

  “You said it yourself. You’re the respectable one,” I said. “That’s great for the rest of society, but your mother doesn’t value respectability. She liked your brother more because he took after her—and you resented that.”

  “You’ve got it wrong,” said Sophia quietly. “My mother doesn’t value respectability for herself. But for her kids? She didn’t want our lives to be like hers. She wants us to be stand-up citizens. She was so disappointed when Bentley turned out just like her.”

  “Then why did you kill Bentley?” I asked.

  Sophia folded her hands together. “You’re wasting your question if that’s what you want to ask me.”

  “Why?” I repeated.

  “All right. It’s your loss. You could have known anything about anyone and now you’re going to end up disappointed.” Sophia got a steely look in her gaze. “I don’t lie when fulfilling a promise. I told you I’d answer your question and this is the honest truth—no matter how much you won’t want to hear it. I didn’t kill Bentley.”

  “Prove it,” I said.

  I was counting on catching Sophia by surprise so that she wouldn’t have time to come up with a cover story or fake alibi. She could have already had those in place, but her sincere shock told me otherwise. She wasn’t expecting me to still be asking her questions pertaining to her brother’s murder.

  “I was giving discounted haircuts to anyone dressed as a pirate,” said Sophia. “I was hanging around Sandy Turtle and offering haircuts on the spot. I didn’t tell you right away because Maya’s caught me doing that before and threatened to go after me for solicitation.”

  Sophia rubbed her forehead wearily. “I’ve got a steady client base, but this debt is overwhelming. I had to try anything I could. You understand that, right?”

  I reluctantly agreed. “I do.”

  And, with that, I crossed Sophia off my suspect list. Of course, I would check her story out, but I trusted that it would. The bigger question was who killed Bentley?

  Micah still hadn’t been found. That didn’t bode well for him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After talking with Sophia, I realized that I needed to rethink everything I knew about the case. Maya met me at Blue Hawaii and we decided to take a stroll on the beach. Maybe being closer to where I found the body would help us think better.

  Maya and I went over the suspects, trying to think of anything that we might have missed as we trailed along the water’s edge.

  I was holding my sandals in my hands as my bare feet embraced the cool water and wet sand. I rubbed my forehead, feeling sand fall out of my shoes and all over me. “What was it that Micah’s neighbor said? I should have been paying more attention.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Maya.

  I brushed the sand off of me. “It was about his sons—one of them was a guitarist. Micah was friendly with his neighbors. He’d have access to guitar strings. What if he killed Bentley with a string?”

  “That fits the wire description,” said Maya. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re right. That’s an astute observation, especially with Micah’s disappearance. Why else would he drop out of sight? He’s looking incredibly guilty.”

  Maya was convinced, but I needed more proof. Micah may have dropped off the face of the Earth, but Bentley hadn’t. Or, more accurately, his house hadn’t.

  We’d already investigated Micah’s place. What if there were clues hidden in Bentley’s house?

  Bentley knew his killer—or, at least, trusted them enough to allow the killer to get physically close to him. The killer needed to be nose-to-nose with Bentley in order to strangle him.

  Who did Bentley trust?

  My guess was not many people. It was more likely that the killer was someone he knew. Someone he had done business with before or someone he wouldn’t expect to murder him.

  “Who would Bentley interact with on a daily basis?” I asked.

  “Business associates, clients, cashiers, or random strangers passing by,” Maya immediately listed off.

  “A random stranger wouldn’t have notice to kill him. Neither would a cashier, etc. They might be able to get close to him, but they wouldn’t have a reason to want him dead. The killer has to be someone he knows,” I said.

  “Which brings us back to Micah Robinson,” said Maya.

  “Exactly. If we can get Sophia to let us inside her brother’s house, then we might be able to find evidence of Micah’s intent to kill,” I said.

  Maya grimaced. “I’d love to help out, but I’ve got some things to take care of at Sandy Turtle. Are you willing to wait a day?”

  I debated. I would appreciate having a second pair of eyes with me to catch anything I might miss. Waiting a day, however, was risky. Micah could get further away in that time. I couldn’t take the chance.

  Maya saw the answer on my face. “Let me know how it goes. I’ll see you later on,” she said, leaving to go to work.

  I walked with her back to the hotel and, after saying goodbye, I noticed someone leaving Sandy Turtle. It was Natasha Silva, which was normal enough. She worked there as well. She had every right to be there.

  But something about her made me stop in my tracks. Natasha’s puckered face and worried expression could have meant anything. But she kept glancing behind her, like she was being followed.

  I had to find out what was going on.

  I couldn’t be sure if anyone was trailing her before—I didn’t see anyone—but there definitely was now. I followed Natasha through the crowded streets of Waikiki, hoping she wasn’t going on a long trip. I desperately needed gas in my truck. I was basically on empty.

  Fortunately, she soon parked. I found a space at a meter far away enough that she wouldn’t notice me. Before I got out of my truck, Natasha went to a side entrance of a building with peeling paint. She went through a nondescript door and my jaw dropped.

  We were at Golden Hibiscus. What was Natasha doing here? This wasn’t exactly her scene—right? What if she was in this deeper than I had thought?

  I needed answers and I knew who could help.

  I went home, conveniently finding Colton outside his apartment. He was sitting on his kitchen table chair in front of his door, wearing a pair of familiar sunglasses. They looked small—but surprisingly stylish—above his thick neck. Colton was halfway through eating a Spam sandwich.

  I blinked. “Those are mine! Where did you find them?”

  I was astounded that they had shown up. I thought I’d lost them forever.

  “They were on your doormat,” he said, handing them to me. “Did they fall off your head?”

  I tapped my head. “Is that how I lost them?”

  “I suppose.” Colton took a large bite of his sandwich. “Oh, no. You’re not moving. Why aren’t you going into your apartment?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

  “Why was Natasha Silva at Golden Hibiscus?” I asked.

  Colton swallowed his bite. “What’s it to you? You know, I’m just here to enjoy the day. I wasn’t
asking for company.”

  “It’s a simple question,” I said. “You don’t deny knowing her, then?”

  “Ask her yourself. Go to Golden Hibiscus and get all your answers. It’s not my place to divulge secrets.”

  Great. I was wedged between two secret-keeping neighbors, both of whom would only release information if it suited them.

  “People notice newcomers there,” I said. “If I started asking questions, people wouldn’t trust me.”

  Colton set down his sandwich. “I can’t go around giving away people’s secrets. You’re a bartender. You know the code we follow. You keep what you see private and let people be. There’s not much I can do for you.”

  “You sound like Sophia,” I muttered. “My bar sees the sun every single day—unless the skies are gray. Golden Hibiscus is so closed off that I don’t think it’s ever seen sunlight. Is that why the people are so shady there?”

  “Yes,” said Colton with a straight face.

  I folded my arms.

  Colton sighed, brushing off the crumbs of his finished meal. “Natasha’s a bartender at Golden Hibiscus. She takes her privacy seriously, so I don’t know if she wants people knowing everything she does. She’s super cautious. Look, the customers might not be the most law-abiding citizens, but the staff is all right. We’re the respectable ones.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You had to have spent a lot of time around Bentley. Did you and him get along?”

  Colton let out a low chuckle. “No, you’re not going to implicate me in his death. I had nothing to do with it. Bentley was a good tipper and was always ready for a friendly chat. He may have been horrible to some people, but to me? He was just fine.”

  “You’d be the first,” I muttered.

  “It helped that I didn’t owe him money,” Colton said pointedly. “I’m not stupid.”

  No, he wasn’t.

  But, what if Bentley had been? What if he had evidence at his place that could lead to his killer? Maybe Bentley had gotten himself into a sticky situation that he couldn’t get out of. Even loan sharks could get in over their heads.

  “Do you know where Bentley lived?” I asked.

  Colton shook his head. “I bet I know who does…”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” I glanced at Sophia’s door. Her lights were off.

  “She just left to get some groceries. Sophia’ll probably be back soon,” said Colton.

  “Wonderful,” I muttered.

  I took the opportunity to swing by a gas station while I waited for Sophia to come home. After filling my tank, I went to Sandy Turtle and knocked on the door to Landon’s room.

  Even though Maya was busy with work, I still wanted company on the investigation.

  Just company? Let’s be real. You want to see that gorgeous sandy-hair of his. And the rest of him.

  Landon opened the door and broke into a smile upon seeing my face. “Oh, good. I was getting bored without a corpse or a pirate crew to distract me.”

  “How would you like to visit a dead man’s house?” I asked.

  Landon’s blue eyes widened. It was like I was gazing at a crisp blue sky. I never knew the sky could be so beautiful in the day.

  Snap out of it, Alana! This is serious business. There’s a murderer to find. And his eyes aren’t the sky! They’re just eyes.

  Gorgeous eyes. The kind of eyes you could never grow tired of looking into.

  “I can’t say I ever thought I’d say these words, but yes. I’d love to go visit the house of the corpse we found,” said Landon ruefully.

  “First we’ve got to convince Sophia to let us in,” I said with determination.

  She was going to give me Bentley’s address if I had to die trying.

  Okay, I wasn’t willing to die for that information.

  But there was no way I’d be walking out of there without it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  After convincing Sophia to give up her brother’s address, Landon and I made my way to Bentley Barber’s house. Sophia hadn’t given up the information lightly. I think it was only because she was trying to prove her innocence that she gave me Bentley’s address at all.

  She didn’t give me a key, though. Sophia claimed that there was one hidden on his property and, if I could find it, then I was free to roam his place at will.

  “Sophia said the key is under a leaf,” I told Landon, who had come with me.

  Landon glanced at the numerous plants surrounding Bentley Barber’s house. “Right.”

  Bentley’s house was no dilapidated shack. It wasn’t in a sketchy location. There wasn’t a vacancy notice stuck on his door. It was in a nice neighborhood. His plants were well-cared for. And the house itself? It was large, impressive, and screamed of money.

  Oh, and it was also gated, which made entry onto his property difficult. I didn’t see a Beware of Dog sign anywhere, but he probably had a security alarm that would go off if I tried to jump the gate.

  The curtains were drawn, so I couldn’t see what the interior looked like. No cars were in the driveway and it appeared like no one was home.

  I was disappointed. I wanted a conniving loan shark to be barely making ends meet, not making a comfortable living.

  Much more than comfortable, I thought as I gazed at the neighbor’s expensive cars.

  There were, however, a few things that made Bentley’s house stand apart from the other ones nearby. Each of the houses had a gate that prevented anyone from entering the driveway without a code. Bentley’s gate was more of a fence—tall, menacing, and obviously his own addition.

  There was no way that the steel fence with barbed wire on the top had originally come with the elegant house. There was no code for this fence. There was no button you could press in your car to automatically unlock it at your convenience.

  There was a heavy-duty padlock on the fence that I didn’t think I could pick with a bobby pin. Plus, there were flashy security cameras that made it known that Landon and I were being watched.

  “How did Henry get inside?” Landon mused.

  I knelt down to look at the ground. The fence left a long scrape behind on the pavement—but only one.

  “If this was the regular entrance, there should be more markings,” I said. “Sophia must have given Henry the key to this padlock and gave us directions to the spare key.”

  “Can you really call ‘find the leaf’ directions?” Landon shook his head as he looked around for the mysterious leaf. “This isn’t a crime scene is it?”

  “Bentley was murdered on the beach,” I said. “Maya said that Henry already checked this place out, so we’re good.”

  “But you still brought me instead of Maya?” asked Landon, the corners of his eyes crinkling,

  “You’re not dating the law,” I said wryly. “Plus, Maya had to take care of some things at the hotel.”

  A few houses down, a car pulled into the driveway. If we weren’t going to get into the house, then we could at least ask a neighbor about Bentley.

  Susan, the neighbor who had just arrived home, was more than willing to talk. As we stood in her driveway, I noticed how different Bentley’s house was to the others around it. The fence appeared even more intimidating from further away.

  “Bentley kept to himself,” Susan was saying. “We have neighborhood barbecues in the summer and he came to the first one of the season a couple weeks ago. Bentley brought hamburgers and grilled them up himself. Let me tell you, Bentley’s a strange one, but he can make a mean burger. Could. I keep forgetting Bentley’s gone.”

  “Were you close?” I asked.

  Susan shook her head. “Like I said, he kept to himself. I’ve never seen him drive up after work. Bentley must have kept different hours. If I hadn’t heard that he died, I would never have known. I never saw him at his house. He showed up to the barbecues, but that was it.”

  “You must have seen him fiddling with that padlock,” said Landon. “That would take a minute to unlock.”

  “It must,” Susan ag
reed. “I’ve never seen him do it, though.”

  “Do you know of anyone who would have wanted him dead?” I asked.

  Susan thought. “He must have known someone would eventually, otherwise he wouldn’t have that ugly fence. He seemed paranoid and restless at the barbecues. It was like he was there to watch us and see if we were a threat to him.”

  “That must have put people off,” I said.

  Susan shrugged. “It was weird, but he settled down once the burgers were cooked. We had a good time once he realized we weren’t after him. None of us thought twice about it. With a fence like his, I think we all just assumed he was always looking over his shoulder.”

  “So, you’ve never been inside his house? Did he ever invite anyone over?” asked Landon.

  “No,” said Susan. “Not to my knowledge.”

  I thanked Susan for her time and walked back to Bentley’s house. Landon was growing increasingly perplexed by the situation.

  “How could Bentley get into his house without anyone seeing him? Did he even live here?” asked Landon, scratching his head.

  I snapped my fingers. “A back entrance. There must be another way in. He put up the big, imposing fence to discourage casual visitors. Think about it. If you’re a loan shark who easily makes enemies, you’d want to have strong security measures in place.”

  “And Bentley didn’t want to simply invest in a security system and be done with it?” asked Landon.

  “No way,” I said as we walked to the end of the street. “He doesn’t trust others. Bentley would take matters into his own hands. Look! There’s a road.”

  Behind the houses was an unpaved road that didn’t look like much of anything—except for the tire tracks.

  We followed the tracks to the back of Bentley’s house, where we found another fence. Or, to be more precise, we found the gate that should have been at the front of the house.

  “This is it,” I said.

  Landon was staring at the tree that sat next to the gate. “I found the leaf.”

  “The leaf we’re looking for can’t possibly be…” I trailed off as I saw what Landon was gesturing towards. Next to all the real leaves in the tree, there was an ornament leaf dangling from a low-hanging branch. The ornament blended in remarkably well and, if Landon hadn’t spotted it, I wasn’t sure that I would have found it.