“Dewey Smithson. Probably too much of a coincidence that Benton was just checking his credit for work. That’s quite a stretch.”
“I think so too. Tom had a Social Security site online. That’s on one of the photos I sent you. I was in the middle of taking them when I heard him coming in from the backyard. So I ran back out the front door and knocked again as if I’d just arrived.”
“You got away with snooping inside and went back in?”
“I hate to admit it, but I actually heard your voice in my head telling me not to be stupid.”
“But you didn’t listen, as usual.”
“I went there to try to talk Tom into backing off Kiki. She really can’t take much more of this. He’s putting an old woman through hell for no reason.”
“Did you stop to wonder why?”
“Because Marilyn poisoned him against Kiki.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s trying to shift the blame.”
“Shift it to who?”
“Not to someone. Away from someone. What if Benton and Smithson are one and the same?” Roland asked.
Em sat down hard. She stared at the desktop, fiddled with a pen. “Are you serious?”
“I have to keep all possibilities open.”
“But Tom wasn’t even on island when the maid was murdered. And why would he do it?”
“Those are details I have to look into.”
“What do we do now?”
“We don’t do anything. Promise me that you won’t do anything.”
“Will you call me as soon as you know something?”
“I will but only if you promise.”
She hesitated a second too long. “Okay.”
“I wish you sounded like you meant it. I’m not kidding, Em. Stand down.” He fell silent and after a pause added, “For me?”
“For me?” Em closed her eyes. Was she really at the point where he could talk her into doing just about anything for him?
“Okay, I promise.”
37
Sophie’s Suggestion
After balancing the cash drawer, Sophie packed up the money and headed into Louie’s office. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Em alone all day. She found her behind the desk, but Em was on her feet, bending over what appeared to be rows of sheets of papers all neatly laid out. There were some notes on some pages, lists on others. A couple of them only contained a name.
Em looked up. “Do you need me?”
Sophie shook her head no. “All closed up nice and tight.”
Sophie indicated the cash box and set it on the corner of Louie’s old file cabinet.
Em nodded absently. “Thanks. I’ll take it to the house when I go over.”
“It was manageable out there tonight, eh? Word is out that the Trouble in Paradise crew is pretty much gone for good. People aren’t as willing to come out on a rainy night if they’re not going to be on camera. Still, we had a good night. Lots of locals are coming back.”
“That’s good.” Em had crossed her arms and was looking down at the desk.
“Tiko’s a quick learner and a natural with people. I think she’s really going to work out.”
“She’s used to handling the pressure of serving long lines at her smoothie booth at festivals,” Em said.
“But do you think she can handle working with Buzzy?” Sophie noticed that got Em’s attention. “He’s been trailing after Tiko with goo-goo eyes for two days.”
“So he’s completely over dolphin fever?”
“I overheard him ask Tiko if she’d like to go snorkeling with him sometime,” Sophie said.
“I hope he won’t take her out to snorkel Makua. That’s where his ex-fiancée lives.”
“Maybe we should give Tiko a word of warning,” Em said. “I know I’d hate to have a jealous dolphin come after me.”
“I heard Tiko tell him that she’s really busy with two jobs right now. She left it open though.”
They laughed and then Sophie said, “What’s up with all this?”
She stepped around to Em’s side of the desk, took a closer look at the papers. “Uh, oh.”
From this angle she could see the pages were organized into a huge moveable chart. There was nothing new in Em making lists. Before the reality show aired, when business was shaky, Em started making lists of goals and objectives for the bar. When the lists were done, she’d hold a meeting with Louie and Sophie.
Sophie didn’t like what she was looking at right now. These were no ordinary lists.
Em was one of the few people Sophie truly cared about in her life, and as she scanned the carefully made notes and sheets that contained but a name or two, Sophie’s protective instincts kicked in.
She had virtually raised herself on the streets of Honolulu. Troubles between her and her bad seed former boyfriend were how she’d ended up moving from Oahu to Kauai. She was a girl-on-the-run without references or any experience she could name when she asked for a job, yet Em had been willing to take a chance and hired her.
Since that day, Sophie knew she would walk through hot coals for Em, but she hoped it never came to that.
In her mid-thirties, Em was older than Sophie by ten years, but from things Em had told her, the recent divorce was the only terrible thing that had ever happened to her. Though her husband had played her for a fool, Em still tended to see the world through rose colored glasses.
“What’s up with all these?” Sophie indicated the pages with a wave of her hand. “It looks like information about the murders.”
“I was just messing around.” Em stood beside her and stared down at the desk.
“You aren’t one to waste time messing around. I saw the look on your face when you came in earlier today. Is this about Kiki? Is there some proof against her now? Is that really why she ran?”
The indecision on Em’s face was easy to read.
“Em, you can trust me,” Sophie said.
“I know. It’s just that Roland asked me to keep some of this confidential. He’s working on a lot of threads, trying to wili them together.”
“Did he ask for your help?” Sophie asked.
They had started out on rocky ground, but Sophie was finally on better footing where Roland was concerned. He’d been suspicious of her once because of her past history on Oahu, but they had come to a truce because of Em. She was sure Roland wouldn’t put Em in danger, but that didn’t mean Em might not wander into it on her own.
“Not really.” Em chewed her lip for a second. “But I stumbled onto something odd this morning.” She pointed to some grainy print outs of credit cards spread out on a table. “I saw these credit cards when I stopped by Marilyn’s place to talk to Tom Benton this morning.”
Sophie leaned closer. “Credit cards. Other people’s?”
Em shrugged. “Looks like it. Tom works for some kind of credit rating company or something like that, so at first glance it didn’t seem suspicious.”
“But . . .”
“One of the suspects, or at the very least a possible witness in the murder of the HBR maid, is a birdwatcher named Dewey Smithson.” Em leaned down and pointed to a photo. “That card has his name on it.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. Yikes. No one has seen the man since the day of the murder when he checked out of HBR.”
“So what is Benton doing with the guy’s credit card?” Sophie wondered.
“At first I thought maybe Tom’s private detective had found Smithson.”
“But how would they get his credit card?”
“Good point. And shouldn’t they tell the police they found Smithson? The KPD has been looking for him.” Em paused, then looked up at Sophie. “I’ve been thinking, what if there is no Smithson?”
“What do you
mean?”
“Roland thinks maybe Smithson and Tom Benton could be one and the same,” Em said.
“But let’s say Benton was posing as some guy named Smithson. Why? And why would Marilyn’s nephew kill a maid?”
Em shook her head. “He couldn’t have. He was in India until a few days ago,” Em reminded her.
“For sure?”
“He emailed Marilyn a photo of himself at the Taj Mahal right before the wedding.”
“Give me ten minutes on a computer with Photoshop, and I’ll email you a photo of me at the Taj Mahal.” Sophie ran her fingers through her spiked hair.
“You mean he faked it?”
“I mean he could have. Do you have a photo of him? Does Louie?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why?”
“Someone could take it out to HBR and ask around, see if anyone on the staff recognizes him.”
“They’ll recognize him if he’s already been out there asking questions and trying to find Marilyn’s killer.”
“He wants to pin this on Kiki, so maybe he’s not even looking.”
“Maybe,” Em said, “he only wants to pin this on Kiki . . .”
“To take the heat off of himself.”
A chill went down Sophie’s spine. She pictured Tom Benton yelling at Kiki in the bar the other day. He’d reminded her of a temperamental dough boy.
She and Em jumped when Kimo knocked on the doorframe.
“I’m all done,” he said. “Ready to go.”
Sophie noticed Em was staring at Kimo with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.
“Thanks,” Em finally managed. “See you in the morning.”
Kimo ducked out. They waited until they heard the back door in the kitchen close.
“I forgot he was still here,” Em said.
“Me, too.” Sophie glanced toward the window as Kimo drove by. “Do you think he heard us?”
“I don’t know. Right now it’s all just speculation stemming from what I found when I walked into Marilyn’s house looking for Tom. I’m not sure that would hold up in court.” Em started stacking up all the pages she’d laid out, carefully keeping them in order. “Right now, I’m not really sure of anything.”
38
Kimo Reports
Clouds that hung halfway down the mountain in the distance beyond Kiki’s bedroom window spread a soft misty drizzle of rain. Drops dripped slowly off the eaves of the house, hitting wide banana leaves. Each and every plunk was like a steady stream of Chinese water torture.
It was a little after dawn. Still in bed, Kiki groaned and pulled the covers over her head. Hiding out at home had been next to impossible because it was boring as hell. The only thing that had kept her from bolting so far was that emails and inquiries were pouring into Kiki’s Kreative Events. Now that Marilyn Lockhart was out of the picture, Kiki had an exclusive hold on the North Shore, at least until some other upstart tried to move in on her territory.
Just last night someone had emailed about booking a wedding on the Jurassic Park helicopter landing pad at the bottom of a waterfall. The bride and groom wanted to wear Indiana Jones costumes complete with whips and pith helmets and, if possible, they wanted a sound system blaring the trumpeting sound of a T-Rex along with the movie soundtrack.
It would be a pricy event that included their wish list as well as booking the Movie Tours vans for the guests and a helicopter to fly the wedding couple to the landing pad.
The challenge should have perked her up, but it only depressed her more. She wasn’t as good at making deals on the phone as she was in person, and she needed to go to the helicopter tour office to finalize the details.
She was trying to think up a disguise she could wear if she snuck out when she heard the bedroom door open.
“Time to wake up, Kiki. Have I got a treat for you,” Kimo said.
Kiki groaned. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Not in the mood for macadamia nut waffles with sliced bananas and papaya and coconut syrup?”
“I’m too depressed to eat.” Her stomach growled in protest.
“Come on. You need something in your stomach. When was the last time you ate?”
“I had a stuffed baked potato last night. I think it was last night.” She rolled over and pulled the bed sheet down so she could peek over the edge. “That smells good.”
“Sit up. It is good.”
Kiki squirmed her way up the bed and leaned against the headboard. Kimo was holding a bed tray with a plateful of waffles, a small crystal vase with an anthurium and a sprig of fern, and hot coffee and a glass of champagne.
“Well,” she shrugged, patting her lap, “maybe I’ll have a little.”
Kimo carefully situated the tray across her and stepped back. Kiki dug into the waffles and closed her eyes.
“Perfect. Mahalo, honey.”
He didn’t walk out as she expected.
“What?” Kiki took another bite.
“Last night I overheard something that might be important.”
“Like what?” She plucked up a banana slice with her fingers and popped it in her mouth.
“Em and Sophie were talking in Louie’s office. I didn’t catch all of what they were saying, but they were talking about Tom Benton.”
Kiki felt her arteries clench. “Please, I’m eating.”
“I think it was something you should know.”
“So talk.” She put down her fork and picked up her coffee.
“The gist of it was about Tom posing as someone else. They were trying to figure out when exactly he arrived on Kauai. Sophie said it would be easy to fake photos of himself in India and email them to Marilyn.”
“If he wasn’t in India, where was he?”
Kimo shrugged. “Sounded like they are thinking he might have been here.”
“Then why wasn’t he at the wedding?”
“Good question. And why would he pretend to be somewhere else?” He was waiting for her to say something.
“Okay, I give. Why would he?”
“I heard Em say she thinks he’s trying to take the heat off of himself by pinning Marilyn’s murder on you.”
“Em said that?” She quickly shoveled down more food and pointed at her purse on a chair across the room, snapped her fingers when he didn’t move and pointed at it again.
Kimo retrieved her purse. He handed it over, and Kiki started digging for her cell phone.
“You’d better head into work,” she told him. “We don’t want anything to look suspicious. Do not tell Em that you told me what you heard.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m getting out of this house, and I’m getting to the bottom of this once and for all. I’m not taking the fall for this guy. Not by a long shot. Now go.”
He went. She tossed her purse aside and dialed Suzi, but the realtor’s voicemail came on, so she dialed Trish.
“Trish? It’s Kiki,” she said when Trish picked up.
“Kiki! Are you still up in Kokee?”
“No. I’m home. Long story, but right now I need your help. I need you to round up as many of the girls as you can. We’re going on a covert mission.”
“Today?”
“As soon as we can gather.”
“The weather’s pretty junk.”
“Trish, it’s life and death. Forget the weather.”
“Okay, then. You want me to round up the Maidens. Got it.”
“Do you have paper and a pencil? They’ll need to dress appropriately.”
“Uh, oh. Hang on.” Kiki heard Trish rustling around and then she was back. “Go ahead. I’m ready.”
Kiki thought for a minute. “We’re going on a stakeout at Princeville. The good news is th
e weather’s junk, as you said, so there won’t be a whole lot of golfers out today. Not many tourists anyway. Have the girls gear up in green. That way they’ll help blend into the landscape. Do we have any green costumes so we can all dress the same?”
“You want them to do a stakeout in green muumuus?”
“We don’t have green muumuus.” Kiki snapped her fingers. “Ah! We do have those green harem pants we performed in at the Lion’s Club Arabian Nights Dinner Dance a couple of years ago.”
“Green harem pants. Got it,” Trish said.
“Green on top. Hoodies if they have them.”
“Kind of warm for hoodies today.”
“No hoodies then.” Kiki couldn’t bear hearing them all whine about how hot and sweaty they were. “So let’s go with ferns pinned on their heads.”
“Got it. We all have to dress alike because why?”
“If anyone asks what we’re doing prowling around up there, we can say we’re on the way to a performance.”
“What will we really be doing?”
“You’re all on a need to know basis. Right now all you need to know is that we’re rendezvousing at the Sunrise Loop Rec Room parking lot at Princeville in two hours. Make sure Big Estelle comes, no excuses. We need her van. Tell Pat to drop whatever she’s doing.” Kiki lifted the bed tray off of her lap and set it on the floor.
“Got it. Big Estelle with the van. Pat must be there. Everyone meet in two hours at the Sunrise Loop Rec Room parking lot in Princeville. Anything else?”
“Bring your camera,” Kiki said.
“I never leave home without it.”
39
Rendezvous Point: Sunrise Loop Rec Room Parking Lot 0:900
Kiki thought she’d be the first one there, but when she arrived at the parking lot, Big Estelle’s van was already parked at the end of the lot behind a tall shrub that almost hid it from the golf course view. The minute Kiki pulled in and parked, the van door slid open, and Big Estelle waved Kiki inside.
Three to Get Lei'd Page 23
