Burned

by Carol Higgins Clark

  To Regan she immediately seemed like a phony.

  “I just love to party,” she exclaimed, tossing back her mane of long dirty blond hair. “But it’s so cool having this house in the wilderness to yourself. I love to sit up there and reread the classics.”

  “I’m sorry,” Regan said. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Jasmine.”

  Of course, Regan thought. She didn’t expect it to be a run-of-the-mill kind of name. Inwardly, Regan smiled, remembering her Catholic grammar school where most students had been named after saints. Regan hadn’t even met people with unusual names until she got to college. “How did you get the job?” Regan asked Jasmine.

  “I was a corporate lawyer in New York City and couldn’t stand all the pressure. So I came to Hawaii for a vacation and met my boss. When I complained about my work, he offered me the job. At first I was like, I can’t do that, then I said, Oh, yes, I can. I’ve met so many wonderful and interesting people. It can be a little bit lonelier over on the Big Island. It’s so vast, and there aren’t as many people. But I come over to Oahu all the time. Steve is such a doll. He lets me stay in his guest room whenever I want.”

  Regan could see Kit’s face out of the corner of her eye. Her look was less than thrilled.

  “I met Jazzy when I first got here,” Steve chimed in quickly. “She’s great for introducing people around. She’s been a real friend.”

  One of those, Regan thought. Nothing more annoying for a woman interested in a guy than the girl who is his really good pal.

  “Jazzy” threw her head back and laughed appreciatively as she curled her tanned legs under her. “Before you know it, Steve, you’ll know everyone in this town…”

  Regan didn’t dare look at Kit.

  “…because the thing is it becomes a small town very fast. Almost everyone in Hawaii lives on Oahu. They call it ‘the gathering place,’ and let me tell you, it certainly is. It’s getting more and more exciting all the time. And after you’re here for a while, you hear all the gossip. You just can’t help it.” She laughed again and winked at Steve. “My boss actually wants to buy a house in this area. I tell you, I would love that!”

  What about rereading the classics? Regan wondered. “Jasmine,” she began. She just couldn’t bring herself to call her Jazzy. “Did you know the woman who drowned today at the Waikiki Waters Resort, Dorinda Dawes? She was writing a newsletter for the hotel.”

  The former corporate lawyer wrinkled her button nose at Regan. Jazzy was petite, tanned, attractive, wore little makeup, and looked as if she could pick up a tennis racket or swim twenty laps at any moment. The type who was born for country club living. “Who didn’t know Dorinda Dawes? She butted into everyone’s business and got on a lot of people’s nerves.”

  And may she rest in peace, Regan thought. “Really? How so?”

  “The newsletter wasn’t so bad because the hotel had to approve it. But in the last issue that covered all the Christmas parties, she printed the worst possible pictures of the women. And she was planning to produce her own gossip sheet called ‘Oh! Oh! Oahu!’ Everyone was bracing for that. Word got out that Will, the hotel manager, rejected the first newsletter she wrote. And he edited all the others. She was saving those ‘edits’ for her gossip sheet. People were afraid that she’d make them look like jerks. But she managed to get into parties all over town. She wanted to become the queen of gossip in Hawaii. Now she’s the subject of gossip herself. What was she doing with Liliuokalani’s royal lei? Did you hear it matches the one that’s being auctioned off at the ‘Be a Princess’ Ball? The one that belonged to poor Princess Kaiulani?”

  “Yes. Kit told me,” Regan answered.

  “I’m putting together the gift bags for the ball. No one on the committee can believe that she was here three months and managed to get her hands on that stolen lei. Only Dorinda. I tell you, she worked fast. She was out to make a name for herself one way or another. I think she was getting desperate. She’d been trying for years.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I met her several times in New York City.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. Dorinda was on the scene there for a long time. She had a lot of different jobs and then started a gossipy newsletter on the Internet. But it didn’t fly. Then she got a job as a columnist at an Upper East Side newspaper that folded. Last summer she read an ad placed by a woman in Hawaii who needed an apartment in New York for six months. So they traded places. Dorinda wanted to settle here. The few times I talked to her, I got the feeling she thought it was her last shot at making a name for herself. Not that she came out and said that. But I’ve got to give her credit. She managed to get a job at the Waikiki Waters quickly. It didn’t pay much, but it didn’t take up too much of her time and it gave her access to a lot of people and parties.”

  Kit put her glass down. “Dorinda was having a swell time the other night when we saw her at the Towers bar. I think what she loved having access to was the men. And I think she’d had a few drinks.”

  “She enjoyed her wine,” Jazzy sniffed, “which could be why she drowned.”

  “Can I refresh anyone’s drink?” Steve asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

  “Mine!” Jazzy said. “Add lots of club soda! Hurry! You don’t want to miss the sunset!”

  Regan took a sip of her drink. It seemed that wherever one went, it turned into Peyton Place pretty quickly. Gossip mills are everywhere. So are people like Jazzy. There’s no escaping them.

  Steve’s two male friends, Paul and Mark, walked back inside to grab a couple more beers. They seemed like nice guys, Regan thought. So did Steve. Whether he was a good prospect for Kit was another story, and she didn’t have much time to find out.

  Together they watched the sunset, oohing and aahing as the colors changed in the sky. Everyone was telling Steve how lucky he was to live in such a glorious spot. When the last bit of the blazing red and orange constellation slipped under the horizon, the painter and his dollmaker wife stood. “Thanks, Steve,” he said. “We’re on our way. Tomorrow we’re getting up early and flying to Maui for a crafts fair. Hopefully we’ll have a good day selling our paintings and dolls.” She was a native Hawaiian, and he called himself an aging hippie who came to Hawaii twenty-five years ago to find himself. He wore his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail while her black shiny hair cascaded down her back.

  The remaining six piled into Steve’s car and headed into town to Duke’s Restaurant and Barefoot Bar, the restaurant named in honor of Duke Kahanamoku, Hawaii’s most famous citizen and the “father of international surfing.” Duke won worldwide fame as a swimmer, appeared in over twenty-eight Hollywood movies, and in later life became Hawaii’s ambassador of goodwill and aloha. Decades after his death he was still considered the greatest athlete in the history of the Hawaiian Islands. He had never seen snow and was quoted as saying, “I am only happy when I am swimming like a fish.” A large statue of Duke, his arms outstretched as if he were saying, “Aloha,” stands on Waikiki Beach. Every day dozens of leis are placed around his neck by adoring tourists. Steve had pointed out the flower-covered statue as they drove to his house.

  The bar was packed, but they managed to get a table in the open air. Jasmine seemed to know more than her fair share of people, which didn’t surprise Regan in the least. A woman at the bar stopped Steve, put her hand on his arm, and started talking to him. To Regan he looked annoyed and seemed impatient with her. He quickly broke free and sat down with the group, and they ordered drinks and burgers. Regan was feeling pretty tired. It was Thursday night, a little after nine, which meant it was eleven in Los Angeles and two in the morning in New York. A television over the bar showed a clip of the snowstorm in the East. I’ll be there with Jack next week, Regan thought longingly. She was glad that Kit looked happy but wasn’t really thrilled at the prospect of spending all weekend with this group. And somehow she figured it was going to turn out that way. There was talk of a dinner par
ty tomorrow night at Steve’s house. I’m sure “dinner party” is a pretty loose term with him, she thought.

  Regan glanced over at Paul and Mark who were blatantly checking out the babes at the bar. I guess I shouldn’t feel insulted, she mused. This ring on my finger doesn’t exactly go unnoticed. Jasmine was leaning over and talking to people at the next table, and Steve was whispering something in Kit’s ear.

  With all the noise it took a few minutes for Regan to realize that her cell phone was ringing. Regan fumbled in her purse for it. Who would be calling me at this hour? she thought nervously. Everyone at home should be asleep.

  “Hello,” she answered when she finally retrieved it.

  “Regan?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Jack’s friend Mike Darnell. I’m a detective with the Honolulu Police Department. He asked me to give you a call.”

  “Oh, hi, Mike,” Regan said with a smile. “That’s nice of you.”

  “I’ve been working late, but I was thinking of heading over to a place called Duke’s. I thought you and your friend might like to meet me there.”

  “I’m at Duke’s now.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Would I kid you?”

  “I don’t know. If you’re engaged to Jack Reilly, you’re capable of anything.”

  Regan laughed. “We’re with a group of people. Come join us. We’re to the left of the bar on the outside. There are six of us, but there could be more by the time you get here.”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Regan hung up the phone as Jasmine inquired, “Who was that?”

  “A friend of my fiancé’s who’s a detective in the Honolulu Police Department. He’s coming by for a drink.”

  “Oh,” she said dismissively.

  Am I imagining things, Regan wondered, or does Jazzy look nervous?

  9

  N ora Regan Reilly woke with a start. The wind was howling outside, and she heard a thump against the side of the house. The clock on the nightstand glowed 2:15. Beside her, Luke was sleeping peacefully. He can sleep through anything, Nora thought with a slight smile.

  Thump. Thump.

  Nora got up and reached for the bathrobe she kept on the satin-covered bench at the foot of the bed. She and Luke liked to keep their bedroom cold, and on this night that was no challenge. She wrapped the robe around her, walked to the big picture window, and pulled aside the curtain. She was just in time to see a huge branch from one of the trees in their backyard snap off and go crashing to the ground. Chunks of icy snow broke apart as they scattered on the sea of white below. That was Regan’s favorite tree when she was a little girl, Nora remembered.

  She could hear Luke’s gentle breathing across the room. No sense waking him, she thought as she peered out at the yard. There was nothing he could do about it now. And tomorrow will be a tough day. There’s no way they can have a funeral in this weather-the roads are impassable. All those relatives of the elderly skier will be stuck at the hotel, and they’ll be looking to Luke for answers about the storm. As if he can change the weather.

  Nora crept back into bed as the wind whistled outside. I hope things in Hawaii are calmer than they are here, she thought. She lay huddled under the blankets, her thoughts jumping from one topic to the next. She wished Regan was in New York this weekend. It would have been so much fun to go and hear the wedding band with her and Jack and find out for themselves if they were as good as everyone swore they were. Hopefully we’ll do it next weekend, she mused. She tossed and turned a bit and finally fell back asleep.

  Then she started to dream. She dreamed they were at Regan and Jack’s wedding and a band was playing, but they were very loud and out of tune. The music sounded screechy and discordant. Nora kept telling them to stop, but they wouldn’t listen. She was so thankful when she woke and realized it was just a bad dream. The hissing of the wind had incorporated itself into her unconscious as she slept.

  What’s wrong with me? she wondered. Well, for one thing, Regan hadn’t called her when she arrived in Hawaii. She’s a grown-up, Nora reminded herself, and doesn’t have to call home all the time. But she usually checked in when she was traveling. Nora felt jittery, and the fact that the branch snapped off Regan’s favorite tree made her a little sad. Once again Nora slipped out of bed, grabbed her robe, and stuffed her feet into a pair of slippers. Quietly she opened the bedroom door and padded down the hallway.

  Downstairs she turned on the kettle and picked up the phone. It’s not that late in Hawaii, she thought. I’ll give Regan a quick call on her cell phone.

  It was still six of them crowded around the table at Duke’s. When Mike Darnell arrived, Jasmine floated off to talk to a group at the bar. Mike had just ordered a beer when Regan’s cell phone rang again.

  “Mom,” she said with alarm when she heard her mother’s voice. “What are you doing up at this hour? Is everything all right?” Regan covered her free ear with her hand so she could hear over the noise of the crowd.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Nora replied. “And I just wanted to make sure you got there okay. With the weather we’re having, it’s hard to imagine that it’s nice anywhere in the world.”

  “We’re sitting outside a restaurant looking out at the ocean and the palm trees. It’s a beautiful night,” Regan assured her. “A friend of Jack’s just joined us. He’s a detective in the Honolulu Police Department.”

  Somehow that made Nora feel better. Why do I worry so much? she wondered. The kettle started to whistle, a loud shriek that Luke said was designed to wake the dead.

  “Are you making tea?” Regan asked.

  “Decaf.”

  “I can’t believe that kettle can be heard so clearly six thousand miles away.”

  “Dad would say you don’t even need a phone for that.”

  Regan laughed. “Well, we’re fine. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

  “It won’t matter. I’m certainly not going anywhere.”

  “Don’t let Dad shovel the driveway.”

  “I won’t. Greg Driscoll was here today three times with his plow, and he’ll be back in the morning. He probably shouldn’t bother. The snow’s just going to keep piling up.” Nora poured the tea, turned away from the stove, and gasped. “Luke!”

  “Dad’s up?”

  “When I left the bed, he was dead to the world.”

  “You know he can always tell when you’re gone from the bed for more than five minutes.”

  “What are you doing up?” Luke whispered to Nora as he rubbed his eyes.

  “A loud noise woke me up, and then a branch snapped off the big tree in the back,” Nora explained as Regan listened at the other end.

  “The big tree?” Luke and Regan asked at the same time.

  “The big tree,” Nora confirmed.

  “My favorite tree!” Regan noted. “Mom, remember you wrote the story about the tree that hit a house and then the family ran into a string of bad luck?”

  “I forgot about that story. It was so long ago. Thanks a lot for reminding me.”

  “Well, don’t worry. The tree didn’t hit the house. I’ve got to go. This place is so noisy, it’s hard to hear.”

  “Give a call over the weekend.”

  “Okay.”

  Regan hung up and reached for her wineglass. “Sorry, Mike,” she apologized to the tall and attractive man with brown hair and dark skin who was sitting next to her.

  “That was your mom?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, they’re having quite a storm back east.”

  “That’s what Jack told me. By the way, he invited me to your wedding. You’d better be careful. I just might show up.”

  Regan smiled. “We’d love it.”

  “I should tell you that when Jack called me, I happened to mention there was a drowning at your hotel today.”

  Regan grimaced. “Oh, you did?”

  “Yes. He sounded surprised.”

  “
I purposely didn’t tell him,” Regan admitted. “What’s the story on that?”

  “We believe it was an accident.”

  “Really? Why?”

  Mike shrugged. “There are no signs of a struggle on her body. She doesn’t have any known enemies, from what we can gather. Her credit history is good. She didn’t have a lot of money, but she paid her bills. We were told she walked home along the beach and liked to stop and sit on the jetty. They’re doing toxicology tests, but people have said she’d had a couple of drinks. She probably just slipped and fell into the water. Those jetties can get incredibly slippery, and there’s a strong undertow out there.”

  “What about her family?” Regan asked.

  “The only immediate family is a cousin. The hotel had his number, and we were able to reach him. He was naturally upset but said they weren’t close. I guess you heard about the stolen lei around her neck. Our big question is where she got it.”

  “I heard all about it. How was it so quickly identified?”

  “It has a very unusual arrangement of shells and different shades of coral stones that is really distinct. One of the guys who brought the body in today had been to the Seashell Museum last weekend with friends who were visiting from the mainland. He had seen the other royal lei on display and knew that its mate had been stolen. He put two and two together.”

  “What are you going to do with the lei?”

  “We gave it back to the owner of the museum. He’s so happy, he’s out of his mind. They’re auctioning off the matching lei this weekend at the ball at the Waikiki Waters to raise money for the museum.”

  “I heard. I wonder if he’ll have them auction off this one as well.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So the pair of leis are back together again after having been separated for thirty years.”

  “That’s right. They’d been together in the museum for over fifty years, separated for thirty, and now they’re reunited. It’s quite a story.”

  “But Dorinda Dawes arrived in Hawaii only three months ago. Does anyone have any idea where she might have gotten that lei?”