Dying for a Daiquiri (20 page)

“Hey, just because we found Keiki’s photo here doesn’t prove anything. It could be work related,” Dave said. “You know, for promotional reasons. She performed on his boat occasionally.”

“True.” Then I remembered a conversation from earlier today. “Amanda from the
Sea Jinx
said she saw Steve and Keiki together away from the boat on several occasions. Although she said the meetings took place awhile ago.”

Dave and I stared at each other.

“Do you still want to spend the night with Steve?” I asked.

Dave slumped in his chair. “I don’t know where to turn right now. I’m too exhausted to spend another night arguing with Regan, and now I’m not sure about staying here.”

“Why don’t you come back to my hotel? I’m sure Stan would let you bunk with him.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“C’mon, the worst that can happen is Stan will talk your ear off all night.”

“Or lend me his clothes.” Dave snickered as he stood and followed me back inside the condominium unit.

I was relieved Dave retained his sense of humor. I couldn’t imagine the stress he’d been under since the discovery of Keiki’s body less than six days ago. Dave gathered his things while I loaded our dirty dishes in Steve’s dishwasher.

Even suspects deserve to come home to a tidy kitchen.

We stepped into the elevator, which chugged down the three floors to the lobby. I could have made better time walking down the stairs. And if we’d taken the stairwell, we also wouldn’t have been so surprised when we reached the ground floor.

The doors opened with a clang, followed by an “oh shit” from my brother.

Steve looked as surprised as I felt. “Where are you two going? Dave, aren’t you spending the night?”

Dave froze in place, eyes wide. Lips silent.

Great. He picked a heck of a time to relinquish his big brother “I’m in charge” status to his baby sister.

“My mother was anxious to see Dave,” I explained. “She’s been beside herself with worry so we’re going back to the hotel.”

Steve looked surprised. “Did you get a room there?”

“No, I’ll stay with Stan,” said Dave.

That comment made Steve’s blond eyebrows merge into a bushy question mark. “Okay, buddy, whatever you want. It’s too bad ‘cause I invited some friends over for a poker game. I thought it might lift your spirits to hang with us. But I’m sure you’ll have an interesting time hanging with, um, Stan.”

“Maybe next time,” Dave replied. “This week has been pretty tough on Mom.”

“Sure, I get it. Hey, Laurel, can I have a word with you?”

Dave and I exchanged looks, but he waited while Steve and I walked out to the open-air lobby.

“I’m worried about your brother,” Steve said. “He told me about some of the stuff he shared with the cops. I hope the information won’t put him in any danger.”

So did I. Especially danger from the friend he’d shared the information with.

“I don’t know who Keiki’s murderer is, but they aren’t getting near my brother.”

Steve put his arm around my shoulder and drew me close. I swear I am the worst detective in the world. Here I was ready to put the guy in jail and throw away the key, and he still made me tingle.

I drew away from Steve. He looked perplexed but let me go. “So how will you keep Dave occupied for the next couple of days?” he asked.

I nibbled on my lower lip. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Liz arranged an ATV tour of Waipi’o Valley tomorrow morning so we’ll try to include Dave.”

“That should be a great trip. I wish I could join you, but we have a morning snorkel sail.”

Steve’s comments and actions seemed so normal I decided my suspect meter must be broken. There was no way such a nice guy could kill anyone.

Dave called out. “Hey, Laurel, let’s get going.”

I said goodbye to Steve and joined my brother. As Dave and I walked to the parking lot, I looked back. Steve was talking on his cell, frowning, as the doors of the elevator closed.

Dave took over the driving detail, which was fine with me. I realized that I’d been up since five this morning. Dave must be equally exhausted since he’d only slept a few hours in his cell. I replayed my conversation with his friend in my head.

“I can’t imagine Steve as our killer.” Dave echoed my thoughts.

“Me either.” At least, I preferred that someone who kissed me was
not
a killer.

“You know if the cops don’t come up with any other suspects, they can arrest me again.”

“What kind of evidence do they have?”

Dave shot a glance at me then returned to stare at the dark and almost empty road ahead.

“In my opinion, a lot of the evidence is circumstantial,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “How about your lawyer’s opinion?”

“I guess it depends if the Prosecuting Attorney thinks she has a sufficient case against me.”

“So share. What do they have?”

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Well, like I said, some people––I don’t know who––saw me in town with Keiki those couple of times. It’s not like we were trying to hide our meetings.”

“They must have more than that.”

“There is. An opened bottle of beer with my fingerprints was sitting on the rock wall, but it probably got missed when we cleaned up. The police also ran tests on those pieces of broken glass they found on the lava rocks below the restaurant. They got the results back and it showed something.

I gasped. “Like drugs?”

“A type of drug, I guess. They tested it, and it turned out to be Ambien.”

“The sleeping medication? Do any of your bartenders or servers use it?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea if any of my employees use it. Unfortunately, I do.”

My head swirled with Dave’s new revelation. “So Keiki was poisoned?”

“They weren’t originally sure if her death was an accident, suicide or murder. But the toxicology results showed that Keiki had Ambien in her system. Enough to put a dance troupe to sleep.”

“Lots of people take Ambien. That’s very circumstantial evidence.” I loved the sound of that word “circumstantial” rolling over my tongue. Made me feel like I almost knew what I was doing.

“I think that’s one reason they didn’t feel they had enough hard evidence to charge me with murder––yet. Although Detective Lee stated that Walea pointed an incriminating finger at me. She claimed Keiki had a rendezvous arranged with her boss.”

“You didn’t meet Keiki, did you?”

He shook his head. “No. But when I arrived home after the reception, Regan and I got into it once again. She accused me of sleeping with Keiki, and I denied it. Then she stormed into the bedroom, slammed the door and went to bed, I guess. I watched TV awhile then went for a walk. Thought the night air might clear my head.”

“Heck of a time for a stroll,” I muttered, shaking my head at my alibi-less brother. On the other hand, his eyelids remained twitch-free. It appeared he was telling the truth.

“Hey, it’s Kailua, for Pete’s sake. This is as safe a town you can live in as anywhere.”

Unless you’re a hula dancer caught up in some nefarious activity.

“I guess if you were gone, Regan could have met Keiki at the restaurant and slipped Ambien into something she ate or drank.” I glanced out the window at the passing scenery wondering if I should ask Dave the question that kept nagging at me. “Do you honestly think your wife could be the killer?”

“I don’t know what to think. Ever since Ritz wangled this deal with the
Bride and the Bachelor
show, Regan’s been wound tighter than a championship yo-yo.”

“Was she stressed enough to fight with Keiki over you?”

“My wife can accomplish anything she sets her mind to,” he replied. “Even murder.”

Saturday morning arrived far too early. I stumbled into the bathroom and stared at my bleary eyes. Once I returned home to Placerville, I would need another vacation to recover from this one. It seemed wrong to go on the ATV outing when we should be detecting, but it was the excursion I’d most looked forward to since we’d first planned this trip. Plus I felt my brother could use a break after his horrendous week.

The island brochures described the Waipi’o Valley as beautiful, serene, and a sacred area in the Hawaiian culture. With vistas 2,000 feet above the valley floor, twin waterfalls and a black sand beach, it was a guaranteed once-in-a-lifetime experience. Unfortunately, the only way to experience the beauty was to drive a four-wheeled all-terrain vehicle, or ride a four-heeled all- terrain horse.

The guys chose the gas guzzler, of course.

I yawned and followed the scent of coffee brewing in the miniature coffeemaker. I poured a cup then joined my mother on the lanai. She put down her magazine and stared at me. My hair was so wild and frizzy I was surprised the tiny yellow songbirds that greeted us each morning hadn’t moved in and turned my head into a vacation nest.

“You look like crap,” she commented, but in her usual elegant manner.

“Mahalo, Mother.”

“Honey, maybe you should stay behind and rest. We’re only here until tomorrow. Don’t you want some time relaxing on the beach?”

“I’d like to spend a month lying on a chaise lounge with a daiquiri by my side, but that’s not going to happen either.”

“Did you and Dave come up with any brilliant deductions last night?” Mother asked.

I dumped a packet of sugar in my cup, sipped some coffee then opened one more packet. “Nothing other than the realization he can’t trust anyone outside of our family.”

“I hate to fly home and leave him all alone to fend for himself,” she said. “Even though he was released, he’s on the front page of the morning newspaper. The police stated the case is still an open investigation. Do you think that means they could arrest him again?”

“According to Dave, yes, they could.” I stared at the distant ocean view. “How would you feel about extending our stay a few days?”

“I was going to suggest it myself. Why don’t I skip the ATV ride and stay behind to change our reservations? Will your children mind if we’re here a few more days? What about the bank?”

“The kids will be fine. They dote on their grandfather and he’s probably spoiling them to death. And work won’t be an issue.”After saving the president of Hangtown Bank’s reputation last year, I had a feeling he could spare me for a few extra days.

Although I’d worried about taking the ATV excursion when we should be investigating, Dave was thrilled to take the tour. Especially after he stopped at the restaurant and discovered reporters hoping to get an interview with a recently released murder suspect. We all agreed the break would be good for him.

Winding our way through Waimea cowboy country, we passed cattle farms and horse ranches set against the backdrop of snow-topped Mauna Kea. If I squinted, I could even see the world’s largest astronomical observatory perched atop the 13,796-foot summit.

The rolling hills at this high elevation reminded me of the California gold country, except this tropical terrain received far more rain, leaving the hills greener than the finest emeralds. On my next trip to Hawaii, I was packing my cowboy hat and boots for a little
Paniolo
riding on the range.

I only hoped that any return trips to this beautiful island would involve a relaxing vacation and not a visit to my brother in a Hawaiian prison.

At the ATV tour center, our small group along with some other patrons mounted our red four-wheelers. Les, our friendly guide, demonstrated the use of the hand brakes and throttle, which seemed easy enough. We lined up in a straight formation, behind our leader. Although I’d never driven an ATV before, the instructions appeared fairly simple. I’d recently piloted a snowmobile. How hard could it be?

I strapped on my helmet, grabbed the handlebars and got ready for the ride of a lifetime.

My first thought: I’m going to die!

My second thought: I’m going to die without ever having sex again.

That realization woke me from the fog of sheer terror that engulfed me when I realized my ATV was only a few feet away from crunching into a massive eucalyptus tree. I swerved to squeeze in between two gigantic trees, and my back tire nipped a palm on the right.

Thud! The tree I’d whacked attempted to return the favor by clobbering me with one of its coconut projectiles. It missed by a couple of inches. How did I get this far behind the rest of the group? And why weren’t they looking for their missing friend?

I weaved my vehicle between a few more trees and finally reached a grassy meadow and scenic viewpoint where the rest of the tour group waited.

“What happened to you?” Liz asked, as I rolled to a stop next to her.

“Me?” I said. “Which way did you guys go?”

Stan pointed to a wide trail rutted with tire marks.

Oh, so that was the trail.

“I took an alternate route,” I responded.

The tour guide snorted and Liz rolled her eyes.

“You’re supposed to stay with the group,” Liz said. “We weren’t sure what happened to you until we heard you playing bumper cars with the trees.”

Everyone’s a critic.

The guide motioned for our group to follow him. I attempted to do a U-turn and discovered ATV’s aren’t that maneuverable. By the time I circled back, I was stuck at the end of the line again with a bunch of strangers. This time I would remain close to the group. The last thing I wanted was to find myself alone on one of the many trails leading in and out of this immense valley.

The clouds that had threatened to drench us all morning finally let loose. The patter of rain sounded like elves tap-dancing on my helmet. My eyelashes were working overtime blinking away droplets of water. I wondered if anyone had thought of installing windshield wipers on the helmets.

The trail seemed mushier by the minute. Tiny puddles rapidly turned into small streams. I knew that the all-terrain vehicles would not have any difficulty maneuvering in the mud. I, on the other hand, was not an all-terrain woman. I gripped the handlebars as if my life depended on it. Ahead of me, the riders reduced their speed to a crawl. A misty fog hovered over us as we reached the higher elevation of the rim overlook. The next time I visited the Waipi’o Valley I was bringing my yellow slicker and carrying a thermos of hot chocolate in my backpack.