Murder in Honolulu: A Skye Delaney Mystery (4 page)

However, that seemed to be asking the
impossible.

"I take it she doesn't work?" I'd heard that
through the grapevine. Not that she needed to work, since she was
married to a man who appeared to be more than capable of supporting
his wife. Of course, that hadn't stopped me from wanting to do my
own thing when I was married to him back in the day. But then that
was just me.

"Not on this planet," Carter moaned. "Hell,
not even in this city! The word
work
is not in Darlene's
vocabulary."

Strangely enough, one of Carter's pet peeves
in our relationship was that I
did
work (never mind the fact
that it was his hiring me that led to our romance in the first
place). It had something to do with the balance of power most men
prefer to have in their favor. Had he changed his tune over time?
Or was this really only about Darlene doing something with her time
other than maybe having an affair?

Another one of those awkward moments between
us left an eerie silence that hung in the air like thick smoke.

"What about your child?" I asked. "I thought
most mothers had their hands full just getting through the
day."

Carter's brow creased in the center. "One of
the advantages of being independently wealthy is that you can
afford hired help," he bragged. "Darlene has made an art form of
it. Usually the only time I can get her to live up to her
responsibilities of being a mother is when she wants
something."

A sad statement, I thought, if true. "Have
you confronted her about your suspicions?"

He paused. "Yes."

"And?"

"And she denies it." He curled one side of
his mouth into a sneer. "She says I'm jealous, paranoid, and way
off base."

I had never known Carter to be jealous or
paranoid in our marriage, probably because I gave him no reason to
be. On the other hand, the word
possessiveness
did come to
mind.

"Well, where does Darlene claim she's been
when she goes out?" I asked.

"Shopping or at a girlfriend's."

"What makes you think she's lying?"

He scowled. "She never shows me anything she
bought during the times in question, though she never has any
trouble doing so the rest of the time whenever she decides to run
up the charge cards." He sighed. "As for friends, I've never known
Darlene to have
any
female—"

We were interrupted by the untimely,
irritating presence of a giant whitefly that invaded my office and
seemed to take particular delight in watching us squirm. It finally
had the decency to land in a most appropriate spot. I kept an
insect swatter in my desk drawer for such routine occasions and
didn't hesitate to use it when I thought I could nail the
critter.

"Don't move!" I ordered Carter, who had
apparently lost sight of the insect. Fortunately, I knew exactly
where it had landed. I raised the swatter, took two looping steps,
and lowered the boom right between Carter's legs.

Bull's-eye!

Or right on the money, pun intended.

Carter buckled, more from sheer
embarrassment than anything else.

"Oops," I said, and managed to suppress a
giggle. It felt better than I could have expected. "Let me clean
that nasty little creature off you..."

I yanked a couple of tissues from the box I
kept on the desk and scooped up the victim's remains.

Carter grimaced. "Dammit, Skye! Couldn't you
have waited for it to land somewhere else? This suit cost me a
pretty penny!" He grabbed two tissues to finish wiping his
pants—which turned into smearing what was left more than anything
else.

"So have them professionally cleaned," I
uttered half sympathetically, "and send me the bill." I made a
feeble attempt at justification. "Sometimes they just won't leave
on their own. Sorry."

"Yeah, I'll bet you are," he grumbled, and
now seemed to find humor in it himself. "I suppose I had that one
coming—long overdue." He chuckled. I smiled, but kept my mouth
shut. "At least it was that poor bastard," he said, glancing at the
wastebasket, "who got the worst of it."

The incident appeared to break the tension
in the room that had been palpable. A moment later, it was back to
the business at hand.

I asked: "Do you have a picture of your
wife?"

I had never had the pleasure (or lack of,
was probably more like it) of meeting or laying eyes on his former
mistress, having chosen to spare myself the indignity.

Carter removed a five-by-seven picture from
his suit coat pocket and handed it to me. It was a wedding
photograph of him and his bride.

"It was all I could find," he said guiltily.
"We haven't taken many pictures—"

I hated to admit it, but Carter's former
mistress and current wife was beautiful. It wasn't surprising
really. If nothing else, Carter Delaney definitely had an eye for
attractive women, present company included. It was the fact that he
couldn't seem to settle for one woman at a time that pissed me off.
At least it had back in the day.

Darlene Delaney looked at least ten years
Carter's junior and she was several inches shorter. She had short
blonde hair, blue eyes, and a shapely body in what looked like a
very expensive wedding gown. Or certainly much more than what I
paid for mine. Whether I chose to acknowledge it or not, Carter and
Darlene were a nice looking couple. But then so were we and look
where it got us.

I wondered if Carter and his present wife
were headed down the same path toward divorce.

"This will do," I said evenly, putting the
photo on my desk. "I'll also need your address, the type of car
Darlene drives, and some idea of what time she likes to go
out."

"No problem." Carter dug into his wallet and
pulled out a snapshot. Sporting an uneasy smile, he said: "Thought
you might like to see what my daughter looks like—"

Silently, I took the picture of a baby not
more than a year old, with beautiful blue eyes and curly blonde
hair.

"Her name is Ivy," Carter said proudly.

I tried to imagine this pretty little baby
as mine—ours. That thought quickly gave way to reality. Ivy was the
product of Carter and the woman he essentially gave me up for and
now questioned her faithfulness to him.

I bit the inside of my lip, but managed a
smile while handing him back the photo.

"She's cute," I said honestly.

Carter beamed. "You should see her now—"

It was something I was understandably in no
hurry to do. I changed the subject by handing him a yellow notepad.
Apparently, he got the message.

"So what happens if your wife is cheating on
you?" I asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

Carter shrugged. "Probably a divorce..." Our
eyes locked, and he said: "Guess I really never knew what I had
with you until it was too late—"

"Don't, Carter—" I said quickly for both our
sakes. "Let's not go down that road. Just keep this
strictly
professional."

He seemed to contemplate it for a long
moment before asking: "What made you change your mind about taking
my case? Or is that privileged information?"

"There's no hidden agenda here," I assured
him. "I felt there was no reason why I couldn't work for you just
as I would anyone who came into this office and requested my
services. It's as simple as that!" To suggest anything else would
only complicate matters, I thought. Including the added pressure
Ridge had given me to take the ball and run with it rather than
give in to past demons.

My response seemed to irk Carter, but he
tried hard not to show it. "So how much of an advance do you want?"
He pulled an envelope out of his briefcase and removed a batch of
crisp bills. "Will ten thousand do for starters?"

He put the cash down in front of me. It was
certainly a nice way to begin an investigation, though I couldn't
help but feel he was flaunting his wealth. Or reminding me of what
I'd missed out on financially.

I picked up the stack of hundred dollar
bills. Though I was very tempted to take it all, as he apparently
wanted me to, I didn't bite the bait. Since I figured it should
take no more than two or three days at the most to get the goods on
his wife, if there were any goods to get, I counted out five
thousand dollars and handed him back the rest.

"This should be fine for starters," I told
him, choosing professional ethics and personal pride over a more
than generous advance. "I'll bill you if you owe me more."

He nodded. "You make the rules..."

I stood. "I'll be in touch as soon as I have
something for you."

Carter rose almost reluctantly, and favored
me with a grim look. "Thanks for your help, Skye. If you run into
any roadblocks, don't hesitate to let me know. Darlene may be
giving it up to someone other than me, but she sure as hell isn't
going to spread her legs for
you
without fighting tooth and
nail to hold on to what she thinks is rightfully hers."

CHAPTER
FOUR

I was still pondering Carter's parting words
as I sat in my car outside his house. By the looks of it, I could
see what Darlene wanted to hold onto. The oceanfront home was
located on Kaikuono Place in one of Honolulu's most exclusive
districts, Diamond Head, and screamed
fabulous
. On the
slopes of the world famous volcanic crater by the same name, the
mansion was two stories and boasted a combination of stone, stucco,
and rich woods with arched windows, steep gables, and wrought iron.
There was a masonry garden wall and an entry blocked from the
street by an electronic gate. Palm trees and high shrubbery
surrounded the property like guards sworn to protect its
occupants.

A touch of envy overcame me as I remembered
the nice but modest place we called home when we were married.
Carter had obviously moved up quite a bit in the world since then.
And so had Darlene as a result.

My thoughts turned to the reason I was there
gawking at my ex-husband's exquisite accommodations. At precisely
ten a.m., Darlene Delaney emerged from the house with her daughter.
With the telephoto zoom lens of my digital camera, I honed in on
the two.

With her hair in pigtails, Ivy was wearing
an pink dress and matching shoes. She held her mother's hand
seemingly under protest.

Darlene looked relaxed and stylish in an
olive pantsuit and high-heeled mules. Her shoulder length hair hung
loose. She removed sunglasses from an oversized purse and covered
her eyes before heading toward a bright red BMW in the circular
drive.

I disappeared from view as the car sped past
the gate and onto the street, whizzing by me as though my
comparatively inexpensive vehicle was insignificant. Was she in a
big hurry or what? I wondered while starting my car. Or was this
just Darlene's normal reckless way of driving with her daughter in
the car?

In any event, I had to put on the burners
just to keep up.

During my surveillance, I considered the
irony that Carter may well have been getting a major dose of the
same medicine he had once dished out to an unsuspecting me. After
sulking for some time, I finally got past it and on with my life.
So had he, and apparently never looked back.

Till now.

Then I found myself wondering what Carter
would think of Ridge. And vice versa. They were about as different
as night and day, but had enough common ground to get involved with
me. At this stage of my life, I couldn't help but think I was much
better off with Ridge.

These musings drifted away as I followed
Darlene to a day care center on Ala Aolani Street, where she
literally dropped Ivy off before going it alone to some unknown
destination. For a time, she seemed to be driving just for the sake
of driving. Or maybe to see how many heads she could turn in the
cars she left in the dust.

This exercise in tire wear came to a head
when she turned onto Kalakaua Avenue and parked at the Royal
Hawaiian Center, a
four-level
shopping mall in the heart of Waikiki.

I parked not far from her and waited while
Darlene took extraordinary pains to redo her face and hair,
primping for someone apparently other than her husband. Normally I
had a feel for whether or not a spouse was having an affair. But in
this case, my instincts were undoubtedly flawed. Spying on your
ex-husband's current wife probably nullified any objectivity. But
something told me there was more to it than that. Judging by
Carter's complaints about Darlene, the marriage seemed more or less
doomed whether she was having an affair or not.

Or was that perhaps wishful thinking on my
part?

I doubted it. Why on earth would Carter want
to stay married to someone who mistreated him and apparently
neglected their daughter? On the other hand, if Darlene was willing
to fight me "tooth and nail" to keep the life and luxuries she had,
why would she risk it all by having an affair that she seemingly
did not give a damn if her husband was privy to or not?

It didn't add up, making me even more
suspicious, even though I knew as well as anyone that marital
triangles rarely added up to everyone's satisfaction. I was living
proof of that.

Darlene left her car and headed inside the
mall. I followed from a safe distance, dressed in my foot
surveillance inconspicuous attire of a blazer over a mock halter
and slim leg pants. I wore casual flats for practicality and
brought along a nondescript handbag with all the essential elements
of the trade.

An unlikely place to meet a lover, I
thought, but not impossible. Maybe Darlene would surprise me and
meet with someone in the back room of one of the fashionable
boutiques. Or maybe even out in the open in the food court.

If that was the case, she certainly was
taking her own sweet time about it. Darlene spent nearly three
exhausting hours at the mall. At least it was exhausting for me, in
spite of my fitness routine. This was one time in which the lady
did take full advantage of her credit cards. She left the mall
overloaded with bags, but no lover.