Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) (24 page)

“What about the
fie-on-say
?” Pat asked.

“She’s got an alibi that’s pretty airtight,” Em told them.

“What’s the neighbor’s name again?” Kiki tried to sound as if she didn’t care what the guy’s name was, as if her whole plan didn’t hinge on it.

“Damian Bautista.” Em reached over the counter toward a wheel of Laughing Cow cheese and opened it. “What are you doing?” she asked Kiki.

“I’m using coconut oil to scramble the eggs.”

“That’s the stuff you rub on to get a tan. Or I should say a burn.” Em stared at the bottle in Kiki’s hand.

“It’s pure coconut oil. I use it for everything—cooking, facial moisturizer, and hair conditioner.”

“That the same stuff they sell by the other suntan oils and stuff?” Pat wanted to know.

Kiki shot her a glare. “This is the cooking stuff. Same thing.”

“So, what about this Bautista?” Pat got the hint and steered the conversation back on track.

“Sounds Portugee.” Kiki turned the stove on and started whisking the eggs with a fork and then added some milk out of a pint container.

“I haven’t been an islander long enough to know what kind of a name that is. It’s definitely not Hawaiian.” Em pulled the red tab and unwrapped a wedge of cheese.

“Flora might know some Bautistas.” Kiki carefully poured the eggs into the hot oil in the skillet.

“You promised you wouldn’t do anything, Kiki,” Em reminded her. “The HPD doesn’t need your help.”

Kiki pressed her lips together and focused on the eggs. Then she said, “Open the rest of those cheese wedges for me please, Em.”

Em started opening. The coffee was almost finished brewing.

“Do they think maybe it was a random killing?” Pat asked. “This Bautista guy, why would he kill your ex?”

“They got into it over a parking space on the street. From what we learned yesterday, Phillip’s fiancée broke up with him and kicked him out of their suite at the Moana. He must have been carrying enough money to rent one of those day-week-month studios in a seedy neighborhood. It’s in a building called the Lokelani. Phillip was probably enraged at that point. Maybe the neighbor didn’t like his attitude. Maybe he followed Phillip. Phillip had a gun—I have no idea why—but maybe the guy went to Phillip’s apartment, and they got into it again. Phillip ended up dead. I really don’t know.”

“That’s a lot of maybes,” Pat said.

Em had finished opening the cheese wedges. “I’ve never put this in eggs.”

Kiki shrugged. “Me either, but it was the only cheese they had at the ABC Store.” She started chopping up the wedges and tossing cheese into the eggs.

“So the guy hasn’t been home? The missing neighbor?” Pat prodded.

The coffee was brewed. Em got up and poured some for all three of them. She said, “The police searched his place and discovered he uses it for storage. He doesn’t live there.”

“What were they looking for?”

“Something that would connect him to the murder. They found the murder weapon at the scene. It turned out to be a gun that Phillip owned, and it had been wiped clean of prints. They didn’t find the Booze Bible at Phillip’s or Bautista’s.”

“Is the place easy to get into?” Kiki peppered the eggs. “Maybe someone else took it.”

Em said, “The building has a very over-zealous apartment manager.”

“Why would Phillip steal the Booze Bible?” Pat asked.

“He needed money. I guess he thought Louie would pay anything for it. Roland and I found out he delivered the extortion letters to Louie and one other man before he was murdered. So Phillip had to have stolen it, or at the very least he was in on it. He must have had it in his possession at one point. Very few people would know what it’s worth.”

“Unless they were a bartender or they read the same article Phillip did,” Kiki said.

“That was in the
LA Times
,” Em said.

“What if he had a partner in on the thievery with him? Maybe the partner killed him and took the Booze Bible so he could get all the money himself.” Pat ran her palm over her buzz cut.

Kiki started pulling plates off of a shelf. She dished up the cheesy scrambled eggs and opened a couple of banana nut muffins, divided them with a knife, and set some slices on the plate next to the eggs.

“Boy, those look good,” Em said. “This was a great idea, Kiki.”

“Eat up,” Kiki said. “Lots to do today. We’ll need some protein.”

“Like what are you doing?” Em forked up more eggs.

Kiki paused, careful not to raise Em’s suspicion.

“What time is Louie’s demonstration? We should be there to cheer him on.”

“I’m not sure yet. He said he’d let me know.” Em sounded less than enthusiastic.

“Is there a problem? Louie’s still in the contest, isn’t he?” Kiki knew when Em was being evasive. The woman couldn’t lie to save her soul.

Em said, “Oh, he’s still competing. It’s just that . . .”

“Go on, spill it,” Pat said.

“I’m afraid all of you might be too big of a distraction,” Em said. “Everyone recognizes you now, and, truthfully, you aren’t exactly a low key group. This is Louie’s big day, not a Hula Maidens event. I think the spotlight should be on my uncle.”

Kiki’s initial reaction was anger, but it quickly cooled and pooled into hurt, mostly because she knew Em was right. She ate a couple of bites of egg in silence and thought about what Em said.

“You’re probably right,” Kiki finally admitted. “It is Louie’s big day. I would imagine all those bartenders and cocktail experts would get pretty excited if we all walked in. They’d probably want us to endorse their bars or their new drinks or whatever.” She wagged her fork in Em’s direction. “We’ll steer clear of the competition, but as soon as he’s finished, call my cell and let me know how it went.”

She and Pat tried to hurry breakfast and the clean up afterward and not act like they wanted to get away quickly. The other gals were waiting for them in Suzi and Trish’s room.

Once they were in the hall, Kiki shushed Pat until they were inside the elevator alone and the doors slid shut.

“What now?” Pat said.

“Now we join the girls, make sure we have the information we need, and coach Flora. I hate to think getting into Bautista’s apartment hinges on her, but she’s the only one local enough to get us inside. Once she’s well-rehearsed, we’ll load everyone into the van and head over to the murder scene.”

“We takin’ Little Estelle?”

“She’s one of our biggest diversions, but if she rolls off and disappears, we’ll waste valuable time looking for her. It would be better to leave her here.”

“Then what?”

“Then Flora and I will go inside the apartment while the rest of you create a diversion outside. If you didn’t have that cursed monkey bite, you’d be going in with us. As it is, you’ll have to keep an eye on the rest of the Maidens and man the boom box.”

“While you and Flora do what, exactly?”

“Look for clues in the apartment.”

“Like what kind of clues?” Pat pressed.

Kiki shrugged. “I’ll know them when I see them.”

35

“EVER’BODY IN?” PAT called off the names of the Hula Maidens in the rental van. “Kiki? Big Estelle? Trish? Flora? Precious? Lillian?”

When they heard their names, each of them hollered back,
“A’i!”

Pat pushed the button on the automatic sliding door and drove out of the Hilton parking structure. Riding shotgun, Kiki punched the coordinates for Damian Bautista’s apartment into the GPS tracker they had rented with the van.

Pat drove with one hand, navigating the crowded streets as Waikiki melded into Honolulu. Kiki leaned between the seats to give last minute instructions to the women in back. The Maidens were all outfitted in the same style muumuu in various bright floral fabrics.

“Flora, put the water bottle away. You need a clear head for this caper. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“This is not just water. It’s ‘special’ water for my nerves. I know what to do, don’t worry.” Flora shoved the plastic Gatorade bottle into her straw bag. “I gotta tell the manager I’m the guy’s cousin and get us into the apartment.”

“What’s the
guy’s
name?”

“Damian Bautista,” Flora said.

Kiki turned her gaze on Lillian. “What’s step one, Lil?”

“Step one. Get out of the van. Make sure we get noticed.”

“Perfect.” Kiki nodded. “Big Estelle, what’s step two?”

“Step two. Engage anyone and everyone we can in conversation while you track down the manager,” Big Estelle said.

“Step three? Precious?”

“Step three. When you give me the high sign, I yell ‘How about a dance?’”

“Step four, Trish.” Kiki nodded at Trish.

“Step four. Pat gets the boom box ready, and we line up while you and Flora head into the building.”

“Step five? Everyone say it all together.” Kiki wagged her finger at them.

They shouted in unison, “Dance as long as we have to and don’t leave the vicinity of the van no matter what.”

“And what’s the one thing you are
not
to forget?”

They answered in unison, “At all times be ready to
run
!”

Kiki smiled. “Perfect. Remember, we are venturing into unchartered territory. This is
not
Kauai. This is a sketchy area. These people only know what they’ve seen of us on television. They are not our friends. Anything could happen. If anything bad starts to go down, I want you all in this van and ready to roll.” She turned to Pat. “If perchance something were to happen, say the police show up, load up the van and get the girls out of there ASAP. Don’t wait for Flora and me. Got it?”

“I got it, but I don’t like it. I don’t like leaving one of our own behind,” Pat grumbled.

“Flora and I didn’t just fall off the taro truck. If we get in a fix, we’ll get ourselves out of it. Right, Flora?”

Flora burped.

Big Estelle waved her hand around in the air until Kiki noticed.

“What, Big Estelle?”

“Speaking of getting out of trouble, do you have any idea how long this is going to take? I’m hoping we can get back to the hotel before Mother gets herself into any jams.”

“Why isn’t she with us? I forget,” Lillian said.

“The Shriners are breaking up in to group sessions today. Last night one of her friends invited her to be a guest panelist,” Big Estelle said.

Kiki said, “I’m sure that seemed like a great idea when they were all closing down the bar at one a.m.”

“What in the heck is
she
gonna talk about?” Flora asked.

“Her duties as First Lady of the TajMaHaLay Lodge.”

Pat made a left turn. A cab behind them started honking like crazy as it drove by. She glanced in the rearview mirror. “What’s his problem?”

The computerized voice on the GPS tracker lost its cool and started yelling, “Danger. Pull over now. You are going the wrong way on a one way street. Danger. Danger. Pull over now!”

A lowered white Honda Civic came barreling toward them. Everyone in the back started screaming. Pat pulled over in time. She turned to Kiki and grinned. “So far so good.”

Pat backed down the block to the corner and headed off the right way. Within five more minutes they were on a street that was a far cry from Waikiki. Overflowing trash cans lined the curb. Faded stucco apartment buildings built from lot line to lot line stood next to weather-beaten wood frame houses constructed in the twenties. There were no landscaped yards or fountains here, no shiny cars, limos, or open air busses full of tourists snapping photos. Nor was there the laid-back country feel of Kauai.

“We’re in the gritty city now,” Pat observed.

In the far back seat, Trish snapped photos. Lillian’s face was no longer thick with makeup now that the Mindy’s ladies were gone. She fluffed her pink bouffant with a hair pick. Precious silently moved her arms, practicing her hula to a tune in her head. Flora snuck a sip out of her water bottle while Kiki pointed out an empty parking space. Pat whipped the van into it. They both looked at the address on the GPS tracker and checked it against the slip of paper Kiki was holding.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the computerized GPS voice informed them.

“We’re here,” Kiki said, staring across the street at a mint green building with the word Lokelani painted above the arched entry.

Pat surveyed the street. An old Chinese man was sweeping the sidewalk in front of a wooden house next door to the Lokelani. There was no one else around. “What are we gonna do now?” she asked Kiki.

Undaunted, Kiki had her hand on the door handle. “We’re going to stick to the plan. Let’s get out. We’ll start by questioning that old man sweeping. Mark my words, once anyone sees us, he won’t be the only one out here for long.” She tried the handle, but the door was locked. “Let me out, Pat.”

Pat clicked off the safety lock. Kiki climbed out. Pat opened the sliding door for the others, and soon the Maidens were all standing on the sidewalk near Phillip Johnson’s last known address.

Kiki walked up to the old man. He stopped sweeping but didn’t smile or say a word.

“A-loha,” she said in a tone sweeter than coconut syrup. “Do you live here?”

The man said nothing. He merely stared at her and the others.

“We’re looking for Damian Bautista. Do you know him?” Kiki watched the old man’s eyes. There was a flicker of recognition there, but his expression remained passive.

“Grandpa!” A woman’s voice called out from behind the screen door of the faded wood frame house. “What you doing out there, Grandpa?”