Ellen turned and rested her back on the closed door, her eyes downcast, but the smile was unmistakable. She brightened as she sidled up to me and poured herself a drink.
"Now, how did Elliott rise from the dead, stagger down to the shore, and throw himself into the briny deep?" she asked after a healthy swig.
How indeed?
Liam said he planned to ask questions at the Blue Island Motel and left. Ellen and I plotted out the murder with the help of scotch on the rocks. The first one burned, but after three, the world expanded and welcomed me in. Ellen's extra head bobbed next to her, following an old tribal beat pulsing in my veins. She put one of her tapes in the Dictaphone, detailing escapades from her past. In her youth, Capture the Flag was an Olympic sport contender for nude participants. Hiding the flag was a challenge altogether, but finding it first led to a few shotgun weddings.
Liam returned, and I think I ate dinner, but I wasn't sure. I knew my sides were sore from laughing, and Liam told me to spend the night at Ellen's house. I agreed since my tongue and teeth felt numb.
My dreams included bald overweight men dancing and reciting Shakespeare with Foghorn Leghorn accents.
I woke up and couldn't move, but my bladder threatened. Scotch had made me giddy last night and rigid this morning. If a ray of sunshine touched my retinas, they would surely sizzle and die. As I tried to inch vertically out of my bed, I vaguely remembered Ellen singing excerpts from The Mikado. I gave up and crawled to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, softly brushed my teeth, and rinsed my mouth three times with germ-killing mouthwash. I ruled out a shower because it required balance, and I had to lean left to stay upright. My unpacked clothes sat in a pile on the floor. I had been living out of my suitcase at Liam's house. I pulled on shorts and a T-shirt with a bikini top underneath it. Ellen wouldn't judge my appearance.
I found my way to the kitchen and a humming Ellen. Thankfully, I must have slept through a Garrett visit last night. I could ask her to verify, but the details would mark me prematurely.
"Good morning, dear. Have a bit of coffee to chase away the cobwebs," Ellen said, wearing a dazzling printed kimono.
Her serenade last night definitely had a larger—I gave Garrett the benefit of the doubt—audience.
I nodded my head—bad idea—and caught the table as I sat.
"Liam sent over some fresh scones for you. He said they soak up the excess alcohol. If not, they're still delicious," she said as she plated one and set it in front of me. "Are you planning to swim today?"
"No, I couldn't find my bra," I said before I took a big bite of flaky goodness.
Ellen smiled and pointed to the couch. My bra lay there, looking perfectly innocent and guilty at the same time. My exquisite scone lodged in my throat and choked me.
"You decided to give a performance last night. I believe you sang your high school's theme song. You said you needed a prop and had your bra off in record time. You waved it around like a baton," Ellen said as she performed the Heimlich maneuver on me.
I caught the dough ball as it popped out of my mouth. Ellen put a glass of water in front of me. I sipped slowly as I gathered my strength. I lifted myself up out of the chair, staggered across the room, and reclaimed my undergarment.
"It was just the two of us here last night, right?" I asked.
My answer appeared in the hallway. Garrett, barefoot and wearing a green silk, full-length robe, hiked over to the table.
"Good morning, fair ladies. I enjoyed the musical performance last night immensely. Simone, have you had formal training?" he asked as Ellen offered him a cup of tea.
"No, I come by foolish behavior naturally. It's a gift. If you'll excuse me," I said as I wobbled to my feet.
I passed the living room window as a police car pulled up the driveway.
Did they know about the bogus phone call? Liam had taken the burner phone last night, promising to destroy it. Should I call him and make sure it was gone?
"Those buggers are back," Ellen said from behind me.
"I'll call Angie and alert her," Garrett said as he picked up his phone on the table.
"I'm going to get dressed," I said as the policeman knocked on the door.
I hurried down the hall and wished myself sober. I stripped down, put on my bra, a white tee, and a floral-patterned pair of Bermuda shorts. I tried to look like a golfer, not a murderer. I heard Ellen answer the door, muffled conversation, and then my name. A few deep breaths to keep the nausea away and a quick tongue twister to check my brain feed, which I totally screwed up. I opened the bedroom door to find two cops waiting in the hall.
"Good morning, officers. How may I help you?" I asked, all cheery and chipper as my heart pounded against my ribs.
"Detective Ray has some questions for you," the lead one said.
"Wonderful because I have some questions for him," I said as I breezed by them and headed to the door.
"Courage, my dear. Angie is on her way to the station," Garrett said as he shook my hand.
"Keep calm, and don't let the bastards see you sweat. I shall be on my way momentarily," Ellen said after she kissed my cheek.
"Thank you," I said as I sucked back tears or scotch fumes.
Another car pulled up as I made my way to the squad car.
"Now what?" Liam asked as he slammed the car door and rushed up to me.
"This is none of your affair, sir. Please step back," the second officer said.
Liam took a millimeter step sideways, kissed me hard on the mouth, and then pivoted back to his car. I needed a minute to recover from the smooch. My brain was befuddled enough without flipping on the lust switch. Liam may have caught my fan, aka bra, dance last night. In a weird way, I kind of hoped he had. I settled in the backseat of the car as the policemen got in the front. We drove away, and Liam followed us to the station.
My thoughts ran through every plausible excuse as to why I had nothing to do with the call to Martha. I didn't have her number in my contacts list or my phone. Martha was upset and made up stories to bolster her own alibi. Did she tell the police what she told us—I mean, her father? Was there evidence from the pool and Elliott's room or Martha's room? I'll pretend they stayed separately. Did my phone turn up in a police sweep of the premises? A lot of questions but few answers came to mind that didn't incriminate me somehow.
I'll take the Fifth for one thousand, Alex.
We arrived at the station. Liam, who had parked his car, hustled over to the squad car and helped me out of the backseat.
"Is she under arrest?" he asked and got blank stares in response.
It was an easy yes or no question. Angie drove up and parked.
I followed the policemen in and craned my neck around to see Liam give Angie a peck on the cheek.
"If you like a woman, do you kiss her on the mouth or the cheek?" I asked one policeman as we walked to Ray Kahoalani's office.
They both gave me a look and then laughed.
"Liam likes you," the other officer replied as he knocked on Ray's door.
"Come," Detective Ray said, and I turned the knob and opened the door. "What's with the stupid grins?"
"Maybe we're happy to see you," I said, knowing I wore a goofy smile. The policemen blushed and bolted out of the way. "We were discussing kisses."
"With those two?" Detective Ray asked.
"I needed a male perspective, and they were very concise."
"Have a seat, Simone. Angie should be here soon," Detective Ray said as he got up from his desk and walked to the door.
As if on cue, Angie hustled into the room carrying a briefcase.
"Sorry I'm late," she said as she sat next to me.
"Don't apologize. Women say, 'I'm sorry,' all the time when they haven't done anything wrong. My wife says it to make me feel bad, and it works," Ray said as he closed the door behind her.
"It's an international plot, and we all sign on at birth," I said as he sat behind his desk.
He smirked and opened a
file folder.
"The Washington DC police searched Elliott's apartment and your apartment. The warrant was faxed to the Aloha Lagoon Resort after the fact. You need to talk to your building manager about his obliging ways," Ray said.
"I knew I should have cleaned it," I said, still in the happy swirl of Liam's kiss.
"Simone, let Detective Kahoalani finish," Angie said as a reprimand.
She knew about Liam's kiss. It cured my hangover, so I got no complaints. Hate me all you want, lawyer lady.
Angie shifted away from me. If I told her about the phone call her father had staged for us, she'd kill me.
"They sent me a list of items found in Mr. Smythe-Wilkes's apartment, and official documents were found in a folder with Simone's fingerprints on it," Detective Ray said as he seemed to notice the tension between us. You work for Congresswoman Niven, correct?"
"If you remember I quit right here in your office," I said to remind Angie her check would be late. "I never handled any official Congressional business. My job was managing the spin and working with her reelection campaign. May I ask what topic was covered in the paperwork?"
"The papers found in Elliott's Washington apartment were classified documents from Congresswoman Niven's office. Also, Elliott's bank statements were found showing deposits made in five-thousand-dollar increments. Possibly payments for something. The police turned the documents over to the FBI," he said.
Elliott had been paid to steal from Deborah and hadn't paid his fair share of this vacation from hell? My credit was ripped to shreds, and I clipped coupons for haircuts while he sat on a pile of untaxed money? I officially hated Elliott.
"Detective, I never saw a dime from Elliott," I said as I ripped open my purse and tossed my credit cards on his desk. "Check my credit reports and the balances due on these bits of plastic. I've been paying Elliott's bills because he thought his identity had been stolen."
"It was, but not the way you think. Elliott's fingerprints match those of Dominick Carroll, listed as deceased almost fifteen years ago in Cincinnati," Detective Ray said.
Struck dumb didn't begin to describe my feelings. Lied to, hoodwinked, played for a fool, shattered, and speechless all came to mind as I wrapped my thoughts around this new bombshell.
"Dominick worked a pharmaceutical company's warehouse and was implicated in a robbery. Cases of a powerful painkiller had gone missing. Then so did Dominick. Two weeks later, a bashed up and partially burned body was found in an alley by his mother's home. Dominick's wallet had conveniently survived the fire. His mother had tearfully identified his class ring and Converse All Stars," he said as he sorted through the papers on his desk.
"Where is she now?" Angie asked.
"Sold the house and moved away into the ether. No current information available," Detective Ray said as he closed the file.
"She probably had an alias and getaway plan too," Angie said.
"So now we have a bigger net to throw, but no suspects," he said.
I sat in silence. Elliott murdered someone years ago to cover his crime? Who was this guy I had planned to marry? How many clues had I missed? What had my part been in his grand scheme? It was time to have my head examined for dents and loose screws. I sank to the floor and hugged my knees to my chest. Detective Ray and Angie scrambled to help me, and their voices were muted. I pushed away their fussing and drowned them out with my focus on the one fact I knew to be true.
I was pissed. I had done nothing wrong and been stuck with shoveling a barn full of muck.
It was time I solved Elliott's—I mean, Dominick's second murder—before I found out I wasn't me. This rabbit hole had gotten too crowded because a bald overweight man blocked the exit.
Liam found files connected to emails on Elliott's phone. I didn't want to drop that fact into this meeting. One was addressed to George's think tank. If Elliott had written articles praising or damaging a specific drug, he needed insider information. Deborah may have brought home the documents about experimental drug trials and didn't know George had passed them off. Was Elliott playing them off each other?
Knowing which drug showed promise before the results were released meant millions of dollars. George could manipulate a company's stock price with insider information.
How had my fingerprints gotten on the folder? Easy, I could have touched anything over the past three months.
"Or did someone drop off the folder at Elliott's apartment after I left for Hawaii?" I asked, feeling my deductive reasoning kicking on. "I believe Elliott worked for George Lawler, Congresswoman Niven's husband. He may have given the papers to Elliott. Politicians feed off the lobbyists' money. George's think tank must be funded by the drug companies."
"Mr. Lawler is currently in Miami and denies all knowledge of Elliott Smythe-Wilkes," Detective Ray said as he helped me to my feet.
"He didn't know his daughter traveled with Elliott to Kauai or about Elliot's death?" Angie asked.
"Nope, claims complete ignorance. Being the father of daughters, I believe him. I didn't want to know everything about my children's frolics. I'd have to arrest them and their friends and stake any boys to a fire ant hill. Now, I hate palace intrigue and all the interconnecting loops of politics, but somebody brought a grudge to my island and left the stink. Simone, you're still here, but I'm having trouble connecting you to the crime," he said.
"Thank you. Am I free to leave?" I asked as I headed to the door.
"Yes. How long do you plan to stay in Kauai?"
"I got kicked out of the Aloha Lagoon, and I'm sponging off Ellen Bentley," I said.
"And Liam," Angie said with a frown. "Excuse me. That was uncalled for and unprofessional. Under the circumstances, you accepted offered hospitality, which is exactly what any other reasonable person would do."
"Please send your bill to Ellen's house. Thanks for your help," I said to Angie and was out in the hall before she could respond.
The game board had shifted because this pawn decided she wanted a promotion to rook. Liam sat in the waiting area and stood when he saw me.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, and I have so much to tell you."
He put his arm around my shoulders as Angie appeared in the doorway. She bustled past us and out the door.
"I guess I have stuff to tell you too," he said as he rubbed his jaw.
We left and got in his car.
"Angie doesn't like you," I said.
"Yeah, the glares are for me. You just happen to be standing between us," he said as he drove out of the parking lot.
No details offered. I hated awkward silence and decided to fill it.
"I'm not a suspect anymore," I said.
"Good, I'm glad. But somebody killed Elliott," he said.
I summed up about the papers found and Elliott's secret identity.
"So few people are who they say they are these days. I'd make a horrible spy. How about you?" I asked as he parked next to his house.
He rested his hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.
"For a short time, I made an excellent spy," Liam said in a faraway voice.
None of his stories ended on a happy note. I opened my car door and sauntered to his front door. I needed to start collecting my belongings and go home. He hustled up behind me and opened the door.
I trailed in behind him and sat on the couch. He walked down the hall to his bedroom. Exhausted didn't begin to describe me. I was drained. I had lost so much in the last few days. I didn't trust, believe in, or care about anything or anyone anymore.
Liam dropped down next to me and held out his hand in friendship. We'd be buddies. In years to come, I'd reminisce about the gorgeous man who'd sheltered me during my Hawaiian themed trip to hell. I accepted his offer and held out my hand.
"Do you think my phone's in the ocean?" I asked as homesickness swept over me. "I should call Lizzie, but I don't remember her work number. I just hit her name in my contact list."
My mom woul
d be mad and disappointed, but she'd hold me while I cried. She'd stroke my hair and reassure me that everything would be alright. Bel Ryan, my personal protector, earth mother, and warrior queen, and I'd better remind Lizzie not to breathe a word to her.
"I should buy a new phone before I leave here. Also, I need to check out flights to DC."
"You're leaving now?" Liam asked.
"Yes. Detective Ray said I'm not being charged with a crime, and I can't afford to stay."
"I thought we had a…" He trailed off and stood.
He kept staring at me and started to speak and then stopped. He began to pace around the room. I owed him money and more thanks than I could ever repay. I was about to offer an IOU when he dropped to his knees in front of me.
"Why do you let one man's opinion cloud your view of yourself? At some point, we all fall for the wrong person. You missed the point. Elliott caught you at a weak moment. Perhaps you had a dip in self-confidence or esteem, and you thought he could fill it. He missed an opportunity to spend his life with the most glorious woman I've ever met," he said as he grasped my hands in his own.
Me?
"I know it's sudden, but I've never felt more alive than I have in your presence. You're a blast of sunlight through the dark clouds," he said.
He had such beautiful eyes, perfect windows to his wounded soul.
"Simone, please stay. I can offer you nothing more than a cottage, Gran's exploits, and unlimited scones without the clotted cream."
Scones sealed the deal. This wasn't forever. I wasn't falling for that love again, but it was super close. I'd tuck my romantic notions under my logical brain. Unless… Never mind. I accepted his terms.
"It's a deal," I said as I maneuvered my hand around to shake his.
His lips formed a grim line on his face.
"No love declarations or proposals, okay? For now, let's see how we fit in each other's lives," I said sounding surer than I felt.
He let go of me and stood up.
"I owe that bastard Elliott a huge debt of gratitude. I'll try to make it up to him by helping find his killer."
"Okay, I need something else for my updated résumé."
Deadly Bubbles in the Wine (Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Book 4) Page 10