What was I going to do?
It was too late to run. Donna suddenly stormed inside, her eyes flashing. “Alana Park! Where’s my money?” she demanded in her raspy, chain-smoker voice.
“I’ll get it to you at the original deadline,” I said firmly.
“No. I want it now,” said Donna.
“That’s not possible,” I said. “I will pay off my loan, but I need that extra time.”
“Absolutely not,” Donna snapped.
Fine. If Donna wasn’t going to play fair, then I’d have to beat her at her own game.
“I know you owed Bentley money,” I said.
“What’s that?” Donna asked curtly.
I had managed to read through Donna’s folder at Bentley’s house before we left it. It had some very interesting information inside. Donna was more broke than I was. She desperately needed an income greater—or at least equal to—than the amount she was spending.
Donna was using the money people owed Bentley to pay off her own debts. Or, planning to, anyway.
“I also know that you spend money faster than you can get your hands on it. Your son was always there to bail you out—but what will you do, now that Bentley’s gone? Sophia cut you off years ago.”
That was documented in her folder. There had been records of Bentley and Sophia regularly giving Donna money for years. It was mostly Bentley, though. The records showed Sophia had quit the process a long time ago. And, from the looks of it, the money stream from Bentley to Donna had been slowly dwindling.
It appeared Bentley was tired of paying his mother’s debts.
I had struck a chord with Donna. Her face reddened and and she dug a lighter out of her pocket. She flipped it on and off as a nervous habit more than a scare tactic.
“What does that have to do with anything?” she choked out.
“I can help you,” I said. If paying Donna off the money I owed her son would get her away from me, then I’d do it. I would have had to pay it anyway.
“I’ll pay you what I owe on the original deadline,” I continued. “Then you’ll be able to dig yourself out of your own debt a little easier. Also, stop using Sophia to do your dirty work. If you want the money, do it yourself. Have some compassion. Sophia just lost her brother. Is using her the best way to treat your daughter?”
Donna slammed the lighter shut, shoving it back in her pocket. “I could force you to hand over the money today.”
“Are you threatening me in a room full of witnesses?” I asked calmly.
Donna’s lip curled as she surveyed the room. Giving up on me, her eyes locked on to someone else, like a hunter finding her prey.
The pyromaniacs were standing in the corner. Tristan went to get some shrimp, much to Peyton’s dismay. She had been using his body to block Donna’s view of her.
Peyton folded her appetizer napkin into a tiny square, attempting to appear invisible. It was probably the first time she’d ever tried that and she was failing miserably.
“You,” Donna spat, her gaze locking onto Peyton.
Peyton shrank behind a table of appetizers. “Hi, Donna.”
“You killed my son!” Donna’s voice was loud enough to cause everyone to turn their heads. A hush fell over the room.
“You know that’s not true,” Peyton insisted.
Donna towered over Peyton, who was trying to casually move away. “I always thought you were no good for Bentley. Your wild antics and careless attitude caused him to become sloppy. He stopped being the efficient and practical force of nature that I raised him to be.”
“Is it such a bad thing to loosen up a little?” Peyton bravely asked.
“Loosen up!” Donna snorted. “You had him eating pizza for breakfast! Bentley was a man of discipline before he met you. He had no time for frivolity.”
“Frivolity? That’s what you call a relationship?” Peyton’s face went red and splotchy. “You live your life finding people to prey on. You’re not better than me.”
“It doesn’t matter if I am or not.” Donna sneered. “My son was better than you. He had an established business. He made something of himself. What do you do? Run around with every guy you latch onto? Do you have a successful career?”
“I can at least connect with people,” said Peyton. “I spend every day in the sun instead of lurking in the shadows of a seedy bar!”
Tristan wandered over to them, confused at the commotion. “What’s going on? You dated this woman’s son?”
“A while ago,” Peyton confirmed.
Donna tapped her foot, unconvinced. “If you want to call ‘a while ago,’ the same thing as up until a few months ago.”
“That’s when we got together.” Tristan looked at Peyton, his forehead crinkled and his eyebrows furrowed. “When did you stop dating Bentley?”
“I wasn’t cheating on him with you, if that’s what you think,” said Peyton.
“When did you stop seeing him?”
Peyton crossed her arms defensively. “A week before I met you.”
Hurt was written all over Tristan’s face. “I’m a rebound?” He touched his nose. “I got this nose ring for you.” Tristan dramatically stomped away, his head bent to the floor.
“It’s fake!” Peyton called after him. “It cost you less than five dollars!”
Peyton turned to Donna. “Thank you. Thank you so much for ruining another one of my relationships. What a wonderful person you are.”
She ran off in the direction that Tristan had gone in.
Donna stomped away, upset that her appearance hadn’t gone according to plan. “You will pay me,” she said to me. “You’re not getting out of it just because my son is dead and you have flimsy information on me.”
Maybe not, but that “flimsy information” was working perfectly well. At least well enough to buy me some time. I’d have the money ready at the deadline and then all of this would officially be over. I couldn’t wait.
Landon immediately sought me out, his former distance gone.
“Are you okay?” asked Landon with wide eyes. “That was crazy.”
Landon’s salesman attitude was turned off. He was being completely genuine. Landon was genuine as a salesman, as well, but he would still be trying to sell something. This Landon was selflessly concerned for me.
“I’m fine. It all worked out,” I said. “Paying off my debt was never going to be as simple as winning a contest.”
The corners of Landon’s eyes crinkled. “Winning those pirate contests was anything but simple. And, speaking of which, this doesn’t look as good as the pirate costume you whipped up, but I thought this might come in a close second place.”
I surveyed his jeans and tee-shirt, confused for a second, until I noticed the name tag on his chest. Human, it read.
“It’s not exactly keeping with the theme, but it’ll do,” I said with a wry smile.
“I stopped by to tell you that I have a meeting with Clare in half an hour. I’m giving her my decision on whether or not I’ll accept the job offer.”
I felt a twinge of nervousness in the pit of my stomach. “What are you going to say?”
Landon opened his mouth, but before he could answer, he was interrupted by Maya rushing up to us.
“Alana! The shrimp!”
“What?” I asked as Landon touched my shoulder. “I have to go.” He gave me a lingering look and then disappeared into the crowd before I could stop him.
I craned my neck to see where he went, as if knowing the direction he was walking in would give me answers. Was he going to take the job and stay in Hawaii? What if he didn’t?
“The shrimp! The wonderful, wonderful shrimp distracted me. I couldn’t stop Donna from entering the party. I should have had a bouncer or a guest list or—”
I cut Maya’s worrying off. “It’s fine. It was a conversation that needed to happen and now everything’s taken care of. Or, it will be, at least.”
Maya wasn’t convinced. “Shrimp would be my downfall,” she mu
ttered.
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” I chided. “The music is good. The party is a success, even with a minor blowup,” I said.
“Minor?” asked Maya with a wry smile. “My speakers decided to not work, but fortunately Madison had a speaker in her car, so I’m borrowing hers. The quality’s not as great as what it would have been, but it works well enough.”
“As long as it keeps working,” I said. “It was having technical difficulties at the costume contest.”
Maya shrugged. “It seems to be fine now,” she said as I noticed another newcomer arrive at the party. This guest, however, was a welcome addition.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want a repeat of my interaction with Donna.
I waved to Henry Chang, who immediately came over to us. A red-and-white striped bandana was tied around his head and he had a fake sword tied to his hip. He was also wearing Maya’s rubber hook hand.
Henry outstretched his hook hand arm and gracefully spun Maya into his arms. They slow danced in place, with Maya’s back resting against his chest.
“It looks like a prime spot for the classiest of murderers and thieves,” said Henry.
Maya burst out laughing. “It’s classy now that you’re here. It definitely wasn’t a few minutes ago.”
Henry stroked his mustache. “I see. Bandanas and swords are much more elegant to you than a tuxedo. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Maya looked horrified at the idea. “No! There was a… I’ll explain it to you later. Have you tried the shrimp yet?”
“What? Where are those delicious crustaceans?” Henry asked excitedly.
Maya and Henry strolled off, arm in arm, as I noticed Natasha Silva walking by the party. I quickly hurried to catch up to her. Bentley Barber’s folder on Natasha didn’t add up to the story she gave me. That concerned me. If she was lying about her association with Bentley, then what else was she lying about?
It was time to get some answers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Natasha!” I called out, catching up to her.
“Follow me,” she answered, heading to the front desk. “I’m on shift.”
Once we got there and Natasha was situated, I drummed my fingertips on the desk. “You lied to me.”
Natasha immediately got defensive. “I won the treasure hunt fair and square. You’re not taking that away from me.”
“No, not that,” I said. “It’s about Duncan. You said the two of you were on good terms. You claimed that he was involved in Abigail’s life. But that’s not true, is it?”
Natasha’s face fell. “How did you find out?”
I felt betrayed by Natasha. Was believing someone going to be my downfall?
I should have gotten proof, like Maya had said.
Natasha had seemed so genuine, though. I couldn’t believe I had been lied to. I thought I was good at spotting the truth.
Apparently, I wasn’t.
“Does it matter?” I folded my arms. “What’s the connection between Bentley Barber and Duncan? You said Duncan showed you the messages that Bentley sent from your phone, trying to mess up your relationship with Duncan.”
Natasha let out a hollow laugh. “He did show me them. Bentley said things in those messages, when he was pretending to be me, that I would never say. Duncan knew something was off, so he came to me. We really did reconnect—at first.
“Duncan was remorseful and apologetic about not being around for Abigail. He promised he would do better for her. But he hasn’t seen Abigail since the day he came over. Duncan is still behind on child support payments. I don’t think he’s even on the island anymore. It was all talk for him. Just like it always is.”
Natasha looked at me with pleading eyes. “I work all the time. I barely get to see my daughter as it is. We are doing much better now, but I’d never get to see her if I was sent to prison for a murder I didn’t commit. I panicked when you started asking me all those questions. I was afraid that if I said the wrong thing, I’d get accidentally implicated. It’s stupid, I know. But after everything I’ve worked so hard to get, I had to protect my life.
“So, I said those things about Duncan to make it seem like I had no grudge against Bentley. I didn’t want to look like a viable suspect. That would have ruined me.”
I had to admit, I felt relief upon hearing her account. Not about her unreliable ex, but that she had a decent reason for lying. I wasn’t sure that I would have done differently in her situation.
Someone came up to the front desk with a question just then, so I thanked Natasha for her time and left her to do her job.
I stood on the mosaic turtle displayed on the lobby floor, gazing out the expansive windows for a minute. I couldn’t take in the deep navy sky and twinkling stars like I wanted to. There was too much on my mind.
Approaching footsteps caused me to turn around. Clare Tran, on her way out of the hotel, paused when she saw me. “Alana, good to see you. I’m heading to a wonderful location to stargaze. It comes highly recommended.” She was thoughtful. “Would you care to join me? I’d love to have a fellow appreciator of the finer things in life. We could make an evening out of it.”
That sounded amazing. Stargazing with someone who liked the stars as much as I did?
I couldn’t bring myself to accept her offer. I was too preoccupied. I couldn’t even look at the sky from the windows—and I loved the view from Sandy Turtle.
With Natasha fully in the clear, my suspect list was narrowing itself down. But, unfortunately, I was also running out of suspects. Who killed Bentley Barber?
The question was killing me.
“I can’t,” I said reluctantly.
I glanced behind Clare, hoping to catch a glimpse of Landon. He was nowhere to be seen, though. He must have gone back to his room.
I wanted to ask Clare if Landon took the job, but I couldn’t work up the courage.
Investigating a murder? No problem. Asking about a guy?
Aargh. Much harder.
“Perhaps another time,” said Clare. “Have a nice night!”
And I lost my chance.
“You too,” I said as Clare departed the hotel.
I walked over to Blue Hawaii, not in the mood to rejoin the pirate party. It was a slow night, with not many customers. It made for a cozy atmosphere, with the thick embrace of the humidity and the relaxing sounds of waves crashing on the beach.
Kimo was pouring a drink for a customer as Peyton and Tristan came into the bar, arm in arm, with bright smiles. Their earlier fight was long forgotten and Tristan’s fake nose ring was still in place.
Peyton came to the counter to order drinks.
“You and Bentley, huh?” I asked cautiously as I handed her a couple beers.
Peyton glanced at Tristan, who was scouting out the best table in the sand. “Bentley was supposed to be a summer fling last year. It needed up lasting for a while before I broke things off. I even moved here for him.” She looked at me. “Bentley’s mother was insane, but Bentley himself wasn’t. He made poor business decisions and I tried to get him to quit being a loan shark. It turned him into a man I didn’t recognize. When Bentley and I were together, just the two of us, we wouldn’t have a care in the world.
“But I didn’t like how he acted at his job. He said he’d quit and find another line of work, but he never did. I’d finally had enough and told him it was me or his money.”
“He picked the money?” I asked, not unsympathetically.
“People were replaceable to him. Money was his true love.” Peyton shrugged. “That’s his loss. Tristan’s dramatic and flighty, but he’s quick to forgive and he doesn’t care about getting rich. As long as he can pay for a roof over his head and food in his belly, he’s satisfied. I like that.”
She tucked some cash into Blue Hawaii’s tip jar. “You and I have had our own disagreements and I’m sorry about that. I tend to get wrapped up in what I’m doing and I don’t realize I could be hurting others. I’m tryi
ng to work on that.”
“I appreciate that,” I said.
Peyton carefully grabbed the beers as Maya entered the bar.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Maya slid onto a stool. “Is my party not good enough for you?”
I gave her a look. “You know that’s not true. Where’s Henry?”
“He had to leave for work.” Maya sighed. “I expected some rambunctious behavior when I threw a party for a bunch of pirates. But who knew the most pirate-like behavior would come from an ordinary citizen?”
“Donna Barber is hardly ordinary,” I said.
“That’s an understatement, for sure.” Maya smoothed her blouse as she glanced around Blue Hawaii. “I wish my parents could see this place. They would have loved knowing that you followed through on chasing your dreams.
“You did the same,” I said.
“You were the dreamer, not me. I’m the practical one. I make plans and stick to them.”
“That’s kind of the same as dreaming,” I said. “Just a more structured version of one. Your parents would be so proud of you.”
She touched her pendant necklace. “They would have loved the pirate convention.”
I propped my elbows onto the bar counter. “Remember the time I convinced you that taking your mom’s new boat out was a good idea?”
Maya groaned. “Why did we have to be drinking Blue Hawaii’s? That blue dye took forever to clean off the deck.”
I laughed. “We were so drunk on Blue Hawaii’s.”
“You kept making them! Even when you could barely walk in a straight line, you still made a mean drink.” Maya shook her head. “I still can’t believe you named your bar after that drink.”
“We spent that night under the stars and dreaming about our future,” I said, remembering the cool breezes, salty air, and the way too many Blue Hawaii’s I had downed. “I wanted my bar to be the same. Just because I achieved one dream doesn’t mean that I don’t have others. Plus, everyone who comes into the bar has dreams.”
Maya gave me a sidelong glance. “You sound like you’ve been drinking a Blue Hawaii.”
Murder and a Blue Hawaii (A Blue Hawaii Mystery Book 1) Page 13