“Come in and join me,” I said.
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”
“I get that. But you love the water, right? Why not take a night swim? I promise I’ll stay five feet from you at all times.”
I could see her thinking it through in her head - I barely know this guy, I’ve thrown his best friend in jail for murder, what the hell am I even doing out here with him? But I wasn’t going to give up just yet.
“Okay,” I continued, “I’ll stay six feet away from you.”
“Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes and a few seconds later I heard her enter the water. She waded over to me and kept those six feet between us. Alana suddenly went underwater and after a few seconds she popped back up. She held her head back and her long, wet hair fell behind her shoulders.
“You’re the first person I’ve brought out here,” she said.
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I hope you got some good photographs tonight,” she continued
“Is that really why you brought me here?” I asked.
She didn’t answer me. I suddenly started to think it was something in addition to the case that was bothering her. I debated whether to ask, but I thought I knew what it was. It had to be an ex. The case had tossed Dorothy from my mind, but I could still remember the fresh pain when I pictured her. The pain takes a long time to go away. Was that what Alana was feeling too? I noticed the physical distance between us had closed considerably. I don’t remember moving towards her in the water. Maybe I had done it subconsciously. Maybe we both had.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said.
I was only a foot from her now. I reached out to her and ran my fingers through her wet hair.
“This can’t change anything about the case,” she said. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I replied.
I leaned forward and kissed her gently. Eventually it became more aggressive between us. I reached behind her and ran my hands over her bottom. Much to my delight I found she wasn’t wearing anything. She returned the favor by rubbing her hands down my back. I lifted her up slightly and kissed her breasts. They were small and firm. The sensation of my mouth on her was even beyond what I thought it would be. She moved her hands in front of me and gently took hold of my penis. I stopped kissing her and buried my face into her hair. Then I kissed her neck. We kissed for a few more minutes while she continued to stroke her hand back and forth. I reached under her bottom and lifted her up completely. I carried her onto the beach and we lay down together on the sand.
I kissed her neck again and she opened her legs for me, and I entered her. She was so tight and warm. We moved together perfectly. Afterwards, we lay on the sand and looked up at the moon. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sound of the waves. The warm breeze rushed over my naked body. I forgot about all of my concerns.
CHAPTER 19
Dreams of Mermaids
I crawled into Foxx’s place sometime in the middle of the night. I wouldn’t swear to this in a court of law, but I’m pretty sure it was around three a.m. I had sand-burn on my knees and elbows. I never did find my underwear. I think it washed away with the tide. I collapsed face-first on the sofa and dreamed of mermaids.
In my dream I was lying on the beach with the warm sun on my face. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle movement of ocean waves. Two women suddenly emerged from the water. They looked remarkably similar to Halle Berry and Elizabeth Hurley. With any luck, I was about to become a mermaid sandwich. It was paradise.
Then I heard what sounded like a coconut falling on a cement block. Then another coconut. And another. How the hell was someone supposed to sleep in this racket?
“Edgar!”
I pried my head off the sofa and opened one eye. I thought I saw a blurry Alana banging on Foxx’s sliding glass door.
“Edgar, are you all right?”
It was Alana. I stumbled off the sofa and dragged myself to the door.
“Good morning,” I mumbled, trying desperately to wake up.
Alana looked at her watch.
“Actually, it’s noon. Are you okay? I called twice this morning to see if you made it back all right.”
“You did? I must have been out cold. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was. I’d give you a kiss but my mouth tastes like I swallowed my socks.”
“Thanks for the image.”
“Hold on a second. Let me take a quick shower.”
I dove into the swimming pool and swam the length of the pool underwater. I came to the surface, feeling somewhat refreshed, but not much.
“Hey, have you heard of a guy named George who used to be Bernard’s assistant?” I asked.
“I think I may have met him once. Why do you ask?”
I climbed out of the pool, dried off and led her into the house. I told Alana about my conversation with George. I even showed her the nude photographs of Lauren. I expected Alana to be thrilled with what I believed was an important discovery. Once again, though, my knowledge of women, or lack of knowledge, I should say, proved to be a hindrance. Alana’s expression immediately turned sour.
“Why didn’t you show me these last night?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t want talk of Lauren Rogers to ruin our date.”
Alana let out a small sigh and looked down at her feet.
“I was afraid this would happen.”
“Afraid of what?” I asked.
“How could I let my personal feelings get in the way of an investigation?” Alana seemed to be asking herself this question. I didn’t think she expected or wanted an answer from me.
“Alana, it’s not a huge deal.” In retrospect, I should have followed my father’s often-repeated advice of keeping your mouth shut whenever you find yourself in an argument with a woman. More than likely, she’s already convicted you of something and anything you say or do will probably only cause your stock to drop farther. I should have immediately begged for forgiveness, but at this point I was generally confused about what I should be begging forgiveness for.
“Not a huge deal?” Alana repeated my statement. “Edgar, you kept evidence from me.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m showing it to you now.”
“Now, but you should have given these to me last night.”
Alana didn’t return the photographs. Instead, she tucked them under her arm and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To find George.”
“Can I go with you?” Again, in retrospect, this was a really dumb thing to ask.
“No.” Alana looked me in the eye. The kindness and warmth of last night was all but gone. It was as if I was talking to a completely different person. Did she regret last night? Had we moved too fast? Was that the real reason she was backing off now?
“Edgar, I don’t think we should see each other again until this investigation is over.”
“But by then I’ll be headed back to Virginia.”
“Then I guess it was never meant to be.”
Alana left.
I stood there, stunned. What the hell had just happened? I felt like I had been hit by a runaway truck. We both enjoyed last night, at least I think she enjoyed it, and we weren’t hurting anyone. Still, Alana had raised an issue I didn’t want to think about. Virginia was my home, and I would be leaving the island soon.
But not before I got Foxx off the hook. With Alana’s help or not, I was going to find the real killer.
CHAPTER 20
An Interesting Connection
As I mentioned earlier in this little adventure, I always desired to solve a real-life murder mystery. But now that I was smack in the middle of one, I was doing anything but enjoying it. My friend’s future was on the line, and I was feeling woefully inadequate.
I had interviewed several possible suspects and didn’t have one piece of solid evidence against any of them. I thought back to the Jodie Fos
ter movie “Contact” in which she discusses Occam’s Razor with Matthew McConaughey. The popular theory states that the simplest explanation is probably the correct one. Of course, by that standard, the police had already caught the guilty party. But if I believed in Foxx’s innocence, which I did, then the next most-likely suspect was Nick James. He had one of history’s most compelling reasons to want Lauren dead: money.
I had done a lousy job of my initial interview with Nick, and I knew he wouldn’t be interested in talking to me again. Besides, there probably wouldn’t be any useful information to be gained from a second interview. I knew I needed to learn more about Nick, though, so I decided a decent course of action would be to follow Nick, at a discrete distance, of course, and see if anything interesting developed.
I parked my car across the street from his art gallery and was prepared to wait all day for him to come out. But, as fate would have it, I only waited fifteen minutes before Nick exited and made his way for a black Porsche. He hopped in the car and peeled out of the parking lot. So much for the idea of Hawaiians moving at a leisurely pace. Nick’s license plate read SEALIFE, so spotting him in traffic wasn’t a difficult task.
I followed Nick for several miles to a marina. He got Hollywood parking right beside the dock. You’ve heard of Hollywood parking, haven’t you? It’s when the protagonist always manages to find an empty parking space exactly where they need it, whether it be a restaurant, museum, airport, you name it. In real life, we mere mortals are forced to park two blocks away.
I parked in the back of the lot, just close enough to see Nick walk down the dock and be greeted by two men wearing wet suits. They both shook Nick’s hand, and Nick followed them on board the boat. I pulled a pair of binoculars out of the glove compartment and aimed them at the back of the boat, which was called SEALIFE. So Nick owned the boat, too.
Then something really interesting happened. A black motorcycle pulled up several spots from Nick’s Porsche. The driver removed his helmet. It was George, all right. I wondered if Alana had had a chance to talk to him yet about the nude photographs. Of course, George’s arrival wasn’t what was so interesting. It was the fact that he walked down the dock and hopped onto Nick’s boat. Nick greeted him with a hug. A hug, that, by my rough estimate, lasted approximately two seconds too long.
I didn’t think George and Nick were related. Was there more to their relationship than friendship? I was probably being paranoid, but shouldn’t I be paranoid, given the circumstances?
What’s the big deal, you might ask? Probably nothing. But the only men I hug are family members, and even then I usually don’t. There was the time I hugged the burly stranger in the sports bar when Michael Jordan hit the last-second bucket to win the Bulls’ sixth championship. But that doesn’t count. I certainly don’t mean to imply that I’m making any judgments on Nick and George possibly being gay. On the surface, I couldn’t care less. But if Nick and George are involved, is it possible George was pointing the finger at Bernard to get Nick off the suspect list? Had George been the one to kill Lauren on Nick’s behalf?
My cell phone rang, and I just about jumped through the ceiling of the car. Spying on people certainly makes one edgy.
I answered the cell phone. “Hello.”
“Poe, this is Gina, Xavier’s wife.”
“Oh, hello Gina, how are you doing?”
“Just fine. I was calling to let you know that Xavier would like to schedule your session for tonight.”
“My session?” I asked.
“Yes. You recall Xavier offered to contact Queen Hatsheput to see if she can help with your friend’s situation.”
Situation, I thought, that’s a polite way of putting it.
“Tonight will be fine,” I responded. “Just let me know where and when.”
“He always does his readings here at home. The pyramid helps to channel the energy. As far as the time, I wouldn’t show up before midnight.”
“Did you say not to show up before midnight?” I asked.
“That’s right. Xavier’s a night owl.” There was an incredible warmth in her voice as she discussed her husband.
“Okay, Gina. Thank you, and please thank Xavier. I’ll see you two tonight.”
“By the way, Poe, please feel free to bring a friend along. The more people, the more energy Xavier can tap in to.”
I hung up the phone and stared out at the marina. Nick’s boat was pulling out of the dock, and there was no telling when he’d be back.
I decided to drive back to Foxx’s house and take a much needed nap. I felt somewhat guilty for sleeping on the job, but I doubted much could be accomplished with a brain that was massively sleep deprived.
For a second I contemplated calling Alana and telling her about the séance with Xavier. That’s what you’d call it, wouldn’t you? A séance. I decided against telling Alana though because I thought we could both use some space. Still, would she accuse me of withholding more information from her?
That’s the problem with relationships. Half the time you never know what the other person wants. Make that 99% of the time. Here I was, fresh out of a bad relationship and jumping right into another tense situation. Maui was supposed to be a relaxing, carefree time. It had become anything but.
CHAPTER 21
Confronting Bernard
When I reached the next major intersection, I found myself subconsciously turning left instead of right (which would have taken me back to Foxx’s) and heading over to Bernard’s studio to ask him about the nude photographs. There was a good chance I’d run into Alana over there, but I didn’t care. Actually, I probably did care quite a bit, but I don’t want to make myself sound too much like a wimp.
I felt a great deal of apprehension upon driving to Bernard’s studio. The man was an emotional and physical wreck, and I didn’t relish the opportunity to interrogate him, even if it was to be a gentle interrogation. Still, the nude pictures might be connected to the murder, and I had to follow up on it. Mental note: determine the connection between George and Nick James. Did Bernard know anything about his former assistant’s love life?
I pulled my car into the empty parking lot and walked to the side of the house where the wooden staircase was. There, on the bottom of the steps, was Bernard, his neck twisted at a gruesome angle. I ran up to him and quickly felt for a pulse. Bernard’s flesh was still somewhat warm to the touch, but his eyes bulged out in a horrible, wretched gaze. It’s as if they were screaming. I know that probably doesn’t make any sense, but I doubted I would ever be able to erase that look from my memory.
I called 911 on my cell phone and waited by the car. What is it with me and finding dead bodies lately? It took about twenty minutes for an ambulance to arrive. They confirmed the obvious. Bernard was gone.
A few minutes later, Alana appeared. I stood away from the scene at a respectable distance. Alana glanced briefly my way and then headed directly over to Bernard’s body. She kneeled down beside him and gently closed his eyes. I didn’t know what to do or say.
Alana spoke with the paramedics for a minute or so and then walked over to me. She was doing a commendable job holding back the tears, but it looked like there was a good chance they’d break through the floodgate at any moment. I was afraid she would channel her sadness over Bernard’s senseless death into anger at me for being there. I guess that’s a pretty selfish thing for me to think of, but I couldn’t help it.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” I said. “I know how much he meant to you and your family.”
“Thank you. Was he like that when you arrived?”
“Yes. I felt for a pulse but otherwise didn’t disturb anything.”
“I’m not even going to ask what you were doing here,” she said. “And don’t tell me you were here to schedule a photo shoot.”
Alana looked back as the paramedics lifted Bernard’s body onto the stretcher.
“I just saw him two hours ago,” she said.
“I thought you were goi
ng to talk to George.”
“I couldn’t get a hold of him, so I came by to speak to Bernard about the photographs.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He denied taking them.”
I didn’t want to ask her if she thought her deceased friend had been lying to her.
“They looked a lot like his style though,” she said.
Alana turned and headed towards the wooden stairs just as the paramedics stretched a white sheet over Bernard’s body. I thought I knew what she was going to look for, so I followed her up the steps and into the studio.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” she said.
“I just want to help,” I responded.
“Do you know how much trouble I could get in?”
“Look, I definitely don’t want to get you into trouble. I just want to help solve this case. You have to admit the sudden appearance of those photographs was a bit too coincidental.”
She hesitated a second, then said, “Fine, but if you find anything-”
“You’ll be the first to know,” I said.
Bernard had not done any cleaning since our last visit, including the maggot-filled Chinese food containers. The smell was just as intolerable, but I didn’t notice it quite as much. Maybe it was due to my eagerness to find the film negatives.
Alana searched the studio while I looked in the connecting dark room. The dark room was just as messy as the rest of his studio. There were containers of stop bath, developer, and fixers (all used in the development and printing process), and boxes of Ilford photography paper. I was very familiar with the Ilford paper. It was the brand we had used in the photography class. Still, something about the paper struck me as odd, but I couldn’t quite place it at the moment.
“I found them,” Alana called from the other room.
I ran back into the studio and saw Alana standing in front of a large pile of black and white photographs. She was holding up a sheet of negatives to the light.
Aloha Means Goodbye Page 10