Dying for a Daiquiri

by CindySample

  I shook my soggy curls. The salt air must have invaded my brain. I clasped my hands together and prayed to whichever Hawaiian god could turn off this massive spigot of rain.

  I wasn’t sure if any of the local gods heard my plea, but the rain halted as abruptly as it had begun. The ominous storm clouds shifted apart and a brilliant full moon shone upon the dark water. The man in the moon had never looked so appealing.

  A faint noise caught my attention. I squinted and spotted what looked like a small boat heading in my direction. Hallelujah.

  I would be rescued in minutes. Unless––

  Suddenly I realized the boat aimed directly at me. I waved my arms back and forth and shrieked louder than a stadium full of Justin Bieber fans. Within seconds, the roar of the motor ratcheted down to a purr.

  The lights on the twenty-foot vessel blasted me in the face and I screamed again. The boat shuddered and stopped less than six feet away.

  I heard someone yell, “Man overboard.”

  Technically, he was wrong, but this didn’t seem the time to go all women’s lib on him.

  “Help,” I yelled. I paddled and thrashed my way to safety. No one would ever compare me to Michael Phelps, but I reached the side of the boat without anyone having to dive in and rescue me.

  A long hairy arm reached out. I grabbed on to a calloused palm and gratefully let its owner yank me into the boat. Unfortunately, he wasn’t completely successful in his mission.

  Maybe it was time to lay off those cream-filled malasadas.

  With my torso stretched across the interior of the boat and my legs dangling over the side, the men decided more assistance was in order. They each grabbed one of my arms and successfully hauled me aboard.

  Not a minute too soon. The sound of an enormous fish bouncing its snout against the side of the boat startled us. I stared as the grandson of Jaws displayed a set of teeth that would have scared my dentist into retirement. He flipped his sleek body around, and with one last flick of his fin against our boat, swam away.

  I lost it. I stuck my head over the side of the boat and heaved everything I’d consumed that day. Including those macadamia nut pancakes.

  One of the men handed me a handkerchief from his shorts pocket. “You are one lucky wahine.”

  I threw him a weak smile as I wiped my face. “I’m luckier than I was a few minutes ago. You saved my life.”

  “Probably. You were this close to being that fella’s dinner.” His wizened face cracked into what probably represented a smile for him. He reached into a small cabinet and handed me a thin blanket. “Here. The water temp isn’t that cold, but we don’t want you going into shock.”

  I was already shivering so I gratefully wrapped the wool blanket around my sodden body.

  My other rescuer started the engine and we headed toward the pier.

  “By the way, my name is Glenn Hakanson,” said the man sitting next to me. He pointed to the gray-bearded man at the wheel. “And that’s Phil. Now who are you and how in the blazes did you end up in the ocean?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to run into the fishermen before they ran into me. It turned out that Glenn and Phil had been so successful hooking a big fish that they’d stayed out later than usual and then got caught in the sudden storm. I not only bonded with the men but also with their other chunky passenger. The dead tuna glared at me as if he held me personally responsible for Glenn and Phil turning him into someone’s ahi dinner.

  As we motored toward the pier, I noticed a large boat that looked a lot like the Sea Jinx heading in our direction. Someone must have noticed my absence after all. Glenn got on the radio and within a few minutes, he’d connected with Steve. They decided the fishermen would deliver me directly to the pier, which they considered a safer option than handing me off at sea. I was in favor of anything that lessened the odds of me landing in the ocean again.

  We arrived at the Kailua Pier shortly after the Sea Jinx docked. Several Hawaii fire department vehicles were parked in the loading and unloading area. Although it was reassuring to know they’d noticed my absence, I still questioned if someone intentionally pushed me overboard. If Phil and Glenn hadn’t come along when they did, my shark-mangled body parts might not have been discovered until they rolled in with the surf.

  Glenn tied up his boat, the aptly named Survivor, at the dock. He and Phil helped me climb up onto the pier. The Sea Jinx passengers were disembarking, some of them looking a lot greener than when they’d first boarded. As we drew closer, I spotted Timmy among the departing tourists. I shouted his name. Timmy turned and his eyebrows rose to his hairline when he saw me. He ran off and disappeared behind the ticket building.

  At the sound of my voice, Steve looked up, his expression confused. When he recognized the curly-haired woman dressed like a soggy burrito, he dodged around the passengers and ran toward the three of us. Steve scooped me up in a hug and spun me around the dock.

  When he finally put me down, he kept my still-trembling hand gripped in his large comforting one. “I was so worried about you. What happened?”

  Members of the Search and Rescue team joined us. “Are you okay, Miss? Do you need to go to the hospital? We can get you there in a flash.”

  I shook my head and droplets of water spewed everywhere, making me feel as attractive as a wet dog. Between my salt-water dunking and over-the-side stomach cleansing, I looked and smelled worse than a sodden Schnauzer.

  “I’m fine.” No sooner had I uttered those words then I sneezed three times.

  “You should get checked out.” One of the men eyed me up and down. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell in?”

  My eyebrows drew together as I frowned at him. “I didn’t fall in. I was pushed.”

  Steve dropped my hand. “Pushed? What makes you say that? I assumed you slipped on the deck and fell overboard.”

  “Nope, I was definitely pu…” I hesitated and thought back to those moments before I ended up in the ocean. “Well, I think someone pushed me. It’s all kind of a blur now.”

  “You’ve had quite a scare,” said one of the rescue workers. “It might be a few days before you remember what actually happened.”

  “You’re lucky these fishermen found you,” his partner added. “It could have taken us hours to locate you. There are some mighty unfriendly creatures in the ocean.”

  As far as I was concerned, there were unfriendly creatures on Steve’s boat. Although I’d have to admit I’m not the most graceful person in the world. A big gust could have blown me overboard.

  But if that was the case, why did Timmy run away when he spotted me?

  The rescue personnel walked away to update the Coast Guard on my safe return. I spun around and scanned the pier. Most of the passengers had dispersed, but the crew and entertainers should still be around.

  “Have you seen Walea and Henry?” I asked Steve.

  “I think they’re packing up their stuff. Do you want to talk to them now?” he asked. “Don’t you want to get back to the hotel and get cleaned up?”

  Hmmm. Not too subtle. I guess my eau de ahi scent wasn’t exactly a man magnet. I noticed Walea and Henry walking down the gangway. Her hands moved rapidly as she spoke, although not in the graceful style she used when she performed. It looked like they were arguing.

  I broke away from Steve and ran toward the couple, huffing as I drew closer. My few minutes thrashing in the ocean must have depleted my oxygen supply.

  “Walea,” I yelled, hoping to catch them before they disappeared.

  She dropped her garment bag and stared at me as if I was a ghostly apparition.

  Did Walea or Henry push me overboard? If so, they’d be better off facing a ghost than the wrath of Laurel McKay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “You’re alive,” Walea cried out.

  “You seem surprised.” I wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders as my eyes shifted from Walea to her husband. Henry set his ukulele
case on the dock, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Despite his calm demeanor, his hand trembled as he shoved the lighter back in his shirt pocket.

  “You should go back to your hotel. You could catch cold.” Walea picked up her oversized tote and nudged Henry with her elbow. He grabbed his instrument, and the couple headed toward the parking lot conversing in hushed tones. Was it my sashimi scent that sent them away? Or the surprise of seeing me alive again?

  It was too bad my son wasn’t here. His selective bionic hearing would come in handy since my own ears felt plugged with salt water. Someone screeched my name, and I turned back to the boat.

  Amanda raced down the gangway and threw her arms around me. “We were so worried,” she trilled. Evidently someone who studies marine life isn’t put off by someone who smells like it.

  I later learned that Rafe had heard a splash and thought he saw someone in the water, but by then the boat had moved on. He went below to see if any passengers were missing and it dawned on Amanda that I was nowhere around. When they couldn’t locate me, Steve realized I must have fallen overboard and called 911. He’d immediately turned the boat around to search for me.

  Amanda gave me one more hug then took off. The rescue team again offered to drive me to the hospital but I declined. I’ve never met a hospital that didn’t have a predilection for sticking pointed objects into their patients. After coming within inches of turning into a shark shish-ka-bob, the last thing I needed was to have a gaggle of nurses and doctors poking and prodding at my waterlogged body.

  I heard someone calling my name and turned to see Stan scurrying toward us. I smiled at my friend as he rushed across the dock toward Steve and me. I’d forgotten that he’d offered to pick me up since his dance lesson was scheduled to end about the time the Sea Jinx docked.

  Stan halted a few feet away, his nose twitching as if he’d discovered a bushel of overripe bananas. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”

  “You’re close. But it’s more like something the boat dragged in. I fell overboard.”

  “OMG. Sweetie, you could have drowned.”

  Yeah, I could have been annihilated in a variety of ways.

  “She had a close call,” Steve said. “But Laurel’s a real trooper.” He grabbed my hand as the three of us headed toward the parking lot. Stan discreetly walked ahead. Although it would have been more subtle if he hadn’t been humming, “Can You Feel the Love Tonight.”

  All I could concentrate on was returning to the hotel to a hot bath and a cup of hot tea. And my mommy. No matter how old you are, or how many children you’ve birthed, there’s nothing like having your own mother pamper you after a bad day.

  Especially if your day involved someone possibly trying to kill you.

  Steve apparently had his own ideas of how to perk up a waterlogged woman. As we reached the ticket building, he pulled me into the shadows. I immediately tensed, but my tension disappeared when he planted a sweet kiss on my lips. My blanket fell to the ground as Steve wrapped muscular arms around me and drew me close. With the blanket no longer draped around me, Steve’s hard-as-a-rock body nestled against my wet, covered-with-a thin tablecloth curves.

  The Sea Jinx captain definitely knew how to make a woman perk up.

  * * *

  With Steve’s heated good-bye kiss coursing through every vibrating nerve in my body, my brain shifted into overdrive on the ride home. I leaned back in the passenger seat and contemplated the surprise kiss as well as my near-death experience.

  Since Stan doesn’t agree with the philosophy that silence is golden, he interrupted my reverie the minute we reached the highway.

  He turned to face me. “Okay, give.”

  “Hey, watch the road.” Why do so many drivers feel the need to make eye contact with their passengers when they converse? Hadn’t Stan noticed all the flowers in front of memorials lining both sides of the Queen Kaahumanu Highway?

  He pulled his gaze back to the road. “So what exactly happened? I want to know everything. Right up to that smooch Steve planted on you.”

  Can’t put much past my pal.

  I relayed the events of the evening beginning with my conversations with both Walea and Timmy and ending with my sudden dunking and subsequent rescue.

  Stan shuddered. “Gosh, you are one lucky woman.”

  “Or one unlucky woman,” I muttered.

  “Are you certain someone pushed you?”

  “I can’t be one hundred percent positive.” I tried to remember what happened on the boat before I landed in the water, but all I could recall was my harrowing time floundering in the ocean.

  “Did anyone act suspicious when you reappeared?” Stan asked, shifting into investigative mode.

  I thought about it. “Walea looked startled to see me, but she was below deck with Amanda and the passengers when it happened, so she couldn’t have pushed me. Henry seemed nervous when I turned up. I have no idea where he was when I went overboard. And Timmy bolted the second we made eye contact.”

  Stan’s head swiveled ninety degrees as he stared at me.

  “Eyes on the road,” I said.

  He returned his gaze to the highway, which thankfully wasn’t as busy as it normally is. “What do you mean Timmy ran away?” he asked.

  “After I climbed up on the dock, I noticed Timmy walking away with the passengers. When I called out his name he took off. That’s when Steve and the rescue guys spotted me. They raced over and asked a zillion questions. When you showed up, I forgot to mention Timmy’s weird behavior to Steve.”

  “You need to tell the police. First, Timmy threatened Keiki a few days before her death. Then he warned you to back off. Minutes later you were fighting for your life.”

  “Yeah.” I shivered remembering my brief terrifying stint in the ocean. “But Henry could have pushed me in as well. Shoot, one of the tourists might have come upstairs in search of a cocktail refill, accidentally bumped into me and been afraid to admit it.”

  “Speaking of Henry and Walea, you haven’t asked me about my dance lesson,” Stan said.

  No, I’d been too caught up reminiscing how I’d almost died an hour earlier.

  “So how was it? You still have your hair and limbs so I gather sword and fire dancing weren’t on the agenda.”

  “Ha ha. Wait until you see what I can do with a fire baton.”

  Oh, dear. I could only imagine, but I held my tongue. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t just fun and games. Don’t forget I was operating undercover.”

  I wasn’t certain how my slightly-built fair-haired friend could run a covert ops among the huge Samoan dancers, but I went along with his delusional detecting daydreams.

  “Learn anything helpful?”

  He nodded but kept his eyes front and center. “Just call me Magnum PI. I told the guys what a tough vacation this had been for our group, what with Keiki’s death and Regan’s arrest. It didn’t take long for me to learn that her former boyfriend took it hard when Keiki dumped him.”

  “I discovered her boyfriend was Timmy’s brother,” I said. “He seemed really angry toward Keiki. Thinks his brother committed suicide because of her. That his death wasn’t an accident.”

  “According to the troupe, Joey was a terrific dancer. He and Keiki started dating a few years ago. They performed together quite a bit when they were a pair.”

  “Did she date any of the other guys in the troupe?”

  “Not that they mentioned, but she could have. These guys are buff-o! When they get oiled up…” Stan paused. “Oh, well, a guy can dream, can’t he?”

  “Never stop dreaming,” I replied, ever the optimist. Someday Stan would find his Mr. Right. “Did anyone mention any other potential suspects?”

  “Supposedly Keiki told Joey she was now seeing an older man. A guy who could provide her with the lifestyle she felt she deserved. Joey was so upset he told his pals he followed Keiki’s car a couple of times, wanting to find out who’d repla
ced him.”

  “Joey followed Keiki?” Could he have been the possible stalker Keiki had mentioned to Steve? “Did Joey see who she was meeting?”

  Stan nodded.

  “Wonderful. You did some great investigating. Was it anyone we might know?”

  Stan’s hands clenched on the steering wheel, but he kept his eyes on the road as he shared the new information.

  “Your brother.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Stan delivered my bedraggled body directly to my hotel room, where my mother ministered to my every need. Nothing tops a warm bath and room service, consisting of a cheeseburger, onion rings and chocolate cheesecake, to assist in a near-drowning recovery process. You couldn’t ask for more, although even after I devoured the food on all three plates, I still tasted the lingering kiss Steve and I had shared.

  When I awoke the next morning, my muscles felt stiff and sore. Black, blue and purple spots speckled my body like a Jackson Pollock painting.

  After the previous night’s experience, it was nice to receive some positive news for a change. Dave called to tell us the police were releasing Regan. He had no idea if they needed more evidence to pursue a case against her or if the detectives uncovered another suspect. I was thrilled she would be free.

  I had almost as many questions bouncing around my overactive brain as I had black-and-blue marks on my body. Questions for both Regan and my brother. Especially after Stan’s revelation about Joey spying Dave and Keiki together on several occasions. Did those encounters have anything to do with her murder? Just because Joey spotted Dave and Keiki at locations outside of the restaurant didn’t automatically make Dave the mystery man she was dating.

  Tonight I would get Dave alone, no matter what it took, and find out the true relationship between him and the dancer. And hopefully find out more about Keiki’s stepsister and brother-in-law. Someone was hiding something, and I had the bruises from last night’s deep-sea plunge to show for it.