Dying for a Daiquiri

by CindySample

  Dave slumped in his chair. “I don’t know where to turn right now. I’m too exhausted to spend another night arguing with Regan, and now I’m not sure about staying here.”

  “Why don’t you come back to my hotel? I’m sure Stan would let you bunk with him.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “C’mon, the worst that can happen is Stan will talk your ear off all night.”

  “Or lend me his clothes.” Dave snickered as he stood and followed me back inside the condominium unit.

  I was relieved Dave retained his sense of humor. I couldn’t imagine the stress he’d been under since the discovery of Keiki’s body less than six days ago. Dave gathered his things while I loaded our dirty dishes in Steve’s dishwasher.

  Even suspects deserve to come home to a tidy kitchen.

  We stepped into the elevator, which chugged down the three floors to the lobby. I could have made better time walking down the stairs. And if we’d taken the stairwell, we also wouldn’t have been so surprised when we reached the ground floor.

  The doors opened with a clang, followed by an “oh shit” from my brother.

  Steve looked as surprised as I felt. “Where are you two going? Dave, aren’t you spending the night?”

  Dave froze in place, eyes wide. Lips silent.

  Great. He picked a heck of a time to relinquish his big brother “I’m in charge” status to his baby sister.

  “My mother was anxious to see Dave,” I explained. “She’s been beside herself with worry so we’re going back to the hotel.”

  Steve looked surprised. “Did you get a room there?”

  “No, I’ll stay with Stan,” said Dave.

  That comment made Steve’s blond eyebrows merge into a bushy question mark. “Okay, buddy, whatever you want. It’s too bad ‘cause I invited some friends over for a poker game. I thought it might lift your spirits to hang with us. But I’m sure you’ll have an interesting time hanging with, um, Stan.”

  “Maybe next time,” Dave replied. “This week has been pretty tough on Mom.”

  “Sure, I get it. Hey, Laurel, can I have a word with you?”

  Dave and I exchanged looks, but he waited while Steve and I walked out to the open-air lobby.

  “I’m worried about your brother,” Steve said. “He told me about some of the stuff he shared with the cops. I hope the information won’t put him in any danger.”

  So did I. Especially danger from the friend he’d shared the information with.

  “I don’t know who Keiki’s murderer is, but they aren’t getting near my brother.”

  Steve put his arm around my shoulder and drew me close. I swear I am the worst detective in the world. Here I was ready to put the guy in jail and throw away the key, and he still made me tingle.

  I drew away from Steve. He looked perplexed but let me go. “So how will you keep Dave occupied for the next couple of days?” he asked.

  I nibbled on my lower lip. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Liz arranged an ATV tour of Waipi’o Valley tomorrow morning so we’ll try to include Dave.”

  “That should be a great trip. I wish I could join you, but we have a morning snorkel sail.”

  Steve’s comments and actions seemed so normal I decided my suspect meter must be broken. There was no way such a nice guy could kill anyone.

  Dave called out. “Hey, Laurel, let’s get going.”

  I said goodbye to Steve and joined my brother. As Dave and I walked to the parking lot, I looked back. Steve was talking on his cell, frowning, as the doors of the elevator closed.

  Dave took over the driving detail, which was fine with me. I realized that I’d been up since five this morning. Dave must be equally exhausted since he’d only slept a few hours in his cell. I replayed my conversation with his friend in my head.

  “I can’t imagine Steve as our killer.” Dave echoed my thoughts.

  “Me either.” At least, I preferred that someone who kissed me was not a killer.

  “You know if the cops don’t come up with any other suspects, they can arrest me again.”

  “What kind of evidence do they have?”

  Dave shot a glance at me then returned to stare at the dark and almost empty road ahead.

  “In my opinion, a lot of the evidence is circumstantial,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “How about your lawyer’s opinion?”

  “I guess it depends if the Prosecuting Attorney thinks she has a sufficient case against me.”

  “So share. What do they have?”

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Well, like I said, some people––I don’t know who––saw me in town with Keiki those couple of times. It’s not like we were trying to hide our meetings.”

  “They must have more than that.”

  “There is. An opened bottle of beer with my fingerprints was sitting on the rock wall, but it probably got missed when we cleaned up. The police also ran tests on those pieces of broken glass they found on the lava rocks below the restaurant. They got the results back and it showed something.

  I gasped. “Like drugs?”

  “A type of drug, I guess. They tested it, and it turned out to be Ambien.”

  “The sleeping medication? Do any of your bartenders or servers use it?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea if any of my employees use it. Unfortunately, I do.”

  My head swirled with Dave’s new revelation. “So Keiki was poisoned?”

  “They weren’t originally sure if her death was an accident, suicide or murder. But the toxicology results showed that Keiki had Ambien in her system. Enough to put a dance troupe to sleep.”

  “Lots of people take Ambien. That’s very circumstantial evidence.” I loved the sound of that word “circumstantial” rolling over my tongue. Made me feel like I almost knew what I was doing.

  “I think that’s one reason they didn’t feel they had enough hard evidence to charge me with murder––yet. Although Detective Lee stated that Walea pointed an incriminating finger at me. She claimed Keiki had a rendezvous arranged with her boss.”

  “You didn’t meet Keiki, did you?”

  He shook his head. “No. But when I arrived home after the reception, Regan and I got into it once again. She accused me of sleeping with Keiki, and I denied it. Then she stormed into the bedroom, slammed the door and went to bed, I guess. I watched TV awhile then went for a walk. Thought the night air might clear my head.”

  “Heck of a time for a stroll,” I muttered, shaking my head at my alibi-less brother. On the other hand, his eyelids remained twitch-free. It appeared he was telling the truth.

  “Hey, it’s Kailua, for Pete’s sake. This is as safe a town you can live in as anywhere.”

  Unless you’re a hula dancer caught up in some nefarious activity.

  “I guess if you were gone, Regan could have met Keiki at the restaurant and slipped Ambien into something she ate or drank.” I glanced out the window at the passing scenery wondering if I should ask Dave the question that kept nagging at me. “Do you honestly think your wife could be the killer?”

  “I don’t know what to think. Ever since Ritz wangled this deal with the Bride and the Bachelor show, Regan’s been wound tighter than a championship yo-yo.”

  “Was she stressed enough to fight with Keiki over you?”

  “My wife can accomplish anything she sets her mind to,” he replied. “Even murder.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Saturday morning arrived far too early. I stumbled into the bathroom and stared at my bleary eyes. Once I returned home to Placerville, I would need another vacation to recover from this one. It seemed wrong to go on the ATV outing when we should be detecting, but it was the excursion I’d most looked forward to since we’d first planned this trip. Plus I felt my brother could use a break after his horrendous week.

  The island brochures described the Waipi’o Valley as beautiful, serene, and a sacred area in the Hawaiian culture. With vista
s 2,000 feet above the valley floor, twin waterfalls and a black sand beach, it was a guaranteed once-in-a-lifetime experience. Unfortunately, the only way to experience the beauty was to drive a four-wheeled all-terrain vehicle, or ride a four-heeled all- terrain horse.

  The guys chose the gas guzzler, of course.

  I yawned and followed the scent of coffee brewing in the miniature coffeemaker. I poured a cup then joined my mother on the lanai. She put down her magazine and stared at me. My hair was so wild and frizzy I was surprised the tiny yellow songbirds that greeted us each morning hadn’t moved in and turned my head into a vacation nest.

  “You look like crap,” she commented, but in her usual elegant manner.

  “Mahalo, Mother.”

  “Honey, maybe you should stay behind and rest. We’re only here until tomorrow. Don’t you want some time relaxing on the beach?”

  “I’d like to spend a month lying on a chaise lounge with a daiquiri by my side, but that’s not going to happen either.”

  “Did you and Dave come up with any brilliant deductions last night?” Mother asked.

  I dumped a packet of sugar in my cup, sipped some coffee then opened one more packet. “Nothing other than the realization he can’t trust anyone outside of our family.”

  “I hate to fly home and leave him all alone to fend for himself,” she said. “Even though he was released, he’s on the front page of the morning newspaper. The police stated the case is still an open investigation. Do you think that means they could arrest him again?”

  “According to Dave, yes, they could.” I stared at the distant ocean view. “How would you feel about extending our stay a few days?”

  “I was going to suggest it myself. Why don’t I skip the ATV ride and stay behind to change our reservations? Will your children mind if we’re here a few more days? What about the bank?”

  “The kids will be fine. They dote on their grandfather and he’s probably spoiling them to death. And work won’t be an issue.”After saving the president of Hangtown Bank’s reputation last year, I had a feeling he could spare me for a few extra days.

  Although I’d worried about taking the ATV excursion when we should be investigating, Dave was thrilled to take the tour. Especially after he stopped at the restaurant and discovered reporters hoping to get an interview with a recently released murder suspect. We all agreed the break would be good for him.

  Winding our way through Waimea cowboy country, we passed cattle farms and horse ranches set against the backdrop of snow-topped Mauna Kea. If I squinted, I could even see the world’s largest astronomical observatory perched atop the 13,796-foot summit.

  The rolling hills at this high elevation reminded me of the California gold country, except this tropical terrain received far more rain, leaving the hills greener than the finest emeralds. On my next trip to Hawaii, I was packing my cowboy hat and boots for a little Paniolo riding on the range.

  I only hoped that any return trips to this beautiful island would involve a relaxing vacation and not a visit to my brother in a Hawaiian prison.

  At the ATV tour center, our small group along with some other patrons mounted our red four-wheelers. Les, our friendly guide, demonstrated the use of the hand brakes and throttle, which seemed easy enough. We lined up in a straight formation, behind our leader. Although I’d never driven an ATV before, the instructions appeared fairly simple. I’d recently piloted a snowmobile. How hard could it be?

  I strapped on my helmet, grabbed the handlebars and got ready for the ride of a lifetime.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  My first thought: I’m going to die!

  My second thought: I’m going to die without ever having sex again.

  That realization woke me from the fog of sheer terror that engulfed me when I realized my ATV was only a few feet away from crunching into a massive eucalyptus tree. I swerved to squeeze in between two gigantic trees, and my back tire nipped a palm on the right.

  Thud! The tree I’d whacked attempted to return the favor by clobbering me with one of its coconut projectiles. It missed by a couple of inches. How did I get this far behind the rest of the group? And why weren’t they looking for their missing friend?

  I weaved my vehicle between a few more trees and finally reached a grassy meadow and scenic viewpoint where the rest of the tour group waited.

  “What happened to you?” Liz asked, as I rolled to a stop next to her.

  “Me?” I said. “Which way did you guys go?”

  Stan pointed to a wide trail rutted with tire marks.

  Oh, so that was the trail.

  “I took an alternate route,” I responded.

  The tour guide snorted and Liz rolled her eyes.

  “You’re supposed to stay with the group,” Liz said. “We weren’t sure what happened to you until we heard you playing bumper cars with the trees.”

  Everyone’s a critic.

  The guide motioned for our group to follow him. I attempted to do a U-turn and discovered ATV’s aren’t that maneuverable. By the time I circled back, I was stuck at the end of the line again with a bunch of strangers. This time I would remain close to the group. The last thing I wanted was to find myself alone on one of the many trails leading in and out of this immense valley.

  The clouds that had threatened to drench us all morning finally let loose. The patter of rain sounded like elves tap-dancing on my helmet. My eyelashes were working overtime blinking away droplets of water. I wondered if anyone had thought of installing windshield wipers on the helmets.

  The trail seemed mushier by the minute. Tiny puddles rapidly turned into small streams. I knew that the all-terrain vehicles would not have any difficulty maneuvering in the mud. I, on the other hand, was not an all-terrain woman. I gripped the handlebars as if my life depended on it. Ahead of me, the riders reduced their speed to a crawl. A misty fog hovered over us as we reached the higher elevation of the rim overlook. The next time I visited the Waipi’o Valley I was bringing my yellow slicker and carrying a thermos of hot chocolate in my backpack.

  I pulled alongside the other riders. Stan lifted his visor and shook his head in bemusement. “Looking a little raggedy, darling. You do know the visor goes down to cover your face.”

  I knew it now.

  “I bet this ride is beautiful when it’s not raining.” I peered into the mist and pointed to the left. “Is that the waterfall over there?”

  Stan squinted. “I think so. What a shame about the weather. We’ll have to come back another time.”

  Yesirree. We’d have to do that for sure. I parked the ATV and wandered over to listen to Les. He pointed to a few distant landmarks, including the waterfall and the black sand beach far below, but the falling rain made it difficult to see them clearly. On a normal day, we would ride down to a small pool where the group could frolic and swim. Since the weather wasn’t in a frolicsome mood today, everyone agreed with his decision to return to the center.

  We loaded up in single-file formation. I ended up in the rear again with a rider behind me who was smart enough to bring raingear. It was comforting to have someone following me. I wouldn’t have to worry about being stuck by myself if something happened to me or my machine.

  The sooner this expedition ended, the happier I’d be. We might even arrive back at our resort in time to get in some last minute beach time. I visualized the perfect afternoon––lying on a lounge next to the ocean with my Kindle in one hand and a daiquiri in the other. And since it was a daydream, I visualized a hunky guy next to me––a guy with… with…I was so deep in thought trying to decide if my dream date was a blond, blue-eyed sea captain or a police detective with Godiva-brown eyes, that I didn’t notice the ATV on my preoccupied tail.

  Wham! My tush lifted in the air from the jolt of a machine ramming my vehicle. With a drop of over a thousand feet on my right, this was no place for an overly anxious driver. The trail was so slick, I was afraid to speed up to try to get away. I also didn’t want to risk any backward
glances checking on the rider behind me. Maybe he would realize his mistake and drop back.

  Bam. The vehicle slammed into my back right tire. The jolt sent me flying off my ATV. I landed on the slick grass and began sliding. Down, down, down.

  Right over the rim.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The beauty of the flora and fauna in Hawaii never ceases to amaze me. Another wonderful attribute is the hardiness of the foliage. As I tumbled down the side of the mountain, my flailing arms managed to latch on to a thick green vine. I sucked in huge gasps of air while I clung with both hands to the remarkably sturdy plant.

  I breathed deeply, trying to calm my stomach, which had catapulted up to my throat the moment I was airborne.

  I had no idea if the rider who crashed into me was still in the area. Did he do it on purpose? Talk about road rage. And where did my own machine run off to? Had it crashed into a tree or even worse––another rider?

  I yelled and screamed to no avail. The group was probably miles away by now. Would anyone realize I was missing before it was too late? Did Les keep track of the riders? Tears rolled down my muddy cheeks as I realized I was hanging from a cliff.

  Alone and on my own.

  Where was a blue-eyed or a brown-eyed hunk when I needed one? Although at this point, I would take a cross-eyed, cross-dressing hunchback if he could haul me back up the mountain.

  Get a grip, Laurel. Or, at least, maintain the one you have. Thank goodness for my broken corkscrew back home. If it wasn’t for my weekly fight with the wine cork, the biceps in my right arm would never have been strong enough to hold on until help arrived.

  If it ever arrived. I shifted so I could look around to get my bearings, but the movement caused my left knee to scrape against some jagged rocks. The vine I clung to dropped a few more inches. A couple of stones bounced down the hill, pummeling my arms and legs.

  The stalk of the plant drooped lower and lower and so did I. My tenuous grip was loosening, and I had no idea if the plant could continue to support my weight.