Dying for a Daiquiri

by CindySample

  “Was it drugs?” I asked.

  “Let’s just say he was taking care of a “financial” transaction for his older brother. Timmy’s father passed away two years ago. After losing Joey, Timmy couldn’t bear the thought of something also happening to his brother, Mike, his only remaining relative. Mike had been hanging out with a bad crowd. Timmy swore he and his brother will never get involved in illegal deliveries again. It’s not easy for these young guys, but I’ll be there if he needs someone to talk to.”

  “He’s lucky to have someone like you,” I said. “By the way, did Timmy ever confess to pushing me overboard?”

  Steve looked sheepish. “He came clean but I’m still not certain how to handle his confession. He saw you struggling with the life vests and went to help. A gust of wind knocked him into you, and then you went over the railing. He was completely freaked out, but before he could say anything, Rafe noticed you in the water. Between Timmy’s previous threats to Keiki and his other illicit activities, he was afraid you as well as the authorities would assume he’d pushed you on purpose. Since you were rescued so quickly, he decided to keep mum. He asked you to please forgive him.”

  “I knew it was Timmy,” I cried, feeling vindicated in my assumption. But with so much tragedy occurring in the young man’s life recently, I couldn’t bear to be responsible for him going to jail for an inadvertent push.

  “Tell him I’ll forgive him if he promises the next time he knocks a passenger overboard, he’ll confess a lot earlier.” I hugged Steve good-bye and was pleased that nary a body part tingled at his touch. My hormones had finally gotten their act together.

  It was getting late and I wanted to see Tom before visiting hours ended. I didn’t know if he would be well enough to travel home the next day with the rest of us.

  When Stan, Mother, and I arrived at the hospital, a nurse informed us Tom had already checked out and returned to the hotel.

  “Such a shame he left so soon,” she confided. “His George Clooney eyes were so distracting I almost forgot to unplug his IV before he left. Do you know if he’s on the market?”

  I informed her Tom was not on the market. He had a girlfriend, one who couldn’t wait to be in his arms. I just hoped he felt well enough to put his arms around said girlfriend.

  Stan played chauffeur which played havoc with my nerves. He insisted on driving under the speed limit so we could savor our last night on the island. I had mixed emotions about returning home. I couldn’t wait to see my children. But much as I enjoy working at Hangtown Bank, experiencing life on the island and meeting people who’d had the courage to pursue new careers had me thinking.

  And where did Tom and I stand? Who would decide when and if we would take our romance to the next level?

  “You seem fidgety, honey,” Mother called from the back seat. “I sense it has something to do with Tom.”

  Is she perceptive or what? Or are all mothers of adult children intuitive about their grown-up kid’s needs?

  I twisted in my seat and peered into the back of the car. “I guess all the marital melodrama of the last few days has me wondering if I’m ready to be in a relationship. It obviously takes a ton of work to keep a marriage on solid ground. Maybe I should stick to reading about romance instead of trying to maintain one.”

  “Reading is fine,” Stan interjected, “but it’s no substitute for the real thing.”

  My mother leaned forward and patted me on the shoulder. “When it’s right, you’ll know. Trust me.”

  Trusting my mother was easy. Trusting my own instincts was the real issue.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  My phone beeped as I inserted our room key into the door. I pulled my cell out of my purse and checked my three new text messages, all from Tom.

  Message 1: You made the news once again.

  Message 2: Are you okay?

  Message 3: I’m lonely.

  I grinned at the last message. Did Tom truly miss me or was he missing the excitement of his normal life, juggling Kristy and his career? And an occasional date with me. I dialed his cell.

  “So now you’re catching a killer a day?” He laughed. “What are you going to do when you return home? Join the Sheriff’s department?”

  “I think I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet of underwriting loan files. At least no one ever wants to kill me at the bank.” I stopped then amended my statement. “Unless I reject their loans. So what happened with you? I thought your doctor insisted you remain in the hospital another night.”

  “Lee called to check on me. I think it bothered him that a Hawaiian hostage situation resulted in the shooting of an out-of-state police officer. He offered to spring me from the hospital and sent someone to bring me back here. Of course, that was before you and Dave tackled Amanda and screwed up Lee’s day. Nice throw, by the way.”

  I giggled, relieved Tom sounded so chipper. I was also relieved all the island drama that had tormented us was over.

  “Did Amanda’s confession make the local evening news?”

  “Not just the local news. They’ve been re-playing your tackle and her confession during commercial breaks all afternoon. Not to mention national news. Jimmy Kimmel thinks you’re a hoot!”

  I plopped on the bed and slipped out of my shoes. “Jimmy Kimmel? Must be a dull news day.”

  “Maybe. Is Amanda as cuckoo as she sounds?”

  “More than you can imagine. I think she’s still hoping the callers will vote for her despite her arrest. If Detective Lee hadn’t commandeered her phone, she’d be tweeting from the cellblock.”

  “Enough about that wacko. Right now, I’m imagining that I’m holding you in my arms.” His low baritone warmed my heart and every nerve in my body.

  “Do you feel well enough for me to come up for a few minutes?” I asked. My heart was pounding louder than the music playing in the poolside bar down below.

  “Please.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  I spent an hour making myself presentable for Tom. My skirmish with Amanda had added bruises to the tie-dyed collection left over from my ATV incident. Although considering Tom’s somewhat precarious medical condition, it wasn’t likely he would be privy to any of my battle scars.

  Would he? I mulled over his comments and wondered how perky he felt. Was the island working its magic on the homicide detective or was I working my own magic on him? Did my crazy escapades turn him on? Or off?

  I knocked on Tom’s hotel room door then realized he’d left it propped open. I didn’t want to be responsible for his medical condition worsening, so I planned to stay a few minutes then return to my own room.

  “Tom,” I called out softly. I pushed the heavy door open before closing it behind me. Tom sat in bed, leaning against the headboard, his leg propped up on two overstuffed hotel pillows.

  For a guy who’d been shot less than thirty-six hours earlier, he looked darn good. He’d even managed to get some sun. Lying on the stairs of the zip-line tower with noontime rays beating down on your bloodied body is one way to get a tan.

  I raced to Tom’s side then stopped, afraid any sudden movement would result in a 911 call. I kissed his forehead and perched on the side of his bed.

  Tom grabbed my hand and held it, neither of us talking for a rare minute.

  “Did you know it sometimes takes a near-death experience to open a person’s eyes?” he asked me.

  “This entire vacation has been an eye-opener for me,” I said. “Wondering and worrying about the difficulties of maintaining a relationship.”

  His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. “So after what you’ve encountered this week, you’ve decided the difficulties aren’t worth the reward?”

  I looked away as I contemplated his question. “No. What I’ve learned is that a couple has to keep the channels of communication open at all times.”

  Tom rubbed my thumb and my nerve endings jumped around like a game of Tiddlywinks.

  “Do you think you and I are ready to make that channel
a two-way street?” he asked.

  I hesitated then nodded. He bent his head down. As our lips met, the connection felt like more than just the heat of lust or passion. It felt right.

  Tom drew me close and draped his left leg over mine. I pulled back for an instant afraid I might hurt him.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, breathing hard, my head nestled against his chest.

  He stroked my hair lightly. “I have never felt better.”

  “I don’t want to do anything to make your injury worse.”

  His deep laugh and response was all I needed to hear.

  “Haven’t you ever heard that old expression––no pain, no gain?”

  THE END

  LAUREL’S FAVORITE TROPICAL COCKTAILS

  Laurel decided to hold a blog contest for daiquiri recipes and other tropical concoctions. A committee of cocktail connoisseurs sampled the recipes and proclaimed these very tasty winners.

  THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN (Christine Hyde and Robin Ylitalo)

  Fill a champagne flute halfway with your favorite champagne

  Add one shot Malibu Rum

  Add orange juice to below rim

  Top with Grenadine

  PAMA-TIKI (Sherry Joyce)

  ½ oz. PAMA Pomegranate Liquer (Pomegranate juice works too)

  1 oz. white Rum

  2 oz. pineapple juice (Fruit for the day)

  1 ½ oz. sweetened coconut milk or cream of coconut (good for your bones, not your waistline

  Pour mixture in a tall glass filled with crushed ice. Add pineapple wedge for garnish. Turn on beach music, close your eyes and lay on the floor. You’ll end up there anyway!

  PEACH FUZZ (by Linda Lohman)

  Into a blender add:

  1 6oz can frozen lemonade

  a cup or two of ice

  sliced ripe peaches (to the top of the blender)

  1 6oz can Captain Morgan’s Spicy Run

  LAUREL’S FAVORITE DAIQUIRI RECIPES

  HEMINGWAY DAIQUIRI (as modified by Heather Haven)

  1 1/2 oz light rum

  1/2 oz maraschino liqueur

  1/2 oz grapefruit juice

  3/4 oz fresh lime juice

  1/2 oz simple syrup*

  2 dashes grapefruit bitters*

  *optional

  I admire Ernest Hemingway for many reasons, and second to none is his love for the cocktail. Add to ice in a shaker and shake that kitten until it purrs. Pour into a martini glass and add a toothpick with a grapefruit section and a maraschino cherry on it. Yummy!

  THE DAIQUIRI TO DIE FOR (Peggy Partington)

  One bottle of Rum (light or dark)

  One lime

  Two shot glasses or just a straw

  One tropical beach

  One handsome young man with six-pack abs

  Put them all together and enjoy!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Many thanks and hugs to my critique group for their astute observations, unfailing support and willingness to answer hundreds of emails from me: Kathy Asay, Pat Foulk, Rae James, and Terri Judd. Thanks to friends who were willing to read the early drafts and provide excellent suggestions: Bonnie, C.J., Carole, Donna, Ed, Jana, Jonathan, Kristin, Liana, Linda, Lisa, Lynne, Mary Beth, Michele D. and Michelle K.

  A special mahalo to everyone on the Big Island of Hawaii. A big thank you goes to Lt. Gerald Wike, Criminal Investigations, and Chris Loos, Media Relations for the Hawaii Police Department. I appreciate the advice I received from the staff at Kona Zip-line, Les at Ride the Rim ATV, Brenda and Joy at Kona Stories, and Lili Alba for her hula and tour assistance.

  The support and encouragement I receive from my fellow Sisters in Crime (Sacramento and Northern California) and the authors who belong to Sacramento Valley Rose, California Writer’s Club and NCPA keeps me motivated when my spirits flag.

  I am extremely grateful to Ritz Naygrew and Stacey Leung-Crawford for their generous donations to the Sacramento Library Foundation, and to Steve Bohannon and Glenn Hakanson for their donations to the Sacramento Opera. I enjoyed creating all of your characters.

  Thanks to my editors, Kristen Weber and Kathy Asay, and my wonderful cover artist, Karen Phillips, who created so many great choices for my Daiquiri cover contest. Who knew we would receive advice from over 350 participants.

  And last, but certainly not least, thanks to those fans from around the world whose emails make this journey so much fun.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Although Cindy Sample’s initial dream was to be a mystery writer, she put aside her literary longings for a weekly paycheck, landing a job as a receptionist. Her career eventually led to the position of CEO of a nationwide mortgage banking company.

  After one too many corporate mergers, Cindy found herself plotting murder instead of plodding through paperwork. Her experiences with on-line dating sites fueled the concept for her first mystery, Dying for a Date. The sequel, Dying for a Dance, a finalist for the 2012 LEFTY award for best humorous mystery, and winner of the 2012 NCPA best fiction award, is based on her adventures in the glamorous world of ballroom dancing. Cindy thought her protagonist, Laurel McKay, needed a vacation in Hawaii and thus Dying for a Daiquiri was created. Never has research been so much fun.

  Cindy is past president of the Sacramento chapter of Sisters in Crime. She has served on the boards of the Sacramento Opera and YWCA. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Romance Writers of America.

  Cindy has two wonderful adult children who live too far away. She loves chatting with readers so feel free to contact her on any forum.

  Check out www.cindysamplebooks.com for contests and other events.

  Connect with Cindy on Facebook and Twitter

  http://facebook.com/cindysampleauthor

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  Email Cindy at cindy@cindysamplebooks.com