I turned my order in to Poncho, who had burgers going on the grill along with fries and something else I couldn't identify. He moved to the counter and began slicing open a pineapple with a sharp butcher knife. He saw me watching and gave a conceited smile. "You see? This is why I use so many pineapples. Everyone comes here for my famous salsa. There is never enough." He whacked the fruit with vigor, and I jumped. "But will Hale give me a raise? No. Unappreciative jerk." He glanced at my order. "Not bad, girlie. You may work out after all."
I flashed him a smile of relief.
The rest of the evening went smoothly. The café closed at nine, but we weren't finished cleaning up until almost ten. Poncho was a compulsive neat freak when it came to his kitchen, and the only thing I was allowed to do was sweep the floor and empty the dishwashers. Since we had no busboy, Vivian and I cleaned tables, both the inside and outside ones. Lola was in the kitchen with Poncho.
"Bet she leaves before us," Vivian whispered to me. "That's all right. I'll ream her butt out when she gets home."
"Are you guys roommates?" I asked with interest.
Vivian shook her head furiously. "No way. She's only staying with me for a few days. Lola has a basement apartment, and one of her rooms got flooded in a recent storm. I felt sorry for her and stupidly offered her my place to crash for a few days, but now I'm sorry I did. Lola's a slob, and she brought tons of stuff with her, afraid some of it might get damaged if left behind. Hello, storage locker anyone? My place is tiny. Plus she brought her cat." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
Her face looked so comical that I fought a sudden urge to laugh. "Are you allergic?"
"No, but I hate cats. My father had one when I was little, and she bit me when I tried to pet her. I even had to get stitches. Forget that crap. Give me a goldfish any day."
I chuckled as I listened to her, hoping it would divert my thoughts from the searing pain in my legs. I had thought today might be a bit easier on my feet, but no such luck. Still, I would need to learn how to adapt if I wanted to keep the job. My head pounded, and I was starving. How the heck did Vivian and Lola make this work look so darn easy?
Loud, angry voices were heard coming from Hale's office. Vivian ran into the kitchen and a minute later came back out to report. "Poncho's up there, and he doesn't sound happy."
Lola emerged from the kitchen, a large leather bag slung over her slim shoulder. "Time for me to head out. I'm meeting Jack for a quick bite. Then I'll be home. Should I bring you back some Chinese food?"
"Yeah, that would be great," Vivian said. "It would have been even better if you'd helped me and Carrie clean off the tables though."
Lola cut her eyes from Vivian to me, as if I was responsible for Vivian's sarcastic remark. "Look, I was cleaning out the fridge, okay? By the way, Poncho said there's a pineapple in there in case anyone wants to take it home."
"Why isn't he using it tomorrow?" Vivian wanted to know.
Lola rolled her eyes. "Said it felt a bit soft to him. You know how he is. Everything has to be perfect. Bring it home, and we'll use it to make daiquiris."
Vivian sighed. "Not tonight. I'm too tired."
"Suit yourself. Later, girls." Lola turned and exited through the patio door.
Vivian snorted. "She makes me nuts. Sure, we could have daiquiris if I made them, and then I'd get stuck cleaning out the blender. Too much effort. I'm going with wine and TV reruns tonight, thank you very much."
Before I could respond, we heard someone running down the stairs. A second later, Poncho pushed his way through the swinging doors, backpack in hand. He didn't even bother to acknowledge us as he charged past at a fast and furious pace. The glass front door that led to the lobby slammed so hard I was positive he must have broken it.
"What was all that about?" I asked.
"I only heard bits and pieces," Vivian said. "He told Hale he wanted more money or else. Poncho should know by now it's a losing battle. I don't know why he stays here. A man with his talent could go to any five-star restaurant." She lowered her voice. "I think Hale has something on him."
I was intrigued. "Like what?"
The doors to the kitchen opened, and Keanu appeared. "You ladies all set out here?"
Vivian picked up her purse. "Yeah. I'm hightailing it out. See you both in the morning." She winked at me. "Good job today, kiddo. You're doing really well."
I smiled. Maybe I could do this after all. "Thanks for your help."
Keanu and I were alone. He smiled at me, almost hesitantly. "I've got my moped outside. Do you live close?"
"Our apartment is in town," I said. "It's only about a fifteen minute walk."
"Is your boyfriend coming to meet you?"
I wondered why he seemed curious about Brad then reminded myself that it didn't mean anything. He was probably just being sociable. "No. He's gone out with some friends."
Keanu frowned. "You shouldn't be walking by yourself. I know the path is well-lighted to town, but it's no trouble to give you a ride."
I was tempted to say yes. My legs ached and could use a rest, but it probably wasn't a good idea, especially if Brad happened to see us. I didn't know if he'd actually be jealous because I'd never given him a reason to. Still, if I saw Brad arriving home on the back of an attractive girl's moped, I would not be very pleased.
"Actually, I'm looking forward to the walk. I think it will help me sleep better."
He smiled but didn't argue with me. "Well, okay. Are you working tomorrow?"
"No idea. I guess I'll have to check with Hale."
He leaned forward on the counter. "Tomorrow's Friday, and since it's a popular day at the resort, I'd say it's a safe bet. If Hale's got you working the same shift as Vivian, it will be twelve to nine. He may ask you to come in a little earlier though. Probably the same with Saturday. That's our busiest day of the week, especially with the band and karaoke hour during dinner."
My heart started to pound against the wall of my chest. "You have karaoke here?"
I must have sounded a bit too excited, because Keanu grinned. "You like karaoke, huh?"
I emitted a high-pitched squeal. "Love it." I was relieved that he didn't ask if I was any good, because the jury was still out on that one. I loved to sing, period. Books and music had kept me occupied as a child when I'd had no one else to turn to. I longed to have a career in theater, maybe even a star part in a Broadway musical someday. Okay, I realized that was stretching things a bit, but it was a dream that had provided solace and comfort to me during many lonely hours while growing up.
We heard footsteps on the stairs, and a minute later, Hale emerged from the kitchen. He nodded to Keanu as he punched a code into the register, and the drawer opened. He started scooping bills into a zippered bag. "See you in the morning, Keanu. Miss Jorgenson, you're scheduled from twelve to nine tomorrow, like today. Lola is working from eight to five, so she'll cover lunch breaks for you and Vivian."
"Okay."
"Before you leave tonight, go over to The Lava Pot and bring me back a Mai Tai. They'll charge it to my account. Make sure you use the back entrance when you return. I'm locking the doors so that no one from the resort will be able to enter. Or, you can come in from the patio entrance. I always leave both doors unlocked until I leave."
"I'll grab the drink for you," Keanu offered.
Hale glared at Keanu. "Is your name Miss Jorgenson? No, I don't think so." He turned his full attention back to me. "Don't be long. I think we'll need to have another little chat when you get back."
Oh no. Me, alone with that sleaze? Now what was I going to do?
Keanu was silent as he opened the patio door for me, and didn't even bother to say good night to Hale. Apparently no one was off-limits when it came to Hale's humiliation tactics.
When we were outside the café and out of earshot, Keanu touched my elbow. "Come on. I'll show you where The Lava Pot is. I have to go in that direction anyway. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
The truth was no, but
I nodded anyway. I didn't want to be alone with Hale. "Wh-what do you think he wants to talk to me about?"
Keanu ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure, but I did overhear him tell Poncho that the register came up short by a hundred dollars."
My mouth went dry. "I'm no thief, Keanu."
He nodded. "I believe you. Seriously, who knows with him? Hale may have made it up so he could be alone with you. Look, I can wait around outside the café if you need me."
What a sweet gesture, and I almost took him up on it. "It's all right. No job is worth being in constant fear of your boss. I'll bring him his drink, and if he tries something, I'll take off."
Keanu drew his lips together in a thin, firm line as he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a pen and an Aloha Lagoon business card. He jotted a number down on the bottom of it and handed it to me. "This is my cell. Call if you need anything, okay?"
Despite the fact that my insides felt hollow, I managed a smile. "Well, do you happen to know anyone who's hiring? But seriously, thanks. If I don't see you again, it was nice working with you, albeit briefly."
Keanu started to say something then stopped. He continued to watch me with a thoughtful expression. "I hope I will see you again, Carrie."
He walked down the path to a small parking lot, got on his moped, and then turned and gave me one last look. The engine roared to life, and the bike sped off out of sight.
I exhaled a long, nervous breath. All right, let's get this over with.
There were a few people sitting at The Lava Pot's outside tables on the boardwalk, laughing and enjoying themselves, drinks in hand. I didn't see any staff around, so I went through the glass-paneled doors that led to the inside bar area. There was a young man behind the bar filling an order, and others were waiting.
I blew out a sigh and shifted my weight from one sneakered foot to another, trying not to be impatient. I already knew that Hale didn't like to be kept waiting. Oh well. He was probably going to fire me anyway, so what difference did it make?
After a few minutes, the bartender smiled at me. He was cute, with light brown hair, and probably a few years older than me. "Hi, I'm Casey. What'll you have?"
Ah, this was the guy Vivian had been drooling over. You had to love a man with an English accent in Hawaii. "Hi, I need a Mai Tai for Hale Akamu. Could you charge it to the Loco Moco's account?"
Casey's smile faded. "Are you a new employee there?"
"Yes, I'm Carrie."
He shook my hand and then grimaced. "Well, you have my sympathy."
Good grief. Was there anyone who liked my boss?
I had my drink shortly afterward, scribbled a signature on the receipt Casey placed in front of me, mumbled a thank-you, and then shuffled my way back down the boardwalk and through the sand. I made it a point to be extra careful so as not to trip and upset the almighty's beverage.
The urge was great to stop and watch the palm trees swaying in the warm breeze, but I knew that wasn't a good idea. I glanced at my watch and figured that Hale was probably already steamed I'd been gone fifteen minutes. My hands began to shake, and I quickened my pace. Was Hale planning on firing me because of the money, or simply looking for an excuse to be alone with me? The thought was enough to make my skin crawl.
As the rear of the café came into view, I noticed the lights were out inside. A shiver crept down my spine as I stepped onto the patio and reached for the door handle. Maybe I should just keep walking back to my apartment. What if he grabbed me when I went in? I poised myself, ready to throw the drink in his face, and cautiously pushed open the door. Hale was inside no doubt, waiting to pounce on me in the dark. Sick pervert.
I stood in the doorway. "Hale?"
There was no answer.
Goose bumps dotted my arms as I flicked the switch on the wall, and the main room of the café became flooded with light. Still, Hale was nowhere to be seen. Well, if he thought I was going upstairs to his office, forget about it. I didn't need any job that badly. I'd leave his beverage by the register and take off.
I walked behind the counter and placed the glass next to the napkin holders and salt and pepper shakers. It was then that I noticed that one of the swinging doors to the kitchen was slightly ajar. I squinted closer, trying to determine what was holding it open.
A man's black moccasin was in plain view, resting on its heel. Part of a black pant leg could be seen as well.
Maybe Hale had gotten sick? Had he slipped on the wet floor that Vivian had mopped before leaving? No, that was more like something I would have done. I drew closer and peered around the edge of the door into the kitchen. I gave a sharp gasp, and my clammy hands gripped the wood for support.
Hale was lying on his back inside the door, a steady stream of blood flowing from his chest. There was blood spattered on the walls as well. A page from an order pad had been pinned with a butcher knife to his chest. Directly above the Have a nice day! someone had scrawled PIG in large block letters with a black marker. A piece of pineapple hung out of his open mouth, while his vacant eyes were open and staring upward at the ceiling.
I looked down at my feet and whimpered. The blood was starting to pool around my white sneakers, and the bottom edges were turning red as a result.
The café turned upside down, and I lost my footing. A hysterical cry left my mouth as I fell and landed hard on the tiled flooring. I scrambled to my feet in an instant, between jags of crying and screaming then glanced down at my hands. My palms were red with Hale's blood. Agitated, I rubbed them frantically on my jeans, trying to cleanse them while my stomach threatened to explode.
This must be some sort of a bad dream. Things like this didn't happen in paradise. There was no rocket scientist needed to figure out that my boss—aka, the big kahuna—was dead. With the exception of funerals, I'd never seen a dead body up close before. A million thoughts and questions flooded my brain, and one stood out from the rest.
I wondered if I had met a killer today.
CHAPTER FOUR
My lungs screamed and begged for me to pay attention. Air. I need air.
I fought against the urge to pass out as nausea stirred through my body. The Mauna Loa Volcano was due for an eruption, but I was fairly certain I was going to beat it. I burst through the patio entrance and started running toward the water.
Someone grabbed my arm, but I shook the person off, not even stopping to look and see who it was. A male voice yelled "Carrie," but I paid no attention and plowed on. I ran toward the waves that seemed to beckon me with reassurances that everything would be fine once I reached them.
I fell to my hands and knees, crawled to the edge of the shore, and proceeded to vomit. The night was still, and the waves continued to whisper softly to me as I lay there on my side, gasping for air.
Please let me wake up from this nightmare now.
A cool hand pressed against the back of my neck, steadying me as I retched again. When I had finally finished, I managed to weakly turn my head and saw Keanu's worried face next to mine. He gently helped me to my feet as I stumbled against him.
He forced me to look at him. "What happened?" Then he stared down at my hands in disbelief. "What the… Did you cut yourself?"
I pointed toward the café and found myself babbling like an idiot. "Call them."
Keanu's face was puzzled. "Call who?"
"9-1-1. Dead. Blood." I trembled as the bile rose in the back of my throat again.
Keanu's expression changed from confusion to shock. "Who? Hale? What happened?"
"Dead," I repeated, the insides of my stomach still flipping around like a gymnast. I moved away from him and sank down into the sand. "S-someone stabbed him."
He gave me a sharp look and then turned and ran inside the café. Despite the warm breeze that whipped through the palm trees, I was chilled to the bone, and my teeth began to chatter. I glanced down at my hands. There were still remnants of Hale's blood on them. I let out a low moan and submerged them in the shallow water, rubbing t
hem together in a neurotic frenzy. Then I vomited again.
My head reeled as I lay back on the sand with my feet submerged in the water, listening to the tide rushing in. For a moment I was too ill to care that I couldn't swim and one vicious wave might carry me off into the endless dark ocean. I sighed and closed my eyes.
Keanu found me again, and without a word, lifted my soaking-wet body effortlessly into his arms. He placed me in one of the restaurant chairs and wrapped a towel around my shoulders. His eyes were dark with worry as they stared into mine.
"The police and medics are on their way. I told them to come in through the rear entrance. Hopefully the guests inside the resort won't notice anything." He lifted a can of ginger ale from the table and placed it against my lips. "Drink this. It will help settle your stomach."
I shook my head. "I can't."
He narrowed his eyes. "Please don't argue with me, Carrie."
I took a sip, afraid that I might be sick again, then leaned back in the chair. Keanu placed the can on the table and stared out at the water.
"Who did this?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No idea."
A thought occurred to me. "I thought you'd left. Why were you outside the café?"
Keanu's gaze met mine. "I was worried about you, so I came back. And no, I didn't kill Hale, Carrie."
"I never said—"
"You were thinking it though."
"No." I placed my aching head in my hands. "I really don't know what to think."
He reached for my hand. "You're in shock. For the record, I know you didn't do anything either. I figured I'd stick around to see if you needed a ride home. I had no idea if he'd fire you or maybe try to come on to you. It's rotten to speak ill of the dead, but the guy wasn't exactly one of my favorite people."
Death of the Big Kahuna Page 4