Death of the Big Kahuna

by Catherine Bruns

  "I moved out of my apartment last night. It was kind of sudden, and I didn't know where else to go."

  He gave me a puzzled look. "But how did you get in here? Only me, Keanu, and Leo have keys—well, besides Alana, that is."

  "I sort of found one on the stairs yesterday." I realized this did not make me look endearing and attempted to explain. "Please, I just needed a place to crash. I didn't take anything, honest."

  He stared at me in silence, and I wondered if he would tell Alana. "Okay, but I have one more question for you."

  Oh good grief. "No, I didn't kill Hale."

  Poncho nodded. "That is good to know, but I was wondering if you might be hungry?"

  His words took me by surprise, and I grinned back at him. "Starved actually."

  Poncho turned in the direction of the stairs and waved his hand. "Come. We will get some breakfast in you."

  I followed him down the stairs. There was something about Poncho that seemed fatherly, and I wondered about his own family.

  "Do you have any kids?" I asked suddenly.

  Poncho picked up a pair of plastic gloves and put them on. He added sesame oil to the frying pan in front of him and stirred it around absently before adding ground pork, egg whites, and onion. "Two boys, Pika and Piliki. They are five and seven."

  I smiled. "Those are fun ages. I bet you enjoy them."

  His eyes lit up. "I do. Family is everything to me. Even more so after—"

  "After what?" I asked.

  He added salt, pepper, and water chestnuts to the pan. My stomach was growling so loud I thought for sure he must be able to hear it. "Nothing. I have been through some situations in my life that have made me appreciate my family even more. You know what I mean."

  Actually I didn't, since I had no real family to speak of, so I said nothing.

  "Tell me." Poncho stirred the contents with a steel spatula. In another small pan he cracked a couple of eggs effortlessly with one hand then tossed the shells into the garbage over his shoulder without even looking back. Score. Not one speck of shell was in the eggs, either. Amazing. "Did you have a fight with your boyfriend, little girl?"

  The thought of Brad made me want to wretch. "I found out he's been cheating on me."

  Anger flashed through Poncho's dark eyes, making them foreboding and a little bit terrifying as well. "For shame on him. A nice girl like you does not deserve to be treated like that. He should have been counting his blessings instead. Someday the boy will be sorry."

  I smiled. "Thank you, but I'll be all right. Maybe deep down I knew from the beginning we weren't destined to have some great, long-term relationship."

  Poncho spooned out the hash and slid the eggs on top of it. He handed the plate to me. "Pork hash and eggs, one of my specialties. You go eat, and I will get us some coffee. How do you take yours?"

  "With cream and two sugars, please."

  I sat down at one of the tables against the wall. I chose one away from the windows, just in case someone from the lobby might happen to peer in and see me. I dug into the hash, which melted in my mouth. When Poncho arrived, I was already halfway through. "This is delicious. You really are an incredible cook."

  He beamed as he placed the mug in front of me. "It is true. I am the best at what I do."

  "Modest too." I laughed, but curiosity was already nagging away at me. "Why do you stay here when you could get a job anywhere?"

  The color rose in his face, and he stared down at the table. Shoot. Me and my big mouth. What if he had killed Hale? No, I didn't want to believe that.

  "So," he said, intentionally avoiding my question, "what do you have planned for the day?"

  Don't push him, Care. "Well, I would just about kill—I mean—I would love to find someplace to shower. I'm supposed to do some extra cleaning around the café this afternoon."

  Poncho took a long swig from his mug. "Who authorized that?"

  "Keanu called me. He said Alana wanted him to find a server who could come in for a few hours to help out."

  His mouth twitched under the moustache. "I see."

  "You see what?"

  Poncho rose to his feet with the empty mug in hand. "It is nothing."

  "Come on," I pleaded.

  "Maybe the boy likes you and that is why he asked. I can tell by the way he looks at you."

  I was startled. "That's ridiculous."

  He watched me closely. "Hm. I am pretty sure that it is not ridiculous. What is the saying? You should go for it."

  "I'm sure he has a girlfriend." There was no way someone hadn't caught Keanu yet. He was gorgeous, sweet, and fun to be around. The complete package.

  Poncho shook his head. "He and Tammy broke up. A few weeks back, I believe."

  I could only hope that the circumstances hadn't been similar to my own. "How come?"

  He extended his hands in front of him, palms upright. "Beats me. Why don't you ask him yourself?"

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. That was not happening. "I don't think so."

  Poncho shook his head. "The female mind—it works in such mysterious ways. What is the big deal? You want to know something, you ask."

  Sure, I wanted to know. But if I asked, Keanu would think I might be interested in him. I was definitely attracted to him but had no intention of getting involved with someone else again—at least for a while.

  Changing the subject seemed like a good way to go. "I would love to go take a shower. Is there any possible way I could have one at the resort?"

  Poncho reached into his wallet and handed me a pass card, which looked similar to the ones that were inserted into hotel room doors. "I do not think you have been given one of these yet, but there is a locker room for the employees at the resort. This will get you in."

  "Thank you so much. I'm going upstairs to get my things. Will you be here when I get back?"

  He nodded. "Sometimes employees from the resort like to stop by for a snack around lunchtime, so I try to make myself available. I also like to put things in order for Leo the next morning. He handles the breakfast crowd until I come in at eleven, and let me say that he is not the most organized of cooks."

  "You work a lot of hours." I thought about the agreement again.

  "About fifty-five a week. But I love what I do and also need the money." He waved his hand dismissively. "Go, get your shower. Usually the facility is not too busy at this time of the morning."

  I smiled gratefully. "Thanks for breakfast. It was terrific."

  Poncho bowed slightly. "Anytime, Miss Carrie." He disappeared behind the double doors with my empty plate and the mugs.

  With my stomach full and my mind a bit less stressed, I ran upstairs and grabbed a few things from my cosmetic case, along with a change of clothing and stuffed them into my duffel bag. This would hopefully look less conspicuous than dragging a suitcase behind me. After I let myself out of the patio door, I then made my way back around to the front of the resort.

  I started in the direction of The Lava Pot, certain it wasn't open yet. I didn't want to go to the front desk and ask about the showers, but I might not have a choice.

  While I stood on the boardwalk, staring at the building helplessly, a young woman approached me from the opposite direction. She was shapely yet slim, with short blonde hair and a pretty face. She was wearing an Aloha camp-style blouse with tan and black bamboo leaves scattered across it, black cigarette pants, and high heels. Although she wasn't dressed in the usual Aloha Lagoon uniform of shorts and polo shirt that I'd seen, I figured she must work here in some capacity.

  "You look lost." It was a statement, not a question, and I caught the hint of a Midwestern accent in her tone.

  "Kind of," I confessed. "Can you tell me where the locker room is?"

  "Oh sure." She turned in the direction she had just come from. "Follow me." The woman surveyed me with interest as we walked along. "Are you an employee or guest?"

  I shook my head. "Employee. I work at the Loco Moco. I'm Carrie."

  She
gave me a genuine, warm smile. "Nice to meet you, Carrie. I'm Gabby. Are you new to the island?"

  I nodded. "Yes, I'm from Vermont originally."

  "Ah, I'm from Chicago myself. Quite a bit of a difference here, isn't it?"

  That was an understatement. I'd never encountered a dead body back home, but I chose to leave that detail out of our conversation. "Yes, it's very different from back home."

  We went through an archway, and to our left. I spotted the glass door of the gym. I could see two men in there—one was running on a treadmill and another lifting weights.

  "Here you go," Gabby said. "The employee locker room is on the other side of the gym. Go through the door next to the water cooler. You'll find the spa and saunas over in that direction too."

  "Thanks so much."

  She handed me her business card. "I own Gabby's Island Adventures. If you ever want to set up a tour of the island, please call me. I'd love to assist you."

  I shoved the card into my pants pocket. "Sounds wonderful. I might just take you up on that." Since I was homeless at the moment, it was probably a safe bet that this wouldn't happen anytime soon.

  Gabby gave a careless wave. "Tell my bud Poncho I said hello. He always takes such good care of me and my staff."

  "Sure thing." I waited until she had walked away then slid the card Poncho had given me into the door. The gym was done up in bright colors and contained the usual amount of treadmills, elliptical machines, and bikes one would expect to see. There were also several flat-screen televisions mounted on the wall. I quickly discovered the water cooler Gabby had mentioned, next to another door. The two men didn't pay any attention to me as I casually strolled across the room to the door and opened it.

  I spotted the spa quarters on the other side of a carpeted hallway. The place looked enormous through the glass-paneled doors, and I glimpsed a marble receptionist counter with a woman sitting behind it. I assumed there must be several massage rooms where they gave manicures, facials, and pedicures as well. Ah, to live in such grandeur.

  After I found the door for the women's employee locker room and entered, I then stripped off my clothes. The lockers were built around a sitting area with rattan chairs cushioned in a seafoam green color. I grabbed shampoo, soap, and my razor from the duffel, then placed it back in one of the lockers. The resort was high end, and I knew my clothes would be safe. I entered the showers in the adjoining room.

  The steaming hot water engulfed my body in a welcoming manner. If only I could wash away my problems so easily. I shampooed and rinsed my hair, then toweled off. There was no one around, but I went back into the cubicle for privacy to get dressed. Hair dryers were located by the mirrored counter section, and I was grateful, having forgotten mine in a rush to get here. I must have spent at least fifteen minutes on my hair alone. I bent forward at the waist and flipped it in front of me. Because my hair was so long and thick, it took forever to dry.

  I'd been fed, and now I was clean. Funny how I'd never really appreciated the bare necessities in life up until now. I was already thinking ahead to where I would spend the night. Leo and Anna, the part-time server, would be in the café the next morning at six o'clock—or perhaps even earlier—to deal with the breakfast crowd. So unless I could manage to be out of there at five, I needed to find a new place to crash. But where would I go after I finished my work at the café today? I didn't want to tell Keanu what had happened. It was embarrassing enough that Poncho knew.

  "How did you make out?" Poncho asked after I'd returned to the café and started to make my way back up the stairs. He motioned me to come into the kitchen. I stuffed my duffel bag into one of the lockers and then joined him by the stove. He was beating fresh, sliced pumpkin together with an egg and sugar mixture. With the other hand he lined a tray with parchment paper. Chefs were such wonderful multitaskers. I could barely boil water myself.

  "I never knew a shower could be such a luxury. Sometimes it's the little things I take for granted, you know?"

  A shadow passed over his face. "Yes, I know something about that."

  My mind kept going back to the agreement I'd found upstairs. I wondered if there was a tactful way I could bring it up. Probably not.

  "What time is Keanu meeting you?" Poncho asked as he added cinnamon and flour to the mixture.

  "At one." I still had almost an hour to kill, but I could get started on the cleaning before he came along. "What are you making? That smells wonderful."

  He nodded in agreement. "Pumpkin roll. I will leave it in the fridge after baking. Then I will add the cream cheese filling so it will be fresh for the customers."

  "Oh, yum. I've definitely got to try some. Is that a popular dessert here?"

  Poncho turned off the mixer and stirred the contents with a perfected hand. "Islanders eat a great deal of pumpkin. It is not all about the pineapples and mai tais, ho'aloha. We also eat a lot of fish. You need to stop thinking like a tourist." He winked. "So what made you decide to come to Hawaii? Was it to be with that dog turd of your boyfriend and attempt to keep a leash on him?"

  He had such a way with words. "No, there were other reasons. It isn't something I want to get into right now."

  Poncho's face was unreadable as he rolled out parchment paper onto two more cookie sheets and then divided the pumpkin mixture evenly between all of them. "Come on. Pretend that I am like your dad."

  My head jerked up, and our eyes met. I gritted my teeth and spoke in a bitter voice that was unlike my usual tone. "I don't have a dad, so that won't work, thanks."

  "Oh my, I am sorry," Poncho said. "Is he dead?"

  We really needed to change the subject. "That's something else I don't want to discuss."

  "Come on, little girl," Poncho urged. "You look like you need someone to talk to."

  He was right. Since moving out of the apartment, I was feeling lost and friendless, not to mention lonely.

  "All right," I conceded. "I'll tell you my secret, but you have to tell me one in return."

  "Deal," Poncho said. "You go first."

  I blew out a breath and began talking very fast, wanting to get this over with. I hated talking about my life back home. "I don't have a real family to speak of. My mother has ignored me for as long as I can remember. I could never quite measure up to my perfect older sister, Penny, in her eyes. So I decided it was time to forget my past and move forward with my future. When Brad said he was going to Hawaii, I decided to hitch a ride. As soon as I had saved enough money for the plane ticket, I was out of there."

  Poncho was quiet as he loaded the trays into a wall oven and then wiped his hands on his apron. "I am so sorry for your troubles. If you were my daughter, I would treat you like a jewel. Children are a gift from God. Maybe someday your mother will feel differently."

  My answer came without hesitation. "No. She doesn't care about me. My father left when I was four, and she's always blamed me for it."

  His face was full of sympathy. "What a terrible load for a young woman like you to bear."

  I bit into my lower lip. "I'm used to it. Time to move on." I didn't want to feel sorry for myself anymore. What would it solve? "Okay, your turn."

  He gave me a wry smile. "What would you like to know?"

  Why you made a deal with the devil, for starters. "Tell me your deepest, darkest secret. Nothing is off limits," I teased.

  "All right." Poncho put the mixing bowl in the sink and squared his shoulders as he turned around to face me. His eyes, dark and ominous like a starless sky, hypnotized me into oblivion. "I killed a man once."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Okay, I must have heard him wrong. For the second time today, Poncho had managed to reduce me to a quivering mass of Jell-O, complete with extra fear on top. "Wh-what do you—who was it?"

  Poncho's expression was somber as he rinsed the dirty bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. "It was not intentional, ho'aloha. This was back in my drinking days. Another fellow jumped me at a bar one night. He claimed I had been looking
at his girlfriend the wrong way."

  "Go on," I urged.

  Poncho set out three packages of cream cheese and butter for the filling. "He punched me in the face several times. No one would help me. A bunch of men stood around, cheering him on and calling me some very bad names. They insulted my heritage. I lay there on the floor, all bloody and angry. When he went to hit me again, I grabbed my beer bottle and smacked him in the back of the head with it."

  I was starting to feel sick. "And that one blow is what did it?"

  Poncho nodded and stared down at his hands. "He died the next morning, and I was arrested."

  "But it wasn't your fault," I protested.

  He shrugged. "The dead man's family was wealthy. I believe they had friends in the district attorney's office. The court appointed a lawyer to represent me, as I could not afford one any other way. To this day I believe he thought I intentionally planned the whole thing. I was convicted on a manslaughter charge and sentenced to two years in jail. They tried to get me put away for longer, but thankfully that did not occur."

  "When was this?" I asked.

  Poncho added some lemon juice to the mixture. "About five years ago. Soon after Piliki was born."

  The look on his face when he mentioned his son's name tugged at my heartstrings. How awful it must have been for him to leave his family, especially a wife who needed him, plus two small children. "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how terrible that must have been for you."

  "We all learn from the events in our lives," Poncho said. "Tragedy can shape us sometimes. I like to think that my experience in prison has made me a better person. I know what it is like to go without a shower. To sleep in a cell with iron bars every night. I was an alcoholic back then and not the best husband to my dear Makani. I stopped drinking when I went away to prison. I now have a good life with my wife and sons and would not trade it for anything. I treat every day like it is my last one on earth because we are never promised tomorrow."