Death of the Big Kahuna

by Catherine Bruns

  I sat back on my haunches. There was a faint glimmer of light coming from the nearby hotel in the distance. My only hope was that Keanu might be worried that I hadn't returned yet. Did I tell him I was coming to the pier? I couldn't remember. "You forgot one thing. The night of the murder."

  "Oh?" She sounded puzzled. "What was that?"

  "No one ever told you I was the one who found Hale," I reminded her. "Detective Ray said he never gives away details like that in a case. When you called that night and said you couldn't believe I'd found him, I figured it was because Detective Ray had already told you."

  She gave an exaggerated gasp as if putting on a performance, then laughed. "Oops. My bad."

  "You tried to kill me and Keanu earlier tonight," I said. "Why?"

  Her voice was icier than a rural road during a Vermont blizzard. "You were getting too nosy, hon—you and Mr. Stud there. What, do you think you're the dynamic duo or something? It's pretty obvious something's going on between you two. Such a shame that nothing will ever come of it though."

  "They'll find your car." I tried to use stalling tactics, but it was difficult when your body was filled with paralyzing fear.

  "The car belongs to a neighbor of mine. He's an old guy who always leaves the key inside. He doesn't even know where he is half the time, let alone the car. I've already gotten rid of it."

  I was chilled to the bone, but it wasn't a result of the downpour. I realized that tonight might be my last night on earth and that I was at the mercy of this crazed woman—someone I'd worked with, who I had actually started to think of as a friend. Poor Vivian. She had no idea that for the last few days she'd been sharing her apartment with a psychopathic killer.

  I had to keep Lola talking. "Wha—what are you talking about?"

  Lola took a step toward me. "Sorry to tell you this, but your life ends tonight, Carrie. Right now, as a matter of fact."

  Panic set in. "Wait. Tell me about that night. Why did you do it then? Because I had just started working there and Carmen had been fired the day before?"

  She laughed. "Yeah, the timing was perfect. Hale had an argument with Poncho, and he told Hale he'd love to kill him. Bingo. A perfect day or what? Then Hale got a phone call from someone who had been threatening him."

  "Carmen." The fog inside my head was starting to clear.

  "Anyhow, I was across the boardwalk, behind a group of trees, and saw you and Keanu leave together. I figured he was taking you home. What I didn't realize is that you were coming back to the café. I had just taken the pineapple from the fridge when I heard you at the door. There wasn't any time to remove the knife or even get out of the building. I hid in the back room with the cubbies and hoped you wouldn't come back there." She paused. "I had another knife—just in case."

  I shivered at her words, understanding their full meaning.

  "I heard you run out the door and knew you were going for help," Lola continued. "I panicked and grabbed the knife out of Hale's body, then ran out the patio door while you were down at the water puking your guts out. I didn't know till I came outside that Keanu was there too." She whistled softly in the night. "Close call for me."

  "Then you decided to hang on to the knife and plant it on somebody else, like me. You figured you would confuse things even more by trying to implicate both me and Poncho."

  "Pretty much," she confessed. "Poncho's plastic gloves came in handy that night—let me tell you. Then today, when you and Keanu went off together, I thought you two might have figured it out. You guys looked pretty tight. So I had no choice but to scare you. With any luck I might have injured one of you or put you permanently out of commission. Hey, a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do, right?"

  "That's sick," I muttered.

  "You are a first-class snoop," Lola snickered. "I had you pegged right from the beginning. Too bad Keanu pushed you out of the way. It would have been easier for you to go like that. Now you have to confront your worst nightmare."

  As the waves continued to crash against the pier, I understood what she meant. Ever since I was a child and the incident at the beach occurred, I'd had the same recurring dream about drowning, except that I always woke up afterwards. This nightmare didn't come with those perks.

  "How did you know about that?" I asked.

  "Remember those two guys who were outside the café the other day flirting with you?" she asked. "They invited you to go out on their boat, and you said you couldn't swim." Lola made a tsk-tsk sound. "You shouldn't give away secrets like that, Carrie. They could be used against you."

  She reached down and pulled my head back by the hair. When I raised up my hands to fight her off, she smacked me across the face. A ring on her finger cut my lip, and I tasted blood. Lola must have had cat's eyes, or else she knew the pier like the back of her hand. She started dragging me toward what I assumed was the edge.

  "Let go of me!" I managed to kick her, and she lost her grip for a second. In panic, I rose to my feet and tried to run, but she landed another blow to the side of my face.

  "Somebody help me!" I screamed into the night. Damn this storm. All the guests were probably snug in their rooms. There was no one around to save me. I stifled a sob. If I had to die, I didn't want it to be like this. The thought of the deep, dark water below was too frightening a prospect.

  She gave me a hard shove, but my fingers grabbed one of the beams, and I held on as tightly as I could. Then I lifted my legs and connected with Lola's stomach.

  Lola emitted a groan and hit the base of the pier. "Don't you dare ruin this for me!"

  The tiki torches lit the sky once again, and we both squinted as our eyes adjusted to the sudden light. I spotted Keanu standing on the other side of the pier, slowly limping toward us.

  He pinned his eyes on Lola. "Let her go."

  Lola squeezed my neck tightly between her hands. "Turn around and go back, Keanu," she ordered. "Walk away, and pretend that you didn't see anything."

  We were at the edge of the pier, too close to the water below for my comfort. I was struggling for air but managed to insert my elbow backward into Lola's chest. Lola let go of me, and I started to rise. Keanu rushed toward us, but Lola struck me across the forehead with her hand. She reached for me, and I managed a sharp kick to her face with my shoe. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she landed on top of me, then we both fell off the pier and into the darkened water below.

  Panicked, I screamed and flapped my arms like a crazy person, but the current was strong and dragged me under immediately. I knew nothing but the dark water and a deep-rooted fear inside that threatened to suffocate and consume me. The waves started to draw me further out into the ocean. I kicked with all my might and managed to lift my face above the water for a split second to gulp some air. Bits of my life flashed before my eyes, and suddenly I was six years old again, bobbing up and down in the water, looking for my mother…

  "Help me!" I shrieked.

  Two strong arms went around my waist. A wave rushed over us, and I was momentarily blinded from the water. My face was then above the surface, and I started to choke and sputter. I continued to kick and scream, in full-blown panic mode now.

  Keanu's face was next to mine. He held me around the waist with one arm and fought the waves with the other.

  "Carrie, stop fighting me!" he yelled. "I've got you. Relax. I won't let go. I promise."

  I clung to him and those words as the picture of me as a child fighting the water started to fade from my brain. I was dead weight to Keanu as he dragged me along in the water. Emotions overwhelmed me, and I started to sob.

  "It's all right." Keanu was breathing heavily, but he spoke soothingly to me as we reached the shore. He released me, and we both fell on our backs in the sand. I rolled onto my stomach, coughing and gagging. Keanu slapped me on the back a few times and then turned me over. His face was directly above mine. The tiki lights reflected off his blue eyes, perhaps the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  He reached down to brush t
he damp hair out of my eyes. "Are you okay?"

  I was crying again, and he wrapped his arms around me. "Thank you," I whispered.

  "I'm going after Lola," Keanu said.

  Before I could even respond, he released me and turned to go. I clutched at his soaked shirt, but he shook me off and dove back into the water.

  "No!" I screamed into the night as the rain continued to cascade around me. I was terrified that he might not make it back this time. He'd probably further aggravated his ankle by saving me. I staggered to my feet but had to stop for breath. I was still dizzy from the blow to my head, and the beach turned upside down a few times. I staggered back into the sand and sunk to my knees, breathing hard.

  "Please God," I whispered. "Please bring him back safely."

  I started to crawl back towards the pier. When I heard Keanu's voice, he sounded panicked.

  "Carrie!" he shouted. "Where are you?"

  "Here." I started to rise to my feet unsteadily.

  Keanu came into view, and when he reached me, he sank onto the sand, pulling me down with him. "I was scared half to death when I didn't see you at first." He pushed the wet hair off his face and stared down at me, his expression somber. "The waves are too high. I had to turn back."

  I reached for his hand, and he covered mine with both of his. "It's not your fault," I said. "You did everything you could."

  He raised himself on one elbow and reached down to examine my forehead where Lola had struck me. I winced, and Keanu clenched his jaw. "You've got an awful lump from where she hit you and bruises across your cheeks. Maybe even a concussion. We've got to get you some medical attention."

  My teeth were chattering, I was soaked from the rain and the ocean water, and every bone in my body ached. I moved closer, and he wrapped his arms around me.

  "You saved my life. I don't know how to thank you."

  He observed me thoughtfully in silence. "I'm just glad I was here. Thank God the cabbie told me you were down at the pier. After a couple of minutes I started to get nervous and figured I'd walk down to check on you. Of course it took me forever with this bum ankle." He stroked my hair gently. "That had to be terrifying for you."

  Tears started to well in my eyes. Ashamed, I looked away.

  "Hey." Keanu slowly turned my face back toward him. "Don't cry, Carrie. The nightmare is over. You're safe now. I always want you to feel safe—with me."

  The rain had stopped, and our eyes locked on each other. He continued to stroke my hair as we lay there in the wet sand. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

  "Oh, hell." I put my arms around his neck. "Please kiss me, okay?"

  Not waiting for an answer, I pressed my lips against his and felt his mouth open for me. He was gentle at first, his mouth warm and wet and tasting of salt water. Then the kiss turned more urgent. He gently pushed me back into the sand, his body on top of mine. His arms went around me as our bodies blended together in the sand.

  "I do love a forceful woman." Keanu grinned when we finally came up for air. "Just so you know—I was planning to get around to that part eventually. I was worried about your head."

  "Stop worrying." I ran a hand through his wet hair, and he leaned down to kiss my cheek. "I told you I'm fine."

  "You don't look fine," he admitted. "Where's your phone? I lost mine in the water. We've got to get some help for you."

  I pointed in the direction of the pier. "It's on the pier somewhere, I think. And yeah, I must look like a train wreck."

  "No, you're still beautiful," he assured me. "Nothing will ever change that."

  Lights streaked across the sky, and we spotted a police car making its way in our direction, followed by an EMT vehicle.

  Keanu lifted his head and watched them approach. "Someone must have spotted us down here."

  I started to move away, but Keanu tightened his grip around me. I raised an eyebrow at him as he ran a finger down the side of my face, and I trembled—now with desire.

  "What are you doing?" I asked. "They'll see us."

  He grinned. "Who cares? I've been thinking about kissing you ever since we first met. Give me those lips again, Miss Jorgenson."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I was standing on stage, in front of a packed crowd at Lincoln Center in New York. It was our two hundredth consecutive sellout. I bowed modestly in front of the audience that roared with approval. Everyone in the house was standing on their feet and shouting my name. I bowed again and then ran backstage, but the applause rang louder. The audience started stomping their feet on the floor, threatening to bring the house down.

  My costar, Neil Patrick Harris, gave me a gentle push. "Carrie, honey. Go give the crowd what they want."

  I made my way back to the stage, amid thunderous applause. The stomping grew louder and louder as I covered my ears. It was all too much.

  "Okay, everyone, clapping is good enough. Thank you!" I shouted.

  The knocking thundered in my head, and I opened my eyes. Disoriented, I realized after a few seconds I was in Keanu's suite at the Aloha Lagoon Resort. Dang, what a dream. It didn't get much better than that.

  The knocking continued, and a male voice called through the door. "Miss Carrie, are you in there?"

  Poncho. "One minute." I stared down at the outfit I'd gone to bed in, a T-shirt and panties. Yeah, definitely not enough. I searched around the room frantically. My suitcase stood in one corner, but I didn't have time to sift through it right now. I ran into the bathroom. A complimentary robe and slippers were on the counter. I tore open the package and threw the robe on, tying the sash while I opened the door.

  Poncho was standing there with a tray between his hands. A smile quivered underneath his moustache.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "I thought you might be hungry, ho'aloha." He walked past me into the adjoining room of the suite. He set the tray down on the table then looked at me. "Here or on the balcony?"

  "Oh wow. It's fine right here, thank you." I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was eleven in the morning. After spending a couple of hours at the hospital the night before—where I was informed that I had a mild concussion—I'd returned to the hotel with Keanu. Because he had aggravated his ankle with his rescue antics, he'd been given a walking boot and told to stay put for the night. Ever the gentleman, he'd given me the bed and taken the couch in the separate sitting room. I glanced around. There was no sign that he'd even been there. Emptiness settled in the bottom of my stomach.

  "Come." Poncho held out a chair for me. "How are you feeling? Keanu said you had a concussion."

  I sat down. "Where did he—is he at the café?"

  Poncho shook his head. "He was there earlier but said he had to leave. Things to take care of." He poured a cup of coffee for me from a plastic carafe. "You are both very lucky that woman did not get you killed."

  I glanced out the window in the direction of the ocean. While we had been at the hospital last night with Detective Ray questioning us, he had received a call that Lola's lifeless body had washed up on the shore. Guilt riddled my body. Even though I had been forced to defend myself, I assumed the sharp kick I'd given her must have knocked Lola unconscious, thereby resulting in her death. "She wasted her whole life with hate. It's such a tragedy."

  Poncho watched me in silence. "Do not blame yourself, Miss Carrie. Hale was a lot of things, yes. God knows I had my reasons for hating him too. But he did not deliberately kill Lola's mother in that accident. He did not deserve her revenge or to die like that. No one does." He stared down at his hands for a minute. "That incident at the bar that night—I will regret it to my dying day."

  My heart swelled inside my chest as I reached out to pat his hand. "You didn't mean for that to happen. With Lola it was a little different."

  Poncho looked up and smiled at me. "Enough. I came to feed you, not make you feel bad." He lifted the silver lid off the plate, and I stared down at the food before me. It was a mixture of white rice with a hamburger patty and a p
oached egg on top, smothered in gravy. My mouth immediately began to water.

  "Do you know what this dish is called?" Poncho asked.

  I shook my head. "I've never seen it at the café."

  Poncho put a small dish of hash brown potatoes next to my coffee cup. "It is called the Loco Moco."

  I laughed. "Seriously? How come we don't serve it then?"

  Poncho scowled. "It is a common islander breakfast food. Hale never cared for the dish himself and refused to put it on the menu. I think it is safe to say that it will be making a comeback though."

  I was intrigued. "Then why is the café named that?"

  "Hale and his parents did not name the café. The original owner did. The Akamus thought it might be bad for business if they changed the name. Now, no more questions. Eat," he commanded.

  I took a bite, and my taste buds practically sang out loud. A fabulous comfort food that for me ranked right up there with the likes of macaroni and cheese, ice cream, and chocolate cake. "This is amazing."

  He beamed. "I am so glad you like it, Miss Carrie."

  Curiosity was already getting the best of me again. "Was Alana at the café this morning?"

  Poncho nodded. "For a little while. I think that there may be some changes coming our way since she knows who killed her husband."

  Uneasiness stirred from within. Was she still planning to fire me?

  Poncho wore a pleased expression on his face. "Do not look so worried, Miss Carrie. Everything will be fine. Keanu seemed to be in very high spirits. I wonder what could have brought that on."

  Heat burned my cheeks, and I looked away in embarrassment. The kisses that we'd shared last night seemed almost like a dream today. After the police and medical help arrived, we'd been taken to the hospital and been examined. Detective Ray had driven us back to the resort himself in the wee hours of the morning. I'd insisted Keanu stay as well—heck, it was his room—but nothing further had happened between us. I'd remembered him waking me up a couple of times during the night to check on me, his fingers gently stroking the side of my face. However, he'd made no attempt to crawl into bed beside me. What a bummer.