4 Maui Macadamia Madness

by Cynthia Hickey

  From the tic in his jaw when he got in the van, I could tell Ethan struggled to control his temper. Not many things riled him, but when they did my gentle man turned into a tiger. I’m guessing almost getting hit by a car, after I told him someone wanted to kill me, might have lit his fuse.

  Without speaking, he turned the key in the ignition and pulled back onto the road. The scenery left nothing to be desired. The atmosphere inside the van did. No one talked. Everyone stared silently out the window.

  It was all my fault. Hawaii was a place to be enjoyed, and me being involved in another mystery spoiled it for everyone. “I’m sorry, guys.” I laid a hand on Ethan’s arm. “I want to go home.”

  “We’ll be back at the hotel in a few hours.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road.

  “No. I mean home.”

  He glanced out of the corner of his eye. “Nope. Not yet. Not until we get to the bottom of all this. We showed up on our honeymoon, someone dies, and you’re left a warning note without us doing anything to get involved.”

  “We don’t plan on going anywhere,” Uncle Roy said. “Do we, Eunice?”

  Joe sighed. “We’ll be staying, too.”

  “Don’t sound so thrilled.” The day’s gloom blew away on a tropical breeze. My family cared enough to help me. Even Joe. He might sigh and groan, but he wanted to know how this all ended as well as I did. The cop in him wouldn’t let him walk away before the end of the story. “So, how do we hurry this thing along? Ethan and I head home soon.”

  “We keep you visible.” Joe straightened. “Not alone, but out where you can be seen. We drop hints that you know more than you’ve said. We—watch out!”

  Ethan swerved, taking the van up a steep incline, which considering the other side of the road led off a cliff, seemed the best choice. He hit the brakes and cut the ignition.

  Ahead of us, a red convertible hung halfway off the same cliff I feared we’d drive off. First, the car appeared to have smashed into the side of a hill, then according to tire marks, skidded toward the cliff. I didn’t know what kept it from diving into the ocean, only that I prayed it would stay where it was.

  “Ethan, there’s still someone in the car.” I clutched his arm, knowing without him saying a word that he and Joe would attempt to rescue the person.

  With the imminent danger, the surf sounded louder, menacing, an angry god waiting for sacrifice. I closed my eyes and prayed: For their safety and for the unknown person in the car.

  “Stay here,” he told me.

  I never would understand why he kept telling me things he knew I couldn’t do. As soon as he scooted from the van, I did the same and was followed by Aunt Eunice and April. We stood on the side of the road and held hands while Ethan and Joe approached the other vehicle. Aunt Eunice’s lips moved in silent prayer. I uttered my own, pleading with God not to allow the car to fall.

  Ethan and Joe both shook their heads, Ethan pressing numbers on his phone, clearly not knowing how to proceed without backup. The person in the car hadn’t moved. Were they alive?

  “Check for a pulse!” Seemed a logical thing to do.

  “I will,” Joe answered. “Once I can figure out how to without me and the car going over.” He stepped closer. “Sir? Can you hear me?”

  “Wait.” Ethan held out a hand. “That’s Franklin, one of the guests at the B & B.”

  Where was Maryann? I released Aunt Eunice’s and Alice’s hands and scoured the thick foliage on the side of the road. There! A flash of bright yellow and blue. “Ethan! Joe!”

  I knelt beside Maryann’s body and felt her neck for a pulse. I found one. A purple goose egg rose above her eyebrow and the right side of her face was scraped. It looked like she might have been thrown from the car when it collided with the hill.

  Ethan joined me. “Ambulance is on its way, but it’ll be a while. I don’t think Franklin’s alive. Joe wouldn’t let me get too close, but his neck is sitting at an odd angle. The car’s ready to go any moment.”

  “She’s got a nasty bump on her head. Do you think it’s safe to move her to the seat of the van?” Anything to get her out of the dirt and somewhere more comfortable. She’d feel horrible enough to know Bruce was dead after they’d so recently argued.

  “I think so. Joe?” Ethan glanced over his shoulder.

  “Her husband is definitely deceased. I checked for a pulse. Yeah, I think we should make her as comfortable as we can. It’s getting ready to rain and she’s lying in a ditch.” Together, he and Ethan carefully moved her to the middle bench seat of the van.

  I wet a rag and wiped as much of the dirt from Maryann’s face as I could. She groaned a couple of times, but didn’t open her eyes. “Maryann?” I hated to disturb her, but wanted to ask a few questions. What person in their right mind would speed on these roads?

  “Bruce?” Her eyelids fluttered then opened. Panicked, she slapped at my hands and struggled to sit up. “Where’s Bruce?”

  “He’s by the car.” I couldn’t tell her he was dead, I couldn’t. “What happened?” I waved Joe over.

  “We were coming around a curve and the car sped up. Bruce tried to slow down, but he said the brakes weren’t working.” She put a hand to her head. “Oh, my head hurts. Where’s Bruce?”

  Tears sprang to my eyes as Joe took her hand in his and crouched beside her. “We’ve called the ambulance to help you, Mrs. Franklin. I’m…I’m afraid Bruce didn’t make it.”

  Her cry ripped at my heart. Right along with the notion that our Maui killer had claimed another victim. What were the chances that a rental car’s brakes would fail? I mean, they kept these cars in mint condition. No, with the other things that had happened recently, I felt pretty certain that someone had wanted the Franklins dead.

  I stood and leaned against the car. That ‘someone’ was ticking down a list, at least it seemed like to me, making the deaths look like an accident. A list! I remembered the cigar box. I needed to check it as soon as we returned to our room. Something told me my procrastination could have let a clue go by undiscovered.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sunburned, exhausted, and with a camera brimming with pictures of the most beautiful scenery, I plopped on the bed and stared at Mrs. Aldrich’s box. What I really wanted to do was set aside anything that had to do with the mystery and enjoy what was left of my honeymoon. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Against the backdrop of Ethan’s tuneless singing in the shower, I slowly opened the lid of the box and peered in. A few sheets of paper and a couple of photographs were inside.

  I lifted a photograph and studied the beach it depicted. Two men, their faces in shadow, stood beside the water. From their body language, it was obvious they fought about something. The next picture was taken through a window where a man, his back to the camera, riffled through a dresser drawer. A dark smudge on his upper arm disappeared under the sleeve of his tee shirt. Yes, Mrs. Aldrich had done some snooping, but her photography skills left a lot to be desired.

  After returning the photos, I pulled out the paper. Every current guest residing at the Wahine Bed and Breakfast was listed. Mr. Jamison’s name was crossed off. The Wahine’s were also listed, with stars beside their names. Did the stars mean Mrs. Aldrich suspected them, or did it mean she thought they were in the clear? Instead of giving me answers, her notes raised more questions.

  Ugh. I fell backward, banging my head on the headboard. That’s what I deserved for my momentary temper tantrum.

  Ethan stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low on his hips, while he scrubbed at his head with another towel. “What’s wrong?”

  “I looked at Mrs. Aldrich’s notes, such as they are.” I moved the box closer to him by using my foot.

  “That’s the beach right outside.” He pulled out a photo.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure.” He picked up the other picture. “And this is Mr. Jamison’s room, I think. They all kind of look the same.”

  I snatch
ed the pictures from his hand. “You’re right. Why didn’t I see it? Any idea who the guys are?”

  He shrugged. “Not a clue.”

  I scooted to a sitting position and hugged a pillow. “I need to ask some pointed questions at supper. Speaking of which, I need to get showered and dressed.”

  “You look beat.” Ethan glanced at the clock. “Why don’t you rest, and I’ll order in. You can ask questions in the morning.”

  I took his advice and snuggled down. When I woke, the sun had fully set. Wondering what Ethan had done to occupy himself, I grabbed a clean set of comfie clothes and went to take my shower. By the time I was finished, murmuring voices drifted from the living area. One glance at the bed showed the cigar box missing. I moved to the living area where my family huddled around the coffee table and box.

  “This is definitely right out your window, but the angle doesn’t come from in here.” Joe tapped the photo against his leg then moved to the arcadia door. “I’d say the photographer hid in those bushes.”

  “What do you think the man was looking for in Jamison’s room?” I sat next to Ethan.

  “It isn’t Jamison’s room.” He turned and stood beside me to point at the other photo. “It’s the Aldrich’s, I think. Unless Jamison wore lipstick.”

  Sure enough, a tube of peach, the same shade Mrs. Aldrich used to wear, was lying on the dresser. I studied the photo closer. In the corner, a floral fabric hung out of the closet. She’d taken a photo of her killer!

  “My name’s on that list.” Uncle Roy crossed his arms. “I’d like to see some low-life snake come sniffing around here.”

  “I want you taking precautions, Roy.” Joe shook his head. “This isn’t funny. Nobody at this hotel is safe until this murderer is caught. I need to have a serious talk with Manano. Summer, I’m taking these photos with me.”

  “Not until I make copies.” I grabbed the box and its contents. “I made a promise to Mr. Aldrich, and I intend to keep it. I’m going to the business center.”

  “Not alone, you’re not.” Ethan stood and grabbed the card key to our room. “Joe, we’ll bring these by your room when we’re done.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We left as a group, the other four going to their cottage, while Ethan and I headed to the main building. The business center was a fancy name for a closet of a room that housed one computer and a printer that also acted as a fax and copier. Black and white, but at least we’d still have the jest of what was on the photos.

  Ethan waited patiently while I made the copies, then took my arm to walk me to Joe’s room. I wanted to ask what when on in his handsome head, but decided Ethan needed a few minutes to work through something. I was torn between wishing he’d take me back home to Arkansas or stay in Hawaii to finish what someone else started.

  We left the building and took the long way to Joe’s cottage. The path that led along the beach. I slipped my hand into Ethan’s, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Want to take a moment to watch the waves?”

  I nodded. “I’d love to. There hasn’t been a lot of romance on this honeymoon, has there?”

  “No, and we need to remedy that.” He led me to a small rise in the sand.

  We sat, his arm around my shoulder, my head on his chest, and watched the waves caress the beach. God often outdid himself with his creation, and the view ahead of us gave testimony to that fact.

  The moon cast a silver path over dark water. What would it be like to walk that path? Hand-in-hand with Ethan, just to discover where such a heavenly path would go. I sighed and snuggled deeper. Ethan kissed the top of my head. We’d definitely have to come back and have a proper honeymoon.

  “Shhh.” Ethan straightened.

  Closer to the water, a man walked, head down, scraping his feet through the wet sand. He stopped and peered across the ocean waves.

  “That looks like the same profile in Mrs. Aldrich’s photo.” I tried to peer at him in the dark, to no avail. “Should we say something to him?”

  “No.” Ethan stood slowly and pulled me behind a hibiscus bush. “Just watch. Maybe we can follow.”

  The man seemed deep in thought, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. From his slim build, I guessed he might be a young man. A native, even. If my guess was correct, it would lower the suspect pool. I shook my head. We didn’t even know whether the young man was up to no good, and here I was jumping to conclusions, as usual.

  After several minutes, he strolled a few yards farther down the beach and plopped onto an old sofa someone had left under a palm tree. I’d always figured it belonged to a vagrant, but maybe not. Maybe it was a cheap way for people to enjoy the view.

  “Has it occurred to you,” I said, tugging on Ethan’s arm to get his attention. “That most of our time on this beach has been to spy on people?” I’d rather be curled up in a beach chair or snorkeling.

  He chuckled. “So, it has. Look, he’s moving again, and he just lit a cigarette. Do any of the guests smoke?”

  “I don’t know, and I’m sure if the staff does, they aren’t allowed to do it out in the open.” I sighed. I’d created a monster when I roped Ethan into helping me solve the last two mysteries I’d gotten involved in. He said it was to keep me safe, but sometimes I wondered. I allowed him to drag me until the man disappeared out of sight among the buildings of the B & B.

  “We’ve lost him.” Ethan’s shoulders sagged. “Might as well go to Joe’s.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “More than I should.” He gave me a hug. “Just think, most people on their honeymoon spends all their time in their room. We’re seeing the whole island by chasing these clues.”

  “Imagine that.”

  “Feeling neglected?”

  “A little.” I forced a smile. “Why is it that everywhere I go, someone dies?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.” He slid his hand down my arm and took my hand. “Come on. I’ll love you until your blood boils after we drop these off at Joe’s.”

  “Promises, promises.” Of course, just the thought of his promise put a spring in my step.

  Instead of knocking on Joe’s cottage, Ethan pushed open the door and entered as if he lived there. I shrugged. Since Joe and April weren’t married and shared the cottage with Uncle Roy and Aunt Eunice, things were safe, or they’d better be. If Joe tried anything with April, officer of the law or not, Ethan would skin him alive. I grinned. I might pay to see that.

  “About time.” Joe uncurled from the sofa. “Everyone else is already in bed.”

  “Wish we were.” I clapped a hand over my mouth.

  Ethan gave me a warning look. “We were following someone we thought looked like the guy in the photos. But we lost him.” He handed Joe the papers, folding and tucking our own copies before stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans.

  “I’ll meet with Manano tomorrow and let you know what he says.” Joe set the photos under a crystal vase.

  “If he’s a crooked cop,” I stated. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”

  “Nothing new.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or should I say nothing more than what you do to me.”

  “You’re a regular comedian.” I crossed my arms. I loved my cousin dearly, but must he always be such a thorn in my side?

  “You two act like brother and sister.” Ethan took my hand and led me to the door. “See you at breakfast, Joe.”

  Breakfast! My own opportunity to ask questions. Why did I always take it as a personal challenge to solve a crime before Joe, who was much more qualified? We’d been in some form of competition our entire lives. Time to get over it.

  “Do you really think Manano is going to cooperate?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t. The man’s mixed up somehow, I just don’t know how.”

  A strange hissing flew past us, then the sound of a soft thunk. “What was that?” I whirled, trying to see in the glow of the moon and scattered decorative lighting.

  Eth
an peered at the wall behind us. “A dart. The kind that comes from a blow gun.” He straightened and grabbed my arm. “Let’s...”

  A sharp pain stabbed my thigh. Literally. I glanced down at a three inch dart sticking out of my leg. “I’ve been shot!” Mercy! My legs buckled.

  Ethan hefted me in his arms and dashed back toward Joe’s cottage. He grunted and stumbled, but kept going.

  Since we’d left, Joe had locked the door. Without setting me down, Ethan kicked at the door until Joe answered, dressed only in a pair of cotton shorts.

  “What?” One look at our faces and me in Ethan’s arms must have answered his question. He opened the door to let us in then slammed and locked it again.

  Ethan sat me on the sofa and lifted the leg of my pants. “I don’t know if we should pull it out or not.”

  “What if it’s poisonous?” I bolted up. “Yank it out.”

  Joe bent, then straightened with another dart in his hand. “This was in the back of Ethan’s calf.” He held it up to his nose and sniffed. “I don’t detect an odor.”

  “Another warning?” Ethan pulled the one from my leg.

  I hissed. “Someone shot you, too?” Oh, wait until I got my hands on that someone. I was used to getting shot at, unfortunately, but took personal offense when the target was someone I loved.

  A rock shattered the window. I screamed and dove under the coffee table.

  Joe picked up the rock and read what was on the paper wrapped around it. “Go home.” He sighed. “Guess I’m going to start wearing my gun.”

  Chapter Twenty

  My leg didn’t hurt too much the next morning, but I was tempted to stay in bed and pout anyway. Ethan was too worked up over our recent attack to make good on his promise to love me into oblivion. Instead, I showered and changed into a sundress, ready to take on a table full of suspects, I hoped. Most people couldn’t turn down a full made-to-order breakfast, and most mornings were no exception.

  When we entered the dining room, I glanced around before sitting at the table with the rest of my family. True to his word, Joe’s service revolver was in its holster around his shoulder. I wondered whether it was legal for him to carry it like that while not on duty, but wasn’t about to ask.