Mele Kalikimaka Murder

by Aimee Gilchrist

  Coincidence? I wasn't sure. I couldn't help but remember that recently when I was driving by the beach I had seen Mallory hanging out with surfers. They were the only people I had ever seen her with outside of the resort. Was it possible she'd known that other man?

  I would tell Georgie about Mallory once we were safely in the car. If I were polite, I would have let Georgie sit in the front seat, but I had no intention of doing that. The less time she spent near Alex, the better. I didn't need these kinds of additional complications right now. I could only see the way they were eying each other leading to disaster, and we were not allowed any form of disaster at the Aloha Lagoon Resort and Spa.

  To my surprise, Alex solved the problem before I had a chance to, opening the back door to allow Georgie inside. She flashed him a smile and some gratuitous skin before shutting the door. Maybe it wasn't about Alex specifically. Maybe she just couldn't help herself. Just like when Alex saw a pretty girl. They were hardwired, like primitive sluts.

  When I got into the car, he eyed me, and his expression was laden with meaning. Too bad I had no clue what that meaning was. Probably he wanted to know what was going on between Georgie and me, but there was no way in a thousand burning hells that I ever planned on giving him that information. It was embarrassing enough without anyone knowing. Especially Alex. There was something about the idea of him knowing I couldn't keep a fiancé that was beyond mortifying, even more so than the event had actually been.

  I took a deep breath and waited until Alex was back on the road before blurting out, "There's something I have to tell you."

  It came out sounding almost exactly like the way it sounded when someone was being laid off or when parents were getting divorced just one more time. She eyed me suspiciously. "What is it?"

  I licked my lips, my mind cruising through a list of possible ways to phrase the whole tragic situation. In the end, I went with the same thing I'd told my mother. "Mallory Langston passed away this afternoon."

  I included her last name because Georgie wasn't the best at remembering details, like that Mallory was now my assistant. If I just said "Mallory," she might not even realize who I was talking about.

  "Oh my gosh. Why? I mean, how?"

  I glanced back at her, and she really did look shaken. Georgie and I were both very good at hiding our feelings—must have been genetic—but we did it in different ways. Right now, though, being flippant and acting a bit stupid, Georgie's preferred method, wasn't really an option.

  "I'm not entirely sure. I just didn't want you to hear it from someone else or in barroom gossip." Since apparently murder was a hot gossip topic.

  She fell completely silent, and I was pretty sure she just didn't know what to say. I couldn't fault her. I didn't know what to do. I was completely at a loss, as I'd never dealt with something like this before, and I rather strongly hoped I never had to again. I could only scramble for something practical to think about so I could push away the horror of it all.

  "How long have you been waiting?" Alex asked conversationally, when no one spoke for a long time. I thought maybe he was just trying to diffuse the tension, but I really was curious how long she'd been here.

  "Oh—" She waved her hand dismissively. "I came ashore this morning. But I didn't spend all that time in Aloha Lagoon. I've been all over the island."

  I glanced at her and then sat forward in my seat. Where had Georgie been all this time? What had she been doing? Georgie was the only other person I was aware of who knew Mallory very well on the whole island of Kauai. They'd actually been friendly with one another, as much as one could be with someone a decade younger than you. It seemed impossible to even consider what her motivation for doing something like that could be, but it was also impossible to deny that Georgie most certainly had been in town long enough to have been the one to murder Mallory.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I pushed the thought away as soon as I had it. Georgie had a lot of faults. She would sleep with anyone for pretty much any reason. Things I wouldn't even have considered sufficient reasons to let someone borrow my phone would good enough reasons for Georgie to let someone borrow her vagina. She ran away constantly, never staying in one place for more than a few weeks at a time. And her departures were always at the worst possible time, leaving others—usually me—to deal with the ruins of the messes she made when she went.

  She would be willing to hand me a video of her and Jared in flagrante and vaguely tell me it was for my own good before leaving for Spain. She'd be willing to leave me with an entire wedding to cancel. But nothing would make me believe she'd be willing to take someone's life. Whoever had murdered Mallory, it wasn't Georgie.

  It took very little time to get back to the main building, illustrating again how pointless it had been that she hadn't just walked over, and I padded through the empty lobby, Georgie in tow. Alex bid us a hesitant good-bye and headed into the night to the little cottages on the beach that most employees elected to live in if they chose to live on property. They weren't the same as the huts used by the guests, but they were still nice. I wasn't a big fan of sand. Whenever I had things to deal with on the beach, half of it seemed to come back with me, and I spent the next week dumping grains out of everything I'd been wearing.

  Georgie took in the elegant lobby, from the granite floors to the perfectly designed lighting scheme, and let out a small whistle. "This place is swank. Very nice. Not too festive though." She would point it out.

  "It's festive enough for a five-star retreat. This is not a Motel 6."

  I'd denied the staff the right to use the eighty-five million boxes of garish decorations that Phillip had apparently loved. Even if I was still a fan of Christmas, I would have stopped them. "Understated elegance" was one of Freemont's key words, and I was nothing if not a Freemont creation. I had never known Phillip personally, though I had seen him at corporate retreats. He was rather difficult to miss with his deafening voice, overwhelming personality, and considerable girth. However, it was clear he'd done a very good job managing this resort, and his touch was everywhere, usually elegant and understated, the way Freemont wanted it. However, his almost fanatical love of Christmas had left the staff with some very bad ideas of what constituted proper holiday cheer and also some very tacky décor.

  "You used to love Christmas. I mean, you know, people here seem to have different taste, but this place would have been a waterfall of white lights on your initiative a couple of years ago."

  I shot her a look. "Yeah, weird how I no longer seem to appreciate that holiday spirit." I turned and left her without another word.

  I stepped up to the desk and asked Darcy Collins, the night desk clerk, for a list of open rooms. There were no rooms kept for employees. Mallory and I were the only ones who stayed inside the resort in a special set of suites designed for the manager, though Phillip, the only manager this place had ever had before me, and his wife had taken a house in town. The rest lived on the beach, like Alex and those who came from other places to work the summer months, or in town, where there were plenty of small houses staff could rent together to save on funds.

  Darcy manned the desk until morning, though we generally accepted no arrivals after nine PM. There was never a bad time for the guests to find they needed something, and someone always had to be there to provide it for them. There was an immaculately well-oiled, though considerably smaller, nighttime crew here at the resort to make certain that from housekeeping up to management there was always someone to solve problems and meet needs at Aloha Lagoon. Darcy pushed her bright red hair from her face and set to serious tapping. She was always perfectly efficient, though I often wondered how she could type with her ridiculously long nails. They were awful too. Sharpened to a point at each tip, which struck me as unbelievably dangerous. I'd take someone's eye out, if not my own. But she kept them perfectly manicured and was clearly able to meet the requirements of her job, so there was no complaint to be filed.

  "I'm struggling here. The place is fille
d up because of Christmas and all." She eyed Georgie. "However, since it's clear this is your sister, I'm going to see what I can do." I had no idea what that meant, but she spent several minutes typing in silence while Georgie took in every inch of the lobby like a dog in a new place. Finally, Darcy threw up her hand in triumph. "Ha. There you are."

  She reached under the counter and grabbed two card keys, taking a moment to program them. She slid them into a guest envelope illustrating some of our amenities and handed it across the kidney-shaped desk to Georgie, who had wandered back.

  "Room 259. It's on the second floor. I can call Jonah to get your bags?" Darcy flashed me a look as though she wasn't sure I would approve.

  My opinion didn't matter, however, since Georgie had no bags. "Oh, no. I'm good. Just this." She held up her one piece of luggage and waved the card keys in the air. "This is going to be so fun," she squealed. "Like being kids again."

  I was considerably less interested in a trip down memory lane, and I wasn't even sure why she was here, but she was my sister, and if she was here, clearly looking for something, I would take care of her, just as I always had since we were small. Even though I was just thirteen minutes older, there was no mistaking which of us was the older sister and no mistaking which of us the rest of the family, and seemingly the rest of the world, expected to take care of everything. Maybe because I always had and had made it very clear that I always would.

  * * *

  Morning came way too early. I hadn't slept well, with the dual stressors of Mallory's death and Georgie's oddly timed arrival. I grieved for Mallory, but there was nothing to be done but tuck my emotions away. The day was very full, and there were a million things to deal with today, and every other one of the five days between now and Christmas. I couldn't let a single thing slide, because this was Aloha Lagoon, and it wore the stamp of Freemont. There was a certain level of perfection to uphold. More importantly, however, this was the place guests had chosen to spend their holidays when they could have been anywhere else. I could never forget that what happened here mattered to them.

  When I got down to the lobby, Georgie was already there, working the crowd with a finesse I'd only ever seen in Alex. Too bad they'd be a violent train wreck together.

  I spotted the man whose card Detective Ray said Mallory had been holding when her body was found, clocking out of work for the day. Seth was young, maybe his midtwenties, but he'd been part of the night security staff as long as I'd been there. He was a good-looking guy, despite his unfortunately shaved haircut, with vivid green eyes and golden-blond hair, what there was of it anyway. He kept to himself, maybe even more than I did. I wasn't certain I'd ever seen him speaking to another person. So why had he given Mallory his card? If he hadn't given it to her, where had she gotten it? And the most important question of all was, why had she been holding it when she'd died?

  I wasn't interested in being a part of finding out what had happened to Mallory. I wanted to pretend it didn't exist at all. Still, the thing with the customer card was really bugging me. I approached him. "Seth, can I speak with you for a minute before you leave?"

  He turned and eyed me under aggressive eyebrows, his body language saying that he was considering telling me no. I suspected it was nothing except my name on his paychecks that kept him from doing that. He kept his hands in his pockets and backed up a step when I got too close. He was short for a man, but he was a bruiser, head to toe muscle. If he wanted to be, he'd be dangerous. He didn't speak, but he didn't leave either, which I took as his form of acquiescence.

  "You know, I was the one who found Mallory's body last night."

  Those eyebrows pulled together. I'd once read that the average person had approximately two percent Neanderthal DNA. I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Mr. Peterson here had more.

  He surprised me though. "I'm sorry. I've seen people die before, but that was on a battlefield. In a place where you feel safe, that must have been very unpleasant."

  I nodded. "It was. She…she had your customer card in her hand. Do you know why she had it?"

  His only reaction was an almost imperceptible jerk of his right hand inside his pocket. His expression didn't change at all. "I gave it to her. As to why she was holding it at that particular moment, I really couldn't say."

  "Why'd you give it to her?"

  He didn't answer me for a moment, so long that it became awkward. "I asked her on a date. She couldn't even remember my name. We flirted. I gave her the card. She said she'd remember it next time. Obviously, there was no next time."

  He was lying. I didn't know why, but nevertheless, it was clear he was. Maybe he had asked Mallory out. Maybe they'd even flirted. However, that wasn't why he'd given her the card. As a manager, I'd gotten used to hearing some whoppers from employees trying to get out of something—work, trouble, a promotion that would mean more responsibility they weren't ready for. I knew a lie when I saw one. Even when the liar had no facial expressions.

  I couldn't really call him on it. There was nothing to say. If anyone was going to ferret out Seth's motivations for lying, it would be Detective Ray, and not me. I nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that you were friends. I mean, I'm sorry for you, I guess, because you were friends. I'm not sorry that you were friends." Could I botch this up any more?

  "Same to you." He nodded very slightly, touching his front teeth with the tip of his tongue. I got the feeling he wanted to add something, but he didn't. He just nodded again, then turned and walked away. I watched him go, wondering what to do with the knowledge I now possessed that not only was Mallory holding that man's card when she'd died, he was lying to me about it.

  I returned to the lobby, took a deep breath, and crossed to Georgie. "How was your room?" I asked very politely, like I would to a complete stranger. I was probably ridiculous to even be waiting for an apology. It was pointless, as she'd never give one. And even if she did, it certainly wouldn't make up for what she had done, especially when she'd never behaved as though it mattered.

  She eyed me almost suspiciously. "It was fine. Afraid Mom was going to ask me if you gave me a nice room?"

  Trying to restrain a sigh was unsuccessful. "It's my job to worry about guests," I reminded her.

  "I'm not a guest. I'm your sister."

  There was nothing I could say to that. Sisters didn't do the things Georgie had done. Right now, I felt like she was a sister only in the sense that we shared the same parents. "There's a breakfast at the Loco Moco. I hear it's very good."

  Georgie gave a sigh to match mine. "Okay. I want to know how Mallory died. Can I ask the police?"

  I flinched. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, even though I'd have to face the whole thing eventually. "Maybe. I'm not sure they know."

  She cocked her head to the side. "How could they not know?"

  "Because it just…it wasn't clear. I saw her. I couldn't tell either."

  Georgie's face finally softened. "You saw her body? That must have been awful."

  My response was something between a shrug and a nod. I had no idea how to respond. It had been awful but not as awful as being murdered, and I was a weak person, one who didn't want to know the details.

  "The detective handling the case works in town. Maybe he can tell you something." She couldn't help but understand by now that my curiosity didn't extend as far as hers did.

  Her expression made it clear she thought I was in the wrong, but there was no changing my mind about this one. I didn't want to know what had caused Mallory's sightless stare and tangled limbs. If I never had to think about what I had seen again, it would be too soon. Nor did I want to have another discussion with Detective Ray. If Georgie wanted to touch on all of that, she was free to do so. I wouldn't be a part of it. If only the specter of Mallory's family wasn't there all the time, telling me I needed to know so that they would know. I pushed it all away.

  She gave me a loose wave and gestured outside. "See you."

  I said bye and watched her walk through the double glass
doors. A couple of men immediately stood from their casual reclined perusals of the paper, or people watching, and followed her outside. She was like the Pied Piper of men. I sighed and scooped up the left-behind papers, depositing them on the front desk.

  When I was nearly to my office in the back hallway, Jillian cornered me. "Oh, Miss Conner. I really just wanted to say how sorry I am about Mallory. You must be really bummed."

  Bummed. Indeed. "I've known her a long time," was all I said in response.

  Jillian nodded. "I know. You guys are always really busy. I'm sorry I didn't have time to get to know her better like some of the night staff did."

  I nodded, wondering if this was going somewhere important. "Yes, I kept her busy." It was a stupid throwaway comment. It didn't mean anything.

  I felt, more than saw, Alex sidling up next to me in the hallway. He took up all the air around me somehow, making it hard to breathe. I chanced a glance at him, and he looked like he was willing to hesitate for our conversation to finish, waiting his turn to speak with either me or Jillian.

  "I saw her a lot at Strangler's Cove."

  "Strangler's…Cove?" What a name. Was that a place? A bar? Kauai wasn't that massive of an island, but I made a point of not venturing outside of Aloha Lagoon. There might be something out there that would appeal to me, and I was trying my hardest not to find anything here appealing. Hawaii was a risk. The kind of place I'd fall in love with, if I wasn't ever vigilant. I couldn't afford to get too attached to any place, or anything.

  "Yeah, it's a place where some of the local surfers hang out. Pretty obscure. But the waves are bitchin'."