I took a step closer to him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Luka, did Louana do something to you?"
Luka pulled out of my grasp. "I don't wanna talk about her," he said, his tone gruff. He clenched his jaw, and I could see the tendons in his neck straining. A moment later the tension vanished. He picked up the box of coat hangers and smiled at me, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Want me to carry this out front for you?"
"Sure." I frowned when he turned his back on me. I'd struck a nerve—but why? What could Louana have done to upset Luka so badly? I couldn't let him change the subject when it seemed like I might be getting somewhere. "Luka, wait."
His body tensed. He set the box down and pivoted slowly to face me. "Yeah?" he asked, his tone impatient.
"If there's anything you know that might help prove Rikki didn't kill Louana, you'd tell me. Wouldn't you?"
His face hardened. "I don't know anything," he said. "And to tell the truth, I really don't care what happened to her. I'm just glad she's gone. She was the meanest woman on the whole island."
"Luka? Are you back here?" Harmony's voice echoed through the stockroom. Footsteps clicked across the wooden floor, and she emerged from around the corner a few moments later. "I need you to bring the ladder out front," she told him, ignoring me. "There's a woman who wants to buy the orange tankini off one of the mannequins from the display above the changing rooms. It's the only one in her size and that color that we have in stock." She rolled her eyes. "Personally, I think it's going to make that round belly of hers look like an oversized pumpkin, but whatever."
"Please tell me you didn't say that to the customer," I said, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.
Harmony waved me off. "Relax. She's pregnant. It's not like I'm calling her fat. And no, I didn't say it to her face." She shrugged. "But I can't help it if orange isn't her color." A mean-spirited smile crossed her lips as she glanced pointedly down at my top. "Just like yellow isn't yours."
Luka looked relieved that he had an excuse to get away from me. "Gotta go," he mumbled. He stepped around the box of coat hangers and hurried to fetch the ladder leaning against the far wall. He followed Harmony out of the stockroom without so much as another glance in my direction.
I self-consciously looked down at my daisy yellow sleeveless blouse. Whatever, I thought, frowning. I didn't have time for Harmony and her petty insults—though I was starting to think the wrong employee had her neck wrung.
I tried to make sense of my conversation with Luka. He'd gone to the luau on the night that Louana had been killed, which meant he'd been at the resort. He had also made it clear that he wasn't sorry the control freak assistant manager was dead. What had Lou done to Luka to make him hate her so much—and was it something worth killing over?
CHAPTER FIVE
Luckily for me, Sara was able to mend the blouse I'd mangled. I bumped into her as she was carrying it back to the stockroom. "Check it out," she said, holding up the flowery teal top. The loose button was expertly sewn back into place. She beamed proudly. "Good as new."
I blew out a sigh of relief as I took the expensive blouse and held it up for a closer inspection. I couldn't distinguish any difference in the new stitching and the old. I smiled at the young cashier, so happy that I could have hugged her. "I owe you big time," I said.
"It wasn't any trouble," she said with a shrug. "I love to sew. I'm actually studying fashion design and merchandising at school." She grinned. "I'm going to run my own fashion empire someday."
My smile widened. "Well, I'll be first in line to buy one of your dresses," I told her, winking. I glanced over Sara's shoulder toward the dressing rooms. Luka was climbing down the last few rungs of the ladder, the orange tankini gripped in one hand. He caught me looking at him and quickly averted his gaze.
"So what's Luka's deal?" I asked Sara in a low voice.
She knit her pencil-thin brows together. "What do you mean?"
I raised my shoulder and then let it fall. "I don't know," I said honestly. "I just get this weird vibe from him. I asked him a few questions about Louana, and he sort of clammed up on me."
"What kind of questions?" Sara eyed me with a look of uncertainty.
"I wanted to know if he knew who might have killed her."
Sara frowned. "I thought your aunt asked us not to talk about that at the shop." She darted a glance toward Rikki's closed office door. "I don't want to get fired," she said in a hushed voice, backing slowly away from me.
I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "Hey, I won't tell if you don't—but I can't sit back and let Aunt Rikki take the fall for something she didn't do." I took a step toward Sara to close the gap between us. "I didn't know Louana personally, but from what I encountered of her, she didn't seem like the most pleasant person. I'd think a woman like that probably had a lot of enemies." I wrinkled my brow. "So as far as I know, her killer could be anyone."
Sara nodded and gave me a sad little smile. "For what it's worth, I don't think Rikki did it, either. She's the kindest person I've ever met—and I'm not just saying that because she's my boss." We fell silent as Luka strode past us, the ladder hoisted over one shoulder. When he was out of earshot again, Sara leaned close to my ear. "I don't know if this will help, but you could try talking to Lou's boyfriend."
A boyfriend? I felt a seed of hope blossom in my chest. The police would have to question him, wouldn't they? Even if Detective Ray didn't talk to the man, I certainly would. "Do you know his name?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.
Sara's nose scrunched up. "Hmm. Mario? Or maybe Marco." She nodded to herself. "Yeah, Marco. That sounds right. Louana was pretty hung up on him. She said he worked in the main lobby as a bellhop." The young cashier furrowed her brow. "He came in the store once last week, actually. They had an argument about something, and then he left. He seemed pretty mad." Sara looked past me toward the front counter, and her eyes widened. "Whoops! Customers. Gotta go."
I followed her gaze. A pair of teenage girls had wandered up to the counter and were browsing the jewelry racks. Sara hurried behind the register and greeted them. I crossed the sales floor after her, my insides buzzing with excitement. I was still curious about Luka, but an angry boyfriend? Surely that was a solid lead. If Marco was a bellhop at the resort, it was a good bet that he spent most of his time around the elevators and near the entrance to the main lobby, waiting to assist guests who needed help handling their luggage. I made up my mind to swing through there after work to see if I could find him.
I spent the rest of my shift helping Rose hang the new shipment of blouses and dresses that had been sitting in the stockroom. Since we'd started work when the boutique opened, Rikki and I finished up at four, leaving Harmony to close the shop at eight. I told Rikki I would meet her in the employee parking lot and then hurried over to the main building.
Dozens of resort guests moved about the lobby on their way to a late lunch at the Loco Moco Café or midafternoon drinks at The Lava Pot. I spied a tall, skinny bellhop with dirty blond hair just outside the main entrance. He was unloading luggage from the back of one of the shuttles run by Gabby's Island Adventures. Crossing the lobby, I slipped through the double doors and approached him. "Excuse me," I called, waving to get his attention.
The young man set down the duffel bag he'd been holding and looked up at me, his brow lifted in question. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.
I glanced at the name tag on the front of his Aloha Lagoon polo shirt and tried to hide my disappointment. He wasn't the man I was looking for. "Sorry to bother you, Chad," I said. "I was just wondering if Marco is working today."
Chad the bellhop shook his head. "Nope. Marco has Monday evenings off. He performs at the open mic night over at Beachcomber's."
Good to know. I grinned, an idea forming in my head. I thanked Chad and pulled my phone out of my purse as I walked through the lagoon, working up the nerve to dial Noa's number. He answered on the second ring. "Remember how
you said to let you know if I needed help clearing Rikki's name?" I asked, trying not to sound as shy as I felt.
"Of course."
"Well, I'm calling in the favor. Got plans tonight?"
"Does binge watching the latest season of House of Cards count?" He chuckled. "I just wrapped up a big design project for one of my freelance clients, so I was hoping to unwind a little. What did you have in mind?"
"Well," I hedged, feeling my face flush. "What if I told you that my plan includes drinks and live music at Beachcomber's?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I worried that he was going to say no. "I could use a drink," he finally replied.
Cool relief slipped through me. I really didn't want to go alone. "Great. Pick me up from Rikki's around eight thirty?"
"Sure. See you then."
I was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the conversation had gone. Sure, Noa was only coming along to help Aunt Rikki, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited at the chance to hang out with him. Just remember it's not a date, I told myself. While this could be the first step to repairing our friendship, part of me knew there was no use in getting my hopes up when it came to romance.
When Noa arrived at Rikki's house later that evening, I was sitting on the front porch waiting for him. Aunt Rikki was meditating in the living room, and I didn't want to disturb her. I figured she needed all the peace she could get.
Noa was dressed in khaki shorts and a black polo shirt. His dark hair was down today, spilling around his shoulders. I wondered briefly what it would be like to run my fingers through it. Focus, Kaley. You're on a mission tonight, and it doesn't include fantasizing about your former BFF.
Noa's eyes widened a fraction of an inch as he looked me over. "You look great," he said.
I beamed. "Thanks." I'd changed into a tight-fitting green dress and brown Steve Madden gladiator sandals that laced up my calves. I hadn't enjoyed a night out in months—and no one ever said sleuthing wear couldn't be fashionable.
Noa started to lean in for a hug and seemed to catch himself. He pulled away at the last second, leaving me standing there with my arms awkwardly half-raised. "Ready?" he asked.
I dropped my arms back down to my sides. "Yep," I said, trying to hide my embarrassment under the guise of stooping to grab my purse off the porch. "Let's go." I moved past him, silently berating myself for almost hugging him. I strode toward the Jeep, which he'd parked by the curb.
"So how will going to Beachcomber's help Rikki?" he called as he followed me.
I might have blushed a little when Noa opened the car door for me. It's probably just an old habit, I told myself. He had always been somewhat of a gentleman. "Louana's boyfriend is performing at their open mic night," I told him. "I want to ask him a few questions, and I figured it couldn't hurt to bring backup."
Noa climbed into the driver's seat and faced me. "You think the boyfriend killed her?" he asked, his tone skeptical. "Isn't that a little too obvious?"
"Probably." I shrugged my shoulders. "But I'd still like to feel him out. Anything to take some of the heat off Rikki." I was a "leave no stone unturned" kind of girl.
I filled Noa in on the incident with the old cashier, Dorothy, who had quit her job at Happy Hula earlier that morning. He frowned. "Poor Rik. It's already starting to affect her business, huh? How's she holding up?"
"You know Rikki." I sighed. "She's trying to stay positive, but I can tell it's tearing her up inside."
Noa gave me a sidelong look. I nearly jumped when he reached an arm across the front seat and patted my shoulder. "You're going to get through this. Both of you."
"Thanks." I relaxed a little, leaning my head back against the passenger seat headrest. I had to admit, even if things weren't back to normal between us, I was thankful that Noa was there. Would Bryan have been this supportive? I wondered, though I already knew the answer was a big, fat no. My ex had only cared about his football career and his reputation. I'd been nothing more than arm candy for the ESPY Awards and other photo ops. Noa, on the other hand, had always treated Rikki like part of his own family—and he still did even now, despite the pain I'd caused him. Guilt twisted my insides. This was just another reminder that I'd really blown it when I'd broken his heart.
We arrived at Beachcomber's ten minutes later. The dive bar was three miles from the resort in a thatch-roofed building that backed up to the water. A small neon blue sign above the door was the only indication that we'd reached the right place. The interior was dimly lit by several overhead lights and half a dozen tiki torches that boasted colored light bulbs rather than open flames. An array of surfboards, dried starfish, and other beach paraphernalia were sprawled across the dark walls, and the bar had images of mermaids and sharks carved into the wood.
Noa and I found a quiet booth near the stage and slid in. A server came over to take our drink orders, and I asked her when the open mic performances began.
"We usually run from nine thirty to eleven thirty, depending on how many performers there are," the young woman said, slipping her notepad into a pocket on her apron. "If you're thinking about signing up, we've got space for another song or two tonight." She smiled encouragingly. "Want me to add you to the roster? First prize is three hundred bucks."
I swallowed. Three weeks ago that wouldn't have seemed like much money to me, but that was before I'd lost access to the joint bank account I'd shared with Bryan. Now three hundred dollars would go a long way toward padding my quickly dwindling savings. Too bad I couldn't even carry a tune in my designer handbag. "No thanks," I smiled, suddenly feeling sheepish. "I think I'll just watch."
"You sure, Kales?" Noa teased when we were alone again. "I seem to remember you giving the performance of a lifetime at the Aloha Junior High Talent Show."
I grimaced. "It was a showstopper, all right." Only because I'd been a little too enthusiastic with my dance moves and had wound up falling off the stage and fracturing my ankle. No one had told me that you weren't actually supposed to break a leg in show business.
The waitress returned with our drinks just as the MC strode across the stage, microphone in hand. "Aloha and welcome to Beachcomber's Open Mic Night, where the island's best musical performers compete for glory—and a cash prize!" Cheers and bursts of applause sounded around the room. The man waited until the noise died down and then raised the microphone to his lips again. "First up tonight we have a singer-songwriter from Lihue. Let's give it up for Ariel Sanchez!"
A waifish young woman with waist-length red hair wandered onto the stage, lugging a barstool in one hand and a ukulele in the other. She perched on the stool and nervously told the audience that she'd written this song about falling in love with a boy named Eric she'd met at Shipwreck Beach.
The girl launched into her sappy acoustic ditty, and I sipped my pineapple daiquiri as I scanned the room. There were several men seated alone at various tables around the little bar. I wondered if one of them was Marco. I'll find out soon enough, I thought eagerly. If Chad the bellhop was right, Louana's beau would probably take the stage before long.
Returning my attention to Noa, I found that he was staring past me. I sent a glance over my shoulder, following his line of sight. He appeared to be watching the entrance to the little bar. I turned back around to face him, brow furrowed. "Are you expecting someone?"
Noa's gaze snapped back to me, and his cheeks colored. I'd known him long enough to recognize the glint of guilt in his eyes. "Yeah," he said, his tone sheepish. "I figured if we were going to be hanging out at a bar and having a few drinks, I might as well invite a couple of friends."
"Oh." I hoped he didn't hear the disappointment in my voice. Was Noa still so hurt that he couldn't even stand to be alone in the booth with me? "Cool," I said, recovering quickly. I forced a smile. "I wouldn't mind making a few new friends myself now that I'm back on the island."
As if on cue, a slender blonde woman sauntered over to our table. I didn't realize Gwyneth Paltrow had
a younger sister, I thought, sizing her up. She was tall and supermodel gorgeous, with short sandy hair and aquamarine eyes. Her denim cutoff shorts showed off her tan, muscular legs, and she wore a black tank top with the words Part-Time Mermaid printed across the front. "Hi, Noa," she said cheerfully as she reached our booth.
I sucked in a breath, expecting her to lean down and plant a kiss on his lips. Of course Noa had a girlfriend. I should have been happy for him, but a certain little green monster was clawing its way out of its cage in the back of my mind.
To my surprise, the blonde didn't climb into the booth and start smooching my ex-BFF. Instead, she slid in next to me. "So you must be the infamous Kaley."
I cringed at her use of the word infamous. I could only imagine the horror stories she'd likely heard about me from Noa. As far as she knew, I was probably the cold-blooded dragon lady that had stomped on his heart and flown off into the sunset with the king of douchebag jocks.
I took a sip of my daiquiri, thinking that I was going to need something stronger. "Guilty," I said, giving her a halfhearted smile.
A lopsided grin crossed the woman's narrow face. "Jamie Parker. Nice to meet ya." I stuck out my hand to shake hers, but she pulled me in for a hug instead.
I risked a glance at Noa and found him watching us, his lips curled in amusement. "Jamie's the scuba diving instructor at the resort," he said.
"Yep." Jamie released me and cocked her head. "Are you certified? You should totally come out on the water with me sometime."
I nodded. "I used to dive with my aunt at Lehua Rock every summer."
Her face lit up. "Rikki? I love her!"
I arched a brow. "You know my aunt?"
Jamie flashed me another toothy smile. "I'm probably her best customer," she said. Her cheeks colored. "Employees of the resort get a ten percent discount, and I've got a bit of a shoppin' problem. I swear if I worked there, I'd blow through my whole paycheck before I left the store."
I hadn't realized how tense I'd been until the muscles in my shoulders began to loosen. I found myself genuinely liking the woman. Her bubbly personality was infectious, and her southern drawl reminded me of my years spent in Atlanta. "Where're ya from?" I asked, slipping into my own version of a Georgia lilt.
Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 25