At the mention of her ex, the color drained from Erin's face. All the anger seemed to seep out of the woman, and her eyes pinched. "I don't want to talk about him," she said quietly.
"But he's the whole reason you were angry with Louana in the first place," I pressed.
Erin winced, as if the mere thought of her sleazy ex hurt her. "Have you ever been cheated on?" she asked.
I swallowed, forcing down my own wave of pain. "I have," I answered honestly.
"Then you know the anguish that comes with being betrayed like that," she said, tugging nervously at the sleeve of her dress. "How it feels to lose your own sense of confidence and self-worth because of some arrogant jerk."
I blinked at her. She'd hit the nail on the head. "Yeah. I do."
Erin stared at the ground, her expression hardening. "Then you should understand why I never want to hear that spineless douchebag's name ever again." Her back stiffened, and she moved away from me. "There. Your five minutes are up." Erin turned and stalked toward the jewelry displays. She snatched a gold bangle bracelet from the stand. "I'm not paying for this," she called out when Tonya made a squeak of protest. She slipped it on her wrist and disappeared through the shop door.
"Let her go," I said when Rose left her post near the changing rooms, hurrying toward the shop entrance. "I'll pay for it." Both Tonya and Rose gave me skeptical looks "It was a present," I lied.
I quickly handed Tonya my credit card and silently prayed she wouldn't press the issue. Thankfully, she didn't. I felt a pang of buyer's remorse as I scribbled my signature on the credit slip. Erin had grabbed one of our pricier bracelets. Trying to clear Aunt Rikki's name was getting expensive. I shoved my card back into my wallet, vowing that this time, I really was going to cut it in half as soon as I got home.
I made my way to the rear hallway to deposit my purse in one of the storage cubbies. As I went, my thoughts shifted back to my conversation with Erin. I wasn't sure what to make of the fiery young housekeeper. She claimed to want nothing to do with her ex, which would squash my theory that she'd killed Louana to get her out of the way so she could have Marco back. She'd also claimed her threats toward Lou had been empty—nothing more than drunk ranting.
But that look. I pictured the emotion that had passed behind Erin's eyes and the telltale tremor of guilt in her voice. Maybe the timing of her threat in relation to Louana's murder wasn't the coincidence she claimed. She'd certainly given me a lot to think about. Though I regretted that Erin had stormed out before I could coax her to give me her alibi for the rest of Saturday night, I hoped that the security footage that Jimmy Toki was reviewing would shed some light on the scorned housekeeper's whereabouts.
The next hour dragged on. Harmony had set up shop in Rikki's office to practice reconciling sales reports using notes that Rikki had provided for her. When I asked her if she'd been the one to tell the police about my aunt "assaulting" Louana in the employee parking lot, she gave me a wide-eyed look of mock innocence and claimed she didn't know what I was talking about. "You shouldn't go around accusing people of stuff, Kaley," she said with thinly veiled disdain. A sneer curled her lips. "Although, judging by the cellulite on those thighs of yours, it looks like jumping to conclusions is the only type of workout you've been getting lately."
I stalked out of the office before Harmony became the second Happy Hula assistant manager to be murdered in less than a week. I certainly didn't head straight for one of the changing rooms to evaluate my thighs in the full-length mirror. Nope. And the fact that I pulled my skirt down a little lower on my hips so that the hem line touched my knees was completely unrelated. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Jamie dropped in the store around two fifteen. She spotted me rearranging a rack of peasant tops by size and bounded toward me, a wide grin on her pretty face. I noted that she'd donned different clothes and fresh makeup since I'd last seen her. Today she was wearing a pair of green shorts with a white tank top that had two purple clams printed across the chest to resemble the seashell bra that Ariel had worn in The Little Mermaid. "Glad to see you made it home in one piece last night," I said dryly.
She winked. "Who says I made it to my home?" When I raised a curious eyebrow, she gestured to her outfit. "I always keep spare clothes in my car just in case. You never know when you'll need them." Jamie leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I met a hot surfer at the café last night after I left the pool. Let's just say the ocean isn't the only place where he hangs ten." She waggled her eyebrows.
"So we've already worked our way up to oversharing, I see." I smirked. "This friendship of ours seems to be moving awfully fast."
Jamie giggled. "Okay, fine. I'll dial back the kissing and telling—or the telling part, at least." She gently nudged me with her elbow. "But first you have to tell me how things went with Noa last night. Am I a great wing woman or what?"
I rolled my eyes. "You might want to work on your skills. You were about as subtle as a foghorn." A sigh slipped from me, and I shook my head. "Nothing happened though—and nothing is going to happen."
Jamie poked out her bottom lip. "Aww, why not?" she pouted. "It's obvious that you've got the hots for him. And the chemistry between you two is off the charts."
"Is it?" I frowned. While I still felt a strong attraction to Noa, I didn't get the impression that he felt the same way.
"Are you blind?" Jamie blinked at me. "Didn't you see the way he looked at you last night at the pool? Or at Beachcomber's? He ditched two hot chicks to take you home," she said, giving me a wry smile.
I wrinkled my nose. "I still don't get why he invited Harmony in the first place."
"Me neither." Jamie shrugged. "But who cares? Noa is into you. You're into him. Why are y'all making it so complicated?"
I hung another peasant top on the rack and then turned back to face her. "Because it is complicated." I sighed again, guilt settling heavily in my gut. "Has he told you that until this week, we hadn't even spoken in five and a half years?"
Jamie grimaced. "Yeah. But I only got the cliff notes version. Noa doesn't have the same oversharing issue that I do."
I glanced up as a petite woman with short gray hair ambled over and began browsing the rack to our right. "Do you have this in a four?" she asked me, holding up a lacy green Vera Wang dress.
I helped the woman find the size she'd requested. When she'd thanked me and headed toward the checkout, I turned back to Jamie. "I broke Noa's heart," I told her. "I loved him, but by the time he wanted to be with me, I was already engaged to Bryan—and then I left. I felt too guilty for hurting him to try to keep in touch." I felt my throat tighten. "The only reason he's even speaking to me now is because he's always had a soft spot for Aunt Rikki, and she needs our help. I'm not sure we'll ever repair our friendship, let alone start a relationship." I looked away so she couldn't see the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. "Maybe that's what I deserve after the way I treated him."
"Oh, Kaley. Bless your heart." Jamie reached out and patted my shoulder. "You've been holding on to that for years, huh?"
I forced a smile, though I was pretty sure she could see the pain in my eyes. "Yep."
An odd little smile played across her lips. "I really think you should talk to him about it. His side of the story is a bit different."
"What do you mean?" I blinked at her.
Jamie held up her hands. "Not for me to tell. Just promise me you'll talk to him, okay?"
I stared at her, my guilt dissolving into confusion. "Okay," I said after a moment.
"Good." She nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Well, I've gotta run. Hot Surfer Guy dropped me off here so I could get my car, and I figured I'd pop in to say hello before I head home. It's my day off." Her gaze shifted to the display of new bathing suit cover-ups I'd helped Tonya hang along the far wall earlier that morning. Her smile widened. "But first, I'm going to buy that adorable new coral crocheted tunic." She sighed. "I'm telling you, Kaley. I would go broke if I spent as much time in here as y
ou do."
"It helps to have the extra discount." I quirked my lips. "Resort employees get ten percent, but Happy Hula staffers get twenty."
"Jealous," Jamie sang, and she stuck her tongue out at me. "I'll catch ya later." She gave a little wave and then walked over to grab her new cover-up.
When she was gone, I finished reorganizing the rack of peasant tops, my thoughts still focused on our conversation. What had Noa told her about our falling out? How would it change anything? Even if he was over me, the fact that I'd completely thrown away our eighteen years of friendship by not keeping in touch was unacceptable. Just because Jamie thought that he and I should air our grievances, it didn't mean that anything I could say to him would make him forget how horrible I'd been. So, what did he tell her to make her think we could work things out?
I had to file it away for later thought when a door slammed, bringing my attention to the back hallway. Luka appeared on the sales floor, red-faced and features tight with anger. Sara was on his heels. The young cashier met my gaze as she followed after him. Though she kept her expression composed, I could see the alarm flash behind her eyes. A little red flag rose up in the back of my mind.
I hurried across the shop to intercept them before they reached the front door. "Luka, is everything all right?" I asked, keeping my tone even.
He halted, narrowing his dark eyes at me. "Everything is fine," he said, though the coldness in his voice suggested otherwise. "It's two thirty. I was only supposed to work from nine to two. I'm going home." He brushed past me and walked stiffly out the door.
I frowned. "What's wrong with him?" I asked Sara.
She shot a glance toward the cash register, where Tonya was busy wiping down the counter. "Can I talk to you for a moment in private?"
"Sure." I motioned for her to follow me to the back of the store. I leaned against the wall just outside Rikki's office and crossed my arms over my chest. "What's up?"
Sara placed her hands on her hips. "Luka just snapped," she said, her expression bewildered. "We were almost done unpacking the skirt delivery that came in today. I grabbed one of the tag guns off the shelf so we could put the price stickers on them, and I realized it was the one that Louana had labeled with her name." She shrugged. "I figured there was no point in keeping it on there, so I peeled it off. But Luka saw me do it, and he totally flipped out."
I squinted. "Why would he be upset about you removing the label?"
"It wasn't really about the label." Sara cast a glance over her shoulder, as if making sure we were really alone. When she met my gaze, her face pinched. "He started muttering to himself about how things were better now that Lou didn't have control over him anymore." Sara chewed her lip. "When I asked him what he meant, he wouldn't answer me at first. I probably shouldn't have pressed him, but I was curious."
"What did he tell you?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
Sara sucked in a breath. "Don't tell him I told you this, okay?"
"I won't."
"Luka said the reason he used to do all of Lou's chores for her was because she was blackmailing him. She said that if he didn't do whatever she told him to, then she would claim he'd sexually assaulted her." Sara grimaced. "Isn't that crazy?"
I stared at her, feeling the blood drain from my face. That was a very serious accusation. "Why didn't he tell Rikki?"
Sara shrugged. "No clue. This was the first I'd heard of it. I asked him how long it had been going on, and he said almost a month. At first she was only making him do mundane chores around work, but he said that over the past few weeks, she'd started harassing him on his off time—asking him to run errands for her and stuff." Sara puffed her cheeks, letting her breath out in a steady stream. "That's pretty heavy, right?"
I nodded. "Why did he seem so angry at you when he left?"
"Because I told him that he should report it." Sara stuck out her chin. "It doesn't matter that Louana's dead. Luka needs to tell the police. That way, they don't think he was trying to hide it from them, since that would seem suspicious. That's the right thing to do, isn't it? Tell the police?" Sara blinked at me, her narrow face twisted in a look of uncertainty.
"I think so," I said, smiling to reassure her.
"Thanks." Sara's shoulders sagged. "It was just kind of scary. He said he wished he hadn't told me—and then he said that if I told anyone else, he'd make sure I regretted it." She sighed. "I'm sorry I even asked in the first place."
"Well, I'm glad you told me," I said, squeezing her shoulder. I sent Sara up to the front counter to take over for Tonya, since it was time for both Rose and her to go home. I remained in the hallway, a dozen thoughts pinging through my mind. I felt bad that poor Sara had borne the brunt of Luka's anger, but she might have uncovered his motive for murder—which was more than I'd gotten out of the secretive stockroom worker.
Blackmail. That's what Luka's been hiding. If Louana had convinced Rikki or the police that he had assaulted her, it would have cost him a lot more than his job. He might have been arrested, and that would have followed him around for the rest of his life. Being charged as a sex offender could have potentially affected everything from college scholarships to job prospects. Could Luka have killed Louana to protect his freedom and future?
CHAPTER TWELVE
I sent Harmony out to the sales floor to begin preparing the mannequins for our Fourth of July weekend display, and I shut myself in Rikki's office. I spent the rest of my shift there, my legs curled beneath me on the desk chair as I worked on my aunt's laptop. I searched the vendor catalogs she'd bookmarked and ordered a shipment of Michael Kors peep-toe wedge sandals in three different colors. Rikki preferred to save electronic receipt copies in their own folder, so I saved a PDF file with the purchase and delivery information and dragged it toward a folder on the desktop labeled Orders.
As I saving the file, another little icon near the bottom of the screen caught my attention. It was the same little folder image, but it had Louana's name on it. My curiosity stirred. Though the folder probably only contained work-related documents, it couldn't hurt to take a peek. I double-clicked the little image, and a window popped up, revealing the folder's contents.
To my disappointment, there was nothing suspicious inside—no subfolders full of incriminating photos or documents labeled List of People Who Want Me Dead. All the folder contained were a couple of inventory spreadsheets and a list of other clothing vendors. I recognized the names of some. Louana had placed an asterisk next to the ones she'd browsed most often, including the online catalog I'd just visited to order the Michael Kors shoes.
One vendor was even highlighted in yellow. I copied the website URL from the list and pasted it into the internet browser, making a little squeal of delight when I spied an adorable yellow bikini with pink palm trees on it from Olivia Jake's new Island Punk collection. I was pretty sure we already had the same bathing suit in stock at the boutique. Louana must have ordered it from this vendor. The woman may have been nasty, but she had great taste in fashion, I thought, bookmarking the site so I could browse it when I placed our next product order.
The office door opened without warning, and Harmony stepped inside. "There's a woman at the front counter asking for you," she said in a bored tone.
I lifted an eyebrow. "She asked for me by name?" I wasn't expecting anyone. Had Erin come back to give me another tongue lashing?
"Yes." Harmony heaved an exasperated sigh. "For some reason, someone at this store actually wants to talk to you." She rolled her eyes and then flounced out of the office.
I (just barely) resisted the urge to make faces behind Harmony's back as I followed her to the front of the store. A woman in a pale blue skirt and white blouse stood with her back to us, waiting at the counter. Her reddish brown hair was rolled into a low bun at the nape of her neck. She turned around as I approached, and my stomach did a barrel roll. "What are you doing here?" I practically hissed at Felicity Chase.
The Aloha Sun reporter's lips stretched in a wide grin
. "Just the woman I wanted to see," she said, unaffected by my reaction.
I glared at her. "Aren't you banned from the resort? I'll call security."
Felicity laughed. "I'm not bothering anyone," she said. "I'm a paying customer." She held up a wide-brimmed beach hat and a brown short-sleeved Donna Karan dress that had been lying on the counter in front of her. She pushed them toward Sara and handed the young cashier her credit card. "Ring these up, please." Turning back to me, she added, "And as a customer, I asked to speak with the manager on duty." Her eyes gleamed. "So you have to talk to me."
I glanced at my watched and smirked. It was two minutes after four. "Sorry, but I'm off the clock." I unpinned my name tag from my blouse and pointed to Harmony, who was watching our exchange with her brows knit in confusion. "She's the manager on duty," I said, thinking this was the only time since I'd known Harm that I was actually glad to see her.
Felicity's lips parted. "But—"
"Sorry," I interrupted. I met Harmony's gaze, grinning. "Miss Chase is all yours."
"Okay," the brunette assistant manager said slowly. She looked from me to Felicity, squinting. "Hold up. You're Felicity Chase!" Her expression brightened. "I've seen your picture on the Aloha Sun website. I love your entertainment column."
"Thanks," Felicity said, looking pleased with herself. I spun on my heel, intent on retrieving my purse, when she reached out and placed a hand on my arm. "Kaley, wait," she pleaded. "Just give me a few minutes of your time, and then I'll leave. I promise." She gave me a sincere look. "I want to interview you about your attempts to clear your aunt's name in Louana Watson's murder investigation."
Both Sara and Harmony were staring at us now, their eyes narrowed in twin looks of curiosity. I felt my blood rush to my face. "Fine," I said through clenched teeth. "Follow me." I wrenched my arm out of the reporter's grasp and walked briskly back toward Rikki's office. As soon as the door closed behind us, I rounded on her. "How do you know about that?" I demanded, my anger bubbling over.
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