I nodded. "I knocked once and heard a weird noise, so I pushed it open. That's when I saw Mr. Cremshaw lying on the floor."
The detective tapped his pencil against his teeth in a thoughtful manner. "Any chance there could have been something wrong with the food?"
The color rose in Keanu's face. "What exactly are you suggesting, Detective?"
Detective Ray merely shrugged. "Maybe nothing. We have to wait for the autopsy to know for sure, but from what Carrie has told me, it sounds like Mr. Cremshaw could have eaten something that resulted in his death."
I knew Ray was testing us and didn't comment, but Keanu was visibly furious. He was always so laid back and mild mannered, but right now the vibrant blue of his eyes shot angry sparks at the detective, making my insides quake nervously.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady. "Look. The man said some rotten things on his blog and Twitter about the Loco Moco, but we didn't kill him because of it. That would be insane."
Detective Ray ignored Keanu and addressed me. "Carrie, did you see anyone else in the room with Mr. Cremshaw either time or any signs that someone had been there?"
That was when I remembered the drinks. "There were two glasses of mimosa—they were each about half-full when I went in with the cart the first time. Maybe someone was in the bathroom. I've heard rumors that he and his wife were having problems."
Detective Ray's face was unreadable. "I'm not interested in rumors, just the facts. So, either someone had recently left the room or perhaps they were hiding in the bathroom when they heard you at the door, is that what you mean?"
"I guess." My voice was on edge, and I longed for the line of questioning to be over with so that I could go home. In desperation, I clung to Keanu, and he sandwiched my hand between both of his.
"It's okay, baby," he whispered, as if reading my mind.
A small Asian woman approached us from the direction of Randolph's room. I vaguely recalled her entering the suite with another policeman while I was having my arms bandaged. She had long, sleek black hair, delicate porcelain skin, and dark eyes that were both observant and sharp.
Detective Ray stood when the woman reached us and offered his hand. "Nice to see you, Dr. Yoshida."
She grinned. "Come on. Is it ever really nice to see me, Ray?"
They walked a few steps away from us and huddled together, talking. "That's Dr. Aimi Yoshida from the coroner's office," Keanu whispered. "One of the staff pointed her out to me a while back when she was investigating another death here at the resort."
Cripes. How many people had died here? Was this the Bates Motel in disguise?
I cocked an ear in their direction. Dr. Yoshida talked in a normal tone while Ray was obviously trying to keep things on the hush-hush so we didn't over hear them.
"You know I hate to comment without all the facts, but it appears this might have been some type of poisoning," Aimi said. "That would be in line with the convulsions and the foaming at the mouth Mr. Cremshaw suffered before he died. But we'll have to wait for the toxicology tests to know for certain. All of the food and beverages he consumed will be tested as well."
I glanced uneasily at Keanu, whose mouth was drawn tight and grim. We both knew that there was no way the food could have been poisoned. Vivian and Poncho were the only other ones who'd had access to the cart's contents, and I'd personally stake my life on their innocence.
"Good," Ray said. "Apparently the staff told me on my way upstairs that he was some type of celebrity, a renowned food critic."
Aimi nodded. "I see what you're getting at. Yes, that should allow me the luxury of putting a rush on things, but the toxicology tests will still take several days at best."
She shook hands with Ray and gave Keanu and myself both a little finger wave before she disappeared back down the hall in the direction of Randolph's suite.
"Detective." Keanu's tone was quiet but firm. "I'd like to take Carrie home now. She's been hurt and needs to get some rest."
Despite the pain in my arms, I was okay, but didn't bother to contradict him. Keanu was beyond annoyed at the detective's implications, so it was better if we left as soon as possible.
Detective Ray picked up his pencil again. "Can I have both of your phone numbers in case I need to get in touch?"
Keanu rattled off our numbers, and Ray scribbled them down. "What about your parents, Keanu? Are they at the café now?"
"I believe so." Keanu looked at me. "Did you see them this morning before you left?"
And how. "Yes, your father and I spoke before he sent me over here."
Keanu narrowed his eyes. "My father sent you over? I don't like this. Why did he do that? It's not part of your job."
"It wasn't his fault," I added in haste. "Mr. Cremshaw asked for me specifically."
Detective Ray looked interested in this tidbit of information. "Mr. Cremshaw asked for you? Did he try anything while you were in the room alone with him?"
Keanu fumed in silence while I shook my head. "It was nothing like that. The man was rude and tried to annoy me. He complained that the coffee wasn't hot enough. I think he enjoyed the fact that he had us all groveling at his feet."
Keanu pursed his lips together, and there might have been actual steam pouring out of his ears as well. The entire episode wasn't painting his parents, me, or the Loco Moco in a very good light. Maybe I shouldn't have elaborated so. When would I learn to keep my big mouth shut?
Detective Ray put his pad away. "Was the review in the Aloha Sun today?"
"No," Keanu answered shortly. "Cremshaw had a popular food blog, and he also reviewed for Dining Is Divine. He told my father on the phone this morning that he might think about featuring his so-called review in there as well."
It appeared that Keanu had done his homework on Randolph too. I didn't know how much of a blog presence Randolph had, but if it rivaled his other accounts, we were done for. After he'd left the restaurant on Thursday I'd checked him out on both Twitter and Facebook. The man tweeted about 50 times a day, and it was usually something negative. He had over two million followers on Twitter and roughly 800,000 likes on his Facebook page.
Keanu put an arm around my shoulders and led me toward the elevator. "Well, if that's all for now, Detective, we'll be on our way."
"By all means." Ray's gaze met mine, and the smile he radiated had the power to send icicles down my spine. "I look forward to seeing you both again very soon."
CHAPTER FIVE
Keanu gripped the steering wheel tightly between his hands. "I feel awful that I didn't see your text right away."
My arms burned as I drew the seat belt across my lap. "Don't worry about it. When you didn't answer, I asked Rachel to go find you."
"I'm glad you did." As we drove out of the parking lot and headed for my apartment, he navigated the steering wheel with his left hand and reached for mine with his right. "You're more important than some dull meeting, or anything else, for that matter."
He was the first person to ever tell me such a thing. My emotions were raw, and I struggled for composure but it was no use. I wiped away a tear that dripped off my chin.
"You mean so much to me too."
Keanu drew my hand to his mouth before the light changed green. "Don't cry, sweetheart. I'm sorry you had to go through this. And I don't want you going back to the café. You need some rest. When you stopped in the ladies' room, I sent my father a text and explained everything that happened."
"Keanu," I began. "The restaurant is short staffed as it is."
He shook his head. "No arguments, Carrie. You've been through an awful ordeal."
"How'd you know about Randolph's blog?" I asked.
"My father sent me a message earlier this morning, before I went into the meeting. He's very good at expressing himself."
"What does that mean?"
He gave a wry grin. "He used all caps and several exclamation points. My guess is that he might have been acting a bit psycho at the café this morning."
I didn't answer.
Keanu blew out a sigh. "Frankly, I'm a little pissed off at my father for sending you over to the resort to grovel at that man's feet. The place was dead, so he should have sent Poncho. That wasn't your job."
"Well, Randolph did ask for me, so what was he supposed to do?" And why in God's name was I defending Keanu's father?
He flashed me a contrite look. "We didn't know anything about the guy, except that he's a public figure. What if he'd attacked you?"
"Please don't start anything with your father," I implored. "It will just make things worse."
He pulled his car up in front of my apartment building and stared at me, confused. "Make what worse? What are you talking about?"
Oh boy. This was uncomfortable for me to say. I didn't want to sound like a baby or put him at odds against his parents. "Your parents—well, at least your father—doesn't seem to like me very much."
His eyes widened in surprise. "Carrie, that isn't true. They just need to get to know you better. We'll have dinner with them soon."
Oh yeah, I was really looking forward to that event.
Keanu came around to help me out of the car and placed his arm around my waist as we walked toward the front door. I placed my key in the lock and hesitated. "Um—"
"What?" he asked. "Come on—out with it. We said we'd always be honest with each other."
I forced myself to look directly into his eyes. "Sometimes I feel like they think I'm not good enough for you."
His jaw dropped in amazement. "That's crazy. You're beautiful—inside and out—smart, warm, and kind. Everything that I desire."
My heart dissolved into a giant puddle at the words. Keanu was terrific for my ego. "Maybe my insecurities are working overtime."
Keanu put his hand over mine as I attempted to turn the knob. "Did my father say anything else to you?"
I didn't want to mention Terry's flare-up earlier. "He was fine."
"You're telling me the truth?"
I opened the door and pretended not to hear him. My apartment was on the first floor of a three-story brown stucco building. It was only an economy style, but I loved it anyway. There was a modest-sized kitchen, a small living room area, bathroom, and one bedroom. The entire space was only about 800 square feet, but size didn't matter. The overall effect was cozy and just right for me.
Benny, my orange and white cat, was waiting by the door for us expectantly. He glanced from me to Keanu and yawned, then meowed plaintively. When I picked him up, his paw hit one of my burn marks, and I winced in pain.
Keanu noticed my reaction and took Benny from me before I plopped down on the couch. "How's my buddy doing today?"
Benny meowed again in response, and Keanu scratched him behind his ears. I adored the fact that Keanu was an animal lover, and he'd regaled me with plenty of tales about the golden retriever he'd owned as a child. His current apartment building didn't allow pets, but he was looking around for another place—maybe even a house—where that would no longer be an issue.
Keanu's apartment was three times the size of mine, but he'd often commented that he preferred my place over his. I had recently bought a blue plaid couch with overstuffed pillows, a matching armchair, glass-topped coffee table, and an end table from a local secondhand store. The set worked well with the beige pile carpeting. In addition, I'd also bought an oak dresser and a new double bed with a mattress that was beyond comfortable. That was all I needed right now, besides, I couldn't afford anything else on my modest income. Keanu had offered to help financially many times, but I always refused.
Keanu knew that I didn't like to leave Benny alone for prolonged periods of time, another reason we spent more time at my place. Secretly, I was afraid that Terry or Ava might show up unannounced on their son's doorstep bright and early one morning and find me there. I had the distinct impression they thought we were sleeping together, even though that wasn't the case.
Keanu placed Benny on the floor and sat down next to me. He shrugged out of his suit coat, stripped his tie off, and pulled me into his arms. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Content, I rested my head against his muscular chest. "I'm okay, now that you're here."
He lifted my face between his hands, looked deeply into my eyes, and then brought his mouth down hard on top of mine. With a sigh, I placed my arms around his neck and closed my eyes. His lips, hair, the scent of his woodsy cologne—everything about the man was addicting. I wanted the kiss to go on forever.
In a couple of minutes, I'd rid Keanu of his oxford, and my stained Loco Moco shirt was lying on the floor next to it. He trailed a path of kisses down my neck and chest. His deft fingers were gentle on my arms, and he carefully avoided the bandages so as not to hurt me. Forget the burns. My entire body was on fire, and I might go up in flames at any moment.
Keanu's hands moved over my body and without meaning to, I stiffened. He sensed my hesitation right away and stopped kissing me, then drew back so that he could study my face. "Everything okay?"
I stared into his beautiful eyes, and my heart was instantly torn in two. Not knowing what to say or how to explain my behavior, I simply stared down at the floor. He exhaled a long, ragged breath and let go of me then reached for his shirt on the floor.
"Sorry," I whispered. "It's not what you think."
He spoke quietly. "Carrie, I'm never going to force you into something you're not ready for or that you don't want. But I have a feeling you're holding back for some other reason. Are you—" Keanu stopped, and his expression twisted into a frown. "Are you unsure about your feelings for me?"
"No!" Startled, I placed my arms around his neck. "Don't ever think that." I'm the problem.
He stroked my hair, his hands lingering on the strands for several seconds. "You're afraid that I might hurt you."
"I know you're not Brad. You really do care about me." This was the part that didn't make any sense. My relationship with Brad had always been more on a physical level than emotional. I could discuss anything with Keanu. In fact, we'd had several all-night gab sessions in person and over the phone. We were good together, and he'd never given me any reason to think he might be like Brad. So what exactly was I doing?
"I'm crazy about you," Keanu said in a low husky voice, and pulled me onto his lap for another kiss. His hot breath on my face drove me close to distraction. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be with you now—in the worst kind of way."
My entire body tingled at his words but I didn't reply. Besides Brad I'd only had one other serious boyfriend, who'd dumped me after graduation when he moved out west for college, taking a piece of my heart along with him. It was safe to say that my track record with men wasn't the greatest but I'd surmised from the beginning that Keanu was different from the rest. My brain knew this, but someone still needed to explain it to my heart.
"It's all right," Keanu kissed me again. "We have plenty of time."
Before I could respond, his phone pinged, and I moved off his lap so that he could answer it. His handsome face grew stern as he read the text.
"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly fearful.
He glanced up from the phone, clearly distracted. "Dad's asked me to come to the Loco Moco right away. Detective Ray wants my parents down at the police station for questioning, and they would like me to be present as well."
It shouldn't have come as a surprise that Detective Ray would be interrogating the Churches. Terry had talked to Randolph shortly before he died, and the café's food was the last that he had eaten before his death. But to think that his parents had anything to do with the crime was ludicrous. We'd been down this road before—not Keanu's parents, but the rest of us Loco Moco employees—when Hale had been murdered. It was a journey I had no desire to travel again.
"Your parents depend on you a great deal." I couldn't resist saying the words out loud, because it was the truth. They seemed to be dumping a lot on him all at once, and Keanu wasn't one to complain. At twenty-six, Keanu had b
arely gotten his feet wet as manager of the Loco Moco, and now they wanted him involved with their supermarket chain too. I suspected he worried about letting them down.
He shrugged. "I have responsibilities that I can't ignore, Care."
My phone pinged with a text from Vivian. So sorry about what happened! Are you okay?
I texted back. Better now, thanks.
She responded immediately. You left your purse here. Do you want me to drop it off at your apartment?
No, I'll come grab it. Keanu will drive me.
Vivian's next response came within seconds. No one expects you to come back to work. Sybil will be in early to cover. Coral went home sick. Like I really believe that one.
Coral's antics were the last thing I was worried about. Okay, see you soon. "I'm going with you," I said to Keanu and went to the bedroom to grab a new shirt. "My purse is still at the Loco Moco."
"Why don't you stay here and rest before the show? I can bring it to you later."
"No, I'll wait there until you get back from the station. I'd rather not be alone right now."
He frowned. "I don't think I can make the show tonight. Today's events have put me behind, and I have checks to write for vendors and payroll to report."
"It's okay," I assured him. "Tad can give me a lift when it's time. You came to the performance last night anyway."
His expression was suddenly pained. "Some days I'm not sure if I want all of this."
Oh God. My heart constricted inside my chest. Maybe this was why I'd been careful about us becoming intimate so soon. Keanu wasn't ready for a serious commitment either. Now I felt foolish. "I'm sorry. You don't have to come to the show again. Seriously, most people only go once. It's fine, really."
"Hey." He lifted my chin with his hand. "I wasn't talking about you. If it was possible, I'd be at every performance." His blue eyes shone as they stared into mine. "I was so damn proud of you last night. Not that I'm not proud of you the rest of the time too, but you know what I mean." He paused, a small catch in his voice. "You played the part so well, you almost had me convinced you really were sick."
Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 44