Keanu grimaced. "Sounds like Belinda could be a potential suspect, along with Randolph's brother."
"Isn't it a known fact that the police always look at the spouse first?" Well, besides me that is.
He grinned. "Ask Vivian if she has any information on the brother."
I tapped my phone and read the rest of the book-length text Vivian had sent me. "I'm way ahead of you. His brother's name is Richard, and he lives in Hawaii. They both grew up in Honolulu, but Richard has a house in Poipu."
Keanu's eyes sparkled with a mischievous expression. "Maybe we can talk to him too, Sherlock."
"It's all elementary, my dear," I teased.
He grabbed my hand and led me toward the reception desk. "Come on. I know the girl who's working today. She'll help us out."
A tall, skinny blonde was stationed behind the counter, talking to someone on the phone. She appeared younger than me and wore the hotel uniform of blue polo shirt with the Aloha Lagoon logo embroidered over her left breast pocket. Her name tag read Summer. The perfect name for a girl who lived in paradise.
She said "Goodbye. Enjoy your stay" to the party on the other end and glanced up. When her eyes focused on Keanu, I saw them brighten in delight. Ugh. I was starting to get used to seeing women act this way around him.
"Hi, Keanu," Summer said breezily. "Is everything okay in your room?"
Keanu's parents kept a suite year round in the resort. When I had briefly needed a place to stay a couple of months back, he'd been kind enough to offer the room to me. He'd always come through for me in a big way and never let me down. The word unreliable was not in his vocabulary.
"Just fine," he said and gestured at me. "Summer, this is Carrie. We were wondering if you might help us out with something."
"Of course." She smiled at me. "What do you need?"
Keanu leaned forward on the marble counter. "Can you tell us if Belinda Davenport has left the hotel yet this morning?"
I loved Keanu's tactics. He didn't ask if Belinda was staying there, just made it appear that we already knew her whereabouts.
Her pleasant face twisted into a frown. "Sorry, but I'm not supposed to reveal any information about her while she's staying here. She's requested total anonymity."
Thank you, Summer. That was all we needed to know.
Keanu gave her a long, sexy smile. "Of course. I understand. We know she's in suite 707 but didn't want to head up if we'd already missed her. She's got a full morning ahead of her."
Her mouth opened in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were friends with her."
"I don't know her that well," Keanu admitted, "but she has a relationship with my parents, and we need to discuss a few things."
That was putting it mildly.
Summer shrugged her skinny shoulders. "She requested room service from Starlight this morning. I know the server who brought her tray up. He stopped to talk to me on his way back to the restaurant and mentioned that she didn't even bother to tip him. I haven't seen Miss Davenport in the lobby yet, but she could have left while I was busy with guests. Do you want me to ring her room for you?"
Keanu straightened up. "Not necessary, thanks. I'll let Mom and Dad know."
He gave her another winning smile while Summer flushed appreciatively and lowered her eyelashes. The man did know how to pour on the charm when necessary. It had to be a gift. "Have a great day," he said.
"You too." Her phone rang, and I heard her light, airy voice speaking into it while we walked toward the elevator. "Good morning. Aloha Lagoon Resort. How may I assist you?"
"At least we know she's here," Keanu said as we got into the elevator. "And I have another idea."
"You're just full of them this morning," I teased.
When we reached the seventh floor, Keanu let me go ahead of him, but as I started in the direction of Belinda's room, he suddenly caught my arm. "What are we going to say to her?"
"I have a plan, don't worry." It was quite a ridiculous one but all I had to work with right now. Hopefully, we could pull it off.
As we started down the hallway, a tall, willowy blonde stood in the doorway of suite 707, talking to someone in a raised voice. Curiosity nagged at me. Who was in Belinda's room? Another man? That wouldn't exactly be discreet behavior for a woman whose husband had just been killed.
"Let's wait by the elevator," Keanu suggested and led me back in the direction of the rattan chairs.
A few seconds later, Belinda passed us in an obvious huff. She wore a pair of silver stiletto sandals that were at least four inches high and an expensive black halter dress studded with rhinestones. Her long blonde hair was swept up in a French twist. The woman reeked of elegance, and her figure was excellent. Her face, however, was drawn so tight underneath the carefully applied makeup that I wondered if she'd had one too many Botox treatments.
As Belinda rang for the elevator, she glanced suspiciously at me. Then her eyes traveled to Keanu and did a full body scan.
Here goes nothing. I cleared my throat. "Miss Davenport, how excellent. I was just coming to look for you."
She gave me an icy blue stare. "Who the hell are you? Another reporter? Get lost, and let me grieve in peace."
Call me crazy, but the woman didn't appear to be grieving as she removed a compact from her purse and applied a careful coat of lip gloss to her overly plump lips.
I plodded on. "My name is…Chelsea. I work for Ron Howard." Where the heck did that come from? I had been tempted to give Howie's name, but there was a chance she knew him through her husband.
Belinda's eyes almost bugged out of her head. The elevator dinged, and the door opened, inviting her to enter, but she chose to ignore it. "Ron Howard? You mean, the director? A.k.a. Richie Cunningham?"
"The one and only," I assured her.
She studied me carefully. "He's here? In Hawaii?"
"Oh yes. Mr. Howard adores a tropical climate."
Her eyes moved to Keanu again, and I thought I spotted some drool collecting in the corner of her mouth. "And who might this gorgeous hunk be?"
"Victor," I said hurriedly, afraid that Keanu might screw something up. He wasn't as good at the lying gig as me. "He's Ron's key grip boy."
Keanu stared at me, puzzled, then smiled and gave Belinda a perfunctory bow. "Nice to meet you, Miss Davenport. If you get the part, it would be an honor to carry your bags anywhere."
Head smack. I elbowed him in the side and gave a small laugh to cover up the awkwardness. "Such a kidder. He meant that he looks forward to shooting you at the perfect angle with the cameras. Isn't that right, Vic?"
Keanu got the message and nodded, careful not to say anything further.
Belinda glanced from Keanu to me. "What picture is this?"
Oh boy. Now I'd really painted myself into a corner. Keanu stared at me with a sly smile that seemed to say, Let's see you get out of this one. I had never been creative at making things up on the spot, and the first image that popped into my mind was of Benny. "Uh, it's called Nine Lives."
To my surprise, Belinda looked intrigued. "Really? A comedy?"
I shook my head. "No, a thriller. Ron's producing it himself. Anyhow, he thinks you'd be perfect for the part of waitress Vivian. Do you have a card I can give him?"
She reached into her black leather Gucci bag and handed me a business card that I surveyed with interest. Belinda Davenport, model and actress for hire.
"When should I expect his call?" she asked eagerly.
"Oh, anytime now," I said. "Maybe even within the next hour."
Belinda made a face. "Shoot. I'm headed over to the police station to meet with some stupid detective about my husband's death. I won't be available until this afternoon."
Here was the opportunity we were looking for.
"We were very sorry to hear about that," Keanu put in.
The pencil-thin eyebrows rose slightly as her eyes traveled down Keanu's physique and then slowly—very slowly—back up until she met his gaze and rewarde
d him with an adoring smile. "My goodness, Victor. How old are you, doll?"
The color rose in Keanu's cheeks. "Twenty-six, ma'am."
She licked her lips. "That's only a 15-year difference. No big deal."
I clenched my teeth together in irritation. "Um, Mr. Howard sends his condolences about your husband."
Belinda waved a hand impatiently. "Tell him thanks, but it is what it is." She studied her French-manicured nails as if the topic now bored her. "To tell you the truth, I'm not surprised. No one liked him very much. Some days I had trouble myself."
Wow. Tell us how you really feel. "Do you have any idea who might have killed him?"
She frowned. "Well, that locomotive restaurant is at the top of my list. Apparently Randy said some nasty things about the place, so the owners obviously wanted him dead. Once all the tests come back on him, my lawyer will be slapping a big-time lawsuit on that piece-of-crap establishment."
A muscle ticked in Keanu's jaw, and I found myself holding my breath. It must have been difficult for him to listen to Belinda insulting the Loco Moco, but he said nothing.
"Anyone else?" I prompted.
"There's too many to count, honey. He's got enemies going back to his college days, maybe even before. Anyhow, what is this, the Spanish inquisition?"
Footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned around. A tall, slim man with light brown hair pulled in a ponytail was approaching us. He had dark eyes set in a serious face with a pale skin tone. He looked to be around Belinda's age. There was something distinctly familiar about him, especially his eyes, but I couldn't quite place it.
He ignored both of us and placed a hand on Belinda's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I had to take that call. I didn't think you'd still be here."
Anger flashed in Belinda's crystal clear blue eyes. "Go back to your lousy phone. I don't need you." She rang for the elevator and then noticed Keanu and me watching in obvious interest. Her face colored slightly. "Uh—this is my brother."
The man's dark eyes widened in surprise, but he gave us both a curt nod. Belinda addressed him again. "You can't come anyway. It would look…bad."
The elevator pinged, and Belinda hurried inside. "Tell Ronnie I'll be waiting for his call." Her eyes lingered on Keanu one last time before the door closed.
Keanu turned toward Belinda's so-called brother and stretched out his hand. "Hi, I'm Victor."
The man merely grunted and turned on his heel, walking back in the direction of Belinda's suite.
"What the hell was that about?" Keanu wanted to know.
I twisted my long braid around my fingers, a perpetual habit of mine when I was nervous. "No idea. For some strange reason, I don't think that was Belinda's brother though."
Keanu folded his arms across his chest, and his face grew pensive. "Boyfriend, perhaps?"
I nodded, the familiarity of the man nipping away at my brain like a woodpecker. "I feel like I've seen him somewhere before."
Keanu's phone pinged, and he drew it out of his pocket. His expression grew stern as he read the message silently and typed out a quick response.
"What's wrong?" My first thought was that someone else had died. Unfortunately, that was the way my life rolled lately.
He sighed in frustration and rang for the elevator. "That was Dad."
My biggest fan. "What'd he say?"
"He and my mother are flying to Arizona today. There's a problem with one of the supermarkets. If all goes well, they'll be back by tomorrow. I've got to get over to the restaurant right away."
Too bad I wasn't working today. The place was always so peaceful when Terry wasn't around. "What sort of problem?"
"It seems that the manager in Phoenix has forgotten how to manage," Keanu quipped. "Two of the employees had a fist fight last night. It was over something ridiculous, but the morale there is almost nonexistent. Mom and Dad want to meet with all of the employees in the entire store and at the other location nearby." He ran a hand through his hair as his phone pinged again, and then swore softly under his breath.
"Now what?" At least the messages didn't concern me.
Keanu typed out a reply. "My father checked the footage from the camera this morning, and it caught one of our employees with some very sticky fingers. He wants me to talk to this person while they're gone. Great fun that's going to be."
Uh-oh. "Is this who I think it is?"
He grimaced. "Yeah. It seems the camera caught our friendly server Coral with her hand in the till, removing a pile of fifties and twenties."
CHAPTER TEN
"He was in the audience this afternoon, you know," Rose remarked.
"Who are you talking about?" I hung my costume on a wire hanger in the wooden closet then tossed the pinafore apron and bonnet onto the shelf above it. It was a relief to be out of that dress. It itched to no end, and the fabric was heavy and uncomfortable. No wonder women from the 1800s always looked miserable in those black and white photographs.
Rose was sitting at the makeup table that we shared with the other girls. She brushed her sun-streaked blonde hair over her shoulders and smiled with satisfaction. "Howie Livingston, of course. Seriously, was there anyone else in the audience that mattered? I was spot on with my performance today too. He even stopped me afterwards to tell me what a great job I had done."
"Congratulations, that's terrific." I pulled on my T-shirt and jeans. Right now, my mind was preoccupied with other things than the show, such as the fact that Detective Ray was taking a good hard look at me and the Loco Moco.
Rose continued to watch me in the mirror, a smug look on her face. "Did he say anything to you?"
"No." Rose was okay—a little stuck on herself perhaps, but hey, if Howie wanted to transport her off to Hollywood, I wished her well. I always tried to look at life with the glass is half-full analogy. Maybe if Rose left, I'd get a lead role in the next production.
There were no more performances until Friday, five days away. Jeff had mentioned that he might call us in for a rehearsal one night, but other than that, we were on our own until the weekend. Thank goodness for small favors. As much as I loved performing, everything had begun to wear on me, and I needed a breather. Plus, I was scheduled to work every day this coming week. The rehearsals and performance schedule had been cutting into my pay, and I sorely needed the money.
Keanu was picking me up at my apartment in about an hour, and we were going out to dinner tonight. Afterward he'd planned to head over to Coral's house to speak with her. She'd called in sick today, and because of my absence, Keanu had been forced to ask Anna to come in again. Keanu had told me in an earlier text that he'd had enough of Coral's antics. This was the first time he'd ever had to fire an employee, and I knew he wasn't looking forward to it. Still, he readily accepted the fact that it was his job, and these things came with the territory. Keanu would be fine. In my opinion, there didn't seem to be anything he couldn't handle.
My heart swelled with pride as I thought about my boyfriend, and every day I fell a little harder for him. Although I wouldn't admit it to anyone, I was scared of my feelings and uneasy about giving my heart away. It had been broken so many times during the course of my life that I wasn't sure it could be repaired again.
"Did you hear what I said?" Rose asked, her voice tinged with impatience.
I jerked myself out of my thoughts. "Oh sorry, no."
"I overheard Howie tell Jeff that he wanted to get together tomorrow and discuss some things." Her face glowed. "Maybe I'll get a call to come and meet with them."
"Good luck. I hope it works out."
"Yoo-hoo!" Tad's voice resonated from the other side of the dressing room door. "Is everyone decent in there?"
I grinned. Tad was the breath of fresh air I sorely needed right now. "Come on in."
Tad opened the door. He was still wearing his Hana Hou T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He gave Rose a prissy smile that she returned and then addressed me. "Ready to go, love?"
"I think so." I turned around
to say goodbye to Rose, but she was already on her cell, chatting to someone about how terrific her performance had been.
"Phew," Tad complained as we descended the stairs to the lower level. "That chick is so self-absorbed it makes me want to gag. You should have seen her fawning all over Howie after the show. Positively sickening."
"Well, it sounds like he might be interested in her. I understand how excited she must be." Seriously, it had to be a dream come true and difficult for me to not be envious of her.
"I thought you were terrific today, hon," Tad said. "You were off yesterday, which is understandable after what happened. But today you totally rocked the house."
I squeezed his arm. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."
We passed in front of Jeff's office, as his angry voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Seriously, what do you want from me?"
We exchanged glances with each another. No one else was around, and my curiosity swelled to the size of Rose's ego. Jeff might not be the easiest person to get along with, but he was also the best director I'd ever had. Sure, he'd yelled at me yesterday, but that was part of the job
"I know he came to see you," another man answered. There was something familiar about his voice, but I couldn't place it.
Tad pointed his finger at the closed door and whispered. "Howie?"
I shook my head. The voice didn't belong to Howie.
"Yeah, Howie and I had lunch with him on Friday," Jeff said. "The day before—" He paused. "What's your point?"
"I just want to make sure that I get what's coming to me." The anonymous male voice spoke stiffly.
Jeff's voice now resembled a low, angry growl. "Your axe to grind has nothing to do with me. Randy and I haven't been close in years."
"Maybe not," Mr. Anonymous said, "but if he has a stake in this theater, like Howie does, I'm entitled to his share."
Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 48