My insides were hollow. Yes, I did know. It was an all-too-familiar feeling. "You've been dealt a crummy blow, Coral, but at least you have a mother who loves you unconditionally." It still made me sad at times to realize I would never have that in my life.
Keanu watched me anxiously, almost as if he was aware of the inner battle I was fighting. We'd only had one prior discussion about my parents, but he knew how much I hated to talk about my family. I tried not to let their lack of caring define who I was.
"You're right," Coral said. "I wouldn't have survived without my mother. Dad lived here with Mom for a while, you know. When he found out about me, he couldn't scurry away fast enough. He even had the nerve to leave a pile of junk down in the basement. He told my mother he'd be back for the stuff, but never took it." Her mouth quivered. "It's been sitting there collecting dust for over twenty years. I'd get rid of it, but that's all I have left of him now."
My curiosity went into overdrive. "What kind of stuff?"
"Oh, a couple of old crates with pictures and yearbooks and other useless crap from his college days. Mom said he was a notorious pack rat who never threw anything away."
My brain zoomed in on Belinda's comment from earlier today. He's got enemies going back to his college days, maybe even before. "I'd love to see them, if possible." Of course, it didn't mean we'd find anything, but was still worth a shot.
Coral studied me with a puzzled expression. "Why? What would you want with that old crap?"
I tried to keep my tone casual. "Sometimes you can learn a lot about a person from their past."
She continued to watch me with unbridled suspicion. "Do you think there's something in there that could lead us to his killer?"
I shrugged. "Hard to say."
Coral's eyes blazed with an intensity that unnerved me. "I already told you who killed him. Belinda."
Wow. She really did hate the woman with a passion.
"Do you know if your father invited Belinda here to join him?" Keanu asked.
"From what I heard, she flew here to plead with him to give her another chance. When he refused, she decided to kill him before the divorce was final, so she'd still be entitled to his money."
Keanu and I listened quietly to Coral's rampage. There was a chance she was telling the truth. Still, someone who had tried to get me into trouble and had also stolen money from her employers didn't earn my trust. Then again, she could've been trying to place blame on her stepmother because she resented the woman. I figured she would give Detective Ray the same information about Belinda tomorrow and would fail to mention our visit to him. It seemed a safe assumption that she wouldn't want to be indicted on an embezzlement charge.
Coral bristled at our silence. "Why don't you believe me?"
"We believe you, Coral." I was so curious to see Randolph's memorabilia that I would have told her almost anything she wanted to hear right now, just to stay on her good side. "Can we still see your father's personal items?"
She tossed her long hair behind her and rose. "Wait here." Coral left the room, and then the distinct click of her sandals hitting the stairs could be heard as she plodded on down to the basement.
"So Belinda remains at the top of the list," I whispered. "What if Coral's right and she did kill him to prevent the divorce? I wish we could have a look at his will."
"I wouldn't rule Coral out either," Keanu said in a low voice.
"I know." I couldn't fathom doing something so horrible to your own flesh and blood. Then again, perhaps I didn't want to.
Before we could resume our conversation, Coral's footsteps sounded and she reappeared with two plastic gray crates in her hands. Keanu sprang forward to relieve her of them. He set the crates down on the coffee table in front of us. I eyeballed them quickly, trying not to be too obvious about my interest. Unfortunately, they looked like useless items. There were textbooks, old college newspapers, and even a few playbills that I longed to browse. "Was your father a theater major, like yourself?"
She shook her head. "I think he started out doing some reviews for his college newspaper. He always loved to write. Eventually he figured there was more money in food than theater."
Interesting. Jeff had mentioned that they all went to school together. Perhaps I could pick up on something by looking through the papers, like an old girlfriend who was out for revenge. And what about Coral's mother?
Coral picked up a silver-framed photograph of her father at his graduation ceremony and studied it. "Look at this. Would you believe that the picture on Facebook is the only one that I have of us together? The only photo I ever will have." She ran a hand across her eyes.
Although I was still angry about what Coral had done to me, I could relate to her plight. There was no reason to make comparisons, but at least she was one up on me. I had no photos of my father at all. I probably wouldn't recognize him if he walked down the same street as me.
Keanu lifted out an old college newspaper. "Coral, would you mind if we looked through these? We can do it now, as long as you don't mind us staying for a while."
She glanced at the wall clock nervously. "My mother is due home any minute."
This might work to our advantage. If Coral was anxious to get rid of us before her mother arrived, she might not mind us taking the items with us. Of course, Keanu could always play his trump card regarding the theft if needed, but I didn't think she'd refuse.
"Maybe someone had a grudge against him," Keanu said. "It might have been going on for years."
Coral's nostrils flared. "I already told you who killed him. My stepmother."
She was starting to get agitated, and I didn't want to push our luck. I tried desperately to think of a diversion. "Did you know I was the one to find your father?"
Her face paled. "You? You brought him the food the other day? I thought maybe Poncho had gone."
"No." I wasn't going to get into graphic details about what her father had looked like in his final hour but thought she should know that I was being scrutinized as well. After all, it was partially her fault because of the ketchup mix-up. "I've been questioned by the police too. Even if you're positive Belinda had a hand in this, the police will want proof. We'd like to help find some, if it exists."
"I'm not looking forward to speaking to that cop." Coral glanced anxiously at Keanu. "You're sure you didn't tell the police about the—you know—money? You can take the crates as long as you bring them back and promise you won't tell my mother what I did."
Keanu's manner was calm. "I already gave you my word. If you sign a paper that I draw up and agree to pay back the money over time, we won't press charges. But you do realize we can't have you working there anymore."
Coral's lower lip trembled. "Yes, I understand."
As we rose to our feet, I turned to address Coral again. "I forgot to ask you about your uncle Richard."
She narrowed her eyes. "Dad's little brother? Yeah, another relative who's fond of keeping in touch. Not. He's too busy hanging out with his sister-in-law, if you get my drift."
"Richard knows you and your mother live here?" I asked.
"Of course," she said. "I'm the black sheep of the family. They all know of my presence but choose to avoid me."
"Were Richard and your father close?" Too late, I realized this was a stupid question. If Belinda and Richard were fooling around, the brothers were most likely not the most loving of siblings.
She made a face. "Mom said they were years ago, during college. Given everything that's happened with Belinda, I doubt it now."
Keanu picked up both crates, and I ran to hold the front door open for him. As I was about to join him, Coral held out a hand for me to shake. Surprised, I took it.
"I lied," she whispered.
For a moment, I wondered if she was referring to her father's murder. "About what?"
Tears gathered in her eyes. "I am sorry he's dead. Does that even make any sense? He was a rotten father, but I still wanted his approval and his love. I'll never have
either one now."
"It makes perfect sense," I assured her. "It hurts, but you can't let this consume you. There will be plenty of other people in your lifetime to love and care about you." I would have loved the opportunity to speak with her mother, but this might not be the best time. "How's your mom handling his death?"
She smiled. "Mom's tough. She got over his treatment of her long ago. It takes a special kind of person to shake off their past like that."
I liked to think that this referred to me as well. There was no point in dwelling on the past anymore, but it would always remain a part of me. At least Coral had known the conventional bedtime story, visits to the circus, someone to teach her to ride a bike or go to the movies with. I'd had none of these. When I came to Hawaii, I'd broken off all contact with my family back in Vermont. I'd never make my mother love me, so what was the point of trying anymore?
My mind traveled back to one painful incident when I was about eleven and my mother and sister had gone to the movies, leaving me home alone although I'd begged to come along. To keep myself from crying, I'd spent the entire evening pretending to be a famous actress giving an awards acceptance speech. No matter what happened, I'd always had my dreams. They'd sustained me through some of the darkest periods of my life, and no one could ever take them away.
Coral watched me with an odd expression as I struggled to clear my head. Why was I remembering this now? No more feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I focused my attention on the handsome man who walked toward me, a broad smile on his face. Somehow, he made the past less painful to deal with, and for that I was beyond grateful.
"You're right," I said to Coral. "It is hard to shake off the past at times. But to move forward with your life, it's also necessary."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Check this out," Keanu said. He was reading a copy of College Chatter, the newspaper that Randolph had written for. "'Dining Hall Food—Even the Rats Won't Touch It,' by Randolph Cremshaw." He whistled low under his breath. "It sounds like Cremshaw's reviews haven't changed much in twenty years, huh?"
We were sitting on my couch going through the contents of the crates. Benny kept leaping from the coffee table, where we had placed them, to the arm of the couch, serving as general inspector while we sorted through the dusty papers and other paraphernalia. The papers smelled moldy, and I'd already had to wash my hands twice from the dirt. If we could learn a little about Randolph's past life it would make this well worth the inconvenience.
Keanu kissed me on the neck. "I'll play Watson to your Sherlock any day."
"You say the most romantic things," I teased, engrossed in skimming a playbill from an old theater production. "Look at the title of this show. Destiny in December. Interesting."
He flashed his dimple. "Sounds like a great name for a porno."
I smacked him in the arm with the playbill, and we both laughed. When I glanced down at the paper again, my jaw went slack. The play was written and directed by none other than Jeffrey Temple. I studied the rest of the names and gasped.
Keanu leaned over to get a better look. "What is it?"
"They were all in this show!" Under the Cast of Characters list I spotted Howie's name along with Richard's and Randolph's. Randolph had played a character named Frederick. "What the heck! Do you think this could mean anything?"
He shrugged. "Jeff told you that they all went to school together, right?"
I nodded. "They hung out together."
"It may not be that unusual, Care. How long ago was this play? Jeff's what, around forty or so?"
The front page of the playbill said it was from 1995. "I get what you're saying. It probably doesn't have anything to do with Randolph's death, but I thought maybe it would help to know a little more about him." I was anxious to get out from underneath Detective Ray's scrutiny. He would be more than happy to find something that connected me to Randolph's murder. Didn't he know he should be looking at Belinda, who was most likely having an affair with Randolph's brother? And how exactly did Howie fit into this?
"Here are the bios," I said to Keanu as he wrapped both arms around my waist and pulled me close. "Listen to this. 'Jeffrey Temple, Writer and Director. Jeff is a theater major who recently appeared in the musical productions of Godspell and The Fantasticks. Upon graduation, Jeff plans to pursue theater and work in the family jewelry store, Diamonds Are Us.'"
"Gee, that's an original name." Keanu placed a kiss on my shoulder.
I giggled. "'Howard Gabriel Livingston (Abe) is a theater and communications major. Destiny in December marks his first theater appearance. After graduation, he hopes to go to Hollywood and take it by storm.'"
Keanu kept kissing me. "Dreams do come true, it seems."
"And here's the bio for our favorite food critic. 'Randolph Cremshaw (Frederick) is a business major with a minor in culinary arts. He is also features editor for College Chatter. After graduation, Randolph plans to review theater productions for a local newspaper.'"
Keanu's hot breath was on my neck and his lips moved lower, making it difficult for me to concentrate. My heart started to pound against the wall of my chest.
"Go on," Keanu murmured as his hands reached under my shirt. "I'm getting excited listening to all this talk about culinary. It must be the restaurateur in me."
I laughed, but desire started to flood through my body. I put the playbill down and threw my arms around him as we kissed passionately. He gently lowered me onto the couch, where we continued the embrace for several minutes. I pushed the shirt over his head while he went to work on mine. At that moment, a vision of Terry glaring at me entered my mind, and I froze in panic.
In tune to my body as always, Keanu stopped kissing me immediately. "Carrie, I'm starting to get a complex here."
When I didn't answer, Keanu heaved a sigh and lifted his body off mine. I continued to lie there, convinced something must be wrong with me. I'd had no problem saying yes to a womanizer such as Brad, but now that I was with a wonderful guy who treated me like a queen, I shut down whenever he wanted to take our relationship to the next level. I didn't know how to explain my behavior and for the first time feared I might end up losing him over this.
I raised myself up and touched his arm lightly. To my relief, he didn't pull away. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me because I do want to be with you. It's just—"
He gave me a reassuring smile then got to his feet. "It's fine, Carrie. I understand."
Okay, I was tempted to ask him to explain it to me because I didn't understand. Before I could say anything further, he picked his car keys up off the coffee table and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to give you some space."
Some space. A veiled expression for a breakup. Panic set in. "Please don't leave like this."
He placed his hands on my shoulders. "Carrie, I'm not breaking up with you. I care too much about you to do that. In fact—" He hesitated, as if grasping for the right words. "There's something I've wanted to say to you for a while. To be honest, I wasn't sure if you could handle it, but I can't wait any longer."
Oh God. Dread as heavy as a mountain settled in the pit of my stomach. "It's your father, isn't it? He said he'd disinherit you unless you broke up with me."
He stared at me in disbelief. "Wow. That imagination of yours is something else. No, it's not like that at all. My parents will never dictate who's in my life. We've been over this already."
It was times like this when I wanted to smack myself in the head. I'd started to think of myself as self-assured, confident, and ready to handle anything life threw at me, but insecurity had become my best friend lately. "You're right. I don't know what's wrong with—"
"I love you, Carrie."
Keanu's words stopped me cold. He reached up a hand to stroke my cheek, and our eyes met. As always I was mesmerized by the bright blue gaze of his. I'd dreamed of hearing those three little words for a long time. Now that he'd said them, I wasn't sure if I could handle the repercussions.
/> "You love me?" I managed to squeak out.
Keanu nodded and kissed me softly on the mouth while I continued to stare at him, in some sort of a trance. "It's not something I just discovered tonight. I've known for quite a while but was afraid to tell you."
"Why?" My voice cracked with emotion.
He ran a hand through my hair. "Because of this. I didn't know if it would freak you out. And I'm not telling you so that you'll sleep with me. I don't play games like that." He grinned and flashed his perfect white teeth. "Even though you won't talk about it, I know you have some emotional scars that cut pretty deep. You might not be ready for this, and that's okay. I'm a patient man and not going anywhere. But I honestly think that the murder and musical are stressing you out. When the show is done, we'll see where things lead, okay?"
In frustration, I shook my head. "I don't want to break up. There's—"
"Whoa." Keanu put a finger on my lips. "We're not breaking up. I just told you that I loved you, silly girl. Take a few days to think about everything, okay? Sort out your feelings for me."
"There's nothing to sort out," I insisted. "I—uh—care about you very much."
Oh my God. I winced at the words. Every time I opened my mouth I managed to stick my entire foot inside. What was the matter with me? I care about you. I remembered Tad's mocking words. This was real life, not acting in a play. Keanu deserved so much more than I was able to give right now.
If Keanu was upset by my statement, he had the good grace not to show it. "I'll see you at the café in the morning." He kissed me again, and wove his hands through my hair. "Get some sleep, and remember that I love you."
Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 51