Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9)

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Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Boxed Set Volume III (Books 7-9) Page 52

by Leslie Langtry

After the door closed behind him, I sat down numbly on the couch and placed my face in my hands. Maybe Keanu was right. I had to take some time to figure things out before everything came crashing down around me.

  A furry face rubbed against my hand. Benny sat next to me on the couch, purring away with the intensity of a car's engine. When I reached out a hand to pet him, he jumped onto the coffee table and sat there like a statue, staring down his nose at me with an expression that said I might be a moron.

  "You're right." Benny rewarded me by turning his back to me and lifting his tail in salute. "I am a dope. I've finally found a wonderful man that really loves me, and all I keep doing is trying to push him away."

  Perhaps my biggest fear was giving my heart away. I hadn't told Keanu this—actually no one knew—but in all of my twenty-five years on this earth, no one had ever told me that they loved me before. My mother had certainly never spoken those words to me, nor had my sister. If my father said them, I didn't have any recollection of it. Brad had never said he loved me. Instead, he'd use charming phrases such as "you rock" or "you're beautifully awesome, babe." I'd waited a long time for someone to care about me. Now that the moment had finally happened, I had no idea how to handle it.

  Benny stuck his nose inside one of the crates, sniffing around, and then started to rub his head against the dusty papers inside. Apparently, he liked the feel of grunge against his fur.

  "Hey." I pulled him onto my lap, and he meowed plaintively. I needed a good cry and wanted comfort, but Benny was having none of it. He jumped back onto the coffee table and pawed at one of the college newspapers. I noticed three words underneath the headline on the front page of College Chatter—by Randolph Cremshaw. It wasn't the issue Keanu had been reading earlier. I lifted it out, intrigued by what other words of wisdom Randolph had penned. The issue was from 1995. I'd only been three years old at the time.

  "College Student Still Missing and Presumed Dead," read the headline.

  After a month long search, twenty-two-year-old Sean Tyler is still missing and presumed dead. His family says they are optimistic that Sean is still alive and are holding out hope for his safe return. They are asking for everyone's prayers.

  Sean, an economics major, was last seen retiring to his dorm room after dinner on Wednesday, May 10. His girlfriend, Wendy Ritzer, reported him missing the next day, saying that they were supposed to have breakfast together, but he never showed.

  If anyone has information, please contact…

  Ritzer. Why was the name familiar? My eyes traveled back to the playbill in the crate, and I searched under "Cast of Characters" again. Bingo. Wendy had played the character of Jessica. She was in nearly every scene listed, so I presumed she must have been a lead in the show.

  Could this just be a weird coincidence? I sat there, lost in thought, holding the playbill in my hand while Benny continued to sleep contentedly in my lap. When I looked at the date of the show, my heart skipped a beat.

  May 10, 1995.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The crowd at the Loco Moco was almost back to normal the next day. Monday meant new vacationers had arrived at Aloha Lagoon. Hopefully not too many had heard about the unfortunate incident with Randolph yet.

  Vivian and I were busy running our tails off all morning since we were the only two servers on duty. The all-too-familiar Help Wanted sign adorned the front door of the café by the lobby entrance. Now that we were short a server again, Vivian was already grumbling about working more hours.

  "We can never keep help here," she complained. "It looks like you and I are destined to be the only two long-term servers, kiddo."

  I put together some silverware packets as she talked, but she might as well have been speaking a foreign language. Keanu had been upstairs in the office all morning. I had started to go up once when there was a brief lull in the crowd but heard him talking on the phone with a supplier and didn't want to interrupt. Although he had assured me all was okay, I remained worried that something had shifted in our relationship last night. I wanted to invite him over for dinner so that we could talk. I needed to put everything out on the table and let him know my concerns.

  "Are you listening to me?" Vivian stood in front of me, hands on her hips.

  "Sorry." I sighed. "My mind is on other things today."

  She grabbed two coffee cups from the cabinet behind me and started to fill them from the full pot on the double-burner machine. "Keanu's acting odd today too. What's going on with you guys?"

  Cripes. The Loco Moco was like the town grapevine some days. I didn't want to get into this now, especially with customers waiting. "Nothing. Between the show and Randolph's murder, I just have a lot going on."

  She patted my arm. "I can't wait to see Little Women this weekend. I already told Sybil she'd better not call in sick Friday night."

  "Carrie!" Poncho shouted from the kitchen. "Your order's up."

  I pushed through the double swinging doors and grabbed the two plates Poncho had placed on the counter. One dish was pineapple pancakes with coconut syrup while the other contained Portuguese sausage, eggs, and rice, one of our most popular breakfast entrees. Many of Aloha Lagoon guests enjoyed eating foods with an ethnic flavor to them.

  Poncho waved his spatula in the air. "It is after twelve, and I am still taking breakfast orders. Why did you not cut people off an hour ago, like you are supposed to?"

  Heat rose through my face. "I'm sorry, Poncho. I guess I wasn't thinking."

  He eyed me shrewdly. "You are not the only one." He pointed his spatula toward the ceiling and lowered his voice. "Did you two have a fight?"

  Egads. No one would let up. "We're fine."

  Poncho's face twisted into a frown. "You are a bad liar, ho'aloha."

  Touché. Instead of responding, I headed out the swinging doors and placed the plates down in front of a couple whose eyes lit up when they saw their food. "Let me know if you need anything else."

  "Waitress," a man called.

  "Be right there." I grabbed a packet of silverware and a menu from behind the counter and approached the table where the summons had come from. A lone man sat there, texting on his phone, but looked up as I approached, and our eyes met. It was Richard Cremshaw.

  His pretentious smile turned upside down. "You! I thought you were Ron Howard's assistant."

  Of all the worse luck. Just pretend you don't remember him. "This isn't my station, sir. I'll have another waitress take your order right away."

  He reached out a hand and grabbed my wrist in a firm grip. "Wait a minute. That story was all bologna. I knew it was when Belinda gave me the details. Who are you really? And why were you at the Hana Hou?"

  His fingers tightened around my arm, and I flinched. "Let go of me."

  "Answer me first."

  "Get your hands off her now."

  The voice was quiet but menacing—not a tone I heard often from Keanu. He was standing behind me, hands on hips, and lips compressed tightly together as he glared at Richard.

  "Cripes, do you two travel together all the time?" Richard asked. "Don't worry, fella. I'm not interested in your babe. We're just having a little talk, so you can go back to washing dishes in the kitchen."

  Keanu's nostrils flared. "Yes, she is my girlfriend. She's also an employee here, and I happen to be one of the owners of the Loco Moco. No one's going to treat any of my staff like this, so if you want to keep that hand, remove it from her arm, or I'll remove yours from your arm."

  Richard glowered for a second then reluctantly did as he was told. He rose to his feet and looked from me to Keanu. "What the hell are you two really up to? Oh wait. I get it. You're afraid Belinda's going to sue this dump. That's why you made up the bogus story about Ron Howard that she was stupid enough to fall for."

  "There's no proof the Loco Moco is responsible for your brother's death." Keanu folded his arms across his chest. "From what we understand, there were several people with motives to kill him."

  "Like you." I brought
my hand to my mouth. Holy cow. I couldn't believe I'd let that slip out.

  Richard's eyes shot angry sparks at me. "How dare you."

  I plodded on. "You had the biggest motive of anyone. There's rumors that you and Belinda have been carrying on and that you're also contesting a will from your parents which left everything to Randolph."

  Richard sucked in a sharp breath. 'You should really stop reading the National Enquirer. But that's probably all a tart like you can afford on your salary."

  Storm clouds brewed in Keanu's eyes, and he stepped around me, putting his face up against Richard's. "Get the hell out of here."

  I placed a hand on Keanu's arm. "Wait." This was perhaps the only chance we might have to question Richard, who glared at us as I examined his sneering face. "Okay. Let's assume that we're all innocent here. Who else had a motive for wanting your brother dead?"

  He shrugged. "That's easy. His ex-girlfriend and mother of his only child, Sefina Palu. Randy left her with nothing, and she's been looking to get even for a long time."

  I exchanged glances with Keanu. Richard was still tops on my suspect list, but I had to admit that the case against Sefina looked pretty good too. Maybe Coral had been lying. Coral could only surmise that she and her mother had been cut out of Randy's will since it hadn't been read yet. There was no way she knew the contents—or did she? "Do you have an alibi for the morning your brother was killed?"

  Richard's face was crimson, and his hands shook with apparent rage. "Who the hell are you, Kauai's version of Nancy Drew? I don't have to explain anything to you, sweetie."

  We were starting to attract some attention from the few diners around us. Keanu pointed to the door that led to the lobby. "Get out, and don't come back. Ever."

  "You're refusing to serve me?" Richard raised his eyebrows.

  "I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone," Keanu said quietly. "It's stated on our menu."

  Richard attempted to hold back a laugh as his eyes fixed on me again. "Have fun with Miss Drew here. And I'm glad you won't serve me. When Belinda owns the place and demotes you to busboy, you'll be singing a different tune."

  He strode angrily toward the exit, and Keanu started to follow, but I clung to his arm. "Let him go. That man's not worth the trouble."

  Keanu turned to face me. The anger had died from his eyes and been replaced with concern. "You okay?" he asked softly.

  I nodded. The awkwardness from last night had returned, and we stood staring at each other in silence. A sudden lump in my throat made talking difficult.

  Keanu smiled reassuringly at me as his gaze traveled to my lips. "I've got some work to finish upstairs. I'll check back with you later." With that, he turned and went into the kitchen.

  After standing there dumbly for a moment, I decided to follow him upstairs. I had to make Keanu understand why I'd acted the way I did last night. When I entered the kitchen, my phone started to vibrate from my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Jeff's name.

  What the heck? I fervently hoped he didn't want to hold a rehearsal tonight because I needed to straighten things out with Keanu first. I hurried into the employees' room with my phone and ignored Poncho's quizzical look as I rushed past him. "Hi, Jeff. What's up?"

  "Hey, Carrie." His voice sounded terse. "Can you stop by the theater about one o'clock today?"

  Intuition warned me that this was not good news. Although rare, I'd heard of people being cut in the middle of a theater performance before. There was always an eager understudy waiting in the background to take over. Tad had casually mentioned Jeff had done this during a show last season. Of course, that girl showed up drunk for rehearsal, but regardless, it had happened. No one received any preferential treatment with him. He hadn't attempted to sugarcoat how awful he thought my performance was on Saturday either.

  "Why, what's the matter?" I tried to keep the uneasiness out of my voice.

  He paused before answering. "I'd rather get into this when you get here. It won't take long."

  "But I'm working." I wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible.

  "Maybe you can take your lunch break then? See you soon."

  He clicked off before I had a chance to respond. I stood there, staring at the phone, and felt tears well up in the recesses of my eyes. What else could go wrong? I sat down on the bench, put my head in my hands, and started to weep silently. Someone touched my arm, and I jumped.

  Keanu was standing there, staring down at me with a perplexed look on his face. I was so distracted that I hadn't even heard him come down the stairs. The tears rolled down my cheeks as he sat down on the bench and reached for my hand.

  "Care, what's wrong? Did Cremshaw come back?" His expression grew dark with worry.

  "It's not him. I…uh." As I stared into his face, memories of what had occurred last night overwhelmed my brain, and everything came to a sudden head. Still weeping, I collapsed into his strong arms. He stroked my hair and held me tightly against his chest.

  "Shh." His lips were by my ear. "I told you we were okay. Don't be upset."

  Relief washed over me to hear those words. Of course Keanu was more important than any old show, but Jeff's call had still upset me. "I was afraid that I'd hurt you last night, and that's the last thing I ever want to do." I hiccupped back a sob. "Jeff wants to see me at the theater at one o'clock."

  His body tensed against mine. "Did he tell you why?"

  I shook my head. "He didn't have to. I think he's going to cut me from the show."

  Keanu's jaw dropped. "Why? You were terrific, babe. I can't believe he'd be that stupid."

  I smiled up at him and tried to get my emotions in check. "Thanks for that. At least I still have you."

  Keanu wiped away the rest of my tears with the pad of his thumb and kissed me lightly. "You'll always have me. I'm not going anywhere. Would you like me to drive you over?"

  "Excuse me." Poncho was standing in the doorway, spatula still in hand. "Keanu, I hate to interrupt, but remember that the produce man is coming at one, and he specifically asked for you. Is there another board meeting this afternoon too?"

  Keanu muttered a four-letter word under his breath. "To hell with that meeting, and I can cancel Earl. It's no big deal."

  "No." I reached for a tissue in my apron pocket. "Don't worry. I'll figure out something."

  Poncho pointed in the direction of the café. "Tad is out front with the linen order for today. He is busy chatting it up with Vivian. Maybe he could give you a lift."

  "Oh!" I wiped at my eyes. "Poncho, will you ask him to wait for me?"

  He nodded and after a sobering look at both me and Keanu, turned on his heel and went back into the kitchen. Keanu sat there with his arm around my waist, patiently waiting for me to compose myself.

  Get a grip, Care. It's just a show. "I didn't even ask, but is it okay if I leave for a little while? Sybil should be here soon. I doubt I'll be gone more than an hour."

  "Sure, it's okay. I'll cover until she gets here." He hesitated for a moment. "Do you have plans for tonight?"

  It was the opportunity I'd been waiting for, and my mouth began to work overtime. "I want to be with you. There are some things that I need to tell you. It might help you understand why last night I—"

  Keanu put a finger to my lips. "Okay. We'll talk about it later. I'll stop by your place after my meeting, whenever that gets done. If I beat you there, Benny and I will hang out and watch a movie together. Maybe even a chick flick." He flashed me a teasing grin.

  I had given Keanu a key to my apartment about a month ago, and he'd done likewise. It wasn't really necessary since I didn't own a car and couldn't get to his place unless he drove me. Still, it was a nice gesture on his part and wonderful to know we were in a comfortable stage in our relationship.

  He rubbed his face against my hair. "How about I bring some takeout with me? What would you like?"

  "I'm not sure that I'll have much of an appetite," I said honestly. Right now I only cared about two thin
gs—being with Keanu and getting through this meeting with Jeff in a somewhat composed manner. I'd be damned to let the man see me cry. "It doesn't matter what we eat. All I need is you."

  He flashed his adorable dimple at me. "Okay. That request sounds easy enough for me to fulfill. Good luck, sweetheart. No matter what happens, I'm here for you."

  My heart overfilled as I gazed back at him. He really is all mine. I opened my mouth to say those three little words, but again they refused to come out. In frustration, I grabbed my purse from the nearby locker. "I'll see you tonight."

  "Text me after you talk to him," Keanu said. "This way I'll know when I should come over and beat the crap out of him."

  "Maybe I'll take you up on that," I teased.

  ***

  Tad pulled his white convertible into a parking spot by the back door of the Hana Hou Theater, and I glanced around uneasily. There were only two other cars in the entire lot—Jeff's silver Ford Fiesta and a black BMW.

  "What's up with the BMW?" Tad frowned and lifted his sunglasses to have a better look at the car. "I think that's a rental."

  "Maybe it belongs to the business manager. Didn't she mention the other day that her car was in an accident?" Great. I'd hoped that Jeff would be the only one present. The situation was bad enough without having an audience.

  "Do you want me to come inside with you, love?"

  I shook my head. "Thanks anyway. It would be great if you could wait and bring me back to the Loco Moco, if you're not on a tight schedule for deliveries, that is. I'll reimburse you for the gas."

  He waved a hand impatiently. "I only have a couple of more runs this afternoon, so take your time. And I would never take money from one of my BFFs. Tell you what though. I'll let you buy me a Frappuccino from Starbucks."

  "You've got a deal." I opened the car door, took some deep, calming breaths, then held up my crossed fingers. "Wish me luck."

  Tad crossed his fingers as well and blew me a kiss. "You've got this, hon. Keep the faith."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

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