Okay, forget about looking for a killer. I might turn into one the next time I saw Tad.
I bit into my lower lip and forced myself to meet Keanu's piercing gaze. He stood there with his arms folded across his chest as he waited for me to say something. I knew he was upset and couldn't fault him for that.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Keanu's voice was low, but it was obvious from his expression that he was upset. I actually would have preferred yelling and screaming over the pained look in his eyes.
A dull ache formed in the middle of my chest. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt him. Sheepishly, I stared down at the blankets.
"Carrie?"
"I don't know," I whispered to the fuzzy yellow comforter. "I just wanted to be with you last night and not think about anything else."
Keanu sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a finger under my chin. "Look at me."
I gazed into his deep-set eyes and fought to hold back a sob. Didn't he understand why I hadn't told him? Keanu loved me—he was the only person who ever had. I couldn't throw that away now. My throat grew tight with tears. "It doesn't matter because I've already made my decision. I'm not going."
Keanu's jaw dropped. "Care, that's insane. You have to go."
I must have heard him wrong. How could he tell me that after the night we had just shared? "No, I'm not leaving you."
His shoulders sagged. "I don't want that either. The thought of you going depresses the hell out of me. But if you stayed here—because of me—well, do you really think that's going to make either one of us happy?"
"What do you mean?"
Keanu wove his fingers through my hair. "You'd be turning down the chance of a lifetime. This is your dream. You might grow to resent me after a while."
I shook my head furiously. "That would never happen."
He sighed. "You say that now, but who knows? How long would you be gone for?"
"Howie said three months at the most. But there's a good chance they won't even want me, and I'd be back within a week." My voice sounded too hopeful.
Keanu wrinkled his forehead. "If I was a betting man, I'd say that won't happen. In fact, I'd stake my life on the notion that the role is already yours. I couldn't be prouder of you, baby."
Tears dripped down my cheeks and onto the comforter. Keanu wiped them away and then brushed his lips across mine. "No more crying, okay? I don't want the lady I love to ever be sad."
"I love you too." There was a growing need inside of me to keep repeating the words to him, a sudden urgency that had transpired since last night. I'd been starved for affection for what seemed like an eternity. Now that I'd finally been fed, my hunger refused to subside.
He ran a finger across my lips. "I'm a lucky guy."
"It's taken me a while to say those three words to you, even though I felt them right from the beginning. No one ever told me before that they—" The waterworks started again. When had I turned into such a cry baby?
He reached out and enveloped me in his strong arms. "I know, Carrie. I figured it might be something like that." Keanu kissed my hair softly. "Go ahead and cry, sweetheart. Let it all out."
That was it—I was officially a goner now. Keanu stroked my hair while I sobbed into his arms. Last night had been special, the most wonderful night of my life. But now it would be even more difficult to leave him. What on earth had I been thinking?
He released his hold on me and cradled my face between his hands. "Listen. I told you before that I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here waiting when you get back from California. Maybe I can even swing a couple of visits out there too."
My heart gave a sudden leap. "Really? That would be fantastic. Do you think you'd be headed out that way anytime soon?"
Keanu's body tensed against mine. "My father wants me to leave the Loco Moco and take over the CEO position in Arizona. He's planning on firing the current head suit out there."
My heart gave another leap—right into the pit of my stomach. Now it was my turn to be the accusatory. "How long have you known?"
"A couple of days," he replied. "I was going to tell you last night—before we got involved with other matters." He flashed his dimple at me. "Carrie, it doesn't matter, because I told him yesterday that I'm not going."
"That must have gone over well," I said dryly. "I'll bet my name got mentioned too." No doubt Terry would think I'd put his son up to the decision.
He kissed me again. "Yes, he did bring up your name, and that made me furious. I told him not to drag you into this because you were not to blame. If they need me to fly out there occasionally to help, fine. But Kauai is my home, and I'm happy at the Loco Moco. I don't want to leave here. And when you come back," he added smoothly, "maybe we can talk about making some more permanent living arrangements. You, me, and Ben under one roof. How does that sound?"
"Yes," I whispered. "I'd love that." To be able to wake up next to him every morning would be another dream come true.
As if on cue, Benny jumped back on the bed. He meowed at Keanu, as if giving his approval of the plan too. Keanu laughed and stretched out a hand to scratch him behind his ears. "I wish I could take him while you're gone. Let me talk to my landlord."
"It's okay," I reassured him. "When Tad found out about the screen test yesterday, he practically begged me to let him move in here. His uncle is redoing the apartment building, and Tad needs a place to crash for a few months. He's supposed to stop over at some point today and take measurements for a chair he wants to bring along. That reminds me. Can you leave your key under the mat for him?"
"Sure, but why doesn't he just move in with his parents? They live local, and he could save some money that way," Keanu said.
I shook my head. "Tad would rather die than move back in with his parents. If the renovations are done before I get back from California, he said he'll bring Benny back to his place. Then I'll take over paying Arnie rent again." Arnie was my landlord, and I already knew he wouldn't have a problem with Tad staying here. "If…if I decide to go, that is."
Keanu's ocean blue eyes rested on me solemnly. "I thought it was already decided."
I knew what I was about to suggest was impossible, but I went ahead and asked it anyway. "Is there any chance that you could go with me?"
Keanu was quiet for a moment as he processed my question. "I want to, Carrie, more than anything. But when I refused to go to Arizona, I promised my father I'd stay here and run the Loco Moco single handedly since he and Mom expect to be out there quite a bit in the next few months. Let me talk to them again. Maybe we can work out some other solution."
"No." I didn't want to come between Keanu and his parents. "That was selfish of me to ask. I know you have responsibilities here you can't ignore. It's just going to be so hard—without you there."
He kissed me lightly on the lips. "You'll be so busy putting in twelve-hour-day shoots that you won't even miss me."
"That's not true." Keanu consumed my thoughts constantly. He'd become my opium, and I didn't know how I'd function without him, especially after last night.
"I hate the idea of you being out there all by yourself," Keanu admitted. "This director, the guy I met at the Hana Hou—Howie, right? Are you sure he isn't some type of letch? The kind that preys on young girls and gives them parts so they'll sleep with him?"
I jumped out of bed and grabbed my robe that was flung at the bottom. "I don't think Howie's like that." The conversation I'd overheard at Hana Hou yesterday replayed itself inside my head. Did Howie have something to do with Randolph's murder? And what did he and Jeff really know about the disappearance of Wendy's boyfriend, Sean?
"I didn't get a chance to tell you, but it turns out that the same night as Jeff's college play, a student from the campus disappeared. His name was Sean Tyler and he was never heard from again. He also happened to be dating the female lead of the show. It seemed like a weird coincidence to me."
Keanu took my hand and started to lead me toward the living room. "We'll h
ave to put our heads together tonight and see what we can come up with. I'm already late, but I have a surprise for you before I leave. Come on—it's in here." He pointed at the end table, where a beautiful display of red roses sat in a crystal vase.
My mouth dropped open in amazement. "Where did these come from? There's no flower shops open at this hour."
He grinned. "One of the local florists is a good friend of mine. I arranged it with him last night after you fell asleep. He delivered the vase personally a little while ago. Do you like them?"
I leaned down to inhale their fragrant scent. Seriously, what was there not to like, or love, about this man? "They're beautiful. You're so good to me."
He placed his arms around my waist. "It's about time someone was."
As I hugged him back, I spotted the piece of paper on the coffee table with Wendy's number. "By the way, I'm meeting Wendy Ritzer at ten o'clock under the pretense that I need car insurance. She was the lead in Jeff's college show and dated Sean Tyler. I want to see if she'll talk to me."
Keanu drew his eyebrows together. "You're a complete stranger. What makes you think she'll tell you anything?"
"Don't worry. I have a plan."
He gave me a doubtful look. "I'll bet. Where are you meeting her? In a public place? I can leave work for a while if you need me to be there."
"I should be fine alone. I'll be right outside The Lava Pot, and you know that people are always around. There's nothing to worry about."
"Maybe you should call Detective Ray and tell him about your hunch," he said.
"But I can't prove anything yet." I pointed at the crates that sat underneath my glass-topped coffee table. "We have to get these back to Coral soon. I've looked through all the other papers but didn't find anything useful."
He nudged one of the crates with the toe of his sneaker. "Okay. Tomorrow or the next day I'll drop them off to her." He gave me a swift kiss. "You look tired. I guess that's my fault, huh?" He grinned like a naughty little boy.
I smiled. "Yes, but you're forgiven."
Keanu pushed the hair back from my face. "If it's slow and you need to take off early from work to start my dinner, feel free."
"My boss gives me preferential treatment," I teased.
"Well, just don't tell anyone." He grabbed his car keys from the table. "Only one more of these blasted meetings and then things can get back to normal. I'll be at the café for a little while but will probably be gone before you get there. Text me after you meet this woman so I know everything is okay. What do you want to do after dinner tonight? Go clubbing or take in a movie?"
"Staying in with you sounds wonderful," I said honestly.
A sly smile spread across his face. "I'm sure I can come up with something that we can do here."
I laughed and leaned my head against his chest. "You're all that I need or want. Hollywood can wait."
Keanu held me close. "It's all going to work out fine, sweetheart. I promise you that."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After Keanu left, I took a shower, ate a bowl of cereal, and had a second cup of coffee. It was past nine thirty then, so I gave Benny a hug and took off for Aloha Lagoon. The day had an eerie, foreboding characteristic to it, and the overcast sky seemed to share in that illusion. I'd grown used to the heat while living here, but today's humidity was overly oppressive, more than enough to leave one gasping for air.
The Lava Pot didn't open until eleven o'clock, which was fine with me. I didn't drink much—especially at this time of day—and now wouldn't have to worry that Casey the bartender might see me and unintentionally blow my cover.
From this particular spot, there was a fabulous view of the white sand beach where a woman was busy instructing a group of kids with surf boards. The tables outside the bar were deserted, except for two. A man and a woman who appeared to be in their thirties sat talking quietly, holding hands with their Starbucks cups in front of them.
I spotted a woman at another table wearing white capri pants and a pink lace blouse. She was busy texting on her phone. A large day planner lay open on the table, and a black briefcase was on the chair beside her.
I veered in her direction and she immediately looked up. "Miss Ritzer?"
Wendy put the phone down and rose to her feet, extending a well-manicured hand. "Coral? Nice to meet you. Have a seat."
She shuffled some papers while I took a moment to study her. Wendy was heavyset, with titian-colored hair worn in a short bob and a dusting of freckles across her tiny nose. Profound wrinkles surrounded her brown eyes and creased her forehead. I knew that she was in her early forties, but the crow's feet gave the impression of someone much older.
"Okay," Wendy said. "Since you're so young, the whole life insurance policy is the best way for you to go. It's also the best value. I've brought some pamphlets—"
Time to put my acting skills to work. "Miss Ritzer, you went to college with Randolph Cremshaw, didn't you?"
Her mouth fell open, and for a moment it seemed that she didn't comprehend what I had said. "What does that have to do with your insurance?"
"You know that he died the other day, right?"
In a sudden fury, she slammed the planner shut. "Look. I don't know who you are or what you're getting at but—" Realization dawned, and she shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, I get it. You're not interested in buying anything from me. This is some kind of setup." She started to rise from the table.
I touched her arm. "Please wait. It's not what you think. Randolph was my father."
I prayed that my facial expressions wouldn't fail me now. From the look she shot me, it appeared that I had succeeded.
"Oh my," she breathed. "I'm sorry for your loss but haven't seen your father in years."
"I'm looking into his death and need your help."
She picked up a tissue and wiped at the sweat that had started to gather on her forehead. "Why me? What can I do? Like I said, it's been years since I've seen him."
"I've been going through his old papers," I said, "and thought you two might have had some type of relationship."
She eyed me suspiciously. "We were in English literature class and did some dopey play together. That was all. I didn't sleep with him." Wendy paused for a moment. "At least I don't think so."
Wow. "I wondered if his death might tie in somehow with your boyfriend's disappearance back then."
Her head whipped around toward me in surprise. "Sean? That was over twenty years ago. There is no connection. You're grasping at straws here. Anyhow, the police are checking into Randy's death, right? Why don't you leave this to them?"
"I don't trust them," I lied. "I loved my father and want to know the truth, so I'm launching my own investigation. I found out that your boyfriend disappeared the same night as the show you were in, Destiny in December."
Wendy tapped her pen on the table. "That's right. To tell you the truth, I don't remember much about that night. I had way too much to drink. I was still in a fog when I talked to the cops the next day. I told them I didn't know anything, and that part still hasn't changed."
"There was a cast party after the show, wasn't there?" I prompted her. "Dad kept a journal and mentioned it." I was amazed at how freely the lies were flowing out of my mouth again. "Was your boyfriend there too?"
She laughed. "Some boyfriend. Sean got pissed whenever he saw me talking to another guy. He wasn't very likeable, shall we say. I'm not surprised that he disappeared."
I wondered what she meant. "Do you remember seeing him at the theater that evening? Maybe he happened to see you, um, talking with another guy?"
She chuckled. "Honey, I was three sheets to the wind that night. I could have slept with Brad Pitt and not remembered. Yeah, your father was right. We did have a cast party after the show backstage. No food, but plenty of drinks. We all got trashed."
She paused for a sip from her water bottle, and I waited patiently for her to continue.
"Everyone else had left except for me and this one guy.
We ah—started to get cozy, if you get my drift."
Yikes. I so did not want to hear this.
She gave an embarrassed little laugh. "I must have blacked out after all the booze because I don't remember anything else. The next thing I knew it was daylight, and I was lying outside, next to the dumpster by the back door. At least I had clothes on. I got up, dusted myself off, and went back to my dorm. What a mother of a headache I had all day."
This didn't make any sense. "Could Sean have been there? Do you think he and the guy you were with had a fight?'"
"It's possible," she admitted. "Like I said though, it's been over 20 years. How could Sean's disappearance back then have anything to do with Randy's death the other day?"
Detective Ray would have been proud of my line of questioning. Maybe. "Do you think that Sean is still alive?"
Wendy's face clouded over, and she hesitated for a moment before she answered. "No, I don't. Look. I'm sorry about your father, but I'm done talking about this. It's a part of my life I'd prefer not to rehash."
"Understood," I said quickly, afraid that she might try to bolt. "Perhaps Sean saw you and the other guy—um, involved? Maybe he tried to beat him up. Who were you with?"
Wendy's voice became a low, angry growl. "I told you—I don't remember who it was. After a while all those college guys start to look alike."
Gross. How many guys had this woman actually slept with back then? Forget it. I didn't want to know. "Do you think your partner that night could have killed Sean?"
"No idea," she hissed. "The semester ended the following week, and I never went back to school."
"Why not?" I wondered if she might have gotten pregnant.
"If you must know, my mom was sick, so I had to stay home and take care of her. Family obligations. You know what that's like."
Actually, I didn't but said nothing.
"Hey, Carrie, how's it going?"
Startled, I almost jumped out of my seat. Casey was standing beside our table, the warm wind blowing through his curly, light brown blondish hair. "Can I get you ladies a drink? I'm about to open up."
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