“What the hell?” Wes, the guy least likely to use a fourletter word, followed my eyes over to the nearest bed.
Atop the neat blue bedspread, embroidered with yellow pineapples, was a pattern of several stains—still wet and bright red.
“Now don’t get excited,” Holly said, her voice getting higher as she tried to keep us calm. “He was dressed in brown shorts and a brown T-shirt. The T-shirt had something written on it in Japanese, you know, like two white Japanese characters on the front.”
“A man? Holly, are you saying there was a man here in your room?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Who was he? What happened?”
“Just some strange guy, Maddie. Like about our age, maybe late twenties. He looked Asian-American. I don’t know who he was. I mean, I never saw him before. I couldn’t figure it all out; everything happened so fast. One minute Liz and I were laughing so hard we couldn’t get into the freaking room, you know? Then this guy in brown was just like here! Inside the room. Liz finally got the key to work, and we walked in. Then, wham, this guy came from out of nowhere.”
My eyes swept over Holly and Liz’s hotel room, identical in every way to the one Wes and I had just checked into. It looked perfectly clean, with the exception of the mess on the bed. It looked unoccupied. I took a few steps over to the closet and opened the door. There were no personal items hanging there, only the two guest bathrobes provided by the Four Heavens. I moved to the bathroom. It was neat and clean, just like the housekeeping staff must have left it; all the fabulous designer toiletries were new and carefully laid out. Whoever the guy had been, it didn’t look like he had been residing there.
“He came at you?” Wesley’s voice was calm, but he had to work at it. “Tell it all, Holly. Did he touch either of you?”
“I came in first, and he sort of grabbed my arm.”
I stared at her.
“I was so totally in shock at finding a man here, just waiting here in the room,” Holly said, beginning to shake. “I guess I just had a reflex. I yelled. Liz kind of tripped and fell down. I tried to pull free, but he was holding me really hard. Here.”
I looked at her bare arm but couldn’t see much. Maybe a slight bruise starting to turn blue.
“So with my free hand I grabbed out and caught something. I swung it at the guy.”
“You grabbed the lamp,” Wes said, pointing out its unbroken mate, which was still standing on the matching bedside table across the room.
“I swung out. I guess it was instinct. I didn’t even know what was happening.”
“This is not good,” I said. Our party weekend. Our plans for fun. I turned to Holly and said in as comforting a voice as I could, “I specifically reserved rooms without extra men.”
Holly, bless her heart, had to giggle. How many parties had we planned together where it was only the darkest humor that got us through it all in style?
“So what happened to the guy?” Wes asked.
“He went down on the bed,” Holly said, her smile fading. “I began to, well, to scream. Could you hear me?”
The walls at the Four Heavens were thick, and there were several rooms between ours.
“When he got up, he was holding his face and it looked cut pretty bad. I thought he was going to grab me again. But he just ran on out the door. I noticed he was careful not to step on Liz.”
“This is not in my itinerary at all,” I said.
Just then Liz began stirring, and I quickly walked over to help her up.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice sounding like she was just waking up after a long night’s sleep but couldn’t quite figure out why she had been dozing on a low-pile carpet emblazoned with a bamboo motif.
“I think you had a fall,” I said softly. “Are you feeling up to standing?”
“You feeling okay, Liz?” Wes asked, crouching down beside her too, and as she slowly nodded, he said, “Why don’t I help you over to our room.” And to me he added, “We better not touch anything else in here.”
I turned to Holly. “Tell me more about the guy. Give me details. While it’s all still fresh in your mind.”
“He wasn’t as tall as me,” Holly said. “More like your height.”
Five feet six.
“And he was kind of muscley, worked out, buff. You could see all this arm definition because he was wearing a tank-style T-shirt.”
“Anything else, Holly?”
“He was wearing glasses and his hair was kind of long. I don’t know. What else? I told you, Asian features.”
I waited for more.
“You know, Mad,” Holly said, “I’m not really sure anymore. Any guy looks pretty scary when he’s coming at you like that.”
“I think we should call the police.”
“Oh, Maddie. Police? On my bachelorette weekend?”
At the door to the room, Wes returned. “Liz is fine,” he said. “She walked the whole way. I don’t think she hit her head or did any real damage, thank goodness. And she didn’t see very much.”
“What do we do now?” Holly pulled her hand through her blond hair.
“Why don’t we discuss it back in our room?” Wes suggested.
“Yeah, okay,” Holly agreed. Her eyes swept back over the nearest of the two beds one more time, over the white silk lamp shade with the long rip, the broken pieces of the heavy lamp base, one large piece with the intact lightbulb still attached, and the bright spatters of fresh blood on the bedspread. “You know what else is odd?”
I looked at her.
“I think the guy used my name.”
Wes had been holding his arm around her, walking her back out of the room. But that odd piece of news stopped him. “What did he say?”
“Just that. Just ‘Holly.’ Or maybe he said ‘Honey.’”
We guided Holly out of the room and retrieved her and Liz’s little overnight bags, which had been left sitting outside the door. With Liz and Holly in our room, I began to calculate what this incident meant to our weekend. For one thing, it threw a rather major crimp in the whole spirit of party-party-party.
“Wes,” I said, waving him out onto our beautiful patio lanai. “Can I see you for a sec?”
We left the two friends inside, Holly pouring bottled water for Liz, retelling their versions of what had gone down, the two of them phoning Marigold and Gladdie and Daisy and Azalea, urging them to hurry over, while Wes and I stepped outside into the insistently cheerful sunshine.
“Should we call the cops?” I asked.
“Hotel management,” Wes advised. “They’re the ones responsible for the property.”
“Good,” I said, relieved. “But do you think we should cancel tonight’s festivities? I mean, Liz fainted. Holly’s kind of a wreck. And, Wes, there was blood on that bedspread.”
“I saw it.”
I sighed.
“But you know, Maddie…” He caught my eye, and I smiled. “We have a simple philosophy.”
“The party must go on,” I said.
“Exactly, sweetie.”
I reached out to hug Wes. He was right. Before every party, something always goes wrong. The party girl gets stress-hiccups. Or Aunt Laura in Baltimore can’t overcome her fear of flying. Or the guest of honor’s sitcom is canceled. Or…
“We’re on the Big Island for exactly two days,” Wes said. “We can overcome this.”
We stepped back into our room, and while Wes discreetly called the hotel manager, I answered the door, admitting the gaggle of colorful and bickering Nichols sisters. They loved their rooms. They pointed fingers at the sister who forgot to pack the digital camera. They screeched that Marigold must share her shampoo that keeps blond hair from turning green in the pool. But when they heard Holly’s tale the group became silent.
“You mean some creepy guy was hiding in your room?” asked Marigold.
“And you think he meant to hurt you?” Gladdie wanted to know.
“I don’t know what he wanted,” Ho
lly said. “But what the hell was he doing there?”
“Could he have been a hotel thief?” Daisy asked.
“And you just surprised him when you entered?” continued her twin, Azalea.
“A burglar?” asked Liz Mooney, thinking it over.
“What could he have wanted to steal?” Holly asked. “We hadn’t even moved our stuff into the room yet. If the guy was hoping to find wallets or jewelry, wouldn’t he have been smart enough to break into an occupied guest room?”
We all mulled that over.
“And why did he grab me so hard?” Holly asked.
“Until we get this taken care of,” Wes advised, “none of us should walk around this resort alone. Be careful.”
We all nodded.
“What did he look like?” Azalea wanted to know.
“It’s hard to say,” Liz answered, now fully recovered from her fainting spell. “I feel so silly for passing out! I think it was just the sheer surprise of it all.”
“So you don’t remember anything about him?” Gladiola, the middle Nichols sister, asked Liz.
“He didn’t look like a pervert. He was in great shape, bod-wise. Kind of young. He looked kind of…”
All the Nichols sisters waited for her description.
“…kind of cute, really.”
“Ew,” Marigold said, grossed out. “Tell us more. Every detail.”
“All I remember was thinking we must have walked into the wrong room, by mistake. And then this man said, ‘Hi, honey’…”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“That was it. I just remember being startled. Then Holly started attacking the guy…”
“Way to go, Holl,” said Azalea, one of the twins, pumping her fist.
“…and the next thing I remember, I could taste carpet fibers,” Liz finished.
“So now what?” asked Daisy.
“Since all of us are just fine, Madeline and I feel we should continue with Holly’s party weekend,” Wes said. “If that’s okay with you guys.”
“Thank goodness!” said Daisy.
“What’s next then?” asked Marigold.
“I have the schedule,” Wes said. Wesley Westcott always had a schedule. Holly and I smiled as he checked his watch. “And right at this very minute, we are all supposed to be enjoying a quick late-afternoon splash in the pool.”
“Yippee,” said Daisy.
“Yes, and then we’ll have some time to freshen up in our amazing outdoor lava rock showers and you all can change into your luau clothes.”
That was my cue. I pulled out a large box from under the desk. It contained packages we’d shipped ahead and which had been delivered to our room. Six large gift bags covered in shiny green palm fronds against a matte navy background were passed out to our surprised guests. Since none of them had a clue where we were taking them, we had shopped for each of the ladies.
“Goody bags.”
“Oh, Madeline!” Holly said, taking a deep breath. “Wow!” She pulled lime-green tissue paper from her bag, finding a turquoise string bikini wrapped within. “It’s freaking gorgeous!”
All the sisters opened their bags and began pulling out glittering new bathing suits, and loud Hawaiian-print sarongs, and custom flip-flops with the words HOLLY’S GETTING HITCHED emblazoned on the sole, and a rainbow of skimpy Four Heavens Resort T-shirts, and more.
Azalea held up the top of a Day-Glo orange bikini. “This is so me!”
I looked over at Wesley. We had definitely rounded the corner and were back to “fun.”
“So go on,” Wes offered. “Take a quick trip to the pool. But don’t forget your swimsuits tonight because we just might do some midnight swimming.”
The girls squealed.
“Tonight is our Bachelorette Luau for our Holly,” I said, and we all saw Holly blush prettily. “So get ready for a full night of lavish dining…”
“Yay!” called out Gladiola, smiling.
“…and flaming drinks that look like volcanoes…”
“Yay!” chimed Marigold, laughing.
“…and beachboys…”
“Yay!” agreed Azalea and Daisy.
“…and,” I finished, “hula dancing under the stars.”
Gladiola looked at Azalea, and Marigold looked at Daisy. And without saying another word, they scattered from our room, taking Holly and Liz Mooney with them down to the pool.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Wes and I went to see who was there. A handsome man in his late fifties stood outside.
“Hello,” he said, his voice pleasant. “I’m Jasper Berger, the assistant manager of the resort. May I please have a word with you?”
We stepped outside our room into the bright sunshine and warm afternoon breezes. Bald men look so much better with a great tan on their heads, I noticed. He wore a navy blazer over white linen slacks.
“Hello, Mr. Berger.”
“Please, please,” he said. “Do call me Jasper.”
“I’m Madeline Bean and this is my partner, Wes Westcott. We are here, as you probably know, to celebrate our friend’s bachelorette weekend.”
“Yes,” Berger said. “Your party just checked in.”
“Jennifer Sizemore helped set it up for us.”
“Ah, yes. Mrs. Sizemore.” His face remained pleasant.
I had dropped a big name. Jennifer was an old friend of mine from back in the day. We’d attended culinary school together in San Francisco, Jennifer once hiding my favorite whisk so she could outperform me in a cooking assessment on meringue. Not that she was competitive. And for that matter, not that I hold a grudge.
We’d never been the closest of friends, and after school we’d gone our separate ways. I’d gone on to start my own catering company in Los Angeles with Wesley, but Jennifer had set loftier goals, going the hospitality industry route. She had advanced quickly in corporate positions. It wasn’t too long before she’d been promoted to head of banquet sales for the Four Heavens chain. But she had recently moved up even further in that world. A year ago Jennifer married the company’s CEO and, shortly thereafter, had been named the new president of their resorts division.
“We are aware that you are Mrs. Sizemore’s guests here this weekend,” said Jasper.
It had struck me as sheer good luck when I’d received an e-mail from Jennifer two months ago, announcing her latest promotion and inviting us to come to Hawaii. We hadn’t kept in close touch. Still, she suggested that I come out to Hawaii and sample her latest hotel. She even offered to host our entire group. Wes made some comment about karma and the virtues of having sent Jenn an extremely nice wedding gift. I suspect it had more to do with her desire to show me how high in the world she had risen. But how could we resist? Jennifer’s offer made our destination decision for Holly’s bachelorette party a no-brainer.
Jasper continued, “Which is why I am here to help clear up the confusion about your friend’s room.”
Confusion. He was covering his butt. He didn’t want this incident to get back to Jennifer. But let’s get real. “What can you do?” I asked.
The assistant manager’s manner remained calm. “That is what I am wondering myself. You see, I checked room 1023. Just now. And I must tell you the room is fine. Completely as it should be. So perhaps this young lady who fainted, perhaps she was mistaken. Had she been feeling the heat, do you think? Or enjoying a cocktail, perhaps?”
“What do you mean?” Wes asked, ignoring the man’s ridiculous suggestions.
“There was nothing at all out of place in your friends’ room,” Jasper Berger said mildly.
We simply stared at him. “That’s impossible. We were there.”
“Would you care to accompany me down to the room and look for yourselves?” he asked, his voice friendly and concerned.
A chill traveled up my spine, despite the warm wind. What was going on here?
“Look, Mr. Berger,” I said as we walked quickly down the path, “my assistant, Holly, fought a man off
in that room. We all saw blood.”
Berger nodded thoughtfully, but on a sincerity scale of one to ten, his expression rated a two.
“On the bedspread,” I continued, more insistent. “This wasn’t some mistake of a confused guest. Two of my friends saw the man. And Wes and I saw the damage.”
Berger used his master key card and opened the door to room 1023. It was perfectly neat and completely without a trace of the mess that had been there before. The carpet was fresh and spotless. Sitting neatly on the two bedside tables was a pair of lamps. A pair.
“You are certain this was the room?” Berger asked, his voice not betraying a hair of exasperation.
“Yes.” I looked around. What was going on? The bedspread looked brand-new. There was not a stain on it now. “Someone cleaned it up.”
“Hm.” Berger said. “I already checked with housekeeping. They haven’t been in this room since the morning. And anyone else on the staff would certainly have radioed to me if they had discovered any damage to one of our rooms.”
“There was a young man waiting in this room, and he frightened our friend,” I said evenly, but Jasper Berger’s mild expression never changed. “And she fought him off.”
He nodded politely, his expression concerned but pleasant.
He was clearly an expert liar. There must be a great motivation in the hotel business to keep a lid on any disturbing events. Grim news cannot spread to the hotel guests. Berger was an experienced hotel manager. He would never tell us what had really gone on in here. But I was certain he knew.
Berger nodded his head again, not directly contradicting us, for that would be much too rude. Instead, he was a great philosopher unable to unlock the puzzle of humanity.
I sat down on the nearest bed, defeated by its crisp neatness.
“I am so sorry you have been distressed by this misunderstanding.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice matching his in sincerity. My hand, however, had suddenly touched something cold, something tucked away beneath the pillow. Probably a bedtime mint.
“Tell me, Miss Bean,” he said warmly, unaware I was now feeling around carefully behind me in the folds of the bedspread, “are you planning to visit our spa tomorrow?”
The Flaming Luau of Death Page 3