Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series)

by Jill Marie Landis

  “Yeah.” Flora roused herself from where she was propped up on a sofa pillow on the floor. “Da poi, da flowers, da akule, all gone. But we got the cooler.”

  “Tell her what was in it.” Pat was sitting on one of the bar stools at the short kitchen counter in the corner. Her hand was wrapped in so many layers of white gauze that it was almost the size of a basketball.

  Flora snorted. “All our stuffs was gone. Whoever took it left a note. Mahalo for the fish and poi. They sent the cooler back with about a dozen cans of teriyaki flavored Spam. Big deal. Spam.”

  “What happened to your hand?” Em asked Pat.

  “The gol’danged monkey is what happened to my hand. The dang thing bit me. I’m on antibiotics the size of golf balls.”

  “Did you cage it?”

  “H-ell no. I almost had it stuffed in the cage, but then it bit into my hand and hung on. Like to bit my fingers off. I started screaming just as a maid walked in. She started screamin’. The monkey started screamin’. It let go of me and went for the maid. She ran out the door and so did the monkey. Once he got out in the hall he forgot all about the maid and took off.”

  “Where is he now?” Em asked.

  “Loose in the hotel somewhere,” Kiki said.

  “We’re hoping it’s still in the hotel,” Trish said. “If it’s gone for good Louie will lose his rental deposit.”

  “Rental deposit?” Em looked around. Louie had failed to mention a deposit.

  “Yes, and judging by Louie’s reaction when we told him the monkey was missing, it was a hefty amount,” Trish said.

  “I hope that furry sucker is under a bus filled with a dozen six hundred pound tourists.” Pat moved her arm and winced.

  “Pat! How could you say that?” Lillian, her face coated in makeup, was about to cry. “That poor thing is one of God’s little creatures.”

  “That little critter needs to be shot, stuffed, and hung on a wall or maybe skinned and made into a placemat.” Pat said. “I coulda lost my whole hand. I’d like to cut his balls off, but he doesn’t have any.”

  Em noticed Kiki staring at her.

  “You look frazzled, Em. Where have you been? Did you and Roland find the Booze Bible and the creep who took it yet?” Kiki asked.

  Em sank into the only available space on the corner of the sofa beside Suzi’s encased foot. She glanced at the TV and noticed the early afternoon edition of the news was on.

  “Where are the others?” she asked.

  Kiki said, “Precious signed up for the Atlantis Submarine ride. Big Estelle is down at the bar. Last time I saw her she was hiding behind some potted plants spying on Little Estelle. Her mom met up with a bunch of Shriners she used to know, and she’s been partying big time ever since.”

  “Last time I saw her she was performing her rap for them,” Em said.

  “I saw her just before I came up here,” Trish said. “She had on a fez and was trying to belly dance.”

  “She was dancing?” Kiki couldn’t believe it.

  “While sitting on the Gadabout,” Trish said.

  Em took a deep breath and let it out and glanced over the television news. Honolulu had the lowest crime rate of any city its size, so a murder was always the lead story. It was only a matter of time before someone found out Phillip Johnson was her ex.

  Em raised her voice to get their attention. “I’m glad most of you are here. There’s something I need to tell you before you hear it somewhere else,” she said.

  One by one, the Hula Maidens fell silent. So quickly that the men at the table stopped talking to see what was up.

  “There’s a little more going on than just the theft of Louie’s Booze Bible,” she began. “Sometime between early yesterday evening and last night, my ex-husband was shot and killed.”

  Lillian immediately got up and rushed to Em’s side and threw her arm around her shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing!”

  “Are you flying to California?” Trish asked.

  “He was here in Waikiki, on vacation with his fiancée.”

  Kiki shook her head. “Did she kill him? If you divorced him, he must have been a real piece of work.”

  “The police don’t know who killed him yet, but his fiancée has an alibi.” Em smoothed an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. “We did discover he’s the one who stole Louie’s Booze Bible.”

  “How did he know you were on Oahu? Did you tell him? Did you invite him up to your room? Is that when he stole it?” Kiki was on the edge of her chair.

  Suzi smiled. “But now that you know where the notebook is, Louie will get it back.”

  “The police are still looking for it. They haven’t found it yet.”

  “So how do you know Phillip had it?”

  “The reception video tape shows him dropping off an extortion letter.”

  “So who killed him?” Kiki asked.

  “They think maybe it was a neighbor of his. Some guy named Damian Bautista. Yesterday afternoon Phillip rented one of those no-tell day, week, month apartments and got in an argument with Bautista over a parking space out front. The neighbors saw it go down.”

  Flora put down her water bottle—which was full of something far more potent than water.

  “Probably a case of road rage,” she said. “I had that once. Went to my shrink. He gave me anger management.”

  “No kidding. You have a shrink?” Kiki sounded amazed.

  Flora shrugged. “Yeah, sure. He tol’ me to slap myself every time I opened my mouth to yell at somebody when I was driving.”

  “Did it work?” Em asked.

  “I guess. Now I never yell at anybody. I flip ’em off, and if they don’t get the message, I smack my bumper into theirs.”

  “So are the police looking for the neighbor?” Kiki asked.

  Em said, “Yes. I have to meet Roland again in a few minutes. He’s contacting the detective on the case.” She didn’t say any more because she didn’t want Louie to find out she was a possible suspect. None of the Maidens could keep a secret very long.

  “How’s my uncle doing? Have you seen him?” Em asked.

  Trish said, “I went over to the convention center to tell him the monkey is on the loose. He wasn’t too concerned because he was elated about getting top scores on his demonstration today. He’s out picking up some special ingredients and is determined to pull something fabulous together. He said he’s got an idea for a whole new concoction with a brand new legend. He seemed really excited about it.”

  “That’s great news,” Em said. “He’s been so down since his notebook went missing I was worried about him.”

  “Of course he has,” Kiki said. “If I ever lost one of my hula notebooks I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Em walked over to the efficiency kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a diet soda. She found a clean Solo cup and poured the soda over ice. Liquor bottles were lined up on the countertop. Em hoped this crowd wasn’t going through Louie’s ingredients.

  “I’d appreciate it if you all wait and let me tell Uncle Louie about Phillip,” she said.

  They all agreed not to bring it up until Kiki said, “What if he hears it on the news and says something to us?”

  Kiki refilled her martini glass. She never traveled without it and refused to use plastic cups.

  “He’s been too preoccupied to watch TV. And by the way everyone, don’t drink all his booze,” Em said.

  Kiki tasted her martini and smacked her lips. “The girls would love to see Roland tonight. We’re dancing at Tiki’s Grill and Bar on Kalakaua. Bring him by around seven. It’s not far from the Duke Kahanamoku Statue at the other end of Waikiki.”

  Em knew right where Tiki’s was located. Before the latest life-quake hit she had planned to stop by and see if s
he could pick up any ideas for the Goddess.

  “I’ll tell him,” Em said. “But don’t count on us.”

  She took a sip of the soda and added, “You know, Tiki’s is almost across from the Waikiki police substation. If you get in trouble the police won’t have to transport you. If you do get arrested again, do not call me.”

  She’d already seen enough of the substation and Officer Chun.

  31

  EM WAS ABOUT TO step into the elevator to meet Roland when he texted her and said he was waiting at Hilton’s Tropic’s Bar and Grill next to the beach. She made her way through the crowded walkways to the restaurant across from the Super Pool.

  Happy Hour was underway, and the place was already packed. There was a waiting line out the door. People were seated on the low fire rings and planters in front waiting to be called.

  She didn’t see Roland in line so she looked for him inside and found him alone at a premier table for four. He was seated next to a window overlooking the pier dubbed Port Hilton where the catamaran rides launched.

  “How’d you get such a great table?” She slid into the seat across from him.

  He smiled. She melted.

  “Oh, of course. That would do it. Did you talk to Bardon?”

  “Bardon called to say he’s coming to talk to us. He’ll be here in five minutes.”

  Em’s heart sank. “Should I run?”

  “Hard to hide on an island.”

  She stared out at the rolling breakers and the horizon in the distance. “I should have stayed on Kauai.”

  “Your ex would have still stolen Louie’s recipe book if that’s what he came for. He’d have made up some excuse to talk to your uncle, conned his way into the hotel room, sent the extortion letter. If Louie was here on his own, he would have mortgaged himself to the hilt to get the book back. You’re the voice of reason.”

  “You’re right, but the voice of reason is now a murder suspect.”

  “What if the fiancée is good for it? We just have to disprove her alibi.”

  “What if she had the gangster do it for her? Or the bodyguard?”

  “Possible, but doubtful. If he is Yakuza, Hasigawa will want to keep a low profile while he’s here.”

  “We’ll have to wait and see what Bardon knows,” she said.

  They ordered two iced teas. Em couldn’t believe it when Roland ordered off the pupu menu a thick-cut onion ring tower with likiko’i Sriracha ketchup.

  “You’re kidding, right? We just ate a little over an hour ago.”

  “I’m on vacation.”

  “Some vacation. Did you get a room yet?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Can I hang out on your sofa?”

  “Why not? The monkey moved out.”

  Bardon showed up just as the onion ring tower hit the table.

  “Mind if I dig in? I’m starving.” He set his notepad down and reached for a ring and ordered a soda.

  Em watched Bardon chow down on fried onion rings, waiting to hear that she was off the suspect list. Finally he wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin and leaned back. He wasn’t smiling.

  “Here’s what we know. Phillip Johnson was shot through the heart. He didn’t kill himself. There was no powder residue on his hand. The gun was his, but wiped clean. We went through his things. After you called about the stolen binder we took the place apart again but never found it. All he had was a couple of suitcases and a briefcase. Nothing appeared to be missing. Nor did we find any extortion letters. Are you sure he was the thief?”

  Em’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

  “Ninety-nine percent sure.” Roland handed him the copies of the video stills. “That’s Phillip Johnson delivering two large envelopes to the front desk yesterday morning. Two extortion letters were delivered in envelopes exactly like those around the same time, before Em met him for lunch. One was delivered to Em’s uncle, Louie Marshall, and the other to Lamar dePesto, the founder of the Shake Off contest.”

  “Mr. Johnson demanded money for the return of the missing notebook?”

  “Right,” Em said. “One hundred thousand dollars. He left another letter offering to sell a copy of it to dePesto for a lot less.”

  Roland handed Bardon the extortion letter. “I’ve made a copy for us to keep. Here’s the original delivered to Mr. Marshall.”

  Bardon whistled. “Good gig if you can get it.” He looked at Em thoughtfully. “That must have pissed you off.”

  “What do you mean?” She knew exactly what he meant, but she wanted him to say it.

  “Were you mad enough about the theft and extortion to kill Johnson?”

  “I wouldn’t have killed him even if I had known he was the thief and extortionist. We didn’t see the video tape of him at the front desk until after we left the murder scene today. The playback cameras were down until then. I had no idea he was the thief until this afternoon. I suspected it was one of the contestants.”

  Bardon turned to Roland, who nodded.

  “That still from the video is practically fresh out of the printer,” Roland told him.

  “We have no proof of what was in those envelopes Johnson dropped off or even if they were the ones delivered to your uncle and dePesto,” Bardon said.

  “We found Felicity Duncan,” Roland said. “She let me question her. She said your men had already interviewed her.”

  Bardon flipped through his notebook pages until he found what he was looking for. “What’d you get?”

  Roland read his own notes. “When the hotel blew the whistle on Johnson’s bad credit she threw him out. That’s when he must have rented the apartment. That was early afternoon, sometime after they left the Halekulai where he met and had lunch with Em. Ms. Duncan said she joined them and met Mrs. Johnson. Then last evening the fiancée met up with a hotel guest whose son was married there yesterday.”

  “He invited her to the reception last night,” Bardon filled in.

  “And ended up spending the night in his suite,” Roland finished.

  “She felt so bad about dumping her fiancé she just didn’t want to be alone.” Bardon almost smiled.

  “She said that?” Em tried to see his notes.

  “No. That was me being sarcastic,” Bardon said.

  “The father of the groom didn’t appear to be just any guy. Did your men meet him?”

  “No, they talked to her alone but they got a name. Hasigawa, a Japanese visitor.”

  “Right. A visitor with a bodyguard. I’m thinking they could be Yakuza.”

  Bardon nodded. “I didn’t know about the bodyguard. We’ll check it out, but for now Duncan still has a solid alibi. Hasigawa is probably here on a travel visa. We’re checking.”

  “I don’t think he’d lie for her,” Roland said.

  Bardon turned to Em. “Why didn’t you tell me you were taken to the Waikiki substation by Hilton security last night?”

  “I wasn’t arrested. It was all a big mistake,” she said.

  “I just spoke to Chun. Attempted burglary, right?”

  “I didn’t burgle anything. I was looking for the stolen notebook. You can’t steal something that belongs to you. He didn’t book me.”

  Bardon pulled a folded piece of copy paper out of his pocket and slid it over to Em. “This is a copy of a letter we found in Johnson’s apartment. He wrote it to you.”

  “Me?” Her voice broke on the word. She didn’t want to touch it.

  “Want me to read it to you?” Roland asked.

  Though the detective knew what was in it, Em hated reading the letter with Bardon sitting there. There was no telling what Phillip had written. She picked it up, read in silence.

  Dearest Em,

  Seeing you today reminded me of all I lost because of
my own stupidity. I am so sorry for ruining our lives, bankrupting us, and most of all, embarrassing you. Hurting you was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but I am willing to change my life if you’ll give me another chance. I know I broke your heart and don’t deserve you, but today I got the feeling you might still love me and want to reconcile. Please, if there is any hope, just say the word.

  Phillip

  “What?” Em looked up in shock. “He’s crazy. In no way did I act like I wanted to reconcile. That’s the last thing on earth I’d ever want!” She handed the letter to Roland. He scanned it.

  Bardon pushed the empty pupu plate aside and leaned forward. “You can both see how a prosecutor would have a field day with this one. Your husband admitted he ruined your life, bankrupted you, and broke your heart. Let’s say you did still have feelings for him. Then you met him for lunch and saw him with a beautiful fiancée. He appeared to have money again. Furious, blinded by jealousy and revenge, you tracked him down and killed him.”

  Em was too livid to cry.

  “How?” She raised her voice. Roland laid his hand on her forearm. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. “How could I have tracked him down in Honolulu after he left the Moana? Come on. That’s insane.”

  Bardon wouldn’t back off. “Maybe he contacted you to tell you he’d moved out of the Moana and that his engagement was over. We’ll check your cell phone records. Maybe he told you where he moved to. Besides, you’re good at playing detective. I googled you and Garden Island archive articles came up. It seems you and your friends are always playing amateur detective. You all even received a proclamation from the mayor honoring you for helping solve a recent murder case on Kauai.”

  “Everyone receives a proclamation from the mayor,” Roland said.

  Bardon ignored him and kept badgering Em. “Maybe you thought you were so good at crime fighting that you could get away with murder.”

  Roland leaned across the table and got in the detective’s face.