“They’ll post the schedule in the morning. I’ll let you know.” He studied her carefully. “You must be in shock, honey. I mean, you just had lunch with Phillip yesterday, and now he’s dead.”
She nodded. “It’s pretty surreal. When we were divorced I never wanted to see him again. When he called to say he was coincidentally going to be here during the contest week and asked me to lunch, I thought it would be good to have some closure. He seemed happy and acted like he had his act together, but that was all just another lie.”
Afraid she would break down and upset Louie, Em paced over to the windows. She drew back the drapes far enough to see the water and steady herself before she let the drapes fall back into place and walked back to the bar.
“How did you find out he stole the Booze Bible?” Louie wanted to know.
“Roland and I viewed the front desk security video and saw him drop off two large envelopes like the ones that held the extortion letters. That was around the time your letter was supposedly delivered.”
“Is Roland coming back here? His overnight bag is still on the floor.”
“I hope you don’t mind if he sleeps on the sofa tonight. He can’t get a room.”
“No problem. I’ll be turning in early. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“I think I’ll head into my room now, if you don’t mind.”
“You must be exhausted. You go right ahead and climb in bed and relax. I’m just gonna put a few ingredients together and see what happens. I shouldn’t be up long.”
She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you. I can’t make any promises, but we’re doing everything we can to get your Booze Bible back.”
“There are far worse tragedies in life. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I’m over it. I’m excited about creating a brand new cocktail without any references. The challenge has revved me up. Why, if Letterman’s not careful, I may not need him to taste test anymore.”
She found herself smiling back at him. Louie would never give up his precious parrot.
“Don’t stay up late,” she advised before she headed for her room.
He picked up a wand lighter. “I won’t. And with any luck at all, I won’t blow my face off.”
34
AT EIGHT THE next morning, Kiki and Pat were in the hallway outside the door to Em and Louie’s suite.
“Don’t knock yet,” Kiki told Pat.
“How’m I supposed to knock? I got the boom box in my good hand, and other one is history.” She held up her bandage.
“Lower your voice. Do you know what to do?” Kiki whispered.
“You told me seventeen times. I made sure the tape is loaded and ready to roll. Once we get in there and you start asking Em stuff about the missing neighbor slash suspect, I push play, and we record the whole conversation.”
“Right.” Kiki shifted her large black leather purse higher on her shoulder. Her hands were full of grocery bags. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Pat said.
Kiki knocked on the door. No one answered. She knocked again, and Em opened the door.
“Whoa, Em. You look like bad road kill,” Pat said.
Em shoved her hair back off her face. Her eyes were red and bleary. There were pillow creases on her cheeks.
“Sleep in, did we?” Kiki strode in past her and looked around the sitting room. “No Roland?”
She took a few more steps and glanced into Em’s bedroom. It would have made a real nice piece of gossip for the girls if she’d caught Roland in Em’s bed.
Em looked around the sitting room. Worry etched itself onto her expression. She said, “He was going to bunk on the sofa, but his backpack’s gone. I guess he got a room.” She walked over to the bar.
Kiki followed her. Em picked up a piece of Hilton notepaper lying on the bar, read it, and smiled.
“He did manage to get his own room. He’ll call me later.”
“Bummer,” Pat said.
Kiki gave her a hard look. Pat set the boom box on the bar.
Em yawned. “What are you two doing up and around so early? How was your performance at Tiki’s?”
“The performance was fabulous as usual. We did about ten numbers, and the crowd kept yelling hana ho. One man tipped us fifty bucks and said he’d never seen such precision. We’re here to make breakfast for you,” Kiki said. “The prices are ridiculous in this place, so we went out and bought some eggs, milk, and fruit at the ABC Store. Didn’t think you’d mind us using your kitchen. We only have a standard room.”
“Help yourself.” Em walked over to the coffee pot and stared at it.
“You go sit down. I’ll do that.” Kiki bustled around, found the coffee, filled the pot, and turned it on. Then she started unpacking sacks. “Where’s Louie?”
“He said he was going over to the convention center early. He’s presenting his entry in the contest today.”
“He finished the recipe?” Pat slipped onto a barstool next to the boom box.
Em said, “I guess so. He’s not here, and the kitchen is all cleaned up. It’s a flaming something.”
“That’s just downright scary,” Pat said.
“This place is pretty well equipped for an efficiency kitchen.” Kiki held up a frying pan and set it on the cooktop.
“So, tell us about the murder.” She turned around, caught Em staring out the front sliding windows at the beach, and signaled Pat to turn on the boom box.
Pat made a loud coughing noise to disguise the click of the play button. It wouldn’t have mattered. Em wasn’t paying attention.
“Em?”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Tell us about the murder. Any new developments?” Kiki opened a carton of eggs. “By the way, did you tell Louie yet?”
“Last night.”
“Good. He would have found out sooner than later and wondered why you didn’t say anything. How’d he take it?”
“He was shocked at first, but he seemed more shocked about Phillip stealing the Booze Bible than the murder. We still haven’t found it, by the way.”
“Who are the suspects again?” Kiki found a bowl and started cracking eggs into it. “I’m making scrambled,” she told Em.
“Scrambled sounds great.” Em thought a moment. “As far as I know, the only suspects are me and the neighbor Phillip argued with.”
“What about the fie-on-say?” Pat asked.
“She’s got an alibi that’s pretty airtight,” Em told them.
“What’s the neighbor’s name again?” Kiki tried to sound as if she didn’t care what the guy’s name was, as if her whole plan didn’t hinge on it.
“Damian Bautista.” Em reached over the counter toward a wheel of Laughing Cow cheese and opened it. “What are you doing?” she asked Kiki.
“I’m using coconut oil to scramble the eggs.”
“That’s the stuff you rub on to get a tan. Or I should say a burn.” Em stared at the bottle in Kiki’s hand.
“It’s pure coconut oil. I use it for everything—cooking, facial moisturizer, and hair conditioner.”
“That the same stuff they sell by the other suntan oils and stuff?” Pat wanted to know.
Kiki shot her a glare. “This is the cooking stuff. Same thing.”
“So, what about this Bautista?” Pat got the hint and steered the conversation back on track.
“Sounds Portugee.” Kiki turned the stove on and started whisking the eggs with a fork and then added some milk out of a pint container.
“I haven’t been an islander long enough to know what kind of a name that is. It’s definitely not Hawaiian.” Em pulled the red tab and unwrapped a wedge of cheese.
“Flora might know some Bautistas.” Kiki
carefully poured the eggs into the hot oil in the skillet.
“You promised you wouldn’t do anything, Kiki,” Em reminded her. “The HPD doesn’t need your help.”
Kiki pressed her lips together and focused on the eggs. Then she said, “Open the rest of those cheese wedges for me please, Em.”
Em started opening. The coffee was almost finished brewing.
“Do they think maybe it was a random killing?” Pat asked. “This Bautista guy, why would he kill your ex?”
“They got into it over a parking space on the street. From what we learned yesterday, Phillip’s fiancée broke up with him and kicked him out of their suite at the Moana. He must have been carrying enough money to rent one of those day-week-month studios in a seedy neighborhood. It’s in a building called the Lokelani. Phillip was probably enraged at that point. Maybe the neighbor didn’t like his attitude. Maybe he followed Phillip. Phillip had a gun—I have no idea why—but maybe the guy went to Phillip’s apartment, and they got into it again. Phillip ended up dead. I really don’t know.”
“That’s a lot of maybes,” Pat said.
Em had finished opening the cheese wedges. “I’ve never put this in eggs.”
Kiki shrugged. “Me either, but it was the only cheese they had at the ABC Store.” She started chopping up the wedges and tossing cheese into the eggs.
“So the guy hasn’t been home? The missing neighbor?” Pat prodded.
The coffee was brewed. Em got up and poured some for all three of them. She said, “The police searched his place and discovered he uses it for storage. He doesn’t live there.”
“What were they looking for?”
“Something that would connect him to the murder. They found the murder weapon at the scene. It turned out to be a gun that Phillip owned, and it had been wiped clean of prints. They didn’t find the Booze Bible at Phillip’s or Bautista’s.”
“Is the place easy to get into?” Kiki peppered the eggs. “Maybe someone else took it.”
Em said, “The building has a very over-zealous apartment manager.”
“Why would Phillip steal the Booze Bible?” Pat asked.
“He needed money. I guess he thought Louie would pay anything for it. Roland and I found out he delivered the extortion letters to Louie and one other man before he was murdered. So Phillip had to have stolen it, or at the very least he was in on it. He must have had it in his possession at one point. Very few people would know what it’s worth.”
“Unless they were a bartender or they read the same article Phillip did,” Kiki said.
“That was in the LA Times,” Em said.
“What if he had a partner in on the thievery with him? Maybe the partner killed him and took the Booze Bible so he could get all the money himself.” Pat ran her palm over her buzz cut.
Kiki started pulling plates off of a shelf. She dished up the cheesy scrambled eggs and opened a couple of banana nut muffins, divided them with a knife, and set some slices on the plate next to the eggs.
“Boy, those look good,” Em said. “This was a great idea, Kiki.”
“Eat up,” Kiki said. “Lots to do today. We’ll need some protein.”
“Like what are you doing?” Em forked up more eggs.
Kiki paused, careful not to raise Em’s suspicion.
“What time is Louie’s demonstration? We should be there to cheer him on.”
“I’m not sure yet. He said he’d let me know.” Em sounded less than enthusiastic.
“Is there a problem? Louie’s still in the contest, isn’t he?” Kiki knew when Em was being evasive. The woman couldn’t lie to save her soul.
Em said, “Oh, he’s still competing. It’s just that . . .”
“Go on, spill it,” Pat said.
“I’m afraid all of you might be too big of a distraction,” Em said. “Everyone recognizes you now, and, truthfully, you aren’t exactly a low key group. This is Louie’s big day, not a Hula Maidens event. I think the spotlight should be on my uncle.”
Kiki’s initial reaction was anger, but it quickly cooled and pooled into hurt, mostly because she knew Em was right. She ate a couple of bites of egg in silence and thought about what Em said.
“You’re probably right,” Kiki finally admitted. “It is Louie’s big day. I would imagine all those bartenders and cocktail experts would get pretty excited if we all walked in. They’d probably want us to endorse their bars or their new drinks or whatever.” She wagged her fork in Em’s direction. “We’ll steer clear of the competition, but as soon as he’s finished, call my cell and let me know how it went.”
She and Pat tried to hurry breakfast and the clean up afterward and not act like they wanted to get away quickly. The other gals were waiting for them in Suzi and Trish’s room.
Once they were in the hall, Kiki shushed Pat until they were inside the elevator alone and the doors slid shut.
“What now?” Pat said.
“Now we join the girls, make sure we have the information we need, and coach Flora. I hate to think getting into Bautista’s apartment hinges on her, but she’s the only one local enough to get us inside. Once she’s well-rehearsed, we’ll load everyone into the van and head over to the murder scene.”
“We takin’ Little Estelle?”
“She’s one of our biggest diversions, but if she rolls off and disappears, we’ll waste valuable time looking for her. It would be better to leave her here.”
“Then what?”
“Then Flora and I will go inside the apartment while the rest of you create a diversion outside. If you didn’t have that cursed monkey bite, you’d be going in with us. As it is, you’ll have to keep an eye on the rest of the Maidens and man the boom box.”
“While you and Flora do what, exactly?”
“Look for clues in the apartment.”
“Like what kind of clues?” Pat pressed.
Kiki shrugged. “I’ll know them when I see them.”
35
“EVER’BODY IN?” PAT called off the names of the Hula Maidens in the rental van. “Kiki? Big Estelle? Trish? Flora? Precious? Lillian?”
When they heard their names, each of them hollered back, “A’i!”
Pat pushed the button on the automatic sliding door and drove out of the Hilton parking structure. Riding shotgun, Kiki punched the coordinates for Damian Bautista’s apartment into the GPS tracker they had rented with the van.
Pat drove with one hand, navigating the crowded streets as Waikiki melded into Honolulu. Kiki leaned between the seats to give last minute instructions to the women in back. The Maidens were all outfitted in the same style muumuu in various bright floral fabrics.
“Flora, put the water bottle away. You need a clear head for this caper. Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“This is not just water. It’s ‘special’ water for my nerves. I know what to do, don’t worry.” Flora shoved the plastic Gatorade bottle into her straw bag. “I gotta tell the manager I’m the guy’s cousin and get us into the apartment.”
“What’s the guy’s name?”
“Damian Bautista,” Flora said.
Kiki turned her gaze on Lillian. “What’s step one, Lil?”
“Step one. Get out of the van. Make sure we get noticed.”
“Perfect.” Kiki nodded. “Big Estelle, what’s step two?”
“Step two. Engage anyone and everyone we can in conversation while you track down the manager,” Big Estelle said.
“Step three? Precious?”
“Step three. When you give me the high sign, I yell ‘How about a dance?’”
“Step four, Trish.” Kiki nodded at Trish.
“Step four. Pat gets the boom box ready, and we line up while you and Flora head into the building.”
“Step five? Everyone say it all together.” Kiki wagged her finger at them.
They shouted in unison, “Dance as long as we have to and don’t leave the vicinity of the van no matter what.”
“And what’s the one thing you are not to forget?”
They answered in unison, “At all times be ready to run!”
Kiki smiled. “Perfect. Remember, we are venturing into unchartered territory. This is not Kauai. This is a sketchy area. These people only know what they’ve seen of us on television. They are not our friends. Anything could happen. If anything bad starts to go down, I want you all in this van and ready to roll.” She turned to Pat. “If perchance something were to happen, say the police show up, load up the van and get the girls out of there ASAP. Don’t wait for Flora and me. Got it?”
“I got it, but I don’t like it. I don’t like leaving one of our own behind,” Pat grumbled.
“Flora and I didn’t just fall off the taro truck. If we get in a fix, we’ll get ourselves out of it. Right, Flora?”
Flora burped.
Big Estelle waved her hand around in the air until Kiki noticed.
“What, Big Estelle?”
“Speaking of getting out of trouble, do you have any idea how long this is going to take? I’m hoping we can get back to the hotel before Mother gets herself into any jams.”
“Why isn’t she with us? I forget,” Lillian said.
“The Shriners are breaking up in to group sessions today. Last night one of her friends invited her to be a guest panelist,” Big Estelle said.
Kiki said, “I’m sure that seemed like a great idea when they were all closing down the bar at one a.m.”
“What in the heck is she gonna talk about?” Flora asked.
“Her duties as First Lady of the TajMaHaLay Lodge.”
Pat made a left turn. A cab behind them started honking like crazy as it drove by. She glanced in the rearview mirror. “What’s his problem?”
The computerized voice on the GPS tracker lost its cool and started yelling, “Danger. Pull over now. You are going the wrong way on a one way street. Danger. Danger. Pull over now!”
Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) Page 19