The Scent of Waikiki (Trouble in Paradise Book 9)

by Terry Ambrose

  She stood, leaned over and gave me a kiss, then stacked her cup, our plates, and the silverware on a bamboo serving tray we’d found while wandering the streets of Chinatown. As she closed the screen door, I went back to surveying the sky. Pink streamers stretched across a blue canvass while palm tree leaves waved like flags in the breeze. Watching the day begin was a ritual I’d never tire of. Most of the time, this was nothing more than a relaxing interlude before life began. But today, I was a man on a mission.

  The reason Chance always surfed here in the mornings was simple. He could walk out his front door, surfboard under his arm, go about a hundred feet to the parking lot, then take a left to the ocean. The grassy area separating the sand from the asphalt, which is only about fifteen-feet wide, led directly to a beach with soft sand. Total walk time for the kid was in the neighborhood of two minutes unless he got waylaid by a nosy neighbor.

  In the time Chance had lived here, his surfing skills had grown. He didn’t fall as often, didn’t cut off others—a huge no-no out there in the ocean, and he could now take on larger waves. He’d never make the pro tour, but he had some skills. Not bad for a spoiled rich kid from LA.

  A fast-moving swell rolled toward shore. Chance must have seen it because he began paddling. The swell developed a crest and white surf curled forward just as he hopped up on his board. Looking sure-footed, he rode the wave in close to shore and then, in a sign of victory, threw his arms in the air and dropped backwards into the ocean. It had been one of his better rides, and I was sure he’d be jacked up over his success.

  Carrying his board, he trudged out of the water, a huge grin on his face. He saw me, waved, and began walking toward my lānai. By the time he stood on the grassy strip separating the apartments from the beach, he was beaming.

  “Did you see that, McKenna? The surf is awesome this morning!”

  “I saw.” I put my coffee cup on the glass table in front of me and smiled. “You’re getting better and better.”

  Chance’s mouth opened, he frowned, and his gaze narrowed. “Wait. You’re being nice. What do you want? You need a ride into town? I thought Benni was still here.”

  “Slow down, kid. She’s here. I don’t need a ride.” I rolled my eyes and reached for my mug. “Jeez, a guy can’t even give a friend a compliment.”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Fine. I do need a favor. Actually, Grace in number fourteen needs the favor. It’s not a big thing…well, actually, it could be.”

  “It’s your turn to slow down, McKenna. You’re rambling. That’s never a good sign.” Chance laid his board on the grass, then put his towel on the chair next to mine and plopped down. “What’s up?”

  “You know Grace, yah?”

  “I think. Nice lady. Asian. Has that gray skunk-tail streak in her bangs.” He pointed to a spot over his right eye. “That’s her, right?”

  “Grace might not appreciate the description, but that’s her. She’s a typical local. Has to work two jobs to make ends meet. Unfortunately, she had very little savings and made a bad decision.”

  “Hold on. You said, ‘had’ very little savings. Did she lose it?”

  “She got scammed. Some guy sold her one of those overpriced sales kits so she could do in-home beauty consultations. She said she liked this company because they had some fancy perfume coming out soon. Benni said something about it making a woman more attractive to Mr. Right. How’s a perfume going to make Grace more attractive?”

  “McKenna, she’s not a bad looking woman. She’s pretty, actually. But, she’s middle-aged and maybe she’s tired of being single. Who knows? You found Benni. Why shouldn’t Grace find someone?”

  “We’re getting off track. My love life—and Grace’s—are not the subject here. I’m not judging her actions, other than who she did business with. She said she gave this guy money and then someone cleaned out her bank account. She’s got nothing left.”

  Chance whistled as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He sounded sad as he spoke. “Wow. That’s terrible. I assume you’re not asking me to loan her money for her rent.”

  “I am not hitting up the Bank of Chance Logan for Grace’s rent money. No.”

  He nodded, sat up straight, and looked me in the eye. There was a glint of hope in his eyes, and I could tell he was doing his best not to smile. “You totally want to take on her case, don’t you?”

  “Benni’s here. The wedding’s just around the corner. We still have to figure out our post-nuptial living arrangements.”

  Chance gawked at me. “You haven’t done that yet?”

  Gazing out to the ocean, I watched the waves for a few seconds. With a heavy sigh, I said, “Neither of us really want to give up what we have. It’s complicated. Anyway, what about Grace? Can you help her?”

  He scrunched up his face and made some kind of mouth noise he probably intended to convey disappointment. “I suppose.”

  “Tell you what, if you need a consultant, I’m all yours. Benni won’t mind. She says she wants me to help Grace, but I can tell she’s not green-lighting me to go all in. I can’t be spending my entire day chasing after a scammer while I’m supposed to be doing wedding stuff.”

  Chance stood, crossed the lānai to where his surfboard lay on the grass, and picked it up. With it under his right arm, he looked straight at me and said, “I’m holding you to that, McKenna.”

  Oh, great. Now I’d said “I do” to the wrong question.

  CHAPTER 6

  By ten-thirty, Chance was back. He had that sheepish grin on his face—the one he gets when he’s the one who needs something. It was a look he probably perfected when he was about six so he could get his dad to buy him an F-18 when he wanted to play fighter pilot.

  “I know you told me you couldn’t be involved,” he said. “I’ve discovered something that’s a bit of a sticky situation for me, though. I only need an hour of your time.”

  It did feel good to be needed. And if it was only for an hour or so, Benni would never have to know. Besides, she was where I wasn’t supposed to be, at her fitting. It wasn’t like I was taking on a new responsibility. I was just helping a friend while my bride-to-be was otherwise occupied.

  “An hour? That’s all? Maybe I could swing it. What do you need? Is your scammer trying to hide and you need me to find him? That’s probably going to take more than an hour, but I might be able to stretch it.”

  “Um, not exactly.” Chance bit his lower lip and stretched out his words. “I need to visit someone.”

  Something was fishy. “I don’t know, Chance. Benni’s getting stressed and I’d like to help make some decisions.”

  “Well good for you, McKenna.” A moment later, a sly grin inched its way across Chance’s face. “Oh, I get it. You’re totally looking for an excuse to go do something.”

  “Totally might be a bit strong.” A rush of heat grew in my cheeks and Chance’s grin turned into a full-on smirk. He had me dead to rights. He knew it. I knew it. And Benni? Well, that was a given. “Fine. I’ll break it to her gently. Where do we need to go?”

  Chance’s face flushed about four shades of red, and he went from that confident six-year-old ready to take on an entire enemy air squadron into a man facing death.

  “I need to go see Skye Pilkington-Winchester.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. Then, I burst out laughing. Chance and I had met Skye during what the Honolulu press started calling the “Honolulu Hottie” case. At the time, Skye’s divorce from her third wealthy husband had just been finalized and she had acquired Island Passion as part of the settlement. Suppressing another giggle, I said, “You’re kidding me. Yah?”

  “No,” Chance muttered.

  My sense of mirth suddenly evaporated. “Tell me you’re not going to her house. The last time we were there she practically undressed and mounted you on the couch. The woman’s got a libido the size of Kilauea, and I think her lava runs just as hot as the volcano’s.”
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br />   “Don’t remind me, McKenna.” Chance glared at me as he rested his hands on the tabletop. He had his fingers interlaced and his thumbs were making little circles around each other. Very seldom had I seen him fidget—especially this much. “Believe me, if there were any other way, I’d do it. In fact, you tell me if you see a way around this. Skye owns the company that produces Primal.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. Just because one of Skye’s products was used in a scam doesn’t mean she’s involved. You know how these guys work, they don’t ask permission, they just use the brand.”

  “Not my point, McKenna. In this case, it’s a matter of letting her know what’s going on. There has to be someone on the inside of her company who provided the formula. This isn’t just a case of some guy running a weak scam. This might be industrial espionage.”

  I raised my eyebrows and did my best to look skeptical. It must have worked because Chance huffed and glared at me. Whether he liked it or not, this didn’t make sense. “Grace told me the guy said he had a bottle, but she never saw it. Did the scammer actually have any of this Primal perfume? Did Grace even get a display kit? No. She got squat. And the guy emptied her bank account. There’s no industrial spy game here, buddy. It’s a simple case of someone letting the larceny in their heart take control.”

  “Deep, McKenna. Deep. It doesn’t matter whether this is a spy game or not, if Skye’s company is involved, she should know. I also think it would be good to contact this scammer and buy a kit.”

  With a chuckle, I crossed my arms and doubled down on my skeptic’s face. “Congratulations, you’re going to be a perfume salesman. Good luck with that line of work.”

  “Ha, ha. Think about this for a second, McKenna. Primal isn’t even on the market yet. How did a scammer get a bottle if it hasn’t been distributed? What if this scam started because there was a leak in Skye’s company?”

  “We don’t even know if there was a bottle.”

  “Industrial espionage happens all the time.”

  “Chance, don’t blow this whole thing out of proportion just because you want a big case.”

  “I’ve done some research this morning, made a few phone calls. I’ve been over this a million times in my head. The only thing that makes sense is that the guy had an accomplice on the inside. How did he even know what to say about the perfume unless he’s got a connection?”

  As much as I wanted to deny Chance’s theory, he was close to convincing me he was onto something big. I slumped back in my chair and gazed around my small apartment. Soon, this would be a home for two. Or I’d be moving to the Big Island. This could be my last opportunity to work with Chance, and that might be coloring my own reasoning.

  “You realize how crazy this sounds, yah?” I said.

  “Is it? You’ve told me stories about people you tracked down. A lot of those were weirder than this.”

  “All right. Maybe I just don’t want you having to go back to that barracuda alone.”

  “That’s why I want you to go with me. Will you do it? We can clear this whole mess up in one visit. If I’m wrong, we’ll all go out for a nice dinner someplace obscenely expensive.”

  “And if you’re right?”

  He shrugged. “We’ll go anyway.”

  Listen to your heart. Follow your dreams. Blah, blah, blah. Maybe it was time to see how much Benni truly believed in all that mumbo-jumbo. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but you have to explain where I’m going to Benni.”

  Chance groaned and planted his elbow on the table with his forehead resting on his palm. “I have to explain it to Lexie. You have to deal with Benni.”

  I snickered. “Okay, but telling your girlfriend you need to visit a man-eater like Skye Pilkington-Winchester ought to be loads of fun.”

  “I’ll make you a deal, McKenna. You don’t tell Benni and I won’t tell Lexie.”

  “You’re a bigger chicken than I thought you were.”

  “It’s just a quick in-and-out.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and held up a hand. “Don’t say a word.”

  “Who me?” I placed my palm on my chest and did my best to look innocent.

  “I’ll break your face, McKenna.”

  I lowered my hand from my chest and dropped the pretense. “Fine. No worries. What did you have in mind?”

  “We go see Skye, talk for a few minutes, and then we leave. We never tell the girls.”

  “Do you really think we can do this without screwing it up? And once they find out we lied about it, you know what will happen.”

  Chance fingered his lower lip, seeming to ponder the odds of pulling off his proposed subterfuge. After what felt like an eternity, his cheeks screwed up in resignation. “Okay, we have to tell them. But maybe we could say we went to Skye’s office?”

  “Too easy. Besides, how can I lie to Benni after she’s been so honest with me? We have to suck it up, Chance. If you think Skye has answers, let’s go see her. But the office, that’s a great idea. It means we won’t have to cover our tracks and if we tell the girls about this right up front, they’ll understand.”

  “Seems reasonable,” he said, his voice pinched and tentative.

  “You don’t sound convinced.” But as I watched him, I got it. “You’re afraid Lexie will want to go along.”

  Chance threw up his hands and shook his head. “I never said that.”

  “Oh, please. Give me a break, Chance. I know you. And you’re concerned Lexie’s going to want to tag along. I’ll bet she’d volunteer to go work undercover in Skye’s company. Oh wait, that’s it! You’re afraid you’ve got another partner,” I chuckled. “Oh, yeah, you’re worried she’ll find something you won’t.”

  “Stop, McKenna! Okay, yes, I am afraid she’ll want to be involved. She’s been asking me if I need any help. I’ve been putting her off, but if I don’t take her along her feelings will be hurt.”

  “Don’t you think it will hurt her more if you keep her out and lie about it? Why don’t you want her involved?”

  His shoulders heaved up and down. Then, in typical Chance fashion, he perked up. “You’re right. For a minute there I was becoming my dad. Selective disclosure. Wow. Thanks for stopping me on that path. Okay, when can we go?”

  “Right after you call Lexie.”

  “And after you tell Benni.”

  I hate it when somebody throws your own logic back at you. “Yeah, right after that.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The Art of War by Sun Tzu was a resource I’d referred to many times over the years. I’d kept my old yellowed copy since the mid-seventies when, during my first day on the job, my new boss had approached my desk in his usual manic gait. He dropped the copy on my desk and fixed me with his all-occasion intense stare.

  I could still see him, this little fireplug of a man, standing there before me. “Read it. Learn it. Never forget it,” he growled. With that, he stalked away, leaving me to wonder what had just happened.

  My reading began that night. I pushed through the short, but very detailed, book in less than a week. Then I reread it. And then again. How many times I reread that book over the years, I had no idea. However, one of the lessons I’d learned was how important venue is to the success of a negotiation. Do you want to have the upper hand and make your opponent feel powerless? The venue could also be used to give the appearance of equality and still deliver a decisive victory at the moment least expected.

  With those lessons in mind, today’s negotiation was all about equality. Neither Chance nor I wanted to make the opposition feel the least bit intimidated or overwhelmed. And yet, we had no choice. This was a must-win situation, so we debated our “full disclosure” options for Benni and Lexie. After running through a dozen scenarios, we decided on lunch.

  It was an ideal tropical setting with the surf only footsteps away, a bar where we could order plenty of alcohol if it became necessary, and very public. Everything was perfect for making this meeting productive, friendly, and avoiding any misperceptions.

 
“Duke’s Waikīkī it is. Yah?” I held Chance’s gaze.

  He nodded. Held out his hand. We shook. Done deal.

  “Jeez,” I said. “You’d think we were planning a nation’s surrender after a bloody war.”

  Chance grimaced. “I know. And we’ll be the casualties if this fails.” He paused, then quickly added, “McKenna, tell me something. Are you afraid of letting Benni down?”

  My tongue felt like it was stuck in my throat. I swallowed a couple of times, but the words, too, were stuck. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but I was repeating a lifelong behavior pattern—throw up the defenses when someone got close. Finally, I cleared my throat.

  “The plan won’t fail, Chance.”

  He eyed me for a moment, nodded, then winked. “It better not.”

  “Look, buddy, we want to give the right impression. And, to be honest, there’s not a lot of room for negotiation.”

  He eyed me. Obviously, I wasn’t making my point.

  “Okay, let’s try a different approach. We want to bring them into the loop under the umbrella of full disclosure.”

  “Shut up, McKenna. You’re making things worse.”

  McKenna’s Skip Tracing Secret Number One was to be flexible and go with the flow. The bottom line was I didn’t need to win this debate; it was the other one that mattered. “Got it. High noon it is.”

  We shook hands again. Sheesh. What a couple of big chickens. We were meeting with our girlfriends, not some vicious warlords.

  At noon, we all sat down for lunch. Chance had arranged for a table that overlooked the water—not terribly hard to get at Duke’s. Our server had spotted us and was making her approach. She had reddish-blonde hair worn long down the back, a sunny smile, and the look of someone new to the restaurant business.

  “Hi, my name’s Mandy,” she said. “I’ll be your server today. What can I get ya’ll to drink?”

  I raised my hand. All eyes turned in my direction. I hated this part, but it was a necessary evil. “Mandy, I have Celiac disease, which means I must have a gluten-free meal.”