Mai Tais and Murder

by J. C. Long

  “Good. Me too. I mean, that’s also how I feel. How old are you?”

  Maka chuckled. “How old do you think I am?”

  “I feel like this is a trap…”

  “I’m thirty-two.”

  “Oh, okay. Yeah, younger than I thought—ow!” I rubbed my arm where Maka playfully slapped me. Even being playful, his blows had some sting behind them. I reminded myself to be careful if I decided to wrestle him. “So you’re taking me home, what then?”

  Maka thought for a moment. “Actually, lunch first, and then I take you home. Then I meet up with Benet to see what progress he’s made and if we can piece this damn case together.”

  “Okay, what’s for lunch?” I asked, stomach letting out a little growl of anticipation. Until Maka mentioned food, I hadn’t really been hungry; now, though, I was starving. “A burger sounds really good right about now.”

  “A burger?” Maka scoffed. “You’re riding with a real Hawai’ian now, brah. I’m going to show you the best this island has to offer. I bet you’ve never had laulau, huh?”

  “Laulau? What’s that?”

  Maka grinned. “You’ll see.”

  “You know, you have this annoying habit of not answering questions. It’s annoying.”

  “Why spoil the surprise?”

  “Some people don’t like surprises,” I pointed out. “And I am one of them.”

  Maka patted my hand, each brief contact sending tendrils of excitement right to my cock. “Keep spending time with me. We’ll get you used to it.”

  I very much liked the idea of getting used to it, but I wouldn’t tell him that, at least not yet. That would come later. Maybe much later.

  As he drove, it soon became apparent we were heading toward the beach, and my interest was piqued. “Let me guess,” I said, to fill the silence, “this lulu has something to do with seafood?”

  “It’s laulau. And what makes you say that?”

  “We’re going to the beach.”

  Maka gave me an impressed nod. “You know, you actually do make a good detective. Yes, there is fish in it.”

  I tried not to show it, but I’m pretty sure I was glowing from the compliment.

  It was just after eleven on a Sunday, so the beach was packed. Maka spent a solid five minutes looking for a parking space, but we finally found one. I was surprised when Maka cut the car off and got out. I looked around, but saw no sign of a restaurant.

  “Okay, are we catching this laulau ourselves?” I asked as I got out of the car.

  “Laulau isn’t the name of a fish; it’s a dish. I don’t think we have the time to catch our meal ourselves. I could, though. Just throwing that out there.”

  I looked him over and grunted. “I just bet you could. If we’re not catching it, where are we getting it?”

  “Right over there.” Maka pointed away from the beach, toward the back of the parking lot and a big yellow food truck I hadn’t noticed before. “This guy makes the best laulau on any of the islands.”

  Once we were closer, I could read the truck: Big Eddie’s Hawai’ian Plate Lunches. Whoever this Big Eddie guy was, his food was definitely popular. A line of at least fifteen people stretched from the truck, and it wasn’t even officially lunchtime. “Judging by the size of the line, you’re not the only one who thinks so.”

  “Don’t worry, the line will move fast,” Maka assured me. “Tell me, Gabe, are you a cat man or a dog man?”

  The sudden personal question caught me off guard for a moment. “What?”

  “Well, considering this morning…” He waggled his eyebrows to make sure I knew what part of the morning he was referencing. “I figured it would be good to learn a few things about each other. Myself, I’m a dog man.”

  “Me too. I had a Great Dane when I was a kid. Named him Marmaduke—real original, I know, but I loved him. He was the best thing about my family.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, so naturally Maka zeroed in on them.

  “You don’t get along with your family?”

  I shrugged, trying to keep my voice as nonchalant as I could. “I got along with my grandfather when he was alive, but other than that, no. My father is an entitled ass who never did anything for himself his entire life. He basically lived off my grandfather’s name and expected that to carry him. My mother is possibly the least maternal person to ever bear children. I don’t know what I was to her, but my theory is just a way to secure my grandfather’s continued affection. My parents gave him a grandson, and he rewarded them by not writing them off completely.”

  “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” Maka reached the window, turning his attention to the scrawny Hawaiian man inside of it. He had a push-broom mustache and watery eyes and had to be close to my father’s age. He had a big, booming voice, though, despite his apparent frailty.

  “Maka Kekoa! Howzit? Been too long since I seen you, brah!”

  “Big Eddie! You lookin’ good as always, cuz! Howzit? Business boomin’, yeah?” The sudden change in Maka’s demeanor and words surprised me. He could slip so easily between professional and colloquial. It made me wonder more about his upbringing. I saw his point in asking questions.

  “Who’s the haole, cuz?” Big Eddie asked, drawing my attention back to their conversation.

  “Big Eddie, this is my friend Gabe. Gabe, this is Big Eddie.”

  “Aloha,” I said. “You’re ‘Big Eddie,’ huh?”

  “I’m a fan of irony,” he replied with a deep belly laugh. “What can I get you two?”

  “Two laulau,” Maka ordered.

  “Comin’ right up!”

  “When was the last time you saw your family?” Maka asked, as if our conversation had never paused.

  “The day I left for college. Never went back home, not once.”

  Maka let out a low whistle. “Damn, man. What did they do to make you hate them so much?”

  “Oh, you mean aside from a neglectful childhood where I was treated with the utmost indifference? When my grandfather died, I was sixteen. Knowing how my parents were, my grandfather set up my inheritance so they had no way of touching it—no legal access whatsoever. After he died, they tried to trick me into letting them have my money. When I wouldn’t do it, they spent the next two years of my life making me feel guilty, making it known that if I didn’t give them the money I was a terrible son and they wanted nothing to do with me. So as soon as I was able, I gave them their wish. They never need to have anything to do with me now.”

  “That’s rough.” Maka gave me a sympathetic shoulder squeeze just as Big Eddie leaned out of the window of the truck, carrying two Styrofoam food containers.

  “Two laulau, like you asked,” he said in his normal big voice. Then, in a lower, more conversational voice, he added, “Friend, huh? Not just any kind, though, right?” He winked at Maka. “You always did like those haole, boy.”

  “Mahalo,” Maka said, holding up his Styrofoam container in thanks before strolling away back toward the car.

  “Where are you going?” I asked. “You didn’t pay!”

  “It’s all good. Now let’s eat before it gets cold.”

  I jogged to catch up with him, cursing his long strides. “So, you like us haole guys, huh?”

  “Yup,” he said without missing a beat. “I guess I just like seeing those pale white asses spread wide around my dark cock.”

  Just like that, I was throbbing hard. “Yeah,” I said faintly, “I bet that looks hot.”

  “Oh yeah. Why don’t I make a video next time, and you can see for yourself?” He laughed at my look, hand very casually and discreetly brushing the front of my shorts. “Someone likes that idea, I see.”

  When we reached the car, we didn’t get in, instead moving around to sit on the hood. “I present to you, laulau,” he said triumphantly, opening his container, and I did the same. At first, it was hard for me to make sense of what I was seeing. Its smell was amazing, and it looked like pure goodness. I could see a tender strip of meat r
esting atop chunks of fish of some sort mixed with something resembling spinach, all nested inside a big leaf.

  “Beef, butterfish, and taro leaves,” Maka explained. “That’s a ti leaf it’s wrapped in. Eat it like a sandwich.” He demonstrated by picking his up and eating about half of it in one bite. Shrugging, I picked up my own and took a bite, groaning in culinary heaven as soon as the wonderful taste hit my tongue. It was tender and salty and absolutely perfect, the meat and cooked taro leaves providing the best contrast of tastes and textures.

  “Good, right?” Maka spoke through his second—and final—mouthful.

  I grunted and nodded my agreement, not wanting to take any time away from chewing. Considering how amazing the food was, Hawaiian people must not make much time for conversation during dinner.

  As I ate, I stared out at the beautiful Pacific, its glistening waves crashing against the sandy beach before pulling back. “God, the beach is beautiful,” I said, using one of the cheap napkins to wipe my mouth.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but there are beaches in Seattle, right?”

  “There are, but they’re different. Colder, kind of bleak. Good for a moody atmosphere. Not so great for seeing hunky guys out on the beach.”

  Maka faked a scowl. “You looking to eye some hunky guys on the beach, huh?”

  “Not any guy in particular, no,” I said, nudging him with my shoulder. “But it’s nice to know that I have the option to do so, should the fancy strike me.”

  “How about I give you something different to eye when the fancy strikes you?” Maka suggested, his hand resting teasingly on my thigh.

  “That might work.” I slid my hand over the back of his.

  Maka took my hand and pulled it over to his own lap, turning it so my palm was downward. My breath hitched when he dragged my hand right over his rapidly stiffening cock. I glanced around to see if anyone was looking, but the few people in the parking lot were in their own little world.

  “I know a great place on the beach at night,” Maka said, voice casual, like we were still discussing something trivial, like he wasn’t slowly grinding himself up against my hand, his cock now completely stiff. I knew if I pulled my hand away, his cock would be perfectly outlined by the tight material of his pants. “It isn’t a place tourists go, and most locals don’t go there at night. Far away from the lights of the city, there’s no concern about anyone seeing anything.”

  At the word anything, Maka placed his own hands over my now aching cock, a devilish half smile on his face.

  “Anything, huh?” I asked, knowing I sounded breathy. I just couldn’t force my lungs to act normal in this situation, couldn’t be nonchalant with his strong fingers slowly and carefully kneading the length of my shaft through my shorts. It didn’t help that his words reminded me of the dream I’d had of him. The opportunity to make that a reality…

  Maka’s phone rang, then, interrupting us. “Fuck. I need to take this. Give me a minute.”

  I watched him stride a few car lengths away, discreetly adjusting himself so his erection wasn’t quite so obvious. I took great pleasure watching his body move, the way his muscles coiled and uncoiled with each motion. I wouldn’t have described it as catlike; though he bore a certain grace, it wasn’t feline. I didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t that.

  “Sorry about that,” Maka said, rejoining me. “You finished with lunch? I hate to cut it short, but work awaits.”

  “All finished,” I said, showing him my now empty lunch container. “And definitely worth the drive. I’ll have to start being a frequent visitor of Big Eddie’s.”

  We disposed of our containers in the garbage can set up back by Big Eddie’s food truck and then returned to the car. Maka rolled down the windows and turned up the volume of the music as we reached the highway, singing loudly to a female singer who I didn’t know.

  “What?” he said, seeing my quizzical look. “You don’t know Ariana Grande? Where the hell have you been?” He sang even louder, swaying left and right in his seat, even throwing in little finger snaps.

  “You are so weird,” I laughed.

  “You know you like it. You want some of this, don’t you?” He danced to the music in his seat, looking absolutely ridiculous.

  I just shook my head, trying my best to smother the laughter. Just when I think I’m starting to figure him out, something else comes up.

  “Since we’re asking questions, I have one,” I said. “The first day we met—when you helped me with the movers—after you left, the one you called Pako told me to be careful of you. Said you…god, what was it? You stay with the mad temper.” Maka burst out laughing at that. “What? What the hell does it mean?”

  “Just what it sounds like. Means I have a bad temper.”

  I tried to picture Maka with a bad temper. “I don’t see it. What did you do to Pako to give him that impression?”

  “Broke his nose arresting him,” Maka said bluntly. “He tried to fight back, so I subdued him, and his nose got in the way. After he socked me in the jaw,” he added quickly. “It didn’t just come from nowhere, but I can see how he’d get that impression.”

  I blinked. “Wait, you’re telling me the people who delivered my boxes were criminals?”

  Maka snorted. “Just Pako. And nothing like theft or anything like that. Your things are safe, unless you had some weed in your boxes—in which case, it would be better not to tell me.”

  I wanted to make some kind of cute, flippant comment, but my phone vibrated loudly in my pocket before I could get the words together, making me jump. I nearly dropped the damn thing when I saw Grace on the caller ID. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I glanced at Maka, who had a small smile on his face, and realized he knew. That would explain the phone call five minutes ago.

  “Hello?” I answered, still not looking away from Maka’s face. Yet another one of his surprises. I wondered what it would take to hammer home the point that I didn’t like surprises. “Grace, is that you?”

  “Who the hell else would it be?” Grace quipped. I saw jail did nothing to dull the edge of her acerbic tongue. “They set me free. I have been exonerated and ruled out as a suspect thanks to the official time of death, and the client with all the dogs dumping in her yard was able to corroborate my whereabouts. I’m a free woman.”

  “I’ll come get you,” I said quickly, my happiness overcoming anything I was feeling toward Maka at that moment. “I’m almost back to my place. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

  “No, no, don’t. I don’t want to wait around for you to get here. I’ve spent enough time here already. I’ll catch a taxi. Do you still have that film roll?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I know how to develop them. Bring the film and meet me at the address I’m going to send you in a text message. We can see what was so special Carrie had to die for it.”

  I wanted to tell Grace to slow down, that she was just getting out of jail, so she should take some time before jumping into this head first. When I thought about it, though, I could understand. Carrie was her coworker, and she’d been falsely accused of killing her. If I were in her shoes, I’d want to find out who was behind it as quickly as I could, screw taking time.

  “Okay, see you there.” Shortly after the call ended, I got the text message.

  “Not off to do anything dangerous, are you?” Maka asked, concern in his voice. “Not breaking into any more houses?”

  “Nothing like that, unfortunately.” Instinct kicked in and I reached over, taking Maka’s hand. The touch surprised him for a moment and then he intertwined our fingers, his thumb caressing the back of my hand gently. “Grace is going to develop the film we found. Maybe that will help fill in any blanks you and Benet come up with.”

  “We can’t use the photos,” Maka reminded me. “Fruit of the poisoned tree.”

  “I know the law. You know where they came from, but Benet doesn’t, and I can get them to him in a way that keeps any pesky questions from coming up. Like dropp
ing them off anonymously in the mail to be delivered to the police station.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Maka said, turning the car into the parking lot in front of our condos. “We don’t even know that the photos will be useful. Develop them and then we’ll figure out what to do about it from there.”

  I made to get out of the car, but Maka caught my wrist. I looked back to see what he needed and he captured my mouth in a kiss that made my legs go limp. His tongue teased gently at my own, but it wasn’t sexual or erotic—instead, passionate and sweet. It was, without a doubt, the perfect kiss.

  “Wow,” I said when our lips parted, unable to form better words for a moment.

  “Be careful, and call me with updates, okay?”

  “Okay.” Even though all I really wanted to do right then was keep kissing Maka, I reminded myself that Grace was counting on me.

  Maka let me into his apartment to collect my car keys and the film roll, and then I was on my way to meet Grace. Thanks to all the traveling I had been doing the last several days, I was getting to know the city pretty well. I didn’t get lost once finding the building Grace referred me to. It looked to be a hobby shop dedicated to photography, a sign indicating that they had a darkroom.

  The inside of the shop was lined with shelves of cameras, lenses, albums, and special printer paper. I didn’t see any sign of an employee behind the counter. When I looked around, I didn’t see anyone, either, but I did see a sign indicating that the darkroom was downstairs. Nothing said I needed permission to use it, so I followed the area and made my way down a set of creepy stairs that ended at a door with a red light next to it, currently off.

  I walked inside the darkroom and to find a small rectangular space devoid of windows. Directly opposite me was a long row of tables, and on either side of those tables was a metal shelf lined with chemicals and materials needed for photo development, things I could make neither hide nor hair of.

  On the wall just outside the door was a light switch panel with two switches. The upper switch turned on a single dirty yellow bulb. Light on, I stepped into the room proper, the heavy door swinging shut behind me. The noise of it made me jump, and I felt silly. It was just a door.