We agreed and she gave us an impromptu bracelet-making session on the spot.
“Is it normal for people to live on their boats here?” I asked as I twisted my piece of rope.
“A few do. Most don’t. Kai lived on his boat for years before settling down.” Nalani paused to show us the next step.
Maya’s phone suddenly buzzed and she stepped away to answer the call.
As she did, Nalani got a faraway look in her eyes as she remembered something. “I once knew a family who spent a couple years out at sea, coming back to land to find odd jobs so they could continue to survive. They’d work a few months, then keep on sailing. They stopped when their daughter grew older because they wanted a more stable environment for her.”
She snapped out of it when Maya returned. Maya’s forehead puckered as she said, “Henry says that Bentley was strangled with wire, not rope. Apparently the rope was placed around his neck after he was already dead.”
“Why cover up the real murder weapon?” I asked.
“To not get caught for the murder,” said Maya grimly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maya and I parted ways for lunch, so she could on check something at Sandy Turtle. I took the opportunity to make sure Blue Hawaii was cleaned up from last night’s event. As I was finishing up with taking down the last of the streamers, Maya burst into the bar, her hair astray and her steps urgent.
“Micah never stepped foot in my hotel,” said Maya breathlessly.
I stopped so she could catch her breath. “How would you know that?”
Maya waved her hand. “I checked all the security tapes. Micah never came in.”
I stared at her. “You checked the tapes for the past couple days? Or from when Sandy Turtle opened?”
Maya didn’t make eye contact.
“Maya?”
She threw her hands up. “I sped up the tapes. It’s not like I was watching them in real time.”
“That would be impossible to go through like that,” I said. “Almost as impossible—definitely as insane—as going through every day recorded since your hotel opened.”
Maya looked at me, a wry smile popping up on her face. “I had a team going through them. I didn’t do it all by myself.”
I put a hand to my heart. “Next time open with that.”
Grinning, Maya said, “But where’s the fun in that? Anyway, unless Micah found a way to sneak in undetected, he’s never been in Sandy Turtle.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why is that important? He lives on the island. He doesn’t need to stay at a hotel.”
“The knife set that we saw in his house? I recognized a symbol on the wooden block. It’s a brand that Sandy Turtle uses. The same circular spiral symbol is on all our silverware. I talked to one of the chefs and she said that it’s special ordered. It’s not available for the general public,” said Maya.
“You think Micah stole it from your hotel?”
“Not exactly. When we first opened, we had some extra knife and utensil sets that we gave away in raffles. That’s one of the knife sets that we gave away, I’m sure of it.”
I nodded. “So Micah must have been a guest at Sandy Turtle during its grand opening to have his knives.”
“Precisely.” Maya frowned. “But he wasn’t. There’s no record of him and I didn’t see him on the cameras. How did those knives end up in his possession?”
I sighed. “I’m still not convinced that it matters. Bentley was killed with a noose, not stabbed.”
“Micah could have used the knife to coerce Bentley into cooperating and then accidentally dropped it in the sand.”
I tilted my head. Maya had a point. “Let’s ask Landon,” I said. “He probably knows where you could get those knives. Maybe that would lead us to a clue.”
Maya hesitated. “No, I think we should talk to a chef at Sandy Turtle. Someone we know we can trust.”
“What?” I was stung by her words. “You don’t trust Landon?”
“I want to talk to you about that.” Maya turned serious. “What do we know about Landon? We’ve known him a very short amount of time and he was with you when you found the body.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you trying to say?”
Maya shrugged. “I told you that you looked like a prime suspect. Why aren’t we investigating Landon? He looks as suspicious as you do. I know you didn’t do it, but I can’t say the same for him.”
“No. No way,” I protested. “He was just as shocked as I was when we found the body. And why would Landon stick around if he killed Bentley? It doesn’t make sense.”
Maya appeared uncomfortable. “What if you caught him in the act? Did you first spot Bentley or did Landon?”
“I did,” I said. “Landon and I were talking about the stars. I was pointing out a constellation to him. He wasn’t acting like he’d just killed a man.”
“Well, he wouldn’t if he didn’t want to be caught. And he got you focusing on the stars, away from the ocean. Maybe Landon was hoping you wouldn’t notice Bentley floating in the water. It was night. It was dark and there was a good chance you wouldn’t be going for a swim. As long as you kept looking at the sky, you wouldn’t be looking at the evidence of his terrible crime.”
I rubbed my head. “Landon doesn’t seem murderous. I can’t picture him killing a person.”
Maya sighed. “I like Landon. I don’t want to believe my theory, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t point it out to you. Can you really understand someone’s intentions after knowing them for days instead of years or maybe months?”
“I have a good feeling about Landon,” I insisted.
“Feelings aren’t facts,” said Maya.
I snapped my fingers. “His clothes were dry. Shouldn’t a guy who supposedly had dumped a corpse in the ocean be a little wet?”
“It was dark. How can you be certain he was fully dry?” asked Maya.
My face fell. “I guess I can’t be.”
“We followed up your hunch about Evan—which turned up nothing—so, now let’s test my theory,” said Maya.
“All right.” I couldn’t disagree with that logic—except for the part about Evan. “I’m still not convinced that Evan’s fully innocent.”
“What would he be hiding?” scoffed Maya.
“What would Landon be hiding?” I countered. “You saw him last night. He’s been nothing but helpful.”
“That’s a good way to make you believe he’s innocent,” said Maya.
I didn’t want to believe what she was saying. There was no proof of Landon having ulterior motives. Clare had confirmed his alibi!
“Clare Tran said he was on the phone with her when the murder occurred,” I said.
“What if they’re in on it together?” Maya promptly asked.
“No. This is too much. That sounds like a conspiracy theory!” I exclaimed.
“Have you ever solved a murder before?” Maya demanded. “How do you know what’s plausible and what isn’t?”
“How do you know?”
Maya was quiet for a couple seconds. “I think we should keep it in the back of our minds, even if you don’t want to actively look into it.”
“Fine,” I snapped.
Without further discussion, Maya led the way to Sandy Turtle’s head chef, so we could get some answers. Maya had previously confirmed with Julie that the knives had come from the hotel, but hadn’t asked where they had been purchased from.
Sandy Turtle’s kitchen was crowded, hot, and full of energy. Chefs were chopping vegetables, simmering sauces, and cooking meat.
Julie was pouring a pineapple glaze over chicken when we went over to her.
“Back so soon?” she asked Maya. “Talk fast. The lunch rush is starting.”
“We wanted to know where to get access to the knives and such,” said Maya.
Julie placed a pineapple ring on top of the chicken and started on her next dish. “It’s through Stars of the Kitchen. They’re very
customer-oriented. They send a representative every so often so I can reorder in person. They do that so they can get honest feedback and to see their product in action. Clare Tran was here just yesterday, actually.”
Clare Tran? I glanced at Maya, who gracefully kept her face blank and free of any indication that she was thinking of her previous theory.
Clare couldn’t be involved in this. It didn’t make sense.
“She’s probably still on the island. I’ll give you her phone number and you can ask her these silly questions. Now, if you’re done, I’ve got people to feed,” said Julie with finality.
I got in contact with Clare right away, who said she was in her room and would come down immediately. Maya and I departed the busy kitchen and was on our way to talk to Clare within minutes.
True to her word, Clare was waiting for us in the lobby, her nose deep into her phone as she read an email. Upon seeing us, she leapt up, her hand outstretched.
“Alana, good seeing you again. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Maya,” said Clare. “You wanted to ask about knives? I know about knives. I sell the best ones on the island, there’s no doubt about that.”
“What about the ones you sold to Sandy Turtle? The ones with the circular pattern on them?” asked Maya.
Clare raised her eyebrows. “Those were a limited edition, made special for the grand opening. It was an experimental batch, but an effective one. The design didn’t catch on as we had hoped, but they made a wonderful limited release.”
“Could one of those knives have come from somewhere other than Sandy Turtle?” I asked.
“Yes, a few went to local businesses, some were given away on a radio show, and some others were sold online,” said Clare.
My stomach sank. That widened our search considerably. “Do you have a list to everyone you sold them to?”
“I do,” said Clare. “That list is confidential, though. I don’t give it away to just anyone—no matter how good your intentions are.”
We wrapped up the conversation soon after. Clare had no other information for us and was immediately immersed in her emails as she headed back to her room.
“I’ll tell Henry about Clare. He’ll have more luck getting the information from her,” said Maya as we left the hotel lobby.
“We’re no closer than we were before,” I said, disappointed.
“Micah could have gotten his knife set from anywhere,” said Maya. “But that doesn’t mean that he didn’t use the bread knife to threaten Bentley before killing him. I think the missing knife is a huge piece of evidence. I’ll alert Henry to that, as well.”
“It can’t be evidence until we find out if the missing knife and the knife found on the beach are the same,” I said.
“But, once that is proven, we’ll have found our killer,” said Maya confidently.
I wasn’t so sure. “We’ll have found someone who didn’t like Bentley—enough to threaten him with a knife—but that doesn’t prove anything past that.”
“My money’s on Micah.” Maya smoothed her blouse. “Mark my words, he’ll come out and confess as soon as he realizes that it’s only a matter of time before we connect him to the murder.”
I cringed at the words “my money’s on Micah.” I’d had enough risky behavior with my finances to know that nothing worked according to plan. At least, not when you’re betting on a fickle loan shark to keep his word. Micah would have known that.
Maya’s plan for catching Bentley’s murderer was precise, neat, and orderly—with a dash of hopefulness.
She didn’t know how Bentley operated like I did. Bentley was unpredictable, rash, and took chances. I couldn’t see his killer being able to cause his demise by following a neatly-ordered plan.
It was probably more of an intense miscommunication, with raging tempers and harsh actions.
Micah Robinson was known for having a temper. I agreed with Maya that Micah could have done it—just not in the way that she thought. If Micah murdered Bentley, it wasn’t through a well thought-out scheme.
It would have been a spur-of-the-moment reaction.
I shivered. Questioning Micah could prove to be dangerous. What if he turned on us? What if he decided that Maya and I were as useless to him as Bentley had been?
And what if Micah hadn’t been involved at all? Why was he missing a bread knife?
I wanted answers and nothing was going to stop me from getting them.
Not even the thought of going after a manic ex-baseball player.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The second and final pirate contest was scheduled for the afternoon. I wanted to spend the rest of the day investigating Micah, but attempting to win enough money to cover my debt took precedence.
I had no idea what the contest was going to be about. Madison had given me the location and refused to say anything more. She had claimed that it would be a surprise for everyone involved.
I felt like I was being hoodwinked until Maya, Landon, and I showed up on time. The pirates from last night were all prompt as well, and no one knew what was going on.
I glanced at the place before me. Madison had sent us to Diamond Head’s entrance. I’d hiked the crater years ago and remembered seeing spectacular views. If I didn’t win this mysterious contest, then at least I’d have a fantastic adventure before going bankrupt.
Tourists passed us in flip flops and sandals as everyone speculated what could be happening.
“It’s a race to the top!” one pirate insisted, much to my dismay. I wasn’t the fastest runner and sprinting up steps wasn’t my idea of fun.
Shawn came by, passing out rubber hook hands to every pirate. “Don’t put it on or look inside,” he warned. “You’ll compromise the contest if you do. Madison will let you know when you can.”
“Are you judging this event, too?” I asked.
“Nah.” Shawn shook his head. “The judges are switched up every time. I’m here to compete!”
Shawn was slightly more focused today than he had been at the party. His dreamy spirit, however, was still in full force.
Without his robe and sash, he was dressed normally. He wore shorts and a t-shirt, with a skeleton pirate image depicted on the shirt.
“Are most of your friends from the same college?” I asked, looking around at the contestants dressed like pirates.
“No, we’re from all over. It’s our love of pirates that brings us together,” said Shawn. “This is Hawaii’s first annual pirate convention—organized by Madison, at least. I think most conventions stick to staying inside buildings and whatnot, but Madison’s a visionary. She brings the pirates to the streets.”
Shawn glanced at the ground. “Or to the volcanoes, I guess.”
“How long have you known Madison?” I asked.
“My friend, Aaliyah, is friends with her. Aaliyah told me all about the convention and I just had to attend.” Shawn’s eyes lit up. “How often do you get to spend your last few weeks of freedom saying things like ‘matey’ and ‘avast’?”
Shawn cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the distance. “FREEDOM!”
He moved on to distribute the rest of the hands. As I gazed at the sea of pirates, I recognized another familiar face. Natasha Silva, the front desk agent, was standing by herself. She appeared determined and prepared as she applied sunscreen on her face.
“I didn’t realize you were into pirate-themed events,” I greeted her.
“With a prize like ten thousand dollars? There’s no way I’m not spending my day off here. My friend is watching my daughter for the day and I’m ready to give this contest my best shot.” Natasha rubbed her hands together, tossing the sunscreen in her backpack. She lowered her dark sunglasses as Madison came into view.
Madison Walker arrived with a bucket full of extra hook hands. “Grab one if you haven’t already,” she called out. When everyone was prepared, she clasped her hands together. “Avast. Today’s contest—the second and final one—will be a test of strength, wills,
and greed.” Her smile broadened. “This is a treasure hunt.”
The contestants broke into excited chatter.
“It’ll definitely end in a race to the top,” said the likes-running-way-too-much pirate.
“Hold on! Let me explain the rules,” Madison said loudly. When everyone quieted, she continued, “There is a treasure chest hidden somewhere on the island. The first person to find the treasure wins.”
“Somewhere on the island?” Maya muttered. “We could be here all week.”
“Unless she’s trying to throw us off guard,” said Landon.
“You’ll find the first clue inside the hook hand. Let the contest begin!” Madison shouted.
I dug my hand into the opening of the hook hand and retrieved a piece of paper taped to the inside. I read it out loud, to a chorus of everyone around me doing the same.
“Get your teeth cleaned.”
Maya looked blankly at me as Landon listened to the other contestants, trying to pick up an idea from them.
“I thought it would be a race to the top,” said a pirate disappointedly.
“All right, who made these clues? Shawn? Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with the treasure hunt?” I asked.
Shawn shook his head. “All I did was pass out the hook hands Madison gave me.”
I glanced around the group. No one seemed to have any inkling of what the message meant.
“We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t supposed to climb to the top,” I said. “Let’s get started and see if any clues pop out at us along the way.”
“Clues don’t just pop out at you,” Maya muttered. “You have to find them yourself.”
We followed the path as most of the pirates spent a few more minutes pondering the message. A few of them left at the same time we did, Shawn and Natasha among them.
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