A tear formed in the corner of Carmen’s eye. Once again, perfect timing. Was her boyfriend just a flake? It was not a question I wanted to deal with on our little getaway. “Where’s the waitress?” I chirped. “I think we need another round.”
“McKenna!” Benni glared at me. Pointed at my glass. “You’ve barely touched your zin. What’s got into you?”
It would be bad form to tell her I suspected Carmen’s whole touchy-feely persona might be an act. Benni’s cousin reminded me of “my people”—and some of the killers I’d exposed. Finding those who had killed another was one thing, but I really resented it when they turned their sights on me. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t believe anyone should get away with murder.
“It’s okay.” Carmen wiped away the tear with a backwards swipe of her palm against her cheek. “I get it. He doesn’t want to be involved. I just thought…” Another tear left a lonely mascara-stained smear.
Really? Why did she have to play the I've-got-tears card? She’d have raccoon eyes next. I hated that. “I’m sorry, Carmen. I didn’t mean—never mind, what’s going on?”
A man who’d been knocking back drinks at the bar yelled obscenities at the overhead TV. Dodgers 4, Cardinals 5. He had to be a big Dodgers fan. Carmen glanced over her shoulder. Her grip on the chair tightened and when she turned back, her complexion was ashen.
“Someone you know?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. We don’t get many drunks. He just…surprised me.”
One part of her statement was true. The barstools were chrome and upholstered in red and reminded me of something straight out of an old diner. Between the price for a drink and the constant traffic from customers and servers, I could see how a guy couldn’t even get drunk in peace.
I twirled the stem of my glass. Might as well get this over with. “So what is it you’ve been wanting to ask us?”
Benni glared at me, probably for being so direct. She sighed and reached across the table to grasp Carmen’s hand. They gazed at each other. “We’re cousins, Carmen. It’s okay. We’ll help.” Benni fixed her gaze on me. “Right, McKenna?”
Got it. Message received. “Su cousin, mi cousin.”
No laughs, just two blank stares. “Okay, that didn’t work. It was supposed to be a takeoff on the Spanish thing, you know…”
More blank stares.
Uh-oh, once you had to explain the joke—how did I get in comedian purgatory? “I’m making things worse, aren’t I?”
Benni winked at me, then laughed. She kissed me on the cheek. “It’s one of the things I find most adorable about you. You have an uncanny ability to dig yourself into a hole. And then you just keep digging.”
“Check. I come with entertainment value. Glad to oblige, ma’am.” My cheeks flushed. I was about to do it again. I slipped into skip-tracer mode, the zone I’d operated in during my entire career. “So, Carmen, why do you think James isn’t here? Is there a problem?”
Carmen drained the last of her margarita and motioned to the waitress. Instead of getting an acknowledgment, the other girl turned away. Carmen swore under her breath. “Bitch. Filomena hates me.”
“What did you do to her?” Benni hissed.
“She’s jealous. She wanted James and he chose me. It’s not like him to blow things off. He’s really a good guy and always shows up on time. I haven’t heard from him in two days and that’s totally unusual. I wonder if you could maybe go talk to his landlady and ask what she knows.”
Benni did a double-take. She peered at Carmen with raised eyebrows. “I thought you two were living together.”
“We keep our spaces separate. You know how it is; we both work two jobs. Kinda still need our independence. It’s easier for now. He calls his landlady Hattie, but that’s all I know about her.”
“What’s his address?” Benni asked.
Carmen shrugged. “He just moved.”
This was about the strangest romance I’d ever heard of. How could she not know her boyfriend's address? Before I could ask, the drunk keeled over. Dropped like a stone. His chrome and red stool careened to the side and clattered onto the brown tiles at his feet. The woman sitting next to him pushed away and braced herself against the bar. Everyone stared down at the limp body. Gasps filled the air and the place fell silent. But nobody moved.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I muttered. Benni and I both hurried to the man’s side. I knelt and put one hand over his mouth.
“There’s no blood and he’s breathing. Looks like he just passed out.”
The bartender, a burly guy in a Rusty Pelican T-shirt showed up. He wore a gold cross on a chain around his neck and “DJ” printed on his name tag. Squatting next to me, he poked the guy’s chest. “You okay, brah?”
The drunk opened his eyes. They were glazed. His speech, slurred. “Yeah…sure.”
Wrong. He definitely wasn’t okay, but the restaurant probably wanted him gone.
I glanced at DJ. “You want help with him?”
The bartender glanced around. He frowned and then nodded. “Gimme a hand, brah.”
We hoisted the drunk to his feet. His head lolled to one side. He opened his eyes, blinked, and narrowed his gaze, staring past me.
I turned to see what he was so interested in.
Carmen.
“You!” he bellowed.
Carmen pushed through the crowd and rushed to the exit.
Gerry
The drunk lunged after Carmen and immediately slammed into DJ the Bartender—a more apt term might be DJ the Brick Wall. The smaller man caromed off the big dude’s chest, and we both grabbed him to keep him upright. DJ barked an order at a passing busboy who had been doing his best to avoid the whole mess. The kid stopped and stared at us for a moment, but when DJ glared at him, he set aside his tray and hurried over.
“We got dis, brah. Mahalo fo’ da help.” DJ motioned at me with his head to let go of the drunk’s arm. The kid moved closer. He must have gotten both messages—do this or else and drunks are our problem, not that of the customers—because he edged me aside and took the drunk’s arm. They guided the man to the exit. Carmen was still nowhere in sight.
Benni put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
“You think that’s where she is?”
“I hope so.”
The hum level in the restaurant had returned to a steady drone. Conversations resumed. Those on the street side watched the passing tourists and the sunset. Those on the interior side gazed out at the teal, red, and white painted courtyard below. A gentle breeze wafted through. A bank of overhead TV screens showed a hockey game, a basketball game, an interview with a tennis star, and some weird commercial about a scammy weight-loss product. Despite the ambience, I couldn’t get the drunk guy’s reaction out of my head.
Were my suspicions about Carmen correct? I wanted to know before this went any further. What was she was up to? Why did so many people hate her? I went in search of the drunk, determined to learn how he knew Carmen. The busboy passed me on his way back into the restaurant. Not far ahead, seated on a bench along the wall, sat the drunk with DJ towering over him.
When DJ saw me, he rolled his eyes. Shook his head. Grimaced. He heaved an impatient sigh and tapped the drunk on the shoulder. “Maybe you should take elevata’, brah.”
“I’ll see that he does,” I said.
“Not your problem.”
“I don’t mind. I want to ask him a question, anyway.”
“You a lawyer?”
I burst into laughter. “No way. No worries, I won’t encourage him to sue anybody. He did this on his own.”
The bartender eyed me for a moment, then pursed his lips and backed away, apparently accepting my status as a nonthreatening busybody. He made an excuse about having customers to deal with before leaving.
I sat on the bench next to the drunk. “What’s your name?”
“Gerry. Gerry Royce.”
“Why’d you get so upset wh
en you saw Carmen?”
He leaned sideways. Looked at me. Tried to focus. Couldn’t.
I waited. Finally, he spoke.
“She…ripped me off.”
“How’d she do that? She was nowhere near you.”
Gerry watched a couple stroll by, arm-in-arm. “I gotta go, man. This ain’t gonna do no good anyway.”
Nope. Wasn’t buying it. The people I chased had called me many different things—most unkind, some not repeatable—but, they all knew one thing: I did not give up easily. “C’mon, Gerry, you were really upset. How did she rip you off?”
Again, he did the sideways glance. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second. “You related to her?”
I winced. “Indirectly. She’s my girlfriend’s cousin.”
Gerry blinked hard and then stared at me. “You got a girlfriend. Old fart like you? Jesus. I’m doing something wrong.”
Uh, yeah. Maybe if he held an intelligent conversation with another person instead of getting blind drunk he’d have a shot. “This was a bad idea. You don’t sound like a guy who wants help.”
I stood and acted as though I were going to walk away. He went for the bait and grabbed the hem of my shorts.
“Her and that no-account boyfriend of hers stole everything. Bloodsuckers drained my bank accounts. Got my rent money. Ruined my credit.”
“Did you report this to the police?”
“Lahaina cops can’t do nothing to her.”
Now he had me intrigued. I sat next to him again. “Why? If you know what she did, you must have proof.”
“Nope.” Gerry’s head swiveled from side-to-side. “Nothing. Perfect crime.”
“Then how do you know she did it?”
“Because I know, man.” He glared at me. “Why am I telling you? You ain’t doing nothing. Leave me alone.”
“I’ve been there, Gerry. Had my identity stolen. But I didn’t go out and get drunk, I went after the crooks.” Uh-oh, bad thing to say. Inciting a war against one of their own must certainly be a big no-no in the Kapono family playbook. “Forget I said that.”
Two Lahaina cops came up the stairs. They walked toward us. Gerry lowered his head to his hands but watched them between splayed fingers. It was about the worst surveillance job I’d ever seen.
“Oh, man,” he muttered.
The two cops glanced over their shoulders at us and continued on to the Rusty Pelican.
“I gotta get outta here.” Gerry stood and staggered to the elevator. He jabbed the button a few times. When the elevator didn’t show up, he stumbled along the walkway toward the stairs. As I watched, he clutched the railing and moved, one foot to the next, slowly descending. He was drunk but steady enough that he didn’t appear to be in danger of falling.
DJ the Brick Wall appeared at the entrance and spoke to the cops. Judging by the head bobbing and the initial fist bumps, these guys knew each other well. They probably all surfed together. Lahaina was, after all, a small town—for kamaʻāina, those who were born here. And someone like Gerry didn’t stand much of a chance against the small-town machinery. Why not give him a head start?
DJ pointed at me. “Dat’s him. He helped me drag that dude out here.”
“Officers.” I acknowledged the two cops with a friendly nod. “Poor guy just had a bad day, that’s all. He’s on his way home.”
The taller of the cops, whose name was Childs, glanced at the empty bench and then me. “Are you okay? He didn’t get violent or anything?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He’s just a poor guy who’s down on his luck. Why don’t you cut him some slack?”
“We won’t go chasing him down, but we want to make sure he doesn’t cause another disturbance,” Childs said.
Sounded good to me. It was probably the best deal Gerry would get tonight. I left the cops and the bartender to their conversation and returned to the table, where I found Benni and Carmen deep in conversation.
Carmen
In the time it had taken me to straighten out the mess with Gerry Royce, the sun had dropped below the horizon. The pinks had turned red. Mauve darkened to purple. At each table, at least one person watched with rapt attention as the transformation to night continued. The two lovers now gazed at the outside world, their hands clasped across the table. No words. Both were young. Twenty-somethings? On their honeymoon, most likely. Was anything better than a Hawaiian honeymoon? Maybe…someday? I shook away the thought of commitment. I had to take things one day at a time.
As I pulled out my chair, the girls glanced up. Carmen had recovered her composure. She reached behind her neck with both hands, bundled her hair, and draped it forward over her left shoulder. She caught me watching, smiled, and held up her glass.
“Hail, my hero!”
Benni clinked her glass with Carmen’s, but she never took her eyes off her cousin. What was going on with Benni? Was she jealous because her cousin made every movement look provocative? Was she suspicious of her? I wanted Benni to be happy, but I needed some guidance. Or a miracle.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Carmen says that drunk guy has been harassing her a lot.”
Not from what I heard. One of them was lying. Why was Benni’s voice so strained? I winked at her, hoping to help her relax, but caught “the look,” instead. Tight jaw. Narrowed eyes. Why the sudden change in mood? Fifteen minutes ago, everyone had been happy and having fun. I cleared my throat. “Oh?”
“He even put his hand on my butt the last time.” Carmen stared across the table at Benni.
“That’s taking the aloha spirit a bit too far.” I snickered at my comeback, but when they both glared at me, I immediately regretted the direction I’d chosen.
“Is everything a joke to you, McKenna?” Benni scowled at me.
How did I answer that? Should I?
It was time to play it straight…avoid the trick questions where one wrong answer sent you to No Man’s Land. Apparently, while I was dealing with Gerry Royce, a big fat elephant had entered the room. Benni saw it. Carmen, too. Me? I needed one of those pink “While You Were Away” memos to catch up.
“Benni, it’s okay.” Carmen reached out and took Benni’s hand. “He’s just a jerk, and I overreacted.”
I gulped down wine and hoped she was referring to the drunk instead of me. The best way to extricate myself from No Man’s Land would be to slip into investigator mode. Questions without judgment. Neutral tone. “I take it he’s infatuated with you?”
Carmen shrugged. “I suppose. What is it with men, anyway? They think if they grab your butt you’ll get all turned on?”
“Yeah, McKenna, why do guys think that way?”
I gulped. Good grief, where was my pink memo? One wrong answer could ruin everything. “I’ve never—uh—well, grabbed a waitress—server.”
“See? There you are.” Carmen frowned. “Waitress. Subservient. Chattel. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”
Carmen planted her elbows on the table and leaned forward, her eyes showing a determination to shoot down any defense I might try to offer. The cousins might not see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but on this they were united. Benni crossed her arms and eased her chair away. Distancing herself from me? How had I upset both of them? I hadn’t even been in the room.
I licked my lips and swallowed hard. I’d be lucky if I didn’t spend the night on the couch, but I had to try. “How did we go from a waitress to chattel?”
The cousins exchanged some sort of look. It was a part of the female personality that baffled me. But they hadn’t jumped down my throat—yet. I continued.
“And, let’s back up the bus for a second, ladies. I went to help a drunk who fell off his barstool. Next thing I know, I’m facing the guillotine because I didn’t suggest we shoot him for being a jerk.”
Carmen chuckled and winked at me. “We’re just messing with you. Right, Cousin?”
Was she for real? Or was this another mind game?
Benni took a sip of w
ine. When she set the glass back down, she said, “We’re good. But, maybe we should order.”
We definitely weren’t “good.” There was still something bothering Benni. Maybe it would help if I volunteered to help Carmen find her fiancé.
“Great,” I said. “So Carmen, tell me why you want me to find James.” And why you don’t know his address.
“McKenna, I really think we should just have dinner.” Benni picked up her menu and made a show of reading. “I’m sure Carmen can sort out this thing with James.”
“No, honey, it’s okay. Really. I don’t mind.”
Carmen rested her hand on mine. I didn’t pull back. I was supposed to be showing support. How I could fit in with Benni’s family. Yah? That meant adapting my personal space to the needs of others. I could do this.
I smiled. Carmen winked at me. Benni huffed.
And I drained the last of my wine, pretty sure I’d gone from romantic getaway to sleeping on a couch. If only I knew how it happened.
Cybercrimes
I never did get a straight answer from Carmen about where James lived and finally—after another dirty look from Benni—I backed off. After dinner, I convinced her we should walk down to Wharf Street. The golden sun and blue ocean were gone, replaced by a canvas of black water and sky. Out toward Lāna‘i, a few white lights twinkled. During the day, the island was a majestic presence, a reminder of how the islands rose from the ocean floor. With the night came serenity. Peace. A different type of majesty, one that included the twinkling lights of ships sailing the sea.
Benni had barely said a word since dinner. I reached out and my little finger brushed hers. When her hand slipped into mine, I closed my eyes, said a silent thank you, and gently squeezed. “You know I’m madly in love with you and the only reason I agreed to help Carmen was I thought that’s what you wanted.”
She faced me. Sighed. Rolled her eyes. “How many times did I ask you to leave it alone?”
“Uh, are we talking about just verbal cues or the nasty looks, too?”
Happy Homicides 4: Fall Into Crime: Includes Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crimes Page 86