by Lois Winston
“Ah…no. But I’m sure they’ll have something as good.” I smiled, and tried to get down to business. “Caroline, I just have a few—”
“You’re a big one, aren’t you?” She went off track again, looking me up and down.
Even though I had a good six inches in height on her, she still outweighed me by twenty or thirty pounds, so I assumed she meant ‘tall’ not ‘big’. I made note. Her word choices might not match whatever facts she carried in her head. Or she could have Hazy Fact syndrome. I looked at my problem child and decided to be firm.
“Caroline, let’s sit down for a minute. Please. I just have a question or two.”
I sat as an example and she followed suit. She set the fistful of cookies on a nearby napkin and placed her iced tea next to them, fidgeting with the arrangement.
“What did you say your name was? Lee Gonzales or something?”
“Lee Alvarez, but call me Lee.”
“Look, Lee, I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, because they think I’m in the know, but I’m not. If you want the skinny on Jan, other than her being a total bitch, you’ll have to talk to someone else. We weren’t all that close.”
“Ah…really?”
Okay, this woman kept throwing me. Larry had told me she was Janet Bernstein’s friend.
“So you two weren’t friends?”
She took a large bite of a cookie, chewed for a moment then leaned in.
“Not really. I mean, she hired me to work at Royal Bites, but she worked me harder than a mule. Then the other day I overheard her say on her phone to someone she was going to fire me as soon as we came back from this vacation. Can you imagine that? And you know what she said when she saw me in this bathing suit?”
I shook my head dumbly.
“That I looked like an Orange Julius sign. What a bitch.”
“I’ll bet that made you mad.”
“Mad? I was furious.” She stared at me for a moment. “Hey, but don’t you go getting any ideas I had anything to do with her death. Like I told the cop, as soon as my ex pays me the back alimony he owes me, I’m outta there. And my lawyer says it should be any day now.”
As she spoke, specks of cookie sprayed everywhere. I brushed crumbs off my lap and forearm in what I hoped was a casual manner. She noticed and her tone changed from incensed to apologetic.
“Sorry about wolfing the cookies down.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I didn’t have any lunch. That stupid cop kept questioning me and wouldn’t let me go. As if I knew anything more about Jan than I told him in the first place. I’m starving. Want a cookie? There’s plenty.”
“No, thank you. So if you weren’t friends and she was going to fire you, what made you go on vacation with her?”
She looked at me with surprise.
“Because she said if I went with her, she’d pay for half my trip. And I already bought this stupid bathing suit.”
She glanced around before she continued, leaning in on me again.
“You know, it looked a lot better online.”
She threw herself back in the chair once more, but continued to bounce around. I made another note: Caroline Osborne was not a woman to sit still. She was more like the motor of my ’57 Chevy when it has too much carbon build up, putt-putting all over the place, even in neutral.
Caroline’s voice brought me out of my reverie. “And come on, do I look like I could afford a place like this, otherwise? I figured, what the hey, she’s paying for half of it. Better get it while I can.”
“How did you both get hooked up with a group of teachers?”
She chomped down on a fresh cookie, talking as she chewed. “My sister, Donna, is a teacher. The one with the tattoos. She’s a gym teacher, so they let her get away with that. Can’t stand them, myself.”
“Gym teachers or tattoos?” I removed my arm from the table. I could have used a bib.
Caroline chuckled. “You’re funny, Lee. Tattoos. I don’t like anything that calls attention to oneself,” said she, decked out in a bright orange getup trimmed with oversized, sparkly red flowers. Parade floats had less going for them.
“The group from Donna’s high school planned this trip for months, but two people dropped out at the last minute. The group had to drum up two more takers. Something about they’d have to pay for the airline tickets, even if nobody used them. Donna told me, I told Jan, and it was Jan’s idea to do this at the last minute. She even closed up shop to come. Not that business has been so great lately.”
Caroline deliberated for a moment.
“And all of that just to come here and get killed. Imagine that.”
She imagined that while cramming another cookie in her mouth. I sat back, bracing myself. Then I took off my sunglasses, cleaned them, and went on.
“Did she have a special reason for wanting to come to Kauai, other than it being paradise?”
She stopped eating, swallowed, and drew her chair closer to mine. “Funny you should ask that. Jan said there was an old flame that needed to know she was still around.”
“Like who?”
“I have no idea. She’d called him her ex-sugar daddy. But she never told me his name. She was a girl who really liked to milk men dry, though. You know what I mean?”
She winked conspiratorially. I wasn’t sure what she meant, me being someone who never even milked a cow, but I winked back in solidarity.
“Good afternoon,” Gurn said.
I’d been so intent on the conversation I hadn’t even heard him approach. Caroline and I looked up at the same time, me with a smile on my face, her more with a drool.
“Well, hello there, you,” Caroline said leaning back in her chair in a flirty manner, thrusting out her breasts.
“Caroline,” I said by way of introduction, “this is my husband, Gurn Hanson. Gurn, this is Caroline Osborne.”
He gave her one of his dazzling smiles, and I thought she’d faint. “Lovely to meet you,” he said, turning on the charm. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all, not at all.” Caroline gushed.
Gurn pulled out a chair, sat down, and got right to it. “So Caroline, I take it you knew the deceased.”
“Oh, yes. She and I were great friends.”
Stunned, I kept my mouth shut. Either Caroline Osborne was the type of woman who said one thing to a man and another to a woman or she was a big, fat liar. She glanced at me with a guilty expression.
“Well, not great friends. Jan was actually my employer for the past six months, but I knew her pretty well,” she added.
I got into the conversation. “Caroline mentioned that she and Janet Bernstein joined a group of teachers at the last minute scheduled to vacation here.”
“Oh?” Gurn turned from me to Caroline, directing his lopsided smile at her. She began to hyperventilate. “Why don’t you tell us about it?”
“There isn’t much to tell,” Caroline said. She seemed disappointed she couldn’t think of any juicy tidbits. Then she broke out in a smile. “Although she did say that me coming with her was good cover. I was like her beard.” She looked at both of us. “You know what a ‘beard’ is?”
We both nodded, but Gurn spoke up. “Yes, it’s a slang term describing a person who is used, knowingly or unknowingly, to either conceal infidelity or someone's sexual orientation. Was Janet gay?”
“No, no,” Caroline protested. “She laughed when I said it. She also called me her misdirection, whatever that means.”
Gurn pulled his chair closer, charm exuding from every pore. “Did she see anyone after she arrived in Kauai?”
Caroline shrugged. “I’d have no way of knowing. She was in her own room on another floor.”
I had a sudden idea. “She had a cell phone, right? I wonder if it’s still in her room.”
The other woman shook her head. “I was in there after the police went through everything, and I mean everything. It’s gone.” She mused again. “All those expensive cl
othes and none of them fit me. I guess they’ll go to Goodwill.”
“Doesn’t she have a family?” Gurn studied the woman. “Someone who’ll want her things?”
“I don’t think so,” said Caroline. “She once said she was an orphan. The only thing she ever had were boyfriends. She had lots of those. Single, married; she didn’t care, as long as they had money. She liked men to buy things for her. As long as they did, she’d keep them around. When they didn’t, adios amigos.”
Her Spanish accent was lousy, but I got the gist.
FIVE
“Janet Bernstein didn’t sound like a very nice woman, if we are to believe Caroline Osborne,” Gurn said, as we strolled back to our bungalow.
“You mean Caroline Cookie Crumbs? She could be jealous, looking for the worst to say about a woman who planned on firing her,” I said. “What detained you on the beach?”
Gurn stopped walking and turned to me. “You’ll never believe it, but I ran into one of my fellow flyers from the Sacramento fire, Don Henry. And guess who he is?” Gurn didn’t wait for me to reply. “Robin Margolis’ older brother.”
“Are you kidding me? What’s going on? A convention of Sacramento-ites?”
“What makes you say that?”
“The manager, Larry, is originally from Sacramento.”
“Is he now?”
Gurn thought for a moment. We started back to the bungalow again.
After a moment or two, he said, “Don’s not strictly from Sacramento. He’s from El Dorado, a nearby town. He’s married, owns his own crop dusting business, and works pretty much all of northern California.”
“Is he rich?”
Gurn looked at me. “I don’t know. Could be.”
“He could have met Janet at the Sacramento airport. Or even before. What’s he doing here, did he say?”
“He and his wife are joining Robin and Ken for two weeks. That’s who they want us to have dinner with tonight, remember?”
“We should go. We need to know Don Henry better.”
Before Gurn could reply, his phone rang. He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled it out, and looked at the incoming call.
“It’s Detective Kim,” he said before answering it. “Yes, Detective, what can I do for you?”
He listened for the better part of a minute without saying a word. Disconnecting, Gurn turned to me.
“He advised me to change our plane tickets for going home to a later date. It seems someone at the Sacramento Airport remembers seeing a man resembling me talking to Janet Bernstein during the time of the fire.”
“This is serious, darling,” I murmured.
“It’s getting there, my love,” Gurn remarked lightly. “It’s getting there.” But his face belied his tone.
As we came through the door of our bungalow, I pulled out my phone, and hit speed dial. When my brother answered I said, “Richard, it’s me. Things aren’t looking so good here.”
“More trouble in paradise?”
“Big time. Putting you on speakerphone. You need to look into a few more people, okay? I may be going out on a limb, but I think this is more important than any job you may be doing for D. I.”
“Of course it is.” His reply was clipped and without hesitation. “What do you need?”
“Check on a man called Don…” I looked at Gurn for the last name.
“Don Henry,” said Gurn.
“Don Henry,” I repeated. “He owns a crop dusting business in El Dorado. Look into his finances and as much of his private life as you can.”
“Got it,” Richard replied. “Anything else?”
“Janet Bernstein’s finances, if you can,” I said.
“I already did. Three months behind on her store rent and house mortgaged to the max. And yet she still found the money to have Liposuction, Botox, and Juvederm three months ago.”
“And she was no piker with her wardrobe, either,” I said. “She got the money from somewhere.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like it was from one of her ex-husbands,” Richard said.
“Why’s that?”
“She was married to the first one at twenty-two and the second at twenty-four. Each marriage only lasted a few months. Both men moved out of state right after their subsequent divorces.”
“So she had that effect on them,” I quipped.
“Apparently,” said Richard. I could feel his smile over the miles. “But even if the divorces weren’t so amicable, it’s been over thirteen years and the men seem to have moved on. Both remarried and have families. One lives in Texas; he sells farm equipment. The other works in a hardware store in New Jersey. No record of air or boat travel for either one of them.”
“So unless they swam here,” I said, “those two are out.”
“I’m trying to get into her bank account now, Lee, but it’s not as easy as you think.”
“Do your best, Rich,” Gurn said, coming into the conversation. “And while you’re at it, you might check on one of her workers, Caroline Osborne. There’s something about her that’s peculiar.”
“I agree,” I said. “She changed her story several times.”
Gurn nodded. “Rich, you also might want to look into Larry Karlston. He’s one of the managers of the Royal Kauai, where we’re staying. Larry takes several trips a year to San Francisco on business—”
“And he’s from Sacramento,” I interjected. “He said he left twenty years ago, but we only have his word for it. He might have been having a thing with Janet Bernstein.”
Gurn went on, “His wife, Carla, mentioned in passing her family owns the Royal Kauai. That means there’s probably money, but not his.”
“So,” said Richard, “if he was ‘having a thing’ with Janet Bernstein and his wife found out, it might be dicey for him?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Carla seems to have, what is romantically called, a fiery temper.”
“I’ve noticed her husband and the staff pretty much walk on eggshells around her,” Gurn said. “Not bad for someone under five feet tall. But would she kill Janet Bernstein?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes a wife wants to get rid of the competition, not the husband.”
“What are you saying?” said Richard, “That I should check out not only the men but the wives, as well?”
“I’m thinking, yes,” I said. “If they’re on the island, they might have done it. Poison is often a woman’s weapon of choice.”
“Great.” Richard expelled air in a noisy sigh. “What are their names?”
“I mentioned Carla Karlston before,” said Gurn. “And there’s Anna Henry, Don’s wife. We haven’t met her yet, so I don’t know what she’s like.”
“We can let Don’s sister, Robin, go for the moment,” I said, ruminating. “Even if Don was fooling around with Janet, his sister probably wouldn’t know about it. Unless we come across something different at dinner, we’ll pass on her for now.”
“Then I’d better get to it. There’s five people I need to check up on and Lord knows who else you two will come up with by the time I get back to you.”
“Sorry, Richard,” I said.
“Me, too,” Gurn said.
My brother was quick to reply. “Don’t apologize. I’m in the office. It’s not me I’m thinking about, anyway. You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon.”
I looked at Gurn and waggled my eyebrows, knowing my brother only heard my voice. “Oh, we’ve managed to squeeze in a few fun moments here and there.”
“Besides, murder doesn’t always happen when it’s convenient,” said Gurn.
“I would hope it’s never convenient,” I countered, with a smile.
“True enough.” Gurn returned my smile. “I’m going to take a walk to the marina and see what I can find out about the boat owners who rent slips. It’s a long shot. A lot of craft anchor in the bay rather than the marina, but it’s worth a try. Okay, so we all have our assigned duties. Rich, you’re checking out those five people, and I’m heading out to
the marina.”
“What about me?” I looked at Gurn in surprise.
“You, my sweet,” he said while kissing me on the forehead, “are going to keep your foot up and get some rest. There’s a big night ahead of us. We have to find out if Don Henry, or his wife, are candidates for murder. If you’re going to be Nancy Drew to my Hardy Boy, you need to be well rested.”
I broke out into a smile and hugged him. “If you’re one of the Hardy Boys, let’s make you Joe.” I kissed him on the cheek.
“Yuk,” said my brother. “You can sure tell who’s on a honeymoon, no matter what’s going on. I’m hanging up before I throw up.”
SIX
I iced my ankle and settled down for a good think. Something was eluding me and I couldn’t quite harness what it was. I must have fallen asleep in the recliner because the next thing I heard was the front door knob turn. I opened my eyes and saw my man walk through the door.
Gurn was wearing a big grin on his face, similar to the one Tugger, My Son The Cat, has when he’s found one of his noisy toys I’ve hidden.
“Success, darling?” I struggled to a sitting position and gave out with a big yawn.
“Yes, and you seem to have had a successful nap, beloved.”
“I did. But tell me what you found out. From the look on your face, I can tell it’s something good.”
He sat next to my game foot resting on the ottoman. “The lounge chair. The marina has several chaise lounges strewn around their deck exactly like the one Janet Bernstein was found on. In fact, when I asked the clerk about it, he said they were missing one.”
I reached for my phone with an eager hand. “Let’s call Detective Kim and tell him.”
Gurn covered my hand with his. “Not yet. The clerk says two or three go missing every month. Boaters are known to either take a chair back to their boat in the middle of the night or have too much to drink and toss one into the water. But more importantly, the marina buys them at the local Costco. So does everyone else on the island.”