The Scent of Waikiki

by Terry Ambrose

  I couldn’t help but notice how Lexie’s jaw tightened, and how she let out a small huff.

  “Skye’s a barracuda,” I said.

  “The problem with Island Passion is the company’s not very deep.” He must have seen the look of confusion on my face because he quickly added, “They don’t have a lot of their own technical resources. Anyway, they called once. Said they wanted some research done on pheromones. It was all very hush-hush and confined. I told them I was too busy with other projects.”

  I snapped my fingers and groaned. “Rats. That takes out one possibility.”

  “What’s that, McKenna?” Chance craned his neck forward and peered at me.

  “I was hoping we had another source on the inside of the company. Someone other than Skye.”

  Benni, who had been silent for the entire conversation, leaned forward and angled herself so she could look directly at Colin. “Do you have any students who went to work at Island Passion?”

  Duh, leave it to the businesswoman I was going to marry to connect the dots I’d missed. I, too, waited anxiously for his answer.

  He shook his head. “Wish I could help you. Most of my students had no interest in fragrances. There was one, Stephen Brantley, but he never wanted to do the hard work.”

  Benni, Lexie, Chance, and I all gawked at each other while Colin sat at the end of the couch looking like a man feeling left out.

  Finally, he asked, “Did I say something wrong?”

  I regarded him for a moment, then said, “Stephen Brantley? There’s a waiter at Club Mystique who has the same name. Could it be the same guy?”

  The lines around Colin’s brown eyes crinkled into a smile. “I have no idea. I’ve never been there. It’s not my kind of place.” He turned and winked at Lexie. “Your dad invited me to lunch there when we first met. I told him I’d rather hit Mario’s.”

  Lexie wrapped her hands around her knees and leaned forward as she laughed. “You made my dad go to a food truck?”

  “He loved it,” Colin said.

  “I’m going to suggest it the next time we meet for lunch.” Lexie said as she brushed a few strands of hair back over her shoulder. “I can’t wait to see his reaction.”

  “Excellent,” Colin said, then looked around at the four of us. “Any other questions?”

  “Actually, yes.” Chance rested both elbows on his knees as he gazed at Colin. “What did you mean when you said Stephen Brantley didn’t want to do the hard work?”

  “Stephen was fascinated by ectohormones…” Colin stopped mid-sentence and winced. “Sorry, jargon alert. An ectohormone is one that works outside the body of the individual who secretes it. Basically, he was interested in how scent could influence the behavior of an individual.”

  “Are we back to the love potion idea?” Benni asked.

  “Exactly. We know insects use pheromones as a method of communication. They can detect the scent over huge distances. Those scents can serve as a welcome, or a warning.”

  “Like a dog marking its territory,” Benni said.

  Seeing Benni digging in like this reminded me of why Mrs. Nakamura would have fallen in love with that eager young mind.

  “That, and more,” Colin continued. “Pheromones can mark food trails, be used for a mother and her baby to bond, or they can influence sexual responses. Which is why the fragrance industry wants them to work so badly.”

  “That’s why we see all these woo-woo oils and perfumes? Because everybody thinks they’re a fast track to something?” At a nod from Colin, I added, “The big question is, do they work?” I watched his face intently as he spoke.

  “As I said before, the evidence is weak. Most scientific studies say no,” Colin said. “There is another application, however. There’s some promising evidence that plant hormones may be effective in the fight against cancer. That doesn’t do you a whole lot of good here.”

  “Are you involved in that research?” I asked.

  “No, the disease runs in my family so I follow the research closely. I’m hoping science makes a breakthrough before my time comes.”

  Lexie reached over and laid a hand on Colin’s. She gazed at him as she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head and his smile returned. “No worries, Lexie. I live life day-to-day. Happy to have what I’ve got.”

  “So what does that have to do with Island Passion and this missing perfume?” I asked.

  “Medical applications are far more rigorous than the fragrance industry. There are no shortcuts or easy outs in medicine. You know, every time I see a kid trying to take a shortcut in one of my classes, I tell them they have to work hard. A lot of them get the message. Stephen Brantley was one who didn’t.”

  I took in a slow breath and thought back to my days as a skip tracer. Sadness. I’d seen so much of it. Too many people looking for a way to dodge their obligations—to find that easy out, if you will. “I get it. My job was to find people and collect money they didn’t want to pay. So many wanted a quick fix. What exactly did Stephen want?”

  Colin gave me an easy smile as he held my gaze. “Other than fame, fortune, and a million adoring fans because he’d helped them find love? I’m exaggerating a bit, but he thought he could waltz into a fragrance company with his degree and his enthusiasm and get a job doing research.”

  “No matter what industry you’re in, you have to pay your dues,” Chance said.

  Wow. Profound words from the rich kid who’d spent his life screwing up careers. “Nice,” I said, then glanced at Lexie. “Hang onto him. He’s getting smarter and smarter.”

  “I try to learn from the master,” Chance said. He lowered his voice and wiggled his head from side-to-side as he spoke. “Don’t follow McKenna’s example.”

  A rush of heat filled my cheeks. It wasn’t so much because I was embarrassed at being the focus of his jibe; it had more to do with how accurately he’d nailed my life. I winked at him. “I tell myself the same thing, buddy. Every day.”

  My earnest response seemed to take Chance off guard. Now his face turned pink and he quickly apologized. “I was just kidding, McKenna.”

  “No worries. I finally have my life together. And speaking of having things together, you’re in charge of this little escapade, what do you want to do next?”

  Without hesitation, Chance sat up straight in his chair. “No question, we need another trip to Club Mystique. Mr. Brantley has more questions to answer.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Once we’d exhausted our curiosity, Colin took his leave and headed for the beach. For our return engagement at Club Mystique, Chance and I agreed we should hit them before the rush hour. That meant no dinner, but a visit to their bar and a discussion with the bartender. Benni and Lexie begged off, indicating they just wanted to hang out and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I was not going to grumble, even though I suspected the decoded message was more like, “We want to watch the Surfing Professor in action.”

  As Chance pulled the red Ferrari into valet parking at the hotel, the valet on duty watched us closely. He rushed forward and was opening Chance’s door before the car had come to a full stop. Chance got out, the valet hopped in, and the engine growled a couple of times before the car rumbled away.

  On our way to the massive front entry, I looked at Chance. “You realize, of course, you may never see your car again.”

  “It’s insured,” Chance said casually, then shot a quick glance over his shoulder.

  We took the elevator to the top floor, exited, and were greeted by a petite hostess wearing a flowing red-and-white dress and a sunny smile.

  “Welcome to Club Mystique, gentlemen. My name is Tiffany. The restaurant will open for dinner at five, but the bar is now open for cocktails.”

  I glanced at Chance and said, “It’s your show.”

  Chance stepped forward, one of his business cards at the ready. “Hi, Tiffany. We’re trying to obtain information about one of your servers, Stephen Brantley.”

  Tif
fany took the card, staring at it with her eyes wide. “Wow, a real private investigator.”

  Oh, boy. This one was fresh out of high school. If that. But despite her moment of awe, Tiffany shrugged and handed the card back to Chance.

  “Sorry, I can’t help you,” she chirped. “Would you like a table or do you want to sit at the bar?”

  You could have knocked me over with a gentle breeze. I’d been sure that between Chance’s smile, the card, and Tiffany’s apparent naiveté, we’d been a sure thing for the scoop on Stephen.

  “Would this help?” Chance held out a fifty dollar bill.

  Tiffany’s lips pursed, then her jaw tightened. She fingered a dangling red earring that matched the red in her dress. “I don’t know…” She dragged out the last word until the point where it became painful.

  Chance pulled out another fifty. I had to admit one thing, having someone who threw money around as though it was water did make getting information a lot easier. In the old days, I’d have had to rely on trickery and deceit. With Chance around, all I had to do was say, “Cash, please.”

  “Tiffany,” Chance leaned forward and smiled at the girl. “Come on, we need help here.”

  “Does this have anything to do with why Stephen didn’t come in today?” Tiffany winced and gazed expectantly at him.

  “As a matter of fact, we’re concerned,” I said.

  The girl sucked in a breath and brought her fingers to her lips. “Is he okay?”

  I looked at Chance, and he at me. Obviously, Tiffany was genuinely worried, so why not rely on the old school method? “We’re not sure. He may have gotten involved in something…well, I’d rather not say. But, we could use your help.” I nodded at the hundred bucks Chance was holding out like a bunch of carrots.

  She glanced around the room, grabbed the money, and then turned away as she apparently stuffed it in her bra. When she turned back her face was pink. “No pockets,” she said and flushed a deeper red.

  “No worries,” Chance said. “Nice dress, by the way.”

  “Lovely,” I echoed.

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “My wardrobe costs are killing me.”

  The elevator bell pinged and Tiffany pulled on one of the spaghetti straps to adjust her lovely red-and-white dress with no pockets. Two young men wearing aloha shirts and khaki shorts stepped out when the doors opened. Immediately, Tiffany slipped into hostess mode and provided directions to the bar.

  As the two men walked away, Chance said, “So, about Stephen?”

  “Stephen’s always like super friendly. You know how some guys can be so easy to talk to? But last night he was totally down. Me and a couple of the other girls tried to cheer him up, but he wasn’t himself.”

  “We were here last night,” I said. “But I don’t recall seeing you.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I totally got stuck working in the back last night.”

  The two men who had just arrived sat at the bar. The bartender, a large man with jet-black hair combed back, greeted them. There was something familiar about him. Maybe it was my imagination, but he bore a resemblance to Benni’s brother Alexander.

  Confident that Chance and his wallet could handle anything that came up, I took a step back from the conversation. If the bartender was somehow related to Benni, maybe I could use that connection while Chance questioned Tiffany. “Excuse me. I’ll let you finish this.”

  Chance stared at me for a moment, then raised his hand in a shaka sign as I left them. It hadn’t occurred to me, but now that I was approaching the bar, and didn’t have the human ATM with me, I realized I had a grand total of three bucks in my pocket. Even at happy hour, I probably couldn’t afford anything more than water.

  As I approached, the bartender glanced in my direction and raised his chin in acknowledgement. “Hey, brah, be right with you.”

  The cadence of the voice was similar to Alexander’s. As was the way he moved. I couldn’t shake the feeling this man was a family relation.

  I took a spot at the end of the bar, four stools away from the other new arrivals. As I waited, I glanced around. This was truly an island paradise—at least, the picture of one. Palms created privacy screens between tables throughout. Hanging baskets of ferns and trailing flowers created the illusion of a garden overhead. And the teak wood—wow, the place must have cost a fortune.

  “What can I get you, brah?”

  I jumped at the sound of the bartender’s voice, which jarred me from a trancelike state. “This place is magic.”

  “The owner did a lotta upgrades a few years ago. Been good for business. What can I get you?” His smile spread a bit to expose perfectly white teeth. He had the features of a local boy—dark hair, bronzed skin, and a pidgin accent.

  “You remind me of someone I know. Alexander Kapono.”

  “We cousins, brah. Henry Lim.” He set down the white towel he’d been carrying and reached across the bar.

  We shook hands. His grip was firm, assured, as was his posture.

  “McKenna,” I said. “I’m engaged to Alexander’s sister Benni. That guy was my only friend for the first few years I was on island.”

  “Oh!” His voice trilled into a high falsetto and he giggled. “You two had some big-time adventures, yah?”

  I nodded. “We did.”

  “Alexander said you working with some young guy now. What you doing here?”

  “Trying to get information about one of your servers. Stephen Brantley.”

  Henry grunted and reached for his towel. As he polished a section of the bar to my right, he said, “Oh, him. The perfume guy.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He waved his free hand dismissively and smirked. “He gives a lot of the girls these perfumes he makes himself. Guy thinks he’s the next Christian Dior or something.” Henry snickered and glanced toward the front entrance. “The stuff he gave to Cousin Tiffany was awful. She wore it maybe once and her mom made her wash it off.”

  I followed his gaze to the front entrance, saw Chance engaged in full-on smooth mode, and pursed my lips. “The hostess is your cousin? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve lost track of how many cousins, aunties, and uncles Alexander has.”

  “We got a bunch.” He winked at me. “I got her this job so she could save some money for college. Instead she’s spending it all on fancy dresses. Kid gotta learn, yah?”

  “I couldn’t agree more. She’s a cute girl. Seems smart enough. But they need to learn some money sense.”

  “Her mom and dad always did everything for her. She’s learning. Now, that Stephen, he had big plans. He’s been saying lately he got this big job lined up.”

  “Did he say where?”

  “He said his friend was gonna get him on at Island Passion.” Henry scrunched up his face and seemed to think for a few seconds. “Angela, maybe? You’d have to ask Bootsy. She’s the one who introduced them. You in luck, brah, she’s coming on in about ten minutes.”

  I looked back toward the entrance. Chance was still talking to Tiffany. Could I scoop the rich kid? “Henry, had Stephen been acting strange lately?”

  “I gonna say one thing for the guy. He’s always been reliable. Lately, though, he’s been kinda down.”

  “Hasn’t been himself?”

  “No, brah, he got real depressed about something last night. He started getting grumpy with a couple customers, so the big boss sent him home early.” He glanced over at his two other customers. “Let me check on these guys.”

  I watched Henry easily shift into friendly bartender mode with the other customers. Maybe the meeting Chance and I had with Stephen in the men’s room had affected him more than we’d realized. Up to that point, he’d been fine, but his mood had soured after we confronted him. Had he truly been upset over having lost a friend, or was it something else? While waiting, I rested my elbows on the polished wood and surveyed the room. The place was absolutely stunning. And I had three bucks in my pocket.

  Chance eased himself
onto the stool next to mine. “You’re looking like you’re contemplating something deep, McKenna.”

  I put on my game face. “Trying to decide if I should do a dine-and-dash.”

  Chance laughed and buried his face in his hands. Shaking his head, he looked as though he were either taking pity on me or getting ready to have me committed. Right now, I figured it could go either way.

  “Seriously? They’d nab you before you got down the elevator.” Chance smirked as he added, “Maybe you need more fiber.”

  I leaned back, one elbow on the bar, and stared at him. “Excuse me? Fiber?”

  “Sure, it could be your body’s all out of whack or something. You might just need a little…regulation.”

  Henry was just finishing up with his other customers, so I waved and called to him. “Bring us a couple of pina coladas, Henry. Make them with Bacardi Gold. It’s on this guy.” I hooked my thumb at Chance. “He says I need more fiber.”

  Without missing a beat, Henry nodded at me and flashed a shaka sign. “Gonna fix you right up, brah. I’ll put in extra pineapple.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Henry returned with our drinks, a pair of frosty glasses with two pineapple spears poking out of the white liquid. After introducing him to Chance and explaining that Henry was a Kapono cousin, I looked at Chance and smiled.

  “Bet I know something about Bootsy you don’t know.”

  Chance took a sip, smacked his lips and gazed at me. “What? That she’ll be here in a few minutes?”

  My delight at being one up on Chance vanished like a magician’s assistant in the locked box. “Are you kidding me?” I shot another glance over my shoulder. “Did Tiffany tell you that?”

  “I’m a thorough investigator, McKenna. You wanted to gloat, didn’t you?”

  “Me? Would I do…”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. You got me. Sorry I didn’t tell you right away. It wasn’t very partnerish.”

  He scrutinized my face for a moment, then shook his head. “I think I like the cranky McKenna more.”

  I raised my glass in a mini-toast, then took a sip and turned to Henry. “You said Bootsy should be here any minute, yah?”