“I said I couldn’t get him to get up out of bed.”
“Oh.”
“He’s taking this really hard.” Em wished she’d walked over to the Goddess to consult Sophie instead of this bunch.
“So what do you think?” she asked them. “We don’t even know if Marilyn wanted to be buried on Kauai or not. I don’t think we should hold a funeral or a memorial until we hear from her nephew.”
“She adored Tom. He was the son she never had,” Precious told them. “She even brought him into the shop to meet me last time he was on Kauai. He’ll be heartbroken. I think you should wait until you talk to him.”
Kiki zipped her purse closed. “Where did you say he is? Indonesia?”
“India. Outsourcing something. Do you know who he works for?” Em asked Precious.
“No, but he has a good job. Marilyn said he was recently promoted. Something about banking.”
“How about cremation?” Suzi suggested. “That way the nephew can take her ashes back to the mainland if that’s where she wanted to end up.”
“Maybe she has a burial plot near her one of her late husbands,” Precious said.
“Maybe she’s got ’em all lined up in a cemetery somewhere on the mainland. Black Widow Gardens.” Kiki laughed but then quickly sobered. “Thank heaven Louie escaped.”
Em wondered if she should tell Kiki that in the wee hours of the morning she had defended Kiki to Roland. For her own sake, she should stop making jokes about dearly departed Marilyn. Why risk more trouble? If Kiki thought she was under suspicion, and with Kimo out on bail, she could get hysterical. Hell had no fury that could match Kiki in hysterics.
Suzi interrupted Em’s thoughts. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen.”
“Thanks for your input,” Em said. “I’ll think about what you said.”
“I’ll help.” Precious climbed down off the sofa and followed Suzi. “What should I do?”
“Go out and tell the guys we’re going to need more than one serving table for all this food.”
“Got it. Do you know if anyone brought any bottled water? If not, I can run into Hanalei and get some,” Precious offered.
“No need,” Suzi said. “I saw a stack of Fiji water cases out there.”
“Great. I’m dying of thirst.”
Em held up her hand. “Please, don’t use the word dying. I can’t take any more.”
“I’ll head out and help set up the serving tables,” Kiki said. “Least I can do.”
“It’s too bad Marilyn isn’t here to see how much people really cared,” Em noted.
A pained expression crossed Kiki’s face. “Em, all these folks aren’t here for Marilyn. They’re here for Louie.”
Em looked around and realized Kiki was probably right.
Kiki had no sooner left her side than Lillian walked into the house on MyBob’s arm. The man Marilyn had pointed out as Orville Orion at last night’s party was with them. He was definitely a tall, well-dressed senior of about Louie’s vintage.
Lil, MyBob, and Orion paused on the threshold between the lanai and the living room until Em caught Lil’s eye and waved them over. Lillian’s upper left arm was bandaged to her shoulder.
“Oh, Lil, how are you?”
Lillian sniffed and glanced down at her wounded arm. “I’m fine, all things considered.”
“She’s lucky she didn’t go up in flames. As it is, her arm is as cooked as hulihuli chicken.” MyBob patted Lil on her good shoulder. “I’m just thankful I pulled her wig off before the fire reached her neck and face.”
Em blinked. “Um, as I recall, Roland pulled her wig off.”
“Whatever,” MyBob said. “Thank goodness my little Lil survived. We’re hoping she’ll be able to dance without any residual trauma.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be just as good as before,” Em said. The way Lillian danced, Em figured she couldn’t get any worse.
“I posted pictures and videos of Lillian dancing and the fire out on her Facebook fan page. You can’t believe the response. A group from our hometown in Iowa is already planning a pilgrimage to Kauai.”
“A pilgrimage?”
“They’re coming all this way to cheer her in her time of need. Some of them have never been out of the state. I’ll bet none of the other Maidens have gotten as many hits since last night.”
“It would be interesting to find out.” Lillian patted her pink bouffant. “Remind me to ask around.”
Em could tell Orville Orion was hovering nearby, waiting for an introduction. He reminded her of her uncle in that he stood straight and tall for his years and appeared to be in great shape. Though he had less hair than Uncle Louie, he had enough for a comb over that was only borderline tacky. His green eyes were filled with sadness.
She smiled directly at him and held out her hand. “I’m Em Johnson. I don’t believe we’ve met. Things were a bit hectic last night.”
“I’m Orville Orion.” He wrapped her hand in both of his. “Marilyn was my neighbor. She was a close friend.”
Em recalled Marilyn mentioning his name the night she found out Tom was in India.
Her uncle had said the two once dated.
Orville let go of Em’s hand and shook his head. In a voice so low Em barely heard him, he said, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“It’s terrible,” she said.
He gazed around the room. “Is your uncle here? I’d like to extend my sympathies.”
“He’s . . . indisposed right now. You can imagine this was quite a shock.”
“The night before the wedding. So sad.”
“Has Uncle Louie started on a commemorative cocktail yet?” MyBob wanted to know.
“Not yet. That just shows you how far down he really is.”
“I’ve got a great name for a cocktail in Lillian’s honor. You know, it’s not every day a hula dancer sets her hair on fire. That’s something that needs commemorating if you ask me.”
“I’m sure Louie will be interested in your idea. Some other day, though.” Em noticed that across the room, Suzi had organized a conga line to help carry the casseroles outside.
“I’m thinking of coming up with the ingredients myself and naming it ‘Light My Fire’ after the song.” MyBob laughed. “Then again, maybe you shouldn’t tell him. I don’t want him to steal my idea. Lillian’s become such a celebrity, I should probably have the idea copyrighted.”
18
Roland Returns
By three in the afternoon everyone at Louie’s house had already eaten at least twice, and a contented lethargy had set in big time. Folks were sitting around the tables beneath tents constructed out of aluminum posts and blue oil cloth tarps that protected them from the passing trade showers that misted the island and painted rainbows across the sky. No one was moving much at all.
Em listened to the lilting strains of slack-key guitar and ukulele music that lightened the mood. Her uncle had finally changed into board shorts and an Aloha shirt covered with illustrations of century-old maps of the Hawaiian Islands and joined the group. He was seated at a table with some of his cronies. None of them were saying much.
Kiki had stationed herself at the serving table where she could chat with one and all while alternately sipping white wine on ice and ladling out lomilomi salmon. Pan after pan of mac-potato salad, teriyaki chicken thighs, kalua pork, ribs, fish, rice, rice, and more rice covered every inch of three long tables. One lonely little bowl of mixed green salad had made an appearance in the sea of carbos.
Aware of Roland’s arrival from the minute he walked across the yard, Em watched him stop to chat with everyone who hailed him. Like Louie, even though he was all business while on duty, he still had a smile ready for those who wanted to talk story.
After stopping for
much wala’au along the way, he crossed the yard and spotted Em. When it was clear he was headed over to talk to her, she got up and met him halfway.
“Any news?”
“Yeah, but not the good kind. Walk with me.”
Together they slowly strolled toward the Goddess parking lot where Em noticed Little Estelle parked in the shade of a mango tree. She was sound asleep, slumped over the handle bars of the Gadabout. Her umbrella hat covered her head and shoulders.
Roland stopped as soon as they were out of earshot of the gathering. He was no longer smiling.
“It didn’t take long for forensics to find out the brake line on Marilyn’s car had been tampered with. I figure it probably happened right here in the parking lot. Someone punctured or cut through it just enough so that it eventually severed completely while she was on the road.”
Em was stunned. It was one thing to speculate someone may have killed Marilyn, but it was another to find proof of foul play.
Island life was portrayed as being laid back and tranquil, but because of human nature, paradise was as hectic and dangerous as anywhere else in the world.
“Do you remember where she parked last night?”
She walked him a couple of yards down the lot and pointed. “Right about here, I think.”
“Do you know whose van this is?”
“Big Estelle’s. The lift on the back is for her mother’s Gadabout. Do you want me to ask her to move it?”
“Not yet.” He got down on one knee and studied the ground.
“See anything?” Em asked.
“Stains. Something dripped here, but not necessarily brake fluid. Could just be oil. Whatever it was has been driven through and tracked around, so it would be hard to prove anything.”
“Sophie parks on this side of the lot all the time, and her car is always leaking something. If it wasn’t for Kiki, that thing would have been hauled off to the county yard months ago.”
He straightened, brushed his hands together. “Kiki?”
“She’s repaired Sophie’s Honda a couple of times. Put in some parts.”
“Kiki repairs cars?”
Too late, Em realized what she’d just done.
“That doesn’t mean she cut Marilyn’s brake line.”
“No, but it does mean she probably knows where to find it, what one looks like, and how to damage it.”
“You don’t even know if that’s brake fluid under there,” she said.
“I could call out a team to make sure, but there doesn’t appear to be a substantial amount of anything left. Whatever they found would be corrupted.”
“There has been a lot of traffic in and out of here all day long.”
“You look exhausted, Em.”
“Why, thank you.” She reached up and tried to smooth her hair into place. “I was awake almost all night.”
“Is Kiki here?”
“She was at the serving table when we left the yard.” She didn’t have to ask why he wanted to know.
“Is there anywhere I can talk to her alone?”
“The house is a zoo. How about Louie’s office? Just pop into the bar and tell Sophie you’ll be using it. I’ll send Kiki over.”
“By the way, we retrieved Marilyn’s phone and her laptop. When the phone dries out, hopefully it’ll work. Have you heard from her nephew yet?”
“Not yet. I found the number, and I’m going to leave him another message.”
Em thought Kiki would take the news that he wanted to see her better from her than to have Roland walk up and take her away from the party.
“I’ll go tell Kiki to meet you there,” she said.
As Em walked back to the yard alone, she saw a child lying on her back just inside Nat’s yard. Curious, she moved closer and discovered it wasn’t a child, it was Precious. Stretched out in the full sun, the hairdresser was spread-eagled in the grass with her skirt hiked up her thighs. The exposed skin on her legs, arms, and face radiated with sunburn.
Em stood over her. Precious was so still that Em couldn’t even tell if the woman was breathing.
“Precious?”
Nothing.
Not another one. Not another murder.
Em knelt down. “Precious!”
She shook Precious, who finally sputtered, started to sit up, and then flopped back onto the grass.
“Whazit? S’goin’ on?” Precious’s eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.
“Are you all right? You’re getting burned to a crisp.”
Precious mumbled something Em couldn’t understand and rolled onto her stomach, exposing a crushed Gatorade bottle beneath her. The cap was gone. Em reached for it and took a sniff of the contents. The smell of alcohol nearly knocked her out.
She knelt down beside Precious and rolled her onto her back again.
“Wake up.” Em shook her shoulders hard.
“Wazzz?”
Em held the bottle close to Precious’s nose. “Did you drink all of this?”
Precious’s eyes opened for a nano-second. She took one look at the bottle and smiled.
“Found it on the laaammmai. Gatoade shur packsh a mean punsh.”
Precious promptly passed out again, tongue out, head lolling to one side.
Em was just getting to her feet when Nat walked over. Together they stared down at Precious.
“What happened? Is she all right?” he asked.
“I hope so. Last time I saw her she was looking for bottled water. She found Flora’s Gatorade instead.”
“Uh-oh.”
“You know about Flora’s Gatorade?”
“This is Kauai. Everyone knows about everything.”
“Rumors keep the island afloat,” Em said.
Precious’s skin was turning redder by the minute.
“You think she’ll be all right?” Em made sure Kiki was still at the serving table across the yard.
“We should at least drag her into the shade,” Nat suggested. “Grab her legs. I’ll take her arms before she goes from medium to well done.”
19
Kiki Gets Grilled
Kiki filled her wine glass with ice and then reached beneath the serving table to grab a bottle of white wine out of the cooler she’d stashed there. She filled the glass, replaced the bottle, and when she looked across the yard she saw Em headed her way. Last time she saw Em, the young woman had been with Roland.
Em smiled at Kiki from across the serving table.
“Any news?” Kiki asked.
“Roland wants to talk to you.” Em kept her voice low.
“Me? Now?” Kiki’s pulse jumped. She took a sip of wine. “Something’s up. I can tell by the look on your face. Is this about Kimo?”
“No.”
“Surely Roland doesn’t think Kimo had anything to do with Marilyn’s accident.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
Em looked around and whispered, “Someone cut the brake line on the Mercedes.”
“What? Why would someone ruin such a great car?”
“Shh. Louie doesn’t know yet. Besides, that’s not the point. The point is that someone meant to harm Marilyn, and they succeeded.”
“So why does Roland want to talk to me about it?” She waved her hand toward the crowd around them. “Out of all these people?”
“Please, Kiki. Go talk to him, and try not to bad mouth Marilyn.”
Kiki grabbed both sides of her head. “He thinks I did it!”
Em shushed her again. “Calm down. He just wants to talk to you. I’m sure he’ll be talking to a lot of people today.”
“Like who?”
“Like me. He already talked to me.”
“Ha. He
always talks to you.”
“I’ll go with you if you want me to. Maybe that would be better. I can keep you from taking things from bad to worse.”
“Aha! Things are already bad? Things are bad for me?” Kiki wondered what Em knew that she wasn’t telling.
“That’s not what I meant,” Em said. “You were upset with Marilyn last night, and you two had it out right in front of everyone. Just talk to Roland, convince him you didn’t do anything rash.”
“Maybe I need our lawyer.”
“Kiki, don’t be ridiculous.”
“That’s not so ridiculous. Kimo’s already been arrested. What if Roland hauls me out of here on suspicion of murder? Are you going to tell me I’m being ridiculous then?”
“I think you’re making this bigger than it really is. You have nothing to hide, so go and talk to Roland. Get it over with.”
Kiki polished off her wine.
“All right,” she said.
“I’ll walk you over to Louie’s office.”
“I’ve got my big girl panties on,” Kiki said. “I can go by myself.”
AS KIKI CROSSED the parking lot, everything seemed surreal. Hawaiian music floated on the air around her, light mist was falling, creating a rainbow that arched over the mountains in the distance. She took a deep breath and shook out the skirt of her muumuu. Kimo was in enough trouble. No need for her to fall apart or get defensive with Roland. She reminded herself to smile as she opened the back door into Louie’s office.
“Hi, Roland.”
He was sitting on the corner of Louie’s desk, looking as delicious as a can of toasted macadamia nuts.
“Have a seat.” He waved her toward a chair in front of the desk. She sat.
Too late she realized he was perched above her, looking down on her from a power position. Her stomach flipped, flopped, and then somewhat settled.
“So.” She forced herself to smile. “What do you want to know?”
“What time did you leave here last night?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Around midnight maybe?”
“Was Marilyn already gone?”
“No, her car was still in the lot.”
“What time did you leave again?”
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