Burned

by Carol Higgins Clark

  “Aloha, baby,” Jack answered.

  Regan smiled again. “Aloha. I just arrived. The sky is bright blue. I can spot a row of palm trees swaying in the breeze, a pagoda in a garden below, and I really wish you were with me.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What’s happening in New York?”

  “The snow is coming down fast and furious. I had a couple of drinks with the guys after work. People are out on the streets having a great time, throwing snowballs and pulling kids on sleds. Someone already built a snowman that is standing guard outside my building. But he doesn’t have much to do. Crime goes down during snowstorms.”

  Regan felt a pang in her heart. “I can’t believe I’m missing all that,” she said wistfully.

  “I can’t believe you are, either.”

  Regan pictured Jack’s spacious homey apartment that was so Jack with its handsome leather couches and beautiful Persian rugs. He had told Regan he wanted to make his place more than just a bachelor pad because he never knew when he’d meet the right girl. “I was afraid it might never happen,” he admitted. “But with you this is finally the way it’s supposed to be.”

  “Maybe there will be another snowstorm next weekend,” Regan joked. “I’ll just be sure to arrive ahead of it.”

  “Regan, have a good time with Kit. There will be other snowstorms, I promise. And believe me, a lot of people in this city would give anything to trade places with you right now. Not everyone thinks this is fun.”

  By now Regan was at the baggage claim. People were in shorts and sleeveless shirts. It was late afternoon, and there was a laid-back, peaceful feeling in the air.

  “I’ll be fine,” Regan said. “Kit met some people out here who we’ll hook up with. There’s even a guy she likes.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh is right. But this one sounds promising. He worked on Wall Street and retired to Hawaii at age thirty-five.”

  “Maybe I should run a check on him,” Jack suggested. He laughed, but there was a note of seriousness in his voice. “He sounds too good to be true.” Jack was fond of Kit and felt protective of her. A couple of the guys Kit had gotten involved with since Jack had been on the scene had been real lulus. He wanted to make sure whoever she dated was on the level.

  “It won’t be long before I learn his name and hear every detail of his life that Kit knows already. I’ll fill you in. If you find something out about him that’s not so great, she’ll want to be told. She learned her lesson from that last loser she went out with.”

  “She sure did,” Jack agreed.

  They were referring to a guy Kit had several dates with who failed to mention that he was getting married and moving to Hong Kong.

  “Hey, Regan,” Jack continued. “I have a buddy out there in the Honolulu police force. I’ll give him a call and let him know you’re there. Maybe he’ll have some suggestions about what to do or where to go.”

  “That’s great. What’s his name?” Regan asked as she pulled her suitcase off the carousel. She was always amazed at how connected Jack was. He knew people everywhere. And everyone respected him.

  “Mike Darnell. I got to know him when some of the guys and I used to go there on vacation.”

  “I’m about to grab a cab to the hotel,” Regan said as she wheeled her luggage outside.

  “Don’t have too good of a time.”

  “How could I? You’re not here.”

  “I love you, Regan.”

  “I love you, too, Jack.”

  “Be careful, Regan.”

  “I will.”

  The cabdriver tossed Regan’s suitcase into the trunk. Regan got in the back, and they sped off for the Waikiki Waters. So much for being careful, Regan thought as the taxi driver dodged in and out of traffic on the congested highway. Regan found it odd that the road was called Interstate H1. Where were the other states?

  Six thousand miles away Jack hung up and looked around his apartment. “This place is so lonesome without her,” he said aloud. But he cheered himself with the thought that she’d be there with him in one week. So what was that nagging feeling that came over him? He tried to shrug it off. He was a worrier when it came to Regan. And now he had a particularly good reason. Whenever she was with Kit, something odd always happened.

  Jack stood and walked over to the window. The snow was piling up quickly. He walked across the room to his desk, got out his address book, and dialed his friend in the Honolulu Police Department. But the conversation only made him feel worse. Regan hadn’t told him anything about the drowning of a hotel employee at the Waikiki Waters. There was no way Kit wouldn’t have mentioned it to her. Regan knows me too well, he thought.

  “Mike, would you do me a favor and give Regan a call?”

  “Of course, Jack. I’ve got to run into a meeting. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Standing by his window, Jack watched the snow coming down on the darkened street. I’ll feel so much better when she’s Mrs. Reilly, he thought. He turned, went into his room, and lay on the bed.

  Back in Waikiki, people couldn’t stop talking about the death of Dorinda Dawes.

  4

  K it stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her medium-sized frame. It was five-thirty, and she’d just come up from a late afternoon swim in one of the many pools at the Waikiki Waters Playground and Resort. After the morning’s excitement a lot of guests at the hotel, including Kit, had the jitters about taking a dip in the ocean. The pool had been overflowing with swimmers.

  Regan should be here soon, Kit thought happily. It was a miracle that she’d been able to get a reservation. She’d gotten one of the last seats on an afternoon flight from Los Angeles. Hundreds of Californians had decided to head for Hawaii when they couldn’t travel east.

  There had been a lot of buzz at the Waikiki Waters about Dorinda Dawes. It seemed she had caused quite a stir in the three months that she’d worked at the hotel. The Christmas newsletter was more gossipy than most people liked, and she had run around taking pictures of tourists who didn’t necessarily want to be in the paper. “You loved her or hated her,” Kit heard more than once in the last few hours.

  Kit bent over and towel-dried her shoulder-length blond hair. Straightening up, she ran a comb through it and then flicked on the little television set next to the sink. I’d love to have a TV in my bathroom at home, she thought as she applied a dab of styling cream to her golden locks.

  The local news came on, and a female reporter was standing on the beach outside Kit’s hotel room.

  “The body of forty-eight-year-old Dorinda Dawes, a recently hired employee here at the Waikiki Waters, washed ashore this morning. The police believe it was an accidental drowning. She was seen leaving a party here at the hotel last night at about eleven o’clock. Dawes was alone, and employees say she liked to take the beach path back to her apartment building, which was almost a mile away, but she often stopped to spend some quiet time out on the jetty. Police suspect that she slipped and fell into the water. The currents here can be very strong, and there was a strong undertow last night.

  “What is puzzling detectives is that she was wearing a lei around her neck made of old shells that are more valuable than pearls. Sources say it is a historic lei that was stolen from the Seashell Museum more than thirty years ago and is a match to the lei that belonged to Princess Kaiulani, a member of the Hawaiian royal family who died tragically in 1899 when she was only twenty-three. She was caught in a rainstorm while horseback riding on the Big Island and contracted a cold which lingered until her death. Princess Kaiulani’s lei will be auctioned off at the ‘Be a Princess’ Ball here at the hotel on Saturday night. The lei around Dorinda’s neck belonged to Princess Kaiulani’s aunt, Queen Liliuokalani, who was queen for only two years when she was forced to abdicate and the monarchy was dissolved. No one at the hotel recalls ever seeing Dorinda wear this royal lei, and everyone we’ve spoken with says she was not wearing it at the hotel last night. Descendants of the roy
al family donated both leis to the Seashell Museum when it opened. Both leis were stolen in the robbery, but the princess’s lei was quickly recovered. So the question is, how did Dorinda Dawes, who has lived in Hawaii only since October, get hold of the queen’s lei that has been missing all these years?”

  Regan will be all over this, Kit thought.

  The phone on the wall rang. That’s another thing I’d like to have at home, Kit thought. A phone in the bathroom. She sighed and answered.

  “Kit?”

  “Yes.” Kit’s heart quickened at the sound of the masculine voice. Was it who she thought it was?

  “It’s Steve.”

  Kit’s eyes brightened. How could they not? Steve Yardley was about as eligible as a guy could get. A handsome thirty-five-year-old retiree from Wall Street who moved to Hawaii when he got sick of the urban rat race. He wasn’t looking for a second career like so many others who made the move. He thought he might eventually do some consulting, but he had plenty of money and was enjoying this chilling-out period in his life. He’d only been in Hawaii six months. Long enough, though, to buy a house in an exclusive development in the hills east of Waikiki with a stunning view of the ocean. Kit smiled as she chirped, “Hi, Steve. What’s going on?”

  “I’m sitting here enjoying my view of Diamond Head from my lanai, and I thought you would make it even better.”

  I could faint, Kit thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was glad to see that the little bit of color she’d allowed herself to acquire looked good. She also silently thanked God for the snowstorm that was crippling the eastern United States. “You do, do you?” she said and immediately wished she’d thought of a wittier response.

  “Yes, I do. I’m so glad you had to stay this weekend. Why were you headed back so soon anyway?”

  “It’s my grandmother’s eighty-fifth birthday. We were going to have a big party on Saturday,” Kit answered, thinking that he had already asked her this question last night when they’d met at one of the hotel bars. A lot of people who couldn’t fly out had crowded in, and there was a real party atmosphere, with drinks flowing freely.

  “My grandmother is eighty-five, too,” Steve said incredulously. “It sounds as if we have a lot in common.”

  Is this guy for real? Kit wondered.

  “And she’s dying for me to settle down,” he added with a laugh.

  “That we definitely have in common,” Kit added with a wry note in her voice. “And now my best friend is getting married, which is really getting Granny worked up. As a matter of fact, Regan will be arriving soon.”

  “Really?”

  “No, Reilly.”

  “What?”

  Kit laughed. “Her name is Regan Reilly. She’s a private investigator in Los Angeles. She’s certainly going to be interested in what’s going on here at the Waikiki Waters. Did you hear that the woman who was taking pictures in the bar last night drowned in front of the hotel and was wearing a stolen lei? Regan will be all over that. She can’t help herself when it comes to investigations.”

  “I just saw it on the news.” Steve coughed. “Excuse me.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes. Anyway, would you and your friend Regan Reilly like to come over for a sunset drink? I’ll come and fetch the fetching lasses, and later I’ll take you both to dinner.”

  Kit paused. For the briefest of moments. She and Regan were planning to catch up tonight, but they’d have plenty of time for that. Regan would understand. Heck, she was already engaged. To turn down a chance to get to know Steve, who was handsome, eligible, and rich, was not making the best use of her time. She thought of her granny’s face and practically blurted, “Why don’t you come get us in an hour?”

  “I’ll be there,” he answered and hung up the phone.

  5

  W ill Brown, the manager of the Waikiki Waters, was in a sweat. His job was to keep the resort running smoothly, keep the guests happy, and now, since the renovation, add new and exciting features to life at the upscale vacation spot. It had been his idea to hire someone like Dorinda Dawes to liven things up. Well, she certainly managed to do that, he thought as he sat in his office just steps away from the sprawling front desk. He could have had a big office in a suite overlooking the water, but that was not for him. Will liked to keep his finger on the pulse of the whole operation, which for him was where guests checked in and out. Most people were happy, but he didn’t need to put his ear to the wall to hear the complaints-some valid, some bogus.

  “I found mold growing under the bed. It looked like my kid’s science experiment,” one woman had charged. “I think I should get a discount.”

  What was she doing under the bed? Will wondered.

  “I ordered a soft-boiled egg two days in a row. Both times my egg came out hard-boiled,” another had cried. “I go on vacation to enjoy myself. I hate the smell of hard-boiled eggs! I just can’t win.”

  Will was thirty-five and had been raised in a small town in the Midwest. When he was in kindergarten, his parents took a trip to Hawaii. For all the talk and planning, it seemed as if they were going to Oz. They brought him back a Hawaiian print bathing suit that he treasured and brought in to show-and-tell at school. He wore it for a couple of seasons until the seams burst at a pool party. Will’s dream had been to visit Hawaii, and after torturing his parents for years, they finally took him and his sister to paradise when he graduated from grade school. With the warm ocean breezes, the fragrant flowers, the swaying palm trees, and the beautiful sandy beaches, he was hooked. He returned after college graduation, took a job as a bellboy at the Waikiki Waters, and worked his way up to manager of the hotel.

  He never, ever wanted to leave.

  But now his job could be in jeopardy. He had pushed for the renovation, which was expensive and could take years to recoup. He had brought in Dorinda Dawes, and she turned out to be a troublemaker. And then she drowned at the hotel. Not very good for PR. He had to make things better. But how?

  One thing that had to go well was the “Be a Princess” Ball on Saturday night. The gala event would bring a lot of attention to the hotel, and it had to be the right kind. It was the hotel’s first big black-tie affair since the renovation. Five hundred people were expected, and they’d gone all out with the food, flowers, and decorations. Convincing the Seashell Museum to auction the royal lei was a real coup. If the event bombed, the buck stopped on Will’s desk.

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A decent-looking guy, he had reddish hair that had been thinning of late, and pale blue eyes. He always had a ready smile, but sometimes it appeared a little too forced. That was probably a result of spending so many years in the service industry. You had to smile no matter how much people complained.

  The coffee cup on his desk was half full. He took a sip and swallowed hard. It was cold. He’d been drinking it all day. With all the guests calling and the news reporters and the police, he hadn’t eaten a thing. Everyone was asking about the stolen royal lei around Dorinda’s neck that had once belonged to the last queen of Hawaii. Nervously he kept drinking the now bitter brew-which only made things worse.

  Will was relieved that the police ruled the drowning an accident, but he didn’t believe it. Dorinda Dawes had gotten under too many people’s skin. But what could he do? Was it better to leave well enough alone and hope the whole incident blew over quickly?

  He couldn’t do that. Something was going on at the hotel. There had been too many problems lately. Misplaced luggage. Purses gone missing. Toilets overflowing, not due to the call of nature. Guests getting sick after eating but not enough of them to cause too much of a stir. And now this: the death of Dorinda. Will felt a knot in his stomach.

  He wanted to get to the bottom of things, but he didn’t quite know how. The hotel hired consultants to call in and make reservations and then rate the clerks on their efficiency and friendliness. The consulting company also sent people in to act as guests and rate the overall service. The
resort had a security staff, but Will felt he needed to find a professional investigator who could snoop around without everyone knowing and find out the dirt. Find out the dirt on everyone except him. Will grabbed the coffee cup and drained it.

  He stood and stretched his arms up in the air. He needed to move. He went over to the sliding glass door that looked out on a little secluded grassy area outside his office. Feeling restless, he turned and walked out of his office, past his secretary’s desk, and out to the reception area where he spotted the pretty blond girl he had helped yesterday. Her name was Kit. She was supposed to check out, but her flight was canceled because of the storm in the East. All of the rooms were booked, but he had managed to move things around so she could keep hers. She was nice and sweet and seemed to be the type of client they liked to have at the Waikiki Waters. A front desk clerk was handing her a room key.

  “Will,” Kit called to him.

  He put on his best smile and walked over. The open-air lobby was bustling. People were checking in and out, taxi doors were slamming, bellboys were loading up their carts. The air was filled with excitement and possibility.

  Kit was standing with an attractive dark-haired woman who had a suitcase at her side.

  “Regan,” Kit said. “This is Will, and he’s the manager of the hotel. He was so nice to me yesterday. He let me keep my room when they were all booked up. Wait till you see it. It’s great.”

  Will extended his hand. “Will Brown. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Regan Reilly. Thanks for taking care of my friend,” she said and smiled.

  “We do our best.” Almost by rote he added, “And where are you from, Regan?”

  “She’s a private investigator in Los Angeles,” Kit announced proudly.

  “Kit!” Regan protested.

  “I just know that she’s going to be interested in the story of that lei Dorinda Dawes was wearing when she died.”

  Will felt the blood rise in his face. “May I buy you two ladies a drink?” he offered.