Burned

by Carol Higgins Clark

  “You like the beach?” Jimmy asked almost accusingly.

  “Oh, yes.” Regan gestured toward the ocean with her hands. “Of course with my light skin I can’t take too much sun.”

  Jimmy looked at her sternly.

  He thinks I’m an idiot, Regan decided. Oh, well. “I’m staying at the Waikiki Waters, and I’ll rent an umbrella so I can enjoy the surf and the sand.”

  Jimmy’s eyes finally showed some interest. “Waikiki Waters. A lady drowned there yesterday. She was wearing a very special lei that was stolen from the museum here.” He gestured with his fist toward the building behind them. “What was she doing with my lei?”

  “I couldn’t tell you, Jimmy,” Regan answered. “But I understand you’re the one to talk to about the history of the lei.” She took out her ID. “The hotel hired me to look into her death. The police think it was an accidental drowning. The hotel manager isn’t so sure. And the lei complicates matters.”

  “You like pineapple juice?”

  “I have to say that I don’t drink it very often, but I do enjoy a glass now and then.”

  “Good. Let’s go up to my museum. I will show you the lei, and we can talk. I started working here fifty years ago. Now it’s mine. It’s not as big as the Bishop Museum, but we have valuable shells.” He pushed down on the sand with his hands and managed to hoist himself to his feet. He was over six feet tall with a big belly, but his arms looked thick and strong.

  Regan followed the large man back up the stone steps and into the museum. It was an old building that smelled of the sand and the sea. Seashells of all shapes and sizes hung on the walls. In front of the register was a cabinet of shell jewelry for sale. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings were all on display. The girl at the desk nodded when he walked past her. Regan followed him down the hall. He pointed to his office. “Sit down in there,” he instructed Regan. “Jimmy be right back.”

  Regan did as she was told. So much for coming to Hawaii for a load of laughs and fun, she thought. But it was all right. New cases always excited her, and this one was no different. She’d rather be talking to a conchologist than sitting on the beach all day. I guess that’s why God made my skin burn so easily, she reasoned as she took a seat in Jimmy’s little office. A large poster of a shell adorned the wall behind his desk. It reminded Regan of the magnified picture of a dust mite hung in all its glory behind her allergist’s desk. Different strokes for different folks.

  Jimmy returned with two glasses of pineapple juice and a shell lei around his neck. Could it be the one that was around Dorinda Dawes’s neck yesterday morning? Regan accepted the drink, and Jimmy clinked her glass. “Aloha,” he toasted.

  The fresh juice was tangy and delicious. Regan could almost feel the sugar race through her system. She watched as Jimmy walked around the desk and lowered himself onto the chair.

  “Jimmy loves shells,” he began. “I grew up in Hawaii and spent many hours walking on the beach collecting them. I had a problem with my back when I was a child, so I couldn’t surf. But I liked to be on the beach. It made me feel good. If shells cut my feet, I didn’t care. Jellyfish bother me. They sting. Shells don’t hurt anyone. Now I own the Seashell Museum. Jimmy very proud.” Reverently he removed the lei from around his neck. “Thirty years ago this was stolen. I never dreamed I’d get it back. Here, take a look,” he offered Regan. “The police brought it back to me yesterday. I’ve missed it.”

  Regan put down her empty glass and took the lei in her hands. It was truly beautiful. The shells were intricate and gorgeous, and the colors running through them ranged from coral to white to beige. Some of them were slightly chipped, but the lei was even more beautiful than many expensive necklaces she had seen.

  “Jimmy knows what you’re thinking,” he said. “It’s like fine jewelry. The royal ladies liked them better than pearls.”

  “I heard the story that this one was made for Queen Liliuokalani and the other for her niece Princess Kaiulani.”

  “They loved these leis!” Jimmy answered vehemently. “They wore them in public all the time. The leis were donated to the Seashell Museum when it was founded in the 1920s. They hung side by side in a glass case until the burglary.”

  Regan caressed the shells. “It’s hard to believe this was worn so long ago.”

  “Then on a dead body.”

  Regan sighed. “On someone who had never been to Hawaii until three months ago. I can’t imagine where she found this lei. Can you tell me what happened when the lei was stolen?”

  Jimmy leaned back on his desk chair and looked up in the air. Regan noticed that the pencils in a mug on his desk had shell-shaped erasers. “We didn’t have an alarm system yet. But now we do!” he said with sudden force, then calmed down again. “Someone broke in and smashed the glass cases holding the precious shell leis. The thief also gathered up a lot of our famous seashells and threw them in a bag. A cop on patrol noticed a light coming from the museum and checked it out. The thief jumped in a stolen car and raced into town, the police in hot pursuit. The cops cornered him in an alley downtown, but he managed to escape. He dropped the bag when he climbed over the fence. If you can believe it, they never found him. Everything was recovered except this one lei, the lei that was worn by our last queen.”

  “You’re absolutely sure that this is it.”

  Once again he looked at Regan sternly. “Jimmy be right back.”

  Sometimes he starts a sentence with “I” and sometimes with “Jimmy,” Regan observed. I wonder how he decides when to refer to himself in the third person. Regan stared at the priceless lei in her hands. Where had Dorinda Dawes been when she placed it around her neck? Leis were given in a spirit of hospitality, love, and peace. Regan had read that the memory of having a lei placed on your shoulders should last forever. Forever didn’t turn out to be too long for Dorinda. She must have put the lei around her neck shortly before she died. No one had seen her with it that night. Was it possible that whoever stole the lei years ago knew Dorinda Dawes and had been the one to give it to her?

  Jimmy reentered the office. He handed Regan another shell lei. It was uncanny. Shell for shell, they were a perfect match, except for the fact that Liliuokalani’s lei had one small black lava bead.

  “Now you believe Jimmy?” he asked.

  Regan nodded. “I certainly do.”

  He took both leis from Regan and hung them over his beefy index finger. A dark expression came over his face. “If you find the guy who stole this lei, kept it from us for so many years, I will take care of him.” He banged the desk with his free hand. “Makes me so mad.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Regan assured him.

  He turned and stared down at Regan. She felt the bottom of his toga brush against her foot. “That lady who died,” he said, disapprovingly, “something tells me she stuck her nose too much in other people’s business.”

  “You could be right about that,” Regan noted as she shifted in her seat. “One final thing. I know that Princess Kaiulani’s lei is going to be auctioned off at the Princess Ball tomorrow night.”

  “Yes. Half the money goes to Aloha Artists, half goes to Jimmy’s Seashell Museum.”

  “That’s wonderful. I understand they’re asking you to auction off this other lei as well.”

  “Jimmy hasn’t decided yet. Those special shells have been away a long time. Maybe I should keep them here for a while. I’ve missed the lei so much, my heart broke every day for thirty years.” He paused. “But we could use the money.”

  “There’s always that. Will you be at the ball?”

  “Of course. Jimmy will sit at a special table. I will wear both leis around my neck. People will see how beautiful they are before the auction starts.”

  They could probably use a better-looking model, Regan reflected as she reached for her purse and made motions to leave. “Thank you, Jimmy, I’m sure I’ll see you at the ball.”

  “I think I will decide whether to let them auction Queen Lili
uokalani’s lei after I see how much Princess Kaiulani’s lei fetches.”

  “Makes sense,” Regan muttered.

  “Call Jimmy if you need me. I will be of help to you.”

  I wouldn’t be surprised, Regan mused. I wouldn’t be surprised at all.

  16

  T he Mixed Bag Tour group was finishing up their breakfast in the largest restaurant of the Waikiki Waters hotel. It was a busy place, filled with rattan furniture and tropical plants. A large waterfall cascaded down one wall. Tourists were lining up for the buffet of pancakes, eggs, and fresh Hawaiian fruit that tasted much better than the fruit back home. Gert and Ev always managed to secure a large table in the section closest to the open doors that looked out on the ocean. Ned had already gotten up and down a number of times to refill his plate.

  “I’ve got to have the energy to surf,” he explained, more to himself than anyone at the table. “Man, am I pumped.” He picked up his spoon and dug into a bowl of oatmeal.

  “I hope you all have a lovely day,” Ev said. “We’ll meet back here for sunset cocktails and share our experiences.”

  Betsy pursed her lips. “Bob and I won’t discuss our writing, and that’s what we’ll be doing today. What we write is much too personal.”

  What are you going to do if that book ever sees the light of day? Ev wondered. Won’t it still be just as personal? I’d love to silence her. She belongs in the rain in Hudville. But Ev just smiled. “That’s all right. We’ll just enjoy being together. I want the three of you who are surfing today to please be careful and return to the safety and comfort of the Waikiki Waters.”

  “This place isn’t so safe,” Joy declared as she picked at the dollop of cottage cheese on her plate. She wanted to look good in her bathing suit for Zeke. She had a nice figure but wished she’d gone to the gym more before this trip. She hadn’t had the motivation. Now she did. Too late. Washboard abs were thousands and thousands of crunches down the road. Her curly blond hair was pulled on top of her head, and she was wearing shorts and a little pink top that she’d bought at the one semi-hip store in Hudville. Maybe I’ll go shopping today, she thought. Pick out a new outfit to wear tonight. After I catch a few rays.

  “What do you mean it isn’t so safe here?” Gert asked. She and Ev had a practiced schoolmarm tone they used when they wanted to express disapproval to one of their group members. Ev was better at it than Gert.

  Joy looked up from her plate and stared at Gert. Sometimes she got the twins mixed up. She thought their matching outfits were a bit much for women their age. Today they didn’t have on their usual muumuus. That was a surprise. They were wearing stretch pants and long-sleeved shirts, which seemed a bit odd. It was eighty degrees, for God’s sake. “Aren’t you hot?” Joy replied.

  “Hot?”

  “Why don’t you have your muumuus on?”

  “When we go in and out of hotels, inspecting them for the good of the future residents of Hudville who make this trip, we don’t want to catch a cold,” Gert explained.

  “Air conditioning can be so drafty,” Ev agreed. “And the last thing I need is to get on the plane home with a cold. Makes you feel like your head is going to explode.”

  “You’re darn right,” her sister nodded as she bit into a large pastry. Her mouth half full, she realized she hadn’t yet gotten an answer from Joy. “What do you mean this place isn’t so safe?” she asked, holding a napkin in front of her mouth as she spoke with her mouth full. The pastry wasn’t chewed enough to swallow, but Gert couldn’t wait to ask the question.

  “I heard things last night.”

  “Like what?” the twins asked in unison.

  “Like the woman who drowned might have been murdered.”

  Gert and Ev both inhaled sharply. “Who says that?” they both asked at once.

  The group all had fixed their gazes on Joy. Ned looked up from his oatmeal. Artie, who had been staring out at the water, finally started paying attention. Francie, who had been applying makeup, put her lipstick down on the table with a dramatic flourish. As usual, Bob and Betsy’s expressions didn’t change. Well, maybe Bob’s did a little. Sometimes Joy wondered if they were alive. Now, as the whole group stared at her, she realized she liked the attention. They don’t think I’m such a baby anymore, she told herself proudly. “I’m not at liberty to tell you.”

  “Why do they think she might have been murdered?” Ev asked, her expression steely.

  “Because the hotel has had some weird stuff going on. Things going wrong. They think there’s a phantom who is pulling pranks, and just maybe this phantom is getting a little more dangerous. There have been a couple of incidents-problems with food, and people who had a few drinks and ended up much more hungover than they should have been. Now maybe the phantom is stepping things up!”

  Gert and Ev looked at each other in horror.

  “They made me promise not to say anything,” Joy added.

  Artie rolled his eyes. Joy annoyed him because she clearly considered him an old person. “Then why did you? That’s bad karma.”

  “It’s ridiculous,” Ned protested. “This is a good hotel, and the manager does a great job. Dorinda Dawes drowned. It’s that simple.”

  Gert cleared her throat. “It seems to me that rumors and troublemakers abound. They are everywhere. This is a lovely hotel, and we shouldn’t let other people’s idle gossip destroy it. Perhaps people were hungover because they had way too much of a good thing. Ever think of that?”

  Joy shook her head. “I heard one lady had a Shirley Temple and threw up all over the place.”

  Ned looked at his watch. “ ‘Surf’s up!’ as they say. I’m disappointed to see that only two of the Lucky Seven are coming with me. Next time I hope to do better. Gert and Ev, you shouldn’t be worrying about other hotels. As you say, this is a good place. The renovation made it even better.” He laughed. “After all, I was hired. Will would be disappointed if he thought you were checking out other places and thinking of going elsewhere. You should come up north with us today. It’s a beautiful drive.”

  Gert shook her head. “We’re always looking out for the good of the future trip-takers from Hudville. It’s up to us to make sure there are many. The funds are not limitless, you know. Ev and I are worried that many people will be disappointed because they won’t get to come to Hawaii.”

  “That’ll be hard for you two,” Francie said as she inspected herself in her compact mirror. “After going on these trips for years, how will you cope when the money is gone?”

  “We have inner strength,” Gert replied.

  “Inner strength coupled with the fact that some of the other elderly church members are thinking of leaving some of their money to the Mixed Bag Tour group,” Ev added.

  “I didn’t know that,” Francie exclaimed. “Who plans to be so generous? Because let me tell you, if they’re in the Praise the Rain group, I haven’t met them.”

  “I can’t divulge that information,” Ev replied quietly. “The potential benefactors wish to remain anonymous.”

  “That I’ll never understand,” Francie announced as she picked a piece of mascara from under her eyelid. “I just have two questions about them: Are any of them single? And how close to the end are they?”

  Ned laughed. “Francie, find someone your own age to pick on.”

  Francie snapped her compact shut. “There are no good ones left my age.”

  Get me out of here, Joy thought. This is depressing. I’m only twenty-one.

  “You know,” Francie continued, “now that I’ve been on this trip and am out of the running to be in the lottery, I’d like to see what the other hotels have to offer because I would like to come back. Maybe I should go with you today,” she suggested to the twins.

  “Francie!” Ned protested. “It’s you, me, and Artie together today.”

  But he didn’t have to worry about losing one of his charges. Both twins looked as if they’d been hit in the head. Ev reached over and put her hand on Gert’
s. “You see, Francie,” she began patiently, “today is what we call our ‘twin time.’ Just the two of us together.”

  “It’s almost as if we speak our own language,” Gert added. “No one else understands it.”

  “I guess the answer is no,” Francie said.

  “That’s right.”

  “But don’t you two live together at home?” Francie asked rhetorically. “If that were me and my sister, we’d be on each other’s nerves. Working together at the store, living together, traveling together. Sheesh!”

  “We’ve been blessed with a special bond,” Gert said, trying to make it clear. “We’re not just sisters. We’re best buds.”

  I’m going to be sick, Joy thought.

  “Francie, you’ll have a great time with us,” Ned said. He looked insulted.

  Francie, who recovered in no time, smiled flirtatiously. “I know I will.”

  They all got up from the table. Bob and Betsy headed back to their room without saying good-bye. Joy headed for the beach as fast as she could. Ned, Artie, and Francie went out front to look for the van that was picking them up. Gert and Ev proclaimed they were going back to their room to brush and floss before heading out, and waved good-bye.

  At the elevator bank Gert looked at Ev and winked. When they got up to the door of their room, Ev pulled out her key. “I thought we’d never get out of there,” she said.

  “Oh, I know it. We need our privacy today, don’t we, sister?” Gert asked.

  “We sure do.”

  The door next to them closed, and they both turned with a start. A blond-haired woman they’d seen a few times in the last week nodded hello to them. They had noticed her going out with a dark-haired woman last night. “Hello,” the twins greeted her sweetly.

  “Hello,” she answered politely.

  Once inside their room, they looked at each other nervously.

  “I’ll be relieved when our special project is finished,” Ev admitted.

  “You said it. But we’re about to cross the finish line.”

  Ev smiled. “And nothing’s going to stop us.”