“That she was. I saw the way she’d act with Will. She’d breeze past me and then saunter into his office with a big smile. I don’t think he bought into it, but he was stuck. He’d signed a six-month contract with her and wanted to make it work.
“Did Will ever mention anything about firing her?” Regan asked quickly.
“No! But I know Will. He couldn’t have been happy with people’s reaction to Dorinda. He wanted someone to bring people together with the newsletter, not alienate them. I shouldn’t be talking about Will. All I’m saying is yes. Dorinda was a flirt, and she was attractive.”
Interesting, Regan thought. I’ve had the feeling all along that there’s something Will is not telling me. “Did you read the article she wrote for the magazine Spirits in Paradise?”
“No. That reminds me: Now I have to find somebody else to take pictures at the ball.” She jotted down a note on a Post-it on her desk.
Business is business, Regan thought. “Apparently Dorinda walked home every night. Did you know that?”
“Yes. Her apartment is not too far from here, in Waikiki. She took the path along the beach. When it rained, she was always looking for someone to give her a ride. I did once. She barely thanked me. And I live in the opposite direction.”
“I wonder what the story is with her apartment now.”
“Her cousin is on his way here to clean it out.”
“Her cousin is coming here?” Regan repeated.
“Yes. He called after you left before.”
“Where does he live?”
“Venice Beach, California.”
“Oh, really. I live in the Hollywood Hills.”
“Well, he’s flying in today, and Will’s parents will be here in the morning.”
“Will’s parents? He mentioned he was looking forward to his wife coming back this weekend.”
“He was and she is. That’s the problem. She’s been gone since before Christmas, and when she gets back tonight, she’ll hear all this good news. Like her mother-in-law will be arriving in no time flat. Not that Will’s mom isn’t a nice lady but…”
“I understand,” Regan said quickly.
“I’m glad you do because I don’t think Will’s wife will.” Janet laughed. “Poor guy. He has so much going on. He’s got to get through this ball. He’s going to put his parents up in a room here.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Regan said.
“You wouldn’t believe what a good idea it is. Of course that means I’ll be dealing with Mama Brown. And I have to work this weekend at the ball.”
“Things will be busy,” Regan commented.
“They sure will.”
“Janet, did you ever hear that Dorinda was afraid of the ocean?”
“No. But as they said on the news, she did like to sit on the jetty at night. It can be so beautiful and peaceful sitting in the moonlight. I told her more than once to be careful out there by herself. She never listened. She said it calmed her down after a busy day. The currents are strong. Maybe she slipped and fell.”
“Maybe,” Regan agreed as she jotted down a few notes. “Janet, you see a lot of what goes on around here.”
“I hear it, too. I feel like the president of the complaint department.”
“Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Dorinda?”
“Plenty of people felt like strangling her, but not killing her. I think you know what I mean.”
“I suppose I do. Dorinda started working here just after the renovation was complete, and Will said that the problems around the hotel started soon after that. I know she’s not here to defend herself, but I wonder if she could have had anything to do with the trouble at the hotel.”
“Hard to say,” Janet responded. “We hired a lot of new employees at that time.”
“Could I get a list of those people?”
“Sure. I’ll have that ready for you in a few hours. I really don’t think Dorinda could have been behind the trouble. She would have had to sneak around, and she couldn’t help but make her presence known. When Dorinda was in a room, you knew it. Some of the problems we had originated in the kitchen. Some in the public bathrooms. Some in the guest rooms. Whoever is behind it must have a master key. I suppose Dorinda could have gotten one. It’ll be interesting to see if anything happens now that she’s gone.”
The phone on Janet’s desk rang. She rolled her eyes. “I bet this is about the ball.”
“I’ll get out of your way.” Regan closed her notebook and stood. “I’ll take a look at everything in here.” The manila envelope was in her hands.
“I’ll be in all day. Give me a call or stop by if you need anything.”
“Thanks very much,” Regan said and walked out of the office and into the bustling open-air reception area. A poster for the Princess Ball was propped on an easel next to the concierge desk. SOLD OUT! was written across the top. ACCEPTING NAMES FOR THE WAITING LIST.
Oh, Dorinda, Regan thought. Maybe not the way you wanted, but you certainly have made your mark.
24
B ob and Betsy were in their room sitting together at the desk where their laptop computer was open and running. Handwritten notes were scattered all over the bed. A pot of room service coffee was at their side, and Bob had just proposed a way to do research for their chapter of the relationship book.
“I don’t know,” Betsy hesitated. “It doesn’t seem that exciting to go out in the world and pretend to be Bonnie and Clyde.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Not at all.”
Bob took off his glasses and used the bottom of his T-shirt to give them a good cleaning. It was something he did many times a day, more out of habit than the fact that his glasses were fogged. “I think it would help our marriage.”
Betsy looked aghast. “What’s wrong with our marriage?”
There was a pause. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Nothing that can’t be fixed with a little old-fashioned excitement.”
“By acting like we’re criminals?”
“Yes. If we’re writing a chapter about how to keep a relationship exciting, then we should offer a smorgasbord of ideas to keep the fires burning. Pretending to be devilish is one of the choices.”
“That’s what Halloween is for,” Betsy replied as her face developed a pinched look. She was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with her husband. Ever since he’d gotten into a chat with that book publisher who wandered into town looking for a couple from Hudville to write a chapter for his book, Bob had started to go nuts. The publisher had traveled the country looking for couples from all different backgrounds to share the ways they kept excitement in their relationship. Bob had leaped at the chance for him and Betsy to represent the rainy states. The only problem was, he was not exciting in the least. Neither was she, but that was his fault. He’d made her boring.
As Betsy looked down and folded her hands, she thought longingly of her college boyfriend Roger. Where was he now? If only they had ended up together. If only he hadn’t met that other girl who got her hooks into him during a semester at sea. Betsy couldn’t go because she got seasick. Roger said he’d go for five months and get in enough cruising for a lifetime. Huh! I should have gone and taken Dramamine, Betsy reflected. Her mother had tried to comfort her by singing “Que Sera Sera,” but it only made things worse. Then she’d heard that Roger and Nautical Nancy had had their reception on a boat.
If I’d married Roger, she mused, I wouldn’t be living in depressing, soggy Hudville. If I were vacationing with Roger in Hawaii, we’d be out on the beach with a mai tai in our hands instead of sitting in the hotel room thinking about ridiculous ways to liven up other people’s lives. Roger and I would have paid for the trip ourselves instead of having to win a lottery to get here. If only…
How had she stood thirty years with boring Bob? It was impossible to believe. He’d had the same menial job for twenty-eight years in a store that sold drain pipes. Business was brisk in Hudville. The
book publisher had spotted the store when he was driving through town, and the rest, as they say, was history.
Now Bob put his hand on her thigh. Inwardly she cringed.
“Itsy Bitsy?” he whispered softly, using his nickname for her.
“What?”
“It’s important that we write this chapter.”
“Why?”
“It’ll make our lives more exciting. When the book is published, we’ll travel with the other couples in the book. It could change our lives. But most important, it’s a gift for our children.”
“Our children?” Betsy’s voice went up an octave. “How is it a gift for our children?”
“Our children are wonderful, but they’re a little dull. I don’t know how they got that way. I just don’t understand it. They’ll need this guidebook. They are both married, thank God, but if they don’t liven up, I’m afraid their spouses will leave them.”
He must be on drugs, Betsy thought. That’s the only answer. “Jeffrey and Celeste are wonderful people,” she cried indignantly.
“You never hear a peep out of them.”
“Yes, but they have deep thoughts.”
“Deep thoughts don’t get you anywhere unless you share them.” Bob patted her thigh again. “Now, I was thinking. Little Joy says there are problems going on around the hotel. Why don’t we walk around the hotel today and pretend we’re the criminals? Let’s just see what trouble we might be able to find.”
“Around the hotel?”
“Yes. The hotel is having problems. If we think like criminals, maybe we’ll figure out what’s going on. It’s called role-playing. Who knows? We could end up being heroes. It’s just a little game.”
At this point Betsy felt it was useless to protest. “All right,” she relented. “But only if we start at the bar.”
25
R egan passed the sign for the Princess Ball, with Princess Kaiulani dressed in native garb smiling down on the hotel guests, then went over to the house phone and dialed her room. There was no answer. She then pulled out her cell phone and called Kit’s cell. Kit answered after three rings.
“Regan, I’m out on a boat!”
“Where?”
“In back of the hotel. I met some people after breakfast who were going out for a quick sail. I’ll be back in a little while. Steve is coming over at lunchtime. Let’s meet in the bar by the big pool at noon.”
“Sounds good.”
Regan walked out to the smallest of the Waters’ five pools and took a seat in the shade of a large striped umbrella. Elvis was crooning “Blue Hawaii” from poolside speakers. Regan pulled out the newsletters from the envelope Janet had given her and retrieved the notebook from her purse.
Well, it was clear enough that Dorinda Dawes could make enemies. Regan couldn’t believe that even her mother had an unpleasant experience with her. Regan clicked her pen and started jotting down a few notes.
Dorinda had started working at the hotel in mid October. The problems at the hotel had started around that time. I’m sure Dorinda would have loved to expose the culprit on the front page of the newsletter, Regan thought. She unfolded a sheet of legal paper that was behind the newsletters. It was a handwritten list of the hotel’s problems.
Regan’s eyes scanned the offenses. Leaky pipes. Toilets overflowing caused by foreign objects not meant to be flushed, such as full tubes of suntan lotion. Oversalting of food. Complaints from guests that small convenience items were missing from their rooms: toothpaste, body lotion, the coffeemaker. A faucet turned on in an empty room that caused a flood. Jars of bugs opened and left in guests’ rooms. Complaints from numerous guests that one of their sandals or sneakers went missing from their room.
A thief who steals one shoe. Regan pondered what that meant, if anything. The Waikiki Waters had a phantom who was clearly out to annoy.
How does someone get away with this for three months without being discovered? Regan wondered. Maybe there’s more than one phantom. This could be the work of several people.
A tan young waitress in a short, flowered shift approached Regan. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“An iced tea, please.”
“Certainly.”
Could Dorinda Dawes have stumbled onto something? Regan wondered. Did someone murder her because she found out who was causing trouble at the hotel? It was certainly possible.
The big Princess Ball was tomorrow night. If someone was trying to tarnish the reputation of the hotel, the Princess Ball was a perfect target. With all the press that would be there, as well as more than five hundred people from all over Hawaii, anything negative that happened would be written about, discussed, and rehashed for days.
She picked up the Waikiki Waters newsletter that had been published in early January, the last one Dorinda had worked on. Pictures of parties held at the hotel in the month of December filled the pages. The men looked great, but the pictures of most of the women were very unflattering. Everything from wide-open mouths to messy hair to clothing somehow out of place. One photo in particular caught Regan’s eye. A woman was laughing with her head thrown back. The camera seemed to have been pointed up her nose. She was standing next to Will. Regan read the name below.
It was Kim, Will’s wife.
The newsletter had been printed when Will was on vacation, Regan realized. Dorinda’s photo captions included descriptions like “only twice divorced,” “recently slim,” and “planning marriage number four.” She glanced through the rest of the newsletters, and they all seemed fairly tame-obviously Will’s influence.
Oh, Dorinda, Regan thought. It does seem that you had a talent for striking a nerve-a lot of nerves. But did you get someone upset enough to kill you?
Every instinct told Regan that the answer was yes. But who? And what did the shell lei around Dorinda’s neck signify?
26
J azzy awoke in one of the downstairs guest rooms at Steve’s house. It was ten-thirty. She and Steve had stayed up until nearly four o’clock shooting the breeze. She got out of bed, wrapped herself in a luxurious white terrycloth bathrobe, and went into the spacious marble bathroom that was bigger than many people’s bedrooms.
First she brushed her teeth with the toothbrush she now left in residence at Steve’s house, and then splashed water on her face. “That helps,” she murmured as she patted her face dry with an Egyptian cotton towel. Staring at herself in the mirror, she again analyzed her cute, almost tomboyish reflection. She knew that guys didn’t feel threatened by her and were comfortable having her around. Work it, baby, she told herself.
Her cell phone rang in the bedroom. She hurried over and checked the caller ID. It was her employer, Claude Mott.
“Good morning!” she answered.
“Where are you?” Claude asked. Jazzy could picture Claude with his wispy goatee and head of thinning gray and black hair. He was slight in stature but had been a powerhouse at buying and selling companies. Now he wanted to stretch the left side of his brain by designing Hawaiian shirts, bathing suits, and muumuus. His first line would debut in the gift bags at the “Be a Princess” Ball, the ball that Claude Mott Enterprises had helped to underwrite.
“I’m at Steve’s house. I stayed here last night, and today I’m going over to the Waikiki Waters to do some work on the gift bags. How’s everything in San Francisco?”
“It’s a business trip. Business is business is business. Deals, deals, deals. That’s why I have my house in Hawaii, so I can get away from it all and design my Hawaiian clothing.”
“I know, Claude, I know.”
“You know, I know, we know. As we speak it becomes apparent to me that you have not yet read this morning’s papers.”
“What do you mean?”
“I spoke to Aaron. He’s at the house. He told me that there’s an article today about the dead woman that focuses on the royal shell lei around her neck. I hope this doesn’t mean that people will get disturbed and not want to wear my clothes with the same be
autiful shell lei design.”
“That won’t happen, Claude,” Jazzy assured him. “The chairman of the ‘Be a Princess’ Ball committee called me last night to report that all this attention has helped ticket sales.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What else are you putting in the gift bags?” he asked in a grumpy tone.
“A bunch of junk so that your items will be the big treat.”
“What kind of junk?”
“A key ring with a miniature plastic palm tree, pineapple soap that smells like ammonia, and a small bag of macadamia nuts that will have people running to the dentist. Believe me, your Hawaiian shirts and muumuus will stand out.”
“Good. That’s good. Because you know, Jazzy, I think that’s where my true genius lies.”
“I agree, Claude. I am doing my best to make sure everyone in Hawaii takes notice of Claude’s Clothes. The shell lei you drew for the fabric is so beautiful, so intricate.”
“Well, how many days did I go to that Seashell Museum to study the royal lei they’re auctioning off? How many? You think that idiot Jimmy would have trusted me with the lei. I could have taken it home and done an even better replication. But no.”
“After the robbery all those years ago, I guess he was afraid to let it go.”
“He’s not a good businessman.”
“I don’t think many people would accuse him of that.”
“I should say not. If I showed up at a meeting with bare feet, I don’t think people would want to do business with me.”
“Claude,” Jazzy began in her most comforting tone, “the ‘Be a Princess’ Ball will be a huge success for us. You will get the attention you deserve.”
“I hope so. I’m flying in tonight. Will you be there to pick me up at the airport?”
“Of course.”
“Did you get me a room at the Waikiki Waters for the weekend? I want to be there and make sure my clothes are in those bags.”
“I booked you a suite.”
“What would I do without you?” Claude wondered aloud.
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