Burned

by Carol Higgins Clark

  Ned walked out of the room and called information from his cell phone for the address of the Seashell Museum. He hadn’t been there in a while. He bought a map in the store that sold newspapers, postcards, and travel guides, and pinpointed its location.

  In the front of the hotel he jumped in a cab and gave an address several blocks from the museum. He didn’t want any taxi driver saying he had brought a guy from the Waikiki Waters to the museum. They took off, drove for several miles, and finally stopped along a stretch of lonely road in front of the beach.

  “This it?” the driver asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing much around here.”

  “I want to take a quiet walk.”

  After fifteen minutes of strolling along the sand, the museum was in sight. His pulse racing, Ned remembered the feeling he’d had thirty years ago. He had been a kid; now he was older, but it made no difference. He felt the same excitement, the same pounding in his heart. But everything was quiet. There was no one on the beach, and the museum was set off on its own. He wandered over, approached the steps to the museum, and noticed that off to the side there was a picnic table. A guy with a toga was sitting there facing the westward-moving sun, his back to the table. It looked as if he was meditating. His eyes were closed and his palms outstretched, facing up. Is that the guy who made such a stink about the robbery thirty years ago? Ned had seen him on TV the day after the theft. He seems to be wearing the same outfit, Ned thought.

  As Ned got closer he could see the two historic shell leis lying on the table. He was astonished. There they were, just feet away. Do I dare? he wondered.

  Of course. How could I not? So close and yet so far. He could always say he was only taking a look.

  Ned crept over as quietly as he could. With his index fingers he picked up the leis just as the meditator opened his eyes, smiled contentedly, and started to turn around. Before he knew what hit him, the large man was shoved violently and fell headfirst onto the pavement.

  The pain in the meditator’s head was tremendous, but it was only when he pushed himself to his feet, turned around, and saw that the leis were missing that he began to scream. Jimmy’s ungodly howls could be heard for miles.

  34

  R egan walked around the hotel and spotted Jazzy sipping coffee and going over papers in the coffee shop where Regan had eaten breakfast. She decided to go in and have a little chat with the queen of the gift bags.

  “Mind if I join you?” Regan asked.

  Jazzy looked up. She had reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and was looking very efficient. She tossed back her mane of blond hair and urged Regan to sit down. “Things are a little hectic getting ready for the ball. It’s really going to be exciting.”

  Regan nodded and ordered a cup of tea from the waitress who had served her breakfast. “You’re still here?” Regan asked.

  “Another kid called in sick,” Winnie noted matter-of-factly. “I guess the surf’s pretty good today. Oh, well. If my feet hold out, I’ll be fine. More money for my eventual retirement.”

  Regan smiled and turned to Jazzy. “I understand the ball is sold out.”

  “It’s crazy and a little strange. People are intrigued by the auction. All the press about Dorinda and the antique lei has sparked a lot of interest in the whole evening.”

  “Here you go, honey.” The waitress placed Regan’s tea on the small table. “Drink it in good health.”

  “Thanks.” Regan picked up the metal container of milk and poured in a few drops, added a touch of sugar, and stirred.

  “How come you’re not down on the beach?” Jazzy asked. “You’re on vacation. Steve and Kit surely wouldn’t mind having you join them.”

  “Oh, I know. Steve seems like a nice guy,” Regan answered evasively.

  “He is a nice guy. I’d get a little bored being retired at such a young age, though.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me, Regan thought. House-sitting on the Big Island for a rich guy isn’t exactly like being part of the labor force.

  As if Jazzy could read her thoughts, she continued, “I know I’m no longer working as a big-city lawyer, but that’s okay. I like working for Claude. It’s much less stressful than being an attorney. And getting his Hawaiian clothing business off the ground is really important to us.”

  Regan couldn’t help but wonder what the “us” meant. Maybe that explains why Jazzy hadn’t zoned in on Steve. She certainly is an operator. “This whole Dorinda thing,” Regan said, “is so puzzling. I spoke to someone today who had been interviewed by her years ago and said that Dorinda really burned her.”

  “Was that your mother?” Jazzy asked coolly.

  “My mother?”

  “Your name is Regan Reilly,” Jazzy said quickly. “Her name is Nora Regan Reilly. Even though you have dark hair, you look a lot like her.”

  “You’re quite a sleuth, Jazzy.”

  “And so are you.”

  “Dorinda did interview my mother. She didn’t exactly endear herself to her with the article, but my mother actually felt sorry for her.”

  Jazzy waved her hand at Regan. “She had her whole journalist act down pat. I’m telling you, she manipulated people. She was talking about interviewing Claude for the magazine Spirits in Paradise. Then she backed off. Then she thought she might. Then she said that she decided he was too rich, that he didn’t need a second career out here because he had enough money to live no matter what happened. She wanted to focus on go-getters who had the courage to leave their safe jobs on the mainland and try to make it in Hawaii. Please! Claude would have been a wonderful interview subject. He had the courage to try something different. Just because he had been successful, it shouldn’t be held against him. And the last thing Claude needs is to be embarrassed if his business flops. After all, doesn’t everyone just love to see someone fail in a new career when they’ve been so very successful at something else?”

  Not everyone, Regan thought. She raised her eyebrows and sipped her tea. Well, I guess she answered my question about her boss-and I do think their relationship runs a little deeper than just business. “Did Dorinda ever meet with Claude?”

  “We had a big outdoor party at the house at Christmastime and invited her. This was when she said again that she was going to interview Claude. She was so nosy, it was unbelievable. She was snooping around everywhere.” Jazzy laughed. “Inside and out. She was even wandering through our woods, taking pictures. I put glass marbles in Claude’s medicine cabinet because I’d heard how meddling people can be at parties. Well, wouldn’t you know, it was Dorinda who used the bathroom at the end of the hall in the master bedroom. She opened the cabinet, the marbles went rolling, and they broke all over the bathroom floor. I was nearby and got the broom. She claimed she had a headache and was looking for aspirin.”

  It sounds like Dorinda and Jazzy were birds of a feather, Regan thought.

  “That’s when I knew she was trouble,” Jazzy continued. “You know how sometimes you just get an instant reaction to a person? And it’s often right?”

  “I sure do,” Regan said. And my instant reaction to you was hardly positive. What kind of person puts glass marbles in their medicine cabinet that might potentially mortify one of their guests? The same kind of person who will write lousy things about people.

  “I mean, she had a stolen lei around her neck. What does that tell you?” Jazzy asked.

  “There could be a lot of explanations for that,” Regan answered quietly.

  “Which we probably will never hear. She took that secret to her grave.” Jazzy looked down at her paperwork for a moment, then looked back up at Regan. “You and Kit will be at the ball, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I told Steve he should bid on the princess’s lei for Kit. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

  “I guess it would.”

  “He really seems to like her.” Jazzy leaned in toward Regan as though she were about to divulge a big secret. “Let me tell you som
ething: A lot of the ladies on this island are circling around him,” she whispered. “He is a catch with a capital C. I’m surprised some girl hasn’t nabbed him already. It makes me wonder what he’s waiting for. Whoever lands that big fish is going to be one lucky girl.”

  Regan smiled. “And if he lands Kit, he’ll be one lucky guy.”

  Jazzy threw back her head, laughed, and waved her hand. “Of course he will. In any case, we’ll all have fun tomorrow night. I can’t wait to see how much money that shell lei brings in at the auction. And if they auction off both-wow! This place will be in a frenzy!”

  “I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” Regan agreed, wondering if there would be a moment of silence for Dorinda Dawes. Somehow she doubted it.

  35

  N ed stuffed the leis in his yellow nylon knapsack and ran as fast as he could from the grounds of the Seashell Museum. Everything happened in a blur. He never expected to see the leis sitting right there on the picnic table, and the second he spotted them, Ned knew there was no time to hesitate. He waved down a taxi and asked to be taken into the heart of Waikiki’s shopping district. He didn’t want anyone to trace him back to the Waikiki Waters, just as on the way out.

  Luckily the cabdriver seemed oblivious. He was playing loud music and grunted when Ned gave him his destination. In the back of the car Ned’s pulse was racing. He’d given that guy a shove when he started to turn around. Boy, could he scream. You’d think after meditating it would have taken him a minute or two to get so worked up.

  Ned got out of the cab on Kalakaua Avenue at the Royal Hawaiian Shopping Center in Waikiki and started to walk. He blended in easily with the Japanese and American tourists who were wandering in and out of the stylish shops. It was now four o’clock, and Ned’s mind was racing. What am I going to do with these leis? he wondered. How can I bring them back to the hotel room? What if Artie sees them? I have to hide them somewhere until Artie and the tour group leave. Then I’ll figure out a permanent spot for them.

  Ned ducked into a stationery store and bought a box, sexy gift wrap depicting hula girls in action, adhesive tape, and a small pair of scissors. He went out and walked until he found an alley on a side street, which he ducked into and began to wrap his gift.

  “How sweet,” mumbled an old guy who walked by.

  “You have no idea,” Ned muttered as he secured the final pieces of tape. He put the box in a shopping bag and picked up his knapsack. He had inadvertently placed it in a damp patch of oil on the ground. The side of it was sticky and black. Ned threw it back on the ground, stood, and headed back to the Waikiki Waters.

  As he walked down the crowded street, he regretted that he wouldn’t have a chance to really look at the leis until Artie left. He didn’t dare take them out in the room. He couldn’t wait to examine the delicate shells. I’m sure I can find a buyer who will spend a lot on them, he thought.

  The reception area of the Waikiki Waters was abuzz: Guests and hotel personnel were discussing the latest Waikiki news bulletin.

  “Ned, did you hear what happened?” one of the bellmen asked him. Glenn was a young guy who had been on the job for a couple of years. He had a slightly Stepfordish look. Behind his back employees called him the “Will wannabe.” He was a favorite of Will’s and was clearly being groomed to move up the hotel ladder.

  “No,” Ned answered, holding tightly to his shopping bag.

  “The royal leis for the Princess ball were stolen from the Seashell Museum. It’s all over the news. Now there’s nothing to auction off at the ball.”

  “You’re kidding!” Ned exclaimed. “Poor Will. I know he’s counting on the ball’s being a big success.”

  “He’s not a happy camper,” Glenn admitted and shrugged as he glanced down at Ned’s bag. “Wild wrapping paper.”

  “Huh?” Ned looked down. “Oh, yes.”

  “What have you got in there?” Glenn asked, still smiling.

  “A friend of mine asked me to pick up a gag gift for her for a party she’s going to. I told her I’d leave it at the bell desk. She should be by later today to pick it up. Can you take it for me?”

  Glenn stared at Ned with his affable, yet slightly vacant look. “Sure. What’s her name?”

  “Donna Legatte.”

  “I just love gag gifts. What did you get for her?”

  This guy is always so nosy and in the middle of everything, Ned thought with irritation. “Just some crazy toys,” he answered offhandedly. “You know, juvenile stuff. It’s her friend’s bachelorette party, and she didn’t have time to shop.” Ned felt as if he was beginning to babble.

  Glenn slapped him on the shoulder and grinned knowingly. “I’ll be sure to take good care of your precious package. It sounds like something you don’t want to lose! Oh, here’s a customer.” He took the bag out of Ned’s hands, hurried over to a taxi that had just pulled in, and opened its back door to usher out two arriving guests who were wearing big floral leis.

  “Welcome to the Waikiki Waters!” Glenn said cheerily. “We’re so glad to have you stay with us!”

  Ned turned on his heel and started to walk past the reception desk. Did I do the right thing? he wondered. Maybe I should have risked bringing the leis to the room. One of the girls at the desk called out to him. “Ned! Will wants to talk to you.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He went behind the desk and through the door to Will’s office.

  Janet was at her post. She looked up and pointed with her thumb. “He’s back there.”

  Ned walked through Will’s door. Will waved to Ned to sit down, gestured to a chair, and hung up the phone.

  “Ned, we’ve got trouble.”

  “I heard the leis were stolen.”

  “Even worse. My parents will be here tomorrow.”

  Ned laughed, relieved that they weren’t going to be discussing the goodies in the bag that was now mixed in with all the suitcases going in and out of the Waikiki Waters hotel.

  Will laughed, too. “I can’t believe I’m even making a joke right now.” It felt good for him to let go of at least some of the tension. All hell was breaking loose now that the leis were missing. But Will liked Ned. He seemed like a guy’s guy. “My parents are arriving tomorrow morning. I know they’ll be tired, but I know they won’t stay in their room and rest. I need to keep them busy, or my mother will drive everyone crazy while we’re trying to set up for the ball. Could you take them out on the beach for a couple of hours? Maybe take them for a sail tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Sure, Will. No problem.”

  “How’s everything with the Mixed Bag Tour group?”

  “Okay. I took a couple of them surfing today. You probably want to know that Gert and Ev said they were going hotel shopping to see if they could find better deals.”

  Will waved both his hands in disgust. “Those two have been harping at me for the last year for bigger discounts. I’ve had it with them. I even have you sharing a room so they save money.”

  Ned rolled his eyes. “I know.”

  “You’re a good sport, Ned. I won’t do that to you again. At this point I say let them go someplace else. When they first came here, they spent money and enjoyed themselves. Now those two women are stingy with their group. I think they’re leaving Monday-not a day too soon.”

  “The guy I’m sharing a room with is a very strange agent.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “And the couple in the group who are writing a chapter of a book on exciting relationships-they are not to be believed. And so dull! The young girl in the group had a few things to say at breakfast today about what’s going on around the hotel.”

  “What?” Will asked quickly.

  “She heard this place isn’t safe and there’s a rumor Dorinda Dawes may have been murdered.”

  “Those kinds of rumors can hurt us very badly. We have had a few problems around the hotel, but we’re doing our best to make sure they don’t happen again. As for Dorinda, t
he police believe that she drowned. So…” Will stood.

  Ned jumped up. “You seem okay about the stolen leis.”

  “Very much to the contrary, Ned. If I got my hands on whoever took them, I think I’d strangle him.”

  Ned nodded. “I don’t blame you. But who knows? They might turn up before tomorrow night. I’m looking forward to meeting your parents. Mr. and Mrs. Brown?”

  “At this stage they like to be called by their first names. It makes them feel young.”

  “What are their names?”

  “Bingsley and Almetta. Unforgettable, huh?”

  Ned gulped. “You b-bet,” he stammered. “Have they been to Hawaii before?”

  “Many times since I’ve lived here. They fell in love with the place thirty years ago when they took their first trip to Oahu. They had such a great time, they’ve been coming back ever since.”

  “How wonderful. I’ll do my best to keep them entertained.”

  “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” Will joked. “My mother is a handful.”

  36

  L ocal and national newspeople had all gathered at the Seashell Museum to interview Jimmy. He was in the museum lobby, holding an ice pack to his forehead, surrounded by cameras and microphones.

  “Jimmy going to kill whoever stole my leis. Kill them!”

  “What were you doing sitting outside like that with the leis?” a reporter asked.

  “I was thanking God for bringing the queen’s lei back to Jimmy. Then this happens! Now they’re both gone.”

  “Do you have any idea who could have crept up behind you and then viciously shoved you to the ground?”

  “No. If Jimmy knew, he’d be out looking for him right now. But the miserable thief was strong. It takes a lot to knock Jimmy over.”

  “Can you identify him in any way?”

  “Jimmy has been concentrating very hard. He saw a flash of yellow.”

  “Yellow what?” a reporter from the back of the crowd called.

  “Yellow something. When Jimmy was shoved, he thought he saw something yellow fly by his face.”