“The perfect place for a clandestine meeting,” Nick commented once we were seated at a corner table. “If the lighting in here was any dimmer, they’d have to print the menus in Braille.”
The Kula Grill’s management appeared to be putting all the money they were saving on electric bills into maintaining a large, attentive staff. As soon as we sat down, a busboy bearing a pitcher came over and filled our water glasses. Almost immediately, a second staff member came over to light our candle. Not that it did much to illuminate our shadowy little corner.
Seconds later, a pale, chubby-cheeked waiter whose wavy platinum-blond hair only added to his cherubic look glided over to our table. He wore crisp, white slacks and a tasteful Hawaiian shirt splashed with flowers in shades of blue and green that, for this corner of the world, were relatively subdued.
“Good evening. I’m Keith, your waitperson,” he chirped, bowing slightly. “If there’s anything I can do to make your stay even more pleasant, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
He seemed so sincere I was tempted to ask him for a flashlight. But before I had a chance, Nick remarked, “You should probably know that this is a very special night for us.” He reached over and took my hand. “Jessie and I just got engaged.”
Before I could stop myself, I let out a little yelp. I immediately feigned a mild coughing fit.
Fortunately, Keith didn’t appear to notice. “Goodness, that is special!” he cried, clasping his hands together. “Congratulations to you both!”
“Thanks,” Nick returned, looking ridiculously pleased.
“Let me tell my manager,” the waiter cooed. “Maybe there’s something we can do to make the occasion even more special.” He fluttered off to the kitchen, so excited you’d have thought we’d invited him to be our best man.
“What did you do that for?” I demanded as soon as he was out of earshot.
“It’s part of my strategy,” Nick replied calmly. “Look what happened the other night at the luau when Betty and Winston told the waiter they’d just gotten engaged. He told them about every other couple that had gotten engaged or celebrated their engagement at the restaurant practically since the Civil War. And isn’t that what we came here for? To find out if Ace popped the question Sunday night—or if the conversation between him and Marnie went a different way entirely?”
“Good point,” I admitted. And it was. But even though we really had come all this way to find out what had transpired between Ace and Marnie the night she was murdered, I was still having a hard time sounding enthusiastic. I was feeling pressured enough without having to play the role of the dewy-eyed bride-to-be, out on the town for the first time with the man who was officially going to become her husband.
“At the very least,” Nick pointed out, “we might get a free drink out of it.”
I had to laugh. “I love that you’re so practical.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me what else you love about me.” His voice suddenly sounded much too soft—and much too serious—for my liking. In fact, the word mushy came to mind.
“Nick,” I reminded him, “we’re here to investigate a murder. We’re not really en—” I stopped myself before I choked on the word. I didn’t think it would be wise to pretend to have another coughing fit, since there was a good chance our attentive waiter would summon an ambulance. “You know, the reason you told the waiter we were here. We need to stay focused.”
“Actually, I’m pretty good at focusing on more than one thing at once,” Nick replied teasingly. “Especially if one of them is you.”
I was trying to come up with a snappy reply, hopefully one that would lead us to a safer topic like murder, when I noticed Keith gliding back to our table. This time, he was holding a tray high in the air, expertly balancing two large icy drinks decorated with huge purple orchids.
“Okay, Romeo and Juliet, these are on the house,” he announced, looking as pleased as the punch in the glasses. As he placed one in front of each of us, he whispered conspiratorially, “I told Jason, our bartender, to put a couple of extra shots of rum in these. On a night like this, I figured you two lovebirds deserve it. I’ll be right back with your menus. Enjoy!”
And he was off. I glanced at Nick. “It worked. At least the drinks part.”
“A very good start,” Nick agreed. “The night is young. We have plenty of time to get Keith to tell us what happened between Marnie and Ace.”
“And if he wasn’t here that night,” I added, “I’d say there’s a good chance he’ll do us a favor and find out who was.”
“A toast,” Nick said abruptly, holding up his glass. “To our future.”
“To our future,” I seconded, clinking my glass against his. I was grateful that he’d kept the toast fairly generic, especially since we were pretending that we’d just gotten engaged. There was no doubt in my mind that Nick and I had a future. The only question was exactly what that future would look like.
As promised, Keith soon returned with our menus. He presented them to each of us as if he was bestowing a wonderful gift upon us.
“I’ll just give you a few minutes to look these over,” he gurgled. “The specials are here on this separate page, right inside. In the meantime, just let me know if there’s anything I can do to—”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” Nick said. “Are there any employees here tonight who also worked at the restaurant Sunday night?”
“Sunday night? Let me think.” Keith placed his index finger against his chin and rolled his eyes upward. “Not Steve, not Rusty…I think Colleen was on that night, but she’s not here….” Suddenly his face lit up. “I know! Desiree was here Sunday night. She’s the hostess. The woman who showed you to your table.”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Nick added, “we’d like to talk to her. Just for a minute or two.”
“Of course,” Keith replied. “Do you want me to ask her to stop over when she has a free moment?”
“Maybe we’d better go to the front of the restaurant to talk to her,” I suggested. “That way we won’t disturb the other customers.”
The idea that whatever we were up to might have the effect of causing a disturbance clearly perturbed Keith for a few seconds. But he must have realized that newly engaged lovebirds like us had no intention of causing serious conflict within the walls, such as they were, of the Kula Grill. “I’ll tell her,” he said. Winking, he added, “And if I were you, I’d keep away from the swordfish.”
After we’d ordered and Keith informed us that Desiree had been forewarned, Nick and I wandered up to the front of the restaurant.
“Everything okay?” The restaurant’s hostess was smiling, but her tone was guarded. When I’d first come in, I assumed she was in her twenties, given her pale-blond hair and her strapless cocktail dress, which looked like something the original Barbie might have worn. Now that I had a chance to study her, however, I saw that Desiree was probably in her forties. Her dark red lipstick had strayed slightly into the fine lines around her mouth, and her black eyeliner was a bit too heavy. She reminded me of Lila Nakoa, who had explained she had a similar job. Somehow, I got the feeling that being the hostess at the Kula Grill hadn’t exactly been Desiree’s dream of what she wanted to be when she grew up.
“Everything’s fine,” I assured her. “I’m just trying to find out if a friend of mine came in to the restaurant Sunday night. Keith thought you might know.” I whipped out the photographs I’d brought along, the ones I’d taken from Marnie’s apartment. I laid a photo of Ace and Marnie, both smiling for the camera, on the counter. “Do you remember seeing this couple come in?”
She only glanced at the photo for a second before saying, “Oh, yeah.” Quickly, she added, “Wait, you said you’re these people’s friends, right? I mean, you’re not cops or anything?”
“We’re not cops,” I told her. “I’m a veterinarian. And Nick here is…a student.” My impression of Desiree the Hostess was that she wanted to stay as far away from anything to do with t
he law as possible, and for all I knew that included law students. I also decided not to mention that the woman whose photo she had just seen was a murder victim. “She’s a friend of ours.”
“I remember both of them,” Desiree said, nodding.
Just then, Keith sashayed over with an empty serving tray in hand. “I hope you can help these nice folks, Desi,” he said.
“I’m doing my best,” she replied sincerely.
“I don’t suppose you happened to overhear anything they said to each other,” Nick said casually.
“I sure did,” Desiree replied. “I remember every couple who comes into a fancy place like this and then ruins their entire evening by having a fight. And those two hadn’t even ordered yet.”
So much for a romantic evening, I thought. And so much for Marnie’s expectation that Ace was about to pop the question.
Still, I did my best not to react. “They argued?” I asked in a calm voice.
“Sure did. I heard a lot of it, but not all of it. See, I started getting the gist of what was going on between the two of them while I was seating a couple at the table next to theirs. Dan and Ellen Simons. Lovely people. They come in here all the time. He’s a photographer and she—”
“Get to the point, Desi!” Keith interrupted impatiently.
“Okay, okay.” Desiree took a deep breath. “So I’m seating the Simons, and all of a sudden I hear the girl whisper—well, it wasn’t exactly a whisper, it was kind of a hoarse-voice sound, since I could hear her even though it was obvious she was trying to keep it quiet—”
“What did she say?” Keith demanded.
Desiree paused for dramatic effect. “She says, ‘You mean you’re married?’”
“No!” Keith gasped, slapping both cheeks with the palms of his hands.
As for me, I simply glanced at Nick. From his expression, I could see he was thinking the same thing I was thinking.
“Then what?” Keith demanded breathlessly.
“She stormed out of here, of course,” Desiree replied. “What woman wouldn’t?”
“What did he do?” Keith asked.
“What do you think he did? He ran after her. But she was way ahead of him. She was just a little thing, but she was pretty fast on her feet. By the time he caught up with her, she was out in the parking lot. But I could see everything, because by that point I was back here, at the front.”
“Did they continue to argue?” I asked.
“They sure did. First, as soon as he caught up with her, he grabbed her by the arm. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she yelled. Really loud. At least, loud for this place. Good thing they were already outside by then or the other customers would have had a fit.”
“That brute,” Keith interjected. Huffily, he added, “If I’d been here, I would have gone after him with a steak knife.”
“So then I heard her say, ‘I’m going to tell her what’s been going on,’” Desiree continued. “The guy went nuts, of course. So she yelled, ‘Call me a taxi! I’m not getting in the car with you!’ But he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He yelled back, ‘You’re coming with me. We have to talk about this.’
“Then, I remember, he looked back at the restaurant, like he suddenly realized he might have an audience. Which he did, of course. At least me. But I pretended I wasn’t listening. I started looking through the reservation book, acting like I was busy checking off names or something.
“So then he lowered his voice. But they were still close enough that I could hear him. And he said, ‘Let’s go someplace where we can be alone. Someplace quiet. We have to talk.’” Desiree gave a little shrug, then concluded, “So wouldn’t you know it? The fool gets in the car with him and they drive off.”
I cast Nick another meaningful look, then asked, “Desiree, did you tell anyone about this?”
“Why would I?” she returned, sounding a bit defensive. “They’re hardly the first couple that’s had an argument here. It happens all the time.”
Keith nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right. Sometimes they don’t even finish their dinners before they both go off in a snit. It’s such a waste of food.”
“So you didn’t tell the police any of this,” I said.
“The police?” Desiree looked at me as if I’d just suggested she join the French Foreign Legion. “Why on earth would I want anything to do with the police?”
From the horrified look on her face, I gathered that somewhere along the line, this woman had had enough interactions with the police to last a lifetime.
I thanked her for the information, adding, “I’d better let you get back to work. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Once Nick and I were settled back at our table, I observed, “So Ace and Marnie weren’t exactly going hand and hand into the sunset right before she was murdered.”
“Not even close,” Nick agreed. “And from what Desiree told us, it sounds as if he and Marnie might have gone to the Purple Mango after they left this place.”
“Which means he could have been the person the cops’ witness saw her leaving with—”
“And he could also have been the person who killed her,” Nick finished. “It certainly fits. First, Ace tells Marnie he’s married. Maybe he even tries to break it off with her. Then she goes nuts and threatens to tell his wife. Finally, in a fit of fury, our pal Ace takes what seems like the path of least resistance, at least to him.”
I just nodded. It was certainly an ugly scenario.
But Nick was right. It was also a scenario that made perfect sense.
“What’s this?” Nick asked as he pushed open the door of our hotel room.
Glancing down, I saw what he was referring to: a white business-size envelope lying on the carpet. Someone had clearly slipped it under the door while we were out.
My heart immediately began to pound. What now? I thought.
“Maybe it’s a bill,” he speculated, bending down to pick it up. “You know how sometimes hotels slip your bill under the door.”
“But that’s usually the day you’re checking out,” I pointed out. “It’s way too soon for that.”
With a sly grin, he suggested, “Maybe the neighbors have been complaining about how much noise we’re making. You gotta admit, we’ve been making the most of our ‘romantic getaway.’”
I wasn’t amused. “Or maybe they’ve been complaining about Moose. They might have noticed he’d moved into our room while you had him out on the lanai.” I glanced nervously at our roommate, who was trotting toward us. He looked very happy that we were home.
I scooped him up, then cuddled him in my arms as I peered over Nick’s shoulder. He slid open the envelope with his finger and unfolded what looked like a letter printed on the hotel’s stationery. A smaller slip of paper was also tucked inside. Printed on top was the word Voucher.
“According to this,” he said, “the hotel is giving us a free helicopter ride over the island of Kauai. It says here that it’s a bonus for having booked the room for so many days.”
“Really? That’s awfully generous.”
Nick shrugged. “Hey, you know what they say about never looking a gift horse in the mouth. Didn’t they teach you about that in vet school?”
I laughed. “I guess I missed that lecture. When do we go?”
He studied the voucher. “It looks like we’re on for—hey, that’s tomorrow’s date. Wow, they’re even throwing in airfare to Kauai. We’ll be picked up at Lihue Airport by our own personal helicopter pilot.”
“Very cool,” I commented. “And I thought the free tickets for the luau were a big deal. The timing is good too. The conference ends at noon tomorrow, and none of the morning lectures sounded all that interesting, anyway.”
“This is so great!” Nick exclaimed. “I read all about these helicopter trips in my guidebook. Parts of Kauai are unreachable by car or even by foot, so this is the only way to see some of the most spectacular scenery in Hawaii. It’s supposed to be unbelievable, with mountains and canyo
ns and waterfalls as high as skyscrapers…”
As Nick babbled on, I read through the letter, looking for a catch—some fine print stating that if we opted to take the aforementioned helicopter ride, we were automatically agreeing to buy a time-share or a piece of real estate in one of the more remote corners of the Haleakala crater.
But I didn’t mention my concerns, since I didn’t want to rain on Nick’s parade. Still, I was only too familiar with another old expression: If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Nick’s excitement was contagious, and I quickly put all my reservations aside. The next morning, we skipped the breakfast ritual we’d developed. Instead, after refilling Moose’s food and water bowls and putting out the Do Not Disturb sign again, we went downstairs to the lobby to grab coffee and muffins at the hotel’s complimentary continental breakfast. Before dashing out, I snatched a couple of bagels off the tray and stuck them in my backpack, figuring our helicopter trip probably wouldn’t include meal service.
Then we popped into our Jeep and drove to Kahului Airport. As we pulled into the parking lot, I reflected upon how much had happened in the past five days. In fact, it was difficult to believe that such a short time had passed since we’d first arrived.
After our Hawaiian Airlines airplane rose out of Kahului Airport and Nick and I oohed and aahed over the view, I opened Nick’s guidebook and read the section on Kauai. I learned that “the garden isle,” as it was nicknamed, was the oldest of Hawaii’s main islands, and ancient Hawaiians had lived in its green valleys centuries earlier. It still retained its spectacular beauty, most of which remained untouched by humans.
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