by Tyler Colins
The drive back from Connecticut had afforded Adwin and I time to talk about life, goals and objectives, feelings and family. By the time we'd reached Wilmington, we'd decided that moving in together was probably not a great thing. We truly weren't that compatible or in sync, and that was fine we both acknowledged. I loved Adwin, and he loved me, but in the grand scheme of things we weren't really a romantic couple or marriage material; we were more of a buddy-bud duo. We'd remain in touch and he'd visit California, and I'd see him – and Fred – whenever I returned to North Carolina. We'd take the odd vacation together. Pledges were made and, with a bit of luck, they'd be kept.
I stretched bare legs onto the sofa, and sipped mango nectar from a bottle via a straw. It was thick and sweet and perfect for the sunny weather outside, and seemed to work well with little, decadent mouthfuls of a Red Velvet cupcake I was enjoying. I'd been off sweets since Connecticut – hadn't wanted to see another cookie to save my life, but this morning, after a three-mile power walk, I'd dropped by Suzee-Sooz's Cupcake Houz and bought the sinfully delicious treat that was nearly the size of a soccer ball. (Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much.)
“Hey you.” The door opened with a bang.
“Hey yourself and watch it. I don't want to buy a new door, thank you,” I groused, watching Rey all but dance into the small L-shaped living room, Linda in tow.
Both were dressed in the same Chip & Pepper jeans and similar Aloha shirts. While Linda sported colorful Converse runners, Rey wore strappy sandals. I half expected them to have the same polish on their toes and fingers. Maybe they'd both been deprived of high school friendships and were making up for missed girly-girl BFF moments.
I looked back at the shirts. Hawaiian wasn't Rey or Linda's usual taste. Oh-oh.
“What's up ladies?” I asked suspiciously, putting my drink aside but keeping the cupcake on my lap. I suspected I'd be needing sugar-enhanced comfort momentarily.
Linda closed the door and followed Rey. They leaned into the kitchen counter comprised of pretty pale blue and dusty rose ceramic tiles. I liked the cozy, bright kitchen, but why did I suddenly suspect I'd not be enjoying it for long?
Rey moved into melodramatic mode. “The licensing requirements to become private eyes in California are tough.”
“We'd don't have the qualifications or background,” Linda affirmed.
Oddly, neither looked deflated or upset. I smiled dryly and said nothing.
“I know, you're thinking that our detecting days are over before they've even begun.”
Not really, but I eyed Rey expectantly.
“They're not!” she announced gleefully, hanging an arm around her friend's shoulders. “Guess what?”
“I couldn't even begin to,” I responded wryly, gazing from one to the other.
Rey grinned. “We're going to become …”
“Hawaiian P.I.s!” Linda finished with a jubilant grin.
“Pack your bags, Jilly!”
The Red Velvet cupcake caught Rey in the middle of the forehead.
An index finger sporting neon blue polish removed some of the frosting clinging to her brow. She licked it and smiled. “Delicious. Mahalo.”
* * *
Yes, I'd made a move to Hawaii … packed up and wondered what I'd gotten myself into, besides a weather-forecasting job at an Oahu television station.
* * *
Dear Readers:
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed “Caper”, won't you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Aloha.
Tyler Colins
About the Author
On the professional side, Tyler Colins possesses over 15 years of experience in freelance writing, copywriting, editing and proofreading, as well as training in business communications and technical writing. Her current focus is fiction, film and television. On the personal side, she plans to reside in Hawaii permanently and embrace America, a country she's been enamored with since before she could read. Her passions, besides writing of course, include the aforementioned land of Aloha, animals in all shapes and sizes, fitness and athletics, the Good Lord and spirituality.
Connect with Me:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/UsBound3
Friend me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tyler.colins.9
Visit / Subscribe to my blog: www.creativespider3me.com/creative-spider-3
Discover other titles by Tyler Colins:
Can You Hula Like Hilo Hattie? (coming summer 2015)
Coco's Nuts (coming fall 2015)
The following prologue serves as a sample chapter from Can You Hula like Hilo Hattie? The sequel to The Connecticut Corpse Caper pursues Jill, Rey, and Linda in their official roles as detectives, and owners, of the Triple Threat Private Investigation Agency.
Can You Hula like Hilo Hattie?
Prologue
“Oopsy.”
“That would be an understatement.”
The three of us peered down at the slim, twisted, bloodied body of a previously pretty woman. A once painstakingly maintained and expensively sculpted face was now a mass of broken skin and bones. Long chipped salmon-pink nails on the right hand appeared to be gripping a jagged rock while those on the left were twined in tendrils of seaweed. Perfect, plump lips that many women would give their eye teeth for were retracted in a macabre smile while formerly merry eyes, the color of the ocean, stared unseeingly upward. A grim gruesome death mask had replaced a vibrant visage.
A gentle breeze that had been blowing all day was quickly evolving into offshore winds and cracking surf while the September sky was growing dark with giant cumulonimbus clouds. Thunder and lightning weren't far off.
It had started out like any Hawaiian Wednesday morning: sun-drenched and dazzling. A vivid rainbow had curved over Ala Moana Beach as The Bus transported people to work and school, and tourists to Pearl Harbor and the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet. As they did every day, trolleys and shuttles had traveled to various hotel pick-up points and Hilo Hattie's while cabs and cars were navigated to scheduled destinations.
Who'd have expected our first official paying private investigation case to take such a drastic detour—to the brutal murder of the young wife of our wealthy philanthropist-client. We were at the “Peering Place”, a rocky cove situated near the Halona Blowhole that was as beautiful as it was dangerous. The small sandy beach within the cove was well known as the beach in the 1953 movie From Here to Eternity. At the moment, though, it didn't exude the romance it had when Burt and Deborah had graced the sands.
We'd only had to demonstrate she was a cheating spouse who possessed a secret that could prove of value to her husband and help dissolve a four-year marriage. All that had been required: surveying the woman, taking photos as necessary, and delivering nightly reports. Easy-peasy. Not.
What we'd unearthed in the preceding days extended to the sordid world of drugs and gambling, two ugly and dangerous addictions that could drag you under and far like the Molaka'i Express (the crossing of the Kaiwi Channel from volcano-formed Molaka'i, Hawaii's fifth largest island), which possessed exceptionally strong currents. If the vice didn't batter you, the enabler—the human component—was there to ensure you remained dependent, paid up and/or stayed high, and never screwed him or her.
“Man, she must have really pissed someone off.”
“Big time.” I peered across the darkening Pacific and reflected on that which had brought us to Hawaii: a desire to open our own P.I. agency. But the body sprawled across rough wave-soaked rocks begged one crucial question: what did a meteorologist, actress, and scriptwriting assistant know about detecting? So what if they'd played amateur sleuths several months ago during a murder-filled week at an eerie Connecticut mansion? That didn't grant them the expertise or street smarts to manage a bona-fide case.
… But maybe the more imperative question at the moment was: how were they going to explain a simple undercover-case gone terribly wrong?
Tyler Colins, The Connecticut Corpse Caper