Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) (13 page)

With no other recourse, she knocked the shot back. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t cough.

She said, “Yum. What about you? Aren’t you having one?”

“I’m gonna go for some ice. I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Great.”
Definitely great
.
Go
. She’d see what she could find in the bedroom.

“Tequila’s on the bar.”

“I’ll wait for you to pour me another.”

Before he went through the door he paused. “I hoped you were in there taking off the mask.”

She pursed her very red lips. “I thought it would be fun to keep the mystery going.”

“Aye, aye!” He was out the door in a flash.

Em ran back down the hall into the bedroom as fast as her stiletto boots could carry her. She tore through the dresser drawers, opening and closing them, running her hand under his piles of T-shirts and underwear. No Booze Bible. She knelt on the floor, looked under the bed, ran her hands between the mattress and the box springs, opened the closet, and tried to reach the top shelf.

She ran over to grab a desk chair to climb on. There was a lap top as well as a portable printer and reams of paper on the desk. Em was about to drag the chair over to the closet when she suddenly recognized the manila envelope lying on top of a pile of contest information. It looked just like the one Louie had received from the extortionist.

Her hands were shaking as she tried to work the clasp and finally succeeded. She pulled two pages out of the envelope and scanned it. The first page was indeed written by the extortionist. Whoever had stolen the Booze Bible was offering to sell a copy of Louie Marshall’s famous Booze Bible for twenty-five thousand dollars.

Em’s heart sank when she looked at the second page. The handwriting was Louie’s. It was his recipe for his “Tiger Shark Attack,” a drink he’d concocted after nearly being chomped by a shark off of Kauai. The extortionist had torn out another page of the notebook.

Em’s mind was reeling. Was dePesto the recipient of the letter or the one sending it? If so, the Booze Bible had to be in the suite somewhere. Was he sending the letter going to one of the other contestants? Someone desperate enough to buy a
copy
?

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of dePesto’s voice, Em whipped around and almost toppled off her heels. She dropped the envelope and the papers on the desk. The recipe floated to the floor.

“I . . . I’m . . . I was just looking for an . . . um . . . a private place to make a call.”

He was staring at the dresser. She had left the top drawer wide open.

“Were you going through my drawers?”

“Maybe the maid left it open?”

“I don’t think so. This room was cleaned hours ago.”

“Maybe you left it open.”

“I would remember. What were you doing with that letter?”

“What letter?”

“The one you had in your hand when I walked in. I
saw
you drop it.”

She shrugged and tried to smile.

“I’m calling security,” Lamar said.

Em had imbibed in enough grog for the shot of tequila to put her over the top. She was invincible. She threw her shoulders back and raised her chin—a move that unfortunately emphasized her cleavage. DePesto’s eyes bugged. She hunched her shoulders.

“Go ahead and call them,” she dared him. “Call them, and I’ll tell them you’re an extortionist. I’ll tell them you stole my uncle’s recipes and you’re holding them for ransom.”

DePesto shook his head. “What in the hell are you talking about? What uncle? What recipes?”

“I’m Louie Marshall’s niece. His Booze Bible was stolen the day we arrived. Today he received an extortion letter demanding money. A letter just like that one.” She pointed to the desk. “In an envelope just like that.” She pointed again. “That someone tore out one of his recipes to prove he had the notebook. Just like the recipe on the floor. That’s another page of the Booze Bible.” She took a step toward him. “I think that someone is
you
, Mr. dePesto. A few minutes ago you admitted you’d go all the way and do whatever it takes to win the Shake Off.”

“Get real. I don’t have to cheat.”

“Then explain that letter.”

“Someone left it at the front desk for me.”

“Ha!”

“Why didn’t Marshall tell me his recipes were stolen?”

“Because he thought
you
or one of the others may have taken them. I think his notebook is somewhere in this suite.” She pulled open the desk drawer and then slammed it shut. Then she marched over to the closet and pulled out his suitcase. It was the hard-sided kind a gorilla could jump on and couldn’t break. Em tugged the case out. Ignoring dePesto, she stepped on it to reach the closet shelf.

“Hey, get off my suitcase. Stop that. I’m calling security,” he yelled.

Em spied an extra pillow on the shelf. No better place to hide something big than a pillowcase. She grabbed it and started to tug when one of her heels suddenly punctured the suitcase. Her boot sank through the case all the way to the top of the heel. She tumbled backward. Her booty hit the floor, and her tricorn hat fell off and pulled her wig off with it.

“They don’t make suitcases like they used to.” Em laid there spread-eagled and watched the ceiling begin to whirl.

Lamar disappeared into the living room area. Em struggled to sit up and pulled her boot heel out of the suitcase. She was on her hands and knees trying to stand when dePesto appeared in the doorway.

“Is that a
knife
?” Em’s breath caught. She looked around, thinking she might be able to whack him in the head with a lamp, if she could get to one.

“No, it is
not
a knife. It’s a citrus saw.” He looked at the tiny lime green plastic saw no bigger than a paring knife. “But it’s sharp.”

He kept the saw pointed at her as he picked up the phone and punched one of the Lucite buttons.

“Yes. This is Mr. dePesto, founder of the Shake Off. Lamar dePesto in the Presidential suite. I’d like to report an intruder. Yes, I’ll hold but . . .”

Her head started spinning as Em watched helpless from the floor. The odious taste of bad pirate swill filled her mouth. Her real hair was stuck to her head. A loose bobby pin dangled near her temple. The black tricorn lay on the floor beside her; the skull emblazoned on the front grinned up at her. Her wig was sticking out of the hat. She grabbed the wig and shoved it back on.

If she was going down, she wasn’t going down with hat hair.

21

TWO PLAINCLOTHES Hilton security officers in aloha shirts and Bermuda shorts drove Em down to the Waikiki substation. Shaken and tipsy, she tottered along on her high heels. The one she’d rammed into dePesto’s suitcase wobbled.

The Hilton cops escorted her into the waiting area filled with the flotsam and jetsam of the nightlife on Kalakaua Avenue. Three hookers in heels higher than Em’s were squished together on two chairs on the far side of the room. They were tall, lean, beautiful, and no doubt expensive. All wore the same tired, bored expressions. They’d been here before. One of them popped chewing gum in time to the beat a kid in a hoodie was tapping out as he slapped his palms against his thighs. He didn’t appear to be a stranger to the Waikiki substation facility either.

A panhandler with his face and hands covered in gold paint wearing a gold Statue of Liberty robe and foam rubber crown was handcuffed to the arm of a chair.

One officer at a desk near the door kept watch.

At least she was the only “Puss in Boots” in the room.

Em whimpered, but it wasn’t because of her situation. Her head banged as if ten Taiko drummers were trapped inside. The Hilton security officers pointed her to a chair.

“Sit,” one of them said. He handed over her tricorn.

Her other escort walked over to the officer at the desk and handed him the shopping bag that contained Em’s purse and mask.

Em sat. Until then she hadn’t noticed the rip in her right fishnet stocking. She tried to calculate what that was going to cost, but her head wasn’t working right with all the drumming going on.

She rubbed the spot between her brows with both thumbs, but the banging continued. A door opened, and she recognized Lieutenant Chun when he strode into the main room and sized up the crowd. He signaled the hotel cops, and one of them walked over. They chatted for a minute or two while Chun nodded and glanced her way now and then. Finally the Hilton officers walked out. Chun wagged his hand at her, indicating she should cross the room.

Em rose slowly so as not to stir up her headache any worse. As she started toward Chun one of the hookers yelled, “Hey, she just got here. We been here a good forty minutes. You’re wasting our time, Chunnie.”

Chun shot her a dark glare. The hooker shut up. The girl beside her went right on popping her gum. The Statue of Liberty had either passed out or fallen asleep.

“I thought you were the sane one,” Chun said as he ushered Em into his office. “Where’s the rest of your gang?”

“Drinking their way down Kalakaua.”

“Shoots.” He wagged his head. “Probably going to end up bookin’ them too.”

Em sank into the chair in front of his desk. “Booking? You’re going to book me? I’m innocent.”

“Hilton security says you broke into some guy’s room and were caught in the act of rifling through his stuff.”

“I did not break in. I was invited.”

“To steal stuff?”

“I didn’t steal anything. I was pillaging. Plundering. That’s what self-respecting pirates do.” She started to smile. A hiccup slipped out.

“You t’ink dis is funny?” He leaned back in his chair.
He
definitely didn’t think so. Em tried to sober up. “I was searching for my uncle Louie’s stolen notebook.”

“The missing recipe book again,” he sighed.

“I think Lamar dePesto took it.”

“De Presto? What is he? A magician or something?”

“De
Pesto
. Like the sauce. He’s the founder of the Shake Off cocktail competition.”

“Really.”

“He’s won the contest the last eight or nine years. He even admitted to me that he’d do anything to win.” Rum and tequila were having a tug of war with her brain cells. For a second she saw two Chuns.

“When was the last time you arrested a pirate?” She leaned her elbows on the desk and propped her chin in her hands. Her hat slid off her lap and onto the floor.

Chin wasn’t smiling. “Actually, when they were filming the last Pirates of the Caribbean movie here. How about you go on with the story, eh?”

“Earlier today my uncle received an extortion letter asking for one hundred thousand dollars for the Booze Bible.”

“So how come you didn’t call the police?”

“The letter said not to or else. Besides,
you
thought our case would be a waste of the HPD’s time.”

“So you decided to get caught ransacking some guy’s room looking for it yourself.”

“I didn’t ransack anything. I was just looking.”

“Speaking of looking, you look better as a blonde.” He stared at her wig for a minute before he turned his attention to her face again. “So did you find anything incriminating?”

She nodded yes and immediately wished she hadn’t moved her head so fast.

“There was a letter on his desk just like the one my uncle received. Only the letter in dePesto’s room asked for twenty-five thousand for a measly
copy
of the Booze Bible.”

“So he’s not the guy.”

“But he could be. Maybe he’s the one who sent us the letter. He has laptop and a portable printer hooked up on his desk. Maybe he plans to sell copies of the book to anyone who will pony up twenty-five thousand.”

“Kinda steep for a recipe book, yeah?”

“Maybe not to someone who knows what it’s worth.”

“But you didn’t find the book,” he said.

“I didn’t have time to conduct a thorough search before he walked in and caught me going through his things.”

“What did he say about the letter? You ask him about it?”

“Of course. He said he didn’t know where it came from. Says he received it this afternoon, just like we did,” she said.

Chun sighed.

Em sighed too. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“I’m probably
pupule
, but I believe you. I just don’t know what to do with you.”

“How about you call me a cab, and I’ll go back to the Hilton and never plunder or pillage anywhere ever again?”

“It’s not that simple. You were caught rifling through a man’s room without permission, which is a lot like an act of burglary. How’s it gonna look if I let you go?”

“Like I’m innocent. Which I am.”

“That’s what everybody out in the waiting room is gonna tell me, too. Only innocent people on this island.”