Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) (21 page)

“She’s got money of her own, obviously.”

“For now. Ever wonder where she gets it?”

“Rich men.”

“Unfortunately, Phillip’s well ran dry.”

“So she moved on. Poor Mr. Hasigawa,” Em said.

“Don’t worry about him.”

“Unless he’s a con man like Phillip, he’s obviously wealthy and important if he’s got a bodyguard. Who has a bodyguard anyway? Maybe he owns a big car company in Japan. Maybe his middle name is Toyota.”

Roland was silent.

“You think?” she prodded.

“I think there’s a lot more to Mr. Hasigawa than Felicity knows.”

“Like what?”

“You ever heard of the Yakuza?”

“Is that a Japanese dish or a new restaurant?”

“Neither. Yakuza is the name of the organized crime syndicate in Japan. The Japanese mafia.”

They walked past the Royal Hawaiian Hotel shopping complex. Roland picked up the pace to make the green light at the next corner.

“Do you think Felicity knows?” she wondered.

“No idea.”

“Could she have been angry enough to have had Phillip murdered? Maybe that’s the Hasigawa connection.” She pictured the bodyguard and shivered despite the close heat.

“We’d have to find out if their connection goes all the way back to LA. If not, then she probably doesn’t know or suspect who or what Hasigawa is and has picked up the wrong sugar daddy again.”

30

IT WAS AFTER THREE by the time they made it back to the Hilton. Em returned to her suite to freshen up while Roland went to registration to see if he could get a room. She heard the Maidens laughing and talking in the suite before she even reached the open door.

“Em’s back,” Flora called when Em stepped inside.

The sitting room area was full. Most of the Hula Maidens were there along with the Kamakanis. The women were lounging on every available chair and the floor. Suzi had her injured foot propped up on pillows and was sprawled on the sofa. The musicians played poker at the table near the balcony slider. The TV was on, the sound muted. The place was littered with food wrappers, snack bags, crumbs, and empty Solo cups. One of the poker players was sitting on the formerly missing ice chest. Any hope of a quiet ten minute rest evaporated.

“You got your cooler back,” she said to no one in particular.

“Yeah.” Flora roused herself from where she was propped up on a sofa pillow on the floor. “Da poi, da flowers, da
akule
, all gone. But we got the cooler.”

“Tell her what was in it.” Pat was sitting on one of the bar stools at the short kitchen counter in the corner. Her hand was wrapped in so many layers of white gauze that it was almost the size of a basketball.

Flora snorted. “All our stuffs was gone. Whoever took it left a note. Mahalo for the fish and poi. They sent the cooler back with about a dozen cans of teriyaki flavored Spam. Big deal. Spam.”

“What happened to your hand?” Em asked Pat.

“The gol’danged monkey is what happened to my hand. The dang thing bit me. I’m on antibiotics the size of golf balls.”

“Did you cage it?”

“H-ell no. I
almost
had it stuffed in the cage, but then it bit into my hand and hung on. Like to bit my fingers off. I started screaming just as a maid walked in. She started screamin’. The monkey started screamin’. It let go of me and went for the maid. She ran out the door and so did the monkey. Once he got out in the hall he forgot all about the maid and took off.”

“Where is he now?” Em asked.

“Loose in the hotel somewhere,” Kiki said.

“We’re
hoping
it’s still in the hotel,” Trish said. “If it’s gone for good Louie will lose his rental deposit.”

“Rental deposit?” Em looked around. Louie had failed to mention a deposit.

“Yes, and judging by Louie’s reaction when we told him the monkey was missing, it was a hefty amount,” Trish said.

“I hope that furry sucker is under a bus filled with a dozen six hundred pound tourists.” Pat moved her arm and winced.

“Pat! How could you say that?” Lillian, her face coated in makeup, was about to cry. “That poor thing is one of God’s little creatures.”

“That little critter needs to be shot, stuffed, and hung on a wall or maybe skinned and made into a placemat.” Pat said. “I coulda lost my whole hand. I’d like to cut his balls off, but he doesn’t have any.”

Em noticed Kiki staring at her.

“You look frazzled, Em. Where have you been? Did you and Roland find the Booze Bible and the creep who took it yet?” Kiki asked.

Em sank into the only available space on the corner of the sofa beside Suzi’s encased foot. She glanced at the TV and noticed the early afternoon edition of the news was on.

“Where are the others?” she asked.

Kiki said, “Precious signed up for the Atlantis Submarine ride. Big Estelle is down at the bar. Last time I saw her she was hiding behind some potted plants spying on Little Estelle. Her mom met up with a bunch of Shriners she used to know, and she’s been partying big time ever since.”

“Last time I saw her she was performing her rap for them,” Em said.

“I saw her just before I came up here,” Trish said. “She had on a fez and was trying to belly dance.”

“She was dancing?” Kiki couldn’t believe it.

“While sitting on the Gadabout,” Trish said.

Em took a deep breath and let it out and glanced over the television news. Honolulu had the lowest crime rate of any city its size, so a murder was always the lead story. It was only a matter of time before someone found out Phillip Johnson was her ex.

Em raised her voice to get their attention. “I’m glad most of you are here. There’s something I need to tell you before you hear it somewhere else,” she said.

One by one, the Hula Maidens fell silent. So quickly that the men at the table stopped talking to see what was up.

“There’s a little more going on than just the theft of Louie’s Booze Bible,” she began. “Sometime between early yesterday evening and last night, my ex-husband was shot and killed.”

Lillian immediately got up and rushed to Em’s side and threw her arm around her shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing!”

“Are you flying to California?” Trish asked.

“He was here in Waikiki, on vacation with his fiancée.”

Kiki shook her head. “Did
she
kill him? If you divorced him, he must have been a real piece of work.”

“The police don’t know who killed him yet, but his fiancée has an alibi.” Em smoothed an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. “We did discover he’s the one who stole Louie’s Booze Bible.”

“How did he know you were on Oahu? Did you tell him? Did you invite him up to your room? Is that when he stole it?” Kiki was on the edge of her chair.

Suzi smiled. “But now that you know where the notebook is, Louie will get it back.”

“The police are still looking for it. They haven’t found it yet.”

“So how do you know Phillip had it?”

“The reception video tape shows him dropping off an extortion letter.”

“So who killed him?” Kiki asked.

“They think maybe it was a neighbor of his. Some guy named Damian Bautista. Yesterday afternoon Phillip rented one of those no-tell day, week, month apartments and got in an argument with Bautista over a parking space out front. The neighbors saw it go down.”

Flora put down her water bottle—which was full of something far more potent than water.

“Probably a case of road rage,” she said. “I had that once. Went to my shrink. He gave me anger management.”

“No kidding. You have a shrink?” Kiki sounded amazed.

Flora shrugged. “Yeah, sure. He tol’ me to slap myself every time I opened my mouth to yell at somebody when I was driving.”

“Did it work?” Em asked.

“I guess. Now I never yell at anybody. I flip ’em off, and if they don’t get the message, I smack my bumper into theirs.”

“So are the police looking for the neighbor?” Kiki asked.

Em said, “Yes. I have to meet Roland again in a few minutes. He’s contacting the detective on the case.” She didn’t say any more because she didn’t want Louie to find out she was a possible suspect. None of the Maidens could keep a secret very long.

“How’s my uncle doing? Have you seen him?” Em asked.

Trish said, “I went over to the convention center to tell him the monkey is on the loose. He wasn’t too concerned because he was elated about getting top scores on his demonstration today. He’s out picking up some special ingredients and is determined to pull something fabulous together. He said he’s got an idea for a whole new concoction with a brand new legend. He seemed really excited about it.”

“That’s great news,” Em said. “He’s been so down since his notebook went missing I was worried about him.”

“Of course he has,” Kiki said. “If I ever lost one of my hula notebooks I don’t know what I’d do.”

Em walked over to the efficiency kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a diet soda. She found a clean Solo cup and poured the soda over ice. Liquor bottles were lined up on the countertop. Em hoped this crowd wasn’t going through Louie’s ingredients.

“I’d appreciate it if you all wait and let me tell Uncle Louie about Phillip,” she said.

They all agreed not to bring it up until Kiki said, “What if he hears it on the news and says something to us?”

Kiki refilled her martini glass. She never traveled without it and refused to use plastic cups.

“He’s been too preoccupied to watch TV. And by the way everyone, don’t drink all his booze,” Em said.

Kiki tasted her martini and smacked her lips. “The girls would love to see Roland tonight. We’re dancing at Tiki’s Grill and Bar on Kalakaua. Bring him by around seven. It’s not far from the Duke Kahanamoku Statue at the other end of Waikiki.”

Em knew right where Tiki’s was located. Before the latest life-quake hit she had planned to stop by and see if she could pick up any ideas for the Goddess.

“I’ll tell him,” Em said. “But don’t count on us.”

She took a sip of the soda and added, “You know, Tiki’s is almost across from the Waikiki police substation. If you get in trouble the police won’t have to transport you. If you do get arrested again, do not call me.”

She’d already seen enough of the substation and Officer Chun.

31

EM WAS ABOUT TO step into the elevator to meet Roland when he texted her and said he was waiting at Hilton’s Tropic’s Bar and Grill next to the beach. She made her way through the crowded walkways to the restaurant across from the Super Pool.

Happy Hour was underway, and the place was already packed. There was a waiting line out the door. People were seated on the low fire rings and planters in front waiting to be called.

She didn’t see Roland in line so she looked for him inside and found him alone at a premier table for four. He was seated next to a window overlooking the pier dubbed Port Hilton where the catamaran rides launched.

“How’d you get such a great table?” She slid into the seat across from him.

He smiled. She melted.

“Oh, of course. That would do it. Did you talk to Bardon?”

“Bardon called to say he’s coming to talk to us. He’ll be here in five minutes.”

Em’s heart sank. “Should I run?”

“Hard to hide on an island.”

She stared out at the rolling breakers and the horizon in the distance. “I should have stayed on Kauai.”

“Your ex would have still stolen Louie’s recipe book if that’s what he came for. He’d have made up some excuse to talk to your uncle, conned his way into the hotel room, sent the extortion letter. If Louie was here on his own, he would have mortgaged himself to the hilt to get the book back. You’re the voice of reason.”

“You’re right, but the voice of reason is now a murder suspect.”

“What if the fiancée is good for it? We just have to disprove her alibi.”

“What if she had the gangster do it for her? Or the bodyguard?”

“Possible, but doubtful. If he is Yakuza, Hasigawa will want to keep a low profile while he’s here.”

“We’ll have to wait and see what Bardon knows,” she said.

They ordered two iced teas. Em couldn’t believe it when Roland ordered off the
pupu
menu a thick-cut onion ring tower with
likiko’i
Sriracha ketchup.

“You’re kidding, right? We just ate a little over an hour ago.”

“I’m on vacation.”

“Some vacation. Did you get a room yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Can I hang out on your sofa?”

“Why not? The monkey moved out.”

Bardon showed up just as the onion ring tower hit the table.

“Mind if I dig in? I’m starving.” He set his notepad down and reached for a ring and ordered a soda.

Em watched Bardon chow down on fried onion rings, waiting to hear that she was off the suspect list. Finally he wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin and leaned back. He wasn’t smiling.

“Here’s what we know. Phillip Johnson was shot through the heart. He didn’t kill himself. There was no powder residue on his hand. The gun was his, but wiped clean. We went through his things. After you called about the stolen binder we took the place apart again but never found it. All he had was a couple of suitcases and a briefcase. Nothing appeared to be missing. Nor did we find any extortion letters. Are you sure he was the thief?”

Em’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

“Ninety-nine percent sure.” Roland handed him the copies of the video stills. “That’s Phillip Johnson delivering two large envelopes to the front desk yesterday morning. Two extortion letters were delivered in envelopes exactly like those around the same time, before Em met him for lunch. One was delivered to Em’s uncle, Louie Marshall, and the other to Lamar dePesto, the founder of the Shake Off contest.”

“Mr. Johnson demanded money for the return of the missing notebook?”

“Right,” Em said. “One hundred thousand dollars. He left another letter offering to sell a copy of it to dePesto for a lot less.”

Roland handed Bardon the extortion letter. “I’ve made a copy for us to keep. Here’s the original delivered to Mr. Marshall.”

Bardon whistled. “Good gig if you can get it.” He looked at Em thoughtfully. “That must have pissed you off.”

“What do you mean?” She knew exactly what he meant, but she wanted him to say it.