Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) (31 page)

Em shook her head. “I gave the coroner his brother’s name, and they’ll contact him. They probably already have.”

When she heard Roland’s stomach growl, she realized it was completely dark already.

She got to her feet and brushed off the back of her pedal pushers.

“Do you feel like eating?”

“I promised Louie I’d be there for the Shake Off award ceremony.”

“You should have a bite. It’s been a long day,” he said.

She pictured the noise and crowds at the Hilton. The last thing she needed right now were the Hula Maidens and a dancing monkey.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “How would you like something low-key and local?”

“Low-key and local? Are you talking about you or dinner?”

He drove back toward Waikiki and a little beyond, turned down what looked like an alley, and pulled into a lot behind a chain link fence across from a wall of graffiti art.

“Okay, I give up. Where are we?”

“Home Bar and Grill. Trust me.”

“I trust you.” She learned early on that the most humble places in Hawaii usually had the most delicious food.

The place was packed, but they were seated within minutes. They ordered beer and wine, and before Em knew what was happening, the table was covered with food. Roland’s smile had been on full power megawatt since they walked in.

Naturally someone on staff knew his cousin and his aunties and that he was from Kauai. Word of his presence quickly circulated, and young lovelies kept appearing at the table bearing free appetizers.

“Just a little
pupu
,” was the excuse waitresses made each time they set down another delicious dish for them to sample.

Having dinner in the local hangout was low-key, comfortable, and sane after the nightmare and drama she’d been living all weekend. She looked across the table at the handsome detective and didn’t know how to thank him for being there for her. He’d been an island of calm and strength in an ocean of upheaval.

Never in a lifetime would she have guessed Phillip would be the one to bring them closer. Or that Nat would ever call Roland to come to her rescue. But that just proved what a great guy Nat was too. Despite everything that had happened, she considered herself one lucky girl.

She smiled when she noticed his pork chop dinner was nearly demolished. They’d had so many great
pupus
she’d barely made a dent in her Korean fried chicken.

“Another glass of wine?” he asked.

“No, thanks.” She still had a long night ahead of her. “I’m going to the awards ceremony,” she reminded him. “Even if I just slip in at the end.”

He signaled a waitress for the check.

“We’ve got time. Finish your dinner,” she told him.

He had another couple of bites. “I’m
pau
.”

While he finished up and polished off his beer, Em said, “I can’t thank you enough, you know.”

“Hey, we took an oath to protect and serve with aloha.” He shrugged off her thanks and then smiled. “This is the serving with aloha part. What can I do for you now?”

“How about passing me that last hunk of Tater Tot nacho?”

“You got it.” He slid the plate across the table. “If you think of anything else, maybe later in the evening, just let me know, and I’ll be there.”

43

EM MADE IT BACK to the Hilton with enough time to freshen up and grab a
pareu
to use as a shawl in case the air conditioning was cranked up in the ballroom. She arrived at the Shake Off awards by eight thirty, entered through a side door, and scanned the room. Pat saw her and waved her over to a row of chairs filled with Hula Maidens. They’d saved a seat on the end for her.

“Sweet coconut balls! We thought you’d never make it.” Pat was doing her form of whispering, but her voice was still audible to most of the folks sitting around them.

“Sorry. We stopped for dinner,” Em whispered back.

Kiki leaned over Pat. “Tell me Bautista is locked up nice and tight.”

“He is, but he still hasn’t confessed to murder. Did I miss the awards?”

“Nope,” Pat said. “So far all they done is blah-blah about next year’s event. It’s gonna be held on the Big Island.”

Kiki started to say something else, but Em put her finger to her lips and indicated the stage where dePesto was handing the microphone over to the awards chairman.

The demonstration bar was still set up, but the palms and tiki torches that had been part of Louie’s presentation were gone. Five trophies were lined up on the bar now: three bronze, a silver, and one gold. She located her uncle seated among the other contestants in the first three rows. He was tall and stately, and his distinguished white hair made him easy to spot.

DePesto took a seat as the awards chairman began the ceremony. Em guessed he was in his late thirties. He was dressed in what would be standard issue bartender wear on the mainland: a gold brocade vest over a white shirt with a black bow tie and black trousers.

“And now, finally, the moment you’ve all been awaiting is finally here,” he said. “It’s been quite a Western Regional Shake Off this year. I’d say one of the best ever. What a great way to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the national contest founded by Lamar dePesto. Let’s give Lamar another round of applause.”

Em guessed it wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last round of applause for dePesto.

“Without further ado.” The host turned to face the right side of the stage. A tall, slender blonde in red stilettos, red cat’s eye sunglasses, and a 1940s two-piece swimsuit sauntered out carrying the judging results envelope. She handed it over to the awards chairman and then perched on a barstool near the trophies, crossed her long bare legs, and folded her hands on her knees.

Em was certain there wasn’t a man in the room watching as the awards chairman opened the envelope. But open it he did. He read the results to himself, and at first his expression was blank, then Em thought she saw a hint of a smile. He called the names of the five finalists. Four men and a woman walked onto the stage and lined up in front of the bar. Louie and dePesto were among them.

“I’ll start with fifth place,” the chairman said, and he read off the name. The trophy girl handed the fifth place winner one of the bronze trophies while the crowd applauded.

Tension mounted between applause for the fourth and third runners up. Before the second place winner was announced, a heavy hush fell over the ballroom. Only Louie and dePesto remained on stage.

Em found herself holding her breath. Pat took hold of her hand. Em looked down the row and realized all the Hula Maidens were perched on the edges of their chairs holding hands. The awards chairman gazed dramatically at the audience. Then he looked at the two contestants left on stage. Louie was calm and smiling, holding his favorite tiki mug. DePesto just looked nervous.

“In second place”—the young man paused dramatically and then looked down at the card—“Lamar dePesto!”

There was a heartbeat of stunned silence, and then the room went berserk when everyone realized Louie had won and dePesto had been dethroned. The Hula Maidens started screaming, and all jumped to their feet. Pat put her thumb and forefinger in her mouth and let out shrill, earsplitting whistles until Em and Kiki elbowed her into silence.

Louie actually looked stunned until the leggy blonde walked over and handed him a two foot tall golden trophy with a three-foot-long swizzle stick on it.

“What the heck is that?” Pat squinted toward the stage. “A penis trophy?”

Em laughed for the first time in almost a week. “It’s a swizzle stick.”

“What’s a swizzle stick?” Pat asked.

“A long plastic thing you stir drinks with,” Kiki said.

“That don’t look like a spoon.”

“Because it’s not. It’s a swizzle stick.”

“Like those plastic things with palm trees on top that they stick in drinks at the Goddess?”

“Yes, those,” Kiki said.

DePesto was still on the stage holding a silver trophy. It was like Louie’s first place prize only smaller. Em almost felt sorry for him. Standing beside Louie, he appeared to be shrinking.

“How about a few words from our champion, Louie Marshall!” The awards chair tried to hand Louie the microphone. With his drink in one hand, Louie had to hand his award back to the trophy girl, then took the mic. As he waited for the pandemonium to die down, he took a sip out of the tiki mug.

When the room was finally quiet he lowered his voice and captivated the audience again. “A-looo-ha,” he said.

“A-looo-ha!” the audience shouted back.

“This is quite an honor, believe me. Coming from the North Shore of Kauai after not being out in the world can be a little intimidating. Oahu is one thing, but I haven’t been to the mainland for forty years. Or maybe more.”

For some reason everyone in the room started cheering, though the majority hailed from the western mainland states.

Louie continued. “After this week, I’m in awe of most of you young bartenders. You mixed up some quality drinks, and I’m proud to have met you. Heck, I’m thankful you even let an old geezer like me enter this event.”

He turned to dePesto. “I want to thank not only the judges, but Lamar dePesto. Ten years ago he founded a top notch contest, and despite a couple of personal hitches while I’ve been here, I’ve had a great time. That being said, winning the Western Regional Shake Off is a great honor and more than enough for me. So with your permission, I’d like to ask you, Lamar, to take my place in the National Competition in St. Louis. I just can’t see myself packing up and heading to the mainland to compete for the national title.”

For a moment or two no one moved. The crowd couldn’t believe what they’d heard. The winner of the Western Regional Shake Off had abdicated and was sending his runner up off to the nationals.

When Em realized what Louie had just done, she started applauding. The Hula Maidens joined in and whooped it up, chanting Louie’s name. Soon the entire room joined in.

DePesto was staring at Louie with a stunned expression. Louie waved the trophy girl over, handed her the mic, took back his golden swizzle stick, and started taking bows.

“That was way cool,” Pat said. “Kinda like they both win.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Em watched as the audience left their seats to congratulate the winners.

“Time to hit the bar,” Kiki said. “After the day we’ve had, I think a celebration is in order. Not only did we capture Damian Bautista, but we recovered the Booze Bible, and Louie won the contest.”

“A triple crown,” Pat said.

Kiki was all smiles. “It doesn’t get any better than that.” She looked over at Em. “Where’s that hot hunk of detective you’ve been with all day?”

“He turned in early. Said he wanted to check in with one of the guys he works with on Kauai and find out what’s been happening over there.”

Em turned to concentrate on the stage when she felt her face burning. She wasn’t about to tell them that when Roland left her in the atrium, he’d not only kissed her in public for the first time, but he pressed his key card into her palm and whispered, “No pressure, but if you want to join me later,
komo mai
, come on in.”

44

THE NEXT DAY, Em rolled over, pulled the sheet over her naked breasts, realized where she was, and propped herself up on her elbows. Roland was up, dressed, and moving around in the dressing area of his room pouring a cup of coffee.

“They only have packets of powdered creamer,” he said. “How do you take your coffee?”

She’d spent the night with him, had the most incredible sex she’d ever had, and the first thing he asks is how she takes her coffee as if nothing spectacular had happened.

Her insecurities kicked in. Maybe for him, it hadn’t.

“Black with sugar.” She saw her sundress draped over the back of the desk chair, her sandals on the floor. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven thirty.”

“I slept in. I can’t believe it.”

He approached the bed with a steaming cup and set it on the bedside table. Then he reached over her and gathered up all the extra pillows. Em leaned forward, and he propped them behind her.

“Mahalo,” she said as she leaned back. He handed her the coffee.

“A’ole
pilikia.”
No trouble.

He sat on the edge of the bed next to her hip and then reached over and smoothed her hair back away from her face and tucked it over her shoulder. She wished she could think of a spectacular word for the way he made her feel. Maybe something in Hawaiian.

Leaning back like a princess against the pile of pillows sipping coffee served by a handsome man was something she could get used to. So she warned herself not to make any more of last night than it was.

The trouble was she had no idea
what
it was, other than a word she couldn’t come up with.

She decided that for now she would simply enjoy the moment. Something she rarely had time to do.