Honeymoon in High Heels (5 page)

Don shook his head.  “Not really.  In fact, I can get you a 10% last minute discount.”

I shot him a death look.

“Come on, Maddie,” Marco said, slapping me on the shoulder.  “You didn’t think we’d let you investigate a murder in paradise all on your own, did you?”

“
You
investigate?” Ramirez asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Um…” I trailed off, suddenly finding my toes fascinating

Luckily, Don saved me by jumping in with, “So, do you want the room or not?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Dana shouted.

“Please,” Marco added.

“Hmph,” Ramirez grunted.

I sighed.  This was spiraling out of control faster than I could rein it in. 

“Well I guess it's settled then,” Don said, just a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice.  Then added, “I’ll have a rollaway brought in,” making the clever deduction that Marco and Dana were not a couple.

“Oh, I call real bed!” Marco said, raising a hand.

Ramirez cleared his throat loudly.  “Look, I have some work to do anyway,” he said, putting some purposeful distance between himself and the pile of pink luggage.  “Why don’t I just meet you at the room later, Maddie.”

I wanted to scream, “No!” watching my dreams of a romantic hot tub interlude for two quickly slipping away.  But before I could protest, Ramirez was halfway across the lobby, and Marco had his slim arm draped around my shoulders. 

“Fabulous!  So, lead us to the Mai Tais, dahling,” he directed.

What could I do?  I led, steering them to the lounge just off the lobby.

Days of my honeymoon gone: 2.  Intimate moments spent in our honeymoon suite showing off my sexy bridal shower lingerie: 0.

“So, fill us in on everything?” Dana demanded as we all settled in with drinks at the grass-covered bar inside the lounge.  Yes, I was indulging in another Mai Tai after all.  I think I deserved one.

“Yeah, I want all the gory details.  Did you really find her in
the
alleyway?” Marco asked, wrinkling up his nose in mock disgust.

I nodded.  “I tripped over her.”

“Ohmigod, how horrible!” he squealed.  “Dish, dahling.”

So, I dished, telling them everything that had happened from finding Ahlia’s body to finding out about her less than cooperative other man.

“It has to be the husband,” Dana said when I was done, bobbing her head up and down so that her ponytail swished behind her.  “Strangulation screams jealousy.”

“But he’s got an iron-clad alibi,” Marco reminded her.  “It’s totally Mr. Other Man.”

“Not necessarily,” Dana argued.  “I mean, the husband could have hired someone to off his wife.”

I nodded.  “Good point.” And one I hadn’t thought of.  Maybe having my friends around would prove useful after all.  I mean, the faster we got the murder solved, the sooner I could get to that hot tub.  Three heads were always better than one, right?”

“Ooo, or maybe," Marco said, "the husband and the boyfriend are in it together!"

Okay, three heads were usually better than one.

“I say we explore the husband possibility a little more," I decided.  "I think we should chat with him.”

“Haven’t the police already done that?” Marco protested.

I nodded.  “But chances are they didn’t ask the same questions we’re going to.”

“Like. 'Who did you hire to off your wife?'” Dana said.

I nodded.  Exactly.

Two more drinks later we had devised a strategy for approaching the husband, convinced Marco that there was no way the boyfriend and husband were in cahoots, and agreed to meet the next morning for Operation Suspect Questioning.  (Hey, we named it several drinks in.  No one was particularly creative at that point.) 

By the time I got back to my room, I was swaying just a little on my heels, and Ramirez was already dead asleep in the king bed, snoring softly.  I looked down at him in the pale moonlight filtering in through the glass French doors to our private lanai.  His jaw was slack, dusted with just enough five o’clock shadow to highlight the ridges and valleys of his jaw line.  His eyes were closed, his thick lash casting shadows along his cheeks.  And his hair fell in soft waves across his forehead.  He looked good enough to eat.  It took all the willpower I had not to wake him and jump him right then and there.  But I knew he’d hardly slept the night before, and a grumpy Ramirez was not the one I wanted to spend my first intimate honeymoon moments with.

Instead, I slipped on one of the sexy lingerie outfits I’d brought with me - a peach colored silk baby doll nightie - and slid into bed beside him, letting the rhythmic sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept for, but it surely didn’t feel like enough.  I heard soft rustling, cracked one eye open to see the first beginnings of sunrise filtering in through the windows, and sat up just in time to see the door of our suite closing.  I rubbed sleep from my eyes, and spotted a note on the pillow beside me.

Autopsy results coming in this morning.  Wanted to be there.  Meet you later.  XOXO

~R

I felt a slump of disappointment that morning sex was out of the question.  But on the other hand, the fact that he was busy today meant that the girls and
I
would be free to investigate on our own. 

I did a quick shower and blow dry, then threw on a white, knee-length dress, belting it with a green woven number.  I added a pair of yellow strappy sandals on my feet before making my way to the breakfast buffet.  I loaded
a
plate full of tropical fruit and a fresh baked muffin, making it halfway through each before Dana and Marco arrived.

Marco was dressed in a pink, camouflage tank, pink short-shorts, and a pair of white flip flops.  Dana had on a denim skirt, slightly askew, and a white blouse buttoned just one button off.  Her hair was thrown into a messy-chic bun that was seventy-percent messy and only thirty-percent chic.

“What happened to you?” I asked her as they joined me with their breakfast plates.     

“No sleep,” she mumbled.  “Marco snores.”

Marco gasped, covering his mouth with one hand.  “I do not!”

“Oh, yes you do,” Dana said, shooting him a death look.

“Must be allergies,” Marco mumbled.

“It sounded like a chainsaw.”

“Well, excuse me for breathing, Miss I-Used-All-the-Complimentary-Shampoo-Up.”

“Hey, it was a tiny bottle,” Dana said, her hand going to her messy-chic hair.

“Uh-uh,” Marco said, shoving a forkful of pineapple compote into his mouth.

“Okay, break it up, roomies,” I said.  “We have work to do today.  I want to get to the husband bright and early.”

Dana nodded.  “Right.  We know where he lives?”

“Yes, we do,” I answered, pulling a post-it note from my purse. 

Dour-faced Don had been absent from the front desk this morning, a pleasant looking girl with blonde curls taking his place.  I’d snagged the opportunity to ask here where I could send condolence flowers, and she’d happily given me Ahlia and Aki’s address.   

I passed the note across the table, and Dana cocked her head to one side to read it.  “Manutea Bay.  Where’s that?”

I shrugged.  “No idea.  But, I have a feeling the GPS on my rental car will.”

As it turned out, Ahlia and Akia’s place wasn’t hard to find.   Because she’d been a dancer at the resort, the home had become a sort of morbid tourist attraction in the last twenty-four hours.  Two news vans were parked out front, and a handful of onlookers in Bermuda shorts snapped pictures of the place.  If he hadn’t killed his wife, I felt distinctly sorry for Aki.  He at least deserved to grieve in peace. 

We parked the rental sedan around the corner, and walked toward the modest, one-story house, sparking interest and a few snapshots as we approached the front door.  I knocked and waited a beat before it was opened by a woman with a soft face and graying hair.

“Yes?” she asked, looking behind us at the news vans.  Her voice was timid, as if she’d already had to fend off enough strangers lately.

“Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if Aki was available?”

She looked from me to Marco and Dana.  “And you are?”

I bit my lip.  “I’m working with the police to investigate her death,” I said, stretching the truth just a tad. Ramirez was working with the police, and I was with Ramirez.  Did that count?

“They’ve already been here,” she said, a frown forming between her brows.

“You’re her aunt?” I asked, guessing from the info Ramirez had told me last night.

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Marco jumped in, putting a hand on her arm.  “I can’t imagine what you’re going though."

She smiled softening.  “Thank you.”

“We were hoping we could ask Aki a few questions about that night,” I pressed.

She looked from Marco to me.  “I’m sorry, but he’s not here.  He’s at the gym.  He... needed to blow off some steam,” she said.

Which I took as code for working out that rumored temper of his.  I'll admit, I was liking the husband theory better and better.

“What gym would that be?” Dana asked.

“Palm Place.  It’s just a few blocks down that way, off of Mana Drive,” she said, gesturing to our right.

We thanked the aunt, then piled back into the rental, pulling up to the Palm Place Gym, just where she said it would be.

While the exterior paint job had an island theme - palm fronds and coconuts dominating the motif - the inside could have doubled for any gym back home in Los Angeles.  Rows of machines in various forms of use sat in the center, the scent of stale sweat hung in the air, and a row of mirrors spanned the back wall, where huge guys in muscle T's pumped dumbbells and grunted appreciatively at their reflections.  Among the grunters, I spotted Aki right away, his black ponytail pulled back from his face, sweat dripping off his brow, a look of concentration on his face that was downright scary.  As much as I'd been able to easily put Temoe in the role of windpipe-crusher, Aki fit the bill just as well.

I took a deep breath as we approached him.

“Aki?” I asked, my voice coming out much smaller than I’d meant it to.

Here’s the thing: gyms in general kind of intimidate me.  My idea of a workout is shopping the one day sale at Macy's in five-inch heels for three hours.  I was not what you’d call a sporty girl.  I could work a stepper and a treadmill if a gun were to my head, but all the machines confused me, and the muscle-bound people made me nervous. As much as Dana had tried during the course of our friendship to get me into fitness, it just wasn’t my thing.

And neither were Incredible Hulk look-alikes that just might have hired someone to murder their wives.

“Yeah?” the guy grunted back at me, barely looking up from his set of curls with a dumbbell that looked like it weighed more than I did.  Or at least more than Marco.

“Uh, hi.  I'm Maddie Springer, and I was wondering if we could talk to you about your wife?”

He paused, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror.  “No.”

I clamped my mouth shut.  That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for.

“We're friends of hers,” Dana jumped in.  “From the US.”

“She didn't have any US friends,” Aki said, going back to his pumping.

“We met online.  In a 'ote'a dancing chat room,” Dana continued, using her lying - er, acting - skills to their fullest.  “We happened to be vacationing here and heard the horrible news.”

“Yeah, we wanted to offer our condolences,” Marco jumped in.

I just nodded.  I didn't have nearly the acting skills Dana did.

Aki paused a moment, then nodded at us in the mirror.  “Fine. Thanks.”

Hmm.. a man of few words.  This was going to be harder than I thought.  “Do the police have any idea what happened to her?” I asked, by way of an opening.

Aki shook his head.  “Not that they’re telling me.”

“How about you?” I pressed.  “Any theories about who might have killed her?”

He paused, looking up at me in the mirror again.  “What's it to you?”

I bit my lip.  “We were friends?” I answered.  Only it sounded more like a question.

“There are rumors going around that your wife was sleeping with someone else,” Macro said, coming right out and saying it.  "You think maybe he did it?"

I sucked in a breath as Aki spun around, my eye on the gargantuan weight in Aki’s hand.  One swing our way, and we’d be toast.  He narrowed his eyes into slits, his face turning a shade of red that a beet would be jealous of.

“Who told you that?” he demanded.

“Another friend,” Dana hedged.

He clenched his teeth together.  But, instead of exploding as I expected, he just said.  “Yeah, she was.  So what?”

I blinked.  “Wait - you knew about the other guy?”

“Yeah.  I mean, I didn't know his name or anything, but she told me there was someone else.”