Hibiscus Homicide (Maui Mayhem Cozy Mystery Book 4) Page 6

  Maybe I’ll get Jemma to do it, and I’ll stand lookout. Just kidding!

  I tapped my finger to my chin. But, there was a way I could do this without obscenely breaking the law. I might need to recruit Reese instead of Jemma though. Yeah, this just might work.

  * * *

  “What? Are you serious?” Reese gawked at me with his mouth open wide.

  “Just get her to invite you over with your suave ways.” I wanted to laugh at my own words. Hopefully, that’ll stroke his ego enough to fall for my scheme.

  “Oh, yeah, right. Sweettalk me into being an accomplice in your dastardly deeds.”

  “I have to find out who took that bracelet, Reese.”

  “What if she catches me?”

  “I’ll distract her on the phone long enough so you’ll have time to conduct the search.” My eyes pleaded with him.

  I couldn’t do this with Jemma. It had to be Reese since he’d already established a connection with Theresa at the memorial service.

  “Am I supposed to pillage both their rooms?” my assistant asked.

  “No, just the son’s,” I replied. “And you’re not a Viking marauding villages, so you’re not going to pillage. Sheesh.”

  “How do you know she didn’t take it?”

  “What would be her motive?”

  “I dunno. She hated that woman and maybe taking her bracelet gave her satisfaction in doing it?”

  “Anything’s possible, but I really doubt she took it.”

  Reese brushed his hand over his crewcut. Then as his eyes peered into mine, a slow grin oozed over his face.

  I knew it! I knew he’d be all for it. The rascal had played ‘hard to get’ just to tease me. Mischief was Reese’s forte, right there along with Jemma, so this stuff was honey to a bear.

  “What if the son is home too?” he asked.

  “I doubt she’s going to have you over with her son around. I bet she’ll be thrilled to see you again. What you said about her hitting on you, sounds like she’s lonely and in need of male attention.”

  “Well, just so happens ...” He pulled out a business card from his wallet and flipped it in his fingers toward me.

  I took it from him and read it.

  “So she did want to see you again?”

  He grinned, blew on his fingernails and polished them against his chest.

  “Oh my god, she’s a cougar!”

  “Hey, I don’t mind older women. I ain’t getting hit-on by females my own age so what the hell.”

  “You’d better not moonlight as a gigolo. If you start falling asleep while mixing up ingredients—like mayo for cream cheese—I’ll have to fire your butt.” I laughed.

  “I can handle it. Don’t sweat it.” Then he added, “Not that I’d be taking on another profession. I’m just sayin’.”

  “Yeah, between your timeshare job and working my catering gigs, if you worked a third job, when would you have time for partying?” I smirked.

  At thirty and a bachelor, Reese still had it in him to pound the nightlife pavement. Those days were over for me, and I didn’t miss it one bit. I was never a party girl to begin with anyway. Blaine and I now watch Netflix shows after a hard day’s work, then we hit the sack at around ten every night.

  We’re an old married couple in many ways, while in others, it’s like we’ve just met. We go out on romantic dinner dates still, which I love. And we tease and joke around, which keeps our relationship fun. The day we lose our sense of humors is when our marriage dwindles. I’m not about to let that happen if I can help it.

  “Okay, I’ll setup the date and let you know,” Reese said.

  “Fantastic!” I shined him a big smile.

  Reese wrinkled his forehead. “What if he ends up not having it?”

  I frowned. I didn’t want to think about that. “I guess we’ll then have to rifle through Kyle’s best friend’s house.”

  Reese balked. “No way am I getting involved in that one. Get Jemma to do the dirty work on that guy. I don’t play gay.”

  I laughed. “I doubt you’re his type anyway, Reese.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

  Operation ‘Find the Charm Bracelet’ was underway.

  * * *

  So far, everything had gone to plan: Reese got a date to visit Theresa, while the son was out of the house. My assistant managed to convince Theresa that they should have some alone time. Although, Stevie would probably prefer to be somewhere else anyway, rather than being around his mother when she entertained a guest. Much less a male one.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. Reese said he’d text me from the bathroom when it seemed a good time to make the phone call.

  Biting my lip, I kicked my leg back and forth under the kitchen table. Next to my personal cell phone, I set a prepaid one to the right of it. This cell’s purpose was to make anonymous calls when working on Pako’s cases.

  Next to that was a piece of paper with questions I had prepared ahead to ask Theresa.

  My personal cell buzzed. The text message from Reese came through. My heart beat as though I was about to embark on a secret agent mission. No matter how many times I’ve done this, and knowing that the receiver on the other end had no clue who I was, it still made me quake.

  I picked up the prepaid cell and dialed Theresa’s number.

  First ring.

  Second ring.

  Hmm, I hope she answers. What if she lets the answering machine get it and screens the call? Dang. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll leave a compelling message that will ensure she picks up.

  “Hello?”

  Whew. Good. She answered.

  In an authoritative, professional voice—lower in tone than I normally speak—I said, “Are you Ms. Theresa Long?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “I’m an associate working with Detective Anzo of the MPD. Your son is on a list of people he’s going to be interrogating, and I’m calling to obtain info from you that can help in the case.”

  Mentioning her son instead of just her should keep her curious enough to talk with me.

  “Why is my son going to be interrogated?” Theresa’s voice went into stress mode.

  “The police need some answers to your ex-husband’s and Nani Wilder’s deaths. Stevie was unresponsive right after the incident, which is understandable, he was in shock, but they need to talk with him again.

  “To save you a trip to the police station, I thought we could handle your interview over the phone. But if you prefer to come in, that’s fine.”

  I crossed my fingers, hoping she’d fall for my bluff.

  “Will this take long?”

  Yes! She bit!

  “No, it shouldn’t take too long.”

  This was another of those situations where you don’t tell them it might take fifteen minutes or half-hour or more and just let it happen. If they knew ahead it would take longer than a ‘Number 2’ bathroom break, they might want to schedule it for another time. Can’t have that happen.

  Oh, and just for the record, it’s not me who takes that long to do a ‘Number 2,’ but Blaine does. Yup, waiting for him when he’s gotta go is like waiting for a snail to cross a football field. Seriously. Okay, maybe that’s exaggerating a bit. But just a bit.

  “Okay, hold on, I have company. I’ll need to let him know,” she said.

  “Sure.”

  I knew Reese would wait until he was sure she’d be detained. We thought she might need to inform him about the phone call, so this wasn’t something unexpected.

  In the background, I could hear Reese say, “No problem. I need to go to the bathroom again anyway. My stomach’s not feeling too good.”

  I wanted to laugh. That was not something most people would confess even if it were true. Hope Theresa doesn’t get concerned about him stinking up the bathroom.

  She was back on the phone. Good. And she had a landline. Even better. Easier to keep her there and not go hunting for Reese should she decide to wa
lk and talk.

  “I noticed you used the word ‘interrogation’ in regards to my son, yet ‘interview’ with me. Is my son in some kind of trouble?”

  I had hoped she thought that. Good way to keep her curious and talking.

  “Not yet that I know of, but there are things that have been uncovered in the case that we’re looking into.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  Good, she was nibbling at my bait.

  “I’ll get into that later.” I needed to take back control of the questioning. “For now, I have a few questions to ask you. Was there anyone who’d want to see your ex-husband dead?”

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a second or two.

  “What do you mean? Didn’t Kyle kill himself?”

  “It looks that way, yes, but it might not have been the case. Nothing’s conclusive but we’re investigating all angles.”

  Gosh, I sounded like a cop.

  “Yeah, there was a woman, Olivia Turnball. She harassed Kyle, blaming him for the death of her brother.”

  “Can you tell me more about that?”

  Even though I already knew most of that story, having her retell it bought Reese more time.

  Yup, took about ten minutes.

  “Is there anybody else who might have a motive?” I asked her.

  “Kyle had complained about his sister, Elisse, bugging him to sell their estate. I only heard about this from my son, since my ex doesn’t ...” Theresa paused, catching herself, “didn’t discuss much with me after our divorce. We weren’t exactly on good terms.”

  Reese had mentioned Theresa’s bitterness after Nani snagged him away from her.

  “Do you believe Kyle shot Nani?”

  Most of the evidence so far pointed to him, but thought I’d get her take on that just out of curiosity.

  There was silence again. This time it lasted longer than the last time.

  “Hello?” Just checking to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.

  “I’m giving that some thought.”

  Ah, good, she was still there. Interesting that she’d need to hesitate an answer. Maybe Kyle did indeed have demons.

  “He was never actually violent, but there were a few times in our marriage during a heated argument when I thought he wanted to choke me. It was in his eyes.” She paused. “It gave me the chills.”

  Did Kyle kill Nani after all? It could be that the thought of losing her took him over the edge this time.

  “So, do I believe he could’ve killed Nani?” She sucked in a breath. “Yeah, I think he did. She probably pushed his buttons further than I ever did. What could’ve made him that mad, I could only guess. Maybe she was having an affair.”

  Seemed Theresa didn’t know about Lane. Most likely only Yvonne knew about the affair. I wondered if Theresa knew Nani wanted a divorce though. Then again, probably not or she would’ve mentioned it.

  It was time to bring up the missing clue. “Nani wore a charm bracelet. It wasn’t found on her wrist or anywhere on the crime scene. Do you have any idea what might’ve happened to it?”

  Many mothers have gone through their kids’ things at some point. Some even when their kids have reached adulthood.

  I once caught my own mother rummaging through my desk drawers when I was thirteen. It was just before Maile’s tragedy. I couldn’t believe it. At the time, it angered me that she had infiltrated my privacy.

  Today, if I had a kid, I’d probably do the same thing. I wouldn’t be proud of it, but the curiosity of what your child was up to—wondering if they were messing around with sex or drugs, hoping they were staying out of trouble—was probably what brought parents, especially moms, to do such things. Such was the life of parenting.

  “I have no idea what might’ve happened to Nani’s bracelet. I didn’t even know she wore one. I only saw her once, maybe twice. If I recall, one of them was at Stevie’s high school graduation.”

  “Do you know how Nani’s relationship was with Stevie?” I asked.

  I’d let her tell me about his crush, since she’d wonder how I knew about it. The police wouldn’t have garnered that information at the crime scene, so only if somebody told them about it would they know. She’d then get suspicious just how I happened on that info.

  Theresa might’ve been intoxicated enough at the memorial service to not remember disclosing that to Reese, but I couldn’t take that chance. Obviously, she wasn’t too drunk to remember being attracted to him, so her senses weren’t totally wasted.

  “What do you mean? She was his stepmother. I guess they got along okay.”

  Okay, that’s not what I was getting at.

  “Do you know if Stevie had a crush on Nani?”

  There was a moment of silence yet again.

  “I don’t know about that. But if he did, that’s all it was. A school-boy crush. Most boys have them at some time or other. That’s nothing unusual.”

  She was getting pretty dang defensive and trying to diminish her son’s love for Nani. Theresa’s probably worried the police will make too much of that infatuation. That would be a reasonable assessment on her part, since breaking the heart of an admirer would be a motive in a ‘crime of passion’ murder.

  “I’ll be right there,” Theresa said in a muffled voice. She must’ve placed her hand over the phone’s handset.

  I knew the cue. Reese was done.

  “Is this going to take much longer?” Theresa asked.

  “No, we’re about done here. Thank you for your cooperation. Detective Anzo might contact you soon, but I’ll pass on what you’ve already told me.”

  “I’d like to know when he talks to my son.”

  Sounded as though Stevie might not tell her about it himself. Or else she wanted to make sure she was in on that conversation. Her son was an adult now, so Pako wouldn’t need parental consent to grill him.

  “Thanks again for your time. I’ll let you go now,” I told her before hanging up.

  Whew. Glad Reese got the task done without complications. My wildly thumping heart was mainly for my accomplice, worrying she’d catch him.

  Now I wait to hear back from my assistant on what he found or didn’t find. Hope it was the prior.

  Chapter 11

  “Drats!” I said when Reese told me his mission was unsuccessful. “Are you sure you looked everywhere? Under the mattress? In his underwear?”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna be asking for a raise after what I had to go through over there.” He sighed. “I’m telling you, there’s no bracelet in that guy’s room. Unless he stuck it up his butt, he’s clean of it.”

  “Ew, Reese. You didn’t need to go there.” I made a face.

  “I’m just sayin’. He hasn’t gotten it. In any case, not in his room. Maybe he’s stashed it somewhere else. He might be smart enough to not keep evidence around in case the police come snooping.”

  “You have a point, but to the public the case looks cut and dry murder-suicide, so I doubt he’s been worrying about that. But obviously, he doesn’t have it, so we’re at square one.” I felt as though I were a balloon with rapidly leaking air deflating me.

  Reese shrugged. “Sorry I couldn’t find anything.”

  “Oh my gosh. You did great, Reese. Thanks so much for trying. That took guts to do and I couldn’t have done it without you. Please don’t feel bad. You have nothing to feel bad about. You my dear, Watson, have earned a prize.” For the meantime, I rewarded him an endearing smile.

  “Not a raise?” He smiled.

  “This sleuthing hobby has nothing to do with my catering biz, so you’ll have to take your rewards in treats rather than cash.”

  “Yeah, of course I knew that. Can’t blame a guy for trying though.” He grinned sheepishly.

  “If you didn’t try, I’d have been worried you weren’t right in your head. Gotten a fever or something.” I winked at him.

  “I’m pretty pathetic, aren’t I?”

  “Sometimes. But most of the time you’re a ge
m. We all have our moments.” I sure wasn’t exempt of those myself.

  “Okay, you don’t need to start fibbing to make me feel better. I’m done with my self-flogging. Anyway, I just do it cuz I know you’ll boost up my ego.” He laughed.

  “Do you see this?” I showed him my crossed fingers. “I guess I can uncross them now that I’m done fibbing to build up your self-confidence.”

  We both laughed. How I loved my assistants, who were really my friends first and foremost.

  So now who do we ransack next to score that bracelet? Since our main suspect didn’t have it, that cast a spotlight on Lane Andres. He’d be the next most likely suspect to snag her bracelet as a memento.

  Even though I wasn’t convinced he’d be foolish enough to do something like that, nor any of the remaining suspects, this was the best angle to pursue for now. Finding that bracelet was priority.

  Calling in wannabe supersleuth Jemma Matelli for this one. Even though Lane was far from hankering for a new love interest with his lover fresh in the grave, it wasn’t for that reason Jemma would be a better accomplice than Reese on this mission.

  Even though Reese wasn’t a macho kinda guy, he did sometimes let his competitive masculine ego get the better of him, and I didn’t want that to happen in the middle of a conversation with Lane. What I didn’t need was a pissing match.

  Anyway, both Jemma and Reese have told me they wanted to help with my sleuthing gigs, so it was Jemma’s turn at the dunking booth, err, I mean to bat.

  Now, how do I reach out to Lane to get us over to his house?

  “Oh, there is one thing I forgot to mention ...” Reese said as he headed for the door.

  “What’s that?”

  “Stevie had a photo of Nani in his dresser drawer and it’s like he stuck a pink hibiscus sticker on her hair next to her ear. I thought that was weird.”

  * * *

  “Pako, I know who put the pink hibiscus in Nani Wilder’s hair. He’s got to be the one who put it on her urn too.”

  “Before I ask you ‘who,’ how did you come by this info?”

  I knew he was wondering if I went ahead with my previous plan to break into Theresa’s house.