4 Maui Macadamia Madness (16 page)

It was
all my
fault.
awa
Hawaii was a place to be enjoyed, and
me
being
involved in another mystery spoiled it for everyone. “I’m sorry, guys.” I laid
a hand on Ethan’s arm. “I want to go home.”

“We’ll be back at
the hotel in a few hours.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“No. I mean
home
.”

He glanced out of
the corner of his eye.
“Nope.
Not yet. Not until we
get to the bottom of all this. We showed up on our honeymoon, someone dies, and
you’re left a warning note without us doing anything to get involved.”

“We don’t plan on going
anywhere,” Uncle Roy said. “Do we, Eunice?”

Joe sighed. “We’ll
be staying, too.”

“Don’t sound so
thrilled.” The day’s gloom blew away on a tropical breeze. My family cared
enough to help me.
Even Joe.
He might sigh and groan,
but he wanted to know how this all ended as well as I did. The cop in him
wouldn’t let him walk away before the end of the story. “So, how do we hurry
this thing along? Ethan and I head home soon.”

“We keep you
visible.” Joe straightened. “Not alone, but out where you can be seen. We drop
hints that you know more than you’ve said. We—watch out!”

Ethan swerved,
taking the van up a steep incline, which considering the other side of the road
led off a cliff, seemed the best choice. He hit the brakes and cut the
ignition.

Ahead of us, a red
convertible hung halfway off the same cliff I feared we’d drive off. First, the
car appeared to have smashed into the side of a hill, then according to tire
marks, skidded toward the cliff. I didn’t know what kept it from diving into
the ocean, only that I prayed it would stay where it was.

“Ethan, there’s
still someone in the car.” I clutched his arm, knowing without him saying a
word that he and Joe would attempt to rescue the person.

With the imminent
danger, the surf sounded louder, menacing, an angry god waiting for sacrifice.
I closed my eyes and prayed: For their safety and for the unknown person in the
car.

“Stay here,” he told
me.

I never would
understand why he kept telling me things he knew I couldn’t do. As soon as he
scooted from the van, I did the same and was followed by Aunt Eunice and April.
We stood on the side of the road and held hands while Ethan and Joe approached
the other vehicle. Aunt Eunice’s lips moved in silent prayer. I uttered my own,
pleading with God not to allow the car to fall.

Ethan and Joe both
shook their heads, Ethan pressing numbers on his phone, clearly not knowing how
to proceed without backup. The person in the car hadn’t moved. Were they alive?

“Check for a pulse!”
Seemed a logical thing to do.

“I will,” Joe answered.
“Once I can figure out how to without me and the car going over.” He stepped
closer.
“Sir?
Can you hear me?”

“Wait.” Ethan held
out a hand. “That’s Franklin, one of the guests at the B & B.”

Where was Maryann? I
released Aunt Eunice’s and Alice’s hands and scoured the thick foliage on the
side of the road. There!
A flash of bright yellow and blue.
“Ethan! Joe!”

I knelt beside
Maryann’s body and felt her neck for a pulse. I found one. A purple goose egg
rose above her eyebrow and the right side of her face was scraped. It looked
like she might have been thrown from the car when it collided with the hill.

Ethan joined me.
“Ambulance is on its way, but it’ll be a while. I don’t think Franklin’s alive.
Joe wouldn’t let me get too close, but his neck is sitting at an odd angle. The
car’s ready to go any moment.”

“She’s got a nasty
bump on her head. Do you think it’s safe to move her to the seat of the van?”
Anything to get her out of the dirt and somewhere more comfortable.
She’d feel horrible enough to know Bruce was dead after they’d so recently
argued.

“I think so. Joe?”
Ethan glanced over his shoulder.

“Her husband is
definitely deceased. I checked for a pulse. Yeah, I think we should make her as
comfortable as we can. It’s getting ready to rain and she’s lying in a ditch.”
Together, he and Ethan carefully moved her to the middle bench seat of the van.

I wet a rag and
wiped as much of the dirt from Maryann’s face as I could. She groaned a couple
of times, but didn’t open her eyes. “Maryann?” I hated to disturb her, but
wanted to ask a few questions. What person in their right mind would speed on
these roads?

“Bruce?” Her eyelids
fluttered then opened. Panicked, she slapped at my hands and struggled to sit
up. “Where’s Bruce?”

“He’s by the car.” I
couldn’t tell her he was dead, I couldn’t. “What happened?” I waved Joe over.

“We were coming
around a curve and the car sped up. Bruce tried to slow down, but he said the
brakes weren’t working.” She put a hand to her head. “Oh, my head hurts.
Where’s Bruce?”

Tears sprang to my
eyes as Joe took her hand in his and crouched beside her. “We’ve called the
ambulance to help you, Mrs. Franklin. I’m…I’m afraid Bruce
didn’t
 
make
it.”

Her cry ripped at my
heart.
Right along with the notion that our Maui killer had
claimed another victim.
What were the chances that a rental car’s brakes
would fail? I mean, they kept these cars in mint condition. No, with the other
things that had happened recently, I felt pretty certain that someone had
wanted the Franklins dead.

I stood and leaned
against the car. That ‘someone’ was ticking down a
list,
at least it seemed like to me, making the deaths look like an accident. A list!
I remembered the cigar box. I needed to check it as soon as we returned to our
room. Something told me my procrastination could have let a clue go by
undiscovered.

Chapter
Nineteen

Sunburned, exhausted, and with a camera brimming with pictures of the
most beautiful scenery, I plopped on the bed and stared at Mrs. Aldrich’s box.
What I really wanted to do was set aside anything that had to do with the
mystery and enjoy what was left of my honeymoon. Obviously, that wasn’t going
to happen.

Against the backdrop
of Ethan’s tuneless singing in the shower, I slowly opened the lid of the box
and peered in. A few sheets of paper and a couple of photographs were inside.

I lifted a
photograph and studied the beach it depicted. Two men, their faces in shadow,
stood beside the water. From their body language, it was obvious they fought
about something. The next picture was taken through a window where a man, his
back to the camera, riffled through a dresser drawer. A dark smudge on his
upper arm disappeared under the sleeve of his tee shirt. Yes, Mrs. Aldrich had
done some snooping, but her photography skills left a lot to be desired.

After returning the
photos, I pulled out the paper. Every current guest residing at the
Wahine
Bed and Breakfast was listed. Mr. Jamison’s name was
crossed off. The
Wahine’s
were also listed, with
stars beside their names. Did the stars mean Mrs. Aldrich suspected them, or
did it mean she thought they were in the clear? Instead of giving me answers,
her notes raised more questions.

Ugh. I fell
backward, banging my head on the headboard. That’s what I deserved for my
momentary temper tantrum.

Ethan stepped out of
the bathroom, a towel wrapped low on his hips, while he scrubbed at his head
with another towel. “What’s wrong?”

“I looked at Mrs.
Aldrich’s notes, such as they are.” I moved the box closer to him by using my
foot.

“That’s the beach
right outside.” He pulled out a photo.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty
sure.”
He picked up the
other picture. “And this is Mr. Jamison’s room, I think. They all kind of look
the same.”

I snatched the
pictures from his hand. “You’re right. Why didn’t I see it? Any idea
who
the guys are?”

He shrugged. “Not a
clue.”

I scooted to a
sitting position and hugged a pillow. “I need to ask some pointed questions at
supper. Speaking of which, I need to get showered and dressed.”

“You look beat.”
Ethan glanced at the clock. “Why don’t you rest, and I’ll order in. You can ask
questions in the morning.”

I took his advice
and snuggled down. When I woke, the sun had fully set. Wondering what Ethan had
done to occupy
himself
, I grabbed a clean set of
comfie
clothes and went to take my shower. By the time I
was finished, murmuring voices drifted from the living area. One glance at the
bed showed the cigar box missing. I moved to the living area where my family
huddled around the coffee table and box.

“This is definitely
right out your window, but the angle doesn’t come from in here.” Joe tapped the
photo against his leg then moved to the arcadia door. “I’d say the photographer
hid in those bushes.”

“What do you think
the man was looking for in Jamison’s room?” I sat next to Ethan.

“It isn’t Jamison’s
room.” He turned and stood beside me to point at the other photo. “It’s the
Aldrich’s, I think.
Unless Jamison wore lipstick.”

Sure enough, a tube
of peach, the same shade Mrs. Aldrich used to wear, was lying on the dresser. I
studied the photo closer. In the corner, a floral fabric hung out of the
closet. She’d taken a photo of her killer!

“My name’s on that
list.” Uncle Roy crossed his arms. “I’d like to see some low-life snake come
sniffing around here.”

“I want you taking
precautions, Roy.” Joe shook his head. “This isn’t funny. Nobody at this hotel
is safe until this murderer is caught. I need to have a serious talk with
Manano
. Summer, I’m taking these photos with me.”

“Not until I make
copies.” I grabbed the box and its contents. “I made a promise to Mr. Aldrich,
and I intend to keep it. I’m going to the business center.”

“Not alone, you’re
not.” Ethan stood and grabbed the card key to our room. “Joe, we’ll bring these
by your room when we’re done.”

“Sounds
good.”

We left as a group,
the other four going to their cottage, while Ethan and I headed to the main
building. The business center was a fancy name for a closet of a room that
housed one computer and a printer that also acted as a fax and copier. Black
and white, but at least we’d still have the jest of what was on the photos.

Ethan waited
patiently while I made the copies,
then
took my arm to
walk me to Joe’s room. I wanted to ask what when on in his handsome head, but
decided Ethan needed a few minutes to work through something. I was torn
between wishing he’d take me back home to Arkansas or stay in Hawaii to finish
what someone else started.

We left the building
and took the long way to Joe’s cottage.
The path that led
along the beach.
I slipped my hand into Ethan’s, and he gave it a gentle
squeeze.

“Want to take a
moment to watch the waves?”

I nodded. “I’d love
to. There hasn’t been a lot of romance on this honeymoon, has there?”

“No, and we need to
remedy that.” He led me to a small rise in the sand.

We sat, his arm
around my shoulder, my head on his chest, and watched the waves caress the
beach. God often outdid himself with his creation, and the view ahead of us
gave testimony to that fact.

The moon cast a
silver path over dark water. What would it be like to walk that path?
Hand-in-hand with Ethan, just to discover where such a heavenly
path would go.
I sighed and snuggled deeper. Ethan kissed the top of my
head. We’d definitely have to come back and have a proper honeymoon.

“
Shhh
.”
Ethan straightened.

Closer to the water,
a man walked, head down, scraping his feet through the wet sand. He stopped and
peered across the ocean waves.

“That looks like the
same profile in Mrs. Aldrich’s photo.” I tried to peer at him in the dark, to
no avail. “Should we say something to him?”

“No.” Ethan stood
slowly and pulled me behind a hibiscus bush. “Just watch. Maybe we can follow.”

The man seemed deep
in thought, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. From his slim build, I
guessed he might be a young man.
A native, even.
If my
guess was correct, it would lower the suspect pool. I shook my head. We didn’t
even know whether the young man was up to no good, and here I was jumping to
conclusions, as usual.

After several
minutes, he strolled a few yards farther down the beach and plopped onto an old
sofa someone had left under a palm tree. I’d always figured it belonged to a
vagrant, but maybe not. Maybe it was a cheap way for people to enjoy the view.

“Has it occurred to
you,” I said, tugging on Ethan’s arm to get his attention. “That most of our time
on this beach has been to spy on people?” I’d rather be curled up in a beach
chair or snorkeling.