“Oh, my!” She gasped as she looked at the steep drop. “That poor young woman. Do you think she stayed late to clean up and got too close to the ropes? Dave will be horrified if this accident had anything to do with poor workmanship.”
Dave would be even more horrified if he ended up arrested for murder.
Our group spent the next fifteen minutes sharing everything we knew with the two officers. Our knowledge ranged from zero to zilch. None of us had met Keiki before last night, but she was alive and well when we returned to our hotel. At least I assumed she was alive. Somewhere around my fourth daiquiri, temporary amnesia set in. With my brother and mother as chaperones, I hadn’t worried about letting my curly mop down for a change.
When the officers finished with their questions, it was finally my turn. “Where is my brother? Is he under arrest?”
My mother morphed from a tranquil tourist into her normal intimidating real estate broker persona. “Do we need to hire an attorney? You realize my son is a well-known business owner with a restaurant to run. Not only must he find a replacement for Keiki, but yellow crime scene tape strewn all over isn’t going to help his business.”
I flinched at her less than sympathetic comments, but even at sixty-two, my mother was prepared to defend her forty-something chicks. I glanced in the direction of Alii Drive, trying to assess the financial impact Keiki’s death might have on the restaurant. Based on the substantial number of gawkers wandering up and down the street taking photos with their phones, business might increase out of morbid curiosity.
Stan chose that moment to jump into the conversation and insert his sand-covered flip-flop in his mouth. “Yeah, just because Dave and Keiki were making whoopee––” Stan abruptly stopped talking as six pairs of eyes zeroed in on him.
“Making what?” Detective Lee’s heavy black brows merged into one dark suspicious furrow.
Stan’s cheeks turned redder than his sunburned forehead. “Um, they were making whoopee pies, um, I mean poi.”
“What the heck is whoopee poi?” Liz asked.
Stan sank lower in his chair and mumbled, “You know, when they mash the taro roots, they yell out, um, whoopee?”
If I had a poi pounder right now, I’d be using it on Stan’s head. His sunburn must have turned his brain into mush.
The officers abruptly stood, walked away and conversed. Stan slumped in his chair looking wilted as Liz and I glared at him. My mother appeared baffled by the “whoopee” conversation, and I saw no point in enlightening her.
The officers returned to our table and announced we were free to leave. They also informed us they’d finished questioning Dave before we arrived. Before we departed, I needed to get one crucial issue resolved. I asked the detective to follow me over to the bar so I could prevent anyone listening in, especially big mouth Stan.
“You still haven’t confirmed if Keiki’s death was an accident or murder,” I said.
“That is correct.” Lee’s comment as well as his blank expression revealed nothing.
“What do you think?”
I sensed a glimmer of a smile forming on Lee’s otherwise stoic façade, but it was probably a reflection of the sun on his Ray Bans.
“I think you and your family should try to enjoy the rest of your vacation. It may be a day or two before the restaurant can reopen. Do you have any upcoming excursions planned?”
Was the officer attempting to be sociable, or did he want our whereabouts in case anything suspicious turned up? Either way, there was no reason to hide the group activities Liz had mapped out.
“We’re planning on driving to the volcano tomorrow then visiting Koffee Land. My brother’s wife works there so she’s going to give us the grand tour.”
“That should be very enjoyable although your sister-in-law may not be available tomorrow. When is your group scheduled to fly home?”
“Sunday. Is that a problem?”
He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card. “Just make sure you contact me before you leave. And Miss McKay––,” Lee paused to remove his sunglasses then leaned close. A hint of lime aftershave made me crave a piece of key lime pie. His next statement made me crave something more potent.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Don’t let our island’s beauty and serenity lull you into a false sense of security. Sometimes the emotions seething below a person’s calm surface can create far more damage than a volcanic eruption.”
Chapter 7
Less than five minutes later, our group was seat-belted and motoring down Alii Drive. Every time I thought of Officer Lee’s warning, goose bumps shimmied up and down my arms. It made me suspect that they suspected Keiki didn’t accidentally fall to her death.