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Killer Confections8 Delectable Mysteries(11)

By: Cindy Sample Connie Shelton Denise Dietz


It was almost two in the afternoon, so we continued south, discovering a restaurant next to Magic Sands Beach. In winter, I’d been told, you could lie on the beautiful sandy beach one afternoon then, after a storm-filled night, discover it magically gone the next day.

We had no problem finding a choice table with an ocean view. The lava rock barrier protecting this restaurant from the pounding surf appeared higher and more secure than Daiquiri Dave’s exterior wall. Something my brother would undoubtedly regret for the rest of his life.

The server had just taken our lunch orders when my cell rang. I glanced at the name revealed on the screen and hit the accept button. “Dave, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s been a long…” his voice broke and I remained silent while he regained his composure. “Sorry about that. What are you guys up to now?”

I shared our current location then paused when Liz waved a half-eaten wedge of pineapple in my face, mouthing something unrecognizable. “Hold on a minute.”

“Are he and Regan still coming to the luau tonight?” Liz asked.

I shook my head at my friend. Liz probably thought a pig roast would be the perfect way to cheer up my brother. Although she might be right. Our company could prove a good distraction for him.

Dave said he needed to track down Regan and check on her plans. I was surprised they still hadn’t communicated, but perhaps she was unable to connect with Dave while he was with the police.

“Have you talked with Keiki’s sister?” I asked.

“Not yet. I wanted to call you first. I’m not sure Walea or any of her family will even speak to me.” He sighed so deeply my phone shuddered. “I still can’t believe Keiki fell over the wall. And why was she there all alone so late at night?”

“How do you know she was by herself?”

He paused. “She must have been alone or whoever was with her would have called 911 when she fell. Wouldn’t they?”

Not if they were the person who pushed her over.

“Do you know who found her?” I said.

“The officer said some guy staying at the hotel next door got up to go to the bathroom around three-thirty in the morning. He decided to sit on the lanai and catch a moonlight view of the waves crashing on the rocks. Instead he saw the surf crashing …” another catch of his breath before Dave finished, “just below Keiki’s broken body. Geez, Laurel, what if my negligence led to her death? How am I going to make this right with her family?”

“Did the police say it was definitely an accident?”

“No, in fact it sounded like they thought the opposite. They weren’t particularly forthcoming when I asked questions although they sure asked a ton of their own.”

“Like what?”

“They questioned me about Keiki’s background, how long she’d worked for us. If she had any enemies or anyone who disliked her. Current and previous boyfriends. If I thought she was using drugs. Weird stuff like that.”

“Those aren’t unusual questions,” I said.

“Well, I’m not the crime show buff you are. I’m strictly a Kitchen Confidential junkie.”

“Do they think Keiki overdosed? Or committed suicide?”

“Oh, man. I can’t imagine any of those things.” His voice caught. “She, Keiki, had so much going for her.”

“Was there evidence of a struggle?” I asked.

“I don’t know. All I heard was the cops found bits of broken glass scattered on the rocks way below the restaurant, but that could have happened days ago.”

“What did they––”

“Hey, Regan’s on the line. Gotta run. I’ll see you later.”

A loud click. I found myself staring at my phone while four pairs of eyes stared at me.

“Why didn’t you let me talk to Dave?” Mother complained. “Is he all right?”

I nodded and slid my phone back into my tote. “He sounded as good as one would expect.”

“Did he learn anything from the cops?” Brian asked. “They didn’t test his DNA, did they?”

I frowned, trying to remember standard operating procedures on my favorite crime shows. “Dave didn’t say anything about DNA testing. Would the cops automatically test everyone they bring in for questioning?”

Brian pondered my question before replying. “It depends whether they found anything indicating the fall wasn’t an accident. I don’t know what kind of shape she was in after plummeting twenty feet.”

Liz and I both grimaced at the unpleasant image of Keiki’s crumpled form.

“If there was any evidence indicating a struggle between her and someone else,” Brian said, “they would take the DNA of potential suspects.”