Killer Confections8 Delectable Mysteries(25)

“Yeah, about that––” I tried to interrupt Dave, but he kept talking, his voice sounding happier than I’d heard in a long time.

“I know it’s horrible that Keiki was murdered, but you can’t imagine my relief that negligence wasn’t the cause of her death. I called Regan with the good news, but she didn’t pick up. Maybe we can make a fresh start now that…” His voice trailed off for a minute. “Anyway, with the crime scene tape down, the place is ours again. How about we have a celebration tonight? I’ll cook an authentic Hawaiian dinner for just our family and your friends. What do you say?”

There was really only one thing I could say.

“You may want to put that celebration on hold. Regan was just arrested for Keiki’s murder.”





Chapter 17





A loud thud echoed over the phone line. Either the phone dropped out of my brother’s hand, or he was knocking it against his hard head.

“I must have misunderstood you,” Dave replied. “I thought you said Regan was arrested.”

“That’s exactly what I said. Three police officers just took her away. One of them was the detective we met the day they found Keiki.”

“Why would they arrest Regan? What did they say?”

“Not much. Brian attempted to question them, but they didn’t share anything. The officers are bringing her to the Kona station, and she can call you once she’s been processed. Do you know a good criminal attorney?”

“Of course not. What kind of question is that?”

“A practical one. Regan will need a defense lawyer to represent her.”

“Damn it. There are probably plenty of people who wanted to kill Keiki.”

My blood started to boil hotter than the coffee I’d drunk earlier. “Why did you withhold that kind of information from us?”

The phone went silent. Then Dave said, “Keiki was a complicated person. That’s all I’m going to say. Please come to the restaurant, and we’ll talk when you all get here. In the meantime, I need to take care of my wife.”

The line went dead.

“What can we do to help, luv?” Liz’s lower lip trembled, a sure sign she was upset, but trying to keep it together.

My mother slid her arm around my best friend’s waist. “Liz, our family has created more grief for you than any bride should have to contend with. Maybe you and Brian should take off on your own and spend some well-deserved time alone. You don’t need to be involved in any more of our family crises.”

“Thanks, but this is a group honeymoon, and Brian and I are here for you. Right, honey?”

Brian smiled and clasped her hand. “Of course, we are. Now let’s drive back to Kona and come up with a plan.”

We spent the drive debating the best way to proceed. Mother wanted to stop at the police station to see how Regan was doing, but Brian doubted we’d be allowed to see her. Stan insisted he should infiltrate the dance troupe to snoop and find out who might have wanted Keiki dead.

“I doubt if Walea will let you dance with them again,” I said to Stan. “I’m sure she hates Dave, Regan, and anyone affiliated with our family.”

He stroked his chin. “Yeah, but we had such a good time practicing that routine together. What if I called her and asked for a private lesson or two?”

“Her family is busy preparing for Keiki’s funeral,” I said. “Now that the autopsy has been completed, won’t they release the body fairly soon?”

“I would imagine within a day or two,” Brian responded from the driver’s seat. “That’s standard procedure in California and it’s probably the same over here.”

By the time we reached town, the sun had gone to sleep. The parking lot in front of the restaurant remained empty, but the crime scene tape was gone. A sign at the entrance informed potential customers that Daiquiri Dave’s Lounge was temporarily closed due to renovation. The only remodeling I could think of was fortifying the lava rock wall Keiki had tumbled over.

Now that they’d arrested Regan, the police must be certain she pushed Keiki over the wall. Even though my sister-in-law disliked the dancer, she wouldn’t have resorted to killing her. Would she? That unsettling thought sent shivers from my neck to my tailbone, but I immediately shoved it aside.

The restaurant appeared closed, but the door opened when Brian turned the knob. Inside, the sound of men’s voices drew us toward the bar area where Dave perched on one of the bamboo bar stools. A bottle of vodka and a glass filled to the brim sat in front of him. Steve, who occupied the adjacent stool, sipped his own glass of colorless liquid.