Killer Confections8 Delectable Mysteries(45)
In life and in death, Keiki had impacted the people whose paths had crossed hers. The central question we needed answered was whose path crossed hers last?
Mother put down her cup and picked up her ever-present legal pad and pen.
“I called Robert while you were sleeping, and he offered some excellent suggestions.”
I nodded while I crunched on a piece of bacon. A former homicide detective could definitely provide a few helpful tips.
Mother ticked items off as she read them from her list.
“We need to make sure Regan has contacted their attorney, whether Dave wants one or not. If he thinks he’s innocent, he might waive his rights which Robert said would be a mistake. I’m sure Regan is as anxious to have Dave released as you and I are.” Mother picked up her coffee and eyed me over her cup. “At least, I hope she is. That girl has exhibited some strange behavior.”
I crunched and nodded once more. Regan seemed more tightly wrapped than my Saran Wrap. Was there more to their marital issues than she’d already told me?
“Did Robert have any suggestions for our investigation?” I asked.
Her eyebrows drew together as she tapped her pen on the glass-topped table.
“He certainly did,” she said in a frosty tone. “He suggested we leave the detecting to the Hawaii police whom he was certain were capable of arresting the guilty party without any help from us. Men!”
“You’re never going to convince a homicide detective we’re better suited to discover the killer. I don’t know if the police are biased against both Dave and Regan or if they think they have sufficient evidence. But we know they’re not guilty.”
“Exactly.” Mother rubbed her pen against her lower lip. “Are you completely positive Regan is innocent?”
“Honestly, I’m not certain of anything except Dave isn’t a murderer. I’m also convinced he knows something he isn’t sharing. Now that his situation has changed for the worse, maybe he’ll come clean with us.”
“Do you believe he was having an affair with Keiki?” she asked.
I shrugged. “At this point, I could care less whether Dave had an affair or not. That’s for him and Regan to work out. But we need to find out where he went the night Keiki died. Did he have a rendezvous with her or not?”
“If Dave wasn’t with his wife at the condo,” Mother remarked, “then Regan doesn’t have an alibi either.”
“What about that mystery man Keiki was dating? It might be Dave but it might not.”
“That’s true. But how can we find out who she was seeing?”
“We could question Keiki’s mother. Girls tell their mothers everything.”
She peered at me over her rose-colored reading glasses. “Just like you share everything with me?”
“Point taken.” I grinned. “But it’s worth a try. Keiki’s new older boyfriend could definitely be her killer. And if she didn’t confide in her mother or stepsister, maybe one of the other dancers would know his name.”
“If it has anything to do with hula, Stan would enjoy investigating,” Mother added.
“Yep, the next thing you know he’ll be sporting a trench coat and fedora over his coconut shells and grass skirt.”
Four hours later, we met up with the gang. By then, I was ready for a nap, and hoped a second breakfast might energize me. I turned the menu over looking for side items and was shocked at the cost.
The hotel’s regular blend of coffee was three dollars per cup with refills, but one-hundred-percent Kona coffee was five dollars. The stuff really was liquid gold. When Jay, our waiter, arrived to take our order, I asked if he could distinguish between the two.
“Easily,” Jay said, “but I’ve lived on the island all my life. Of course that doesn’t mean I can afford the premium stuff. Not on my wages.”
Nice, not too subtle ploy to get a bigger tip.
“But there are plenty of folks who can’t tell the difference between Folgers’ instant and pure Kona coffee.”
“That’s Brian.” Liz gently punched her husband’s arm. “As long as it’s hot, he doesn’t care if it’s fresh ground beans or two-year-old powder.”
Brian threw her the look that sent defense lawyers quivering, but Liz just responded by placing a raspberry lip print on his cheek.
“Bring Laurel and me a cup of each, please,” Mother asked Jay. “We’ll see how refined our coffee palates are.”
Jay returned a few minutes later with two large carafes and several empty mugs, which he set in the center of our table. “I thought it would be more fun if you all joined in.”