Dying for a Daiquiri (30 page)

Since Amanda didn’t have to be at Koffee Land on Saturday, she devised a plan to incapacitate me until my flight home, leaving her free to pursue her marital dreams. Her parents lived in the Waipi’o Valley so she was familiar with all of the trails and the tour excursion times. All she had to do was take one of their ATV’s and catch up with our group. Her intent was just to hurt me, not send me to my death. While I was happy to discover Amanda didn’t intend to kill me, that didn’t make her any less of a looney tune.

Detective Lee joined Mother and me. “Ms. McKay, thank you for, um, subduing the suspect.”

“Anytime.” I smiled. “As you can see, Amanda provided you with a full confession.”

He frowned. “I’m not sure how the Prosecuting Attorney will feel about her babbling on the air. We’ll worry about that later.” He tossed a hopeful glance my way. “You’re going home tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Yes, I hate to leave the island though.”

“And we’ll be sorry to see you go.” Lee managed to keep a straight face. “Let me know if you’re ever on the island again.”

“Do you want to get together?” I asked, surprised by his invitation.

“No, I want to know when to plan my own vacation.”

We spent another hour with Lee and his men, but after Amanda’s televised true confession I had little to add. I was ready to take off when Steve appeared by my side.

“I don’t suppose you’d like a permanent job working on a boat?” He grinned. “We provide great benefits.”

I smiled. I had no doubt working for Steve would be beneficial for any single woman. “That’s a great offer, but it’s time for me to get back home to my kids and my…”

“Boyfriend,” Steve interjected. “He’s a lucky guy.”

Well, technically, Tom had yet to get lucky, but one of these days––

I blushed. “I hope you didn’t think I was leading you on. As you may have gathered, Tom and I still have many issues to resolve.”

“Love is complicated,” he replied. “Just let me know if you ever want to sail away into the sunset.”

“I will, although next time I’m going to require that your crew complete personality profiles in advance.”

He shook his head back and forth. “What are the odds someone that cute could be such a nut? I had a sit down with Timmy yesterday and told him he needed to confess what he’d been up to before I let him back on the boat.”

“Was it drugs?” I asked.

“Let’s just say he was taking care of a “financial” transaction for his older brother. Timmy’s father passed away two years ago. After losing Joey, Timmy couldn’t bear the thought of something also happening to his brother, Mike, his only remaining relative. Mike had been hanging out with a bad crowd. Timmy swore he and his brother will never get involved in illegal deliveries again. It’s not easy for these young guys, but I’ll be there if he needs someone to talk to.”

“He’s lucky to have someone like you,” I said. “By the way, did Timmy ever confess to pushing me overboard?”

Steve looked sheepish. “He came clean but I’m still not certain how to handle his confession. He saw you struggling with the life vests and went to help. A gust of wind knocked him into you, and then you went over the railing. He was completely freaked out, but before he could say anything, Rafe noticed you in the water. Between Timmy’s previous threats to Keiki and his other illicit activities, he was afraid you as well as the authorities would assume he’d pushed you on purpose. Since you were rescued so quickly, he decided to keep mum. He asked you to please forgive him.”

“I knew it was Timmy,” I cried, feeling vindicated in my assumption. But with so much tragedy occurring in the young man’s life recently, I couldn’t bear to be responsible for him going to jail for an inadvertent push.

“Tell him I’ll forgive him if he promises the next time he knocks a passenger overboard, he’ll confess a lot earlier.” I hugged Steve good-bye and was pleased that nary a body part tingled at his touch. My hormones had finally gotten their act together.

It was getting late and I wanted to see Tom before visiting hours ended. I didn’t know if he would be well enough to travel home the next day with the rest of us.

When Stan, Mother, and I arrived at the hospital, a nurse informed us Tom had already checked out and returned to the hotel.

“Such a shame he left so soon,” she confided. “His George Clooney eyes were so distracting I almost forgot to unplug his IV before he left. Do you know if he’s on the market?”

I informed her Tom was not on the market. He had a girlfriend, one who couldn’t wait to be in his arms. I just hoped he felt well enough to put his arms around said girlfriend.

Stan played chauffeur which played havoc with my nerves. He insisted on driving under the speed limit so we could savor our last night on the island. I had mixed emotions about returning home. I couldn’t wait to see my children. But much as I enjoy working at Hangtown Bank, experiencing life on the island and meeting people who’d had the courage to pursue new careers had me thinking.

And where did Tom and I stand? Who would decide when and if we would take our romance to the next level?

“You seem fidgety, honey,” Mother called from the back seat. “I sense it has something to do with Tom.”

Is she perceptive or what? Or are all mothers of adult children intuitive about their grown-up kid’s needs?

I twisted in my seat and peered into the back of the car. “I guess all the marital melodrama of the last few days has me wondering if I’m ready to be in a relationship. It obviously takes a ton of work to keep a marriage on solid ground. Maybe I should stick to reading about romance instead of trying to maintain one.”

“Reading is fine,” Stan interjected, “but it’s no substitute for the real thing.”

My mother leaned forward and patted me on the shoulder. “When it’s right, you’ll know. Trust me.”

Trusting my mother was easy. Trusting my own instincts was the real issue.

My phone beeped as I inserted our room key into the door. I pulled my cell out of my purse and checked my three new text messages, all from Tom.

Message 1: You made the news once again.

Message 2: Are you okay?

Message 3: I’m lonely.

I grinned at the last message. Did Tom truly miss me or was he missing the excitement of his normal life, juggling Kristy and his career? And an occasional date with me. I dialed his cell.

“So now you’re catching a killer a day?” He laughed. “What are you going to do when you return home? Join the Sheriff’s department?”

“I think I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet of underwriting loan files. At least no one ever wants to kill me at the bank.” I stopped then amended my statement. “Unless I reject their loans. So what happened with you? I thought your doctor insisted you remain in the hospital another night.”

“Lee called to check on me. I think it bothered him that a Hawaiian hostage situation resulted in the shooting of an out-of-state police officer. He offered to spring me from the hospital and sent someone to bring me back here. Of course, that was before you and Dave tackled Amanda and screwed up Lee’s day. Nice throw, by the way.”

I giggled, relieved Tom sounded so chipper. I was also relieved all the island drama that had tormented us was over.

“Did Amanda’s confession make the local evening news?”

“Not just the local news. They’ve been re-playing your tackle and her confession during commercial breaks all afternoon. Not to mention national news. Jimmy Kimmel thinks you’re a hoot!”

I plopped on the bed and slipped out of my shoes. “Jimmy Kimmel? Must be a dull news day.”

“Maybe. Is Amanda as cuckoo as she sounds?”

“More than you can imagine. I think she’s still hoping the callers will vote for her despite her arrest. If Detective Lee hadn’t commandeered her phone, she’d be tweeting from the cellblock.”

“Enough about that wacko. Right now, I’m imagining that I’m holding you in my arms.” His low baritone warmed my heart and every nerve in my body.

“Do you feel well enough for me to come up for a few minutes?” I asked. My heart was pounding louder than the music playing in the poolside bar down below.

“Please.”

I spent an hour making myself presentable for Tom. My skirmish with Amanda had added bruises to the tie-dyed collection left over from my ATV incident. Although considering Tom’s somewhat precarious medical condition, it wasn’t likely he would be privy to any of my battle scars.

Would he? I mulled over his comments and wondered how perky he felt. Was the island working its magic on the homicide detective or was I working my own magic on him? Did my crazy escapades turn him on? Or off?

I knocked on Tom’s hotel room door then realized he’d left it propped open. I didn’t want to be responsible for his medical condition worsening, so I planned to stay a few minutes then return to my own room.

“Tom,” I called out softly. I pushed the heavy door open before closing it behind me. Tom sat in bed, leaning against the headboard, his leg propped up on two overstuffed hotel pillows.

For a guy who’d been shot less than thirty-six hours earlier, he looked darn good. He’d even managed to get some sun. Lying on the stairs of the zip-line tower with noontime rays beating down on your bloodied body is one way to get a tan.

I raced to Tom’s side then stopped, afraid any sudden movement would result in a 911 call. I kissed his forehead and perched on the side of his bed.

Tom grabbed my hand and held it, neither of us talking for a rare minute.

“Did you know it sometimes takes a near-death experience to open a person’s eyes?” he asked me.

“This entire vacation has been an eye-opener for me,” I said. “Wondering and worrying about the difficulties of maintaining a relationship.”

His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. “So after what you’ve encountered this week, you’ve decided the difficulties aren’t worth the reward?”

I looked away as I contemplated his question. “No. What I’ve learned is that a couple has to keep the channels of communication open at all times.”

Tom rubbed my thumb and my nerve endings jumped around like a game of Tiddlywinks.

“Do you think you and I are ready to make that channel a two-way street?” he asked.

I hesitated then nodded. He bent his head down. As our lips met, the connection felt like more than just the heat of lust or passion. It felt right.

Tom drew me close and draped his left leg over mine. I pulled back for an instant afraid I might hurt him.

“Are you okay?” I asked, breathing hard, my head nestled against his chest.

He stroked my hair lightly. “I have never felt better.”

“I don’t want to do anything to make your injury worse.”

His deep laugh and response was all I needed to hear.

“Haven’t you ever heard that old expression––no pain, no gain?”

THE END

Laurel decided to hold a blog contest for daiquiri recipes and other tropical concoctions. A committee of cocktail connoisseurs sampled the recipes and proclaimed these very tasty winners.

THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN (Christine Hyde and Robin Ylitalo)

Fill a champagne flute halfway with your favorite champagne

Add one shot Malibu Rum

Add orange juice to below rim

Top with Grenadine

PAMA-TIKI (Sherry Joyce)

½ oz. PAMA Pomegranate Liquer (Pomegranate juice works too)

1 oz. white Rum

2 oz. pineapple juice (Fruit for the day)

1 ½ oz. sweetened coconut milk or cream of coconut (good for your bones, not your waistline

Pour mixture in a tall glass filled with crushed ice. Add pineapple wedge for garnish. Turn on beach music, close your eyes and lay on the floor. You’ll end up there anyway!

PEACH FUZZ (by Linda Lohman)

Into a blender add:

1 6oz can frozen lemonade

a cup or two of ice

sliced ripe peaches (to the top of the blender)

1 6oz can Captain Morgan’s Spicy Run

HEMINGWAY DAIQUIRI (as modified by Heather Haven)

1 1/2 oz light rum

1/2 oz maraschino liqueur

1/2 oz grapefruit juice

3/4 oz fresh lime juice

1/2 oz simple syrup*

2 dashes grapefruit bitters*

*optional

I admire Ernest Hemingway for many reasons, and second to none is his love for the cocktail. Add to ice in a shaker and shake that kitten until it purrs. Pour into a martini glass and add a toothpick with a grapefruit section and a maraschino cherry on it. Yummy!

THE DAIQUIRI TO DIE FOR (Peggy Partington)

One bottle of Rum (light or dark)

One lime

Two shot glasses or just a straw

One tropical beach

One handsome young man with six-pack abs

Put them all together and enjoy!

Many thanks and hugs to my critique group for their astute observations, unfailing support and willingness to answer hundreds of emails from me: Kathy Asay, Pat Foulk, Rae James, and Terri Judd. Thanks to friends who were willing to read the early drafts and provide excellent suggestions: Bonnie, C.J., Carole, Donna, Ed, Jana, Jonathan, Kristin, Liana, Linda, Lisa, Lynne, Mary Beth, Michele D. and Michelle K.

A special
mahalo
to everyone on the Big Island of Hawaii. A big thank you goes to Lt. Gerald Wike, Criminal Investigations, and Chris Loos, Media Relations for the Hawaii Police Department. I appreciate the advice I received from the staff at Kona Zip-line, Les at Ride the Rim ATV, Brenda and Joy at Kona Stories, and Lili Alba for her hula and tour assistance.