Honeymoon in High Heels (6 page)

“And you weren’t angry about this?” Marco asked.  I notice
d
he was eyeing the weight, too, bouncing on his toes, as if ready to jump out of the way at any time.

Aki’s one empty fist clenched.  “Hell, yeah, I was angry.  Bitch went behind my back with some sleezeball.”

“So what did you do?” Dana asked.

“Divorced her,” he said, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

I frowned.  “You and Ahlia were divorced?” I asked.  Ramirez hadn't mentioned that, and I wondered if Aki had forgotten to mention it to the police as well.

“Well, we were getting there," he backtracked.  "I filed papers last week.  She begged me to take her back, but no way was I gonna be with her after that, you know? I mean, how could I ever trust her again?"

I nodded.  "Good point." And one that put a whole different spin on his motive.  If he was already going through divorce proceedings, why bother killing her?  I could think of only one reason.

“But what about the money?” Marco asked, voicing my very thoughts.

Aki spun on him, eyes narrowing again.  "What money?"

"Her inheritance," Marco said.

"What do you know about that?" he asked.

“We were very good friends.  She told us everything,” Dana said, covering.

Aki paused, his eyes going from one face to another.  Finally he said, “Look, Ahlia had a pre-nup drawn up before we were even married.  That money was hers.  I didn't have access to it when we were married, and there was no way I was getting any in the divorce.”

“But now that she’s dead...” Dana trailed off, letting the insinuation hang in the air.

Aki took a step forward, his hand clenched around the weight. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“Nothing!” I quickly said, grabbing Dana by the arm and pulling her backwards with me.  “Nothing.  All we’re saying is that we're just leaving now.”

I watched a vein in Aki's neck bulge to epic proportions as we made our way out of the gym.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Dana said as we hit the sunshine outside and let out a collative breath.

"That's one word for it," I agreed.  Another might be "terrifying". 

“I think he killed her,” Marco said.  “I mean, why divorce her when he could kill her and inherit everything?”

“Yeah, but if that was the case, why file for divorce at all?” I asked, mulling over that fact.  He hadn’t struck me as the brightest bulb, but surely he must know that filing cast him in suspicious light.

“Maybe it wasn’t planned," Marco countered.  "Maybe he found out that he wasn’t getting any money, then strangled her in a fit of rage.”

“Maybe,” I conceded.  “Or maybe it was the other man after all.”

“Temoe?” Dana asked.  “Why?”

“Well, Aki said that Ahlia begged him to take her back.  Maybe she broke it off with Temoe, and he wasn’t happy about it. Strangling is a crime of passion, after all.”

Dana nodded.  “So it had nothing to do with the money?”

“I wouldn't say that,” Marco said.  “Maybe Temoe saw his sugar mama slipping away when she wanted to get back with her husband.”

“So, we’re back at square one," I sighed.  "Either of them could have done it.”

“So how
do we figure out which one?” Ma
r
c
o asked.  “It may be just me, but neither seems like the cooperative type.  I couldn't see a spontaneous confession forthcoming.”

He had a point.  Which meant one thing:  If we couldn't get a confession we had to catch the killer in the act.

*  *  *

Forty minutes later we were back at the Island Paradise Village, standing in front of Don at the front desk. 

“I need to leave a message for a couple of people,” I told him.

He gave me his customary bored expression.  “Fine.”

“Can I use some paper?” I asked.

He pulled a couple pieces of hotel stationary from a drawer and handed them to me.

“And a pen?” I asked, flashing him my best smile.

He rolled his eyes, then slid a pen across the counter to me, before turning to go help a couple check in.

“Thank you,” I called to his retreating back.  Then I quickly scrawled out two identical messages as Dana and Marco read over my shoulder. 

I have proof who killed Ahlia.

“You do?” Marco asked.

I shook my head.  “No, silly, I’m bluffing.”

"Oh.  Clever," Marco said, nodding.

"Thank you."

I continued writing.

Meet me on the beach after the luau tonight, or I take it to the cops.

I stood up straight, surveying my work.  “What do you think?”  I asked Dana.

She pursed her lips together.  “You really think this will make the killer confess?”

I shook my head.  “No.  I think
it
will make the killer come after me.”

“You’re bait!” Marco cried.

I squirmed.  I wasn’t keen on the word, but I guess that was generally the idea.

“I don’t like it,” Dana said, shaking her head.  “It sounds dangerous.”

Marco waved her off.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll protect Maddie.”

Dana and I turned to look at him as one.  He was still wearing his pink ensemble, but to it he'd added hot pink sunglasses and a floppy silver hat shot through with sparkling threads. 

“Okay, fine,” he conceded.  “
Dana
will protect Maddie.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said.  “Look, you two hide on the beach, and whichever one of Ahlia’s men shows up, we know that’s the killer." 

Okay, I’d be the first to admit that as far as plans went, this one was kinda flimsy.  But the truth was, unless someone had a better idea, this was my best bet to getting Ahlia’s killer behind bars and my husband into a hot tub.

"And what happens when you confront the killer?" Dana asked, hands on hips.

I shook my head.  "No confrontation.  As soon as he arrives, you two pop out of hiding.  He can't very well strangle all three of us, right?  Chances are, he'll just run off.  But, we'll know who the guilty party is and can tell Ramirez."

Dana pressed her lips into a thin line, but didn't argue.  Truth was, I didn't think she had a better plan either.  

I folded both pieces of paper, then wrote Aki's and Temoe’s names on the outsides before hailing Don again.

He looked up from his intent staring at the walls, then slowly ambled over to our group again.  “Yes?” he sighed.

“Can you make sure that these get delivered before the luau tonight?” I asked.

Don looked down at the folded papers.  “Aki and Temoe?”  He frowned.

“Yeah.  I’m, uh, still looking for those dance lessons,” I lied.

I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but he finally shrugged and grunted in the affirmative.  “Fine.”

“Thanks so much,” I said, as we walked away.

Now, all I had to do was wait and hope the killer stuck to my plan as well.

Since there were a couple of hours left until that night’s luau, Dana, Marco and I figured we might as well put them to good use.  So we went shopping.  Marco and Dana for souvenirs and me for a fabulously sexy outfit to wear that night.  If all went well, I planned to be kicking off my honeymoon for real this time.

Marco finally settled on a pair of huarache sandals dyed bright turquoise, and Dana bought a hand-beaded bikini.  I went with a bright blue sarong, tall strappy heels, and a tight white top that showed off every curve my pre-wedding dieting had blessed me with.  Once back at the resort with our purchases, we parted ways, promising to meet up again at the luau for Operation Catch-A-Killer.  (Okay, so we weren't any better naming these things sober than we were drunk.) 

I did a quick shower and blow dry, and was just putting the finishing touches on my make-up when I heard the door to our suite open, a card key drop onto the dresser, and a man sink into the king-sized bed with an audible sigh.

"Is that you?" I called out.

“Yep,” Ramirez responded.

I popped my head out from the bathroom to find him laying spread eagle on his back.   I frowned.  "What are you doing back?”

He turned his head toward me.  “Gee, happy to see you, too, honey.”

“Sorry.”  I felt myself blush.  "I didn't mean it that way.  I
am
happy to see you.  Very.  I'm just surprised.  I thought you were working the case.”

“I was,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows.  “All day.  Autopsy reports, witness interviews, fingerprint analysis.”

“Fingerprints?” I asked, honing in on the word.

He nodded.  “None that amounted to anything.  Fellow dancers, her husband.  All the usual people that you’d expect her to come into contact with.”

"What about the autopsy?" I asked, grabbing a pair of dangling earrings and popping them into my ears to cap off my outfit.

"About what you'd expect.  Ahlia died of asphyxiation, her windpipe crushed."

Which didn't take a genius to figure out, given the way I'd found her.

“Anyway, I’m beat," Ramirez said.  "Wanna order in?”  Then he paused and took in my outfit.  “Or are you on your way out somewhere?”

I bit my lip.  Ordering in with my husband in the honeymoon suite was
exactly
what I wanted to do.  What I had wanted to do since we got there.  However, tonight I had another date to keep. 

“Actually, I was going to meet Dana and Marco at the luau tonight,” I reluctantly told him.

Ramirez groaned.  “Haven't you had enough of those fire dancers yet?”

If only he knew…

“Yes,” I said, honestly.  “But Dana and Marco haven’t seen them yet.”

He let out a big breath.  “Okay. Let’s go to the luau.  Again,” he said, dragging himself up off the bed.

“Oh, you want to…. I mean you’re going to come, too…” I trialed off.

He paused, a frown settling between his brows.  “You don’t
want
me to come with you?”

“No, no, of course not.  I mean, of course I do,” I quickly backtracked.  Though having my detective husband tag along on our trapping mission did throw a small complication into the mix. 

“Good.  Give me five minutes to shower,” he said, heading into the bathroom.

*  *  *

Fifteen minutes later we had snaked our way down the beachfront path to the restaurant again, meeting up with Marco and Dana at the hostess kiosk just as the sound of ukuleles signaled the start of the luau.   

Marco raised an eyebrow, and Dana looked from me to the cop at my side. 

“Ramirez is joining us,” I said, pasting a big smile on my face that I hoped said, "ix-nay on the ap-tray."

Luckily, they seemed to catch on, staying mute as the hostess seated us at a table for four near the back of the room.   Four Mai Tais appeared in front of us as the drum music started.  The dancers made their way onto the stage, and fire lit up the room amidst delighted gasps from the crowd.  Marco clapped his hands and bounced up and down in his seat, giddy with lust as the dancers twirled their batons, their well-defined pecs dancing in the firelight.  Even Dana seemed enamored, staring open-mouthed at the display.  I, however, was antsy.  I sipped my drink, fidgeted in my seat, and chewed on my lip until I was sure I had eaten off all of my Raspberry Perfection lipgloss.   One of those dancers was our killer, and in just a matter of minutes I was going to find out which one.

My stomach was such a ball of anticipation that I hardly touched my mushy stuff or the pork-with-head-still-attached.  The fire dancers ended their set, the 'ote'a dancers replacing them as another course arrived.  By the time the final act took the stage and dessert was brought out on colorful carts, covered with decadent creations, I was a bundle of nerves. 

It was now or never. 

"I’m just going to go powder my nose,” I announced to the table, pushing my chair backwards.   I shot Dana a meaningful look.

“Oh, right.  Me too,” she chimed in. 

“Me three!” Marco said, following our lead.

Ramirez frowned, his eyes going from one to the other of us.  He might be tired, but he was no dummy.

“What?” I asked, blinking innocently.  “You know girls like to go to the restroom in tandem."

Ramirez cut his eyes to Marco and raised an eyebrow. 

“Boys powder their noses, too,” Marco protested.

I wasn’t sure my husband was totally buying that statement, but before he could protest, I pushed away from the table and bolted.  “Be back in a sec,” I called over my shoulder, ushering my look-outs down the restroom corridor.

As soon as we were out of Ramirez's sight I led them to the side door to the alleyway.  I quickly pushed through, making myself ignore the remnants of fingerprint powder and crime-scene tape still lingering in the spot where I'd found Ahlia.  Instead, I headed for the beach, my silent posse buzzing with excitement behind me.