O'ahu Lonesome Tonight? (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series #5) (27 page)

“Well, you call
me if you
thinkin
’ about going there.”

I spent two
hours at a pricey bridal salon up on
Beretania
Street. Okay, the gowns were ridiculously overpriced. Okay, the place was like
something out of Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills with pinched-looking sales ladies
in black tailored suits and severe hair styles. And okay, they gave me the
once-over and ignored me, probably hoping I’d check one of the price tags and
hit the door.

But the dresses
were divine. And I don’t use words like ‘divine’ lightly. The fabrics, styles
and workmanship were beyond anything I could’ve found on Maui, even if I’d had
time to order a custom gown. The three dresses I picked out for Farrah averaged
over three-thousand dollars apiece. I’d never tell her that, of course. Her
gown would be a gift. But if she planned to schedule a ‘trash the dress’ photo shoot
I’d flash her that price tag faster than you could say, ‘No way, Missy.’

I asked the
sales clerk—or excuse me, bridal gown consultant—if she’d prepare the dresses
for shipment to a neighbor island. Gone are the days of dragging a wedding gown
through the airport and getting thumbs-ups and smiles from fellow passengers.
Now gowns are required to be boxed for shipment in the cargo hold.

I got into my
rental car and took a deep breath. This was my last shot. Knowing I’d been
fibbing when I told
Moko
I had no intention of doing
so, I drove out to the boat yard at Barbers Point.

The place was
locked up. As I expected it would be. After all, it was Saturday. And
Moko
had mentioned he still wasn’t working so the place was
probably just as locked up during the work week.

The eight-foot
chain link fence was forbidding; especially the last foot. It was concertina
razor wire.

I tried the
gate. It was secured with a cheap keyed padlock. Who runs hundreds of yards of
chain link topped by razor wire and then locks it up with a six-dollar lock? Oh
well. Their stupidity was my ‘get into jail free’ card. And yeah, I meant
‘into’. The signs warning that ‘trespassers will be prosecuted’; and ‘video
surveillance cameras in use’; and ‘guard dog on duty’ were all staring me in
the face. I knew that once I broke that lock and went inside I was shopping for
handcuffs.

I picked up a
softball-size chunk of concrete. The lock broke on the fifth try.

I sprinted
across the parking lot and up to the front door of the main building. Just in
case, I tried the door. I’d heard funny stories from Hatch about firemen who
broke down a door to get in during a fire while the door had been unlocked the
whole time. Never hurts to expect the best.

I considered
calling
Moko
but dismissed it. I couldn’t drag him in
on this. If I got caught and went to jail, I’d have a criminal record but who’d
care? When was the last time a potential client asked me if I’d ever been
convicted of a felony?

 I took
out my own key ring and tried each of the keys. One brand actually slipped
easily into the lock but once it was in there it was as tight as a stepfather
ordering cheap booze for his snotty step-daughter’s wedding. It wouldn’t budge.

The windows
were low and single pane. I paused, but then thought, why not? I was already
trespassing. The upgrade to breaking and entering couldn’t tack on that much
more time.

I couldn’t
believe how easy it was to lift the sliding window out of the frame. It
reminded me I should seriously consider window locks on my home up in
Hali’imaile. Although I doubted anyone could fiddle around jimmying my windows
without my super-size nosy neighbor across the street calling the cops.

I hoisted
myself up into the window frame and pushed the clattering blinds out of the
way. I was in the reception area. I still had to get through the doors of the
private offices.

The door to
Stu’s office was unlocked. I went in and pulled the legal file out of the metal
file cabinet in the corner. It was still missing the insurance documents for
the key person life insurance.

I had to break
the glass in Barry’s office to gain access to his files. But once in, I was
happy to see that Debbie had replaced the legal file where I’d found it before.
And the insurance document was safely tucked in the back, where it was supposed
to be.

I flipped
through the document but what I needed was actually spelled out on the first
page. I took the insurance document with me and retraced my steps to my car.

It was show
time.

CHAPTER 38

I called
directory assistance and asked for two numbers: the office number for the
insurance agent who’d issued the policy and Barry Salazar’s home number. I
wasn’t surprised when the first number was rattled off without incident but the
second number came back as ‘unlisted.’ Barry had struck me as the kind of guy
who thought himself above answering calls from disgruntled clients, unpaid
employees, and guys conducting a ‘short survey’ that actually would go on for
fifteen minutes.

No problem. I’d
jotted his home address off a magazine label from the boat yard office. Seems
he thought keeping a copy of
Yachting
in the waiting room classed up the
joint.

He lived in
Ko
Olina
, an upscale community
north of Barbers Point.
Ko
Olina
is best known to mainlanders as the home of the ‘Mickey Mouse beach;’ a pricey
kid-friendly Disney resort where grandparents can bring the grandkids in hopes
of getting a ‘Best Grandpa in the World’ coffee mug for Christmas.

All the
different areas of
Ko
Olina
are gated, with bored guards who will let you in if you look even halfway
presentable or if you happen to be female. I fit both categories so it took
less than a minute for the guard to not only raise the entrance bar but to also
provide me with a map and directions to Barry’s front door.

I parked on the
street and walked up to the house. It was the same sort of mini-mansion that
Stuart had lived in, but the big difference was that all the houses here looked
nearly identical. It was a mystery to me why anyone would pay millions of
dollars for a home that looked exactly like the one right next to it, but hey,
I don’t live on
O’ahu
.

I rang the
bell. It was getting close to dinner time so I hoped either Mrs. Salazar (if
there was such a person) or the hired help would be at home getting dinner
ready. Sure enough, a minute or two later, a yoga-svelte blond woman answered
the door.

“Aloha,” she
said. Her face wore that wary look that people in gated communities get when a
total stranger comes to the door. It wasn’t an everyday event.

“Aloha,” I said
back. “Is Mr. Salazar at home? I’m
Pali
Moon, the
sister of Mr. Salazar’s partner, Stuart Wilkerson.” I wondered if maybe I
should’ve said ‘former partner’ but I didn’t want to delve into the details.

“He’s at work,”
she said. “He should be home within the hour. Do you want me to call him?”

“Is he at the
boat yard?” I said.

“Yes, he
doesn’t usually leave there until around seven.”

I thanked her
and went back out to my car. Seems
Moko
wasn’t the
only one keeping the wife out of the loop on his unemployment.

I thought for a
minute and then hopped back into the car and back onto the Farrington Highway.
It was only a few miles back to the boat yard. Maybe Barry had been called away
when I’d shown up earlier.

Sure enough,
when I got to the boat yard the gate was open. Barry’s big Beemer was parked
right outside the office door. I parked and walked toward the office. I glanced
over at the window I’d jimmied earlier. It looked good. No doubt Barry had seen
the damage to the lock on the front gate but I figured he’d never think it was
me so I planned to keep my mouth shut about it.

The door to the
main office was unlocked and I went inside.

“I’m back here,
sweetheart,” Barry yelled from his private office.

I went back
there and poked my head through his door. “
You expecting
someone, Barry?”

He looked
flustered but tamped it down quickly. “Yeah, I thought you were my wife.”

“Do you have a
minute?” I said.

He looked at
his watch. “I should be getting home. My wife’s making dinner.”

“I thought you
just said you were expecting her here.”

He glared but
said nothing.

I waited him
out.

“What do you
want?” he finally said.

I used to be a
lousy liar but the past year has provided me with a lot of practice. I launched
into my story. “I thought you may like to know that you won’t be getting the pay-out
from the key person insurance policy like you planned. I wouldn’t want you to
perjure yourself for nothing.”

“What’re you
talking about?” he said.

“The four mil insurance policy that you and Stuart had on each
other?
You know, the so-called ‘key person life insurance’ that the
company gets when one of you dies? Well,
that’s
not
gonna
happen.”

“I can’t
believe I’m even talking to you about this, but humor me. How do you know about
the insurance?”

“Because my brother confided in me.
He told me he felt bad
because he canceled the policy. He’s been pocketing the premiums for the past
year. He needed the extra cash to qualify for his loan on the
Kahala
house. He wanted me to tell you he hoped you’d
forgive him but he never dreamed you’d ever actually collect on the insurance.
I called your insurance agent, you know, Larry
Plumlee
down in Pearl City? Anyway, he confirmed it. No policy in force.”

“That’s
impossible. Larry wouldn’t allow Stu to cancel that policy without my approval.
You’re lying.”

“Why would I?”
I said. “What’s in it for me? I just want you to know what’s at stake when you
lie to the police and tell them you were with Natalie the night Stuart went
into the canal. She’s probably pushing you to go to the police right away.
She’s counting on you going this weekend before you have a chance to talk to
Larry.

“Think about
it,” I went on. “If you’ve already given the police a statement and then you
try to retract it, they’ll start crawling all over this place. You’ll have
established yourself as a liar and four million bucks is plenty of
motive
to dump a partner who can’t swim into a large body of
water. They’ll no doubt think you and Natalie were in cahoots.”

“No! It was all
her. She came to me with this crazy plan to get out of her marriage and still
remain in good standing with the
Wilkersons
. That
name still opens a lot of doors around here, you know. She knew about the key
person insurance. She said if I—”

“If you what,
darling?” Natalie was now standing in the doorway to Barry’s office. She looked
completely serene, in spite of—or maybe because of—the Sig Sauer P938
semi-automatic she was pointing at Barry.

“What are you
doing?” he said.

She laughed.
“You ever hear the old saying, ‘
it’s not hard for three people to keep a
secret as long as two of them are dead
?’ Well, here we are—three people
with a secret. I’m taking bets on which two are going to end up dead.”

She pulled the
trigger without aiming. The report from the gun was deafening. Barry ducked and
narrowly missed getting winged in the shoulder.

“Oh my,” she
said. “Stuart always wanted me to go with him to the shooting range. I guess
since I never did it’s probably going to take more bullets.” She shrugged.
“That’s okay, I’ve got lots.”

She lifted the gun
and aimed at Barry’s head. He held up a hand as if to block the bullet and she
shot right through it. He cried out in pain and clutched his injured hand to
his chest. In the blink of an eye his hand and his entire shirt front turned
red.

“That was pretty
fun,” she said. “Now while you bleed a little, I’m going to see about taking
down another Wilkerson.” She turned and aimed the gun at me. “You know, I’d
totally planned on Stuart drowning. I couldn’t have dreamed the city would kill
him with poop. And now they’re so, so sorry.
Millions of
dollars sorry.”

She laughed and
popped a bullet into the wall. By now my ears were ringing so badly I could
barely make out what she was saying. But I’d heard enough. The room was small
and it wouldn’t take long for her to get more accurate with the gun. I took a
couple of deep breaths and centered myself.

I’d get only
one chance to disarm her. I hated guns. They were so one-sided; so cowardly. If
I was successful, I looked forward to seeing how well she did up against someone
who was willing to get their hands dirty to take her down. If I was
unsuccessful, well the only consolation there was I wouldn’t be around to
second-guess myself.

CHAPTER
39

I vaulted from
the chair screaming my time-worn battle cry and twisted my body just enough to
plant my shoulder into her solar plexus. She went down hard, her eyes widening
before becoming two hot coals of fury. But through it all, she managed to keep
a grip on the gun.

I dug a knee
into her groin. Okay, it wasn’t a move I’d get away with in a tournament, but
this was no tournament. The room seemed oddly quiet except for the
deep-throated moaning coming from Barry. He was slumped over, as if passed out,
but the moaning told me he was still conscious.

I shoved my
hand over her mouth and nose. Again, not ladylike and certainly not a
sanctioned move, but she was a lot stronger than she looked and I was pretty
sure every drop of adrenaline available to her was coursing through her veins.