Wedding Day Dead: A Murder on Maui Mystery (28 page)

As I was leaving the doctor’s office, I got a call from Mara Winters, Hani’s attorney. She invited me to join her for lunch. Ironically enough, it was the same sushi restaurant in Kahului I ate at with Alana on my last return trip to Maui.

I entered the restaurant and was pleasantly surprised to see Detective Glen Adcock in a direct line between myself and Mara, who was in the back of the room. I approached Adcock as he wolfed down a spicy tuna roll.

“Hello, Detective,” I said.

“So what smartass comment do I get to hear today?” he asked.

“No rude comments. Just wanted to say hello.”

“I suppose you expect an apology from me or something. Well you’re not going to get one,” he said.

“You were just doing your job, and we all make mistakes, maybe just not as often and as monumental as you do. Good day, Detective. Enjoy your lunch.”

Adcock gave me a two word response that I shall not repeat here so I don’t offend those readers who are easily offended. But for those of you who have to know, it started with an
f
and ended with a
u
.

I continued my journey to Mara’s table. She stood, and we shook hands. The waitress approached, and Mara ordered first. I then ordered my usual and a glass of water.

“Thank you again for representing Hani,” I said.

“I should be thanking you,” she said.

“Well, I like to think if she had gone to trial, you would have displayed your talent for the courtroom and gotten her free.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Alana filled me in on what happened in California. Very impressive.”

It was now my turn to say “thank you.”

“What did you want to see me about?” I asked.

“Have you heard the phrase ‘the poor are crazy, but the rich are eccentric’?”

I nodded.

“My firm represents a wide variety of clients, many of whom are eccentric. Sometimes they have certain issues that need services more than I can currently provide. Many of these services should probably be brought to the attention of the local police, but the department has a few problems officers, like Glen Adcock over there, who love to leak embarrassing details about the rich to the media. I assume jealousy has a lot of do with it. Unfortunately, I can’t stop the leaks. I was thinking, though, it would be a good idea if I could offer you as an alternative.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” I said.

“From time to time, I’d like to hire you to investigate certain issues my clients may be having. You would, of course, have to keep everything strictly confidential, but if you did have to go to the police, I like the fact you have an inside source who would respect our request for handling these matters in a delicate fashion.”

“You’re referring to Alana.”

“Of course. I certainly wouldn’t expect her to do anything illegal. I just like the fact that you could keep a member of the police informed without the whole department knowing about it.”

“Your offer sounds interesting,” I admitted.

“Good. We’ll take it on a case-by-case basis. You can base your fee on the complexity of the investigation. We’ll mark it up and pass the expenses onto the client. I’ll let you know when something pops up that could use your expertise. You’re free to say no at any time.”

A few days after my lunch with Mara, I signed up for sailing lessons. It was a pretty intensive course, but I felt pretty confident by the end, and it gave me the certification I needed to be able to rent a boat from the marina staff.

I invited Alana to sail with me the weekend after I completed the course. She was a bit hesitant, which I can understand, but she agreed in the end. I didn’t rent a huge sailboat, but it was big enough for Alana and me and Maui the dog. It also had a motor should I get us in a tough spot.

I didn’t tell Alana my planned course, but she laughed when we rounded the coast and came upon the secluded beach Panos had brought us to last time. I dropped the anchor and lowered the ladder over the side.

“Care for a swim?’ I asked.

I removed my swimsuit, grabbed Maui the dog, and hopped overboard.

“He doesn’t need a life jacket?” she joked.

“I think all dogs just know how to swim,” I said.

Maui is small, though, so I helped him get to shore. He took off running up and down the beach the moment his paws hit the sand.

I watched Alana remove her swimsuit and dive overboard. We spent a few hours on the beach, alternating between sunbathing and wading into the water to cool down. Maui found a patch of shade under a palm tree. He spent most of his time sleeping on his back.

Once the sun got lower in the sky, we swam back to the boat and motored back to the marina. It was a glorious afternoon, and I was convinced I’d discovered my next hobby beyond photography. Unfortunately, this was a much more expensive hobby, but I had no plans to purchase a boat. As they say, the two greatest days in a person’s life are the day they buy their boat and the day they sell it.

Alana had an early start scheduled for the next morning, so I drove her home from the marina. When I got back to the house, I found Foxx lying on the sofa, watching another one of those murder shows on the Discovery Channel.

“What is it with you and these shows?” I asked.

“They’re candy for the brain. You don’t have to think that hard,” he said.

“Apparently. Where’s Michelle?”

“Ah, I don’t know. We’ve been kind of cooling things off,” he said.

“Really, why’s that?” I asked.

“More me than her. I just don’t want to settle down. She was talking about moving in here. I’ve got you and the dog here. Where was she going to go?”

“Don’t let me get in the way. If you want her here, I can easily find another place,” I said. “Unless you were just using us as an excuse.”

Foxx pointed at me.

“There’s my perceptive guy,” he said.

“Got it,” I said.

“By the way, a letter came for you.”

Foxx leaned over and picked up an envelope off the table in front of the sofa. He tossed me the letter. It spun in a circle and landed a few feet from me. Maui the dog raced to it and grabbed it in his mouth. He took off toward the bedroom.

“Come on, dog,” I said.

Foxx laughed.

I followed the dog into my bedroom. He ran under the bed, so I couldn’t reach him. I left the room and got him a treat to lure him out. It worked, and I was able to retrieve the letter, now torn at the edges, while he chewed on the rawhide bone.

I saw my name and address on the envelope. The return address listed the name of a prison. I opened it and saw it was from Daphne. There was only one sentence handwritten on the paper.

He promised to marry me.