Burned

“Here we go.” Will indicated a table that was off to the side, under a large palm tree lit with small white lights. A waiter, upon seeing the big boss, hurried over.

Regan and Kit ordered glasses of wine while Will decided on a vodka and tonic.

“Coming right up,” the waiter a

“Thank you, girls, for joining me.” Will looked around cautiously to make sure no one was within earshot.

Kit looked at Regan and raised her eyebrows as if to say, “What gives?”

Regan shrugged.

After making sure the place was secure from eavesdroppers, Will cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair, which only made his anxiety worse. It somehow felt thi

“What’s wrong?” Regan asked quickly. May as well make him get to the point, she thought.

“Right.” Will nodded as beads of perspiration rolled down his forehead. He cleared his throat. “I feel there are people out there who are intent on ruining the good name of this hotel. There have been lots of little things going wrong. Maybe it’s some of the employees. And the drowning today of Dorinda Dawes…I just don’t think it was an accident.”

Regan leaned forward. “What makes you say that?”

“I saw her before she left, and she said she was going straight home.”

“Did you tell the police that?”

“Yes. But they knew she often walked along the beach to get home. They said she could have decided to stick her toes in the water. It was pretty warm last night.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

“No.”

“Regan,” he continued, “I know you have a great reputation as an investigator.”

“You do?”

“I looked you up on the Internet.”

“Oh.”

“I was wondering if I could hire you to spend the next couple of days talking to people around here. See if you pick up on anything unusual. Lately we’ve had more than our share of petty thefts. We’ve had tubes of suntan lotion dropped into the public toilets, which caused several floods. Several people got sick at the salad bar, which is unusual because we’re very careful about our restaurants. We pride ourselves on the quality of our food. Now Dorinda’s drowning. It’ll be all over the local papers tomorrow. I’ve already had calls from stringers for national papers-all because of that royal lei around her neck and the coincidence that it matches the lei that will be auctioned off at our ball Saturday night. That ball has to be a success!” Will picked up his glass and took a large sip of his drink.

Regan waited. She knew he had a lot more to say.

“I hired Dorinda to work here. I know she got on people’s nerves, and now I feel somehow responsible for her death. If she hadn’t been working here, she would have been someplace else last night. And if there is a murderer at the Waikiki Waters, who’s to say he or she won’t strike again? There’s something going on around here, and I would be grateful if you could help me out. Maybe her killer is in one of those rooms right now.” Will gestured to the towers in the distance.

Wow, Regan thought. He might be overreacting, but who knows? “I understand your concern,” she assured him quietly as the waiter approached and served them their drinks.

“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Brown?”

“Thank you, but no.”

The waiter tapped his tray with his fingers and retreated to the bar.

Regan took a sip of her wine. “If there is someone who is responsible for Dorinda Dawes’s death, that person might have had nothing to do with her personally. Her death may have been a random act of violence. It may be related to the stolen lei. I’d love to help you out, Will, but I’m only going to be here until Monday.”

“That’s okay. I’d just like to get your read on things. And you’ll be here for the ball. Who knows what someone might pull that night? We have a security staff, but I’d like to have someone around who isn’t obviously checking things out for the hotel. I don’t know what else to do. You can probably get people to talk. Just play the nosey tourist-or whatever it is you do. Maybe Dorinda did accidentally drown. I don’t know. But did you ever get the feeling that there’s something that’s not quite right but you can’t quite put your finger on it?”

“Sure,” Regan replied.

“Sometimes when you’re the boss, people don’t want to tell you things. You, I bet, will get people to talk. I just don’t know who to trust anymore.” Will took another swig of his drink. “I’ll be frank with you, Regan. I’m also afraid I’ll lose my job. This all happened on my watch, and the big boys are not happy at all. Dorinda Dawes made herself known around town, not always in the best way, and they feel her life and death reflect badly on the hotel. And on me in particular because I hired her.”

Kit looked at Regan with a raised eyebrow.

He knows more than he’s telling me, Regan thought. “Do you live at the hotel?” she asked him.

“No. My wife, Kim, and I have a little house up the coast. It’s about forty-five minutes away.”

“Your wife?” Regan tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. He wasn’t wearing a wedding band, nor did he have the aura of a married person. Whatever that aura was.

“Yes. We’ve been married for two years. We visited her mother in northern California for Christmas. She stayed on for a few extra weeks with our son. They’ll be back tomorrow night.”

This is getting more interesting, Regan thought. Did he have a personal interest in Dorinda Dawes? Maybe he’s afraid his name will come up in an investigation, and he wants me to help prove he’s not involved.

Kit had listened throughout. Regan had noticed that Kit also seemed surprised when Will said he was married. But Will did seem genuinely anguished. He has a wife and child to support, and he has a good job. If he loses it, he could be out of luck. Regan knew it wasn’t easy to find another job like his in Hawaii. There were too many people who wanted to fill those “executive” spots and live in paradise.

Regan was interested in pursuing the case, but she had come out here to be with Kit. As if Kit could read her mind, she said, “Regan, I know you want to do this. I don’t mind. As long as we can spend some time together.”

“Ain’t love grand?” Regan asked.

Kit laughed. “Yes, it does help that Steve suggested he come over and join us at the beach tomorrow.”

“Lucky for both of us.” Regan turned to Will. “All right. I’ll help you out. But right now I need to get some sleep. I’m still on Los Angeles time. Should I meet you in your office tomorrow morning?”

Will looked as if some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you, Regan. I’ll pay you whatever your rate is. And your next trip here is on me.”

“Fine,” Regan agreed quickly. “Nine o’clock okay?”

“Perfect. Just tell them at the front desk that you have an appointment with me. They won’t question it.”

“Good enough. I’ll be there at nine.”

Will pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow as Don Ho’s famous song “Tiny Bubbles” floated through the air.