Getting Lei'd

By Elle Druskin

Honeymoon in Hawaii. Stephie's dream finally came true. One little problem. Make that one big fat problem. No husband. Jilted on her wedding day Stephie can't face the humiliation so she's flying solo in the worst way possible. Her life can't get worse. Or could it? Honolulu Detective Kai Kealoha nees to meet a woman and settle down but for now he's on the trail of a serial husband killer and Stephie looks like a prime suspect. Yikes! Can the Islands work their magic and give both a happily ever after? Come to Hawaii with Stephie and Kai where aloha is real and enchantment happens.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elle Druskin
• Release date: Jul 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201859411

Book preview

Acknowledgments:

My deepest thanks to the following people who all helped in bringing this book to life.

To Amy Stone Murai, the first friend I made in Hawaii and a long time Island girl. We go all the way back to college. A long time ago! I still recall one of our Sunday morning get togethers during which we discussed various hair disasters, don’t ask me why, which set in motion the idea for this book. Honestly! That’s all it took.

To Trudi Hagen, beta reader extraordinaire who always gets me. If she is laughing, that’s always a good sign.

To Lea Schizas, a dear friend and editor who gives me excellent advice and also always gets me and my sense of humor.

To the many members of The Litforum.com a place I have been hanging out for over 20 years.  Early snippets of this book were critiqued by so many of these lovely readers and writers and they all helped in making this a better book.

Chapter One

Stephanie Oliver’s temples pounded with the mother of all headaches. She tried meditation. Deep breath in. Hold. Exhale. Useless. One index finger pressed on pressure points on the other palm. Worthless. She plugged the headphones into her ears and dialed up soothing music. Pointless. Darn it. Not the slightest bit of relief.

Jilted at her own wedding. In front of the entire town. How could this have happened?

Anger battled with confusion and a megadose of humiliation. Was this her fault? Was she a bad person? Stupid? Naïve? All three?

Stephie scooched down in her seat. She wiggled and tried to find a comfortable position but it was hopeless. Her feet lost all feeling somewhere over the Mississippi. Was it her imagination or were airline seats getting shorter? Definitely narrower. Shoulder muscles screamed from sitting upright for nine hours. Her knees bumped the seat in front of hers. One more hour before the torment would come to an end.

The baby across the aisle in Seat 9D upchucked. Stephie wrinkled her nose. The infant’s mother wiped the disgusting mess and slouched in exhaustion. Stephie glanced at the man beside her in Seat 9A. He wore one of those sleep mask thingies, although why anyone needed it on a night flight was beyond her. Everyone conked out when the plane took off. Everyone but her, and the baby, and the baby’s mom.

She set her watch to the destination time, due to arrive at eight a.m. local time. Mr. 9A grunted and shifted in his seat. He slumped and his whiskery chin propped on Stephie’s shoulder. Her nose wrinkled. Close encounter of the worst kind. This guy should have stocked up on breath mints. Deodorant wouldn’t hurt either.

Excuse me. Would you mind keeping to your seat?

Stephie prodded his arm. The guy didn’t budge.

Some people have a lot of nerve, she muttered, and nudged him. He snorted. His mouth hung slack, so she poked harder until he was within the confines of his minuscule seat. His chin drooped on his chest. 9A moaned. Really loud.

Shh. People are trying to sleep, she whispered.

She was tempted to press a hand over his mouth but couldn’t force herself to touch him in such an intimate way. Another loud moan, then blessed silence.

Thank you for that, she muttered.

Stephie slumped, too. More like nosedived. She was in a big fat mess.

All her life she dreamed of Hawaii. Devoured countless re-runs of Hawaii Crimestoppers, a hit police television series set in the Islands. Watched every movie ever filmed in the Aloha State. Daydreamed about sipping colorful tropical drinks on Waikiki Beach. She was finally on her way to the Aloha State. She should have been ecstatic. Should, being the operative word.

Mentally, her list of pros and cons were calculated. On the plus side, she was finally heading to Honolulu. A five-star hotel. Luxurious honeymoon package. Two weeks in Waikiki. Glorious beaches, beautiful weather, swaying palm trees. Romantic. Dreamy. A fantasy come true.

She blew all her savings to surprise Robert with the best honeymoon ever. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. One little problem. No, make that one colossal problem. Robert wasn’t sitting beside her in Seat 9A. When he didn’t turn up at the gate, the airline sold his seat to this fat guy who made more noise than a symphony orchestra.

Honeymoon for one. It sounded like the title of a really bad romance novel. Too bad she landed the starring role. No groom. No husband. Nada. Zip. Robert jilted her.

Moisture welled and tears threatened to spill down Stephie’s cheeks. She fought the urge to burst into full-blown wails. What did she do to deserve the ultimate embarrassment? How could she ever face anyone again? For the rest of her life, she’d be the bride who’d been jilted at the altar.

The negative list far outweighed the positive. A tear dribbled down her cheek. 9A didn’t budge. Good. She didn’t want to answer the inevitable embarrassing questions. First time in the Islands? Vacation? Traveling alone?

Good thing you can sleep. I sure can’t, Stephie muttered.

9A didn’t reply. He didn’t move. Not so much as a twitch. After his previous concert of assorted sounds, he didn’t make a peep. She couldn’t even hear him breathing. Sound asleep. The lucky guy.

Stephie brooded as the flight attendants made preparations for landing. She clicked the seatbelt, tossed a plastic cup into a garbage bag, and leaned over to catch a glimpse of famed Diamond Head from the window. Just her luck. 9A blocked the view. Still asleep.

The plane landed, and Stephie grabbed her carry-on bag to join the mob anxious to start their vacation. There was no need to rush. How would she explain the absence of a husband at the hotel? It seemed downright peculiar for a honeymoon.

She was still trying to come up with believable explanations while waiting to head down the narrow aisle between seats. 9A didn’t budge. Stephie shrugged. He must have taken a sleeping pill. Snoozy wasn’t her problem. She didn’t know him. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see him again. Not even a hot young guy. 9A looked old enough to be her father. Maybe grandfather.

Not her business. She didn’t need to go looking for problems. Didn’t she have enough? Two weeks in Romance Central and flying solo. How bad was that?

***

Detective Kai Kealoha glanced over his shoulder as he headed into the airport terminal. Jono Okana lagged behind.

Are you coming?

Kai’s patience hit an all-time low. This had to be the world’s worst assignment. Baby-sitting. He all but blew a fuse when the chief ordered him to take Jono with him. Everywhere.

He’s newly promoted to detective and needs supervision. Protests did no good at all. Louis Loriana, the new chief of police, made it clear he was in no mood to argue. The new detective needed mentoring. No protests or complaints.

Jono made Kai feel ancient. His brain knew thirty-four wasn’t ancient but compared to Jono’s twenty-seven, he felt like Methuselah. It didn’t help that his mother was on his case, always nagging him to settle down. What are you waiting for? Get married. Have keiki.

He shouldn’t be living with his mom. Not at his age, but when his dad died, Mom begged him to move back. Temporarily. Temporary turned into five years. Five years of nagging. Every time Kai mentioned getting his own place, she would cry and pull the guilt card. Tutu, his grandma, added her two cents. More like a dollar’s worth. For fun, his sister Leilani joined the Kai bashing like a pileup on the H-1 freeway. All three harped on his single status.

Kai wasn’t against marriage; he just hadn’t met any woman he wanted to come home to for the rest of his life. Between his mom’s continual harping and Jono’s irritating habits, his system hit overload.

The guy observed him with the zeal of a microbiologist studying an exotic bacteria under a microscope. Jono stuck to him like Velcro and jotted copious notes in a tiny spiral notebook. Every darned move, including yesterday’s plate lunch special.

Kai sighed. What was wrong with the police? Since when did they recruit cops in kindergarten? He remembered Jono from school years ago. A little kid excited to be team mascot when Kai played fullback on the high school football team.

He turned and motioned to Jono to speed it up.

Come on, will ya?

Jono waved from across the street, waiting for a break in the traffic to cross from the parking lot into the terminal. A mob of tourists flooded out of the building. Drivers waved signs, and herded groups to hotel buses and cars. Women greeters in flashy Hawaiian print dresses draped the traditional lei over the excited arrivals. Tourists spelled big money in the Islands. Tourism translated into jobs for a lot of people.

Jono threaded his way through a crowd heading for the taxis and public buses on the traffic island between the parking building and the terminal entrance. Kai didn’t bother to wait. Jono could catch up with him. He wasted enough time on this fool’s errand. He did an about-face and strode into the terminal.

Chapter Two

Kai shoved past the endless line of weary travelers snaking through the TSA lines. A tsunami wave of rude remarks and sour faces from passengers dripped with hostility.

Get in line like the rest of us!

Kai flashed his badge and signaled for Jono to follow. They reached the area where passengers shoved their belongings into plastic containers for screening.

Coats, belts, and jackets off.

Phones in containers.

Liquids in plastic bags.

Laptops out.

Shoes off.

What else could be removed? If this kept up, people would go through screening half-naked. Kai mentally cursed the terrorists behind the ever-tightening security required to enter an airport. He shot a dirty look at the TSA agent.

Take a look, he growled, holding up his badge.

The agent shrugged. How do I know that isn’t bogus? You could probably buy it online for ten bucks. Shoes off. Phone in the container.

Kai sighed. He opened his mouth to argue but Jono unlaced his sneakers and plopped them into a tray along with his phone. Kai followed.

Into the booth. Hands over your head, barked another agent.

Kai shook his head. Travel had to be the most humiliating experience. No wonder everyone in line was cranky.

This was an incredible waste of time. He mentally cursed the boss again. Instead of working last night’s assault on Mrs. Kung, he had to nanny a junior detective, and he was shoeless, too. Alarms screamed when they zoomed in on his holstered weapon.

Half an hour of consultation with the TSA boss, phone calls to headquarters, and more than a few arguments wasted more time. Jono continued noting down every action.

Cut that out, Kai snapped.

Jono’s ever-present smile drooped.

Aw nuts. Guilt flooded Kai’s center. Jono might be twenty-seven years old, but to Kai he was the excited ten-year-old kid cheering on the bench with the football team. Black eyes and a morose expression morphed into the hero-worshipping little boy who rooted for the team and loved being carried around on Kai’s massive shoulders.

Sorry, Kai mumbled. This whole business is a pain in the neck. I need to get over to Queens Hospital and see Mr. and Mrs. Kung.

Jono nodded. I was real sorry when I heard. I used to stop by their store to buy crack seeds every day after school. Salty plum. She used to pinch my cheeks and always put a little extra in my bag.

Honey mango for me. Same thing. They were part of the neighborhood. Like they sprouted roots. I can’t remember when that little shop wasn’t there.

What kind of rotten person would punch her out? She’s old. And little.

A no good, low down kind. Probably a drug addict. High on crystal meth. The perp wore a ski mask but he was haole, a Caucasian, Kai explained.

Jono’s brow arched. How do you know if he wore a mask?

Kai’s lips pursed. I could see on the camera. His sleeves didn’t cover his wrists. The sound wasn’t great but the voice sounded like a New York accent.

Not much help. Must be loads of New York guys around the island, Jono commented.

Kai grunted. Jono was right. Instead of this dumb trip to the airport that anyone could handle, he should be reviewing surveillance tapes. Again. Maybe he missed something. Maybe Jono would spot something. They should be talking to people who might have seen something. Interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Kung.

The pair cleared the security area and headed down to the gate, past the duty-free shops selling luxury goods a cop could never afford and a heap of Hawaiiana aimed at tourists. Hawaiian handmade quilts, ukuleles tourists would never learn to play, gaudy Aloha shirts no local would be caught dead wearing.

Four flight attendants dressed in red and blue outfits shot them dirty looks as they crossed from the jet way into the aircraft.

About time, one mumbled. This was a long haul flight and a long wait.

Take it up with TSA, Kai responded. Detectives Kealoha and Okana.

Both men showed their badges.

So what have we got?

One of the flight attendants started down the narrow aisle between seats and stopped at Seat 9A. The others glanced at the detectives and followed them. A heavy-set man with thinning salt and pepper hair slumped in the chair. Stubble covered his cheeks and chin.

Kai leaned over and checked for a pulse. His nostrils twitched. The guy’s bladder must have let loose a stream of urine. Kai could imagine the cleaners’ reactions to the disgusting mess.

I’m not a medical examiner but this guy’s been dead for a while, he said.

Poor guy. Maybe he was coming on his dream vacation and never made it, Jono murmured.

Kai glanced his way. Jono needed to avoid getting emotional, but he was most likely right. Another middle-aged tourist who dreamed of the Hawaiian Islands replete with hula girls and mai-tais. The Islands exploded with guests who dreamed of romance and excitement in Hawaii. Thirty thousand arrivals every day in peak season and not much less the rest of the year.

Jono, get the names and statements. I’ll phone for the medical examiner. Ladies, sorry but you can’t leave until Mr—

Poole. Robert Poole, Jono added. Like a swimming pool only with an e on the end.

Kai shot him a look. Jono must be sharper than he realized to know the victim’s name, which Kai missed.

Who sat next to him?

One of the attendants consulted the passenger manifest list. Stephanie Oliver in 9B. Her contact info for the Islands is here.

Kai snatched the paper. All flights collected passenger information. Arriving passengers filled out forms that included the purpose of the trip, intended length of stay, and contact details. The Hawaii Tourist Board diligently analyzed all the information. For what purpose, Kai didn’t bother to consider.

Stephanie Oliver. Booked into the most exclusive hotel in Waikiki. Two-week visit. Maybe Ms. Oliver noticed something. Without the medical examiner's report, nothing could be assumed.

You ladies come to the gate with me. You must be distressed and tired but I need you to think about what happened. Who discovered Mr. Poole was dead? What did he eat and drink? Anything that strikes you as odd in hindsight might be helpful.

Jono continued soothing the flight attendants.

I never saw a dead person before, said one of the two stewardesses, face chalk white.

We thought about trying CPR, but it seemed too late.

Jono hushed them. Nobody is blaming any of you. Let’s just gather everything into a proper sequence.

His calm, quiet manner settled the overwrought crew. One arm extended to pat one of the younger attendant’s shoulder who seemed on the verge of tears.

You must have been very brave, ma’am.

Kai’s eyes widened. Brave? What courage did it take to touch a dead body?

A tear trickled down the attendant’s cheek while mascara smudged beneath her hazel eyes. She swept back loose strands of curly blond hair.

Darcie. My name is Darcie. I hate being called ma’am, she whispered.

The other attendants all exchanged glances. One smirked.

You folks try to stay calm. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of a crime. Probably the guy had a heart attack, Jono explained. Try to think of any impressions of him. Was he excited? Did he drink to excess? Did he say anything unusual? Who realized he was dead?

Kai considered Jono’s questions. All standard. He wondered about the question of unusual remarks. Did Jono think Poole committed suicide? On a plane? Kind of bizarre. No, suicide seemed unlikely. Jono aimed for diligence, covering all the bases, but this had all the hallmarks of a heart attack. Simple and easy to explain, even if upsetting for the flight crew.

The group moved off into the jet way. Darcie sniffed and managed a tiny smile at Jono. She was rewarded with a quick grin.

Kai stared at their backs. They never glanced at him, happy to obey Jono, who charmed them with that line about being brave. His good looks didn’t hurt either. The jet black hair and eyes and high cheekbones. A typical Island combination of Chinese, Hawaiian, and a smattering of Japanese that combined into the best assortment of gene pools. A true melting pot.

Kai’s own background leaned more toward Hawaiian. Big, muscular Pacific people, but he could claim Chinese, Japanese and Portuguese lineage, too. Maybe Jono was hoping to hook up with Darcie. She looked to be around Jono’s age. Another baby.

Kai sighed and settled into a seat across the aisle to await the medical examiner. Once Jono finished questioning the crew, he could handle