Read Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow Online

Authors: Cynthia Baxter

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Detectives, #Women Sleuths, #Murder, #Private Investigators, #Women Veterinarians, #Popper; Jessica (Fictitious Character), #Wine and Wine Making

Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow (44 page)

BOOK: Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow
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“Governor Wickham, Marnie Burton,
Maui
Dispatch
. Do you feel that the arrival of a big bio-tech firm on an island that most people consider paradise is a major step in the wrong direction?”

I noticed that the governor’s smile faltered for the first time since I’d entered the room. But only for a moment. He turned away, suddenly absorbed in waving to the people in back.

As he and his entourage strode by, the aide on his left, the one with the red hair, passed right in front of the reporter who’d asked the troublesome question. As he did, I noticed a sudden movement. Before I had a chance to figure out what was happening, I saw the reporter lose her balance. The tape recorder flew out of her hand, and she cried out as she fell backward toward a huge potted plant.

“Oh, no!” I cried as I watched the back of her head hit the sharp edge of the metal pot. The necklace she was wearing broke from the impact, sending dozens of beads flying into the air like fireworks.

Instinctively I rushed over to help. “Are you all right?” I demanded.

She let out a moan. “Ooh! My head!” As she started to stand, she muttered, “That jerk!”

“Don’t move,” I instructed. “I’ll get security.”

“Jeez, no! Don’t do that!”

“Then maybe I can help. Here, let me take a look.” Gently I moved the young woman’s hand away from her head. She flinched as I touched a large bruise that was quickly swelling to the size of a small snowball.

“You’ve got yourself quite a bump,” I informed her.

I glanced around, expecting someone else to come forward to help. No one did. In fact, the rest of the crowd was already streaming toward the double doors and out of the ballroom.

“You’ve got to get some ice on that.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. Really. I should follow him—” As she tried to stand up, she swayed uncertainly.

“I don’t think so,” I replied, grabbing her under the arms. “You might have a concussion. I’ll find someone to take you to the hospital.”

“No way! I’ll get stuck in the emergency room for hours, and I’ve got to write my article. It’s not every day I get a chance to do a big story like this.”

“In that case, why don’t you come up to my room so we can put some ice on that bump? At least you can lie down for a few minutes.”

“That’s really nice of you,” Marnie replied. “I guess I probably should. But just for, like, five minutes.”

As we crossed the lobby, I spotted Nick in the gift shop. After setting Marnie down on a bamboo couch, I scurried over. Not only did he have three Hawaiian shirts draped across his arm, their tags fluttering like butterflies, but he’d moved on to the display of macadamia nuts.

“Cinnamon macadamia nuts,” he greeted me. “Does that sound like something we could get addicted to?”

“Definitely,” I replied. “But right now I’ve got a bit of a disaster to deal with. A reporter I just met—her name is Marnie Burton—tripped and got bonked on the head. I’m going to bring her up to our room and get her some ice.”

“Whoa. Anything I can do?”

“Thanks, but I can handle it.”

“In that case, I’ll be up soon.”

Ten minutes later, Marnie Burton was stretched across the king-sized bed in my hotel room with her shoes off and a plastic bag of ice resting on her forehead. I was about to suggest the hospital one more time when she mumbled, “I’ve got to get out of here. Mr. C is counting on me.”

“‘Mr. C?’”

“Mr. Cantwell, my editor. He’s counting on me to get this story in by tonight. Especially since Tim—he’s the photographer—was covering another story this afternoon so he couldn’t be here.” Sounding apologetic, she added, “The
Maui
Dispatch
is kind of a small newspaper. Number two to the
Maui News
.”

“Sounds like a great place to learn the business, though,” I offered encouragingly, even though I basically had no idea what I was talking about.

But from the grateful look on Marnie’s face, I realized that, somehow, I’d gotten it right. “That’s exactly what I thought!” Peering out at me from under the ice pack, she said, “You’re being so kind. Who are you, anyway, my guardian angel?”

“Sorry. Guess I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Jessica Popper. I’m here for the veterinary conference.”

“The AVMA, right? I noticed the sign in the lobby. I’m Marnie Burton from the
Maui
Dispatch
—” She stopped herself. “Sorry. Habit. That’s what happens when you’re working your butt off, trying to live out your lifelong dream of becoming a reporter. Although at the moment, I’m wondering if I should have followed my mother’s advice and stayed in Ellensburg, Washington, and become a nursery school teacher instead. But when I found the job on Monster-dot-com, I figured what the heck.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years.”

“And how do your parents back in Ellensburg feel about that?”

She made a face. “Not exactly supportive. In fact, they haven’t talked to me since I left. Not even a birthday card.”

“You must feel awful about that.”

She shrugged. “I’m still hoping they come around, once they find out what a success I’ve become.” Grinning, she added, “That is, once I actually manage to
become
a success. In the meantime, at least I’ve got my boyfriend, Ace, to keep me from getting too lonely.”


Ace
? Are you serious?” I hadn’t meant to sound stuffy, but somehow the words just popped out sounding that way.

Fortunately, she laughed. “I get the same reaction from everybody. It’s not as if he’s some card shark or something. Actually, he has his own business. Body work.”

An expression of alarm suddenly crossed her face. “What time is it?”

I glanced at my watch. “Almost six.”

“Oh, no! Ace is gonna kill me!” Quickly she added, “Not that he’s not absolutely crazy about me, but he’s got a bit of a temper. I’m supposed to meet him later, after I do this other really important thing...He said he has something really important to talk to me about tonight.” With an impish grin, she said, “I think I can guess what it might be.”

If this boyfriend of yours pops the question, I thought, I hope you handle it a lot better than I did.

She stood up, then grimaced, as if she’d been hit with an unexpected jolt of pain. She reached up and gingerly touched the top of her head. “Ugh, my head feels like a volcano that’s about to erupt.”

“Can I get you anything?” I asked anxiously.

“I’ve got some Advil in my bag—if you don’t mind going through all my stuff. It’s in a little cosmetics bag with flowers on it.”

I looked at her black canvas bag and grimaced. It was so big that finding anything in there was guaranteed to be a challenge. But I rummaged through it until I found the small flowered bag, hidden beneath her tape recorder, cell phone, pens, make-up, notebooks, manila file folders, Band-aids, and chewing gum wrappers.

“Thanks.” Dutifully she downed the two Advil I retrieved for her, gulping down the entire glass of water. “Boy, I can’t believe that idiot John Irwin actually decked me. Jeez, what a creep! You’d think a governor’s aide would be a little more civilized!”

“I’m sure it was an accident,” I assured her.

Marnie’s blue eyes widened. “I’m not.”

I tried to hide my confusion. “Surely you don’t think someone from the governor’s office would do something like that on purpose!”

“Are you kidding? One of the first lessons I learned in the newspaper business is that things are rarely what they seem,” she insisted. “Especially on Hawaii.”

As if she’d suddenly remembered something, she raised her hand to her throat. “Oh, great.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My favorite necklace. It’s gone!”

“I saw it break when you fell. Beads went flying everywhere.”

“They weren’t beads. The necklace was made of little shells, dyed these really cool colors. A native woman who lives out in the middle of nowhere makes them. They sell them in Lahaina, at one of the jewelry shops that specializes in the work of local artists. That necklace was one of the first things I bought myself when I got here. Darn!”

“I noticed you wearing it,” I commented, sharing her regret. “It was really pretty.”

“It matched these earrings—see?” She pointed at the cluster of tiny shells, dyed pastel colors, bobbing below her earlobes. “Oh, well. Maybe I can get her to make me another one. Whenever I get the money, that is.”

She began rummaging through her bag, pulling out one thing after another before finally retrieving her tape recorder, not much larger than the palm of her hand. “I hope this stupid thing fared better. I’ve been having enough trouble with it lately without dropping it on the ground. I finally figured out that I have to check it each time—”

The sound of her own voice interrupted her. “...Feel that the arrival of a big bio-tech firm on an island that most people consider paradise is a major step in the wrong direction?”

Clicking it off and sticking it back in her bag, she muttered, “I got the question on tape. Too bad I didn’t get an answer.

“Anyhow,” she said, smoothing her skirt and running her fingers through her short, spiky hair, “I’ve got to get the heck out of here.”

I had to admit, she looked a lot better than she had twenty minutes earlier when she’d first stretched out on the bed with a guava-sized lump on her head.

“I owe you,” Marnie said. “If there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here...”

“I think I’m set.”

“Maybe I could take you on a tour,” she offered. “You know, give you an insider’s look at Maui that most tourists don’t get to see.”

“That sounds great,” I told her sincerely. “Let me talk to my boyfriend, Nick. Between the conference and what’s supposed to be a romantic vacation for the two of us, we’ve got a lot of activities to squeeze in over the next few days. But it would be fun if we could work something out.”

“Here’s my number,” she said, reaching into her purse.

She handed me a business card. “Marnie Burton, Reporter,
Maui Dispatch
,” it read, followed by the newspaper’s Kaohu Street address, phone number, and, in the lower left corner, her cell phone number. I stuck the card in my pocket, then gave her one of mine.

“Thanks.” As she dropped it into her giant tote bag, she caught sight of her watch and cried, “Now I’ve
really
got to get out of here. I just hope the person I’m supposed to meet at six-thirty hasn’t given up on me.” She screwed up her face. “These secret sources can be so temperamental.”

The room seemed strangely silent after she left. I realized that Marnie Burton was one of those people who was always surrounded by a whirlwind of energy. Just talking to her was exhausting.

Still, the arrival of Nick five minutes later, his eyes glowing in a way that can only come from a shopping victory, immediately re-energized me. That, and the colors in his flashy aloha shirt.

“Is this shirt cool or what?” he asked, holding out his arms to model it for me.

“Way cool. The other law students will love it.”

Wearing a satisfied smile, he flopped down on the bed, his arms folded beneath his head. “Right now, law school feels very far away. I’m much more interested in the
wahine
standing in front of me. That would be you.”


Wahine
, huh?” I countered. “Have I just been insulted?”

“It’s the Hawaiian word for woman.”

“In that case, I’m guilty as charged.”

“Come here. You’re too far away.”

As I sat down on the bed next to him, he rolled away to make room. And promptly let out a yelp.

“Ouch! Hey, what’s this?” Nick asked. From underneath his khaki-covered butt, he pulled out a brown mailing envelope. The initials “MB” were handwritten in pencil on the front.

“Oh, no. That must be Marnie’s,” I said. “She left it here by accident. It probably fell out of her giant tote bag, either while she was going through it or when I was scrounging around for Advil.” As I took the envelope from him, I noticed it wasn’t sealed. It felt as if there was an audio cassette tape inside, but I didn’t bother to check. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t any of my business. “It might be important. I’d better call her and tell her she left it here.”

“How’s her head? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Just a little forgetful, that’s all. But I have a feeling that has nothing to do with what happened today.”

I retrieved her business card from my pocket and dialed her cell phone number on my cell phone. According to my calculations, she’d barely had time to leave the hotel. So I was surprised that I got her voice mail.

“Hey, Marnie, it’s Jessie Popper,” I recorded after the beep. “You left a brown envelope in my room. When you get this message, call me at the Royal Banyan Hotel or on my cell phone. The number’s on the card I gave you. I can get it back to you whenever we get together—or if you need it sooner, just stop by the room and knock. In case you forgot, the number is six-twenty-six. Catch you later!”

After I ended the call, I looked around the room, trying to find a safe place to put it. The room was already pretty chaotic, between our clothes, guide-books, snorkeling equipment, and the two bags of cinnamon macadamia nuts Nick had bought. I finally went into the bathroom and stashed it in the vanity, next to the extra rolls of toilet paper.

“Now where were we?” I murmured. I draped myself across the bed and nestled beside Nick. I had to admit that he looked pretty darned terrific in his Hawaiian shirt.

As far as I was concerned, it was time to get this romantic getaway underway.

By the next morning, I had made major inroads into reaching the highest possible level of aloha spirit. As I sat on the lanai in a pair of shorts and a tank top, scarfing down the coconut syrupslathered macadamia nut waffles Nick and I had ordered from room service, concepts like worry and tension and hurrying seemed far away. Like polar fleece, hot chocolate, and ice scrapers, they simply didn’t belong here.

The setting also happened to be wonderfully romantic. There we were, just the two of us, sitting on a balcony overlooking a lush tropical garden. The golden sun was warm, and the balmy air was softened by a refreshing sea breeze. Birds chirped sweetly and we spotted the occasional gecko basking in the sun or darting up the side of a palm tree. If this wasn’t a genuine Adam and Eve moment, I didn’t know what was.

BOOK: Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow
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