Murder in Honolulu: A Skye Delaney Mystery (30 page)

Neil Schmidt had been Carter's attorney
since before Carter and I were married. They had attended law
school together and remained friends and friendly competitors, in
spite of veering off into different branches of law and social
circles. Neil had a successful law practice and an office on
Merchant Street in the high rent district downtown. At forty-one,
he was no taller than five-five and slightly built with short dark
blonde hair parted to the side.

"Aloha, Skye!" he said in a deep voice,
unbuttoning the jacket of his designer suit.

"Hi, Neil," I said, and shook his hand.

A look of sadness washed over his face. "I
wish we were meeting again under better circumstances—"

"So do I," I said, then felt obliged to add:
"Carter's life was not in vain."

Neil nodded. "I agree," he said solemnly.
"Carter knew how to live life as it should be. More than anyone I
knew, he was relentless in going after what and who he wanted—and
usually succeeded..."

Whatever Neil may have meant, his words were
not exactly endearing to me or likely to my successor as Mrs.
Carter Delaney. Darlene was standing near a wooden conference table
at one end of the long office. She pressed her lips together
tightly and gave me an impatient look.

I nodded in polite acknowledgement.

As far as I knew, outside of Ivy, Carter had
no other living relatives. An only child, his parents had died in a
car accident when he was thirteen, forcing him to be shuttled
between foster homes until he reached adulthood. No doubt this
would work in Darlene's favor and she would presumably get all of
whatever Carter left behind, as would his daughter.

We sat in cream-colored leather chairs on
opposite sides of the table as Neil took a chair at the head. His
briefcase was open on the table beside a pitcher of water and some
drinking glasses.

"Can we please get on with this," Darlene
whined nervously.

Neil raised a brow at her, then me. "Yes, of
course..." He removed some papers from his briefcase and said: "As
the executor of Carter's estate and as his attorney, I've been
appointed to read his last will and testament and see to it that it
is carried out according to his wishes. None of us expected it
would be this soon..." He paused, glancing at the papers and then
back to each of us. "There's no easy way to put this, so I'll just
get right to it," Neil said. "Carter's business was in big trouble
when he died. As you know, the economy has been in the doldrums of
late and is still struggling to regain its footing. Internet-based
companies have been hit especially hard where it concerns
international trade. Carter's liabilities far exceeded his assets.
In other words, Carter was a step or two away from filing for
bankruptcy..."

Darlene batted her lashes in disbelief.
"You're telling me that
all
of the money he invested in the
company is gone?"

"Just about," Neil said sadly. "I'm sure you
know that Carter had a serious gambling problem." He carried on
before she could respond. "Unfortunately, he often dipped into his
business profits and assets to cover his debts. But the creditors
are still there waiting to be paid what Carter owed them—"

None of this came as a surprise to me. After
all, it was obvious that Carter was in real trouble when the
gambling came to light and Darlene was forced to come up with the
funds to try to bail him out of a difficult and dangerous
situation. The businessman and the gambling addict were one and the
same—meaning they either rose or fell together. Unfortunately,
Carter got in over his head in both arenas and destroyed much of
what he had in the process.

From the look on Darlene's face, not even a
payoff of three million dollars in insurance money appeared to be
satisfactory as a parting gift from Carter.

But Neil wasn't through with his
surprises.

"The house will have to be sold to cover
Carter's outstanding debts," he said bleakly.

Darlene stared at him wide-eyed.
"What—?"

"I'm sorry, but there is no other choice
other than to try to protect what's left for you and your
daughter." He looked at me. "There's still something in this for
you, Skye."

I wasn't holding my breath at this point,
wondering what was left. I did find it somewhat amusing that
Darlene was taking this so hard, as if she were somehow entitled to
far more than she ever brought to the marriage—which it seemed like
she was getting.

"Fortunately, between selling off the assets
of Carter's business and the house itself, it should wipe the slate
clean," Neil said. "I don't think you'll end up in the poor house,
Darlene, especially with the generous insurance policy Carter made
sure he had in the event of his death."

Darlene sneered at me, but seemed to now be
counting her blessings. She asked Neil: "So do I need to move out
of my house now?"

He smiled faintly. "In time, yes, but not
overnight or anything." After winking at me, he turned to the
papers before him and said: "Now, back to the will... The bulk of
Carter's estate, minus that used to pay off creditors—including
outstanding stocks and bonds, an old coin collection, paintings,
and an account he set up to continually subsidize his daughter's
trust fund—goes to Ivy. He also updated his life insurance, making
his daughter the beneficiary of two-thirds of the amount—"

Darlene reacted to this, clearly not
expecting that last statement. I, for one, was happy that Carter
had at least put Ivy ahead of himself in securing her future—even
at the expense of his wife, who may have had other ideas about
spending his money.

Neil turned to Darlene and continued. "These
assets, including the insurance payout, are to be converted into
cash as soon as possible, then added to Ivy's trust fund, which I
will administer until she reaches the age of twenty-five. A second
account will be set up in Ivy's name that will be available to her
when she turns eighteen."

He stopped and took a drink of water. "As
Ivy's mother and legal guardian, Darlene, you'll have access to any
funds deemed necessary to maintain a reasonable standard of living
for her. Money will also be available for any emergencies that
might arise regarding Ivy—"

Darlene narrowed her eyes at him. "So I get
nothing but one-third of the insurance money?"

Neil leaned back in his chair. "Actually,
you get all the furniture, jewelry, and other household items not
already stated, as well as any stocks, mutual funds, and bank
accounts that were in your name," he answered coolly. "And, with
all due respect, Darlene, your portion of Carter's insurance money
amounts to a million dollars. That's not a bad piece of change,
considering—"

Darlene grunted with tight lips. I waited
more than patiently to see what Carter had seen fit to will to me
in his unpredictable way.

"There is one other thing Carter left behind
for you, Darlene," Neil said, removing more papers from his
briefcase. Darlene's eyes lit up with a ray of hope. "He was aware
you had a drug problem..."

I watched Darlene's face suddenly
darken.

To me, this was an indication that Carter
probably also knew about Kalolo Nawahi. Could Carter have also
known about Edwin Axelrod even before he had hired me? While this
didn't make sense, not much did where it concerned my ex-husband
and the inner workings of his mind.

Neil went on: "To that end, Carter was able
to set aside funds to be used at a drug treatment facility of your
choice, for you to receive as much care as you are willing to get
for up to ten years following his death—"

Darlene avoided my eyes as she digested what
Carter had quite literally delivered to her from the grave. Clearly
he'd given this much thought, and was most concerned about
protecting his daughter's best interest, even if it meant his wife
just might have to get used to a less extravagant lifestyle. At the
same time, I felt that Carter had at least cared for this woman
more than she'd ever believed. In sponsoring drug treatment for her
in death, he was giving Darlene a way to help herself and their
daughter that he apparently couldn't do in life.

"Carter also instructed me that if there was
anything left, he wanted to set up a foundation to help fight
substance abuse and gambling addiction..." Neil caught the
surprised look on my face and said: "He knew he had a gambling
problem, but couldn't lick it. Guess this was his way of trying to
help others caught in the same vicious trap."

Carter continued to surprise me in a
positive way. It was as if he was trying to make amends after the
fact for a life in which he'd made some regrettable, and often
baffling, errors in judgment.

"Now for you, Skye..." Neil said, gazing at
me with a smile.

I poured myself a glass of water and tasted
it as the suspense mounted regarding the fate or fortune Carter had
in store for me.

Neil removed something wrapped in brown
paper from under the table. The paper was removed, revealing a 12 x
18 inch custom-framed oil painting. It was a picture of Carter and
me on our wedding day.

"He had this made for you from an old
wedding photo he kept in his wallet," Neil said, handing the
painting to me. "Carter wanted you to have something to remember
him by on what he considered to be one of the most special days of
his life."

A touch of nostalgia overcame me as I
remembered the moment in time that truly seemed like someone else's
moment. We both looked so young, happy, and in love. It was
supposed to be the first day of the rest of our lives. But it
didn't quite work according to plan.

"Thanks, Neil," I said, trying not to get
too emotional. "It's a nice way to remember Carter—"

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "You two did
make a pretty nice couple, didn't you?"

Darlene pouted. "Why the hell did he ever
bother to leave you in the first place when he obviously couldn't
get you off his mind...right up to the very end?"

I was barely able to refrain myself after
her outburst.
Talk about ungrateful
, I mused.
I get a
painting with sentimental value, and she walks away from this a
millionaire
. I was getting damn tired of being the bad guy in
this twisted three-way scenario of sex, lies, infidelity, drugs,
and gambling. It seemed like a good time for me to vent some
unresolved feelings I had for Darlene to her face.

"If you take a good look at yourself," I
barked, "you just might reach the conclusion that
you
had
something to do with me giving Carter his walking papers and, in
effect, him giving you yours—" It wasn't a knockout punch, but I
did deliver her a well deserved stinging jab or two.

And felt much better for it.

Ridge was waiting for me in the car after
the show had ended. "What the hell's that?" he asked of the
painting, which I placed across the back seat, face down.

Something told me that showing it to him
right now wasn't a smart move. It was likely headed to my attic for
cold storage and invisibility. Right now I didn't need to be
reminded of days gone by, especially the recent ones.

I flashed Ridge a little smile and said:
"Let's just say that as far as bequeathed items go, it's not
something that will allow either of us to retire any time
soon—"

"Too bad," he said, frowning. "I had visions
of your coming out of this with a fortune, asking for my hand in
marriage, and both of us retiring to a house on the beach in
Maui."

I laughed and told him: "Keep dreaming. You
never know what might be waiting around the corner—"

Retiring with riches did sound nice, I
thought. But funding that retirement through Carter's last will and
testament and untimely demise did not set well with me. I doubted
it would have for Ridge either.

Marriage, though, was a different
proposition altogether, I thought. And, frankly, it scared the hell
out of me. My last marriage had left me with a bad impression of
the institution.

When and if the urge came around again,
Ridge seemed like the perfect choice to walk down the aisle with,
assuming he really saw me as marriage material.

But that was something to consider for
another day, I thought.

CHAPTER
FIFTY

Even though Carter's murder had been solved,
I still had some lingering questions that needed answered. And Liam
Pratt seemed like the one person who might be able to help me fill
in the blanks. He knew about the relationship between Edwin Axelrod
and Kazuo Pelekai and may have discovered Axelrod's affair with
Darlene. I wondered what else he had uncovered that could possibly
connect Carter's death to the others and Ramirez's suicide to the
alleged suicide of Axelrod.

I dropped by the offices of the Honolulu
Press, where Liam worked, hoping to catch him there. I walked up to
the front desk in the lobby.

"How can I help you?" a twenty-something
Polynesian receptionist asked.

"I'm looking for Liam Pratt," I told her.
"Can you tell me where his office is?"

"Yes, I can tell you, but you won't find him
there," she said. "Liam's on assignment. You just missed him."

Oh, hell
, I thought.
When I
finally do want to see him, he makes himself scarce.

"Can you tell me where he is?" I asked.
"It's important..."

She studied me the way a jealous woman
might, almost making me wonder if Liam was bedding the pretty young
woman.

"My name's Skye Delaney," I said, deciding
to put my cards at least partially on the table. "I'm a private
investigator. Liam and I have been working together on a case..." I
considered this to be true in a roundabout way, even if he didn't
know it yet.

She gave me a thoughtful look. "Oh yeah, I
read about you and all the crazy stuff that's been going on at your
house."