Carol Clark: Burned

Regan felt a pang in her heart. “I can’t believe I’m missing all that,” she said wistfully.

“I can’t believe you are, either.”

Regan pictured Jack’s spacious homey apartment that was so Jack with its handsome leather couches and beautiful Persian rugs. He had told Regan he wanted to make his place more than just a bachelor pad because he never knew when he’d meet the right girl. “I was afraid it might never happen,” he admitted. “But with you this is finally the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Maybe there will be another snowstorm next weekend,” Regan joked. “I’ll just be sure to arrive ahead of it.”

“Regan, have a good time with Kit. There will be other snowstorms, I promise. And believe me, a lot of people in this city would give anything to trade places with you right now. Not everyone thinks this is fun.”

By now Regan was at the baggage claim. People were in shorts and sleeveless shirts. It was late afternoon, and there was a laid-back, peaceful feeling in the air.

“I’ll be fine,” Regan said. “Kit met some people out here who we’ll hook up with. There’s even a guy she likes.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh is right. But this one sounds promising. He worked on Wall Street and retired to Hawaii at age thirty-five.”

“Maybe I should run a check on him,” Jack suggested. He laughed, but there was a note of seriousness in his voice. “He sounds too good to be true.” Jack was fond of Kit and felt protective of her. A couple of the guys Kit had gotten involved with since Jack had been on the scene had been real lulus. He wanted to make sure whoever she dated was on the level.

“It won’t be long before I learn his name and hear every detail of his life that Kit knows already. I’ll fill you in. If you find something out about him that’s not so great, she’ll want to be told. She learned her lesson from that last loser she went out with.”

“She sure did,” Jack agreed.

They were referring to a guy Kit had several dates with who failed to mention that he was getting married and moving to Hong Kong.

“Hey, Regan,” Jack continued. “I have a buddy out there in the Honolulu police force. I’ll give him a call and let him know you’re there. Maybe he’ll have some suggestions about what to do or where to go.”

“That’s great. What’s his name?” Regan asked as she pulled her suitcase off the carousel. She was always amazed at how connected Jack was. He knew people everywhere. And everyone respected him.

“Mike Darnell. I got to know him when some of the guys and I used to go there on vacation.”

“I’m about to grab a cab to the hotel,” Regan said as she wheeled her luggage outside.

“Don’t have too good of a time.”

“How could I? You’re not here.”

“I love you, Regan.”

“I love you, too, Jack.”

“Be careful, Regan.”

“I will.”

The cabdriver tossed Regan’s suitcase into the trunk. Regan got in the back, and they sped off for the Waikiki Waters. So much for being careful, Regan thought as the taxi driver dodged in and out of traffic on the congested highway. Regan found it odd that the road was called Interstate H1. Where were the other states?

Six thousand miles away Jack hung up and looked around his apartment. “This place is so lonesome without her,” he said aloud. But he cheered himself with the thought that she’d be there with him in one week. So what was that nagging feeling that came over him? He tried to shrug it off. He was a worrier when it came to Regan. And now he had a particularly good reason. Whenever she was with Kit, something odd always happened.

Jack stood and walked over to the window. The snow was piling up quickly. He walked across the room to his desk, got out his address book, and dialed his friend in the Honolulu Police Department. But the conversation only made him feel worse. Regan hadn’t told him anything about the drowning of a hotel employee at the Waikiki Waters. There was no way Kit wouldn’t have mentioned it to her. Regan knows me too well, he thought.

“Mike, would you do me a favor and give Regan a call?”

“Of course, Jack. I’ve got to run into a meeting. I’ll talk to you later.”

Standing by his window, Jack watched the snow coming down on the darkened street. I’ll feel so much better when she’s Mrs. Reilly, he thought. He turned, went into his room, and lay on the bed.

Back in Waikiki, people couldn’t stop talking about the death of Dorinda Dawes.

K it stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her medium-sized frame. It was five-thirty, and she’d just come up from a late afternoon swim in one of the many pools at the Waikiki Waters Playground and Resort. After the morning’s excitement a lot of guests at the hotel, including Kit, had the jitters about taking a dip in the ocean. The pool had been overflowing with swimmers.

Regan should be here soon, Kit thought happily. It was a miracle that she’d been able to get a reservation. She’d gotten one of the last seats on an afternoon flight from Los Angeles. Hundreds of Californians had decided to head for Hawaii when they couldn’t travel east.

There had been a lot of buzz at the Waikiki Waters about Dorinda Dawes. It seemed she had caused quite a stir in the three months that she’d worked at the hotel. The Christmas newsletter was more gossipy than most people liked, and she had run around taking pictures of tourists who didn’t necessarily want to be in the paper. “You loved her or hated her,” Kit heard more than once in the last few hours.

Kit bent over and towel-dried her shoulder-length blond hair. Straightening up, she ran a comb through it and then flicked on the little television set next to the sink. I’d love to have a TV in my bathroom at home, she thought as she applied a dab of styling cream to her golden locks.

The local news came on, and a female reporter was standing on the beach outside Kit’s hotel room.

“The body of forty-eight-year-old Dorinda Dawes, a recently hired employee here at the Waikiki Waters, washed ashore this morning. The police believe it was an accidental drowning. She was seen leaving a party here at the hotel last night at about eleven o’clock. Dawes was alone, and employees say she liked to take the beach path back to her apartment building, which was almost a mile away, but she often stopped to spend some quiet time out on the jetty. Police suspect that she slipped and fell into the water. The currents here can be very strong, and there was a strong undertow last night.

“What is puzzling detectives is that she was wearing a lei around her neck made of old shells that are more valuable than pearls. Sources say it is a historic lei that was stolen from the Seashell Museum more than thirty years ago and is a match to the lei that belonged to Princess Kaiulani, a member of the Hawaiian royal family who died tragically in 1899 when she was only twenty-three. She was caught in a rainstorm while horseback riding on the Big Island and contracted a cold which lingered until her death. Princess Kaiulani’s lei will be auctioned off at the ‘Be a Princess’ Ball here at the hotel on Saturday night. The lei around Dorinda’s neck belonged to Princess Kaiulani’s aunt, Queen Liliuokalani, who was queen for only two years when she was forced to abdicate and the monarchy was dissolved. No one at the hotel recalls ever seeing Dorinda wear this royal lei, and everyone we’ve spoken with says she was not wearing it at the hotel last night. Descendants of the royal family donated both leis to the Seashell Museum when it opened. Both leis were stolen in the robbery, but the princess’s lei was quickly recovered. So the question is, how did Dorinda Dawes, who has lived in Hawaii only since October, get hold of the queen’s lei that has been missing all these years?”