Carol Clark - Burned

Then she started to dream. She dreamed they were at Regan and Jack’s wedding and a band was playing, but they were very loud and out of tune. The music sounded screechy and discordant. Nora kept telling them to stop, but they wouldn’t listen. She was so thankful when she woke and realized it was just a bad dream. The hissing of the wind had incorporated itself into her unconscious as she slept.

What’s wrong with me? she wondered. Well, for one thing, Regan hadn’t called her when she arrived in Hawaii. She’s a grown-up, Nora reminded herself, and doesn’t have to call home all the time. But she usually checked in when she was traveling. Nora felt jittery, and the fact that the branch snapped off Regan’s favorite tree made her a little sad. Once again Nora slipped out of bed, grabbed her robe, and stuffed her feet into a pair of slippers. Quietly she opened the bedroom door and padded down the hallway.

Downstairs she turned on the kettle and picked up the phone. It’s not that late in Hawaii, she thought. I’ll give Regan a quick call on her cell phone.

It was still six of them crowded around the table at Duke’s. When Mike Darnell arrived, Jasmine floated off to talk to a group at the bar. Mike had just ordered a beer when Regan’s cell phone rang again.

“Mom,” she said with alarm when she heard her mother’s voice. “What are you doing up at this hour? Is everything all right?” Regan covered her free ear with her hand so she could hear over the noise of the crowd.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nora replied. “And I just wanted to make sure you got there okay. With the weather we’re having, it’s hard to imagine that it’s nice anywhere in the world.”

“We’re sitting outside a restaurant looking out at the ocean and the palm trees. It’s a beautiful night,” Regan assured her. “A friend of Jack’s just joined us. He’s a detective in the Honolulu Police Department.”

Somehow that made Nora feel better. Why do I worry so much? she wondered. The kettle started to whistle, a loud shriek that Luke said was designed to wake the dead.

“Are you making tea?” Regan asked.

“Decaf.”

“I can’t believe that kettle can be heard so clearly six thousand miles away.”

“Dad would say you don’t even need a phone for that.”

Regan laughed. “Well, we’re fine. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

“It won’t matter. I’m certainly not going anywhere.”

“Don’t let Dad shovel the driveway.”

“I won’t. Greg Driscoll was here today three times with his plow, and he’ll be back in the morning. He probably shouldn’t bother. The snow’s just going to keep piling up.” Nora poured the tea, turned away from the stove, and gasped. “Luke!”

“Dad’s up?”

“When I left the bed, he was dead to the world.”

“You know he can always tell when you’re gone from the bed for more than five minutes.”

“What are you doing up?” Luke whispered to Nora as he rubbed his eyes.

“A loud noise woke me up, and then a branch snapped off the big tree in the back,” Nora explained as Regan listened at the other end.

“The big tree?” Luke and Regan asked at the same time.

“The big tree,” Nora confirmed.

“My favorite tree!” Regan noted. “Mom, remember you wrote the story about the tree that hit a house and then the family ran into a string of bad luck?”

“I forgot about that story. It was so long ago. Thanks a lot for reminding me.”

“Well, don’t worry. The tree didn’t hit the house. I’ve got to go. This place is so noisy, it’s hard to hear.”

“Give a call over the weekend.”

“Okay.”

Regan hung up and reached for her wineglass. “Sorry, Mike,” she apologized to the tall and attractive man with brown hair and dark skin who was sitting next to her.

“That was your mom?” Mike asked.

“Yes, they’re having quite a storm back east.”

“That’s what Jack told me. By the way, he invited me to your wedding. You’d better be careful. I just might show up.”

Regan smiled. “We’d love it.”

“I should tell you that when Jack called me, I happened to mention there was a drowning at your hotel today.”

Regan grimaced. “Oh, you did?”

“Yes. He sounded surprised.”

“I purposely didn’t tell him,” Regan admitted. “What’s the story on that?”

“We believe it was an accident.”

“Really? Why?”

Mike shrugged. “There are no signs of a struggle on her body. She doesn’t have any known enemies, from what we can gather. Her credit history is good. She didn’t have a lot of money, but she paid her bills. We were told she walked home along the beach and liked to stop and sit on the jetty. They’re doing toxicology tests, but people have said she’d had a couple of drinks. She probably just slipped and fell into the water. Those jetties can get incredibly slippery, and there’s a strong undertow out there.”

“What about her family?” Regan asked.

“The only immediate family is a cousin. The hotel had his number, and we were able to reach him. He was naturally upset but said they weren’t close. I guess you heard about the stolen lei around her neck. Our big question is where she got it.”

“I heard all about it. How was it so quickly identified?”

“It has a very unusual arrangement of shells and different shades of coral stones that is really distinct. One of the guys who brought the body in today had been to the Seashell Museum last weekend with friends who were visiting from the mainland. He had seen the other royal lei on display and knew that its mate had been stolen. He put two and two together.”

“What are you going to do with the lei?”

“We gave it back to the owner of the museum. He’s so happy, he’s out of his mind. They’re auctioning off the matching lei this weekend at the ball at the Waikiki Waters to raise money for the museum.”

“I heard. I wonder if he’ll have them auction off this one as well.”

“I don’t know.”

“So the pair of leis are back together again after having been separated for thirty years.”

“That’s right. They’d been together in the museum for over fifty years, separated for thirty, and now they’re reunited. It’s quite a story.”

“But Dorinda Dawes arrived in Hawaii only three months ago. Does anyone have any idea where she might have gotten that lei?”

“She probably didn’t even know what she had. And she probably didn’t steal it. Apparently she claimed that she had never been to Hawaii before three months ago, and she was a teenager when it was stolen.”

“That girl over there”-Regan pointed to Jasmine who was posing at the bar-“knew Dorinda Dawes in New York.”

“I’ve noticed her in here before,” Mike said. “Something tells me she’s a real player.”

B ack at the Waikiki Waters, Will Brown kept himself busy with paperwork all night. He called Kit and Regan’s room a number of times to see if they were back yet. No luck. He wandered out to the reception area for about the twelfth time when he saw them get out of a Land Cruiser.

“Hello,” he said as he ran to greet them.

“Hi, Will,” Kit called out. “You’re burning the midnight oil.”

“No rest for the weary,” he joked. “As you know, it’s been quite a day around here. I’d love to buy you two a drink.”

“Actually,” Regan began, “I’m a little tired.”

Will lowered his voice. “I need to speak to you about a professional matter.”

Noticing how anxious Will looked, Regan acquiesced. “Maybe a quick one,” she said and looked at Kit who nodded in agreement.