Dead On Arrival (A Malia Fern Mystery) Read online

  I looked up, expecting clothes to come flying over the top of the stall. A bag smacked the metal wall and bounced to the floor, out of my reach.

  “I can’t reach that.”

  Muttered, exasperated sounds came from the other side of the stall as he picked up the bag. A zipper tore open and I heard him digging through the contents of the bag. A muscle shirt and shorts flipped over the top of the stall without another word, followed by the whale call from the lobby.

  Pearl, thank God.

  “Just ask her out. The most she can do is say no.” A deep male voice chilled my bare skin. I quickly pulled Natua’s shirt over my head and began stepping into his shorts.

  “There’s no way her brother would allow that,” another man replied.

  “Um, ma’am, are you dressed?” Natua whispered.

  “My name’s Malia. Malia Fern.” I stepped out of the stall, and extended my hand in a professional greeting.

  His eyes flew to my chest in horror. He ignored my hand and I hid the sting his expression caused me as I dropped my hand to my side.

  “We have a problem,” Natua whispered.

  “What?” What could possibly be worse than what I had just gone through? “If the cops out there — find me in here — with you, I’m going to lose my job,” he explained.

  “But we didn’t do anything.” I filed his comment away in my ridiculous file and started for the door.

  He blocked my path, stepping between me and the end of this nightmare.

  “I’m new here,” He pleaded. “Trust me, I can’t be found with a prostitute in the men’s room.”

  “Excuse me?” My voice rose well above his whisper.

  “Shhhhhh!” He raised his finger to my lips to hush me.

  I smacked his hand away. Hands on hips, no doubt a pruney look covering my face as I pursed my lips together. “What did you call me?”

  “A prostitute.” He said it like he was giving me the definition from the dictionary. Ma∙li∙a Fern. [Mah-lee-a furn] Noun. Definition: A woman who engages in sexual intercourse for money; prostitute.

  My temper flared. “Where the hell did you get the idea that I was a prostitute?”

  Again, he looked tired of dealing with me. “Look, I’m sorry. Could you keep it down? I didn’t mean to insult you. Next time, I’ll say escort, sex therapist, lady of the evening, or whatever you want, but please don’t expose us.”

  “I am not a prostitute, a hooker, an escort or even a…a sex therapist!”

  Shushing me with his hands, he agreed, “Okay. Fine. Whatever. Just please, please keep quiet.”

  I remained quiet for a whole thirty seconds as he put his ear to the door and listened to the two cops in the lobby ordering donuts and coffee from Pearl, who had finally decided to show up. The half-minute mark turned out to be my limit for letting the topic go.

  “Who told you I was a whore?” I demanded.

  “Detective Kumu told me that you were the one who found the body. When I asked what you were doing on the beach, he said you were a prostitute,” he explained over his shoulder in a hushed voice.

  My teeth ground together involuntarily. “I’m going to kill him,” I declared.

  “That’s really not something you should be confessing to a cop,” he countered.

  “You’ll be the hero who solves the case.” I inhaled and slowly let the burn extinguish as I exhaled.

  “How about you just not kill him.” His matter-of-fact tone said what he failed to say. If the shoe fits — wear it.

  “He’s my brother! Of course, I’m going to kill him!” And maybe Natua next.

  He swung around and covered my mouth with his hand.

  “What was that?” Asked one of the men in the lobby.

  I yanked his hand from my mouth and stepped back.

  “Who’s out there?” I demanded.

  “Officer Kāne and Chun.” His response sounded desperate.

  “Biagio Kāne and his partner?” I asked.

  He nodded and relief swept through me. “I went to school with Biagio. Tell him you have to take a dump and he won’t come in; he’s got a weak stomach.”

  Natua cringed as if I’d insulted him. “First off, I don’t have to take a dump, I have to urinate.”

  What island was he born on? Nobody says urinate.

  “Badly,” he emphasized and I suddenly understood his attraction to the john. He had to pee. I felt a little bit of my spine soften with sympathy.

  “…and by now, I would be out there with Kāne and Chun with an empty bladder if a naked hooker hadn’t been standing in the men’s bathroom.”

  My sympathy disappeared quicker than it could form. “I. Am. Not. A. Hooker.”

  “Secondly,” he continued as if I hadn’t said a word, “Kāne and Chun were just standing over a decomposed body. I hardly think the idea of me taking a dump will keep Kāne out of the bathroom if he needs to go.” He paused, searching for another answer. “You could tell him about your allergic reaction and that you’re washing up so he can’t come in, then we’ll wait for them to leave.”

  He waited for my response as I gnawed on my lower lip. It was either that or lay into him and let Biagio and Chun storm the bathroom. To be honest, the last thing I wanted was to be caught wearing Mr. Sex-on-a-Surfboard’s clothing.

  “Fine.” I moved toward the door, and then stopped. “What about your police car? They know you’re here somewhere.” A solution hit me. “If they ask, I’ll say you walked across the street to pee since I was using the restroom.”

  Without waiting for permission, I grabbed the handle on the door and met his eyes. He didn’t want to step back. Didn’t want to lay his future in my hands. But he had no choice, he relinquished his position in front of the door and I slowly pulled it open to see the two cops in the lobby.

  “Where’s Natua? Wasn’t that his car in the lot?” Chun asked Pearl.

  Where the hell had she been when I needed her?

  “He went…” Pearl started.

  I interrupted. “Biagio?” With my head hanging out the doorway, I curled my finger toward my chest, motioning Kāne to come forward.

  Kāne smiled and headed toward me, his tennis shoes squeaking on the tile. At that moment, Natua decided I couldn’t handle it, and started forward like he’d handle the situation himself. I stopped him with my palm on his chest. My fingers splayed across his stiff bulletproof vest stilled him.

  “Hey, Mal, what are you doing in the men’s room?”

  “Arguing with my brother on the phone and trying to relieve an allergic reaction to sand fleas. The women’s restroom is closed for repair.” I held my arm out for him to see.

  Biagio cringed at the lovely sight of my welts.

  “Were you asking about the other cop parked out front?” I asked. Kāne nodded, and I continued, “He really had to go to the bathroom, but he let me use the restroom first because of my bites. I think he went across the street to pee. Please don’t get him in trouble. He was really nice.”

  “I’ll bet he was.” Sarcasm dripped from Kāne’s voice. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one aware of Natua’s reputation for being less than what my parents would want for me.

  “Look, I’ve had a really bad morning and I should have known better than to scrub with sand after I found that body. Please. I don’t want anyone else getting in trouble because I couldn’t make it home before I washed off.”

  “I won’t say anything, Mal. Not even to your brother. You want me to watch the door?” Kāne’s voice softened and took on a brotherly tone that my own brother was incapable of showing.

  “No, I don’t want Chun or anybody else to see me looking like this. If you could just get your food and leave?” I hoped he took my question as more of an instruction on how to handle the situation properly. He didn’t disappoint me.

  “Sure, but it’s going to take me a little bit to convince my partner to leave. He was going to ask you out.”

  “Really?” That was the first nice th
ing that had happened to me all day. I smoothed back my hair, flattered that despite all I’d been through, someone found me attractive.

  “Yeah, but I’ll convince him today’s not the day.”

  I put my hand on his wrist and thanked him, “Mahalo,” then closed the door. Natua and I stood with our backs to the door waiting for the officers to leave. He suddenly crossed his legs while his face tightened with pain. A vein on his forehead appeared.

  Not looking at each other, we listened to the low voices talking on the other side of the door, waiting for our moment of escape.

  Chun’s voice interrupted our wait. “There isn’t even any water running in there.”

  I looked to Natua, knowing the sound of water rushing down the drain was the last thing anyone wanted to hear when they had to pee as badly as he did. He nodded his permission and I went to the sink and turned on the faucet. In the mirror, I saw him bite his lip as water drizzled into the sink. His eyes closed as he reached his breaking point.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Fern, I can’t wait. I have to go.” His voice barely audible, he didn’t look at me as he entered the stall and locked the door.

  I heard his zipper unzip and I turned the faucet on full blast. His apology had been cute. Surprising me in a nice way. His polite manner in complete contrast to his reputation. Not only had he given me his clothes, he’d maintained a sense of professionalism most cops wouldn’t. Yeah, he said I had ‘nice coconuts’ and called me a prostitute, but could I really expect a guy not to comment on fruit molded to my breasts? Nor could I blame him for believing my lying brother when he found me naked in the men’s room. I also couldn’t fault him for getting irritated about me not thinking two minutes ahead in regard to my lack of clothing options. If he hadn’t barged in, I would have been cussing up a storm while desperately trying to wash out my clothes.

  Splashing the cool water on my arms, I tried not to think about what he was doing in the stall. I turn on the water harder, strictly for my benefit, not his. I didn’t want any images popping in my head. Images like his hand around his short leg.

  I adjusted his shirt, which was still damp from his body. The alluring scent of Cool Water Cologne mixed with his pheromones lingered in the weave of the cotton. The image in the mirror told more of my current mood than I wanted to admit. My nipples pointed through the damp cotton clinging to my breasts, daring me to deny his effect, and the armholes extending to my waist didn’t help conceal my chest, either.

  Whoosh!

  The roar of the toilet flushing signaled his imminent departure from the barrier between us. There was no way he was going to see me like this. If he looked at me and saw my boobs, which he couldn’t miss, he’d know what I was thinking.

  He’d know I was daydreaming about jumping his bones.

  And if he reacted in a positive way?

  I’d be on him like the manic surfers flocking to Pipeline during January.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I grabbed the stall door before he could open it. My hand clamped down on the cold metal of the side panel and the door, effectively keeping the door from moving.

  “Uh…what are you doing?” The door rattled gently as he tried to open it.

  “You can’t come out.” Please don’t ask me why.

  “Excuse me?” His voice was incredulous. Again, he shook the door. Any moment we’d be repeating our pushing contest. The one I’d lost and would no doubt lose again.

  The whale call hummed throughout the store signaling Biagio and Chun’s departure. I could just run out the door.

  “Listen, I helped you out and I gave you privacy. Now, you need to give me a little consideration…because your shirt isn’t doing the trick.”

  “Are you trying to rob me of my underwear?”

  “No!” I was trying to stay out of his underwear. Irritated he had been so close to the truth, I couldn’t stop the bite in my retort. “That is so typical of a man who thinks with his short leg. Listen, di…”

  The sound of him clearing his throat stopped my tongue before I finished ‘dick for brains.’ That would have ruined everything. I wasn’t sure if his non-verbal communication was from irritation or amusement. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and soothed my over-active tongue before it got me in more trouble.

  “I’m trying to reason with your common decency. In return for me giving you privacy, I’m asking you for a little compassion. This t-shirt is a little… revealing.” I was embarrassed even to say the word. I knew a man who noticed my coconuts, would look as soon as I opened the door.

  “Pull the bottom of the shirt up through the neck, then I’ll walk out in front of you.” His voice was stiff, irritated.

  Like he couldn’t wait to be rid of me. Damn. I ignored the damage to my ego and accepted his proposal.

  “Okay, but you need to give me a minute to fix the shirt.”

  “Let me know when you’re done.” Again, the sound of his desire to throw me out with the trash reverberated through his voice.

  Tentatively I released the door, and waited for him to renege on our deal, but the door remained closed.

  Quickly, I followed his instructions, effectively giving me a double layer of coverage across my chest and closing off the gap under my arms while baring my middle. A perfectly good trade off as far as I was concerned. Although, it’d look a lot better if I didn’t have welts encompassing my stomach. I looked in the mirror and tried to convince myself my nipples could pass for two of the many welts on my body. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t persuade anyone into that line of thinking.

  Especially not Officer Natua, so I gave up.

  “You can come out now.” He came out and we both tried to maintain eye contact.

  We failed miserably. His gaze traveled the length of my body in his clothes. Mine was drawn to the uniform concealing his short leg.

  “And by the way, I can assure you, the women who have taken a stroll with me…have never complained about my stride being too short.”

  I rolled my eyes but held my tongue. He would focus on the short leg comment. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t deny the increase in my heart rate or the slight moisture between my legs.

  I could also see he was telling the truth. His short leg was definitely not short.

  Chapter Five

  “I came to Pearl’s hoping to talk to you about the body on the beach,” I confessed.

  He cleared his throat for the zillionth time since we met. “How did you know I’d come here?”

  “I didn’t. But a lot of cops stop in on their way to HQ.”

  His eyebrow rose and a humorous twinkle sparkled in his eye.

  “My brother is a cop and my dad is a retired cop,” I explained before he drew the conclusion the cops I knew were all in Vice.

  “John Kumu really is your brother?” He sounded incredulous.

  “We have the same mother. His father died before he was born and our mom remarried.”

  Despite giving him more information than he deserved, Natua still questioned my story. “Why would your brother tell me you were a prostitute?”

  “Because he didn’t want you anywhere near me.”

  For whatever reason, that made sense to him. Natua nodded and moved forward like he’d never accused me of being a whore. “Why don’t we go get a cup of coffee? Then you can tell me about it.”

  He reached for my flea-ridden clothes and shoved them in his gym bag. I wasn’t sure if I should protest or be thankful he was carrying them for me.

  He turned toward the door, but being a typical guy, I caught him peek at my boobs one last time.

  Whump!

  The door smacked him on the forehead, catching him off guard. It was fairly reminiscent of the hit my ass took, except his head was a lot harder. He staggered back with his arm spread wide, groping for something to hang onto as he swayed. He found the very thing that got him in trouble in the first place. My boob.

  As soon as he touched me, I sucked in a whole lot of air and he yanked his hand back
before I could smack it away. He swayed and I moved behind him to steady his balance, lest he fall on top of me.

  Pearl stood in the doorway chomping on a piece of gum — one hand on her hip with her elbow holding the door open and her free hand grasping a spoon, full of batter. She glared past Natua, directly at me as the smell of cigarette smoke drifted into the room. If looks could kill, or spoons full of batter could pierce a woman’s heart, I’d be dead before I reached the door.

  Natua raised his hand to his wounded forehead while I hid behind his giant frame, pretending to keep him on his feet.

  “Looks like I caught cha with yer pants down, darlin’.” She popped her gum waiting for a reply.

  Rubbing his head, Natua glanced over his shoulder, then moved forward and held the door open. I hesitated until his body completely blocked Pearl’s path. “I was helping Ms. Fern, but I knew Kāne and Chun wouldn’t see it that way.”

  It was the truth. It just felt like a lie.

  It must have sounded like a lie to Pearl, because her eyes traveled from his crotch to my too-exposed boobs.

  “Un-huh. I knew ya were quick on yer feet, but hell, yer downright dangerous. I may have to re-think this relationship of ours. I don’t need anuther brokun’ heart.” Pearl stepped back on the opposite side of the door with the pinched look of a pious preacher’s wife, waiting for me to exit the restroom and proceed with my walk of shame.

  Natua scowled, the big goose egg forming in the middle of his forehead drawing Pearl’s attention. I, however, was too grossed out by the thought of the two of them being involved. A shutter of revulsion traveled through my body as I snuck by.

  Pearl attacked, catching us both off guard. Natua raised his arm to block the shot that wasn’t actually directed at him. Pearl’s spoon aimed over his shoulder directly at me. I made a run for the exit.

  Wet goo smacked the back of my head and slid down my shoulders. For a moment, I imagined I’d been impaled by a spoon, brain matter seeping down across Natua’s shirt. Someone screamed as I grabbed my head and made it through the door. The call of the whale followed me outside and I realized the goo dripping down my back was donut batter.