Free 4 Maui Macadamia Madness by Cynthia Hickey Page A

my feet back into the flip-flops that had slipped
off when I plopped to the sofa, and followed my husband outside.
    No sun peeked
through the trees as it said farewell to the day. Instead, the moon hovered
above an inky ocean. Water lapped the shoreline with the relaxing sounds of
waves against sand. A paradise soured by two deaths.
    “We weren’t home for
long, Ethan.” I quick-stepped to keep up with him. “Someone needed easy access to Mrs. Aldrich. I think we need to look closer at
her husband.”
    He peered at me.
“You don’t think he’s too obvious?”
    “Maybe he wants the
police to think just that.”
    “What’s his motive?”
    I shrugged. “That’s
the million dollar question.” I slipped my hand in his, loving the feel of his callouses .
    No lights shined
from my family’s cottages.
    “Let’s go down to
the beach.” I squeezed Ethan’s hand. “We have a suspect list. The two of us can
maybe come up with some motives.”
    “Maybe. But it’ll be tough without asking some
questions.” He turned toward the main building. “What do you think about trying
to get into Mr. Jamison’s room?”
    “You mean illegal
entry?” I grinned. “I’m all for it!”
    “ Shhh .” He laughed and pulled me behind a bush. “We need a plan.”
    “We can be drunk newlyweds looking for our room. Maybe no one will be
around other than the maid, and she might not know exactly where we’re staying.
I haven’t run into her much.” Adrenaline coursed through me. I didn’t think,
God forgive me, I could ever get tired of spying on people or sneaking into places
I wasn’t supposed to be.
    Most likely, I’d
have to answer to God someday but I was certain He would understand. After all,
He gave me my insatiable curiosity.
    “Do you know how to
act drunk?” Ethan’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight.
    “I’ve seen actors do
it. How hard can it be?”
    “Let’s just be so
engrossed in each other that we are oblivious to anyone around us.”
    “That will work
too.” I slipped my arm through his and snuggled close. “Lead
on, handsome husband of mine.”
    “We need a glimpse
of the guest book to see which room is his,” Ethan said. “Pray it’s left where
we can find it.”
    The foyer of the Bed
and Breakfast was empty. The dining room was set for breakfast. The living room
was dark but for a single lamp burning. I remembered Mrs. Wahine saying guests were welcome to sit and read at any hour of the day or night.
Closed on the welcome desk was a burgundy leather book.
    “That’s it.” These
people were either very trusting or very stupid. I flipped open the cover to
April 3 and ran my finger down the page. “Here it is. He was in cottage number
two.”
    “Back
of the property. Convenient for a killer.” Ethan pulled me along with him and
out the double French doors leading to the cottages farther away from the
ocean.
    “Who has access to
the nuts?”
    His steps slowed.
“Nuts?’
    “The
gift box that’s given to every guest. Wasn’t he poisoned by them?” We continued our walk. “Do we know what
kind of poison?”
    “Maybe Joe can find
out. It would have to be something undetectable by the guest.”
    I know if I wanted
to poison someone, I would use plain old easy-to-get rat poison. Or arsenic, maybe. Anything I could dilute in water and
inject into something would be my weapon of choice. If I were a murderer, that
is.
    We stopped in front
of cottage number two. Yellow crime scene tape, having come loose from a nearby
bush, waved an eerie welcome in the night breeze. Not a good advertisement for
the Wahine B & B.
    I figured the front
door would be locked, but used the hem of my dress to turn the handle anyway.
Yep. Locked. Ethan motioned toward the side of the
building.
    Staying in the
shadows, we made our way to the back where approximately two feet above my head
was the bathroom window. Open and beckoning us to enter.
    “Give me a boost.” I
put my hands on Ethan’s shoulders. “Once I get