Just Needs Killin Read Free Page B

inside. To tell the truth, I was a little worried it was a set up. Like, you know, he'd be nekkid or somethin'."
    "And?"
    "Yup. As the day he was born. But deader than Elvis."
    "Some might debate just how dead that is."
    To lubricate our higher cognitive processes, we were working our way through the minibar. I splashed a mini-bottle of Jose Cuervo over a glass of rocks.
    Jan turned from staring out to sea, and squinted puffy eyelids at me. She took a hit of Kahlua straight from the tiny bottle. "Huh?"
    "Did you, like, touch him?" I asked.
    "Eeewww, no."
    "Then how do you know for sure he's even dead?"
    "Lemme think. His head is about three feet from his body. That qualify, Detective Coffey?"
    I finished off my tequila and selected the next bottle in line: vodka. No rocks. "Yep, that'd about get 'er done. Okay, I gotta think."
    "That'd be different."
    "Excuse me, Miz Jan, as I recall, you're the one who got us into this debacle. I'm trying to deliberate our way out of it. I'm thinking we get the hell out of this hotel, drive back to the boat, and forget the whole thing."
    "You're right. But, doncha think we oughta at least throw a blanket over Ishi or somethin'? Doesn't seem quite right to leave him like that. Butt nekkid an' all."
    "Okay, that is totally illogical."
    "I'm just thinking of Kayo."
    "Kayo? Who the hell is that?"
    "Ishi's wife."
    "How will she know whether he was covered or not?"
    "I dunno, just seems wrong, leaving him like that. I mean, they probably won't find his body until tomorrow morning."
    "I doubt that. Isn't he the one throwing the luau? Someone will surely wonder why he isn't at his own party, and go looking for him."
    "Yeah, I guess. Oh, hell!"
    "What?"
    "The front desk. They saw me, and they must know Ishi paid for my room. When they find him—"
    "They'll be looking for Hetta Coffey. Thanks a whole hell of a lot."
    "Sorry, I just thought it wouldn't be a good idea to use my name."
    "There a million jillion names in the world. Why mine?"
    She shrugged. We sat in silence, each trying to figure out how we'd gotten into yet another mess.
    Well, we both knew that; it is what we do .
    Jan screwed the top off a gin bottle. "So, any ideas yet?"
    "Yep, but you aren't going to like them."
    "Probably not. I never like anything you think up, but somehow I end up going along."
    "We gotta put on our big girl panties and go to that luau."
    "What? Are you freakin' nuts?" Jan unfolded to her full 5'11"—6'2" in those espadrilles—put her hands on her hips and looked down her nose at me. "No way, no how. And this time I mean it. And besides, I don't have any big panties. That'd be your department."
    I let that insult slide. "Sit down and hear me out. For starters, my pickup was logged into the resort, on a one-way-in, one-way-out road, at the guard shack. And there are probably cameras all over the lobby and maybe the hallways. And to make matters worse, you checked in to a room provided by a dead man. We've been seen .  If we don't show up at that party, we'll be way up on the suspect list when they find both pieces of your boyfriend."
    "He's not my boyfriend." After taking a swallow of straight gin that brought tears to her already teary eyes, she nodded. "But, bad as I hate to admit it, you might be right about going to the luau."
    "Okay then, let us ice the puff out of those eyes once again, maybe down a cup of strong coffee or two, and get ready to hula."
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    The party was in full swing when we arrived, complete with pigs roasting on spits, and hula dancers swaying to some pretty fancy ukulele plucking. Both the dancers and musicians looked suspiciously Mexican, but it's the theme that counts.
    Surveying the crowd, I didn't spot any formal security forces checking for invitations and crashers, just a pretty Mexican girl who greeted us with leis. She was, however, flanked by a couple of huge, mean-eyed dudes incongruously garbed in flowered shirts.
    Properly lei'd, Jan and I made for a