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FIVE-THIRTY, THE TIME I’d set the alarm on my phone before falling asleep, came sooner than I found I wanted. The doctor warned I'd sleep more than usual or less than usual until I had recovered from the concussions. So far at least it seemed like it was going to be the former for me. I wasn't quite sure Malone had mentioned this facet of the private detecting business. Getting bashed on the head on a routine basis wasn't something I'd expected. I wasn’t keen to experience that with regularity.
Pushing myself into a sitting position, I sensed a headache was beginning. I was happy it was more of a dull ache than the severe type I’d had before. I walked to the bathroom and took a couple of the pills they had given me at the hospital and chased them with water. I looked into the mirror. My hair was a mess, and I had dark gray circles under my eyes. At least I had some time to pull myself together before Mike was due to pick me up.
After a scalding hot shower, I went to work with two shades of concealer to cover the dark circles. I dotted my face with foundation. I buffed it into my skin, being gentle around my eyes, so I didn’t remove the concealer beneath them. It took a good half hour, but I managed to achieve my goal. I'd blended the concealer and foundation into one so that I achieved the natural look I was going for. It wasn’t my habit to wear make up much. I preferred the natural look. But beyond the eye imperfections, my face was a bit pale. I hadn’t had enough time in the sun lately. Satisfied I looked presentable after drying and brushing my hair I was ready to get dressed.
Having retrieved my luggage, I had a wider selection of outfits to choose from. Settling on a little black dress I thought was flattering, I dug through my suitcase for undies. I was careful to select matching bra and undies, some lacy black ones. I didn't plan anything happening after dinner with Mike. After all, it was the first date. But a wise girl is always prepared for anything. I’d accepted long ago that after some drinks, I tended to lose a few inhibitions.
The passing thought of Mike and sex left me feeling a bit conflicted and a bit angry with myself. Mike was an attractive man, and I was a modern feminist with every right to express my own sexuality. But I knew very well the source of the conflicted feelings, my infatuation with Malone.
I’d had my chances, but I hadn’t had sex since I’d forced myself to acknowledge the feelings I had for him. I knew why I hadn't. Even now the brief thought of Mike and sex had skewered me with feelings of disloyalty toward Malone. The feelings were as ridiculous as they were familiar. For fuck’s sake. How could I still be so obsessed with a man I was never going to have the chance to be with.
I shook off the impending slide into a full on pity party. I resisted another bout of self-loathing over my unrequited crush. After slipping on the dress, I added a gold choker and matching delicate gold bracelet to my outfit. I put my feet into a pair of black patent leather pumps with three-inch heels. A last minute check in the mirror, and I was off to the lift for the ride down to the lobby to wait for Mike’s arrival.
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MIKE WALKED INTO THE lobby at ten of seven, scoring points for promptness. He looked dashing in khaki Dockers with a blue sports coat and tie. He escorted me outside where he had left his car, a red Jeep Grand Cherokee. We made small talk while he drove us to the other end of Waikiki to an Italian restaurant that he said I was sure to like.
It was an awesome evening, perfect for being outdoors, and Mike had reserved a table on the patio. We began the night with a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio while we waited for our food. Mike had lasagna. I ordered the shrimp fettuccine that our server had recommended. We drank some wine and chatted until the server brought us salads.
"Any leads on where Adam Morton has got off to?" I said.
"Not yet," Mike said. "But my guess is he is still on the island."
"What makes you so certain?" I said.
"We have alerts out to all the airports," Mike said. "He can't get a commercial or charter flight out. And, there have been no stolen helicopter reports."
"No stolen planes?" I said.
"We aren't concerned about that," Mike said. "We checked his records. He only flies helicopters."
"There are heaps of helicopter tour operators on Oahu," I said. "Morton could get off the island that way."
"We've got that covered. We've taken flyers with Morton's photo and description to all the tour operators. A helicopter wouldn't do him much good anyway."
"How so?" I said.
"He couldn't get far in a helicopter. According to the owner of one tour operator I spoke with a chopper has a range of around 300 nautical miles. That’s enough to get to any of the eight major islands in the chain, but not even close to enough to get away from Hawaii."
"Where do you think he might have got off to," I said.
"Hard to say," Mike said. "I expect he'd want to go someplace remote and out of the way. He'd want a place to lay low without attracting attention until he comes up with some plan to escape the islands. You could find places like that on any of the islands, even here on Oahu for that matter."
"He does have heaps of cash," I said. "I suppose there are places in the islands if you know how to find them where you can get fake documents. If he got a fake passport, changed his hair, and say grew a beard, he might be able to slip past airport security."
"Fake documents good enough to fool the TSA in this post 9/11 era would be a stretch not to mention expensive," Mike said. "It doesn’t seem logical Morton would want to spend a significant part of the money he’s got making his escape. Speaking of the money, it occurs to me I never asked you how much money Morton took."
"It was $750,000," I said. "In a way that’s a lot, but it doesn't seem enough to pay for a lifetime on the run." I wasn’t sure why I had lied to Mike, telling him it was $750,000 instead of the full one million dollars.
"It’s definitely more money than I could ever imagine having at one time living on a police detective’s salary."
"Yep, more than I ever expect to have at one time too," I said. "What’s going to happen to Shaw’s estate now that his wife and daughter are also dead?"
"From what I’ve heard, Douglas Shaw didn’t have any other living relatives," Mike said. "It’s conjecture at this point. But I’ve heard his money will end up going to the state unless a distant relative appears to make a claim."
"That’s good in a way," I said. "At least if the money is never recovered, no flesh and blood person is going to suffer as a result."
"Yes, but I’m sure the politicians here would prefer to see that money go into the state treasury," Mike said. "Along with the rest of Shaw’s estate."
The server brought our entrees, and we were quiet for a bit while we ate. Mike ordered a second bottle of wine. I was more of a red wine person, but the Pinot Grigio was quite good.
"This fettuccine is amazing," I said. "You chose quite a nice restaurant for us. Good on you."
"Yes, the food is always great here. It’s one of my favorite restaurants here in Honolulu. There are some others I’d love to take you too, but I thought this one would be a good start."
After dinner and after we had finished the last of the second bottle of wine Mike invited me to cross the road and take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. I took off my shoes, and the wet sand felt amazing on my bare feet.
"It’s such a super evening, I’m surprised there aren’t more people on the beach," I said. "We almost have it all to ourselves."
"There is a city ordinance against being on the public beaches after dark," Mike said. "But in the interest of tourism enforcement isn't exactly strict."
"I suppose that would be bad for the tourist trade," I said.
"It’s a little late for a movie, but I’m not ready to say goodnight," Mike said. "What else would you like to do?"
"The wine you picked for us at dinner was awesome," I said, "but I could do with a proper cocktail. We could go back to my hotel for drinks. There are some nice bars there."
"Sounds like a plan," Mike said.
I put my shoes on, and we made our way back to where Mike had parked the Jeep, and he drove us back to the hotel. I led the way to the bar with outdoor seating that I had visited before. Mike had the traditional Mai Tai, and I ordered a Coconut Mojito.
After our second round, bored of sweet rum drinks, we changed it up. Mike switched to scotch, and I started drinking tequila shots with lime and salt. With a little persuasion, I got Mike on board with the shots too. It reminded me of the first time Malone, and I had gone drinking. I was feeling a bit buzzy, but the thoughts of Malone had me packing a bit of a sad at the same time. Mike seemed to pick up on the vibe.
"Are you tired?" Mike said.
"Yep, a bit, actually," I said. "Damn concussions. I’m still not my old self yet."
"Could be it's not a great idea to drink so much until you get over the concussions," Mike said.
"Oi, I haven’t had that much to drink," I said. "And, thanks for not monitoring my liquor intake unless you want to wind me up. I’m a big girl, and us Kiwis like our drinks. It’s something I’m quite capable of sorting for myself."
Mike winced a bit under the sudden barrage. "I’m sorry, T. J.," he said. "I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I’m only concerned about you that’s all."
"No, worries then mate," I said. "All good."
It wasn’t that I was angry with Mike. But the discussion about my drinking had soured my mood. To be fair, I had already started leaning towards the irritable side of things. The tingling in my bits I’d felt earlier when we were walking on the beach was now long gone. I knew that finishing the date beneath the sheets in my bed wasn’t happening.
"I am feeling a bit knackered," I said. "I should call it a night and get some rest."
"I understand," Mike said. "Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevator."
"Ahkay," I said. I was thankful that he hadn’t said he would walk me to my room since I had already decided the date was over. I didn’t want the evening to end with drama at the door to my room.
At the lift, I pushed the button for my floor. While we waited, I leaned in and gave Mike a quick peck on the lips and then a hug. "It was lovely," I said. "Thanks for that. I hope we can do it again when I’m feeling a bit more flash."
"Sure, I’d like that," Mike said. "In fact, if you’re free for dinner tomorrow evening I’d love to take you to another restaurant on my list of favorites."
"I’m keen to have dinner with you again soon," I said. "But not tomorrow evening, actually. I’ve been here a week and haven’t seen any of the sights. I'm planning to do a bit of sightseeing tomorrow, and I’ll get back late. How about the day after?"
"Okay, sure, the day after would be great," Mike said.
"Sweet as," I said. The doors opened, and I got on the lift. "See you," I said.
"Goodnight, and sleep well," Mike said.
"Ta," I said. The doors closed and the lift started up.
