Murder in Honolulu: A Skye Delaney Mystery Read Online Free

alone.
    I had a one-year-old Subaru Forester that
fit quite nicely into my current monthly payment budget. I drove to
Waikiki, where I owned a nice house on a palm tree lined, dead-end
street not far from the beach. I purchased the two-story plantation
style home shortly after my divorce was finalized from an elderly
couple who decided to move back to the mainland. It was my good
fortune to be in the right place at the right time to get the
property, which had been well maintained and reminded me of the
home where I grew up on the island. My parents had been beach bums
who island hopped before settling into Oahu and having me.
    I could hear my dog barking when I pulled
into the driveway. Ollie was a five-year-old German Shepherd, named
after my late uncle who was as mean as a junkyard dog and ornery as
ever. In fact, more often than not, Ollie was just the
opposite—sweet and gentle as a lamb, as long as he was not
provoked.
    Opening the front door was all he needed to
make me eat my thoughts, as Ollie literally attacked me. Okay, so
it was just his way of playing and asking me "Where the hell have
you been all day?" Or maybe "I'm hungry as a dog. What's for
supper?"
    We ended up wrestling for a few minutes
before I turned on the ceiling fan in the living room, then fed
Ollie his favorite dog food. He wanted more, but I wasn't about to
let him get fat on me. That wouldn't help either of us.
    After freshening up and changing into a
sleeveless shirt and denim shorts, I allowed my sore feet some
freedom from footwear, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor
and into the kitchen. I made myself a salad and ate it with two
slices of wheat bread and a glass of red wine. Ollie loved to hang
out on the kitchen's cool ceramic tiles more than anywhere else in
the house.
    However, the kitchen floor still took second
place to the backyard. When he began to grow restless, I got the
picture, letting him out of the house to run around in our nice
sized, fenced in yard. I joined Ollie a few minutes later and
tossed a Frisbee around for him to chase, making sure he stayed
clear of my vegetable garden.
    Back inside, I watered the flamingo flowers , vanda orchids , and heart leaf philodendron I kept
throughout the house, which helped give the place a Hawaiian
botanical garden look.
    By the time I was ready to call it a night,
I had tucked Ollie in his basement hideaway, read a couple of
chapters of a John Lescroart novel, and watched the news.
    Before drifting off to dreamland, I had more
or less decided that, for better or worse, I would take on the task
of spying on the current wife of Carter Delaney. Business was
business, I convinced myself, even if it happened to involve my
ex-husband and his ex-mistress. I still hadn't decided if I wanted
his suspicions to prove false or right on the money.
    Only time would tell...
     

 
    CHAPTER
THREE
     
    Every morning at five o'clock, Ollie and I
ran on the beach for an hour or so. While he was comfortable in his
furry body, I preferred a loose T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes.
Staying in tiptop shape was becoming more and more difficult for me
as gravity and age became natural obstacles. Fortunately, I had
determination and powerful legs on my side. Ollie also had
determination and strong legs, matching me step for step on a short
leash.
    It was seven o'clock when I called Carter's
office. His voicemail picked up so I left a message for him to call
me. Oddly, in not having to speak directly to the man I once could
never get enough of, I somehow felt as if I had been given a
reprieve.
    Maybe this wasn't meant to be after
all , I thought .
    Somehow, I had a feeling I wouldn't be let
off the hook that easily. As if on cue, the phone rang and it was
Carter on the other end.
    "Aloha kakahiaka, Skye," he said, which
meant good morning in Hawaiian.
    If you say so , I thought, but
responded nicely in kind: "Aloha kakahiaka back at you."
    "Hope I didn't wake you," he said, sounding
like he really meant