Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) by Jill Marie Landis Page B

weather wrecks it.”
    “So I’ve heard,” Em said.
    The officer leaned back and called toward the video room, “Hey, Elwin, is the system still broke?”
    “Still broke, uncle. Fix ’em bumbye.”
    “See?” He shrugged. “Nu’ting I can do.”
    Em gave up and went back to the press conference where most of the reporters were directing their questions to Louie.
    She watched with interest and finally when Louie was finished, she waved him over.
    “That was great,” she told him. “A couple of those guys weren’t very happy sharing the spotlight with you.”
    He looked back at the tables set up for the Shake Off promotion.
    “I’m not part of the in-crowd.” He frowned. “What they don’t get is I’m the real deal. I’m the true tropical concoctionist they’re all trying to be. I have a past. I have a story. I was around when tiki bars and exotica were invented.”
    Em studied the young men gathered across the outdoor lobby. They were decked out in vintage bark cloth aloha shirts and Rat Pack hipster fedoras reminiscent of Sinatra. They were even wearing black and white spectator wing tips. Didn’t they have a clue? No self-respecting tiki bar owner would wear hard shoes and socks in the tropics.
    “They’re probably all jealous of you.” She noticed one of the young guys was staring over at Louie while talking to one of his cohorts. “Most of the press was directing questions to you, I noticed.”
    He shrugged. “I know a few of these local reporters. The rest already know me through the show. I tried to share the spotlight. Believe me. I tried to get the press to ask more about Lamar dePesto. He’s the founder of this whole national contest. He started it about eight or nine years ago. Can I help it if I’m a celebrity?”
    Louie nodded toward a group of mixologists. “See the short guy in the mostly yellow shirt? His name is dePesto. He’s won the Western Regionals every year. He’s from San Diego. He hooked me up with the guy who rented me the monkey.”
    “How about telling them to pick up that monkey and that you want your money back? We could get rid of it tonight.”
    “I don’t want to insult him.”
    “No way you could insult that monkey.”
    “The owner. I don’t want to insult his owner. Or dePesto.” Louie had missed the joke altogether.
    She pictured the monkey smeared with conditioner. “Just say it didn’t work out.”
    “What are you thinking? You’re frowning.” He followed her gaze.
    Em tried to relax her expression. “Maybe dePesto is afraid you’ll take the crown.”
    “They don’t give out crowns. They give out golden swizzle sticks.”
    “Maybe he wants to win desperately enough to steal the Booze Bible,” she said.
    “You think?”
    “Who else would know how valuable it is?”
    If Louie wasn’t so tan he’d have lost all color in his face.
    “Maybe he’s already copied all my recipes.” Louie looked glum for a minute. “Did you find a costume?”
    “Not yet, but I found out there’s a costume shop within a short walk. It’s on Ala Moana in the Ilikai Hotel. They rent and sell. I’m going to walk on over and check them out.”
    “Great. Hope you find something.”
    “If I’m not back by seven, go ahead and leave without me. It may take a while for me to get back and changed. Just leave the ticket on the dresser in my room.”
    Louie hoisted his drink. “Arrrggghhh. Aye, aye, matie.”
    18
    IT WAS CLOSE TO six by the time Em walked into the costume store in the Ilikai Hotel within walking distance from the Hilton.
    Just inside the front door, the shelves to her right were lined with various lengths and colors of wigs on Styrofoam heads. The opposite wall was covered with accessories from hats to masks to capes, swords, whips, feather dusters, and handcuffs. The rest of the room was filled with costumes on hangers, and there were mannequins dressed in various costumes standing around.
    She checked out the handcuffs and pictured herself taking