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

heard Don’s voice singing a recognizable song. Some of the older guests teared up. The legendary entertainer had appeared at the Hilton Hawaiian Village for years.
    The Maidens started dancing. Kiki turned up the megawatts on her smile. She focused on the audience and not the manager as he started tapping on his cell.
    10
    EM WALKED BESIDE her uncle as they exited the Ali’i Tower, prepared to wander the grounds and decide where to have dinner.
    “I’m thinking we should have something substantial. We haven’t had anything healthy all day,” she said. “There’s a Benihana’s across Rainbow Drive.”
    “I’m not in the mood to eat.” Louie sounded lower than the sun after sunset.
    “Once you see food you might change your mind. Did you get registered for the contest?”
    “Yeah. It went quick. They were really organized. None of those hip young men running this thing would have been careless enough to lose a lifetime’s worth of recipes.”
    “I’m sure you’ll remember your entry recipe once you start mixing. Get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow you’ll . . .”
    They had crossed the grounds headed toward the beach. They were approaching the beach bar when Em recognized the shrill, short whoop-whoop bursts of a police siren.
    “What’s going on? Sounds like it’s coming from the beach,” she said.
    Louie was tall enough to see over the growing crowd. “I hate to say it, but it might be the girls.” He always used the term girls lightly.
    “Oh, no,” Em groaned. “Not already.”
    Louie grabbed her arm and maneuvered through the crowd of swimmers, surfers, and tourists knotted around the Hau Tree Bar outdoor bar. Kiki and the Hula Maidens were seated on the ground with their arms linked together.
    As Em and Louie walked up they started chanting, “We shall not be moo-oo-oved.”
    Pat yelled, “Louder, ladeeze!”
    Apparently, Pat had opted not to join the sit in but was running things from the sideline.
    If things weren’t bad enough, a news crew was set up on the beach side of the bar, complete with a handheld camera. Em recognized Moanike’ala Nabarro, the KITV reporter and weather girl. She was holding a mic, conferring with the camera operator.
    As much as she hated to get embroiled in the Maidens’ latest fiasco, Em knew there was no way out. She walked up to Pat, whose buzzed hair was spiked and glossy with pomade. The essence of Old Spice wafted around her. Em tugged on the sleeve of Pat’s bright aloha shirt until she had her attention.
    “What happened?” Em asked.
    “Do ya want the long or the short of it?”
    “Abridged, if possible.”
    Pat started holding up fingers as she ticked off facts.
    “One, the ladies were performing. Two, the manager tried to stop ’em. Three, he claims he don’t have a cabaret license or somethin’. Four, folks started yellin’ for him to leave them alone and let ’em dance. Five, Kiki said hula is a cultural experience, and ya don’t need a cabaret license. Six, the manager called hotel security. Seven, hotel security was afraid of the crowd ’cause it’s gettin’ surly. Eight, security called 911. Nine, the beach cops rolled up on their big wheels. Ten.” Pat stared at her hands. “Damn it,” she said. “I’m outta fingers.”
    “Just go on,” Em urged.
    “Well, the news crew was doin’ a weather spot on the Waikiki sunset at a Pineapple Upside Down Cake Contest and heard the commotion. They arrived the same time as the police pulled up. Kiki told the weather girl the Maidens have every right to perform.
    She said, ‘We’re the Hula Maidens!’”
    Pat paused to take a breath.
    “And here we are,” Em sighed.
    She spotted a guy who had to be the bar manager. He appeared to be more flustered than the other staff. The waiters and waitresses were doing their best to accommodate the customers despite the swelling crowd. Cops were spread out around the edge of the crowd, some in uniform, some still obviously cops in aloha