“I’d prefer you with a sunburn.”

Regan laughed. But she had to admit to herself that things at the Waikiki Waters were a little “off.” And probably destined to get worse.

E ven though the waves were great and the scenery magnificent-with the mountains serving as a backdrop and the cloudless blue sky, turquoise ocean, and white sand beach-Ned could barely concentrate on his surfing. He had taken Artie to a cove where the waves were smaller than out on the open sea. Ned demonstrated how to paddle out, place your hands on either side of the board, and jump to your feet. They practiced on the sand, and then Artie went out by himself, eager to catch a wave. All Ned could think about was the fact that the lei he had stolen years ago was back at the Seashell Museum. How was it possible? What happened to that couple who bought the lei from him at the airport?

As Ned paddled through the water on top of his board, he thought about the story he’d heard of a kid who threw a bottle in the ocean with a note stuffed inside asking whoever found it to get in contact. How many years did it take before the bottle finally washed ashore? At least twenty years, Ned remembered. Lucky the kid’s parents were still living at the address in the bottle-not like his parents who moved so much they never once finished unpacking their boxes. They schlepped them from house to house to house. When Ned’s dad finally retired and they moved to a condo in Maine, they ended up throwing out most of the stuff they’d carted around for years. It made Ned crazy.

If any of Ned’s old classmates had ever tried to find him, it would have been an impossible task. But that was the way Ned liked it. He didn’t want anyone from his childhood to come knocking at his door. Keep the past in the past, he often thought.

But the lei. When he sold it to the people at the airport, he was sure he would never see it again, and that was fine with him. The couple was on their way to God knows where. He remembered that the wife kept calling the husband by some weird name. What was it again? I can’t possibly expect to remember, he thought, but it was unusual, and it made him laugh at the time. And now the lei was back in Hawaii. Back at the museum. And he was back after having moved away with his family all those years ago. After Ned separated from his wife, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. So he moved from Pennsylvania to Hawaii. What a coincidence that both he and the shell lei had found their way back to paradise. It must mean something, he thought. I’ve got to see the lei again.

“Hey, Artie,” he yelled, “that’s it!” Ned was amazed to see that Artie actually got up on the board and was riding a wave. He even looked happy. On the shore, Francie was cheering. Ned was relieved that she had opted against surfing. It was difficult enough to teach one person to surf, and after reading that newspaper article, Ned had a lot on his mind. But he was glad Francie was along. She could watch him show off on the board. This is what he craved-attention. People listening to him. People who didn’t think he was a geek.

Artie had on a wet suit, but Ned thought they were for wimps. The Pacific Ocean felt good on his body. All he wore besides his bathing suit were rubber shoes. He told the others that the broken shells in the water could be fierce when you’re trying to get in or out and that he had a bad cut on the bottom of one foot. He did a song and dance about how coral cuts could lead to serious infections. Of course he really wore the shoes to cover up those stupid toes of his.

When he thought about it, he couldn’t believe there was ever a time in his life when he wore sandals. As a matter of fact, he realized, the last time he had worn sandals was in Hawaii all those years ago. First that lady whose husband bought the lei couldn’t take her eyes off his feet. It was as if she was in shock. Later that night he got in a fight at a bar with some drunken freak who made fun of his toes. After that he vowed he’d never let them be exposed again. Tough work for an athlete who loved water sports. Somehow he managed.

I look cool in these seaweed-colored shoes, he thought. It’s all in the attitude. He tried to teach that to the kids he worked with at the hotel-especially the ones with no natural athletic ability. If I didn’t have such a taste for crime, I could have been a really swell guy.

He steadied himself and got up on the board as a wave was coming in. He stood and balanced himself, riding the wave and feeling the thrill. He could feel his endorphins kicking in as his surfboard glided through the water. It was an exhilarating feeling.

But it wasn’t the same high as stealing.

He was laughing when the ride ended, and he and Artie together carried their boards to the shore.

“That was great!” Francie cried. “I should try it again one of these days!”

“I have to admit it was fun,” Artie said as he caught his breath.

“I’m getting hungry. Why don’t we go back and grab a late lunch?” Ned suggested.

“Then we can hit the beach,” Francie suggested.

“Sure,” Ned agreed, but he had no intention of going to the beach again this afternoon. He had business to take care of at the Seashell Museum.

O n a black sand beach north of the Kona airport, Jason and Carla walked hand in hand, only letting go of each other to pick up coral shells. They had already filled two shopping bags.

“Will we always be this happy?” Carla asked Jason as they put their shopping bags down, walked to the water’s edge, and let the ocean swirl around their feet.

“Hope so.” He paused. “But the odds are against us.”

Jason laughed as Carla poked him in the ribs. “You’re not very romantic.”

“I was just kidding! And I am romantic. I was waiting for a moonlit night to propose. I should have checked the Farmer’s Almanac, and then I would have known it wasn’t a good idea. My best intentions just got me in trouble.”

Carla kissed him on the cheek. “I still can’t believe I was walking on that beach at the same time Dorinda Dawes was floating around in the water.”

“You gave me a good scare. I wake up at three in the morning, and you’re gone.”

“It was scary on the beach at that hour. Something out there struck me as weird, but I was a little tipsy so I don’t remember what it was. I really want to think of it so I can help that girl Regan.”

“What do you mean weird?” Jason asked.

“Like I saw something strange. Not a murder weapon or anything, but something was out of place.”

“You usually forget nothing, especially what I do wrong.”

Carla laughed. “I know, but we’d been drinking piña coladas by the pool all afternoon and had wine at dinner. And then I grabbed a couple of beers from the mini bar before I went on the beach. I’m surprised you didn’t smell it on my breath.”

“What did you do with the bottles?”

“I threw them into the ocean when I was finished.”

“Litterbug.”

“I made a wish on each one.”

“What did you wish?”

“Well, one wish came true. You finally proposed.”

“What was your second wish?”

“That it doesn’t rain on the big day. Or else my hair will frizz, and I’ll go nuts.”

“Some people say rain brings good luck.”

Carla smiled at him sweetly. “With you I don’t need any more luck. I’m not greedy.”

Jason hugged her. He wouldn’t let himself think too much about the fact that this girl he loved was walking around on the beach when, quite possibly, a murder was being committed-all because it was cloudy and he hadn’t proposed. There’s no question, he thought, that Regan Reilly is asking questions because they don’t think it was a simple drowning. “I think we have enough of these shells to write out the Gettysburg Address,” he finally said. “Let’s get in the car and find a good spot to declare our love for each other to anyone who bothers to read Hawaiian graffiti.”