“Aloha, Boone Kettle here,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.

Regan considered how incongruous it sounded for this Montana cowboy to say “aloha.” She brushed that thought aside. “Hello, Boone. My name is Regan Reilly, and I’m doing some work for the Waikiki Waters Resort where Dorinda Dawes worked writing their newsletter-”

“It’s such a dang shame about her,” Boone interrupted. “I couldn’t believe it when I read the story in the paper. But I do think she had a thirst for danger. She was a bronco that needed to be broken.”

“What do you mean?” Regan asked.

“Who did you say you are?” Boone inquired.

“Regan Reilly. I’m a private investigator working for the manager of the Waikiki Waters Resort. I wanted to know if maybe she talked to you about what was going on in her life-”

“I get it. You mean if there was anything she said that would indicate someone might want to off her.”

“Something like that. What makes you think she had a thirst for danger?”

“She told me she felt a little frustrated. When she was hired by the manager, she thought it was to liven things up at the Waikiki Waters. But as it turned out, if you’re writing a newsletter about a hotel and their guests, everything in it has to be hunky-dory. The hotel doesn’t want gossipy things written about it, and the guests don’t want ‘spicy’ tidbits written about them. So Dorinda’s hands were tied, and she was a little bored. She was even a little worried that they might not want to continue the newsletter when her contract was up. I know she was worried about making enough money to live in Oahu. She said she was going to be writing one profile a month for the magazine but was intent on starting her own gossip sheet-something with the word ‘Oahu’ in the title. Truth be told, she hinted that she wanted to get into something a little juicier.”

“Juicier?” Regan prodded.

“Something with a little more bite. She wanted to find out what’s going on behind all the fancy hotels and the private homes. She felt the newsletters were puff pieces. The profile she did of me was good. Did you read it?”

“Yes. It was great.”

“Yup. Good picture, huh?”

“Very good picture, yes. Boone, did you spend much time with Dorinda?”

“She came up here three times. I took her out on a horseback ride. She was a pistol. Whew-ee! She wanted me to take her on the most difficult trails. I obliged. We had fun and then went to dinner.”

“What did she talk about at dinner?”

“You know, I think she was lonely because she never stopped talking about herself. Maybe that’s because we’d been talking about me all day. She told me a little bit about her life back in New York. Oh, I remember one thing she talked about that might be of interest. She said that she was trying to decide who would be the subject of her next profile, and there was a guy who kept bugging her to write about him but she didn’t want to.”

“What did he do?”

“Something with Hawaiian clothing.”

“What about Hawaiian clothing?” Regan asked quickly.

“He was designing them or something. But Dorinda felt he was too much of a capitalist. He had a lot of money, so it wasn’t like he had to succeed at a second career in Hawaii. He never has to work again if he doesn’t want to. So she didn’t think he was a good candidate for the Spirits in Paradise. Neither did the editor of the magazine. But they liked old Boone!”

Regan couldn’t believe it. Could Boone be talking about Jazzy’s boss?

“It sounds like Dorinda opened up to you,” Regan commented.

“I’m a good listener. I guess it’s from all those years sitting around the campfire.”

“Uh-huh.” Regan quickly wound up the conversation. She promised to get up to the ranch for a little “giddyap” when she visited the Big Island, secured Boone’s home and cell numbers, and hung up. She immediately dialed Will’s direct line.

“Is Jazzy there?” she asked.

“No.”

“I’m coming over. I really need to talk to you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Will said wearily. “I really need to talk to you.”

J oy had rented a beach chair, slathered on suntan lotion, and parked herself on the sand close to the lifeguard stand, but not too close. Zeke was up there keeping an eye on the masses, and she enjoyed stealing a glance at him every few minutes. She knew that he was checking her out, too, but she pretended to be engrossed in her magazine.

I can’t wait until tonight, she thought. Maybe we’ll really click, and he’ll ask me to move in with him. Then I can get out of Hudville. Now that I’ve won this vacation, there’s nothing left worth staying for in that puddle-ridden boondocks. Since you can’t win this junket twice, I’m never going back to any of those stupid Praise the Rain meetings. Joy couldn’t believe that her parents didn’t mind living there. Her mother believed Hudville was the perfect place to live if you wanted to avoid wrinkled skin. Better than Botox, she always told Joy. Joy had other ideas.

Bob and Betsy, wearing slacks and camouflage hats, walked past Joy down to the water’s edge. Those two are so weird, she thought. Didn’t they say they had to stay in today and write about their exciting relationship?

What a tour group. Joy shook her head. It’s unbelievable. We have almost nothing in common. Gert and Ev leading Artie, Francie, Bob, Betsy, and me. The twins are the only ones who get to go to Hawaii every three months. What a waste. They never take advantage of what Hawaii has to offer. All they do is prance around the hotel in their muumuus and chaperone our meals. Tonight I’ll have dinner with them and then take off. That’s the only way to eat for free. They’ve been such penny-pinchers, encouraging us to lay off the appetizers. They even invited us to their room one night for cheese and crackers and cheap wine so they wouldn’t have to pay for the expensive tropical cocktails that came from the blender. I don’t think that’s what our benefactor had in mind.

And that Francie. She drives me nuts asking about my love life every night. I don’t want to talk about it with her. She’s older than my mother! She confessed to me last night that she had a crush on Ned. Well, at least they’re around the same age.

Joy watched as Betsy and Bob kicked water at each other. Bob looked as if he was really getting into it, almost in a mean way. I hope he falls over backward, Joy thought. She looked up at Zeke who had told her last night that he was a people person. Maybe I should go over and talk to them and let Zeke see that I love people, too. Joy hoisted herself out of the beach chair and, knowing full well that Zeke was watching, did her best sexy strut over to the water. Bob and Betsy had their backs to her, facing the sea. They didn’t realize she was right behind them.

Joy could barely overhear what they were saying. Are they calling each other Bonnie and Clyde? she wondered. These two are definitely from the twilight zone.

“Hi.” Joy announced her presence.

The two of them spun around. “Joy! What are you doing here?”

“I was sitting on the beach and saw you walk down to the water. What are you two doing here? You’re not exactly dressed for the occasion.”

“We’re taking a break from our writing,” Bob explained. “We wanted to get a little fresh air.”

“Too bad you have to work when you’re on vacation,” Joy opined.

You’re not kidding, Betsy thought.

“This book is going to help a lot of people,” Bob told Joy. “You are young and can’t imagine that a relationship could get dull. But believe me, it can. We all need help.”

Joy stole a quick glance at Zeke. He looked awesome. There was no way things would ever get dull with him. She was sure of that.

“Things can really get dull. Dull as dishwater,” Betsy agreed wholeheartedly. “Have you talked to your mother since you’ve been here?”