Burned

Regan will be all over this, Kit thought.

The phone on the wall rang. That’s another thing I’d like to have at home, Kit thought. A phone in the bathroom. She sighed and answered.

“Kit?”

“Yes.” Kit’s heart quickened at the sound of the masculine voice. Was it who she thought it was?

“It’s Steve.”

Kit’s eyes brightened. How could they not? Steve Yardley was about as eligible as a guy could get. A handsome thirty-five-year-old retiree from Wall Street who moved to Hawaii when he got sick of the urban rat race. He wasn’t looking for a second career like so many others who made the move. He thought he might eventually do some consulting, but he had plenty of money and was enjoying this chilling-out period in his life. He’d only been in Hawaii six months. Long enough, though, to buy a house in an exclusive development in the hills east of Waikiki with a stu

“I’m sitting here enjoying my view of Diamond Head from my lanai, and I thought you would make it even better.”

I could faint, Kit thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was glad to see that the little bit of color she’d allowed herself to acquire looked good. She also silently thanked God for the snowstorm that was crippling the eastern United States. “You do, do you?” she said and immediately wished she’d thought of a wittier response.

“Yes, I do. I’m so glad you had to stay this weekend. Why were you headed back so soon anyway?”

“It’s my grandmother’s eighty-fifth birthday. We were going to have a big party on Saturday,” Kit answered, thinking that he had already asked her this question last night when they’d met at one of the hotel bars. A lot of people who couldn’t fly out had crowded in, and there was a real party atmosphere, with drinks flowing freely.

“My grandmother is eighty-five, too,” Steve said incredulously. “It sounds as if we have a lot in common.”

Is this guy for real? Kit wondered.

“And she’s dying for me to settle down,” he added with a laugh.

“That we definitely have in common,” Kit added with a wry note in her voice. “And now my best friend is getting married, which is really getting Gra

“Really?”

“No, Reilly.”

“What?”

Kit laughed. “Her name is Regan Reilly. She’s a private investigator in Los Angeles. She’s certainly going to be interested in what’s going on here at the Waikiki Waters. Did you hear that the woman who was taking pictures in the bar last night drowned in front of the hotel and was wearing a stolen lei? Regan will be all over that. She can’t help herself when it comes to investigations.”

“I just saw it on the news.” Steve coughed. “Excuse me.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes. Anyway, would you and your friend Regan Reilly like to come over for a sunset drink? I’ll come and fetch the fetching lasses, and later I’ll take you both to di

Kit paused. For the briefest of moments. She and Regan were pla

“I’ll be there,” he answered and hung up the phone.

5

W ill Brown, the manager of the Waikiki Waters, was in a sweat. His job was to keep the resort ru

“I found mold growing under the bed. It looked like my kid’s science experiment,” one woman had charged. “I think I should get a discount.”

What was she doing under the bed? Will wondered.

“I ordered a soft-boiled egg two days in a row. Both times my egg came out hard-boiled,” another had cried. “I go on vacation to enjoy myself. I hate the smell of hard-boiled eggs! I just can’t win.”

Will was thirty-five and had been raised in a small town in the Midwest. When he was in kindergarten, his parents took a trip to Hawaii. For all the talk and pla

He never, ever wanted to leave.

But now his job could be in jeopardy. He had pushed for the renovation, which was expensive and could take years to recoup. He had brought in Dorinda Dawes, and she turned out to be a troublemaker. And then she drowned at the hotel. Not very good for PR. He had to make things better. But how?

One thing that had to go well was the “Be a Princess” Ball on Saturday night. The gala event would bring a lot of attention to the hotel, and it had to be the right kind. It was the hotel’s first big black-tie affair since the renovation. Five hundred people were expected, and they’d gone all out with the food, flowers, and decorations. Convincing the Seashell Museum to auction the royal lei was a real coup. If the event bombed, the buck stopped on Will’s desk.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A decent-looking guy, he had reddish hair that had been thi

The coffee cup on his desk was half full. He took a sip and swallowed hard. It was cold. He’d been drinking it all day. With all the guests calling and the news reporters and the police, he hadn’t eaten a thing. Everyone was asking about the stolen royal lei around Dorinda’s neck that had once belonged to the last queen of Hawaii. Nervously he kept drinking the now bitter brew-which only made things worse.

Will was relieved that the police ruled the drowning an accident, but he didn’t believe it. Dorinda Dawes had gotten under too many people’s skin. But what could he do? Was it better to leave well enough alone and hope the whole incident blew over quickly?

He couldn’t do that. Something was going on at the hotel. There had been too many problems lately. Misplaced luggage. Purses gone missing. Toilets overflowing, not due to the call of nature. Guests getting sick after eating but not enough of them to cause too much of a stir. And now this: the death of Dorinda. Will felt a knot in his stomach.

He wanted to get to the bottom of things, but he didn’t quite know how. The hotel hired consultants to call in and make reservations and then rate the clerks on their efficiency and friendliness. The consulting company also sent people in to act as guests and rate the overall service. The resort had a security staff, but Will felt he needed to find a professional investigator who could snoop around without everyone knowing and find out the dirt. Find out the dirt on everyone except him. Will grabbed the coffee cup and drained it.