She had seen a can of Folgers on the kitchen shelf that, along with most of the other goods, looked prehistoric.
He glanced around. “Hmm. No real options in the area.”
“What about the hotel?”
“That bad, huh?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
All her attempts at quitting caffeine had been embarrassingly unsuccessful. Nor did she need a headache today of all days. There was too much on tap.
He shrugged. “You’re calling the shots. But I’m down if you wanna try.”
“If we manage to snag some, I’ll buy your next cup,” she offered.
“You’re on.”
They buzzed up the coast full throttle, a few hundred yards offshore. The vessel was an older, twenty-two-foot Boston Whaler with a beefy Yamaha engine, the perfect size and plenty of juice. Minnow preferred the smaller boats because they were easier to get in and out of and nimbler around rocks and surf. Nalu stood at the helm, stance wide, hair tousled in the wind. He didn’t say another word until they approached the Kiawe less than ten minutes later.
“Thar she blows,” he said.
“Can you drop me on the beach?” she asked.
“I’ll get as close as I can, but you’re gonna have to get wet either way.”
Within the crescent-shaped cove two motorboats and a catamaran were moored, plus a sailing canoe anchored in the middle. Minnow stripped to her swimsuit and held a folded, frayed towel in her hand. The bottom of the bay was mostly sand, so he dropped her in waist-deep water and she waded to shore. Just before seven thirty, the beach was empty, but she could see a few guests at tables around the bar area, all heads turned her way. Wrapping the towel around herself, she made her way up to the wooden deck, barefoot and half naked, her favorite way to be.
The Saltwater Bar was the polar opposite of Hale Niuhi. Sleek, freshly oiled teak furniture, leather-bound menus, and bursts of gardenias on every table. Shiny silverware, cloth napkins. An older couple wearing straw hats and loose linen clothing. Minnow noticed a long table at the far end covered in bowls of fruit, muffins and pastries. Next to those were pitchers of juice, all backed by a row of pineapples. Her mouth puckered.
“Can I help you?”
Minnow jumped and her hand flew to her chest. “Oh gosh, you scared me. Yes, I’m looking for coffee.”
The pretty young woman did not smile. “Are you a guest of the resort?” Though from the cold tone in her voice, it was obvious she already knew the answer.
“No, but I’m staying next door.”
“Next door? There is no next door here, ma’am.”
Nothing worse than being calledma’am.
“Just down the way, at Hale Niuhi,” Minnow said. The woman looked at her blankly, so she added. “At the Kaupiko property.”
For anything else Minnow would have retreated back to the beach and moved on, not wanting to hassle or draw attention to herself. But not coffee.
“I was told by Mr. Kaupiko that he has—”
An older gentleman wearing a shirt in the same green print suddenly appeared behind the bar. “George, can you please show this woman back to her boat?” the woman asked.
George smiled and Minnow stepped over to the bar. “Good morning, George. I’m staying at Woody Kaupiko’s, and he told me he has a running tab here. All I need is two cups of coffee and I’ll be on my way. Please.”
His smile widened. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I did say so.”
Minnow turned, but the woman had already left them.
“No worries, Lina is new and Woody nevah been here long time. So what brings a prettywahinelike you to Hale Niuhi?”
