“Well,” Lani says, staring at our carbonized dreams. “I’m starting to think this place is jinxed.”
Both Lani and Ruby turn to look at me with expressions that clearly say they’ve just connected some very unfortunate dots, like detectives in a murder mystery who’ve just figured out the killer was in the room the whole time. And I’m suddenly not a fan of locked room mysteries.
I shrug. “Hey, I didn’t get my nickname for my sparkling personality.”
The oven chooses this moment to make a sound like it’s given up on life, followed by a small explosion that sends a shower of sparks across the kitchen floor like the world’s least festive fireworks display. Somewhere in the distance, a roostercrows what sounds suspiciously like laughter, and I swear that every bird on the island has it out for me.
A hiss cuts through the kitchen like an angry snake, followed by a sound that can only be described as the heavens opening up, but inside and with worse timing.
The sprinkler system kicks in.
It starts to rain.
Inside.
Water explodes from the ceiling with the enthusiasm of a personal trainer who’s discovered cocaine, drenching everything in a three-foot radius. Which, unfortunately, includes us.
“On the bright side,” I shout over the sound of the indoor shower, “at least we know the sprinkler system works!”
Ruby stands there, hair plastered to her head, mascara running down her face like she’s auditioning for a horror movie. “I HATE EVERYTHING!”
Lani just closes her eyes and accepts her fate, water streaming off her nose like a particularly depressed garden fountain.
The charred cinnamon rolls sit on the counter, now wet charcoal, smoking slightly less but looking considerably more pathetic as water pools around them like tears.
And somewhere in the distance, that darn rooster crows again.
Ruby looks at the charred remains of our cinnamon rolls, then at me, then back at the rolls. “Jinx, honey, I’m starting to think your nickname might be less cute and more of a warning label.”
I offer her a wry smile. “You’re just figuring that out now?”
“I’m a slow learner,” she says. “It’s part of my charm.”
The kitchen fills with the sound of the smoke alarm pitching a fit, not to mention the water from the ceiling, and I can’t help but think that if someone wanted to destroy this resort from the inside, they may have already achieved their goals.
But at least we still have the ice cream machine.
A loud THUNK echoes through the kitchen as the door to our precious ice cream machine decides this is the perfect moment to give up on life entirely and crashes to the floor with the finality of a dying dream.
I close my eyes and count to ten. Then twenty. Then I start wondering if there’s a support group for people whose very presence causes mechanical failures.
“Well,” Lani says after a moment that stretches longer than my last marriage, “at least we still have... um...”
“Don’t,” I say, eyes still closed. “Don’t say we still have anything. The universe is listening, and it thinks I’m hilarious. And for Pete’s sake, don’t mention the hot detective. The last thing we need is important parts falling off that body.”
That is, before I can properly utilize them.
CHAPTER 16
Just a few days into my Hawaiian adventure, and I’m already conducting informal interviews with murder suspects, which either makes me dedicated or demonstrates a spectacular lack of survival instincts that my mother would definitely have thoughts about.
The next morning finds us tracking down Dane Huntington at the resort, which turns out to be easier than expected since he’s holding court by the less-green pool, regaling a handful of tourists with what appears to be a highly embellished tale about swimming with dolphins.
His beachy perfection is on full display—board shorts, tank top that showcases his bronzed tan, and that thousand-watt smile that could power half the island.
Finding Dane Huntington at the resort proves easier than expected, mainly because his voice carries across the property like a tropical bird with opinions about customer service.
“Ladies!” he calls out as we approach, his voice carryingenough enthusiasm to convince us he’s genuinely happy to see us. “Just the people I wanted to talk to!”
