“Oh yeah, really popular. Especially with Savannah. You should have seen the way she looked at him when he startedtalking about his development plans. If looks could kill, we’d have found him floating face-down a lot sooner than we did.”
Ruby pauses in her systematic destruction of the pupus, a piece of pineapple frozen halfway to her mouth. “Savannah seems so sweet, though. Like someone’s favorite grandmother who bakes cookies and knows everyone’s business.”
“Sweet as poi,” Dane agrees, and there’s something knowing in his tone. “Until you threaten something she cares about. That woman knows where everybodyis buried on this island—metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean, Savannah Cross has been here forever, and she keeps track of everyone and everything. She knows who’s cheating on their taxes, who’s cheating on their spouse, who’s got skeletons in their closet. Information is power, and that woman is Fort Knox with a flower in her hair.”
The sun is getting lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink in arrangements that I bet are new every single night. Other passengers are gathering at the bow for photos, leaving us with relative privacy at the stern.
“What about May?” Ruby asks, somehow managing to make eating a piece of pineapple look seductive. The woman is a master. “That spiritual wellness girl? She seemed upset about something that night.”
“May Leilani,” Dane snorts. “If that’s even her real name. Which it’s not, by the way.”
“Really?” I try to sound surprised rather than like someone who’s been conducting amateur investigations and has already struck gold in the fake moniker department.
“Really. I heard a rumor that her real name is JenniferSomething-or-other from Orange County. A hit-and-run incident a few years back, killed a cyclist, fled to Hawaii with a stolen identity. Built her whole spiritual wellness empire on someone else’s Social Security Number and a lot of Instagram filters.”
“How do you know all this?” Lani asks.
“Nolan told me he heard the rumor. The man also did his homework on everyone. He had photos, police reports, the whole nine yards. Said he was going to expose her unless she backed off from trying to set up her retreat center here.”
Ruby leans closer to Dane, her coconut bra performing engineering miracles. “That’s terrible! The girl must have been desperate.”
“Desperate enough to do something stupid,” Dane agrees, and there’s something in his voice that makes me pay closer attention. “And Nolan wasn’t exactly subtle about his threats. The guy had all the sensitivity of a bulldozer with anger management issues.”
A pod of dolphins chooses this moment to surface near the boat, and everyone rushes to the rail with cameras and excited squealing. In the chaos, Ruby somehow manages to position herself so that Dane has to steady her against the boat’s motion, her hand landing on his chest for maximum flirtation.
“Oh my,” she gasps. “These waves are soforceful.”
“They can be,” Dane agrees, his voice slightly strangled like he’s not sure if he’s being seduced or hunted.
“Tell me more about Nolan,” she purrs. “You said you knew him personally?”
“Unfortunately. Nolan hired me to run some tours for his clients—investors, potential partners, people he was trying to impress with the island’s development potential. Paid well, I’llgive him that, but he was always looking over my shoulder, questioning my methods, suggesting ‘improvements’ to my business model.”
“What kind of improvements?” I ask.
“The kind that would have put me out of business. He wanted me to get proper licenses, follow all the safety regulations, and stop charging for exclusive experiences that might not technically exist.” Dane’s laugh has an edge to it. “Nolan had no appreciation for entrepreneurial creativity.”
“Entrepreneurial creativity,” Lani repeats flatly.
Dane’s shoulders sag for a moment. “Look, tourism is competitive here. You’ve got to find ways to stand out, give people experiences they can’t get anywhere else. Sometimes that means being a little flexible with the official rules.”
The boat rounds another point, and we’re treated to a view of a hidden beach nestled between towering cliffs, accessible only by water. The sand is so white it hurts to look at, and a waterfall cascades into a pool that looks like something from a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after and no one gets murdered. At least not on this side of the island.
“There’s Secret Beach,” Dane announces to the group with pride as if he just revealed a magic trick. “One of my exclusive stops. Can’t get here by land—only by boat or helicopter or if you’re very brave and slightly unhinged.”
“Is this one of those experiences that might not technically exist?” I ask quietly because I’m starting to see a pattern here.
Dane’s smile becomes slightly forced, like he’s been caught at something. “This one is real. It’s the ones involving private caves and hidden lagoons that require more imagination and creative marketing.”
Ruby claps her hands together with delight, her coconut shells somehow staying in place despite all laws of physics. “Dane, you’re so clever! I love a man who thinks outside the box and also possibly outside the law.”
And I’m pretty sure she means it.
“Yeah, well, Nolan didn’t see it that way. He said I was defrauding tourists, taking money under false pretenses. Threatened to report me to the state tourism board, the Coast Guard, probably the FBI for all I know.”
