Bertha’s expression suggests she’s witnessing the decline of Western civilization in real time. That’s because she is. “I hardly think—” she begins.
“The lighting is absolutely perfect right now,” Candy continues, already positioning her glowing instrument of terror. “Sphynx, could you stand over here? Bertha, get right beside her! This is going to be such a heartwarming shot!”
“I’d rather not—” I start. “I actually don’t qualify for a generational?—”
“Oh, come on!” Candy interrupts with a tidal wave of positivity. “It’s all about celebrating family bonds and new beginnings. My followers love emotional content!”
Alana appears at Candy’s shoulder. “I think we should focus on content that centers around your narrative. Including the ex-wife might send confusing messaging about relationship dynamics.”
I mouth a silentthank youto the woman even though she doesn’t bother to look my way.
The trade winds have picked up, making the tiki torch flames dance and causing Halea’s hair to flow as if she’s in a slow-motion music video. She’s somehow positioned herself so that Detective Koa is directly in her line of sight—and the sight of her cleavage—while she adjusts her dress in ways that seem entirely unnecessary. If her boobs fall out ofthat glorified scarf she’s wearing, this picture is going to be fit for another type of content entirely. Not that she was in the shot, but I have a feeling with Candy this will be inevitable.
“I think everyone needs to take a breath,” Lani announces, her practical voice cutting through the chaos. “And maybe some iced tea. It’s too hot for this much drama.”
“Drama?” Alana’s tone could slice glass. “I’m simply ensuring professional standards for a luxury event. Some of us understand that successful content creation requires strategic thinking.”
“Some of us understand that we’re in Hawaii,” Ruby replies, “not a sound stage in Los Angeles.”
“Ohio,” Candy corrects. “That’s the nice thing about the internet. You can be a content queen from your mattress.”
For a second, I envy her. Calling herself a queen and admitting your mattress is your throne is honestly life goals stuff for me.
Pineapple, the cute yellow kitty, chooses this moment to yawn and relocate to a shadier spot, as tired of human nonsense as the rest of us should be. And yet Spam purrs from his perch, relishing the drama at hand. Something tells me this is going to be the best week of his orange life.
And the worst week of mine.
Alana looks my way. “We’ll need fewer palm trees. We can’t risk a palm frond falling in our footage.” She takes a look around at the resort with its tiki this, and rattan that, and the totem pole that’s sticking its tongue out at her, andshe scowls. “Please tone down the cultural elements, would you?”
“The cultural elements aren’t negotiable,” I find myself saying. “This is Hawaii. The resort respects that.”
Alana’s smile has all the warmth of a January morning in Alaska. “How quaint. I’m sure we can find ways to honor your questionable commitment to authenticity while creating content that appeals to a broader, more sophisticated audience.”
The way she says sophisticated makes it sound like a weapon.
Koa clears his throat. “I think I’ll conduct that security check and get out of your way. Let me know if you need anything, Jinx.”
“Jinx?” Erwin huffs as he turns my way. “On a first-name basis with the detective so soon?”
Koa raises a brow my way, and his eyes enlarge just enough to let me know he’s questioning my past, and wondering how many bodies I’ve stumbled upon prior to our homicidal meet and greet.
“Actually,” Halea purrs, latching onto Koa’s arm, “I’d love to discuss island safety protocols. Perhaps over dinner? I’m very interested in how you handle handcuffs.”
He fights back either a smile or a grimace. “I’m not sure we’ll have time. Have a good evening.” He nods to our small, yet oddball group.
He heads toward the beach, and Halea watches him gowith an appreciation usually reserved for fine art or expensive wine. She would so be right on both accounts.
“Wow, is he gorgeous,” she murmurs. “I do love a man in uniform. Even when he’s not wearing one. And heaven knows I’d much rather see him without a stitch of anything on.”
A hostile growl rips from my throat, and both Lani and Ruby hold me back.
A rooster crows, and an entire row of chickens strut by, demanding front row seats to the bloodbath that will inevitably ensue.
“Is everyone ready to see their accommodations?” I ask, mostly because if I don’t redirect these lunatics, somebody is going to end up in the koi pond, and it might be me.
“Absolutely!” Candy raises her ring light again. “I want to document the entire Hawaiian resort experience! This is going to be such an amazing week of content!”
Bertha picks up her suitcase-sized purse and follows the group toward the main building. As she passes me, she leans in close enough for me to smell her talcum powder and passive aggression.
