Too Hot Four Hula: 4 (The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

hotel.”
    “I’m sure your neighbor could tell you. Isn’t he working over there right now?”
    “Nat? Yeah. Working on his new show. They’re filming eleven episodes. Said he’s slammed with work.”
    “Good. Then he’ll be too busy to see you.”
    “Are you jealous, Detective?”
    He took a step closer. “No need. Maybe Nat Clark can write television scripts, but can he fire dance?”
    Em tried to picture their part-time next door neighbor, the successful prime time television writer, fire dancing in his Tommy Bahama shorts and tortoise shell glasses. He was smart, good looking, and interested in her, but he didn’t hold a candle to Roland’s flaming sword.
    “When are you coming back?” Roland asked.
    “Next Monday. Early flight.”
    “Long time.”
    “Six nights.”
    Without warning he leaned close enough to kiss her. Em held her breath. Her toes curled into the cool sand. The kiss was short but sweet.
    “Stay out of trouble,” he said as they walked back toward the lawn. “Don’t let those women drive you crazy.”
    “I plan to book a massage at the hotel spa. That should help.”
    “If you’re lucky the place has an in-house shrink.”
    5
    LIHUE AIRPORT WAS a far cry from LAX or even Honolulu. The Hawaiian Air check-in desks were located in the long open air lobby that stretched from one end of the three-block structure to the other. Em had printed out their boarding passes last night, but since Louie had bags to check, they had to line up for a ticket agent rather than go straight to security.
    “Go with the flow” had been her mantra since they left the house before dawn to catch the eight a.m. flight. She didn’t like the notion that she was a control freak, but she was having a hard time squelching the urge to organize her eccentric traveling companions.
    Louie had filled an assortment of 1950s luggage covered in decals from various exotic ports of call that he’d seen before he married and settled down on Kauai. He’d barely been able to close the largest suitcase after carefully wrapping and depositing his favorite cocktail shakers, drink umbrellas, swizzle sticks, and a couple of his favorite tiki mugs inside. The clasp looked perilously close to snapping.
    Dressed in a crimson aloha shirt covered with images of papayas, pineapples, and bananas, he looked like an oversized fruit bowl.
    They were surrounded by a gaggle of women in matching “Yes, we are THE Hula Maidens” T-shirts and traditional purple pau hula skirts. With four yards of fabric gathered around their waists they looked like a school of beached puffer fish. Fake silk flower arrangements were pinned in above their left ears. The cement floor around them was covered with rolling bags, cardboard boxes, oversized straw purses, and even a one-hundred-and-fifty quart cooler closed with duct tape.
    Nearby TSA agents in powder blue uniform shirts covered in official embroidered patches and badges grimly waited for the onslaught to begin beside the luggage x-ray conveyor belt.
    The queue inched closer to the Hawaiian Air check-in counter. Em rolled her single carry-on beside her. Everything she needed for the four-night, five-day trip was inside. Her attention drifted to her uncle’s suitcases again, and her “go with the flow” drifted away on the trade wind breeze.
    “Uncle Louie, did you ever take your Booze Bible into the business center to get it copied?”
    Louie’s Booze Bible was a handwritten ring binder containing every cocktail recipe and accompanying legend he’d written since before he had opened the Goddess.
    He patted the battered leather briefcase hanging from an over-the-shoulder strap.
    “I’ve got it. Don’t worry. I’m not letting this briefcase out of my sight.”
    “But . . .”
    He frowned behind his aviator sunglasses. “I’m worried about leaving Letterman.”
    “He and Sophie looked perfectly happy when we drove off.”
    “He was squawking his head off. He’s not used to being fed