The Flaming Luau of Death Read Online Free

freshly brewed coffee. A silver pitcher of freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. A porcelain pot of freshly brewed tea.
    But as Wes and I moved over to the waffle irons, nownicely preheated, I knew it was time to tell him Holly’s startling prom-night story, and fast. Because as soon as the four cups of mini chocolate chips were added to the coffee-rich batter, and as soon as a dozen sweet waffles began steaming on the heart-shaped irons, and as soon as Holly’s bridesmaids settled down from their estrogen high over the news we were all being hijacked away to a world-class luxury spa, flown to the Kona-Kohala coast on the Big Island of Hawaii for two luxurious days of girl-power bonding, prewedding gossip, aromatherapy, and upper-lip waxing, I expected our lives would no longer be the same. And we really needed to figure out what to do about Holly’s other husband.

Aloha
    A sweet little breeze, soft with moisture, puffed against my neck, coiling my naturally curly hair into tight corkscrews, gently lifting the edge of Wesley’s pale blue shirt. Wes and I stood together at the door to our room at the Four Heavens, rolling weekend cases by our sides, happy to feel the caressing Hawaiian breeze play against our sun-warmed skin.
    He inserted a key card into the slot, and a small green light flashed, allowing Wes to turn the knob and open our door. This simple drama was also being played out all along the path, down at the three doors to our left. Our party had been assigned to four adjacent guest rooms located on the lower floor of a secluded two-story bungalow, a seashell’s throw from the shoreline of the Kona-Kohala coast. After our champagne and waffle breakfast in Los Angeles, and our champagne and spinach salad flight over the Pacific, and our champagne and chilled guava juice greeting as we checked into this fabulous resort on the Big Island, we were relaxed and happy, if not exactly sober.
    The eight of us, freshly festooned with bright and fragrant plumeria-flower leis upon our arrival in the hotel lobby, had giggled our way through the resort’slushly landscaped grounds toward the beach, and turned up at our rooms in rather ragged jet-lagged roommate pairs.
    “Schnitzel!” Holly semi-cursed.
    Wes caught my eye and gave a nod to Holly, down at the far end of our building. She and her roommate, Liz Mooney, were simply not in a state where they could accurately insert their key card into such a tiny slot, and we could faintly hear Holly’s ladylike oaths carried on the ocean-scented breeze.
    Wes and I entered our room, and I let out my own ladylike whoop. This was the newest resort in the super-deluxe Four Heavens family. The gold standard. The Rolls-Royce of hotels. Quiet luxury. The room was massive, with understated Polynesian-style furnishings, two bambooposter beds, and a huge plasma screen TV with DVD player. Wes and I did our drill, our hotel recon mission. He checked the bathroom; I went to the sliding doors.
    “Amazing,” came Wesley’s voice. “Soaking tub. And there’s a door to a private outdoor garden with a lava rock shower.” He poked his head back into the main room. “Did you hear that? An outdoor shower!”
    I was just pulling back the heavy curtains and opening the sliding door. “Look, Wes. A furnished lanai.” There were two heavy chaise longues outside, waiting for us with thick pads covered in the finest terry cloth. Only a few paces beyond our lanai was the dip of white sand and then the bright blue ocean, sparkling in the hazy afternoon glow.
    Wes pulled a robe out of the closet. “Oh, look! They have our favorite kind.”
    Just as I was coming over to join him to check it all out, we heard heavy knocking and Holly’s voice, loud, just on the other side of our door.
    “Maddie! Wesley! Oh my God, you guys. Open up. Open up!”
    “What is it?” Wes yelled back, both of us at the door in an instant, pulling it open in a rush. “What’s the matter?”
    Holly looked physically ill.