4 Maui Macadamia Madness

Chapter One

The plane dropped fifty feet. A woman screamed.

I closed my eyes and
gripped Ethan’s arm like a pit bull to a steak. I—Summer Meadows, uh, Banning, having
been married less than twelve hours, I tended to forget my new last name—did
not like to fly. Not one iota. “Whose idea was it to fly to Maui?”

Ethan laughed and
pulled me as close as the armrest between us would allow.
“Yours.
I wanted to cruise, but you said you didn’t want to leave Aunt Eunice with the
store for too long.”

“You should have
stopped me. I was delusional.” I buried my face in his shirt front.
“Out of my mind with marital bliss.”
My stomach leaped as
the plane jumped again. Please, don’t let me lose my dinner. Why couldn’t the
airline have a direct flight to Maui instead of their having to fly a prop
plane from the main island to their destination?

Ethan rubbed my
head. “Did you manage to sleep? I’d hate for you to arrive in Maui with gritty
eyes.”

“A
little.
You?”
I peeked up at him, wanting to run my fingers through
his mussed hair.
One night as his wife, and I loved him even
more than before.

“Like a baby.”

I’d hardly slept a
wink. Something about there being nothing but air between me and the ocean kept
me awake and white knuckled. Not to mention the man behind us who snored like a
bulldog with sinus problems. “I’ll sleep once we reach the Bed and Breakfast in
Kihei
.” I grinned.
“But hopefully
not too much.”

Ethan bent and gave
me one of his heart-stopping, lip-searing kisses. Normally, people might think
getting married on April
Fool’s
Day a bad omen, but
not me. I thought it funny and unique. Just like me and my new husband.
Doing things out of the ordinary kept life interesting.

I loosened my grip
on his arm and grabbed the arm rests as the plane began its descent. Fun with
the most handsome man on God’s green earth, no dead bodies or internet scams,
no one shooting at me, all pointed to the most perfect ten days a woman could
hope to have.

The plane landed
smoothly. Passengers stood and reached for their carry-on bags before the
fasten seatbelt light blinked off. I stepped aside and let Ethan handle ours
while I tried to peer around people and out the windows. From what I could see,
the airport looked like any other one I had been in.
A squat
white building on a tarmac.
I sighed and took my makeup bag. Ethan
placed his free hand on the curve of my lower back, sending delicious tremors
up my spine, and steered me off the plane.

We made our way to
baggage claim, waited until our suitcases arrived, then headed outside to the
van that would take us to
Wahine’s
Bed and Breakfast.
Lovely young women, arms loaded with leis, welcomed us with “Aloha.” The
fragrant scent of flowers and ocean filled the air. I breathed deep, certain I
was as close to heaven as a woman could get and still be on earth.

Excitement rose like
champagne bubbles and colored the day rosy. I fairly skipped to the transport
van and showed the driver our registration papers while Ethan lugged the bags.
Strong as he was, he groaned under the weight. I tended to over pack, as
evidenced by the extra fees for the luggage weight and extra bags. But, a girl
had to be prepared for anything.

Three other couples
joined us on the van ride, two obviously married, and one that ignored each
other. Either they were a couple angry with each other or strangers. Maybe the
beauty and romance of Maui would soothe whatever ailed them.

As the driver moved
to close the door, another man ran up, shouting for us to wait. The driver
scowled and motioned for the man to sit in the front passenger seat. Once
everyone and their bags were secure, he slid behind the wheel.

“This is it.” I
glanced at Ethan. “We’re really here.
On our honeymoon.
On Maui.”

He grinned back and
squeezed my hand. “Yes, we are.”

“
Oooh
, honeymooners.”
A plump woman sitting in front of us beamed over the back of the seat.
Her
greying
brown hair was clipped back in flower
barrettes and the colors on her tent-of-a-housedress would blind a man with no
eyes. “I’m Sharon
Aldrich,
this is my husband, Ron.
We’re celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. We spent our honeymoon
here, too.” Her husband, a round, balding man, nodded and unfolded a newspaper.
Sharon tapped the other couple. “Since we’re all going to be spending the next
few days together, we should get acquainted.”

The other couple
looked to be in their mid-twenties. “We’re Bruce and Maryann Franklin,” the
young man said.
“On our honeymoon.”
He landed a loud
smack on his wife’s lips. She reddened and cupped his face. They rubbed noses
like a couple of Eskimos.

Sharon turned to the
last two. “And you two are?”

“Not married and
strangers.” The woman pulled a lipstick and compact from her purse. She
reminded me of Ethan’s ex-girlfriend, Terry Lee.
Dark hair,
shapely figure, legs that went on forever.
I disliked her on the spot.
“I’m Susan Wood, here on vacation.”

“I’m David Hatcher.
Business.”
He was good looking in a California surfer
kind-of-way with longish sun-bleached brown hair and brown eyes. His gaze
flicked over Susan’s shoulder and landed, for a moment, on the back of the
front passenger’s head.

“And you, sir?”
Sharon leaned forward, trying to gain the attention of the man in front.

“Here on business.”
He continued to stare out the window. A gold Rolex watch winked from his left
wrist.

“Do you know each
other?” Sharon motioned between the man and David. When David shook his head
and the other man didn’t reply, she shrugged and turned back to Ethan and me.
“The other honeymooners?”

“Summer
and Ethan Banning.”
I
reached out my hand to shake hers.
“From Arkansas.”

“Well, well,” Susan
simpered. “So am I. I thought you looked familiar. You’re the wannabe sleuth
from Mountain Springs. I read about you in the Arkansas River News.”

“Nothing
wannabe about it.”
I
lifted my chin. “I solved three crimes.”
And almost died
solving each one of them.

Ethan placed a
restraining hand on my leg and leaned close. “We’re on our honeymoon,
Tinkerbell
. No
crime talk
.”

I got the warm
fuzzies
at the nickname he used to tease me with because of
my petite size. What a turnaround from when I used to take offense. I felt the
love in his words. I patted his leg. “I know.” I transferred my attention to
the lush greenery passing outside the window.

Wahine’s
Bed and Breakfast sat on a private beach,
its pristine white siding a brilliant contrast to the azure sky. Off to the
sides sat quaint huts with thatched roofs and cascading blossoms dripping from
the eaves. Opposite the hotel, the beach sparkled like diamonds, inviting a
person to indulge in an oceanic dip. I couldn’t wait to sink my toes into the
wet sand at the water’s edge.

“Aloha!” A
brown-skinned couple, him in a tropical shirt and her in a purple muumuu, held
their arms wide in welcome. “Your home awaits you,” the man said. “I am Larry
Wahine
, and this is my princess-of-a-bride, Anna.”

How sweet of him to
call his wife his princess. I glanced up at Ethan, who grinned and planted a
kiss on my nose.

“You’ve been my
princess from the moment I first laid eyes on you when you were a skinny,
freckle-faced, twelve-year-old.”

He always knew
exactly what to say to heat up the water.

“We have lots of fun
planned,” Mr.
Wahine
explained.
“From
snorkeling to luaus, parasailing to whale watching.
We hope that all of
you will join in the group activities, but if not,” his smile never faded. “We
will guide you where you want to go.
Now, to show you to your
rooms.
 
Come, follow me.”

“I hope you paid
attention to my reservation requests,” Mr. Businessman said. “I requested a
cottage set apart from the others.”

“Yes, Mr. Jamison,
we’ve set you aside as far as possible.” I wasn’t sure, but I would have sworn
Mr.
Wahine
actually rolled his eyes.

“This
way, Mr. and Mrs. Banning.”
Mrs.
Wahine
headed left, motioning for the other
honeymooners to follow us. “Our honeymoon cottages are this way. It allows for
a little more privacy.” She winked and opened the door to our suite. “We do
rent a few rooms in the main house, but folks tend to enjoy it out here more.”

Wicker furniture and
tropical fabrics welcomed us. A large basket of fruit with a platter of cheese
and bread beside it sat on a coffee table. Although this was our second night
as husband and wife, my face burned at sight of the king-sized bed draped with
mosquito netting.

Ethan sat our bags
beside the bed then moved to open the French doors. “Look at this view,
Summer
.”

I slipped under his
arm and took in the scene in front of me. Waves caressed the beach, palm trees
swayed, and the last of the day’s wind surfers filled the ocean with bright
colors.
“Paradise.”

He squeezed me. “Do
you want to eat in tonight, or join the others?”

“I’d like to eat
right there from the fruit basket.” I motioned at the small bistro table on our
deck. “Do you think the
Wahine’s
will mind?”

“I’m sure they
expect it from newlyweds.”

“Most
likely.”

“Sit while I get the
basket.” He moved inside. “There’s a bottle of sparkling cider and one of grape
juice. Which do you want?”

“The
cider, please.”
I sat in
a wicker chair and the
fuschia
cushions let out a
whoosh
. I set my feet on the small
footstool in front of me. I could sit there every night and watch the sun go
down past the water.
Especially if Ethan sat beside me.
He placed the basket and tray on a wrought iron patio table,
then
went back inside for our drinks, leaving me to cut the bread with the knife
provided.

“Look, Ethan, a box
of chocolate-covered macadamia’s.” I lifted a white box wrapped with a sunshine
yellow ribbon from the basket. I had started serving them in my store, but the
nuts had a tendency to spoil so quickly, I didn’t stock them as often as I
would like. This was a rare treat. I opened the box, picked out a couple of
pieces, and settled back to enjoy the view.