Chapter 2

The lack of motion must have been what woke me. As I slid the shade up, the bright sun hit the black lenses of the sunglasses I’d refused to remove since leaving my house in Bel Air.

The moment my ass had hit the supple leather seat, I had buckled up, reclined, and was out cold minutes later. In essence, I’d just paid a fortune for a good nap. I hadn’t slept that well in years; the reason I finally had was most likely due to leaving Hollywood behind while flying toward heaven.

The flight took just over five hours from LA to Lanai, Hawaii. If not for the tiny issue of needing to be inconspicuous, I would have flown commercial and not on a private chartered jet. But I didn’t have that luxury. Choosing a remote location on U.S. soil that was fairly easy to access was essential for this to work. With enough money, anyone could disappear.

Once the plane was cleared to land, the pilot’s voice announced over the intercom that they’d be opening the cabin doors. It took only a few minutes before the pilot and his wife appeared, smiling while she held out an orchid lei.

“Aloha! This is your official welcome to paradise, Mr. White. We hope you enjoy your time here.” She draped it over my head and stepped aside, allowing me to stand.

“Thank you.” I nodded with a smile.

Lance White, my alias for the vanishing act I’d just pulled—my most important role to date.

I never used the same pseudonym twice. My current one was courtesy of the peanut butter crackers I loved to snack on, combined with the color of the boxer briefs I wore the day I planned this trip from start to finish.

One couldn’t just pick up and disappear. Lots of planning was required, from scouting the perfect destination to considering what would be needed to morph from Landon Price, Hollywood star, into Lance White, accountant from New Jersey.

Moving into the aisle, I stretched my back before retrieving my duffel bag from the overhead compartment. One bag contained everything I needed to survive for the next twelve or so weeks. Money, clothes, fake identification, a few murder mysteries, and my laptop were all I had taken from my home.

“Do you have any other luggage, or is this a short trip?”

“Just staying a few days,” I lied.

“Please be sure to contact us when you’re ready to continue your travel plans,” the captain said. When I’d arranged this flight, they tried to have me commit to a return trip, explaining they were booked solid but would squeeze me in. No doubt, the fact that I had paid in cash without so much as questioning the cost had a lot to do with them wanting my future business.

“Will do, Captain. Thanks again.”

The moment I stepped out into the hot, dry heat of Hawaii I knew I’d love it there. From where I stood at the top of the jet’s stairs, I could feel the stress leaving my body. Except for the tiny landing strip, a modern building that looked more like a five-star resort than an airport terminal, and palm trees everywhere, there was nothing else for as far as the eye could see. No concrete fortresses holding sleazy agents who could schmooze better than a prostitute. No smog. No plastic people constantly running, only stopping long enough for a fucking Starbucks.

With each deep breath I took, my stress miraculously floated away into oblivion. Before my flip-flops hit the blacktop, an airport employee appeared in a golf cart to whisk me away to the terminal.

The charter had secured my arrival prior to takeoff. After supplying my real identification to security, I requested that my presence on the island remain confidential, and thankfully the officials assured me that wouldn’t be a problem.

Minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a cab on my way to my slice of paradise.

My mind wandered during the twenty-minute drive to Hulopoe Bay. I’d never had a responsibility-free existence. School led to more school, more school led to working round the clock for the past nine years. I wasn’t sure I’d know how to do nothing.

When the cab pulled up to a small yellow building, a rotund Hawaiian man in bare feet approached with a smile and yet another lei hanging off his short arm. Even the dark tint of my Ray-Bans did little to mute the floral atrocity he wore as a shirt, paired with the brightest plaid shorts I’d ever seen.

“Mr. Lance White?”

“That’s me.”

“Aloha!” With a huge grin, he extended his short arm to offer the lei.

Knowing that the overwhelming floral scent would immediately give me a headache, I shook my head with a smile. “Thanks, but I’m good with the one I have.”

The man leaned closer, his smile slipping off his animated face. “Mr. Lance, refusing a lei or even removing one that was gifted while in the company of the one who presented it is considered an insult.”

Great.

“My apologies. It’s just that I’m allergic.”

“Oh, I see. We’ll let it slide then.” The conviction in his words would have been better suited if we were discussing world peace rather than a fucking floral lei, but whatever, when in Lanai…

“I appreciate that.”

“Well,” he continued after I rudely interrupted being lei-d by him. “I’m Palu, owner of Hulopoe Haven and mayor of Lanai City. Welcome to our piece of paradise.”

“Thank you, Palu.”

“Do you have any other luggage, sir?”

I pulled the duffel farther up on my shoulder. “No, this is it.”

“Okay, then. Please follow me, Mr. White.”

For each step I took, Palu had to take two. He scurried beside me while trying to breathe normally. I slowed down, feeling pity for the man.

“How long will you be staying on our beautiful beach, sir?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“The weather while you’re here should remain spectacular, as we just came through our rainy period,” he informed in his thick Hawaiian accent.

“Rain wouldn’t hamper my stay, but if the current temperature is what I can expect, I’m good with that.”

Suddenly, he stopped beside me and nodded, only to immediately begin walking again. I had to stifle a laugh at the fact that Palu couldn’t walk and nod at the same time.

“I’ll also give you a tourist information packet to help you become acquainted with Lanai.”

“That’d be great. Thank you.”

I reached the door that read HULOPOE BAY TOWN HALL before he did and waved him through. A noisy air conditioner rattled in the window behind a long reception desk while competing with Don Ho, who crooned from an ancient boom box playing a cassette.

Palu moved around the long counter, opening and banging drawers while looking for something. “I have a new assistant, and she’s been a godsend, but I can’t find anything anymore,” he muttered. “Ah, here they are.”

He stepped closer with an old-fashioned tri-folded map and one single document that had probably been printed by the old Canon copy machine that took up an entire wall behind him.

I felt like I’d stepped through a time portal, reentering somewhere around thirty years ago.

“Do many tourists come through here?” I asked, wondering how the fuck he survived financially.

“No, sir. Unfortunately, tourism is down here in Lanai. Most who visit are interested in the big island. The property you’ll be occupying has been vacant since February, but it’s only June. We hope things will pick up soon.”

My mouth said, “I’m so sorry.”

My mind said, I hope not.

He extended the papers and said, “Here’s everything you need to know about Lanai. Your assistant while here is Kaholo. He can help with anything you’ll need.” Palu pointed to a black rotary phone that sat on a tiny table. “I’m afraid there are no phones in the cabins. So if you need to make a phone call, you’ll have to use this one.”

“Will I have cell service?”

“It’s very unpredictable, but your chances for a signal are better if you move to the northwest corner of the property.”

I folded my lips over my teeth to stifle a laugh.

Undeterred, he continued, “The preset dials on this phone will immediately connect you to our local police, fire, and Kaholo, our property manager. He resides near the tide pools on the east corner of the bay. He does have an answering machine. So if you should call and he doesn’t answer, just leave him a detailed message with what you need.”

The last thing he handed me was a set of keys. “These are for your bungalow and the rental Jeep you requested. Also, your cabin contains all the items you specified during our phone call, including peanut butter crackers.” He stopped to smile before continuing. “The Four Seasons is a mile up the road and contains restaurants and Wi-Fi. Otherwise, follow Hulopoe Drive to 440 and you’ll find our general store, gas station, bank, and luncheonette.”

I pulled a fifty from my wallet and handed it to him. “I appreciate it, Palu.”

“Oh, no, sir.” His bulbous fingers waved back and forth in time with his head. “I am a government official. Please reserve it for Kaholo. He will appreciate it.”

Government official? Again, I had to stifle a laugh imagining him walking around Washington, D.C., in that getup.

“Well, I appreciate your integrity. Thank you.”

“Of course, Mr. White. Enjoy your stay.”

The only human I’d spoken to since arriving two days ago was Kaholo. The dude was a jack-of-all-trades—security guard, handyman, landscaper, and personal assistant. His massive frame, shaved head, and braided beard made him very intimidating…until he spoke. His voice was extremely soft and a complete contradiction to his physical appearance.

Kaholo liked to talk. One couldn’t blame him, with the lack of civilization in this tiny town. The good news was he liked to talk about Hawaii. So busy with filling me in on all the historical facts, he never asked any personal questions, which suited me just fine.

I liked my new temporary home. The only problem I could see about being in Lanai was when it’d come time to leave. My lungs didn’t know what to do with the clean air, my eyes feasted on the sapphire color of the ocean, my ears reveled in the absolute silence except for the gentle crashing of the surf on the most perfect white sand beach I’d ever seen.

Knowing myself, I’d be making a purchase here before I left. Yes, I had my place in Bel Air, and my posh New York City apartment, but Hulopoe Bay had already found its way to being my favorite.

Four bungalows made up the resort of Hulopoe Haven, and they were spread out enough that you could avoid your neighbors without issue. As luck would have it, I was Palu’s only guest at the time.

Because of this, Kaholo had a lot of time on his hands. When he visited on day two he said he was taking his weekly trip to the main island for supplies, and asked if I needed anything. With my requests made, he then informed me he’d return the next day.

I felt like God had taken pity on my need for solitude and had decided to gift me with nothing else since I arrived.

Late-afternoon sunlight cut through the bungalow. I’d spent the last few hours writing, erasing, and rewriting an outline for the book I’d plotted since my brother’s death. I had no expectations of a time frame for its completion. For all I knew it’d take me ten years to tell my story. Being here alone the last two days had opened the door to at least start it.

Over the months since Logan died, it had been nothing less than a miracle that I was able to function or fulfill my obligations.

Older by three minutes, I took the role of big brother seriously. As babies, we were identical in every way. With each month that we aged, the differences between our developments stretched. My parents noticed Logan lagging in motor skills, speech, and cognition. The doctors assured them every child was different. Once we turned one, the doctors finally confirmed that my parents’ concerns were valid.

At fourteen months, Logan was diagnosed with moderate mental retardation. It was determined that the trauma he’d experienced from oxygen deprivation during birth had caused his condition.

My fierce need to protect him through school had become an issue at an early age. I’d take on anyone who so much as stared for a few seconds longer than they should have, or was stupid enough to whisper piteous comments as we walked by.

Just before first grade, my parents decided Logan needed to be in a special educational setting with more individual attention and support. They also felt having him with me day and night wasn’t healthy for my own development. He’d become an extension of me, and when they separated us I cried for days, refusing to go to school without Logan.

The questions that plagued my childhood and teenage years would never be answered. Why was I so lucky in every aspect of life while Logan wasn’t? There had to be a reason he was born that way, and an even bigger reason he had died so young.

I couldn’t change the events of the past, but with the blessings I’d been given I lived enough for the both of us. When I wasn’t working I had vacationed with Logan, taking him with me wherever I went. I donated millions to the school he’d attended. I became his spokesperson through life. He had been pure joy, pure in every way.

Through the tears that came whenever I thought of him, I remembered the last time I saw him, a few weeks before his death. There he’d stood smiling widely and laughing at one of my stupid jokes. My insides twisted over the guilt I felt from failing to protect him.

The yapping of a small dog outside my bungalow brought me back to the present. I opened the door to see a tiny Maltese bouncing around the narrow porch. Upon seeing me, her excitement grew, causing her to come barreling forward until her front paws pushed against my legs.

“Hey, cutie pie. Are you lost?”

I lifted the puff of white fur and laughed when she squirmed in my grip to try and get closer. With my eyes still wet from tears over Logan, I chuckled when she lunged to lick the side of my face.

“No collar? Do you live here, girl?”

Having assumed the dog was a she, I laughed again when her undercarriage revealed the wrong parts. “Whoa, you’re a dude?”

He yipped at my comment, and I nodded in agreement. “You’re absolutely right. My apologies.” In between barks and panting, he kept thrusting his tongue toward me to connect with my face. Carrying him out toward the beach, I scanned the area, looking for the person who could be responsible for my new friend.

After a few minutes of waiting, I looked down at him and shrugged. “Well, looks like you’re stuck with me for a bit. Are you thirsty?”

I carried him in and held him while filling a small bowl with water. Before I could place it on the ground, he squirmed, trying to reach it while still in my arms. The poor guy lapped down the entire bowl, not stopping until it was empty.

With a newfound energy, he ran around the bungalow sniffing and exploring before squatting to pee.

“Seriously, dude?” I said, shaking my head while he stood beside me panting. “I guess I should thank you for not lifting your leg to take aim.” I went to grab some paper towels before squatting beside him to clean up his mess. He propped his paws on my thighs, climbing his way up my body undeterred.

My new friend shadowed me the rest of the afternoon. When darkness fell, I carried him outside still wondering to whom he really belonged. His eyes followed my every move. “You hungry, dude?”

He answered with a yap.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s see what we can get for you.”

Our gazes locked, his tail wagging like it was battery operated. “I never had a dog. What the fuck do you eat?”

“Yip.”

“Well, you’re no help.” I lifted him and added, “Let’s check out what I got.”

The two of us decided on a piece of chicken and a few crackers for him, and a sandwich for me. Once our bellies were full, I carried him outside and sat on the sand to watch the surf.

“I should give you a temporary name. Any preferences?”

“Yip.”

“Nah. That’s stupid. How about Spike?”

“Yip. Yip.”

“Okay, Spike it is.” Spike and I had a very heated discussion over crossbreeding and why designer dogs were once called mutts.

A while later, Spike yawned. “Okay, dude. I get the hint. Let’s get some sleep, but I don’t spoon on the first date.”