Right from the Gecko by Cynthia Baxter

“We’re not the ones you want.”
    â€œDon’t tell me, the East Coast, right?” our Polynesian princess continued. “I can tell because you’re both so pale. I’m thinking New York, Philadelphia, Boston…someplace where there’s lots of snow.”
    â€œUh, New York,” I croaked. “Outside of New York. Long Island.”
    â€œWelcome! But you’re not in the Big Apple anymore. It’s time for you both to experience a little Polynesian-style fun.”
    Frantically I glanced over at Nick. As I’d expected, he had the same deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face that I was certain was on mine. But even he was no match for the dark-haired waif wearing someone else’s lawn around her hips. Before you could say “pupu platter,” she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the stage.
    I had no choice but to follow.
    On stage, I stood frozen, staring out at the audience and blinking. The Marine-drill-sergeant-turned-hula-dancer hadn’t even put our leis on yet, and I was already overwhelmed by the tiki torches, the pounding drums, and the sea of faces I could see gaping at me through my mai tai–induced fog. By this point, I really hoped human sacrifice wasn’t on the program.
    â€œI’m Lokelani,” she chirped into her bra. “And you are…?”
    â€œJessie,” I replied, doing my best to smile.
    â€œAnd who’s your handsome friend?”
    â€œNick,” he grunted.
    â€œGreat!” Draping a lei over each of us, she added, “Welcome, Jessie and Nick, and thanks for volunteering.”
    â€œWe didn’t exactly—”
    Before I could finish that thought, Lokelani exclaimed, “You two are going to demonstrate to our audience how easy it is to learn the hula!”
    â€œI don’t think we’re the best people for the job,” Nick protested.
    â€œYou see, we have no actual Polynesian dance experience,” I added lamely.
    But I knew I was wasting my breath. We were already part of the show. There was no turning back now.
    Besides, Lokelani had put her hands on Nick’s hips and was grinding them back and forth in a swaying motion.
    â€œNow bend your knees and move in time to the music,” she instructed. “There you go! You’re a natural!”
    â€œYou’re doing great, Nick,” I added encouragingly as I copied his movements.
    â€œOur first vacation in years,” he whispered loudly, “a romantic getaway in paradise, and you have to spoil it by throwing yourself into the investigation of the murder of somebody you barely knew!”
    â€œNow raise your arms and move them like the graceful leaves of a palm tree!” Lokelani cried.
    â€œIt’s not as if I planned any of this!” I whispered back. Fortunately, the music was loud enough that no one in the audience could hear us.
    â€œNow move your feet,” Lokelani instructed. “And pretend your fingers are drops of rain…. Go for it, you two! You’re doing great!”
    â€œYou can’t let it go, just this once?” Nick persisted, talking through clenched teeth even as he moved his arms like the graceful leaves of a palm tree.
    â€œA young woman has been murdered!” I countered, turning around slowly and making fluttering movements with my fingers. “And her murderer thinks I have something he wants! Do you really expect me to ignore all that?”
    â€œYes! That’s exactly what I expect!” he shot back. “Because even though I try to be supportive, I think this time you’ve got some serious delusions about your role in this whole—”
    â€œKeep those feet moving!” Lokelani interrupted. “Now you two face each other…. You’re both doing a terrific job!”
    â€œThen you’re just not getting it!” I told Nick as we stood eye to eye, our hips swaying and our fingers fluttering. “Not