Chapter Thirty-EightSleep arrived as soon as my heavy head had hit the pillow and there I'd remained for nine straight hours—until three the following afternoon, to be exact. I suspected my colleagues were still embracing pillows and blankets with unequivocal rapture.
After calling Eddy to request he watch the fuzzies at least another couple days, to which he'd jubilantly agreed, I plodded into the lanai with a tablet, giant filled-to-the-brim mug, and two cranberry-bran muffins.
I slugged back half the coffee like a caffeine addict that had been stuck on a deserted island for a week and then shoved a chunk of muffin into my mouth … and nearly spit it forth when my eyes were drawn to the headlines. A sailboat had exploded not far from Honolulu Channel, off Sand Island Beach. A search-and
