Touch of Betrayal, A (25 page)

“What?” Pressure built at the base of my skull. “No one mentioned an early morning meeting to me.”

Pierce eyed the knife in my hand. “You were booked.”

He had a point. Irritating, because the man
always
had a valid explanation for everything, no matter that he rarely shared said explanations.

I jerked the chair next to Mitch away from the table, but he stalled me, pointing to the wall clock. “Real estate agent T-minus-thirty.”

Indecision held me poised over the chair for a full ten seconds before I slid it back under the table. “Okay. Then give me a quick rundown. I thought we’d decided to keep the HPD on a need-to-know leash.”

“I vetoed that plan while you were out last night.” Annie shot a quick glance at Adam, a cloud of worry passing over her face. “Official law enforcement won’t be in the restaurant with you because the locals would spot them immediately and blow the whole setup. So, I’ve offered to patch them in with a continuous video and audio link.”

“It’s a solid plan, Belisama.”

“When gangs are involved, there’s usually multiple injuries, and often a dead body or two.” Adam’s eyes were shadow-dark. “Cleanup would be a cluster without on-the-books help.”

They appeared relaxed, like the meeting around Annie’s kitchen table was an afternoon coffee klatch, except… “Where’s Maddie?”

“Next door. I’m going to owe our neighbors a bundle of reciprocal play dates before this is over. Go shower, El, or you’ll be late for your appointment.”

Pierce winked at me. “Looking hot.”

The sweat dripping between my breasts sizzled. I swiped at it on my way out of the kitchen. This was no time for sizzling anything.

Fifteen minutes later, wet hair pulled into a braid, and after a quick check of my cell phone to insure Annie’s surveillance was active, we were ready to go. “We should have a story about why I’m the one signing the papers. Usually both married people sign.”

Mitch shrugged. “Tell her it’s your inheritance money, and this is an investment.”

Truth. A novel concept in my life for the past couple of days. “Good idea. And the truth for once.” I hiked myself into the passenger seat of Mitch’s truck. He held the door for me, leaning in, and then wrapped his hand around my neck.

I stiffened, but he held tight, brushing my ear with his lips. “Don’t forget when we’re in the truck we’re on camera, and every word is being recorded.”

A delicate shiver spread down my neck. I rubbed at it, pushing him away. “Tickles,” I said for whoever was listening.

Could I forgive him? Make our marriage work? Not today, I couldn’t. One year? Ten years? My inner wisdom shouted a resounding no, and then my muddled brain smothered the no with a whispered maybe.

The first part of the meeting
with the realtor was easy, nothing but paperwork, and outlining the things I couldn’t live without. Money doesn’t go far in Hawaii, so I was very grateful for the insurance settlement from my parents’ house. Between that and the profit from selling my townhouse, I was in decent shape.

I’d decided to go for a condo rather than a house. There was too much time and expense that went with a stand-alone residence, and I wanted to focus on rebuilding my personal coaching business here in the islands. Eliminating the face-to-face appointments when I moved to Mitch’s house had gone well, and the phone sessions worked, but lacked the human connection I craved.

I counted on my fingers; three more days until I had to go back to work. I’d blocked a full week off, planning to use the time to walk my parents’ property and accept the loss of my childhood home. Pierce had trashed my plans beyond recognition. Nothing like being thousands of miles from where I’d planned and nowhere near close to finding peace. Plus, four of my vacation days had already passed in a blur of agonizing revelations.

Pushing aside my busy thoughts, I selected three properties to view. We set off in the realtor’s Honda Accord, because no way was I going to be stuck in Mitch’s truck, having to watch every facial expression and nuance in my voice. Fortunately, we were all on the same page about which vehicle to take, although for wildly different reasons.

All three of the properties I was interested in were near Turtle Bay, the least expensive coming in at three hundred thousand. I could swing that easily, and have some change for furniture and a few amenities. But it was a dump. I was careful not to touch anything, especially when the walls closed in around me with suffocating persistence. They held the scent of mildew, and I spotted a cockroach on the kitchen counter. Granted, Hawaii is tropical, and there would always be a swarm of insects to deal with, but on my kitchen counter? Nope. That didn’t fly. I’d be fitting frequent exterminator services into my monthly budget.

The second place was decent, had nice hardwood floors, and smelled clean. The real estate agent opened the sliders, letting in a fantastic breeze that carried the sound of the ocean right into the living room. It was going for one million three. I gulped on that one, sucked it up when I considered the view. A terrace opened onto the beach, and the bedroom overlooked a quarter-moon swimming pool that had been nicely landscaped. I put it on my ‘possible’ list.

The third property was smaller and didn’t have an ocean view, but it shared a white sand beach with the Turtle Bay Resort. I could live with that, and with a price tag of five hundred thousand it wouldn’t completely drain my savings. The condo itself had huge windows that let in a ton of light, gorgeous tile floors, and vaulted ceilings that gave the impression of wide-open space. Bad thing: the bedroom had ugly carpeting. That could be replaced with the kind of bamboo floors I’d come to love while staying at Annie’s. There was a loft that called to me, and when the realtor opened the bedroom slider a chicken strolled by.

I was home.

Except for the final test. I needed to touch the walls and see if they had anything to tell me. Or show me.

I whirled to face the real estate agent, grinning. “I’d like to put a deposit down.”

She whipped out a sheaf of paperwork. “Let’s fill these out, and then I’ll run over to the office to make copies and let them know it’s under contract.”

Since I didn’t plan to negotiate for a lower price, or file for a bank loan, the business part of the transaction was completed within thirty minutes. I wouldn’t take ownership until the inspection was complete, closing could be scheduled, and the bank wired the appropriate funds. But it was essentially mine. I left her shuffling papers on the kitchen counter, and wandered into the bedroom.

“Mitch,” I called, then spun to find him standing behind me.

“You love it, don’t you?” Sadness slowed his words.

The pain in his eyes tore at my heart. I immediately understood, because although the condo had two bedrooms, it wasn’t big enough for both of us. Not to live full time. “Yeah, I do. You can visit while we decide what to do. The thing is, I want to live alone for a while. We’ll work on it, Mitch. I promise to try and find a way for us to heal, but we need a new place. One that doesn’t hold any memories, isn’t in someone else’s house, and doesn’t come equipped with listening devices. Could you give me a minute? I want to explore and touch things—just to be sure this is right place.”

He ruffled my hair, his dimple flashing for a second, and then he headed for the kitchen and tucked his arm through the realtor’s. “How about I walk you to the office while we can discuss which home inspectors you’d recommend.”

When he turned to wink at me, I mouthed a thank you then turned to face my new home, inhaling the fragrances of belonging and infinite possibilities. It was time to become acquainted with the walls. Since I was most comfortable in the great room, I started there, running my hands over the surface closest to the sliding doors. A tremor of delight ran up my arm. Happy people had lived here. I skipped into the bedroom, literally skipped.

It was small, but not cramped. When I touched the wall, peace settled into my chest and I released a sigh from deep in my heart. It was all good, except why wasn’t I getting any images or voices?

I made my way upstairs to the loft and trailed my fingertips over the railing.
Grandfather!
This time it was an image, a detailed and clear picture of Kahuna Aukele leaning over the railing, looking down into the great room. How could he possibly have been here? Stupid question. He seemed to have a way of floating through walls and showing up in the most unexpected places. I should be getting used to it, but the why and how of it nagged at me.

I ran downstairs, and slapped my hand against the kitchen wall. Words flared in my mind. Aukele had to meet with me. Millie had created a vial of the antidote for my mother’s poison, and I’d need it. Desperately. Images of Maddie sick, unable to breathe—my healing gift by itself not strong enough to heal her—flooded my brain.

The barrage of words stopped and I jerked my hand away from the wall, desperation squeezing the breath from my lungs. How was I going to get that antidote? My legs quivered so badly, I had to lean against the counter to support myself.

Find Aukele. Now, Everly.

Okay. I could do this. Grandfather was here, and had left a clear message for me. I’d deal with the weirdness of how he did it after I got my hands on that vial of medicine for Maddie. I couldn’t let anything happen to Annie’s daughter, not ever. I’d met her while she was still an embryo. It was one of the most profound moments of my life, working to rid Annie of the poison threatening her survival, and discovering the first signs of a new life tucked safely in her womb. Madigan and I had a connection that couldn’t be broken, and I would protect her until my dying breath.

I turned, heading toward the patio.

I’d been so wrong.

There was no reason to search for Kahuna Aukele. He waited for me outside, his living, breathing presence standing on the patio.

It was his way to surprise the hell out of me, throw me a bucketful of curve balls, and then stand back and see how I handled the shock. Could this be part of my Huna training? Surely he wouldn’t use Maddie’s life as a training exercise.

I brought my hands to my abdomen, and breathed into the hara, the site of my soul power. I would need every ounce of strength I had to face whatever message my grandfather had come to deliver.

When I stepped onto the patio, he greeted me with a gentle smile and open arms. I leaned into his hug, absorbing the power and peacefulness of his energy. How could he be so calm when Maddie’s life might be at stake? How would I tell Annie?

Panic burned in my gut. I’d fix this. Had to fix it before Annie found out her daughter could be in danger.

I backed away from my grandfather, looking into his eyes. “How do I prevent this?”

His response was clear, and devastating. “You cannot prevent it, but you will be given an opportunity to assist in young Madigan’s choice whether to stay among us, or to pass on to another form of energy.”

My mind screamed
No!
Grandfather paled. He must have tapped into my thoughts and somehow been trampled with my internal scream, but I couldn’t stop it. Every cell in my body was in full rebellion at the injustice of being put in such a terrifying position.

Grandfather took my hand in both of his, and pressed a small vial into my palm. “As I showed in the messages I left inside, this is a gift from Millie. It will help Madigan, but the healing must pass from your heart to hers. There is no other way. And Granddaughter, you must understand and accept that healing is not always defined by life as we know it. Healing can come through death as well.”

TWENTY-SIX

Mitch and the real estate agent
were coming down the path toward us. It took every ounce of courage and determination I had to wipe the emotion from my face and shower them with an I-just-bought-a-house smile, and—most important—I tucked the vial of antidote into my bra. I’d know exactly where it was at all times, and no one would notice it and ask questions. Considering my lack of a sex life, it should be safer than a chastity belt without a key.

When I turned to introduce the realtor to Kahuna Aukele, I faced empty space. He’d disappeared again. It didn’t faze me. Holy Mamma Mia, was I ready to accept that humans could fade through walls and disappear into nothingness? I shook my head, grasping for some semblance of lucid reasoning.

Mitch rested his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. His touch soothed my scattered thoughts enough that I managed to string some words together. “I’ve been having so much fun roaming around the new house.” It was the best I could think of with visions of Maddie sick, possibly fatally, hovering on my internal monitor.

“Closing is set for two weeks from today,” the realtor said, handing me a sheet of paper. “This is a list of our local property attorneys. I suggest you meet with a few before you decide who you’d like to work with. We sell quite a few condos, so they’re all familiar with our contract and how we do business. You shouldn’t have a problem retaining someone to represent you.”

She had a way with words, making it easy for me to nod, and pretend like my world hadn’t erupted into a pile of crazy, unbelievable rubble.

Except I’d apparently failed, because her smile wobbled, then faltered. “If you’re finished inside, I’ll just lock up and we can be on our way.”