smart and annoying, so it would have been dumb to give them too much time to implement more surveillance stuff than a simple tracking device.
Past experience had taught me how these guys worked. Not that it mattered all that much, since I was headed to my grandfather’s house, and a trip there would be both predictable and expected. And if I were being totally honest, since I didn’t have a weapon, it was best to have someone watching my back. No matter how annoying it was.
What they didn’t know: I planned to park at his house, look around, and then take a casual stroll to my grandmother’s former homestead. The house had been demolished months ago, but her grave remained, tucked in a quiet corner of the property. My grandfather, the Kahuna, would have left any subliminal messages for me there. Or so I hoped.
This visit was benign, so I’d be safe enough, but I had to see about borrowing a gun from Annie—not that she’d hand over a weapon until I’d proved my mental stability. Why did Hawaiian law have to require completion of a safety class and a two-week waiting period prior to purchase?
The ten-mile drive from Annie’s house to my grandfather’s neighborhood passed quickly, so I didn’t have much time to think or brood. Probably a good thing. I was better at action than rumination anyway.
The road was two-lane without much traffic, and offered the occasional glimpse of waves breaking against the shore. Nice. I parked the Jeep just down and across the street from Kahuna Aukele’s, and dug out my cell to check for messages from Mitch. I should have done it sooner, but wanted privacy in case he said something unexpected.
I clicked the phone on, and a text from Mitch popped up. I squeezed my eyelids closed, wanting a minute to fill myself with memories of happy scenes we’d shared. His smile, the wire-rims sliding partway down his nose, walking his land while he captured photographs of nature, and how the lines around his eyes softened when we made love.
My mind insisted the intel on him couldn’t possibly be right, but a niggling sensation that hovered between my shoulder blades told me different. Fear raced along my nerves as I opened my eyes to read the message.
Stay safe. On way to HI. Never forget how much I love you.
Guilt. Oh, God, the man was so guilty of something it knotted my stomach. But it could be as simple as not sharing his thoughts with me, or why he made whatever decisions that had led Pierce and Annie to suspect him of spying on me. And maybe he did love me. Probably he loved me. And I loved him. But now I had doubts.
I shuddered. That I even questioned our relationship indicated a serious problem. My fingers grazed the keypad. What could I possibly say to him to make this any better? One of my favorite bits of wisdom rang loudly in the back of my mind—don’t say anything unless it improves the silence. How could I improve the silence? And not lie.
Safe with Annie. See you soon. Love you, too.
I pushed Send with shaking fingers. I did love him. But doubt had created boundaries that boxed in the freedom for me to love unconditionally. He was going to have to tell me everything, no matter if it broke the super-spy code of ethics or not.
And it had to be in person, when I could look into his eyes, and yes, touch him. Damn. And I’d worked so hard to build shields to protect him from my fingertip invasions. A moot point. Now I needed truth—unvarnished, bold, and raw—or our marriage wouldn’t heal. But to touch him with the intention of gathering images that might condemn him? That was a huge breach of trust, and I’d have to be absolutely sure I wanted to cross the boundary.
Did he know we were in trouble?
I turned onto the side street that fronted my grandfather’s house. Playful shrieks cut into my morose thoughts, and I glanced up to see a group of ragtag urchins chasing an oversized ball down the deserted street. The red, white, and yellow stripes bounced erratically
Past experience had taught me how these guys worked. Not that it mattered all that much, since I was headed to my grandfather’s house, and a trip there would be both predictable and expected. And if I were being totally honest, since I didn’t have a weapon, it was best to have someone watching my back. No matter how annoying it was.
What they didn’t know: I planned to park at his house, look around, and then take a casual stroll to my grandmother’s former homestead. The house had been demolished months ago, but her grave remained, tucked in a quiet corner of the property. My grandfather, the Kahuna, would have left any subliminal messages for me there. Or so I hoped.
This visit was benign, so I’d be safe enough, but I had to see about borrowing a gun from Annie—not that she’d hand over a weapon until I’d proved my mental stability. Why did Hawaiian law have to require completion of a safety class and a two-week waiting period prior to purchase?
The ten-mile drive from Annie’s house to my grandfather’s neighborhood passed quickly, so I didn’t have much time to think or brood. Probably a good thing. I was better at action than rumination anyway.
The road was two-lane without much traffic, and offered the occasional glimpse of waves breaking against the shore. Nice. I parked the Jeep just down and across the street from Kahuna Aukele’s, and dug out my cell to check for messages from Mitch. I should have done it sooner, but wanted privacy in case he said something unexpected.
I clicked the phone on, and a text from Mitch popped up. I squeezed my eyelids closed, wanting a minute to fill myself with memories of happy scenes we’d shared. His smile, the wire-rims sliding partway down his nose, walking his land while he captured photographs of nature, and how the lines around his eyes softened when we made love.
My mind insisted the intel on him couldn’t possibly be right, but a niggling sensation that hovered between my shoulder blades told me different. Fear raced along my nerves as I opened my eyes to read the message.
Stay safe. On way to HI. Never forget how much I love you.
Guilt. Oh, God, the man was so guilty of something it knotted my stomach. But it could be as simple as not sharing his thoughts with me, or why he made whatever decisions that had led Pierce and Annie to suspect him of spying on me. And maybe he did love me. Probably he loved me. And I loved him. But now I had doubts.
I shuddered. That I even questioned our relationship indicated a serious problem. My fingers grazed the keypad. What could I possibly say to him to make this any better? One of my favorite bits of wisdom rang loudly in the back of my mind—don’t say anything unless it improves the silence. How could I improve the silence? And not lie.
Safe with Annie. See you soon. Love you, too.
I pushed Send with shaking fingers. I did love him. But doubt had created boundaries that boxed in the freedom for me to love unconditionally. He was going to have to tell me everything, no matter if it broke the super-spy code of ethics or not.
And it had to be in person, when I could look into his eyes, and yes, touch him. Damn. And I’d worked so hard to build shields to protect him from my fingertip invasions. A moot point. Now I needed truth—unvarnished, bold, and raw—or our marriage wouldn’t heal. But to touch him with the intention of gathering images that might condemn him? That was a huge breach of trust, and I’d have to be absolutely sure I wanted to cross the boundary.
Did he know we were in trouble?
I turned onto the side street that fronted my grandfather’s house. Playful shrieks cut into my morose thoughts, and I glanced up to see a group of ragtag urchins chasing an oversized ball down the deserted street. The red, white, and yellow stripes bounced erratically
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