said.
“One more thing.” Gage looked at Maile. “In his notebook, Berwin detailed the night he killed Garcia. He added dried foxglove to Garcia’s food. Evidently the plant is natural digitalis and deadly. Berwin also claims Garcia invited him into his bed. Go figure.”
“Will the press hear all the details? I don’t want Mrs. Fernandez-Garcia to know about the bed partner if we can keep it from her. She’s suffered enough.”
They all agreed to keep that detail to themselves.
Cory responded to a voice from the reception area. When she came back to the conference room she handed a package to Maile. “The courier says it’s from Mrs. Fernandez-Garcia.”
Maile opened the box and found a Bible with all the ribbons marking the same page. She opened the book to Ephesians. A little yellow sticky note pointed to verse 1:16. “I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.” Tears streamed down Maile’s cheeks again as she passed the Bible to Cory who read the verse aloud.
“Wow,” River said. “See what you did for that mother? You brought her peace.”
Maile stood and stretched. She needed, more than anything, to see Lama. “I could sure use some Hawaiian comfort food right now. Who’s game?” She looked directly at Cory.
“Oh, what the hell?” Cory followed her out the front door.
Chapter Fourteen
Maile woke to the smell of fried Spam. She slipped on her panties and one of Lama’s aloha shirts and padded into the kitchenette. Lama turned from the stove and bent to kiss her.
“Smells good.” She poured a cup of coffee and set the table.
“Spam or kalua pork?”
“Some of each. I’m starved.” Maile felt better than she had in the three months since the murder case closed. It felt like her new life finally made sense. River, Cassie, Shay and Cory were always available to her if she needed to talk. Thankfully, no more murder cases presented themselves. She knew she’d need to take that step eventually to keep up her responsibilities to her partners, but for now she gratefully investigated the fraud, adultery and missing persons’ cases.
Lama helped her the most. He’d been patient while she went through counseling and sorted out her fear of death.
Maile looked at Lama at the stove as he cooked food for them. “Will you cook for my Auntie Lei and my cousins when they come to visit?”
“You know I will.” Lama placed a plate of fried eggs, rice, Spam and kalua pork in front of her.
She took several bites, moaning her approval.
Queen Lili strolled up to the table with a little baggie of dried plants. Lama reached down and retrieved the baggie. “Where did you find your catnip? I thought I’d looked everywhere.”
He transferred some catnip into a cloth pouch and tossed it to the floor.
Maile tried to suppress a grin.
“What?” he asked her.
“You’re just so tender with Queen Lili.”
“I told you she’s treated like royalty.”
Lama sat back down and leaned across the table and held Maile’s hand. “How did you sleep?”
“Pretty good. No nightmares. It helps to know you’re beside me.”
“That’s good.” Lama finished his plate of food.
Maile asked if Lama had time to take her for a drive before work.
“I’ll make time.”
Maile dressed in wool slacks, new suede boots and a wool blazer and followed Lama out into the crisp morning air. She’d asked him to take her to the Kerry Park lookout. She’d only been there at night and wanted to see the view in daylight.
As they crossed the familiar Ballard Bridge, Maile laid her hand on Lama’s. They’d crossed this bridge dozens of times, but this time it felt different. She felt comfortable in her own skin.
Lama wove the Mustang along the route to Highland Drive. He parked along the street and walked hand in hand with Maile. Maile saw the top of the Space Needle, the downtown skyline and the magnificent snow-capped Mt. Rainier.
She squeezed Lama’s hand. “It’s
“One more thing.” Gage looked at Maile. “In his notebook, Berwin detailed the night he killed Garcia. He added dried foxglove to Garcia’s food. Evidently the plant is natural digitalis and deadly. Berwin also claims Garcia invited him into his bed. Go figure.”
“Will the press hear all the details? I don’t want Mrs. Fernandez-Garcia to know about the bed partner if we can keep it from her. She’s suffered enough.”
They all agreed to keep that detail to themselves.
Cory responded to a voice from the reception area. When she came back to the conference room she handed a package to Maile. “The courier says it’s from Mrs. Fernandez-Garcia.”
Maile opened the box and found a Bible with all the ribbons marking the same page. She opened the book to Ephesians. A little yellow sticky note pointed to verse 1:16. “I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.” Tears streamed down Maile’s cheeks again as she passed the Bible to Cory who read the verse aloud.
“Wow,” River said. “See what you did for that mother? You brought her peace.”
Maile stood and stretched. She needed, more than anything, to see Lama. “I could sure use some Hawaiian comfort food right now. Who’s game?” She looked directly at Cory.
“Oh, what the hell?” Cory followed her out the front door.
Chapter Fourteen
Maile woke to the smell of fried Spam. She slipped on her panties and one of Lama’s aloha shirts and padded into the kitchenette. Lama turned from the stove and bent to kiss her.
“Smells good.” She poured a cup of coffee and set the table.
“Spam or kalua pork?”
“Some of each. I’m starved.” Maile felt better than she had in the three months since the murder case closed. It felt like her new life finally made sense. River, Cassie, Shay and Cory were always available to her if she needed to talk. Thankfully, no more murder cases presented themselves. She knew she’d need to take that step eventually to keep up her responsibilities to her partners, but for now she gratefully investigated the fraud, adultery and missing persons’ cases.
Lama helped her the most. He’d been patient while she went through counseling and sorted out her fear of death.
Maile looked at Lama at the stove as he cooked food for them. “Will you cook for my Auntie Lei and my cousins when they come to visit?”
“You know I will.” Lama placed a plate of fried eggs, rice, Spam and kalua pork in front of her.
She took several bites, moaning her approval.
Queen Lili strolled up to the table with a little baggie of dried plants. Lama reached down and retrieved the baggie. “Where did you find your catnip? I thought I’d looked everywhere.”
He transferred some catnip into a cloth pouch and tossed it to the floor.
Maile tried to suppress a grin.
“What?” he asked her.
“You’re just so tender with Queen Lili.”
“I told you she’s treated like royalty.”
Lama sat back down and leaned across the table and held Maile’s hand. “How did you sleep?”
“Pretty good. No nightmares. It helps to know you’re beside me.”
“That’s good.” Lama finished his plate of food.
Maile asked if Lama had time to take her for a drive before work.
“I’ll make time.”
Maile dressed in wool slacks, new suede boots and a wool blazer and followed Lama out into the crisp morning air. She’d asked him to take her to the Kerry Park lookout. She’d only been there at night and wanted to see the view in daylight.
As they crossed the familiar Ballard Bridge, Maile laid her hand on Lama’s. They’d crossed this bridge dozens of times, but this time it felt different. She felt comfortable in her own skin.
Lama wove the Mustang along the route to Highland Drive. He parked along the street and walked hand in hand with Maile. Maile saw the top of the Space Needle, the downtown skyline and the magnificent snow-capped Mt. Rainier.
She squeezed Lama’s hand. “It’s
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