Veils and Vengeance Read online

  The images were colliding into each other—the crazy boyfriend, the knife, the dead woman at the bottom of the ocean. The tension in my head increased, and I forced the scenes from my mind, searching for something to replace them that would comfort me. Luke filtered into my thoughts, and even though I didn’t want to, I recognized a yearning for his presence. We weren’t dating, and our friendship felt safe. At least that was something I could focus on that wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Adri?” Jon was still there, of course, and he sounded worried. “Are you okay?” The warmth of his hand on my back brought me out of my panic. I blinked, trying to clear the tears clinging to my lashes. He would think I was an emotional basket case.

  Malia knew something happened to me last summer, but maybe not all the details. Jon didn’t know anything about me, but my scar would have been impossible to miss in my red swimming top. When he hadn’t said anything about it, I figured it was because Malia had filled him in. But maybe Jon was just as polite and kind as he seemed. I considered the chance that Malia didn’t know as much of my history as I’d assumed—if she stayed out of the news loop, it was possible.

  “I’m sorry,” Jon said.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I mumbled.

  “Adri, please, what’s the matter?”

  I heaved a great sigh and lifted my head slightly. “I have issues.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  I groaned and swiped my eyes with my hand.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “Did Malia tell you anything about me?”

  He studied me for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Besides, ‘Jon, you have to meet my wedding planner. She’s incredibly gorgeous and the nicest girl.’” He leaned forward. “She was right, you know. You are gorgeous, but you’re authentic too. That’s rare and I feel so lucky to be able to spend some time with you today. Sorry I ruined things.”

  I thrust my hands into the sand. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s been a wonderful day—just what I needed.” I paused, trying to think how to explain my behavior. My fingers traced my scar, did I want to tell him? He was watching me again, waiting for me to say something.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “I noticed your scar. I can tell it’s something that happened recently because it’s still pink, but I’m not going to ask, and you don’t have to tell me either.”

  I don’t know why, but the gentleness in his words undid me. The tears slipped down my cheeks and I bowed my head, letting them fall in dark splotches on the sand.

  “Would you like me to hold you for a minute? I won’t try to kiss you.”

  My throat tightened as I attempted to cut off the flow of tears. I didn’t feel embarrassed or angry at myself for crying in front of Jon—and that was a good feeling. My emotions had been stacked neatly away in the corner closet of my heart, buried by the work of planning twelve weddings since the first weeks after my recovery. Lorea and I had been completely booked, and I had reveled in the exertion because it kept me from focusing on my wounded heart.

  I looked over at Jon. He opened his arms. With a sniff, I leaned into them and let his embrace cover the torrent of emotions whirling through me. It felt good to be held, caressed, and safe for the moment. The ocean continued its steady pounding of the shores, and I listened to its soothing sounds. I wasn’t this person—the girl who cried on the guy’s shoulder—a guy I hardly knew. I had to get a hold of myself, but my seams were unraveling.

  “Last summer, I thought I was falling in love. My boyfriend tried to kill me, which is why dating hasn’t been that appealing lately,” I mumbled against his chest.

  Jon tensed, probably trying to think of what to say, so I hurried to continue. “I don’t know if you heard about Sylvia Rockfort last year and how her wedding planner was almost killed.”

  “Wait, that was you?” He lowered his head. “The guy who murdered your other client and then went after you?”

  “Except the news didn’t tell you that his first victim—my client—was also my best friend.”

  The lines around his eyes tightened as he pulled me close. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  I allowed some of my fear to dissipate and let myself be comforted by him. “I thought I was doing okay, but I’ve been working so much and maybe haven’t dealt with everything like I should have.” I thought about the two counseling sessions I’d made it to because of Detective Ford’s insistence—well his and Lorea’s, added to my whole family. The sessions helped, but I’d been so busy that I hadn’t returned. “So I have some trust issues that are pretty much a part of who I am now.”

  “I’m sorry I tried to rush things.” He pulled his head back to look at me. “I couldn’t help myself, though. You’ll only be here for another week.”

  “Were you thinking of proposing by Monday to keep me on Kauai?”

  His face reddened, and I poked him. He tightened his embrace. “No, but I actually have plans for the future which may or may not include a permanent move to the mainland.”

  I lifted my head. “Really? Why?”

  “The same kind of thing Kyle is doing. He asked if I’d be interested in working with him—keeps telling me how great the soil is in Idaho.”

  I wondered how much he knew about his brother working near Sun Valley. Malia had confided that he was working to start his own business away from the GMO, but that his father would be furious with his decision. Maybe this was Kyle’s way of trying to appease his father. If Jon took charge of the operations, it would keep the peace. But that would mean— “You’re moving to Idaho?”

  “I’m not sure, but I told him I would at least come and work with him for a few months. If it doesn’t suit me, then I thought I’d help him hire someone else.”

  “And you’d come back to Kauai?”

  “Well, I’d still split my time between here and Nebraska—you can’t ignore the corn belt of the Midwest.”

  I sifted through what Jon was saying—that I might see him after this week in Hawaii. It made me nervous. I was only in this for a couple dates, but suddenly there was a possibility for much more. Calm down, I thought to myself, this is only a picnic.

  “Don’t worry, Adri. I just met you. I’m not going to push you. You’re definitely as amazing and beautiful as Malia described, but I would never try to force your trust. Let’s have fun, okay?”

  I nodded.

  He took my hand and helped me up from the sand, but still held me in his protective embrace. “No worries.” Jon kissed the top of my head and then released me. “Ready to head back?”

  I pulled my big toe through the sand, thinking how to phrase what I wanted to say. I breathed in and looked up at Jon. “I want you to know that I’m not like this. I don’t just unload on guys on the first date. I’m really sorry.” He held up his hand, but I clutched his fingers. “But I think I needed to tell someone. I haven’t talked about what happened very much, so thank you for listening.”

  His eyes softened and he glanced at my mouth. “And now I want to kiss you again, so we’d better go.”

  For a second I thought about giving in to that part of me that wanted to be held and kissed, but I didn’t trust my own heart. It had led me astray, and I was forever marked by the experience. I squeezed Jon’s hand and then let it go.

  Chapter 6

  AUTHENTIC HAWAIIAN SHAVE ICE

  Ingredients:

  Strawberry Syrup:

  1 1/2 cups diced fresh strawberries (or blend up whole berries)

  2 tbsps freshly squeezed lime juice (1 lime)

  3/4 cup water

  3/4 cup white granulated sugar

  Pineapple Syrup:

  1 1/2 cups diced fresh pineapple

  2 tbsps freshly squeezed lime juice (1 lime)

  3/4 cup water

  3/4 cup white granulated sugar

  Ice

  Macadamia nut ice cream or your preferred flavor

  1. To make the strawberry syrup, combine the strawberries, lime
juice, water, and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring the mixture to a boil, then cook over medium heat for 5 minutes. After removing the pan from the heat, leave the fruit in the syrup while it cools to room temperature. Then, after it cools completely, strain the mixture through a fine mesh sieve into a small pitcher or squeeze bottle.

  2. In a separate saucepan, repeat the process from Step 1 with the pineapple. (*Cook pineapple for about 10 minutes.)

  3. If desired put one scoop of ice cream in the bottom of each bowl. Finely shave ice into bowls or cups, then pour syrup over the ice.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

  We repacked everything, now covered with sand, and headed to where we’d left the bikes. I admired the bits of broken seashells scattered along the beach and a few pieces of driftwood as we walked in comfortable silence.

  A dark shell caught my eye, and I bent to pick it up. Black and white lines ran down the contours of the shell. “This one’s pretty.” I held it up for Jon to see.

  “It’s rare to find an unbroken shell, but this beach actually has a few.” He studied the shell and handed it back to me.

  Beachcombing in Hawaii was against the law—I had read that in my blue ultimate guidebook of Kauai—but I didn’t think holding onto a chipped shell would land me in jail. The problem was I didn’t have anywhere to put it. “I’d like to keep this one.”

  “Here.” Jon unzipped a side pocket on the backpack.

  “Thanks.” I dropped the shell into the pack.

  Jon readjusted the backpack and then took my hand. As our fingers intertwined, a pleasant warmth spread across my cheeks. We crested the hill, and I turned to see the ocean. Jon released my hand abruptly.

  “Hey!” He hurried toward where we’d left the bikes and stopped short. They were gone. “I locked them up—together.” Jon looked toward the bike path angrily. “Someone would have to take them apart to steal them.”

  Vehicles couldn’t get on the bike path, so if someone actually stole the bikes they would have to carry them. It didn’t seem likely. I turned in a circle and caught sight of a gleam of metal near some shrubs. The dry grass crunched underfoot as I jogged over to the bush. “They’re right here.”

  “What?” Jon ran over and lifted the bikes up, examining the locks, which were still in place. “That’s strange,” he said. “I wonder if someone did try to steal them.”

  “But isn’t that where we left them?”

  “No, look at the grass over here. You can see where the bikes flattened it.” He pointed at the indentation, then pulled the bikes from the bush and began unlocking them. “A lot of people just wind the lock through the tire and onto a branch, but I locked the bikes together.”

  He had wound one lock through the front tire and frame of the bike across to the other bike’s frame and vice versa with the second lock. A couple minutes later with Jon muttering under his breath about thieves, he had the bikes ready to go. “Everything looks okay. You ready?”

  “Thanks again, Jon, O mighty protector of vintage bicycles.” I touched his cheek. He grabbed my hand, tickling my sides until I squealed. When he let go, I grabbed my bike and pedaled onto the path. I had a head start for about three seconds before I heard the dinging of the little bell behind me. I shrieked and pedaled faster. Jon laughed as he raced to catch up.

  “Those skinny white legs are no match for mine, you know,” he said coming up beside me.

  “You’d better watch it, mister, insulting my pearly whites.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your teeth, but you do have a great smile.”

  I reached out to try to smack him, but he veered away with a chuckle. We rode that way teasing back and forth for the next ten minutes, until Jon pointed toward the ocean. “Let’s stop at this dock. It’s kind of cool. We missed it on the way. I got blinded by the reflection off your legs.”

  “That, or you were too busy checking out my backside.”

  His raised his eyebrows. “Who me?”

  We followed the paved trail off the main path to a pavilion overlooking the desiccated remains of a large dock. The path led all the way to the edge of the cliff and a gated viewing area, so I began to brake as I rode down the hill.

  One minute I was gazing out at the rugged beauty of the ocean, the next I was tumbling over the top of my handlebars screaming. The momentum pushed me forward, and that combined with the downhill slope brought me right to the edge of the cliff. My feet skidded on the red dirt, but I couldn’t stop. I grabbed at the grasses and rocks, trying to find something to keep me from falling. Just as I was about to go over the edge, Jon gripped my arm and I jolted to a stop.

  A searing pain went through my right shoulder and I cried out.

  “Hold on. I’ve got you,” Jon yelled.

  I reached over with my left arm and clasped his hand. My feet dangled for a second, but I kicked forward until I found a base for one foot. “My shoulder!” I cried as Jon pulled on my right arm, the pain scorching through my body.

  He stopped pulling, and before I knew what had happened, he’d flipped me over and dragged me up to the top on my back. The rocks bit into my skin, and I winced as pain again shot through my arm.

  I turned my head to see how in the world I’d gone from riding my bike to cliff-jumping in two seconds. The front tire had come off my bike. The tire had rolled to a stop at the railing in front of the dock. Waves slapped against the dock and the roar of the ocean reverberated in my ears.

  “Are you okay?” Jon knelt next to me, carefully brushing the dirt from my arms. “I thought you were going to go right over the edge.”

  “Me too.” I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing in my arm, legs, and back. A stinging sensation across my legs indicated I had some great abrasions.

  “Are you in a lot of pain? Your legs are all scratched up.”

  “Guess they won’t be white anymore.” I leaned over and saw the angry red scrapes. I sucked in a breath through my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. “Man, this stings.”

  “You know I was just teasing.” Jon said in a mock serious tone. “You don’t have to go to drastic measures to change. I think you’re beautiful.”

  I laughed and opened my eyes. Jon hovered over me and I focused on the concern I saw in his face. “Thanks. And thanks for saving me.”

  “I’m sorry about your shoulder. We’d better get some ice on it as soon as we get back. And those scrapes are nasty. Do you need to go to a doctor?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” I moved my shoulder slightly and cringed, but I concentrated on the movement, deciding that it was something akin to a sprain.

  “Here, let’s get you out of the sun.” Jon helped me over to the pavilion. I grimaced with every movement chaffing against my road rash. He helped me sit and handed me a water bottle.

  While I sat in the shade, Jon gathered up my bike parts and leaned them against the picnic table. Then he called the rental shop and explained the problem. A few minutes later, he sat beside me. “They said they are on their way to pick up the bikes and they can give us a ride back.”

  My shoulders slumped. “I was having such a good time.”

  “Hey, don’t worry. It’s been a great day, just a little more eventful than we bargained for.” He watched me, studying my face. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

  “No, I executed a perfect flip.” I picked out another piece of dirt from the scrape on my knee and glared at the scratches on my arms. “Good thing I don’t have to be in the pictures.”

  “You’ll be in them, just not all of them,” Jon said.

  “Would it be okay if we walked back?”

  Jon shook his head. “I know your arm is hurting you, and you’re tired, but let’s wait for someone to pick us up. Tell you what. When we get back, I’ll treat you to some famous Hawaiian Shave Ice from Hee Fat General Store.”

  I didn’t want to give in, but my body ached from the impact with the hard red soil. Walking for three more miles definitely wouldn’t
help my injuries. “That sounds good.”

  It turned out that we had to walk down the path a little ways to the next beach to meet our rescue pickup, but the movement helped get my mind off the nagging thought I couldn’t banish. How did my bike tire come off? Parts like that don’t just work loose. Jon said the bikes had been moved. Had someone tampered with my bike?

  “Do you think someone was trying to get the wheel off to take the bike?” I asked Jon.

  “That wouldn’t make sense. Any fool could see it was chained to the frame as well.”

  When we returned to the bike shop, the owner greeted us and offered us a refund. Jon refused, and I told the owner I was fine.

  He frowned. “We’re very sorry about this. I just don’t know how it happened.”

  “You and me both,” I said.

  “Are you sure someone didn’t tamper with the bikes while they were left unattended?”

  “They had been moved, but they were locked securely, so I don’t know.” Jon motioned to the bikes behind the counter. “Do you think the screw just came loose?”

  The man shook his head. “Those were some of our newer models, but even if it was older, those parts don’t just come loose.” He studied me for a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I glanced at my shoulder. “A bit sore but I still enjoyed the day.”

  “Let me get you some ice.” The owner went into another room and returned with a baggie of ice.

  “Thank you. This will help.” I held the bag on my shoulder and winced.

  Jon put his hand on my waist as we exited the bike shop. “I know just the thing to take your mind off your battle scars.”

  I flinched as he helped me into the car and my leg brushed the seat. “You’re going to slather me in numbing cream?”

  “No, remember? I’m going to treat you to an authentic Hawaiian treat.”

  The Hee Fat General Store was also in Kapa’a, so it took us less than five minutes to drive to the shop filled with wonderful souvenirs and a shave ice counter in the back. There were six people in line, so it allowed me plenty of time to stare at the dozens of flavors available.