Midnight Destiny

by Lakes, Lynde

  “No phone,” Rick growled.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  He didn’t answer. What was the point? He flicked on the windshield wipers and let the steady clicking fill the silence. After the blades cleared away the excess condensation, he flicked them off and fiddled with the radio. He found a station playing Hawaiian music and turned the volume low. Maybe music would soothe her.

  The woman was starting to get on his nerves. She dug through the storage bins in the car’s center divider, examining everything. She returned the sunglasses and other small articles she found, then punched the button on the glove compartment, no doubt hoping to find a cell phone inside. Rick fought back a smile when she discovered that the glove box, too, was locked.

  “Got a fingernail file? Or a pocketknife?”

  “You surprise me, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes.” He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “You’d break into a locked compartment? Risk damaging a rental car?”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. Let’s start with your name.”

  She hesitated just for a moment, but apparently good manners won out. “It’s Mele. Mele Keliikuli.”

  “Based on your last name, almond eyes, and slim build, I’d say you have a Polynesian father and a Japanese mother. No doubt fourth generation. Personality-wise, I’d say that when someone gives you something, you go nuts until you can return a like gift, or better.” He was just getting warmed up, and the stunned look on her face encouraged him to get more inventive. “You probably bought a giraffe T-shirt at the zoo to support some animal care fund and donated a fourth of your last paycheck to the tsunami relief efforts for the survivors in South East Asia. You have a kitten named Rainbow, and you call your poodle Sunshine. Am I close?”

  She folded her arms again and sank into a cold silence. Tension hummed between them. She shifted in the seat, and her jasmine perfume heightened his awareness of her, eroding his willpower. He glanced at her, taking in her exquisite length bathed in the dim glow of dashboard lights. The open slit of her long skirt revealed a hint of shapely leg. A glimpse of calf finished the job the perfume started, and evidence of his arousal throbbed forcefully against his zipper.

  Damn. He’d been far too long without a woman.

  He stomped on the gas harder. “Did you tell Dom your name?”

  Mele shook her head, her hair catching light from the dash panel.

  “Good. But that doesn’t end it. The vehicle registration and whatever ID you had in your purse will lead him directly to you.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Get real! My car is probably hung up halfway down the cliff. Even the cops and insurance investigators will have a rough time getting to it.”

  Rick slowed for a curve, while trying not to think of the feminine curves in the passenger seat only inches away. “Dom will find a way. Then he’ll come after us. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

  “Us? Hey, I’m not involved. Mahalo for saving my life and all that, but we’re strangers; and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “If you wanted to walk away from this, you should have let me kill him. Now we’re joined at the hip.”

  “No way.” She hit the dash panel with a tight little fist. “Take me home. I’m not playing this insane FBI game.”

  He would have laughed at her choice of words and flash of temper, but this so-called game involved their lives. “Until Dom is out of the picture, your home is with me.”

  “Forget it. This is all your fault. What were you doing in my lane of the road anyway?”

  Then he suddenly remembered. “I swerved to miss the woman. Did you see what happened to her?”

  “What did she look like?” Rick detected a tremor in her voice.

  “I only got a glimpse, but she wore something filmy and white.” Rick paused a moment and glanced t her. “I’d say she looked a lot like you – dark, slender, beautiful.”

  The compliment seemed to roll off Mele like mist off the sea. She rubbed her arms. “You just described Akua Lapu.”

  “You know her?”

  “Sort of. She’s a legend. The ghost of Makapuu Lighthouse.”

  Rick laughed. “You’re kidding, right? You expect me to believe in an imaginary spirit trumped up to scare mainlanders?”

  “Smart people don’t kid about her. For years police and paramedics have scraped up accidents on that particular S-curve. Veteran cops tell the rookies about the beautiful Akua Lapu who, at midnight on misty nights, leaves her sanctuary to wander the road to seduce male drivers into changing their lives – or she ends them.” Mele paused. “Don’t you see? Something is wrong in your life, and….”

  Rick snorted. “There’s a lot wrong in my life, but ghosts aren’t a part of it.”

  ****

  Mele rubbed her arms again, unable to stop shivering. “One is now.” Akua Lapu, as real as any of the mystical spirits of Hawaii, had proved her existence tonight. “That’s why you didn’t kill that man. Akua Lapu captured you in her spell. Like it or not, she’s in the driver’s seat now.”

  Rick’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Mele heard him curse under his breath. “It wasn’t a ghost who made me go against all reason. It was those big onyx eyes of yours.”

  “They’re brown. And compliments don’t faze me, so save your breath.”

  Rick’s profile remained stern except for a brief upward turn of the corners of his mouth.

  “This isn’t funny. I’m not supposed to be a part of this. Akua Lapu wants you. Or the other guy. Or both. But not me.” Mele fought tears. If only I hadn’t been on that road when the resolute spirit stepped in front of Rick’s car and into our lives. “She only goes after men…”

  “Just what I need: a man-hating ghost.” Rick’s laugh was pure derision.

  “You laugh, but as long as I’m with you, I’m in danger, too.” How can I maintain control of my life with Akua Lapu and this dangerous man upsetting my plans? “Find a phone booth. I have to make some calls.”

  “To whom?”

  She sighed with exasperation. “The police, for one. My insurance company. My family.”

  He snickered. “If you see a phone booth out here, you be sure to let me know.”

  “Just find a phone, will you?”

  Again his lips curved slightly, but he remained silent.

  “This is serious! My folks will be worried by now.”

  Rick exhaled and gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m sorry. Really. But….” His voice trailed away, heavy with regret, and he actually looked sorry, for all the good that would do her.

  Tightness built in her chest. Her fiancé and both of their families were waiting for her at the Ocean View restaurant. The midnight buffet was the first chance they’d had in over a week to get together and talk over last-minute changes to their wedding plans.

  And she had a lulu!

  They all knew she finished her play rehearsal at 11:00 P.M. and now that it was more than an hour and a half later, they would be frantic. This was a nightmare. Poor Geoffrey was a fanatic about promptness.

  But that wasn’t the worst of it. Now she’d have to delay telling him that as much as she loved him, she wasn’t in love with him. She glanced at Rick’s etched profile and groaned at the stirring low in her belly. Her ridiculous attraction to this stranger only proved she had no business marrying Geoffrey.

  Both families would be furious when she announced her decision to call it off. The Keliikulis and Akagis had been friends and next door neighbors since before she and Geoffrey were born, and the two of them had grown up together and became best friends. She supposed it was natural for the families to talk and dream and expect them to marry one day.

  Then a year ago, on her twenty-sixth birthday, the big push had shifted into high gear, and she and Geoffrey had gotten swept away under the pressure and announced their engagement. Guilt curled through Mele. Oh, God. Tomorrow was her wedding day. She glanced at the car clock –
a measly thirteen hours from now. Her stomach knotted. Geoffrey was a sweet guy, a solid guy, but to her, stability and friendship weren’t sufficient reasons to go into a passionless marriage.

  She cast another sideways glance at Rick. “I have things that must be settled tonight.”

  Rick merely concentrated on the road.

  It irritated Mele that this man who’d fouled up her life so royally didn’t ask her what things. He could’ve at least shown he cared that much. She couldn’t hold back the panic in her voice. “Tomorrow will be too late!”

  Jaw tight, Rick skidded around a corner on two wheels and headed up a road that curved within a dark valley between the hills. Mele dug her fingers into the seat and hung on.

  “Isn’t one accident a night enough for you?”

  He shot a sharp look at her. “That’s a dangerous stretch of highway even in daylight. Why were you out alone so late at night?” he asked as though the whole thing were her fault.

  “Look, lay the blame where it belongs, Mr. Lead Foot. But to answer your question, I was rehearsing a play. We all work days, and so nights are the only time we can get together.”

  “So you’re an aspiring actress?”

  The mockery in his tone irked her. “Aspiring? I am an actress. I get solid parts in movies and commercials,” Mele said. “And I’m not a struggling artist. I have a day job.”

  “Let me guess. You’re a cocktail waitress just waiting for her big break, right?”

  “Not even close. And besides, that’s too cliché even for you.” Then she fought a smile as she zinged him. “Actually I’m a litigation attorney. I do a lot of work for major corporations here in the islands.” She waited for his reaction as she often did when she dropped surprise facts on opposing counsel in court. Shock wiped the smirk from his handsome face, and a delightful thrill of triumph surged through her. She was further gratified by how long it took him to recover.

  Finally he cleared his throat and said, “So, which is your passion, the legal stuff or acting?”

  “I’m passionate about everything I do. Or I don’t do it.” That was why she had to talk to Geoffrey tonight. “My second major was drama, and this charity show is a way to hone my skills and feed the homeless.”

  “Aha!” He slammed the steering wheel, grinning as though he’d won back some of his lost advantage. “At least I was right about your do-gooder heart. What’s the name of the play?”

  “Sea Shells, as if you care.”

  “Ah, but I do.” The sarcasm was back in Rick’s voice. She braced herself for his cutting punch line. “I’ll be sure to see it. Wouldn’t miss experiencing all that unleashed passion.”

  Heat rolled through Mele. She yanked at the collar of her dress. This line of conversation wasn’t safe. She stared out the side window.

  The homes, few and scattered, gave way to thick, tangled tropical foliage, and the paved road ended.

  “You must have taken a wrong turn.”

  She expected him to turn around and head for civilization. Instead, he kept going, bumping over winding, hard, pothole-laden dirt. A shiver of apprehension tightened her neck muscles.

  Was this so-called FBI man taking her someplace safe, or kidnapping her? One of the rules of survival was to never let a stranger take you away from familiar surroundings. Too bad no one ever explained exactly how to avoid that when the man taking her deep into the wilderness was armed and definitely dangerous.

  Although smaller and unskilled at self-defense, she refused to let him control everything. She had two powerful weapons – her wits and, more important, God. She couldn’t count on Akua Lapu. The ghost had her own agenda and didn’t seem to care who got hurt in the process.

  What if Rick was exactly who he claimed to be and his only interest was to protect her? But that didn’t explain why he wouldn’t let her use the phone. This situation had to be more complex than Rick had led her to believe. Her best defense was knowledge. The more she knew about Rick Laro and what he was up to, the better.

  They hit a deep rut in the road, and the car rocked wildly on its axle. It would be best, Mele decided, to hold her growing list of questions until later or she might bite her own tongue off during this bumpy ride. More important, when Rick answered them, she wanted to see his eyes.

  After several miles, he pulled into a circular dirt driveway and parked in front of a shack. He didn’t switch the headlights off. Mele stared at the peeling paint, sagging porch and boarded-up front window. The tropical silence wrapped around her like a straightjacket. She couldn’t contain the quiver in her voice. “Where are we?”

  “This is my old friend Keoni’s place. He lets me stay here when he’s on the mainland.”

  “How generous of him.” She didn’t try to hide her sarcasm. She sat rigidly in the dark car, knowing it would be a mistake to go inside with a strange man who radiated sexuality and danger.

  Rick grabbed the suitcase from her lap before getting out, his knuckles brushing her thighs. She ignored the ripple of electricity that zipped up her leg.

  He strode to the passenger side, opened the door and offered his hand. When she narrowed her eyes and glared at him, he took her arm and drew her to her feet. “So it’s not the Hilton,” he said. “But it’s home for tonight.”

  “The verdict’s still out on that one!” Her tough words fell flat – his steely grip confirmed who still had the upper hand. Her arm burned where his fingers dug in. “What’s in the case, Fort Knox gold?” she asked, hoping this time he’d give her a straight answer. Instead, he didn’t bother to answer at all.

  What now? If I jerk away and make a run for it, where would I go? They were miles from civilization, in the midst of a tangled tropical forest, encroaching with its snare of impenetrable vines. She could follow the road, but so could he. She thought of the potholes and the moonless night. Never in her life had she encountered such a dark place. Without the headlights shining on the porch, it would be coffin-black.

  A foggy mist swirled around Mele, and a cool breeze hummed an unworldly warning in the giant mango trees that enveloped the house. Darn you, Akua Lapu, you’ve entangled me in this man’s destiny, and I don’t like it one bit. “At least can I use the telephone now?”

  He snorted. “No phone. Keoni doesn’t believe in them.”

  “Then how far is it to the nearest neighbor? They probably have a phone.”

  The putrid smell of rotting mangos in the air should have prepared her for her misstep, but it didn’t; she squealed as her high heels sank into something mushy.

  “Watch where you step,” he said, as if she’d had a choice.

  “You pulled me right into that goo.”

  “Sorry,” he said, without sounding the least bit sorry.

  They approached the shack; something scurried past them and charged into the bushes. A rat? A mongoose?

  “Watch that loose step,” he said.

  She stepped over it onto a porch that creaked under her one hundred and seventeen pounds. She frowned. Rick outweighed her by at least sixty pounds. If she was lucky, he’d fall through the rotted wood, and she could grab his car keys and escape. “I’ve noticed that you don’t feel compelled to answer my questions.”

  He put the silver case between his ankles and unlocked the door. “When you ask one that doesn’t center around calling people, I will – if I can.”

  “Any wild animals out here?” she asked, pondering her chances on foot.

  He laughed. “Probably.”

  Rick drew her inside, into darkness. She flinched when the door slammed behind her. Rick’s warm grip disappeared from her arm. His boot steps moved away. The hollow sound of abandonment sent a shiver through her. Rigid, she waited, her ears straining for any sound.

  Mele heard a click and saw the tiny flash of fire. When flames leapt to life in a kerosene lamp, she realized she’d been holding her breath. An ominous glow danced over the sparse furnishings. Cobwebs glistened silvery in the lamplight. “Is this it? Just one room?�
��

  “Yeah. Cozy, huh? All the comforts of home.”

  She glanced out the only window that wasn’t boarded up and frowned at the car headlights. “You planning to run down the battery?”

  “You worry too much.”

  Before she could come up with a snappy answer, he strode outside, leaving the door ajar. She watched as he flicked off the headlights and headed back to the house. When he returned, he walked right past her like a man on a mission. The flickering glow of the lamp highlighted his inky hair with quicksilver streaks and shadowed his etched profile.

  He crossed the room toward the bed, every step decisive, commanding.

  “Only one bed?” she asked. Before he could answer she set him straight. “I’m not sleeping with you!” She hated that even stress made her voice rise like a question.

  He laughed. “Up-front little wahine, aren’t you? Well, have no fear. We’re just disappearing together for a while, nothing more.”

  Excitement shivered up her spine at the idea of disappearing with this dark, handsome stranger. Oh, God, my mind is a turmoil of warring emotion. I can’t allow them to overpower me. But what if I just…? Everything in me is longing to touch him, to run my hands over him, to trace his sturdy shoulders, his impressive chest. No! Those are not my thoughts!

  Fighting Akua Lapu’s spell – and her own unsafe feelings – she stepped back. The bare wood floor creaked.

  Rick glanced at her. “Still nervous?”

  “Impatient.” Mele squared her shoulders and edged toward the table. Putting a distance between herself and the bed. Feigning calm, she trailed a hand across the dusty, scarred wood then pulled out a straight-backed chair and eased down onto it. She stared at his shadowy, imposing presence. Is it just the sense of danger and intrigue that makes this man seem irresistible? Is he irresistible? No! I have to fight this, whatever it is. She felt a stab of insane longing in her loins. A heightening that sent a shiver of forbidden delight and foreboding over her.

  Unable to blank the bed from her mind, she darted a furtive glance at it. “I must get to a telephone. I need to call my fiancé. He’s expecting me.”

  ****

  Rick flinched at the unnerving and puzzling disappointment that knotted his stomach. “Too dangerous.” He didn’t need this damned fiancé complication. Or was it merely a lie to keep him at arm’s-length? Her tone had the shrill ring of desperation. He wished he knew what that meant.