Sun Kissed

by JoAnn Ross

  “Sorry about interrupting your work,” he said, feeling like some love-struck teenager crushing on a cheerleader.

  “Hey, no problem,” Nate answered absently.

  “Get back to work.” Donovan recognized that tone. He’d just lost Lani’s brother to whatever muse was whispering in his ear.

  Nate’s only response was a vague murmured agreement as he added a small, still unnoticeable baby bump. Although he’d wanted to shout the news of his impending fatherhood from the rooftop to the world, or at least to their friends and families, he’d agreed to respect Tess’s desire to wait a few weeks before revealing her pregnancy.

  He wondered what Donovan would say if he’d told him that he understood his problem, all too well. His writing had suffered while he’d been trying to not only convince Tess they were meant to be together but worrying about keeping her alive long enough for her to agree to marry him.

  After yesterday’s test strip had come up with a pink plus, he was finding it more and more difficult to live with a mind swirling with horror.

  “You have a contract,” he reminded himself as he returned his attention to the computer screen. “A deadline. Baby stuff to buy.” Which, having married friends, he knew was a lot of stuff. The crazy thing was that he was actually looking forward to it, but he’d rather surrender his left nut than attend a baby shower. Which he wouldn’t have to do, being a guy. Would he?

  Putting that worry aside, he stuck on the noise-blocking earphones and was rewarded by the imagined sound of dogs baying eerily through a swirl of thick, icy Puget Sound fog.

  He was back on track. Immensely gratified, after making a mental note to go online and order some of those books about what to do when you’re expecting, he began tapping away at the keys, leaving his best friend to handle his own romantic dilemma.

  * * *

  As the deserted beach caught the last moment of evening sun, Donovan Quinn opened one of the downloaded test books and went to work, determined to put Lani and her colorful but highly distracting family out of his mind.

  He spent most of the night and the early part of the next morning poring over the sample interview questions. Unfortunately, his thoughts kept drifting around the corner to her beach house, and by the time Kenny Palomalo had delivered a decent, low-mileage Taurus with a full tank of gas and only minimal rusting and he left to meet with Lani’s friend, Donovan couldn’t remember a single thing he’d read.

  The meeting, which took place over a diner breakfast of fried Spam, hash browns, and eggs, was uninformative and explained why the police chief hadn’t been interested in her story. All the signs pointed to the conclusion that this Ford guy was nothing more than a douche with itchy feet.

  Having spent eight years drifting around the South Pacific, the nine months Taylor Young’s fiancé had spent on the island was the longest he’d settled anywhere. With marriage looming in the new year, he’d undoubtedly felt the noose of unwanted responsibility tightening around his neck and had taken off before he suddenly found himself buying furniture, making mortgage payments, and losing diving and surfing time to attending parent-teacher meetings and kids’ soccer games.

  On the surface, that’s all the case amounted to: another woman growing a little wiser the hard way. But something had been nagging at the back of Donovan’s mind since Taylor had first arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes late, with that vague, obviously concocted reason for having been on Oahu he hadn’t bought when Lani had told him about it. She did not, he noted, name the so-called chocolate supplier she’d supposedly been meeting with.

  After insisting that her fiancé wouldn’t have jilted her, she gave him a recent photograph of the guy and promised to let him know if she remembered anything he might have said that would shed some light on his disappearance. Outwardly, she was cooperative. She was also lying, Donovan concluded as he drove toward the library on the windward side of the island.

  Over the years working for the Portland Police Bureau, he’d dealt with a great many liars, and he’d bet a month’s salary that the lissome Taylor Young was another. That she was hiding something was obvious. But what? And why? He might have only agreed to talk to her for Lani, but damn if this case didn’t have him unwillingly intrigued.

  11

  He found Lani seated in a green meadow, surrounded by a group of wide-eyed children. Her cotton sundress, emblazoned with brilliant orange and gold poppies, billowed about her, making the flowers appear to have sprung from the fragrant volcanic earth. A creamy hibiscus was tucked behind her ear. Donovan couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so lovely.

  “He was a very nasty giant,’” she read aloud to the avid young listeners, “forever sticking his tongue out at people and calling them names.”

  “Just like Johnny does,” a young girl piped up.

  “I do not,” an obviously rankled boy, whom Donovan took to be the accused, shot back.

  “Do, too.”

  “Do not!”

  “You do,” the girl repeated insistently.

  “Hey,” Lani broke in mildly, “I thought you wanted to hear the story.” Her tone, though soft, carried the unmistakable ring of authority. The two combatants fell silent.

  Lani nodded. “That’s better,” she said with a smile.

  “There! He did it again,” the girl called out, pointing a finger at Johnny as he stuck his tongue out at her.

  “Johnny,” Lani admonished sternly, “that’s enough. If you and Debbie don’t stop squabbling, you’ll both have to go home without hearing the end of the story. Is that understood?”

  Eyes downcast, two dark heads nodded obediently.

  “Now, where were we?” Lani murmured.

  “The giant was calling people bad names,” a helpful listener offered.

  Lani flashed the boy an appreciative grin. “Thank you, Paulo.”

  The color deepening the boy’s already dark skin told Donovan that the dazzling smile was no less effective on six-year-old boys than it was on grown men.

  “Anyway,” Lani continued, “people were getting very tired of this nasty, ill-tempered old giant. Finally, another giant tossed the obnoxious fellow into the ocean where sharks ate every bit of him. Except his tongue. It was too bitter even for a shark to eat. They spit it back out and—”

  “It turned into the black rock on Shipwreck Beach,” someone broke in eagerly.

  Lani rewarded her audience with a smile. “That’s right.”

  “Read us another.” The group took up the cry, young voices high and enthusiastic.

  “Well, I suppose we have time for one more. Who wants to hear the legend of Kanunu?”

  A flurry of hands shot up. All except one, who’d caught sight of Donovan.

  “Who’s that?” the little girl with sleek black hair and almond eyes inquired, pointing toward Donovan.

  As she lifted her head, Lani’s gaze met Donovan’s steadily watchful one. Soft color bloomed in her cheeks. “I think,” she said, “that we’ve read enough for today.” The resultant complaints sounded like a Greek chorus of doomsayers, but one that Lani ignored.

  “Nolina,” she instructed the girl who’d first taken note of Donovan, “would you please tell Mrs. Yukimura that I’m going to take a short break and will be back in a little while?”

  “Are you Lani’s boyfriend?” the little girl asked, lingering behind the others to study Donovan with somber, unblinking eyes behind her round glasses.

  Donovan smiled down at her. “I’m working on it.”

  “Mr. Quinn is my brother’s best friend,” Lani said decisively. “He’s simply here for Christmas vacation. Now scoot. If you’re a good girl, maybe Mrs. Yukimura will let you date-scan the books.”

  Apparently those were the magic words because the young girl took off like a shot, leaving Lani and Donovan alone.

  “How was your breakfast with Taylor?” she asked.

  “
I ate Spam.”

  “That’s no surprise. Given that it’s the island’s national meat product, thanks to all the GIs eating it during World War II. I was referring to what clues you came up with regarding Ford’s disappearance.”

  “I’m still working on the clue thing. How long have you known Taylor Young?”

  “We’ve been best friends since fourth grade. Why?”

  “Do you know of any reason she’d lie about her boyfriend’s vanishing act?”

  “Lie?” She shook her head. “Taylor doesn’t lie.”

  “She did this morning.”

  “I don’t understand. Are you saying that she knows where Ford’s gone?”

  The warm sun was reflected in her hair, and unable to resist, Donovan walked over to her and ran his hand down the molten copper strands. “I’m not sure. But she does know a helluva lot more than she’s telling.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”

  “But you’ll find out.”

  “I’ll do my damndest. Not for her. But because you asked me to. Meanwhile there’s something else I need to tell you…

  “I thought of you, Lani,” he said, getting to his real reason for having come here. Since he hadn’t managed to get anything out of her friend, he could’ve called or texted her about the unsatisfactory breakfast meeting. “All night. And not just last night, but the night before that. I can’t get you out of my mind.”

  “You certainly don’t sound very happy about it.” Nor was his frown at all encouraging.

  “This can’t go anywhere,” he warned, as his hand slipped beneath her hair.

  “And you call yourself a detective,” she said as she decided that the touch of his fingers on her neck was the closest thing to foreplay she’d had in a very long while. And if he could have her bones melting with just that butterfly-light touch, what could he do to her body with that perfectly shaped mouth? “I figured that out between the lighthouse and the tea.”

  A long, vibrating moment hummed between them as he looked down at her, and Lani looked back up at him. Below them, the surf beat against the lava rocks crowding the narrow white beach, as it had for millions of years. The cry of seabirds, diving for fish, filled the plumeria-scented air, mingling with the carefree laughter of children frolicking in the playground adjacent to the small library building.

  “Me, too. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you,” he said.

  “You’re not alone in that. Me wanting you, I mean.”

  He shouldn’t feel so good, she thought, looking out at the silver splash of a family of dolphins playing offshore while she gathered her scattered thoughts. Shouldn’t taste so good. But he did, and heaven help her, she was so very, very tempted.

  Lani was seriously considering taking the rest of the day off, when her phone chimed. “I’d better answer,” she said, not taking her eyes from his. “In case it’s Taylor.”

  He rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Go ahead.”

  It was. “Lani,” the voice, edging near hysteria asked, “is Donovan with you?”

  “As a matter of fact, he is.”

  “I need you,” she said between sobs. “Both of you. Now.”

  “Of course.” Donovan had dropped his hands and no longer looked anything like a man on vacation with seduction in mind, but rather the crime-busting detective he was. “Where are you?”

  “At Ford’s shop.” More sobs. “Hurry!”

  * * *

  They took her Jeep to the docks, where they found Taylor sitting in the midst of what could charitably be called a mess. It looked as if a hurricane had gone through Pacific Paradise Adventures.

  Boxes of equipment had been slashed open and masks, snorkels, and tanks tossed carelessly aside. The usually well-stocked shelves were bare, their contents spread over the floor. A saltwater aquarium had been overturned; the gaily colored tropical fish lay lifeless among the wreckage. Ford’s shop had been thoroughly, expertly ransacked.

  “What on earth?” Lani stared in disbelief at the scene.

  “It’s no better next door,” Taylor moaned, jerking her head in the direction of the door that connected the two businesses. “It’ll take me all day to clean up all my candy-making supplies they threw out of the cupboards.”

  “What were they looking for, Taylor?” Donovan asked. From his calm expression, Lani got the impression that such vandalism was a routine event for him. All in a day’s work. She marveled at his ability to remain composed when her own heart was beating like a jackhammer.

  Taylor’s blonde hair skimmed her shoulders as she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Dammit.” Donovan crouched down in front of her, grabbed her shoulders, and gave her a firm shake. “Don’t you realize this is getting serious? You could be in danger, Taylor. The goons who tore this place apart weren’t just looking for something. They made this mess was to send you a message and Ford a message and could decide to come after you next. As soon as they figure out that you know what he’s been up to.”

  Taylor’s golden complexion went chalk white. “But I don’t,” she wailed. She turned accusing, tear-filled eyes toward Lani. “You didn’t tell me he was so mean.”

  Lani shot Donovan a sharp look. “Can’t you see she’s had a terrible shock?” She joined them amid the rubble on the floor and took hold of her friend’s hand. “Taylor,” she coaxed softly, “why did you lie to Donovan?”

  Taylor’s startled green eyes flew to Donovan, seeking confirmation of Lani’s words, but his expression remained inscrutable. “Oh, Lani,” she said, “I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid you’d think that I’m a terrible person.”

  “Never,” Lani assured her.

  “A few weeks ago,” Taylor said as she scrubbed at her wet cheeks with the backs of her hands, “a man came into my shop to buy some candy for his kids. He said he was an FBI agent who’d been sailing the islands and had dropped in for a meeting with the local police. Anyway, he was friendly enough, although a bit formal for my usual taste, and in a kind of stiff, mainland way, good-looking.”

  She glanced over at Donovan. “Actually, now that I think about it, he reminded me a great deal of you, Donovan.”

  “Thanks. I think,” Donovan returned dryly. “What did this FBI agent want with you?”

  “I told you,” Taylor insisted, “he simply came into the shop to buy some saltwater taffy. But it was a slow day, and Ford had taken a two-day charter over to the Big Island, so I was grateful to have someone to talk to.”

  “What did you talk about?” Donovan asked.

  “Really, Donovan,” Taylor protested, “that’s a little personal.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, this vandalism has gotten more than a little personal,” Donovan pointed out. “So let’s try it again. What did you two talk about?”

  “Just the usual things men and women talk about when the man is trying to pick the woman up and the woman’s trying to decide whether she’s going to let him. Surely you’ve got a few tried-and-true lines of your own, Donovan.”

  She paused for a moment, waiting for a response that didn’t come. Lani suspected that the long, drawn-out silence would work well during interrogations. It was certainly beginning to get on her nerves. And apparently Taylor’s, as well, because her friend caved. As Donovan had obviously expected her to.

  “After a while, he asked me if I wanted to have a drink with him,” Taylor finally said. “Since I wasn’t doing any business anyway, I agreed and closed the store early. Of course that was my big mistake.”

  “Why?” Lani asked.

  “Because I was attracted to him, that’s why. Despite the fact that he was all wrong for me. For heaven’s sake, Lani, haven’t you ever been irresistibly drawn to a man against your better judgment?”

  As Lani felt Donovan’s gaze shift to her, she refused to look at him. “Of course I have,” she mumbled.
“Are you telling me that things went beyond a drink?”

  Taylor tugged her hand loose and began twisting it with the other in her lap. “Oh, I knew it was foolish. He told me up front he was married. And, of course, I was engaged to Ford. But after my third Painkiller—”

  “That’s not drugs,” Lani jumped in to assure Donovan. “It’s a drink. A very good one, actually, with dark rum, coconut, fruit juice with nutmeg on top. But it’s lethal.”

  “Apparently.” Donovan looked right into Taylor’s eyes in a way Lani recognized. He had a way of doing that which she’d decided also was a result of his police work. “Go on.”

  “We went to his boat, which was docked at the marina, and had sex.”

  “Do you think perhaps Ford found out about it?” Lani asked. “And perhaps that’s why he left the island?” And you? she thought but didn’t want to say.

  “I don’t know,” Taylor admitted. “We went to Da Conch bar instead of The Blue Parrot, where Ford always goes, which I thought would be safer, but it’s possible someone saw us and told him.”

  “There’s also a chance the guy who came into your store wasn’t an agent at all,” Donovan said. “Did you ask for identification?”

  “No. But I didn’t have to, because he flashed a badge.”

  “But you have a name.”

  “Bob.”

  “How about a last name?”

  “I’m afraid not. He probably said it, but either I didn’t catch it in the beginning or forgot after the Painkillers.”

  “I told you they were lethal,” Lani said.

  “Seems so.”

  Taylor Young’s expression was miserable. And looked real enough. But then again, the Cascades Killer had looked as harmless as a choir boy. Which was how he’d avoided setting off internal alarms when he’d shown up at his victims’ campsites claiming to be lost. And Ted Bundy hadn’t coaxed all those girls into his VW by acting like the stone-cold serial killer he’d turned out to be.

  “Well, with any luck, the police will have some ideas when they go over this place,” he said.

  Taylor paled visibly at his words. “Police?”