Almost Paradise

by Chris Keniston

  “I didn’t realize I was such a klutz.” “Okay. So I’m having one of those days.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s exactly wrong. Things are just…weird.”

  “Weird?”

  “Yeah. Well for one thing, Billy took the day off. He never takes the day off. But now he’s not answering his phone. The battery must be dead.”

  “So if Billy doesn’t answer his phone, the batteries are dead. If I don’t answer, I’ve fallen and can’t get up?”

  Lexie huffed into the phone. “Something like that.”

  Tucking the phone against her shoulder, she faced Billy. “Lexie’s been trying to call you. Your phone is dead.”

  He shook his head. “Turned it off. It’s in the glove compartment.”

  Angela held the phone out to him. “You want to talk to her?”

  With a brief nod, he extended his hand and accepted her phone. “Okay, you found me. What can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”

  “You’re with Angela?”

  “I am. Now why did you call?”

  “You could have told us your plans so we wouldn’t worry?” “We?”

  “Okay. Me.”

  “Thought so. Now why did you call?”

  “The tree lady phoned for you earlier.”

  “Tree lady?”

  “You know. Miss Maplewood. She wanted to know if we had three spots for tomorrow morning’s run. Two snorkelers and one bubble watcher.”

  “For who?”

  “She’s bubble watching. The Deluca kids are snorkeling.”

  “Wait. They’re not due until—”

  “I know. They’re arriving early. Coming in tonight. Doesn’t it strike you as a bit odd that these two kids lose their father and while their mom is still in the hospital, some lady is whisking them off to Hawaii to go snorkeling?”

  “Yes and no.” After all, according to Nick, he’d done almost the exact same thing with Bradley. Picnicking at the local lake the day after Patty Ann died.

  “What kind of an answer is that?”

  “The only one you’re going to get. Anything else?”

  “Your friend Brooklyn has phoned twice. The LA lawyer returned your call.”

  “Okay. I’d better give Brooklyn a call now. Thanks for the updates.”

  “Sure thing. And tell Angela if she wants to talk, I’m free tonight.” He heard a muffled chuckle. “That is if she won’t be otherwise occupied.”

  What he wanted to do was growl like a drill sergeant, but instead he simply answered “will do” before disconnecting the call and handing the cell back to Angela.

  “I’d better find out what everyone wants.” Even with his height, he needed to lean into Angela to reach the glove compartment and retrieve his phone. “This will just take a minute.”

  Telephone turned on, Billy followed the winding road to the Volcanoes National Park. Even with all the buzz about Deluca, he still wanted to take Angela to see the lava flow as planned. And that would require hanging out until sunset. A prospect that held a great deal more appeal than returning to Kona to handle all these people. He punched in the unlock code, and before he could scroll to Brooklyn’s number, “Anchors Aweigh” blared from his phone.

  “I was just about to call you.”

  “Brother, the shit is hitting the fan.” Brooklyn’s voice boomed throughout the small space. “The Deluca kids are gone.”

  “What?”

  “Someone got wind of Annette Deluca being moved to critical care and worked out the rest. It’s been plastered all over the news.”

  “Slow down and backup. What do you mean the kids are gone?”

  “I mean gone. As in no longer residing at the

  family home in Brentwood and not in the company of any neighbors or friends. The media is having a field day.”

  “So the word is out?”

  “Roger that. Three different sets of Adam and Bethany Delucas left LA today. My people are still tracking down the ones we’re interested in.”

  “Well, I can help you there. Find the set headed for Hawaii. We got a call they’ll be sailing with us in the morning.”

  “Now that is interesting. None of the decoys are anywhere near Hawaii.”

  “Decoys?” Three sets of siblings with the same name traveling on the same day was statistically improbable. “Isn’t that an awful lot of trouble just to avoid a little media attention?”

  “A hell of a lot. And I’m still trying to put my finger on why are they hiding those kids.”

  * * *

  The national park was one of the Big Island’s main tourist attractions. Especially after dark. An active volcano, Kilauea drew people from all over the world. “I can’t believe you’ve never come to the park after dark.”

  “Hey.” she tapped his arm. “At least I’ve been here during the day.”

  “But you didn’t drive the rim.” He put the car into park near the caldera viewing area.

  “We didn’t have time. Lexie had to be home in Kona for a date, and it took longer driving across the Saddleback road and around through Hilo than we’d planned. But the waterfalls were awesome.”

  By now her handbag had taken up permanent residence in the back of his SUV. It was easier than locking it up and unlocking it every time they stopped at an overlook and got out of the car. He handed her the pink sweater she’d brought with her at his insistence.

  “Are you sure we’re going to need all this?”

  “I’m sure.” Billy held the picnic blanket in his arm along with an extra US Navy sweatshirt. The extra sweatshirt was for Angela. The nighttime view of the caldera was amazing, but the wind and cold was biting for those caught unprepared.

  Inside the nearby Jaggar Museum and gift shop, Angela stopped to look at the displays of puzzles. Her focus remained on the different brightly colored boxes. “Look at these. I think one would be cool for Bradley, don’t you?”

  Having been raised with three younger sisters, he recognized—usually—when questions were intended to produce affirmation and not an honest response. In this case, he recognized the question as such, but happened to agree. “Very cool.”

  Bradley came from landlocked West Texas. Had Billy not been so focused on spending more get-acquainted time with Angela, he would have realized bringing his partner’s son along for a nighttime view of the volcano would have been way cool for a six-year-old boy. Next time.

  Not one, but two puzzles bought and paid for, along with a few volcano bookmarks and decks of playing cards to be used as stocking stuffers for Christmas in Wyoming, Billy and Angela emerged from the warm building into the chilled evening air.

  “Oh. I see what you mean.” Handing the package over to him, Angela slipped into her sweater.

  He said nothing. Stood like one of those men in Bermuda shorts he’d always made fun of at malls and tourist shops, holding more packages for their vacationing wives than an overworked bellhop. They’d fallen into an easy rapport. A comfortable manner. And he liked it.

  Ten minutes later, Angela slid the oversized US Navy sweatshirt over her head. When she continued to rub at her arms for warmth, Billy moved behind her and pulled her against him, looping his arms around her waist. “Better?”

  She leaned back and nodded. “You make a good wind break.”

  “Nice to know I’m good for something.” He smiled.

  Shifting in place, she gave him a slight poke with her elbow. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  In the last twenty-four hours, they’d gone from nervous, to comfortable, and now to playful. He liked this even better. If only life could stay this simple. The gray haze of dusk slowly gave way to the black of night shattered by the crater’s fireball of bright reds, yellows, and oranges, snapping his hold on the here and now.

  “Gotta fight the pain. Push on. Have another pill. Just one more, man. It’s the nature of our chosen profession. Just one more.”

  He didn’t want to go back to that day. That place. Th
at time. But there was no escape. Pictures flashed through his mind as clearly as the pictorial on the tourist signboard beside him. Joe’s movements, jerky, shaky as he swallowed another pill. Those damn pills. “Nature of our chosen profession”. The team moving out, Joe the lead. “It’s okay, man. I’m fine. You know the routine.”

  “Fine my ass. Does Doc know how many of those things you’re downing?”

  “Of course. He prescribed them. Come on, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

  As they’d done the time before and the time before that, the mission was on. Like a fine Swiss watch, every movement precisely timed. The team advanced in choreographed synchronization. A precision born of training, practice, and camaraderie.

  But unlike the time before and the time before that, more pills hadn’t helped. The sharp mind and steady hands everyone’s lives depended on had yet to report for duty. This time was different. The robot had frozen in place. Stopped moving, and someone had to move forward and find the problem. It was Joe’s responsibility. Billy leaned in before pulling his mask into place. “Let me.”

  “Not happening. I can do this in my sleep.” “It’s not your sleep I’m worried about.”

  “Get off my case.” Joe let out an unexpected laugh. “You just want to have all the fun. Not today, buddy. Not today.”

  The movie reel playing in his head shifted to fireballs in the sky. Shooting flames. Reds, yellows, and oranges mushrooming in the distance. His chest tightened, constricting his airway. Closing his eyes, he tried to squeeze the images out of his mind only to be pulled away by a sharp pressure on his arm and soft voice teasing his ear.

  Blinking, he dragged his gaze from the pulsing volcano to the weight on his arm.

  “You’re hurting me,” Angela repeated, a hint of surprise in her voice, her hand tugging at his arm.

  Processing the words and thoughts in a nanosecond, he realized his fingers had tensed and with all his strength, bit into the soft flesh of her arm. The sweater and sweatshirt not providing anywhere near enough protection from his stranglehold.

  Yanking his arms away as though he’d been struck by the scalding lava of Kilauea, he took a safe step back. “I’m so sorry.”

  Turning to face him, her brow furrowed with concern, “Where did you just go?”

  “Sorry.” He blinked. “My mind wandered.”

  Her arm stretched forward, and gently her fingers fell on his hand. “Where?”

  To hell.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Magnolia Maplewood turned the key in the lock and shoved the condo door open. Bethany and Adam Deluca filed quietly past her, each rolling a suitcase and carry-on behind them. Bethany’s a leopard pattern in pink. Adam’s desert camo. Before the accident, Annette Deluca had hit every luggage store in LA looking for a set of US Navy-themed baggage for her ten-year-old son, and finally Adam agreed military camo would be a suitable substitute.

  “There are three bedrooms.” Magnolia pushed her bags to one side, dropped her keys on the kitchen counter, and crossed the expansive living room, pausing to glance out the triple doors to the ocean beyond. No doubt tomorrow in daylight, the view would be impressive. Opening the doorway to one side of the dining area, she stepped into a large room painted in shades of light pastels with seashell patterns on the bedspread and curtains.

  In silence, Adam and Bethany looked around then followed her to the next room. Similar in size to the previous room, the decor kept to a sandy earth-toned pattern with driftwood pieces placed about. A bowl, a lamp, a basket with magazines in the corner. Simple, understated, yet a peaceful compliment to the crashing waves outside.

  Making her way across the living area once again, Magnolia opened the door to the third bedroom. Most likely the master. Only slightly larger than the other two rooms, this one was done in a tropical theme of palm trees. Adam and Bethany stood in the doorway, neither saying a word.

  Magnolia would swim naked with a great white to bring back Tom Deluca. Anything to see these two tussling with her for the master. Instead, both turned, Bethany leading the way, Adam on her tail.

  “I guess I’ll take the palm tree room,” Bethany finally said, detouring to retrieve her suitcases. “Adam can have the other room. Looks more manly.”

  She flashed her brother a wan smile, but he offered only a shrug in return.

  “Let’s get the bags unpacked.” Wishing once again that things could be different, she rubbed her hands together and forged ahead with her first effort at starting their trip on a happier note. “I’ve been told the kitchen is stocked. What do you say as soon as we’re settled in I make some of my famous garlic parmesan popcorn and we find a good movie on TV? Maybe something with Elvis and hula dancers.”

  “That is so lame.” Bethany rolled her eyes, but Magnolia was delighted to see the hint of a teenage twinkle in the fifteen-year-old’s gesture. It certainly beat the five hours on the plane of the very vocal teen insisting she should be at the hospital with her mother. Magnolie wasn’t totally sure she didn’t agree with the girl. But it wasn’t her decision to make.

  Adam shrugged at his sister’s choice and headed for what had been designated the manly room.

  Under the pretext of changing out of her travel clothes, Magnolia closed her bedroom door and pulled out her phone. Three texts from Tom Deluca’s lawyer. The most recent forty-five minutes ago. Still no contact with Everrett. First thing in the morning, they were going snorkeling. She needed to get with Billy Everrett. Taking out the paper she’d carefully tucked into her wallet, she tapped the numbers on her keypad.

  “Hello,” a deep male voice answered.

  “Oh, Mr. Everrett.” The quiet hesitation lasted longer than Magnolia had expected. “I’m Magnolia Maplewood, household manager for the Deluca family.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m calling on an important matter regarding The Delucas.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Magnolia momentarily pulled the phone away and glanced at the screen as though it were the phone’s fault the man on the other end seemed limited to a vocabulary of two words. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

  “Well, I’m on the road. Another time would be better.”

  “Yes, well, what I have to say should be discussed in person anyway. But it is of an urgent matter. Will you be on the boat tomorrow morning?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “I see. In that case, when might I be able to meet with you in private?”

  Billy kept his eyes on the curving yellow line dividing the road ahead and wished he had ignored the call. “I will be in the shop most of the day.” Especially after having played hooky today.

  “Then you have time tomorrow?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He hadn’t offered so many polite single affirmative responses in one conversation since working with the female captain from the Navy Safety Center investigating the explosion that cost Joe his life and him his leg.

  “Thank you, Mr. Everrett. Until tomorrow.” “Tomorrow, ma’am.”

  Billy let the phone fall into the cup holder in the console.

  “If I didn’t know better…” Angela failed to hide her smile. “…I’d say you ticked off your mother.”

  That made Billy smile. Growing up, when his mother caught him breaking the rules, he hadn’t dared let a single word other than yes, ma’am escape his lips, or his ass would have been proverbial grass. Angela had hit the nail on the head with that one.

  “That was the Deluca’s household manager,” he explained.

  “Household manager?”

  One shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. At this point that was more than what he’d known about Magnolia Maplewood yesterday. “Apparently that’s who the children are traveling with.”

  “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “To speak with me in person.”

  “Good. She may be able to shed some light on this whole situation.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Pondering the conversation, he express
ed his thoughts out loud. “She’s a household manager. Whatever that means.”

  “It means she pays the bills, organizes the household help, handles the maintenance or the hiring of those who do the maintenance, and most importantly for the moment, has custody of two children and most likely has enough authority to know what the heck is going on.”

  “Unless—” He cast a quick sideways glance in her direction. “She’s a kidnapper.”

  “Kidnapper?” Angela sat up straighter. “You don’t really think?”

  “No, I don’t really think. But it is something to consider.”

  “I suppose.” Leaning back in her seat, she lifted her chin, and he could almost see her mind sliding back and forth, drawing conclusions. “If she does have legal permission to travel with the kids, why do you think she wants to see you?”

  That was what he wanted to know.

  * * *

  “That was just cruel.” Angela giggled. “Seriously cruel.”

  “You have no idea.” Billy turned the corner onto Angela’s street. “Bright, neon pink. The guys on the baseball team refused to let me forget it.”

  “It would never have occurred to me to paint any of my brother’s toenails while they were napping.” Angela laughed a little harder as they pulled into the driveway. “Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some pie left.”

  “The perfect end for a great day. Thanks.”

  Much to his surprise, despite his momentary lapse at the site of the burning crater, the evening had followed the same comfortable mood they’d enjoyed previously. She’d continued to tease and poke fun with him, and the somber mood that had so quickly descended on him faded away with equal speed.

  The drive home had been filled with stories of growing up on the island versus Wyoming. But none had made Angela laugh as hard as the last one about his toenails. The mortification at finding himself in the boys’ locker room with pink toenails still bristled his spine. The silly stories had been necessary to keep his mind from wandering back to the crazy idea of a life for a life.