Page 27 of Hidden Falls

As he did hers.

Their love was a weighty comfort: she had a responsibility to stay safe and return alive.

“Anything I should know?”

Lei shrugged. “A favor for a friend. I’ll be gone less than a week.”

“The kids won’t like it. I won’t, either.”

“I know.” Lei moved closer, nestling deep into Stevens’s arms. She breathed into the warm place beneath his chin, between his collarbones. “I think I have time for us, after all.”

DAY TWO

Lei asked Marcella to drive the truck the next morning; Stevens had agreed to take their kids to school so they could leave early for the airport for Lei’s flight to Mexico. They didn’t have time for breakfast, though they’d each filled a travel mug with strong coffee.

Words were few between them; Lei worked on relaxing as they drove, putting on some mellow Hawaiian slack-key on the radio and trying to enjoy the pretty, dawn-lit views of jungle, mountain, and sea.

Marcella glanced at the ocean as they passed Ho‘okipa. “Looks like surf today.”

“Yeah.” Lei rested her chin on her hand, gazing out at the water. “They say it gives you energy to start the day that way; I get that because I love a good run before work, though that’s been hard to do with the kids’ schedules and getting to the office on time.”

“Mornings are nuts at our place too.”

Marcella pressed a hand to her stomach. “Can you get a Tums out of my purse for me? Feeling a little off today.”

Lei dug in the fancy bag. “Sorry if the coffee wasn’t up to your standards. I know how you like a good brew.”

“It’s not that.” She popped the Tums and chewed it. “What did I just agree to do for you and Harry?”

“You don’t have to do anything you feel uncomfortable doing. I don’t expect you to take the heat that will be coming down the pike when our supervisors find out where we went,” Lei said, bundling her wayward hair into a ponytail. She’d tried to anticipate what she might need to do to blend in over there and couldn’t figure it out, so she’d dressed in black jeans and a V-necked shirt; she wore her usual black running shoes and carried a jean jacket. “I’m not planning to take long over there.”

“I don’t like this whole thing. Officially, and unofficially. Just saying.” Marcella angled Lei’s truck toward the curb at the airport in Kahului, preparing to drop her at her airline’s departure zone. Lei was catching a flight to Los Angeles, and then another connecting flight from Los Angeles to Mexico City, where Harry had asked her to meet up.

“I don’t like this either, in case you were wondering.” Lei opened the door of the truck and stepped onto the sidewalk. She opened the rear passenger door, hefting a duffel with backpack straps out from the back seat. “I’m trying to stay positive right now.”

“I won’t lie for you,” Marcella said. “But I’ll cover for you as long as I can.”

Lei smiled at her friend, still seated behind the steering wheel. “I’m grateful. Harry will be, too. Thanks.”

“You’d better be grateful. Now stay safe, or Stevens will kill me.”

“Got it.” Lei raised a hand in a briefshakagesture as she stepped back from the truck and addressed Marcella through the open window. “Let me know if anything weird happens on the case, and don’t forget to reach out to Vice. I already gave my buddy Jack Jenkins a heads-up you’ll be working with him.”

“Will do.” Marcella waved and pulled out.

Lei turned back, squared her shoulders, tightened the straps of her backpack, and headed into the airport building. “Wish I’d grabbed one of those Tums,” Lei muttered as she headed for the check-in counter. “No way out but forward.”

14

“Now, what did I agree to again? Oh yeah. I’m covering for Lei and Harry and carrying on with the investigation on Maui while those two go on a dangerous trip to Mexico. Nothing wrong with this picture, nothing at all.” Marcella pressed a fist to her churning stomach. “I need more coffee and breakfast too, if I’m going to take this on.”

She pulled Lei’s truck in at Maui Coffee Roasters, a local spot outside the airport area, and went into the café. The familiar scents of strong coffee and warm pastries soothed her nerves as she got in line; she was Italian after all. Remembering that brought a smile back to her face. “When in doubt, food!” was one of her mother’s guidelines.

Marcella ordered an egg sandwich and a large cappuccino, then took one of the quirky, hand-painted tables at a window that looked out over the parking area and busy Hana Highway. Once seated, Marcella took out her laptop and put on a pair of noise-canceling headphones. Immediately, the hubbub of the coffee shop vanished into the background as she opened the file Special Agent Bateman had prepared for her.

Many of the “leads” he had found in Malia’s computer and on her phone were dead ends, but several related to prescription drugs led back to a name: Dr. Gary Paulson.

“There has to be a doctor behind all of this.” Marcella’s eyes narrowed. “Because somebody has to be writing scripts for all of those pills.”

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