Page 39 of Mai Tais and Murder

“To expose corruption that goes to the highest levels of professional sports? To show how games are being manipulated, how people’s livelihoods and dreams are being traded like commodities?” His voice carried absolute conviction. “Yes, it was worth it.” Helen watched as he replaced his sunglasses. “Thank you,” he said, looking between them. “For helping bring the truth to light. And for understanding why it had to be this way.”

Mel offered her hand. “Good luck,” she said as the man took it to shake a moment before turning to disappear into the main terminal.

Helen felt Mel’s arm slip around her waist. “Well,” Helen said softly. “I suppose that solves our mystery.”

“Mmm hmm,” Mel agreed. “Though I’m not sure how I feel yet about him using us as unwitting allies. Although I can admit it was clever.”

Helen turned to face her partner, seeing the mix of professional appreciation and personal concern in her eyes. “Are you angry? About being manipulated?”

“No,” Mel said after a moment. “He did what he had to do to protect his daughter and expose the truth. I can’t fault him for that.” Pulling their carry-on roller bags, they made their way back to the main terminal, where their own flight would board soon. The morning sun had risen higher, streaming through the windows and making the terminal bright.

“You’re a good person, Mel Nelson,” Helen said as they found seats at their gate.

“Why do you say that?”

“You can appreciate the solution to a mystery even when you’ve been part of someone else’s plan.”

Mel smiled, bringing Helen’s hand to her lips. “Well, it helped that I had you by my side,” she said. “It makes everything better.”

Epilogue

The late afternoon sun slanted through Diane’s kitchen windows as Helen watched her eldest daughter move effortlessly between stovetop and counter, stirring a pot of sauce while directing her children in setting the table. The familiar domestic scene made Helen’s heart swell, especially when she caught sight of Mel helping fifteen-year-old Michael arrange the silverware just so.

“Mom,” Diane called from the stove. “Can you taste this and tell me if it needs more basil?”

Helen moved to her daughter’s side, accepting the proffered spoon. The rich tomato sauce brought back memories of teaching Diane to cook so many years ago. “Perfect,” she said, squeezing Diane’s shoulder. “Though you haven’t needed my opinion on your cooking for a long time now.”

“I’ll always want your opinion,” Diane replied softly, then glanced toward Mel. “She seems to be fitting right in.”

Helen followed her daughter’s gaze. Mel had moved on to helping the twins, Emma and Jack, fold napkins into triangles. “She was nervous about tonight,” Helen said. “She wants so much for you all to like her.”

“Well, the twins already adore her,” Diane said, stirring the sauce. “And Sarah seems very intrigued by the fact that Mel is a retired police detective.”

As if summoned by her name, Sarah breezed into the kitchen, her long dark hair swinging. At eighteen, she carried herself with that particular young adult mix of confidence and uncertainty that Helen remembered well from raising her own daughters. “Mel’s teaching the twins how to make origami boats with the napkins,” she reported, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “Dad’s trying to learn too, but he’s pretty hopeless.”

“Hey,” Tom protested from the dining room. “I heard that.”

The easy laughter that followed warmed Helen’s heart. This was what she’d hoped for—her family and Mel blending naturally, creating new connections and memories.

“So,” Sarah said, perching on a kitchen stool. “Tell us more about Hawaii. Did you really see whales?”

Helen exchanged a quick glance with Mel, who had appeared in the kitchen doorway. “We did,” Helen confirmed. “They were magnificent. Breaching right next to our boat.”

“And what about the mysterious neighbor?” Michael called from the dining room. “The one Aunt Jenny said you were investigating?”

Helen’s eyes met Mel’s. She was happy when the woman’s voice remained casual. “Oh, that was nothing really. Just a misunderstanding about a missing laptop.”

“But Aunt Jenny said—” Sarah started, but Diane smoothly interrupted.

“Dinner’s ready! Everyone wash up and find your seats.”

As the children scattered, Mel touched Helen’s elbow. “You okay?” she asked softly. Helen nodded, understanding the deeper question.

They had agreed to keep the truth about Abramson’s story and their involvement in its release between themselves. “Perfect,” she replied, reaching for Mel’s hand and squeezing it gently.

Around the dinner table, conversation flowed easily. Tom asked Mel about her years on the force, showing genuine interest in her experiences. The twins peppered Helen with questions about snorkeling, their eyes wide when she described the colorful fish. Even Sarah seemed engaged, though she kept returning to hints about their mysterious neighbor. “But why was he acting so weird?” she pressed, twirling pasta around her fork. “If it was just about a laptop?”

Helen took a sip of water, buying time. “Sometimes people get very focused on their work,” she said carefully.

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