Page 73 of Forgotten Promise

“No. Well, yes, but all three keys have to be in.” Kailani tried to draw from the other woman’s energy, her confidence. “Even the right key won’t turn in the top lock unless the other keys are also in place.”

“We’ll try your key in the top spot first,” Preston said.

“It would make the most sense for it to be you,” Selene agreed.

Kailani stepped forward, placing her own key in the top lock. She wanted this over with. One way or the other.

She waited as Preston and Selene put their keys in the bottom two locks, and then she held her breath. The three of them turned the keys and…

Nothing.

Her key didn’t move.

It wasn’t her.

She blew out a long, slow sigh, hoping the other two didn’t notice, then she turned her head, blinking rapidly several times to bat away tears. She wasn’t a crier. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt as if every emotion—the confusion, anger, fear, anxiety, sadness—that had been battering her over the past two days was suddenly demanding to be released.

She swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears fall. She wasn’t sure how Selene and Preston felt about stepping up as acting Grand Master, but if they were as stressed out about it as she had been, it wouldn’t be fair to act relieved.

Which she was.

The brief moment of weakness passed quickly, mercifully, so that when she faced them again, she was able to give them some semblance of calm.

“Not it,” she said, briefly touching the tip of her nose, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

“And then there were two,” Selene murmured.

* * *

Lachlan set down the toolbox. It thunked, the table groaning. John looked up from the list of construction workers that Makani had provided. The crew that had been on-site working today—unlike normal construction crews that stopped at a normal quitting time—was still there. The Hale’ekolu construction had been going nearly around the clock in order to complete renovations as fast as possible, so it had been a relatively simple task to sequester the crew in a staff area of the hotel. The company owner, as well as anyone else who’d worked at the Hale’ekolu, had been called and were on their way in.

While Makani rounded people up, and John planned who to question first, Lachlan had decided to do a little recon, including breaking into the construction vehicles parked in a designated section of the hotel’s underground garage. And he’d found what he was looking for…or at least some of it.

“What’s that?” John asked him.

“Found it in one of the cars. A gray truck.” Lachlan rattled off the plate number. Makani wrote it down and then went to a computer he’d balanced on top of a rolling catering cart in the hallway they were using as a makeshift command post.

John walked over, and Lachlan undid the latches on the box, opening it. He lifted out the upper tray, which held a messy assortment of vises, colored tape, and pliers.

John stared down at the gold bars hidden in the bottom of the toolbox.

“Four,” John counted. “Any more in the truck?”

“Not that I could find, but I didn’t take the panels off or rip up the seats.”

John’s brows rose. “Where was this?”

“In the cab.”

“And the cab was unlocked?”

“No.”

“You broke in?” John winced. “We won’t be able to use this evidence, it’s fruit of the…” John trailed off.

Fruit of the poisoned tree was a legal term. The man was thinking like a cop. It made sense, since he was a cop, but they wouldn’t be worrying about evidence and making a case. Lachlan would serve as ultimate judge, jury, and, if needed, executioner.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on turning this guy over to the police,” Lachlan told the other man.

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