Page 30 of Forgotten Promise

“Then how about I sit in front?” Benjamin eyed him.

John winced internally, realizing that despite all his wealth and power, Benjamin was a black man, and police interaction—even if it was getting a ride in a cop car—would feel different for him.

“If you want to, you can,” John said, because he wasn’t an asshole. “But that would be significantly less amusing for me.”

Benjamin’s serious expression melted into a surprised smile. Then he shook his head and with an exaggerated sigh, slid into the backseat. John shut the door before circling around and climbing into the passenger seat.

“Buckle up, it’s the law,” the officer said.

Soon, they were on the 405 South, and despite it being nearly four in the morning, there was traffic. It was light compared to what they’d be up against during the day, so they were making good time. It helped that as cars spotted a cop in their rearview mirrors, they slid out of their way.

John turned in his seat. “I want the two of you to think about what you’ve done.” He used his best scolding voice.

Kailani grinned. “This is weirdly fun. People keep looking at us.”

“The windows are heavily tinted, so they can’t see you, ma’am,” the officer said.

“Why is it sticky?” Benjamin’s pained expression made John smile, and Kailani outright laugh.

“Do you want me to answer that, sir?” the officer asked.

“I don’t know…do I?”

“Probably not.”

Benjamin cleared his throat. “I will be burning these clothes.” He sighed. “I expected to feel scared or stressed.”

It was an unexpected admission for the hyper-controlled Benjamin, and John stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt this admission.

“Instead, I just feel…sticky.”

Kailani dissolved into laughter. Benjamin looked at her, his expression soft and pleased.

In record time, they were pulling up outside John’s small Craftsman in Culver City. It had been in good shape when the Trinity Masters, via some made-up grant, helped him buy it. He’d protested he didn’t need it but had been told by the head of the foundation supplying the grant, aka a Trinity Masters member, that renting left him vulnerable to manipulation, and the Trinity Masters intended to protect him from that.

It was large by Culver City Craftsman standards, just under two thousand square feet. He’d bought it from the son of the original owner, so almost everything in the place was original. He didn’t know shit about maintaining a home, let alone an historic one, but he was learning. When he bought it, there were spots on the outside where the paint was peeling, so the first major improvement was to repaint the whole thing.

Rather than just picking a color, he’d gone on several architectural tours, attended lectures, and even done some volunteer security work for the L.A. Conservancy in exchange for help selecting the exact right shades of green and yellow to match the historic Craftsman aesthetic.

The officer helped them unload the bags onto the sidewalk in front of his house. John watched Kailani and Benjamin as they studied his house. He felt a weird urge to apologize for his home, despite the fact that he’d never imagined he would actually own a home in L.A.

He picked up his own bag in one hand and headed up the bush-lined walkway. His porch was three steps up and deep enough that he could have put a full-sized table and chairs there. His door was dark wood with a small inset glass window and framed by wide trim painted a yellowy-orange color. Calling it either yellow or orange didn’t do it justice, he’d been told. The official name was Rockwood Amber.

John swallowed the urge to tell them this, to explain about the paint just to fill the silence.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding it open for first Kailani, and then Benjamin.

“I want to check in with Makani,” Kailani said. “I texted him, but I want to call.”

“Did you hear back from the other keyholders?” Benjamin asked.

“No.” Kailani looked worried.

“You can use my home office.”

John pointed to a narrow interior door with a stained glass panel depicting a California Live Oak. The room on the other side was cozy, with a large picture window that faced the porch. He had a desk in there, but he always kept his papers tidy, so he wasn’t worried about a mess.

Kailani slipped in, closing the door behind herself.

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