Page 35 of Forgotten Promise

John suddenly regretted not making more effort to attend Trinity Masters meetings and galas. He had used the connections afforded him through the society, but only those close to home that would have an impact on the cases he was trying to solve.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to ask Preston,” John said.

Neither Carly nor Lance seemed appeased by that response.

“You’re Carly Kenan, aren’t you?” Benjamin asked.

Carly nodded.

“I’m a huge fan of your games,” he said to her. “Can’t tell you how many all-nighters I had to spend in college, completing assignments, because I squandered the days and weeks preceding playing End Times. My buddies and I were addicted to it…the role-playing, the off-the-chain graphics. When I look back, I figure it was a miracle I managed to graduate on time.”

John wasn’t sure what exactly End Times was, though he’d heard of it from other officers at the precinct. Video games hadn’t been a part of his childhood, and by the time he reached adulthood, he had a career and wasn’t interested in playing catch-up on them, just so he could hang out online with some guys from work for gaming nights. Regardless, he appreciated Benjamin’s not-quite-too-obvious attempt at distraction.

Carly grinned half-heartedly, clearly distracted as she looked over her shoulder at the closed door to the room Preston and Kailani had escaped to.

“I hear that a lot,” she said, not adding more. So much for distraction.

Meanwhile, Lance remained silent, his arms crossed, glaring at them in such a way John might have felt threatened if he wasn’t used to employing the same technique. Lance’s entire demeanor screamed military. If John had to guess, he’d go with former Marine. There was something about the upright way Lance stood, the tight way he held himself. What’s more, Lance kept placing himself just slightly in front of Carly, even though she’d already made a couple subtle steps to move back to his side.

Benjamin cast a sideways glance at John as the silence slipped well into the awkward range.

John decided it was his turn to take a stab at dispelling the tension. “Something smells wonderful,” he observed, not lying. He wasn’t sure what they were baking, but his mouth had been watering since they walked into the house. They’d eaten on the plane, but not since then, and his stomach was telling him it was breakfast time.

He expected Carly to comment, so he was surprised when Lance unfolded his arms, a huge grin covering his face. “Homemade cinnamon rolls. My own recipe. We were just about to have some with coffee.”

Carly stepped next to her husband and slid her arm through Lance’s affectionately. “Lance is the world’s greatest when it comes to baking.”

Lance gave her a sweet kiss on the side of her head. “I think you’re biased, babe. Biased, but not wrong.”

The two of them laughed easily, and just like that, the tension was broken.

“There’s plenty if you want to join us.” Lance gestured toward what John assumed was the kitchen, the rest of them following him toward the delicious smells emanating from there.

Benjamin walked next to him, giving him a subtle shoulder bump in silent approval for his success in breaking the tension.

Upon entering the kitchen, Carly set about pouring them all coffee, asking him and Benjamin if they preferred sugar and cream, while Lance, who’d donned an apron that said, “I bake because punching people is frowned upon,” plated up the most mouthwatering cinnamon rolls John had ever seen.

Once they were all served, they sat around one end of what he supposed was the kitchen table, though it was a part of the massive, long kitchen island. Everything in the kitchen was glossy and white, but it still felt homey rather than sterile. Behind and beside them, a corner where two glass walls met offered a panoramic view of the ocean.

“So,” Carly began, and John braced himself, afraid she was going to ask them why they were there. Which meant he was surprised when she asked, “Are the three of you a trinity?”

Well, hell. He didn’t have an answer for that question either.

* * *

Kailani stepped into the small home office with a view of the steep hills of the Malibu canyons. When she heard the door close, she turned to Preston.

“Keyholder,” she said softly.

“Yes.” Preston shook his head in disbelief. “It’s real? And it’s…happening? Wait, did you text me last night?”

Kailani nodded. “We’ve been activated. I opened the first door to get the names. You’re my first stop.”

“Why have we been activated?” Preston asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. But something did, which means we need to get back to the waihona as fast as possible.”

“Waihona,” he repeated the word slowly. “Is that a Hawaiian word?”

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