Touch of Betrayal, A (12 page)

I huffed out an annoyed sigh, reached for a cluster of purple flowers hanging from a huge bougainvillea, and stroked the velvet petals with my fingertips—careful to avoid the hidden thorns. When in doubt, always trust the ESP fingers.

Sure enough, I could get in, only the directions looked more like a tapestry of knotted threads than a highlighted path. It would be dumb to try and push through the heavy growth of plants blocking my way. I’d end up with enough scratches and gashes to rival an abstract artist’s worst day. There had to be an easy way past this barricade.

I wandered along the edge of the property, focusing on the ground as I hunted for something, anything, that looked out of place, until the top of my head bumped smack into a neighbor’s fence.

“Ouch.” It sounded like a curse, all wrong against the quiet of the late tropical morning. Heaving out another sigh, I tipped my head back and scanned the clouds. “A clue would be good here,” I mumbled to whatever gods and goddesses were in charge of impregnable foliage. My grandmother had done a much better job of leaving images around her homestead for easy ESP fingertip access. Grandfather had a lot to learn about subliminal image communication.

My pocket vibrated. “Thank you for the timely distraction that may well keep me from insanity,” I said, unzipping my pocket and palming my cell. Gray letters flashed at me from a talk bubble. Mitch. Not so much sanity-saving as insanity-inciting. But at least it provided a break from Aukele’s puzzling mini jungle.

Arrival tomorrow. You at Annie’s?

Would I still be at Annie’s, or did I want to move myself to a beachfront hotel on Waikiki? Tempting. But a move would probably backfire. One of the Terrible Trio would knock me out and insert a tracking device under my skin if I moved out of Annie’s house. Or worse, they’d take turns hanging out in my hotel room. If I stayed at Annie’s, they’d think they had me contained.

Best place since I have a dedicated room with my stuff—I paused, discarding a horde of sarcastic words—and Maddie to play with.

Pleased with the message, I punched Send. There’s nothing like the innocence of a child to conceal a grownup game of hide-the-panic-until-I-see-the-truth-in-your-eyes. I shoved the phone back in my pocket, and took another look at the sky.

Billowing clouds floated carelessly against the expanse, as though someone had rolled a handful of cotton balls across the pale blue surface. I followed the line of fluffy stepping-stones to the end, and then dropped my line of sight down to a break in the top of the foliage.

Spotting a barely noticeable dip of about six inches in the canopy of leaves overhead, I hurried toward it. I had to beat the breeze before it shifted and moved the clouds off course. That miniscule dip in the shrubbery would be hard to spot without a landmark.

When I came in line with the general area, I backed up to get a wider perspective but couldn’t see any change in the density of the plants. Still, it had to be about the right place. I ran an imaginary plumb line from the cloud to the shrubbery, and then brushed my hands over the leaves directly underneath.

One of the branches gave way, and separated from the others, leaving a small gap. I pushed my arm through, opening it a few inches wider, and stuck my head into the space.

Not my smartest move. The position bent me into an awkward arrangement with my backside and legs hanging out from between the jaws of some damned voracious plants, while my arms and head were stuck in a tangle of vines. I backed out, shook myself off, and assessed the situation.

Right place, wrong appendage.

I inched my right foot between a couple of vines so thick they could qualify as tree branches. They separated. I followed with my hip, arm, and finally my shoulder. Half of me, minus my head, was successfully buried inside the mini-jungle. I scooted a couple inches deeper, bringing my left foot and hip inside, then shot a sideways glance toward my goal.

Nothing but green met my gaze.

Sweat trickled along my hairline as a wave of claustrophobia threatened rational thought.

Don’t look, Everly. Just close your eyes, lead with your right arm, and step through this damn living wall.

Deep breath. The scent of flowers clogged my airways.

Push. Right arm, right leg, left leg, left arm…head.

Do not open your eyes.

My eyelids popped open. Couldn’t stop them.

Green. No way out. Claustrophobia smothered my tentative hold on reality.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and with a surge of determination thrust deeper. One foot. Two.

My right hand found empty space, and I heaved myself through the clinging vines and branches, landing on my hands and knees with a jarring thud.

“Damn it all to bloody blue blazes. That. Hurt.”

I sat back on my heels, taking stock of the situation. Dirt was ground into my knees and palms, one slippah had come off my foot and was partly stuck in the jungle, and a three-foot wide path opened in front of me. A maze. This wasn’t just a mass of shrubbery, but an actual maze.

Over the top of the foliage the upper level of my grandfather’s house was visible.

Interesting.

I hadn’t realized the house had two levels, or that a lanai opened off the kitchen. Not that surprising, since he’d never invited me beyond his living room.

A shot of adrenaline sped through my veins. Could he be hiding Millie and Harlan in plain sight, so to speak? A sneaky, cunning Kahuna, my grandfather. And that trick with the clouds was more like what I’d expect from a weather witch than a Hawaiian shaman. I stood, silent, searching the empty path in front of me. A mixture of fragrances greeted me. Flowers of course, but more pronounced was the heat bouncing off wooden houses, and the soap-scented clothes drying on a nearby line.

My nose twitched, suddenly tantalized by an undercurrent of mint lemonade. Oh, yeah. Grandfather lurked around here someplace. He used fresh fruit and spices for his unique take on beverages, and had always served some sort of fruit drink when I’d visited.

I rescued my slippah from the man-eating shrubbery, planted my feet solidly on the ground, and stepped onto the narrow path.

TWELVE

Gravel crunched under my flip-flops,
the sound over-loud in the confines of Kahuna Aukele’s backyard maze.
Slippahs, Everly. You’re in the islands, not on the mainland.
I figured scolding myself would keep my mind from sinking into oblivion as I trailed along the path, one step at a time. A contained peace permeated the maze that drained my doubt and determination, replacing it with an uncomfortable lethargy. Unexpected peace can be more unsettling than chaos.

A shudder slid under my skin. I shook it off. As I hiked through the maze, I kept one of my hands in contact with the plants lining the perimeter so my fingertips could build a mental map of how to get out. Entering the mini-jungle had been daunting, and I couldn’t chance getting lost if I had to make a quick exit. My plan: create a simple strategy to avoid potential escape issues. This was especially critical since the shrubbery arched over the path, allowing only an occasional hint of the sky to peek through.

Not that I didn’t appreciate relief from the intensity of the rays that had already turned my skin a faint pink, but the canopy made it impossible to gather logistical clues from the sun or clouds. Nope. There would be no orientation assistance from above while I was in here.

Dead ends. Tall walls. Confusing turns. My breath turned shallow. A line of sweat meandered down my back. I shivered—out of place in the intense heat of the day. Why hadn’t I insisted on getting a weapon from Annie? Or lifted one from Pierce?

“Because visiting your grandfather isn’t dangerous. It’s safe. Totally safe.” My words sounded lonely and labored in afternoon heat.

I followed the lingering scent of mint and lemons through the twists and turns of the maze until I came to an open area with a small glass table and several chairs. A pitcher of lemonade sat on a placemat. I fingered the fabric before I reached for one of two iced glasses flanking the pitcher. An image of my grandfather flashed on my internal monitor, brighter than my usual fingertip images. He had to be close, and probably watched me.

And no, he hadn’t poisoned the lemonade. Damn. I hated myself for checking, but there was the possibility this scenario had been arranged by someone other than Kahuna Aukele, and I couldn’t take a chance.

My tongue caught against the roof of my mouth, the sticky dryness blotting out everything else, so I poured myself a glass of the cool liquid before scanning the area for the real-life version of my grandfather. He had to have been here moments before I arrived, or the ice would have melted while I made my way through the maze.

I gulped a mouthful of lemonade, barely taking time to taste it, and then wandered to the edge of the… I wasn’t sure what to call it. Clearing, maybe. The cozy spot probably marked the center of the labyrinth. Three paths led away from where I stood, all of them connected to different segments of the twisty maze.

Still no sign of my grandfather.

My eyes drifted closed as I tipped the glass for another swallow. This time I allowed the liquid to flow over my tongue so I could savor the sharp, refreshing mix of lemons and mint, and to breathe in the lethargy of the warmth and quiet surrounding me.

My neck itched. Too quiet. Too peaceful.

“Welcome, Granddaughter.” Grandfather’s voice shivered over my skin with Kahuna magic.

I stepped forward, setting my glass on the table, and then turned to face him. Tan, wrinkled skin, intelligent dark eyes, my height, but with a calm that was commanding. My heart fluttered. It was definitely good to see him again, but I wasn’t in a cordial mood. Not after the news from Annie and Pierce, and then making my way through the maze. Besides, sweating makes me fractious.

“What have you done with Millie and Harlan?” My tone sounded harsh in the peaceful setting, and a moment of remorse built in my chest. It was not the way I’d planned to greet my grandfather.

The Kahuna took his time pouring a glass of lemonade, his hands steady. “Yes. I understand you have many questions.”

I breathed out a sigh. “Hello, Kahuna Aukele. Grandfather. Thank you for leading me to your sanctuary. You could have made the experience a bit easier though.” I deliberately brushed at the dirt stains on my right knee.

He dipped his chin in a slight bow, and then hugged me. His touch held profound peace, something I’d had way too little of lately. I absorbed it through my skin, and sent gratitude back to this man who shared the gift of love unconditionally. No matter what. The complex scent from the many plants surrounding us clung to him. I inhaled deeply, allowing the magic to wash over my frayed nerves. Dangerous, considering I needed every brain cell to be working at peak performance if I wanted to get Millie, Harlan, and myself out of this situation. And Mitch, but that was entirely different.

Grandfather released me and backed away. “Please sit.”

I settled in a chair, suddenly exhausted from battling conflicting emotions and fighting off whatever trace of drugs still ran through my veins. I didn’t want to be rude, but seriously, this wasn’t a social visit. “Millie and Harlan?”

Irritation scraped along my nerves. Although I loved him dearly, I’d managed to forget how very annoying a Kahuna could be while in teaching mode. “How did you get them out of the hospital, and what have you done with them, Grandfather?”

His eyes twinkled. “People see what they expect to see, and distraction is powerful when used wisely.”

An image flickered on my internal monitor, and I grinned. “So you shifted the energy just enough to send a breeze over the nurse’s station, rustled a bunch of papers, and slipped in while the staff was busy. It’s a neat trick, being able to slide your physical structure between the air molecules, and make yourself practically invisible. When are you going to teach me that one?”

Grandfather tapped his index finger against his temple. “It’s all in your mind, Granddaughter, ready for you to access whenever you choose.”

Talk about an unsatisfactory answer. But then, most of his shamanic wisdom was shrouded in a touch of the mysterious. I’d slowly learned to work through it, or around it, whichever gave me the least grief. “Looks like Harlan kept them busy with questions while you wheeled Millie out of the burn unit. I get how that worked, but what have you done with them?”

“Kept them safe.” One long swallow of lemonade later, he met my gaze and some of the light faded from his eyes. “You’ve learned some truths about Mitchell. I’m sorry for that.”

Sorry
? A ripple of unease cascaded along my spine. How did he know? Had he read my mind? My aura? No matter, the intrusion into my personal space was the same. It was irrelevant how he did it. “Mitch is involved with Millie and Harlan?” My voice thinned with every word, and the ugly seeds of betrayal took root in my gut.

“Millie is healing well physically, but her psyche is as damaged as yours, my Granddaughter.”

What? How did that relate to Mitch? And me? It took a minute for me to regroup and shove all reference to my shredded emotions out of my mind. Aukele had used distraction to shift me off topic. I ran my finger down the condensation on the lemonade glass. “So, you’re keeping Millie safe, then? Have you healed her burns?”