HIGH TIDE (27 page)

“You can’t put them there.” Naoki demanded.

“Why not?” Kathy challenged.

Setting down the cooler full of soda cans directly beside the gas grill, Kathy rubbed her biceps.

“Nobody’s even
going to find them there,” he argued. “I’ll take them over to the bar by the fountain.”

Naoki watched Kathy’s fingers massage her bare arms, and swallowed. “You should’ve just brought out the plates
, anyway. I could have carried the cooler.”

“I’m not going to stand around idle while you single-handedly arrange this entire event.”

Naoki snorted. “Not hardly. Bree was out here before the sun rose this morning. She was setting up chairs, tables, umbrellas—she even strung ribbons and balloons down the street to guide people to the party. It took a lot of cajoling to get her to hire a bartender or else she’d be back there pouring shots too.”

He eyed the sky. “I hope for her sake the weather holds out.”

“It
has
to.” Kathy laid cooking utensils atop the closed grill. “How she could pull this all together after spending most of last night with the police—I don’t know how she managed.”

There were tiny blue smudges beneath Kathy’s pale eyes that made Naoki believe that no one was exempt from the scrutiny last night. But it was over.

Over.

That word conjured up an image of Joy’s limp body as he caught a glimpse of it being loaded into the Coroner’s van. There was a mutinous stab of guilt that he should have known what she was hiding, that he could have prevented her demise, but it was a futile, tortured
notion. He didn’t know Joy at all.

“Bree’s going to be exhausted by the end of the day.”

Naoki jarred from his reverie. “Maybe, but this Open House ceremony is something she’s worked at for a long time. It’s not just the party—it’s the fact that anyone who is
anyone
is going to be here today.” He enumerated. “The Governor, the press, and most importantly to Bree, Moku Land Inc.’s CEO will be here from the mainland. This is her moment to shine—”

He yanked his glasses off and searched the cul-de-sac.

“She’s an amazing woman.” Kathy whispered reverently.

Naoki dropped the frames back down on his nose and smiled.

“Don’t worry, she’ll teach us everything.  And someday Miss Bishop, you and I will be standing on our own lot, hosting the elite of Honolulu.”

Soft pink lips lifted, brightening Kathy’s face. In that instant, Naoki came to the startling conclusion that she wa
s beautiful.

Instead of admitting that, though, he dredged up his business
facade. “Now, let me get that cooler.” He stooped to wrap his arms around the bulky container.

“No, I’ll get it—” Kathy crouched down and smacked her forehead against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Instantly, he reached for her arms as they rose together.

Naoki searched the luminous pools of Kathy’s eyes as he maintained his grip on her arms. Ever so gently, his fingers traced along flesh warmed by the sun, until without thought he reached for her waist.

“Kathy,” he whispered.

“Naoki,” she murmured.

From deep in his shirt pocket the shrill ring of the
Tarantella
erupted. The sound jolted them apart. Naoki fumbled for the blaring device, ready to hurl it into the fountain and watch the water flood its cellular brain.

“
Yeah
?” he barked.

“Grandson. I thought we talked about your conduct on the phone.”

His shoulders slumped.
That’s it.
He would never have a normal life. His personal existence simply did not fit into Keito Takanawa’s schedule.

“I’m busy.” Striving not to sound desperate, and trying to maintain composure in front of the large eyes that traced his face, Naoki cleared his throat. “Today’s the Open House, you know.”

“Of course I know, and you two were up with that whole mess way too late last night. Couldn’t you have postponed this party?”

“The
Governor
is coming—you don’t
reschedule
the Governor.” To his horror Kathy chuckled behind her hand. Naoki felt the blood rise up his neck.

“I need you to pick up my checks. They’re waiting for me at the bank. And while you’re there, pick up a handful of those—deposit slips—and—”

“Grandmother, I have to go.”

“You don’t have a few minutes in your busy schedule to spend time talking to me?”

Naoki responded to that admonishing tone as he always did, with a sigh and a smile from the heart. “Of course I do. I’ll probably get a break around lunch—I’ll pick them up then.”

Naoki searched Kathy’s eyes, and with a slight lift of his brow offered a silent invitation for her to join him. Her timid smile and quick nod made his stomach flip.

  ***

A pen behind her ear and another poised in her hand, Briana balanced a clipboard, a stack of brochures,
and a plastic bag of Styrofoam cups all in one arm. Desperate, she sought out the closest folding table and dropped the collection. Because her watch had spun completely around her wrist, Briana angled her arm awkwardly to look at the time. She blew a puff of air up at bangs that tumbled loose from the clip which contained her hair in a loose knot.

Scanning the grounds of
Manale Palms,
she was amazed to have pulled it off. Rows of white foldout chairs sat before an elevated podium, its base decorated with silk flowers, a donation from the shop owner in Pearl City. Atop the platform stood a pedestal flanked on both sides by miniature potted coconut palms, their gentle arcs subliminally directing the audience to the speaker. Beyond the podium, at intervals along the winding sidewalk, sat kiosks loaded with brochures, promotional items and blueprints of the Kona venture.

Standing before one of these booths, Briana watched the stream of cars pull into the guest parking lot. Some ventured down the paved road deep into the heart of the complex for a quick visual tour.

Turning around to search for any sign of Nick, she craved that final bolt of confidence that only he could provide. There were a couple familiar faces strolling along the walkway and milling in groups near the model, but none bore his distinct, rugged frame.

To stand here and assimilate the events of last night would make her head spin when she could not afford such an imbalance. Despite mutual protests, Nick was pried away from her, the police preferring individual debriefings. Once the USGS cornered Nick, she could find no way to infiltrate their stockade, and by the time everyone was cleared to go, the
Pali
was tinged with the pink hue of a new dawn. There was just enough time to catch a shower and make it back here to set everything up.

She missed him
.

It was such an overpowering sensation
.  This need to be with Nick was so intense that it undermined her concentration. She didn’t know whether to be elated at the emotion or skeptical at the loss of control.

There was little time for analysis though as she observed
Moku Land Inc.’s black Lincoln pull into the lot. She recognized the white-haired man emerging from the back seat as the CEO, the single person who could make or break her career. Quickly, she grabbed a brochure to occupy her hands, and conceal the fact that they shook.

***
  

For several minutes he lingered back amidst the trees and simply indulged in watching her. Briana sought professionalism in her ensemble, but Nick thought she looked sexy as hell.
Dressed in a tapered russet skirt with a fawn-colored sleeveless blouse, her hair was restrained in a soft flip at the base of her neck, yet the strands were too silky to be confined and slipped loose to dust across blushed cheeks.

Nick winced at the ferocity with which she clutched the brochure in her hand. There was obvious tension in her stance, but the bright smile was genuine as she greeted guests and associates. That smile made his own lips curl up as he started towards her.

***   

“Thirty
-five lots are going in at Kona. Eighteen of them have already been sold. The landscaping costs are going to be phenomenal. We basically had to carve the property out of a lava bed, but in the end it will be worth it.”

“Then how are you going to manage to keep the pricing down for locals if there are such exorbitant development costs?”

Warily studying the approach of Walter Davis, the CEO as he paused to shake hands with members of the Community Development Authority, Briana returned her focus to the robust woman from the Star-Advertiser that was firing off questions.

“Just as in the case of
Manale Palms
, the land was acquired in auction, and was so economical that any additional costs simply offset the initial savings. The lots will come in very close to these in price—” Her back went rigid. Briana felt him behind her. There was no contact, no sound, but she knew Nick was there, and her body trembled in response.

“But—” The realtor with the plunging neckline continued to chatter, yet the words were only distant echoes.
 What Briana
did
hear was the husky whisper against her ear, “
I want you
.”

“Excuse me?” Briana forced herself to concentrate on the woman before her. “Oh, great, yes I can definitely arrange for you to visit the property on the Big Island. Thank you Ms. Brown, thank you for stopping by today.”

Briana watched the stout woman in unnaturally high pumps shuffle off, but still she did not turn around. She felt Nick’s hands slip about her waist and willingly settled back against him.

“God, you feel good.”
He breathed against the flesh at the base of her neck. His lips brushed rhythmically across the sensitive skin as she trembled.

“Nick.”

“I know.” He raised his head. “You’re not going to appear too professional with me ravaging you in front of a group of dignitaries.”

“No,” Briana breathed, picturing the image. “
I want you too
.”

Nick growled and Briana felt him hard behind her.

“Mr. Davis, how are you, sir?”
Was that high-pitched voice really hers?

“Briana.” The extended hand was tan and bore several gold rings along with an engraved bracelet.
“Excellent job.  The
Palms
looks wonderful. Thank God you cleared up that mess with the fish.”

The CEO’s incisive blue eyes searched past her shoulder, and the hand thrust forward again. “Good morning. Walter Davis. I don’t think we’ve met—”

***

Nick returned the grip with a firm shake, trying to disregard the fact that Briana’s perfect bottom was still nestled against him. “Nick McCord.”

As if it were his place to know everyone that was here today, Walter Davis nodded in calculation. “Ah yes, USGS. I understand we are indebted to you, sir.”

With a bracing breath, Nick felt it was safe to step out from behind Briana. “If there is anyone here for you to be indebted to, it would be Ms. Holt.”

The old man’s response was a swift heft of a white eyebrow, and then a renewed perusal of Briana. “Is that so?”

“The USGS has already given
Manale Palms
a commendation for the well-structured seawall that protected this property. Not to mention Miss Holt’s personal involvement in the apprehension of a team of illegal offshore dredgers.”

***

Listening to them, Briana’s gaze nonetheless drifted to the ocean. Today it was like a mellow turquoise lake—so innocent. It was not a black void filled with fire, bodies, and nightmares like last night. In the chaos of the explosion they had presumed that the lifeless figures in the water were indeed just that. Keo and Nick hauled the trawler’s crew onto the deck of the
Inquiry
and were able to resuscitate nearly every one of them.

Only Joy didn’t make it.

Briana’s head dipped down, and for just a heartbeat her composure waned. Itching to reach for the brochure, she instead flexed her fingers, raised her head and met Walter Davis’ dissecting stare.

“Mr. McCord is being modest,” she injected. “If it were not for his presence and the use of the USGS research vessel we could have never stopped them.
Ignorant in what they were working with, the amount of explosives they intended to use on the ocean floor could have incited a wave large enough to harm residents along the Windward Coast. We’re all very lucky, sir.”

Impressed, but used to everything working out in his favor, Walter Davis inclined his head and noticed the posh white limousine pulling up to the sidewalk.

“Yes, well, excellent work to both of you. Now Briana, the Governor is here, is everything ready?”

“Yes sir. The sound crew has the microphones all wired on the podium, there’s going to be a live feed to KHAL.”

“Excellent. Excellent publicity. Mr. McCord, it was a pleasure meeting you.”