Heart of the Liliko'i by Dena Hankins

Author:Dena Hankins [Hankins, Dena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626395572
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2015-10-19T06:00:00+00:00

*

Kerala poured herself a second cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. She stared across the butcher block at Maitri, who sat fully dressed at the café table, talking nonsense.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll see. We don’t have to stay out long, but I need to get a present for Ravi’s dad. Also Sam and Theresa. I’m leaving tomorrow. I can’t go back empty-handed.”

Ravi appeared from the hallway and she gave him the look. Take this woman off my hands.

“I can take you later, Mom, but I have a video conference this morning.”

Kerala glared at him, but he spread his hands in apology.

Somehow, Maitri won. Kerala, an immovable object, had met a truly unstoppable force, and shopping two days after Christmas was no minor defeat.

Maitri had opened up during the course of her visit. The shared hangover had given them sympathy for each other. Losing to Ravi at cards gave them a common enemy. Everything boded well for a good relationship until this.

Once in town, Kerala directed her to the waterfront shops on Ali‘i Drive.

Two hours and twenty-five pounds of purchases later, Kerala dropped the shopping bags in the trunk of the car. “You bought every stupid touristy knick-knack and T-shirt they had on sale. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Maitri set her single bag in the trunk with the others. “I’m so happy about the coffee. Pure Kona coffee, grown by people who’ve been on the land as long as I’ve been alive.”

Kerala dropped into the passenger seat.

“Now, where are the department stores?”

Kerala groaned. She gave in to the inevitable and directed Maitri to the Big Island’s slim pickings. Gottschalks was packed.

“I need to pee.”

“Oh, but…” Maitri vibrated at the sale signs.

“You go ahead. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Exhausted, Kerala sat on the toilet and put her head in her hand. She needed a plan.

The person in the next stall opened the door, washed her hands, and left.

She stood to pull up her jeans. Someone entered and hesitated by the door for a moment.

The lights went out.

“Hey!” Kerala yelped as she buttoned and zipped. “Turn the lights back on!”

Silence greeted her demand and she heard the unmistakable sound of a deadbolt sliding into its mate. Irritation shifted to alertness.

In the dark, locked in, alone with someone who wasn’t talking. Adrenaline and focus sharpened her hearing. A rubber-soled shoe slid across the cheap linoleum, maybe a few inches, not far.

“Kerala Rosemont, I know you’re in here. You have to stop. You can’t start work on the Kohala land. You’re close to the owner. Talk him out of building that house.”

The guy’s voice was stilted, like he was disguising it. The door of the next stall over swung open. Kerala didn’t know what he intended, but this was the same cowardly type of behavior as trying to hit someone with a car.

This time, she would be the one to draw blood.

Retribution or self-defense. She didn’t give a fuck.

In complete silence, she slid back the bar on her stall’s door. She straddled the toilet and brought up the camera on her phone.

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