“Wrong time, wrong place.” A grunt as he lifted the pot from the sink cut short his sad reply. He hefted it onto the industrial stovetop. “Cops thought he was part of a deal going down. Ryder is still looking for Kale, and he ain’t gonna stop till he finds him. With the rumor about Kale having business in Kalihi, Ryder’s afraid, man, and I can’t blame him. Kale might be in with some bad folks. Real trouble. Like he ain’t in enough as it is.”
“What do you think, Hani? Where’s your gut on this?”
Emily didn’t know why the respect in Boston’s tone should cause her to gawk suddenly at the back of his head. Probably because she figured respect was something he doled out sparingly. What would it take for her to earn it? She silently snorted and hummed the Mission Impossible jingle in her head.
Hani stirred the rice and water together with his big wooden spoon and didn’t glance up. “I dunno, man. If you’re Kale, what do you think? Family’s a strange thing, ain’t it? Ryder wants to help, but could be his idea of help ain’t what’s Kale’s. Ryder might think turning him over to the base is the best thing for him. I can’t say I blame the kid for running.”
To the base.
Emily blinked. They were harboring an AWOL soldier? Were they insane?
Boston sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. We got us a runaway homeless kid and a family member with mysterious motives. What exactly do you expect me to do about it, Hani? How am I supposed to track down a kid who doesn’t want to be found?”
Hani stopped his stirring and pointed the wooden spoon at Boston. His eyebrows went up, and he waggled the spoon, sending flecks of water into the air. “Don’t do that, Bos. The people who come in here trust you, man. They know you ain’t about to do that kid dirty. If you’re asking, it’s ’cause you’re gonna help. It ain’t like there’s a whole lot of places for a guy like Kale to hide, right? See, Ryder’s coming back here, and he ain’t leaving till his cousin comes back, which means—”
“Kale won’t return so long as there’s a chance Ryder might turn him in.”
“Exactly, and by now, Kale will have heard Ryder’s been looking for him….” Hani’s voice came to a slow halt as both he and Boston realized Emily had been the one to speak.
They appeared to have forgotten she sat there listening to the whole exchange.
She shrunk under their scrutiny. “Sorry.”
Boston gave her a hard, fearful stare.
“I’m not going to tell anyone.” She tried to keep the defensiveness from her voice.
He had no cause to trust her, of course, but it still stuck like a burr to her sense of pride. Just because she’d never harbor a fugitive didn’t mean she’d run to tattle to the first officer she saw.
Hani smiled at her. “He knows. He’s just an ass.”
Boston turned away from her. He put one hand on his hip. The other ran across his smooth jaw. “So, we have a new guest. I’m assuming Ryder intends to take Kale’s bed till we find the kid, then?”
“You’d be correct in your assumption.” From the hallway beyond the three of them, a tall man with black gelled-back hair and clean-shaven face strode into the kitchen like he owned it. He wore a clean white dress shirt, though wrinkled, and slate gray slacks with shiny loafers gleaming beneath the tailored hems.
Emily immediately recognized him.
Not by name, of course. She’d never met him before. But she knew men like this. Ryder was a powerful man—the kind of man who had the authority to walk into a room and command it based on his intrinsic belief it was his to command.
She stood, refusing to smooth her hair or give any indication she lacked for self-assuredness, confident introductions would be made.
Her confidence was ill-placed. They were not. She berated herself for forgetting she’d left nice society back at LAX.
Ryder, however, followed etiquette protocol. He greeted Hani with a friendly nod, shook Boston’s hand with a short introduction of himself, and turned to her. Custom dictated women made the call regarding handshakes. She’d decide to offer or not, but a man never did.
Emily held out her hand. “Emily Buzzly. Nice to meet you.” She’d decided to drop the Cobb ever since seeing her full name spelled out on Boston’s card at the airport. It was a ridiculous name to begin with, and her name change would be legal in a matter of weeks, anyhow.
“Ryder Chastain.” He smiled in a knowing fashion, as though they were alone in some shared secret. He recognized her, too. “Likewise.”
Emily breathed a little easier with Ryder in the room. He didn’t intimidate her like he might some others with his assumption of authority. Quite the opposite. He granted her a reprieve from feeling so terribly out of place.
He returned his attention to Hani and Boston with an expression of expectation. He slid his hands—smooth hands, like Boston had said—into the front pockets of his slacks. They were wrinkled, too, but Emily wouldn’t hold that against a man who’d spent last night behind bars.
“What’s the plan to find my cousin? He’s been living here, correct? Mr. Palakiko here doesn’t seem to have any clues, but perhaps you do, Mr.…”
Why Emily had expected Boston, of all people, to cringe or bow under Ryder’s weighty tone, who knew. She was a slow learner, maybe.
Boston did neither. He slid his hands into his pockets, perfectly mimicking Ryder’s authoritative stance, despite practically wearing rags by comparison. He appeared one part irritated and one part nonchalant. As if Ryder was an annoying fly he was almost too lazy to swat at. “Plans aren’t my thing,” he answered in a bored tone. “Plus, I’m not convinced this is my problem. I don’t run a daycare. My concern runs more toward filling the empty bed I’ve got upstairs.” He examined Ryder up and down, judging and condemning in a glance. Then he smirked. “You can have it, but you’ll work for it.” In the very next instant, giving Ryder no chance to reply, Boston whipped toward Hani as though the conversation was over. “Didn’t you say I had a message from Jordan?”
Ryder’s mouth formed a tight, thin line, but he seemed accepting rather than indignant. He rolled his shoulders as if to gather himself and responded before Hani had time to answer Boston’s question. “You can’t ignore your job for a week and expect to keep it. This search for Kale has cost me my income and more. I’d appreciate the bed, and I’m not afraid to help in any way I can.”
Boston slowly turned around and offered Ryder a bland smile. “I’m glad. Because there are others who’d jump at the opportunity to have a bed to sleep in tonight—and have far more need of it than you.”
Emily put a hand on Ryder’s shoulder, both in an effort to comfort him and get his attention.
Boston’s gaze snapped to where her hand rested.
She ignored him. “Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee, Mr. Chastain? I think perhaps Boston and Hani need a minute to confer, though I’m sure they can help.” She gave her guide a sidelong glare, knowing full well he’d read it loud and clear. You’re being an ass. She smiled at Ryder. “I’d like to hear more about Kale.”
Deep brown eyes lined with long, dark lashes zoned in on her. Ryder pressed his lips together while he searched her face. Finally, he exhaled and offered her a small smile in return. “I can’t say I’m in a position to turn down free coffee. I’d like that very much.”
On their way out, Emily caught Boston’s gaze. “After coffee, I’ll get a cab and find accommodations. Tomorrow, I’ll stop by and let you know where I’m staying.”
Ryder waited for her at the end of the hallway with his hands still deep in his pockets. Relaxed but powerful. Like a lion at rest.
Before reaching him, Emily regarded Hani and Boston one last time with a glimpse over her shoulder. She caught Boston’s smirk and halfhearted eye roll. The response hardly puzzled her. It must look like she’d found the missing piece to a matching set. No, it didn’t mystify her at all.
Hani’s drawn expression of concern, howev
er, made her wonder if she’d been rash in leaving her guide for the company of a perfect stranger.
Chapter 5
Emily didn’t know where they were, let alone where she intended to purchase Ryder the promised cup of coffee.
At least she’d freed Boston to address his message from Jordan, whom Emily had to assume was a girlfriend. Boston’s sun-kissed long locks didn’t do it for her, but some other woman with less discerning tastes and lower standards might find him attractive.
Okay, lower seemed kind of rude even for her. Merely different standards.
Emily peeked at Ryder as he checked the street for traffic before crossing. She realized he’d taken the lead without her notice. She followed.
Familiar, if unknown, company beat hanging out with Boston. He made her unsure of herself and the ground shaky. He challenged her honed instincts and deep-rooted opinions of things. Like homelessness. And charity.
Ryder didn’t seem the charitable type, but thoughtful enough. He paused for her to catch up with a slight lift of his lip that might’ve been a grin. “I’ve worked downtown for years. There’s a nice little coffee shop not far from here. Closer to Alo Moana.” A few blocks later they entered a small café close to the outdoor mall Boston had mentioned.
She allowed him to order their drinks and waited for him to break the ice. He would, of course. Men like Ryder were leaders, and no leader waited for someone else to take the initiative.
His smile radiated relief. He folded his hands neatly in front of him on the small, round table. “Thanks for this. I’ve had a rough week.”
“I can only imagine.” In truth, she kind of could. Boston hadn’t made such a good start of her vacation. “Tell me about your cousin. I understand he’s…” Should she admit she had most of the story already? “Perhaps in some trouble.”
Kale’s plight genuinely interested her. She’d been in Ryder’s shoes once, interfering in her sister’s life with only the best intentions. Intent didn’t always dictate outcome, however.
What were Ryder’s intentions?
His smile disappeared, and his gaze darted toward the glass window with a view of the bustling street. “Who knows with Kale?” He groaned and crossed him arms. “He’s hiding from the Army. Definitely in trouble.”
She was no actress. “Oh. I see.”
Ryder didn’t seem to notice her lack of astonishment. “The whole family’s in knots. He’s homeless, lost, and confused. He needs help. I need to find him.”
She expected Ryder’s dark eyes to hold some fear or sadness, but she met his gaze and forced herself not to react to the hardness in his glare. It belied his worried sentiments. Of course, anger would be a perfectly acceptable emotion for him.
Emily understood that and much more. She sipped her coffee and swallowed. “Ryder, I know a little something about family in trouble.” She remembered Quinn three years ago, living abroad with a foreign film star, winding up on the front page of tabloids. “It’s easy to think we know best, but sometimes we don’t give our loved ones enough credit.”
Like trusting them to know where their heart is.
Emily bit her lip. Not much she could do about it now except try to pay it forward. She’d help Boston uncover what Ryder had planned for Kale.
Emily didn’t possess the skills of an interrogator or a player. She didn’t have much of an excuse for asking personal questions that might or might not render an answer—let alone promise a truthful one—but she had to try. “What happens when you locate your cousin?”
Ryder took his time studying her.
Tired of waiting, Emily shrugged and took a gamble. “I am, above all else, a law-abiding citizen.” She couldn’t act worth a damn, but reading people was a specialty.
A slight nod from Ryder made her stomach dip. He approved. Then he frowned and turned away. “I haven’t decided yet. I may not know what’s best for Kale, but my family has had more than enough heartache over his choices. Maybe it’s my place to get involved and force him into doing the right thing.”
Ryder was right. Kale’s actions were thoughtless, not to mention illegal.
So, why didn’t she agree with him?
* * * *
After coffee, Emily decided to go back to The Canopy. She’d rather get Boston’s opinion on nearby hotels before having a cabbie drive her around aimlessly while she looked up prices and vacancies on her phone.
Ryder offered to walk her with her. They arrived and she started up the crumbling steps into The Canopy but stopped when she noticed Ryder had fallen a step behind her.
He stared past her head, up and to the right. The small eave blocked her view of whatever point of interest had drawn his attention.
She waited. “What is it?”
He hesitated, peering at her through eyes squinted in consideration. “You need a place to stay, right?”
Hardly a secret. “For two weeks, yes.”
He pointed to what he’d been focused on, and Emily left the steps to see for herself.
Preposterous. The ability of speech left her. She gaped first at the “For Rent” sign, then at Ryder.
He had no trouble deciphering her unhinged jaw and wide eyes. He steadied his dark gaze on her and breathed in. “I’ll be frank, Emily. Hani, the cook”—he cocked his chin toward The Canopy’s withered front door—“has practically grown into the walls of this place. He can’t help me find Kale. It took me an entire week of asking around to get a single rumor out of the homeless community at Alo Moana park. Since my arrest, I’ve wondered if I wasn’t setup. Someone warning me off. I’m an outsider. No one’s going to talk to me, and I wouldn’t trust the information now even from some brave soul.” He issued a breathy, humorless laugh. “C’mon, look at me. I’m the enemy.”
Emily’s attire didn’t differ much from Ryder’s. “I’m not any better.”
“No, but Boston is. However, his primary concern has always been his clients. You take priority over Kale. I know it’s hardly fair to impose this way….” He left room for Emily to respond.
“You’re saying my vacation is something of an inconvenience for you?”
A one-shouldered shrug accompanied his earnest expression. She had to give him points for honesty. “I’m not suggesting you ditch Boston. Not at all. By all accounts, he’s one of the best. However, consider my take. If you’re nearby, Boston’s bound to spend more time at The Canopy. He’s my only hope.”
And hope was about the only thing he had, wasn’t it? Regardless of Ryder’s motives, Kale needed help. It’d be best for Boston to find him first, and if Emily discerned Ryder’s motives in the meantime, they’d even have a clue as to what they ought to do once they found the poor kid. The idea of helping warmed Emily. Maybe she’d become something of a snooty elitist, but she had the power to do something worthwhile and useful. Something good.
She regarded the apartment windows and tried not to chew her lip off. It didn’t appear promising. Or pretty. Or structurally sound. “I’m not sure about this.”
Ryder’s stretched smile struck her as forced. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.” He put a hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the storefront of the consignment shop.
A sign so faded she’d missed it earlier hung from a post next to the door. “Second Chances. Fitting name.” The grime on the opaque windows blurred the displays of jewelry inside.
Emily truly wanted to help Boston find Kale. Of course she did. But stepping inside the small dimly lit store stuffed with counters and cabinets jammed in at awkward angles had her doubting her degree of dedication to the cause. “Ryder, I’m not sure—”
“Come on in! I’m Wendy. Y’all holler if you need help or a look-see inside one of the locked cases. Twenty-five percent off bracelets today!”
Judging by the southern drawl, Emily surmised the shopkeeper was no more a local than her. It was impossible to catch a glimpse of the woman between the maze of product and the furniture housing it all.
Ryder stood on his tiptoes. “We’re here about the apartment.”
A shuffle of paper. A squeak of plastic on plastic. The tinkling of metal and the creak of floorboards announced the approach of the shopkeeper. Wendy peeked around a tower of earrings directly in front of them. “Did you say you’re here for the room upstairs?”
Room? There was a world of difference between a room and an apartment, but Ryder nodded easily.
Wendy came into full view. High-waist jeans and a button-up top with the tails knotted at her belly button didn’t quite match the glittering chandelier earrings draped from her earlobes. She was barefoot, which shouldn’t have surprised Emily. More than anything, her eager expression gave Emily pause.
Had no one else asked about the rental? Emily clamped her mouth down on another protest. Can’t hurt to look. We’re only looking.
Loose reddish-brown curls fell from Wendy’s haphazard ponytail balanced precociously atop her head. Gray blossomed at her temples, but her face held little evidence of age. She kindly smiled. “What can I tell you?”
“Is it available?” Ryder’s query left his lips in a haughty, impatient tone.
Emily stilled. Dear God, is that how I sound to people? She and Ryder seemed to have everything else in common. Surely, though, she was more polite to strangers, even bare-footed, hick-sounding ones.
Wendy went from welcoming host to defensive landlord. Her smile faded. “Sign’s in the window, ain’t it?”
Emily stepped around Ryder. “I’m the one considering the rental. May I see it?”
Wendy recovered a little. “Why, sure. Come with me, sweetie.”
Emily held up a palm to Ryder, telling him to stay put. He didn’t have to be wildly observant to have caught on to Wendy’s dislike.
He shifted his feet and glanced away, clearly annoyed, but didn’t budge.
She followed Wendy’s winding path to the back of the store where she began an ascent up the narrowest, most rickety staircase Emily had ever seen. She took a breath, prayed for courage and light feet, and started up behind the shopkeeper with a death grip on the handrail.
Relapse in Paradise Page 7
