a Touch of the Past (An Everly Gray Adventure)

by Charles, L. j.

  "I’m a lot of things." He flashed that naughty grin at me.

  There was something eerie about the air base—the long empty road in front of us, too many look-alike creamy beige buildings—except for the hangars. They looked exactly like what they were. It wasn’t in my plans to ever be on a military base. Never had any reason whatsoever to expose my fingers to anything the military was into, and now didn’t seem like a good time to change that plan.

  Pierce pulled to a stop in front of a building that had a bunch of dents in the walls. "What’s with the carved up building?"

  "Bullet holes."

  "Recent?"

  "Nope. World War II."

  "You’d think they’d have fixed them by now."

  He shook his head. More than once. "A reminder. They’re intentional," he explained, turning off the engine.

  "And we’re here, why?"

  "Vehicle."

  I deciphered that to mean he was going to exchange the speed of the Boxster for the stability of whatever the military drove. "You’re gonna bargain a Boxster with a bullet hole through the windshield for a Jeep?"

  "A truck. Air Force doesn’t use Jeeps."

  I rubbed my fingers over my forehead to ease the nagging sensation that was minutes away from becoming a migraine. "We could have gotten one of those at Hertz. Why here?"

  He sent me a hard-eyed glare. "Stay." He jabbed a finger toward the console. "Do not move."

  "Got it," I said, looking for something to get into.

  Pierce wrapped his hand around my chin, turned my face toward him, and brushed his lips over mine, teasing, testing. The man had a way with a kiss, and when his tongue found mine, I forgot all about being on a military base.

  My mistake.

  He handcuffed me to the steering wheel.

  Eight

  I yanked on the handcuff. "You’re not gonna leave me like this."

  He flashed me a grin. "Be right back."

  "Damn it, Pierce. Where would I go?" I gestured around the area with my free hand.

  "You, Niele, could end up anywhere." He headed for one of the cream-colored buildings.

  "It’s ‘Eleu Niele," I yelled after him. "I’m more than just nosey, you know."

  Wait. How did he know my Hawaiian name? My driver’s license. The letter from Grandma to my mom had been in my wallet. And he had the nerve to call me nosey.

  I struggled to snag my handbag off the backseat so I could dig out my lock picks. No way was I going to sit here shackled to the steering wheel—too embarrassing.

  A white truck pulled in next to the Boxster, skidding to a stop. The driver hopped out and disappeared into the same building that had swallowed Pierce.

  My nemesis jogged out a few minutes later, and in one slick move unlocked the cuffs, grabbed my handbag, and tossed it in the truck.

  "Let’s move," he said, holding the car door open while I climbed out.

  I hiked myself into the truck. Actually, it was more like a tumble, and not a graceful one at that. It took me forever to get the seatbelt fastened, because a couple fighter planes came screaming in for a landing, and they demanded my complete attention.

  "Amazing," I whispered.

  "Yeah, they are. Almost makes me wish I’d gone in for fighter training." A wisp of sadness clung to Pierce’s words.

  It wasn't something I’d heard before, and my curiosity clicked into question mode, but I smothered it. Now wasn’t the time to probe.

  I’d barely fastened my seatbelt before we'd passed the guardhouse and were heading for the H1 expressway.

  Pierce hit the gas.

  "You in a hurry?" I asked.

  "The military and I aren’t friendly." There it was again. Sadness.

  "Friendly enough to give you a truck."

  "Not exactly." It was a clipped, end-of-discussion statement. I’d definitely be pursuing this when we weren’t running from bad guys.

  When we got back to the Ma Kai, I stripped, tossed my dress in the trash, and took a long, hot shower. I sobbed through my grief under the pounding spray, and some of the tightness had eased from my muscles by the time my skin turned wrinkly.

  Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but exhaustion won, and I shrugged into the thick Ma Kai bathrobe, flopped on the bed, and dropped into a deep sleep.

  It didn’t last long.

  A hand clamped over my mouth, and my eyes popped open. Too dark to see. I grabbed the hand, tried to pry it off me, scraping and clawing at the skin with my fingernails. My heart skipped, then began to settle into a normal rhythm as the images trailed through my fingers and flashed on my internal monitor. Annie.

  I seriously had to start locking the balcony door. Hell, closing it would have been a good start. Not that a closed, locked door would have stopped her.

  Annie tapped her index finger against her lips and bent to whisper in my ear. "Have to check in with Pierce before he accidentally kills me."

  I nodded, pointing to the connecting door. I was pretty sure Pierce didn’t ever kill by accident, probably didn’t do anything by accident, but it was a good idea for Annie to check in and give him the secret handshake, or whatever super spies did when they met each other.

  I tightened the belt on the bathrobe, then grabbed some shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser. It was time to do something about food and bring Annie up to speed on the situation.

  Thrashing noises came from Pierce’s room. Didn’t sound like the secret handshake had gone that well, so I hustled over to see if I needed to call nine-one-one.

  I peeked around the edge of the door, jerked back.

  Heat rush.

  Who knew Pierce slept in the buff?

  Several deep breaths later, I nudged the door open and stuck my head in. Seriously, this was too good to miss. Pierce was flat-out on the bed, Annie pinning him down, the covers a tangled mess that exposed a very male, very lean, tan, muscled flank.

  Whoa. Tan? He’d been in the sun bare-assed naked and I’d missed it. Well, damn. Loving Mitch didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate a prime example of man candy, even if it was guilt-ridden.

  I pulled back to gather my courage. Whatever was going on in there, I needed to be calm, not hormonally challenged. Propping the door open with my foot, I leaned into Pierce’s room. They were lying next to each other…laughing. What had happened to their typical secret agent, I’m-tougher-smarter-quicker-than-you relationship?

  I marched into the room, stood with hands on hips and glared. "Can anyone join this party?"

  Two heads swiveled toward me, and then Annie bounced off the bed.

  Pierce lifted the sheet, inviting me to join him.

  Thank Pele it was dark enough to hide the heat creeping into my cheeks. I slammed my eyes shut, and made frantic motions for him to cover himself. That sight would stay with me for…oh, the rest of this lifetime and well into the next. The man could pose for a centerfold without a single stroke of airbrushing.

  Annie hooked her arm in mine and steered me toward the connecting door. "Get yourself together and join us, Pierce," she said, grinning with pure female triumph.

  "What—?" I asked, our hips bouncing together as we passed through the doorway.

  "Nice bod, huh?"

  "Holy Mamma Mia," I said, fanning myself.

  "You get used to it when you work with him. He’d have attacked me if I shook him awake, so I just kept talking and tickled him until he chilled. And what’s with the Mamma Mia? Never heard you say that before."

  I shrugged. She’d tickled him. The woman had guts, no doubt about it. "The Mamma Mia just popped out. Guess it fit the situation. You know, raging Italian hormones or something."

  "You’re not Italian."

  She had me there, but I liked the way Mamma Mia rolled off my tongue, so I was keeping it. My new favorite phrase. I flicked on the bedside light and gave her a thorough once over. "You look like hell. And why didn't you just call, let us know you were on your way up."

  "Been up a few too many hours and I�
�m starving," she said around a huge yawn. "And I didn't call because I wanted to scope out the situation. Doing my own recon has saved my skin a few times."

  Pierce ambled into my room t-shirt bunched in his hand, his khaki shorts riding low on his hips, top button undone.

  I pulled my gaze away and focused on Annie. She’d hunkered down in front of the refrigerator and was digging through possible beverages, totally ignoring Pierce’s half-naked state. If she could do it, so could I.

  "Diet Coke?" She handed me a can.

  I wrinkled my nose at her. Something was definitely up, but the briskness of her tone had me holding back any questions. I took the can, rested it against my cheek to cool things down, then popped the tab and took a long swallow.

  "Water," Pierce requested, pulling on the t-shirt. It had Pipeline scrawled across the front in black letters.

  Annie stood, handed him a bottle, and then plopped on the sofa, legs curled under her. "Who wants to fill me in?"

  Pierce cocked his head in my direction.

  Tears clogged my throat. "Not yet." I dashed into the bathroom. Pierce could bring Annie up to speed while I got dressed and…my handbag sat on the floor, the edge of the cookbook poking out the top.

  The letter. How could I have fallen asleep without reading it? Finding Grandma’s grave, exhaustion, and the close encounter with several bullets had messed with my mind. Grandma was gone, but I still had something tangible that connected us. Something she’d intentionally left for me. And I had the images of her I’d picked up from the house. If only there was a way to print them.

  I used the time it took to get dressed and braid my hair to control my runaway thoughts and stop hyperventilating. I needed to be calm before I read the letter because I didn’t want to miss a single nuance, if any, that might be lurking behind the words.

  Two deep breaths later, I opened the cookbook with reverent care. The scent of age and faded spices drifted from between the worn pages. Tears burned behind my eyelids, tracked, cold, down my cheeks. I swatted them away. Time to be done with crying. I eased the folded paper from between the pages of the cookbook. It was white and crisp, the words clearly written in a firm, masculine hand.

  Aloha, ‘Eleu Niele.

  Ho‘okipa. Welcome to your true home. You will be led to me when the time is safe, but you must destroy this letter and not speak of it to anyone. You are being watched by those who wish me harm.

  I am sorry you learned of your Tutu’s death so abruptly. There was no way and no time to prepare you.

  Ke Akua, the spirit of your grandmother, and I wait for you.

  Imi’ike, kapuna kane, your grandfather

  An image of my grandmother accepting the letter from a gnarled hand filled my vision. No face. How could she not have looked at him?

  Annie rapped on the door. "Can I come in?"

  Grandfather. My grandfather was alive. The tension around my heart loosened. I still had family. Not the grandmother I desperately wanted to meet, but a grandfather who had never been mentioned.

  Annie knocked again. Harder. "Everly? Please open the door."

  "I’ll be right out." I splashed cold water on my face and memorized the letter from my grandfather. Not an easy task since I hadn’t picked up a Hawaiian dictionary yet. Much as I hated to do it, the letter had to be destroyed immediately. I kept the water running in the sink while I ripped the paper to shreds, and then flushed the scraps. I blew my nose and opened the door to face Annie and Pierce. "I’m okay. All cried out and ready for whatever."

  Pierce squinted at me. "A.J.’s up to speed. You ready for food?"

  My stomach let out a loud growl. "Guess so," I said, rubbing away the grumbling sounds.

  Annie used the facilities, then we jogged downstairs, across the parking lot, and piled into the Jeep. Wait. Not a military green Ford truck. A white Jeep with a rental sticker in the corner of the windshield. "What happened to the truck?"

  "Swapped it out. Jeeps blend. Military vehicles don’t."

  I didn’t even bother to ask who or how, just reveled in the openness. There were no doors, no roof, and the breeze shot through the open vehicle, bathing me in the rich, moist scent of the islands.

  And then reality crashed in. "How come we’re in an open vehicle when someone has been taking pot shots at us?"

  Pierce grinned. "Hiding in plain sight."

  Annie glared.

  And then Pierce added the clincher. "If they want to kill you, the windshield isn’t gonna stop them."

  He had a point, one that raised my blood pressure a few notches. But if I was about to take a shot in the head, I was at least going to enjoy the wind whipping around my body while I waited.

  I took in the scenery until Pierce pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. An impossible-to-miss, red neon sign said Zippy’s.

  "I've noticed a lot of these restaurants around town," I said, climbing out of the Jeep. "So, the food must be good, right?" Pierce winked. "I’m in the mood for Hawaiian stew, and they have the best."

  "Hawaiian stew?" I let the idea roll around in my mind. "How’s that different from regular stew?"

  "You’ll see," Annie said.

  They flanked me as we made our way across the parking lot. "Don’t you think two bodyguards are overkill?"

  "No." It was a single syllable in stereo.

  Annie glared at Pierce. "Don’t you think a vehicle with doors and a roof would’ve been a better choice."

  "Too normal. Expected. The Jeep gives better cover."

  I really wanted to be done with conversations that focused on my demise, so I changed the topic. "You’ve been to Hawaii, Annie?"

  "Few times."

  So much for conversation.

  The restaurant wasn't busy, and a plump young woman with dark features seated us right away. "I'm Kanani," she said, introducing herself. "I can bring you something to drink, yah?"

  She pulled a pencil from the knot of hair on the top of her head and tapped out a rhythm on her notepad.

  Annie and I ordered Diet Cokes, and Pierce stayed with the water she'd brought when she seated us.

  I started to open the menu, but Pierce snatched it from my hand, stacked it on top of his and Annie's, then handed them to Kanani.

  "Three Hawaiian stews." He gave her a grin filled with straight, white teeth. The one that makes every woman for miles around melt at his feet. Kanani simpered and hurried off to do his bidding.

  "Guess I’m having Hawaiian stew." I folded my arms across my chest. "Not to change the subject or anything, but do you wanna talk about who the hell was shooting at us today?"

  "Nope."

  "Huh," I grunted. This wasn’t going well. "Do you think it’s gonna happen again?"

  "Yep."

  "That’s just super duper. I’m thinking I’d like to know who wants me dead. And Annie might have a point about doors and a roof on the Jeep."

  I carefully watched his expression.

  Annie wouldn’t look at me.

  "Don’t either of you know someone to call so we can find out what’s going on? That’s what black op super spies do, isn’t it? You know bullets make me twitchy—especially when they whiz by my head."

  Silence.

  Pierce angled his head in my direction. "Told you they weren’t trying to kill you, or they wouldn’t have missed."

  Resentment bubbled, and I considered poking at their super spy façade. Maybe try to guilt them into spilling all sorts of confidential information. Problem was, I had a secret, too, and wasn’t about to share my newly discovered grandfather with them. Not after my grandma had been murdered on their watch.

  Kanani reappeared, placing three large, steaming bowls on the table—beef, potatoes, carrots, and onions in a light broth. Looked like ordinary stew, but smelled amazing. Like something a grandmother would make.

  I inhaled the spicy fragrance wafting from the bowl and reached for my spoon.

  Kanani stopped me with a light touch to my hand and shook her head as
she set down plates of brown rice and corn niblets. Huh? Brown rice and corn? Seriously?

  "What I do is take out the meat and potatoes, cut them up, then mix them back into the broth with half the rice and corn, yah."

  I glanced at Pierce. He was way ahead of her, his meat and potatoes already cut into bite size chunks. Annie wasn’t far behind.

  Kanani smiled down at me. "The rice soaks up the broth, so only do half at a time, yah," she explained.

  "Thanks." I set to work cutting up my meat and potatoes, then added part of the rice and corn and stirred it up. I took a bite, sliding a quick glance at Pierce.

  He and Annie were grinning at me with identical happy faces.

  It was delicious. The flavors were rich and…joyful. Maybe it was because we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but, even so, there was something about this food that was different. Something I’d never tasted before.

  "You like?" Pierce asked.

  "I like," I mumbled around a mouthful of stew.

  We ate in silence. The food deserved our full attention, and I consumed the entire bowl, plus the side plate of rice and corn. My belly sighed in contentment.

  Toward the end of our meal, a cell phone chirp sounded from the depths of my handbag. I glanced between Annie and Pierce a few times, checking expressions for guilt, or maybe some kind of secret signal while I rummaged around, my fingers finally bumping against the cold, hard surface. I tapped the message icon. "Mitch," I whispered.

  He’d left on assignment a few days before I made my impulsive trip to Hawaii, and I knew he wouldn’t be happy about me texting him the news instead of waiting until we could talk. I licked the lingering taste of stew from my lips and opened the message.

  Cold here. HI sounds good. Meet you there?

  "He wants to meet me here." Butterflies trembled in my tummy.

  "Not a good idea, Belisama."