Distant Echoes (Aloha Reef #1)

“I wish we could, sweetheart, but it’s almost time for your uncle to get here.” Faye had enjoyed the day. She was finally getting into this nanny thing. The break yesterday had helped too.

“He’s usually late,” Heidi said in a matter-of-fact voice. “He’s been really busy at work.”

“I know. What did your mom have to say when she called today?” Faye always tried not to pry too much, but Heidi had seemed more content and happy after the phone visit with her mother. Faye didn’t know the full story of why Heidi’s parents were split up, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“She thinks she should be done in a few more weeks. She’ll come get me, and we’ll go see Grandma Sommers.”

Faye nodded, but said nothing else. Mention of Heidi’s father was treacherous territory and would likely lead to tears. Faye knew the keiki missed her daddy badly.

The doorbell rang, and Faye got to her feet. “I bet that’s your Uncle Jesse.” A smile lifting her lips, she went to the door and threw it open.

Jesse’s face was white, and his blue eyes seemed almost wild. “Is Heidi ready?” He pushed past Faye without a word of greeting.

“Jesse, what’s wrong?” Faye whispered.

He took off his hat and rubbed his short blond hair then put his hat back on. “Everything. I don’t want to talk about it.” He strode into the living room. “Ready to go, monkey?”

“Uncle Jesse!” Heidi scrambled out of the chair and threw herself into her uncle’s arms. He lifted her against his chest, tucking his head into the crook between her head and neck. “You’re squeezing me too hard,” Heidi protested, wiggling.

Jesse released her and set her back on the floor. “Sorry.” He turned to Faye. “Thanks for keeping her today.”

“Can’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Faye laid her hand on his arm.

He put his hand over hers. “Maybe tomorrow. I can’t talk about it right now. Work stuff.” He swallowed hard and dropped his hand then moved away.

Heidi returned with her backpack. “I’m ready to go.”

Jesse put his hand on the little girl’s head and guided her out the door. “See you after while.”

“After while, crocodile,” Heidi chimed in.

Faye shut the door behind them. She had several hours before Curtis was due home, and the house seemed claustrophobic. She grabbed her car keys and went out through the kitchen to the garage. The Volvo convertible rarely got used, but today she felt like letting the wind blow through her hair. Punching the garage-door opener, she got in the car, lowered the top, and backed out.

Her tires kicked up red dirt as she headed down Highway 50. She passed three men talking along the roadside. The Acura parked on the shoulder must belong to them. They turned so their backs were to the road. She stared at them as she passed. With all the problems going on for Jesse, she wondered if they were up to no good. The base was just over the hill. One turned to look at her, and she shivered and looked away. It was none of her business.

The car seemed to know where it was going even if Faye didn’t, and fifteen minutes later she stopped by a driveway. Did she dare drive in? Her lungs constricted, and she felt faint. Dragging in oxygen, she told herself she could do this. Curtis would be so proud when she told him.

She dropped the Volvo into gear and turned into the driveway. The koa tree that stood guard over the property was nearly sixty feet tall, its long, straight trunk at least eight feet in diameter. Plumeria, orchids, and hibiscus bloomed along the drive, and their sweet fragrance wafted to her nose and settled her nerves. Talk about aromatherapy. She smiled at the thought.

When she was a little girl, she often hid under the koa tree and pretended to talk with the Menehune and the Mu, tiny aborigines who were said to have lived on Kaua’i in the early days. Whenever she played jokes on her parents, she told them it was the Mu, because the little people were supposed to be tricksters. It never worked with her parents.

The memories washed over her, and she stopped in the middle of the driveway, unexpected sobs heaving from her throat. She couldn’t do this. The memories were too strong and painful. She’d give herself away.

Gripping the steering wheel, she took several deep breaths until she could feel a sense of calmness begin to settle over her. She took her foot off the brake and put it back on the accelerator. Rounding the last curve, she shut off the engine in front of a small Hawaiian cottage. The red shutters looked freshly painted, and the front porch was just as she remembered it, such a dark wood it was almost black.

Her knees shook as she got out of the car and went to the front door. There was no sound from the other side of the screen. A gecko looked at her then raced along the siding. She lifted her hand then dropped it and rubbed slick palms against the sides of her slacks. Biting her lip, she raised her hand again and rapped on the door. The soft knock startled the myna on the porch railing. It squawked and flew off. Faye rapped a little harder, but only silence greeted her.