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Moments later the two children came back in, carrying a loosely wrapped, festive-looking cardboard box. “We made this for you two Aunties,” Isabella said shyly.
“Hope you like it,” Carlos said, clasping his hands with excitement. “Open it!”
Two red spots appeared on Aunty’s cheeks as she took hold of the lid of the box, lifting it off. She peered inside. “Oh, my goodness.”
“Here, turn on the light,” Josef said, pressing a cord that extruded from the back of the box. A star nightlight bloomed on the inside of the box, illuminating a nativity scene inside made of colored, claylike substance.
“It’s marzipan,” Carlos said. “You can eat it!” He reached inside and plucked a “pumpkin” from inside the miniature stable, and held it out to Rosario. “Try it, Aunty!”
Rosario opened her mouth, and Carlos popped the object in. Everyone waited while she chewed thoughtfully, her eyes closed. “Delicious!” she pronounced. “This is just wonderful! Look at baby Jesus in his manger, and you even have a donkey!”
“The camel was the hardest,” Isabella said. “We did a one-humped camel because the other kind was even more hard.”
“The dromedary was even more difficult,” Josef corrected, very much the big brother making sure her grammar was correct. Everyone was persuaded to try a bit of the marzipan, and Lei liked the nut paste’s unique flavor. She squinted at the lumpy camel held up by pipe cleaner legs. “So creative. I can totally tell what it is.”
“I love it,” Aunty Rosario said. “Come give me a hug, kids. We’ll keep it forever.”
“You’re supposed to eat it!” Carlos protested.
Aunty shook her head. “No. It’s too special.” And she carried the box with its manger scene and set it right in the window of the restaurant for all to see.
Chapter Thirteen
Lei
Lei drove Consuelo to her new placement at Walnut Creek two days after Christmas, navigating through heavy Bay Area traffic and onto a giant freeway. The two of them were silent in the rental car, each lost in her thoughts, as an hour or so later, they approached the community tucked into a valley among hills covered in golden grass and deep green live oaks.
Lei could still feel Aunty Rosario’s arms around her in the longest hug as they’d said goodbye that morning. Her aunt had taken on a lot with those kids, and Lei wanted to worry about the extra work and strain on Rosario—but it was obvious that the benefits outweighed the costs for her bighearted aunt. Rosario was energized by having “the keiki” to care for, a buzzing bee of energy as she gathered supplies for them and sought out a lawyer and a social service agency whose advocacy she could trust in getting longer-term custody of the children.
Meanwhile, Josef, Isabella and Carlos were clearly blooming under her care, helping with the house and yard, and becoming more open and affectionate by the day. Josef was on his way to being her right-hand man at the restaurant. They were even talking about getting a dog.
“I wish we could have had longer with Aunty and her new family.” Lei finally broke their companionable silence to address her ward. “But Keiki and Angel are boarded, and I’ve taken all the time I can from work.”
“I know. It’s fine,” Consuelo said. She was engulfed in a stylish Maui Built hoodie Stevens had sent, and Rosario and the kids had given her a new pair of Chucks that looked good with the jeans Lei had bought her. “I’m ready for whatever comes next.”
“Great attitude,” Lei said. They pulled into the address of the group home—a large, sprawling mansion tucked among spreading oak trees. “Whoa. This is fancy.”
“Wow,” Consuelo said.
Lei parked in a turnaround in front of the mansion, and they hardly had time to get out of the car when the large front door, decorated by a holly wreath, opened to show a clutch of teenaged girls.
Consuelo tensed, and Lei touched her shoulder. “They look friendly.”
All three of the girls were smiling. They did look nice.
The leader of the pack approached, wearing black Goth gear and purple hair. She held up a garland of fabric flowers. “Aloha!” she said. “We heard you’re from Hawaii, so we brought you a lei.”
“Thanks.” Consuelo ducked her head awkwardly so the girl could put the lei around her neck.
“Welcome to Creek House. Come on up and we’ll show you around, and to your room.”
Consuelo looked back at Lei. “I have to say goodbye.”
Lei flapped her hand. “Go on. I’ll be visiting you again before you know it.”
Consuelo broke away from the girls to hug Lei. “Thank you,” she whispered, and then let the girls sweep her into the house.
Lei followed at her own speed, carrying Consuelo’s backpack. She handed it over to the houseparent at the door, checked on all the paperwork, signed various forms, and then, from the driveway, called the cell phone she’d given Consuelo.
“Hey. I thought you left,” Consuelo said. “But you’re still here.” She waved down at Lei from a window overlooking the driveway.
“Wanted to make sure you’re okay. Really okay. And that those friendly girls aren’t pulling an act.”
“I really am.” Consuelo said. “I have my notebook. And my own room. The girls really are nice. Thank you for getting me a place here.” Her voice trembled. “And for Christmas with your aunty and her fosters. I’ll never forget it.”
“Me neither. It really was great. Well, you get to keep that phone. Call me anytime,” Lei said, smiling up at Consuelo as she sat in the window with the phone against her ear. “You got this, babe.”
“I got this. Fly safe, back to Hawaii. And kiss Angel for me.”
“You know I will.” Lei ended the call, waved one last time, and got in the car to head for the airport, and home.
Chapter Fourteen
Rosario
Rosario peeked into the room where the keiki were sleeping. Just to make sure they weren’t having nightmares, or getting cold. Both of those things had happened on their first few nights at her house, and now, after they were asleep, she still poked her head in just to make sure they were all right.
A part of her still worried she’d wake up some morning, and they’d have disappeared.
Josef occupied the twin bed closest to the door. His legs in flannel pajamas and long bare feet sprawled from beneath the denim quilt Rosario had made from Wayne’s old cowboy jeans seemingly a lifetime ago. The boy slept on his stomach, his face turned sideways into the pillow, his newly cut hair revealing the tender, vulnerable curve of his ear.
He’d trusted her with a sharp pair of scissors applied to his head only days after she’d taken them in. Her hands tingled with the memory of how satisfying it had been to clip away the crazy dreadlocks that had been forming around the nape of his neck, the floppy, greasy strands hiding his face. He was so handsome now that everyone could see him!
Rosario stepped into the room and gently tugged the comforter down over his bare feet, glancing over at the bunks.
Isabella was on the bottom, curled like a shrimp under a Hawaiian quilt Rosario’s mama had made when Rosario was still a girl. Her heart felt like it swelled within her chest as she remembered Mama’s work-worn hands sewing that beautiful pineapple pattern by hand.
But precious old things got new life by being loved and used again, and that’s how it felt to see the sweet face of a sleeping girl under that quilt again after Lei had outgrown it, way too fast.
On the top bunk, Carlos slept on his back with one hand dangling off the bed. She’d let him pick out new bedding, and he wore a red Spiderman set of pajamas to go with the comforter set he’d picked out in honor of his superhero.
They were safe. Well-fed. Cared-for. Nothing fancy, here with her, but a lot of love and a big ohana to call their own.
Rosario closed the door softly, and sent her gaze heavenward for a moment. “Thank you, God, for giving me these precious children to care for.”
Walking to her own room, she glanced
into the guestroom where Lei and Consuelo had so recently slept. God willing, they’d all be back together again next Christmas.
Lei
Lei pulled into her parking spot, a smile already on her lips. Stevens had texted that he was on Oahu for the weekend to celebrate the holidays with her, and would pick up the dogs from the boarder and meet her at her house.
She got out of the truck, and heard Angel’s shrill yap, the perfect counterpoint to Keiki’s deep booming bark. “Hold on, girls. I’m almost there.”
But before she could stick her key in the lock on the tall wooden gate, it opened.
Stevens stood there, a Santa hat on his head and both of the dogs’ leashes in his hand. “Don’t bother coming in. We’re going to the beach for a late Christmas picnic.”
“Pinch me. Am I dreaming right now?” Lei exclaimed.
“Yep. I’m your dream man, baby.” He grabbed her up for a huge full body hug and a passionate kiss. The dogs went nuts, barking and lunging with excitement.
Finally, he loosened his arms. Lei slid down his lean, hard-muscled length until her feet hit the ground. “I don’t know. I’m awfully tired. Maybe I need more convincing about this picnic plan of yours. I might need a nap first.” She wiggled her brows suggestively.
“Ha! I’m wise to your evil plans to have your wicked way with me.” He picked up a wicker hamper and the dogs’ leashes in one fist, and then scooped her up at the waist, tossing her over his shoulder with the other arm. “Food first. A man needs to keep up his strength.”
He carried her, giggling, to the truck and put down the tailgate. He set Lei down, and they helped the dogs in, and secured their leashes to the safety toggle she’d rigged up for them.
The two got into the cab and Lei turned on the truck. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, her eyes filling unexpectedly. “You just made my already great Christmas perfect.”
“Okay. You talked me into it. I guess we can kiss a little more,” Stevens murmured, his crystal-blue eyes a sea she could swim in forever.
So, they kissed a little more.
And finally, with the lush clouds in the sky going gold and red, they got on the road for their favorite nearby beach. The sun was just setting over the jetty at Ala Moana Beach Park as they carried the picnic basket out to the half-moon of beach, narrow with high tide.
Stevens had packed a bottle of champagne, a couple of plastic flutes, two giant roast beef sandwiches, and slices of lilikoi chiffon cake from Napoleon’s, Lei’s favorite bakery.
They ate, drank, and watched the sunset on sand still warm from the day. The dogs put their heads down and snoozed as the first stars came out and the last of the day shimmered on the gentle waves. “I feel like I’ve had two Christmases now, with you here and this wonderful meal,” Lei said. “This is the best present you could have given me.”
“Mission accomplished,” Stevens said. “The first of many more spent together.”
Lei had to kiss him again, tugging on the fuzzy pom-pom of the Santa hat.
Consuelo
Consuelo sat at the desk in her pretty bedroom overlooking the mansion’s driveway with her notebook open. Lessons were over, and so was dinner, and now she had the evening to hang out with the other girls in the family room, or read and study by herself.
The luxury and freedom of her new setting, after OYCF, were exhilarating.
But it was time to tell her story.
“It all began with a drunk driver,” she wrote. “Just a guy who’d been laid off, had a few too many beers, and didn’t even see my mom when he jumped a curb in his old Pontiac.”
As Consuelo wrote, she felt the pressure of locked-up pain begin to drain away.
Nothing could bring her mother, mowed down beside Consuelo on the sidewalk, back to life.
Nothing could change the fact that her father had died an awful death of cancer.
And nothing could save the people murdered by others in her name after she became the Smiley Bandit.
But Consuelo could tell her story. It would help make things right. Stories could change the world, and maybe hers would too—just a little bit.
There were other kinds of freedom than taking to the air in flight, and for now, they were enough.
Turn the page for a sneak peek of book five of the Paradise Crime Mysteries, Twisted Vine! Then keep reading for recipes straight from Aunty Rosario’s kitchen!
Sneak Peek
Twisted Vine, Paradise Crime Mysteries Book 5
Ken carried the computer and Lei, the rest of the packaged evidence, as they rose in the elevator of the Prince Kuhio Federal Building to the tenth-floor FBI offices. The door opened on the gracious lobby with its marble floors, leather couch, and fan of Guns & Ammo magazines on the coffee table, a fresh-faced New Agent Trainee behind the bulletproof glass booth. The NAT, Amit Gupta, a clean-cut young Indian man, gave a big grin at the sight of them. “Let me help!” he exclaimed, coming out of the cubicle.
“We got it,” Lei said, smiling back. It wasn’t that long since she’d been sitting where Amit was, and she still remembered the boredom of answering phones and running background checks, which went with the training period—a period that had been extended especially for her due to some procedural mishaps on a case.
Ken waited, his arms full as she juggled her armload of packages, fumbling for her ID badge. Amit took it from her, swiping it through the lock that opened the steel-cored automatic door leading to Bureau headquarters.
Lei took back her badge. “Thanks, Amit.” The NAT nodded and went back into the booth as Ken and Lei’s black athletic shoes squeaked down the hall.
Marcella poked her elegant head out of her office. “Lei, stop a minute. I want you to meet someone.”
“Let me drop these off first.”
“Sure.” Marcella pulled back into her office. Lei noticed the blind was down over the door as she passed, and she frowned. Who could be in there? Marcella sometimes liked to “surprise” her, like the time she’d tried to set Lei up again with Alika Wolcott, whom she’d disastrously dated, at the gym. Lei was still in limbo relationship-wise.
Lei had chosen her career in the FBI and left her boyfriend Michael Stevens behind on Maui. Ever the gentleman rescuer, heartbroken and rebuffed, Stevens had married Anchara Mookjai to help the Thai woman get citizenship. While Stevens and Anchara had tried to make their marriage work, Lei’s career choice of the FBI had been rocky.
After they’d worked through the drama of his doomed marriage last year, Stevens had gone back to Maui and she’d buckled down and focused on regaining her credibility at the Bureau while they waited for his wife Anchara’s citizenship to come through. They were in touch, but only minimally, as phone calls and Skyping just reminded them both how hard it was to wait to be together. Both of them had plenty to do at work without stirring up emotions.
“Let’s use Workroom One,” Ken said. “I want to get the case file going, and we can inventory these items before we brief Waxman.”
“Okay.” They turned into the workroom, a functional space with a locked temporary evidence locker, worktables with bright halogen lights over them, computer stations, and various analysis equipment. Lei was eager to fingerprint the heroin kit and the suicide note, but she’d told Marcella she’d be back. “I’ll just be a minute,” she said, stowing her armload of evidence in the locker.
“You can leave it unlocked. I still have to inventory it,” Ken said, setting down the computer on a table. “I’ll take this down to Information Technology in a minute, see how soon Sophie can take a look at it.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be right back,” Lei said. She grabbed a water bottle out of the little fridge and hurried back to Marcella’s office. She knocked on the door and gave it a push. It swung inward and bumped into Marcus Kamuela. Wrapped in his arms, looking disheveled and thoroughly kissed, was Marcella.
They sprang apart. “Uh—this is Marcus Kamuela, Lei. My boyfriend.”
Lei felt a hollo
wing under her sternum. “The night marchers walking over her tummy” as her aunty Rosario used to say. Of all the people in the world to be dating her best friend, why did it have to be the detective investigating that nemesis from her past, the Kwon murder? “We’ve met. Saw each other this morning, in fact. Hi again.”
“I didn’t realize you were the friend Marcella’s always talking about,” Kamuela said, looking a little sheepish as he straightened his shirt. “Sorry I was irritated this morning. I hate to miss a case.”
“I know how you feel about your cases,” Lei said, remembering Kamuela’s hard cop face in front of the television cameras on the day Charlie Kwon was murdered. She and Kamuela had had a conversation outside Kwon’s apartment a year later about the unsolved case. The murder of her childhood molester still held the potential to ruin her life. Lei pasted a smile on her face. “So this is the mystery detective you’ve been dating, Marcella. Turns out Marcus and I met when I first got to the Bureau.”
“Well.” Marcella smoothed escaped bits of hair from what she called the “FBI Twist” back into their pins. “I wanted to be sure Marcus and I were going to . . . you know. Be a thing. Before I introduced you.”
“She’s commitment phobic,” Kamuela said, with that crooked, attractive white grin Lei had noticed more than once.
“Well, happy for you guys,” Lei said. “Listen, I’d better get back . . .”
“So when is Stevens coming over? We need to do something together, a double date or something,” Marcella said.
“I’m not sure.” Lei lifted the water bottle in a little toasting gesture. “I’ll let you know. Well, gotta run. Carry on.” She pulled the door shut on Marcella’s laugh, imagining Kamuela sweeping her friend back into his arms and continuing to mess up her hair with kisses.