Sleeping With Anemone Part 32

"You're a difficult person to reach, Ms. Knight. I hope you're responding in the positive."

My heart began to race. "Yes. I'd love to join you."

"Marvelous. I shall put your name on the list. Suite 212."

"Thanks. And just out of curiosity, may I ask how long your company has been in business?"

"I can guess why you're asking. You are aware that the original Aloha Florals, which started back in 1970, closed after its owner died. It has now reopened under new management as of the first of this year."

He was certainly prepared. "Do you have a Web site, so I can get more information?"

"Unfortunately, our Web site isn't up yet. I'd be happy to provide any information you need this evening."

"Did I understand correctly that you're leaving town tomorrow?"

"Yes, Ms. Knight. Tomorrow my work here will be done. I look forward to meeting you this evening in person."

I hung up the phone and realized my hands were damp from nerves. I wiped them on a paper towel and phoned Marco.

"Hey, Suns.h.i.+ne," he said, "I'm just heading out to Tom's Green Thumb. Did you make that phone call?"

"Yes, and our focus has been wrong, Marco. The kidnappings and thefts aren't connected to Uniworld and Nils Raand. They're connected to the brooch."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

I filled Marco in on the details of my conversations with Joe the UPS guy, Mr. Mikala, and Keahi Kana, and ended by reading him my list. "What do you think?"

"That you nailed it. Great work, Abby."

"Thanks." I knew I was beaming.

"But you're not meeting this man tonight."

Sayeth Emperor Marco.

"Actually, I was thinking of both of us meeting him."

"No way in h.e.l.l, Abby. If this Kana is responsible for Hudge's death and Harding's beating, and the FBI is looking for him, it's too dangerous."

"I know that, but how about listening to my idea before you make a ruling, Judge?"

"Not funny."

Wasn't meant to be. "Just listen to my plan, okay? We go to the hotel and ask the hotel manager about Mr. Kana. He'd be able to tell us whether Kana's entertained any clients, or had food sent up for tonight-that kind of thing. I'm sure he'll cooperate if you flash your PI badge. And if there aren't any red flags, we hang around outside Kana's suite to see who else is attending his little soiree. If it seems legit, we go inside and meet the man. If we don't see anyone else, we call Reilly to let him know what we think the man is up to. How does that sound?"

"I'll agree to it on the condition we let Reilly know our plans before we go, so he can have some plainclothes cops on hand."

"Fine. As long as Kana doesn't spot them."

"I'll call Reilly now and set it up."

"Great. I'm going to head over to my parents' house to pick up the brooch."

"Wait for me to get back. I'll take you."

"I'd rather get it into the safe at your bar as soon as possible, Marco. I have this uneasy feeling about the brooch being there. Lottie can drive me over in the minivan. Besides, don't you have to meet your mom at your apartment?"

"It won't take long to get her settled. I should be there by four o'clock."

Was there a word stronger than overly optimistic? Because I knew what would happen. His mom would want to cook something for him and, since he was a good son, well, who knew when he'd get back? In the meantime, I could pick up the brooch and take it down to the bar. But if I kept arguing, we'd end up fighting, and I didn't want that. "Okay, I'll wait."

I hung up the phone and picked up the flashlight to drop it in my purse hanging on the back of my chair. But the silky light slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor. The case split neatly in half and a s.h.i.+ny, dime-sized battery rolled under the desk. I got down on my knees and fished it out, then tried to put the pieces back together, but there was already a battery inside.

I examined the tiny device more closely and saw minute holes in the cover, reminding me of a flattened earbud. I turned it over and saw that it had been glued inside the case.

Then I realized what I was holding. It was a bug. Someone had been listening to me-and was probably listening to me at that moment.

My heart began to thud with sickening intensity as my thoughts raced back over everything I'd said while the flashlight was nearby-my conversation with Mr. Mikala, with Keahi Kana himself, and with Marco-mentioning that the brooch was at my parents' house.

Dear G.o.d. What had I done? What if Kana went to their house to get it?

But wait. He didn't know where they lived. He didn't even know their names, and he'd have to go through a lot of Knights in the phone book to find them. If he was still listening, I could keep him from getting that brooch.

I dialed Marco's number, but it went to his voice mail so I pretended he had answered. "Hey, Marco, it's me. I'd feel better if you called Sergeant Reilly and asked him to pick up the brooch now. You will? Great. Okay. Love you, too."

I hung up and quietly wrapped the bug in a tissue, then carried it to one of the walk-in coolers and left it beside a bucket of daisies with a sticky note that said, Bug! Give to cops. Don't talk! Then I pulled on my coat and ran to find Lottie.

She was helping a woman and her mother select funeral flowers. Grace was serving coffee to a parlor full of people. I couldn't ask either one to go with me. I glanced at the clock. It was two thirty-hours until Marco would show up.

I dashed back to the workroom and grabbed the keys to the minivan.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

"Dad, it's me," I said into my phone as I headed north through town. "I'm on my way." "Your mom said you'd be coming. Fill me in on what's going on with this brooch."

Normally, I made it a rule not to have long conversations while I drove, as it tended to distract me, but I needed my dad to know the seriousness of the situation, so I pushed that rule aside and gave him a complete rundown on the status of the brooch and Keahi Kana, aka the Flame, finis.h.i.+ng just as I pulled into the driveway.

Dad opened the garage door with a remote device, and I ran inside, hitting a b.u.t.ton next to the doorway to lower it again. I hurried through Mom's studio and into the kitchen, where he was waiting.

I kissed him on the cheek. "Have you got the brooch?"

"I put it in the grocery bag in the fridge with some apples from your mom."

"More apples? Do you know how many are still in my refrigerator from the last bunch she sent? We can't eat them that fast."

"Try telling that to her."

I removed the brooch from the sack and tucked it inside the zippered compartment in my purse. "Would you call her and tell her to meet us at Bloomers?"

"I'll leave her a message. She turns off her phone when she's in a meeting."

"Okay. While you're doing that, I'll get your coat."

"I'm staying here, Abby."

"Dad! It isn't safe here. I don't know what this Kana might do. He could be Googling your address at this very moment."

"Let him. He's not going to chase me out of my own home. I know how to protect myself. It wasn't so long ago I was a cop."

A cop who now had almost no use of his legs. "I can't leave you here, Dad."

"Why can't you leave me here? I'm not helpless."

What was I supposed to say? Yes, you are? I knew how much he struggled to do for himself and how hard it was for him to accept his limitations, but he had to face the fact that he wasn't the cop he used to be.

I stewed while Dad called Mom's number and left a message. Clearly, he didn't understand the risk he was in. He hung up the handset, turned his chair, and started toward the living room, calling, "You'd better get going, Ab."

c.r.a.p. How could I abandon him? I followed him into the living room, dropped my purse onto the floral print sofa, then tossed my coat on top of it and sat down with a heavy sigh.

Dad parked his wheelchair to face the sofa and studied me for a moment. "If you're staying because you're afraid for me, Abby, you'll hurt me worse than the bullet in my leg did."

I hung my head. "I'm sorry. It's still tough for me to accept what happened to you."

"Sometimes it's tough for me, too, sweetheart, but life goes on. If you keep looking back at the past, you know what'll happen? You'll run into a wall. You can't move forward when you hit a wall, can you?"

"No, you can't."

"Never look back, Abby. Make a decision, go forward, and don't second-guess yourself. You'll be a better person for it."

I kicked off my shoes, sat down, and curled my legs beneath me, resisting the urge to check the time on my watch. "So, Dad, as long as you're in a philosophical mood, maybe you can give me some advice."

"Now? I thought you wanted to get out of here."

I wanted to get both of us out of there, but that wasn't going to happen. "Another fifteen minutes won't hurt. I'll let Marco know what's going on so he won't worry."

I used my cell phone but got Marco's voice mail, so I left him a message telling him where I was and to please call. On the coffee table in front of me sat Mom's decorative gla.s.s jar filled with red hearts. After I put my phone in my coat pocket, I picked up the jar and shook it. "You know Mom hates that you saved these."

"That's what she wants you to believe. Actually, it's become a joke between your mom and me. Whenever one of us says something the other disagrees with, the other will say, 'Have a heart and shut up.' " He laughed. "It defuses a lot of tension."

That was actually pretty clever. As I put the jar back on the coffee table, Dad asked, "Speaking of tension, how are you doing with your bodyguard?"

"I'm adjusting to having him around. Marco's mother is coming to town today, though."

"So? She seems like a warm, generous person and she's clearly crazy about you, Ab."

"And I like her, too, but she scares me."

Dad studied me for a moment. "Why is that?"

"What is this, a therapy session?" I joked.

"I'm just curious."

I thought about it for a moment. "I guess she scares me because I'm picturing her as my mother-in-law. Do you remember the Marie Barone character on Everybody Loves Raymond? That mother-in-law."

"Ah. Now we're getting to the real issue."

"Which is?"

"The marriage."

"We're a long way from that step, Dad."

"As I recall, you said you were going to get engaged."

I began to twist a thread on the sofa. "We are. Someday."

"Is something holding you back?"

"Want my list?"

Dad laughed. "I'm sure your mother's on it."

"No, I'm serious. I know this sounds idiotic, but to convince myself that I'm making a wise decision, I started keeping track of all of Marco's positive and negative qualities. I call them his pluses and minuses. The only thing is that the minuses are catching up to the pluses."

"Give me an example."

I sighed. "Okay, well, for one thing, I've always admired how forceful and commanding Marco is, but there have been times lately when he's been so bossy, I wanted to cross off his pluses. What I saw as confidence is looking more like arrogance, and his tenaciousness is pure stubbornness. Then there's his strong, silent mode that I used to think was s.e.xy and mysterious. Frankly, that's starting to feel a bit cavemanish."

Dad laughed. "Except for the caveman part, you could be describing your mom." He reached over to take my hands. "Sweetheart, you're viewing two sides of the same coin. Confidence or arrogance? It depends on your mood and the circ.u.mstance."

"To a certain extent, sure, but what if I've been wearing those proverbial rose-colored gla.s.ses, and I'm just now viewing the real Marco?"

"The real Marco as opposed to the heroic Marco? Yes, Marco has flaws. Who doesn't?"

"I didn't expect him to have so many, Dad."

"Listen to me, Abby. My years as a cop taught me a lot about people. I can size up a man in the blink of an eye and know if he's brave or cowardly, a bully or a phony. Marco is a nice-looking, intelligent, honest, capable man who will stand beside you in good times and bad. The problem is, he's come to your aid so many times, you've put him on a pedestal as some sort of hero. But no one should ever be put on a pedestal, because it's not fair to ask any of us mere mortals to live up to such lofty expectations. He's just a man, warts and all.

"And remember, you're being forced together much more than a normal married couple would be, unless of course you worked together, which presents different problems."

Dad had a good point. I'd been calling Marco my hero for quite a few months, yet whenever he didn't act heroic, I got testy. "So what you're saying is that I accept Marco with his flaws or don't marry him."