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“Kane’s out picking up breakfast,” he reaches out and wraps his arms around my hips, pulling me in between his legs, “afterward –” His phone rings. Without hesitating, he digs it out of his pocket, and answers, “Yes, Hanale . . . No, don’t . . . He what? Fine . . . Send him up.” He ends the phone call and tosses the device on the island, then runs his hand through his hair. His eyes meet mine. Dark and torn. “This should only take a minute.” He kisses my hand, then releases me and stands up, running his hands through his hair again.
The elevator door pings as the doors slide open.
“Officer Riviera,” Damien spreads his arms out wide, “I thought I told you to refer any questions to my lawyer?”
The man who looks more like he belongs on a surfboard than with a badge, dismisses Damien’s greeting, and instead, flashes a piece of paper at him. A warrant. “Where were you last night?”
“At a charity gala with my girlfriend.” Damien points to me.
I stand up a little straighter, hugging my arms around my chest as I nod.
“All night?”
A smirk plays across Damien’s lips. “Well, we did come home at some point.”
The officer’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket, and scowls, “Yes, it seems there were more than enough photographs of you both in your yellow Lamborghini last night.” He flashes his phone at Damien, a timestamped photograph of the front of the car from a traffic light. The heavily tinted windshield reflects the red light above it, hiding the inside of the car. “Are you certain you were the one driving?”
“Who else would be driving my car? Did you honestly come all the way here to deliver a traffic ticket?”
Ignoring him, the officer pulls out a photograph from the small notebook tucked in his pocket, showing it to us. “Do you recognize this man?” The picture is old but looks like a younger version of the guy in the pinstripe suit from the party.
“Should I?”
“Mack Bumatai. He was at that gala last night.”
“There were a lot of people there.”
“Ah,” he slides the picture back in his folder, “but not everyone there was the former head of Ka Hoahanau. We traced him back to being in charge at the time your mother was murdered.”
“That’s great. Did you charge him with anything?”
“He went missing last night.”
“If you expect me to be upset, I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“Where was your boat last night?”
“At the harbor.”
Riviera holds up a finger. “Yes, one of them was. But the other four, where were they?”
Damien scratches his chin. “That’s right, I donated three two-week-long cruises on my catamarans in the charity auction. A few of the patrons had never been on one, so I offered to give them private tours of the bay. I’m sure you can check the captain’s logs for each ship. This really is something you can go over with my lawyer. If you don’t mind, I have a very busy day.” Damien reaches for the elevator button, but Riviera stops him.
“Where were your men last night?”
Damien shrugs. “I don’t know. I gave most of them the night off.”
“Most of them? What were the others doing?”
“Giving tours.”
“Ah, yes. Because you care for the orphans so much.”
“Of course. The report came in from my lawyer this morning, we were able to raise five hundred sixty thousand dollars last night. If the government were to spend some of its money helping those in need instead of wasting resources questioning clearly innocent men, I wouldn’t have to host such galas.”
“You hosted the event?”
“You seem genuinely surprised by that.” Damien crosses his arms, still standing in front of the elevator.
