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When the bulldozer of a man reached Leilani, he slipped his arm around her waist. Using his body as a shield and a battering ram, he shoved his way back through the arguing brokers.
He kept walking until they reached the parking lot and dark SUV.
When he finally stopped, Leilani flung her arms around Angel’s waist and buried her face against his chest. “Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled by his polo shirt.
“What was with the circus so early in the morning?” he asked as he held the passenger door open for Leilani to climb in.
She waited for him to get into the driver’s seat before leaning her head back against the seat. “I don’t know what happened. Apparently, they all got a message, supposedly from me, saying that I was ready to sign contracts to sell my property.”
“I take it you sent no such message,” Angel said as he started the engine.
Leilani shook her head. “Not unless I did it in my sleep. But after last night’s nightmare, I’d believe anything.”
Angel glanced over at her. “Bad one?”
She closed her eyes. “The worst one so far.”
As Angel drove out of the parking lot, he held out his hand.
Leilani took the hand, glad for something to hold onto. She could have used a hand to hold when she’d been drowning in her nightmare. Holding his now helped more than she could have imagined.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “It’s enough that you came to my rescue. Someone really has it in for me. Not only does he want my businesses to fail, he wants me to sell my only connection to my hometown.”
“I spoke with my boss, Hawk, after I left you last night and told him to have Hank’s computer guy look into Peter Brentwood and Buddy Akina.” He shrugged. “I don’t know that it will lead to anything, but it’s a start.”
Leilani shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. If the broker is sabotaging my business to break me financially and force me to sell rather than claim bankruptcy, why would he send messages to all the other agents that I was ready to sell?”
“No, it doesn’t make sense.” Angel frowned as he navigated the road ahead. “What about Buddy Akina? What does he have to gain by destroying your business and forcing you to sell? Wouldn’t that defeat his purpose to keep big corporations from buying up Lahaina and building the next Honolulu on Maui?”
“Unless he wants me to get angry at the people who want to buy the land to develop it, and I decide to go the other route and donate it to the state?” She shook her head. “That would be too much of a stretch.”
“What about your cousin?” Angel asked. “Would he gain anything by forcing you out?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“He’s your only living relative. Would he inherit the land if you were to die?”
“No. I have it in my will that if I die, the land will be donated to the state to build a park that helps preserve the beauty and culture of Maui and our ancestors.” She turned to Angel. “Makai would inherit nothing.”
Angel frowned. “Does he know that?”
“No,” Leilani said. “No one knows but me and the attorney I hired to draft my will. And he’s not on Maui. I went to Oahu to get it done.” She sighed. “I really don’t think Makai is behind what’s going on. We were really close growing up. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Greed makes people do terrible things,” Angel said.
“Not Makai,” she said.
When they arrived at Maalaea Harbor, Leilani showed Angel the small building they’d rented while they operated their boat tours out of the harbor.
“Besides snorkeling tours, we do the occasional dive trips and contract exclusive trips to people who want to hire the boat for a day of diving and spearfishing. We haven’t offered diving excursions yet because our certified divers lost their homes in the fire and moved in with family on Oahu and the Big Island. I’m certified, but it’s been a while since I’ve led a dive trip. For now, we’re starting out slow with snorkeling.”
She led him to the two boats Windsong Tours had moored at the harbor, Windsong I and Windsong II. “Windsong III was our catamaran. My captains could only get two of the crafts out of Lahaina Harbor in time to escape the fire. The catamaran didn’t make it.”
The crews were hard at work, preparing the boats for the day’s trips.
Dev waved from the deck of Windsong II as he helped lay out the life vests in a neat row, ready for the guests when they came aboard at eight o’clock. He seemed to be fitting in with the other deckhand, who was filling the barrel they used to soak the masks and snorkels to disinfect them before each use.
