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Authors: Maureen A. Miller

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BOOK: HIGH TIDE
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 ***

“So what do you think?”

“Gee, Takanawa, I just got here. I haven’t even had time to develop an opinion yet.”

“But she’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Naoki gazed longingly through his Grandmother’s kitchen door, into the dining room.

Briana followed that puppy dog glance and confirmed that indeed the woman known only as Joy, was an attractive creature, with her svelte muscular frame and glossy black hair.

“Dinner’s coming.” Briana announced, suspending a tale of love and loyalty in Japan, and Keito’s proclamation that
loyalty
was such a commendable trait in women.

“The rolls,” Briana prompted, “Keito, come with me and get the rolls.”

With an apologetic smile at the young female guest, Briana disappeared back through the door, her hand tugging the cotton fabric of Keito’s dress.

“Yo
u’re as subtle as a hungry lion,” Keito admonished.

Leaning against the counter, Briana smiled at the woman with black hair laced with silver strands. It was hoisted into a tight bun
—so tight it nearly straightened any wrinkles that might have formed around Keito Takanawa’s sharp eyes.

“As are you. Why didn’t you simply demand her birth certificate and a resume?”

“Briana,” Keito began patiently as she peered through the oven door. “When is the last time Naoki brought a woman here for dinner?”

“Two days ago, and I must say the chicken teriyaki was exceptionally good the other night.”

“Don’t start with me, girl.”

A smile that revealed the depth of love she held for Naoki’s grandmother curved Briana’s lips. She reached into the refrigerator and poured four glasses of iced green tea.

“I don’t know,” Keito continued, “there’s something about her—” Never completing the thought, instead she rushed on to the next culinary task.

Yes, there was something about
Joy with no last name
. Beautiful in a natural way, with no makeup to distort her features.  Quiet to the point that she rarely spoke unless spoken to. Nonetheless, there was something disturbing about the young woman.

“You have to admit, you’re a bit intimidating.” Briana mused.

“Hmmmph,” Dismissing her with the wave of a mitt, Keito spoke over running water.

“Hey, will you two stop gossiping, and get out here?” A pair of black-framed glasses poked through the door.

“On our way.”

Once Naoki disappeared, Briana faced Keito and held a hand over her heart. “I really hope this works out for him.”

***   

“So Joy, are you still in college, or working?”

“Working.” The voice was refined, void of any accent.

“Good, good.”Keito strove for patience over the single syllable answers. She caught a glimpse of her grandson’s smitten face, and the hand that rested only an inch from the graceful fingers beside it.

She continued, carefully. “And
where
do you work?”

A momentary frown wove across dark eyebrows before Joy set her fork down and met the Asian woman’s curious stare.

“Research.”

It was all Briana could do not to roll her eyes. Jumping in before Keito lost all composure, she commented. “For the university?”

“No,” Joy sensed everyone watching her, and added evasively. “Historical.”

“Oh,” Not sure what to make of that, and uncertain whether she should pursue the matter and enlist in more vacuous responses, Briana instead delved into the chicken and rice.

“Joy hasn’t been on the island long, she’s been in L.A.”


Oh
.” Keito nodded, as if the Eastern Mecca of Los Angeles should explain any eccentricities. She dabbed at the corners of her lips with a napkin and met the level gaze of her visitor.

“So, Joy, you like Hawaii? Do you surf?”

Joy nodded. Then, as if realizing that the simple shrug would not suffice, she sighed and added, “Yes, actually I do.”

Curiosity now toyed with Joy’s typically banal expression as she turned her attention towards Briana. False eagerness laced her monotone voice. “Would you like to come out with me some time?”

“Bree doesn’t go in the water.” Naoki mumbled over a mouthful.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

A charged pause elapsed, in which Briana sipped some tea and gazed through the curtains to the miniature, red-arched bridge and sculpted pond Keito had worked so industriously on. This garden would look wonderful as an entryway into the new site going up in Kona.

“Her parents—”

“Grandson!”

Naoki’s head flew up and he tried to look angry, but squelched under his grandmother’s intense stare.

Waiting a second to see what developed, Joy pressed the subject, suddenly interested in the dinner conversation. “The ocean is beautiful, it offers such treasures.”

Fascinated with the slothful trek of a school of fat poi in the pond outside, Briana replied bleakly. “It also
takes
treasures.”

Seemingly intrigued now, Joy was undeterred. “That it does, but the fun is digging them up a hundred, or several hundred years later.”

For a brief second Briana turned to look at the woman with unabashed horror, then regrouped and smiled pleasantly. “You’re an archaeologist?”

“No.” Joy forked a piece of chicken and kept her gaze down.

Okay, we’re back to the single syllables again
.

Keito rose to remove Naoki’s plate.
Hefting an eyebrow in her direction, Briana could feel the elder woman trying to analyze the placid smile glued to her face.

Keito knew her too well. Through long nights, over steaming cups of tea, this
astute woman had become her surrogate mother. Granted, they had met only a few years ago when Briana was already an adult. But still, even at that mature age, the need for a maternal bond was strong. Naoki had only been three when his parents were killed in an earthquake in Kobe. He was too young to remember them. He had his grandparents all along. Briana had known the love of her parents—and then that love was gone.

Only thirteen when they were taken from her,
she recalled it being an age where she was old enough to taste independence, and young enough to cry tirelessly for them. The ensuing search by Social Services produced a great aunt in Oregon that was willing to support her. Briana survived that spell, and when she was old enough, she returned to the land she considered home. Pristine white sand was her only native soil.

For so long she had been alone, and when Naoki first brought her
to his house after work, independence and belligerence still hardened her.

If ever there was a more cantankerous, independent woman in the world, it was KeitoTakanawa. And with time, Briana grew to love her completely.

“Would you help me clean up in the kitchen, dear?”

With a distracted nod, Briana rose and smiled at her infatuated cohort and his peculiar date.

She followed Keito into the kitchen, where the only salvation from the pity in Keito’s eyes was the shrill ring of the cell phone. Briana delved into her purse and extracted the pulsating device.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Holt?”

“Yes? Who am I speaking to?”

“It’s Kathy.” A slight hesitation.“Kathy Bishop, from Moku.”

“Oh yes, Kathy.” Briana frowned. “It’s a Sunday. I hope you’re not calling from work.”

A slight hesitation, the sound of a printer, and then the unmistaken staccato of fingers on a keyboard preceded her next words. “Actually, I am. Ms. Holt, I found something interesting—are you going to be dropping by the office today? I could show you.”

A sudden opportunity for escape afforded itself. Briana felt guilty because she truly wanted to welcome this new woman into Naoki’s life, but Joy made her uncomfortable.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Naoki walked in just in time to hear that declaration. “Be
where
shortly?”

“There’s something I have to do at the office.” Lying to her friend wasn’t a good option, but
neither was explaining her rash curiosity.

“Bree?” H
e nearly whined as he glanced over his shoulder into the dining room.

“Naoki, Joy is lovely, and Keito and I are both glad you brought her over. Why don’t you two go out on the town tonight, I’ll understand if you’re a little late in the morning.”

Naoki’s glance jumped from Briana’s resolved one, to the impassive dark eyes of his grandmother. He sighed. “She really isn’t that bad once you get to know her.”

“Does she speak?” Keito asked.

“Yes she speaks,” he replied in irritation. “She’s highly intelligent. Look, Bree, if it’s something you need me to work on, I can come in tonight.”

Briana dropped her hands on Naoki’s shoulders. She leaned over and dusted a kiss across his cheek. “Sweetie, have some fun, don’t worry so much.”

Naoki shook his head in indecision. He looked to his grandmother who simply shrugged. With a resigned sigh he vanished into the living room.

“I don’t think even
he
is certain about her,” Keito observed. “He would never offer to help you tonight if he was completely smitten.”

“Mmmm. That’s true. We’ll have to keep an eye on our boy. Thanks for dinner. As usual it was magnificent.”

Keito accepted the kiss to her cheek, but never offered too many token signs of affection in return. “Don’t stay in the office late.”

***
  

Briana unlocked the door to her office with Kathy close on her heels. Flicking on the overhead lights, she tossed her purse on one of the redwood chairs. She
rounded the desk and studied the anxious twitch of the young apprentice’s pinky.

“Okay, so what brings you to work on a Sunday? What did you find?”

Securing errant strands of long pale hair behind her ear, the motion knocked Kathy’s wire-framed glasses askew. Nervously, she toyed with the printouts in her hand.

“You wanted to know if there was any unusual activity off the coast of Manale,” she began. “I mean you asked this
before
the dead fish showed up, so you must have suspected something was up, right?”

Nick thought something was up.

What was the real reason she was taking on this research? Had he made her feel insecure about
Manale Palms
? Was she looking for his approval, or did she simply want an excuse to see him again?

Nick had kissed her—and it had felt like the potential for forever. Yet, the next day he owned it up to the moon, and the fact that he had taken advantage. Dismissal was all over his face.

Drumming her fingers on the desk, Briana knew the bottom line was that she
did
want to see him again, but when it happened she wanted to be armed with facts, information he would consider valuable, and be appreciative of.

Very appreciative of
.

“Mmmm—right.”

“Well, I can account for most vessels coming and going out of Kaneohe. Local fishermen—rented yachts—tourist sailboats. I couldn’t tap into the USMC facility, but nothing seems out of the ordinary there.”

Extracting a single sheet of paper from the pile, Kathy offered it to her. “But, this almost slipped through the cracks because it appears innocent enough—a privately
-owned cruiser, supposedly another trawling outfit—”

“But—?”

“It’s what’s on board that was tough to track down. You see, I found a listing for a 20” in-hull dredge pump. And with some amazing stroke of luck was able to cross-reference it as being leased out to this boat, the
Merryweather.

Dredging.
 
A sure indicator of disturbed silt in the water. The very same issue Nick was researching the day she met him on the beach, the day he condemned
Manale Palms
as being responsible.

“So I take it that it’s not a government-approved venture?”

The apprentice shoved her glasses back on her nose.

“No, not at all.” Kathy all but bounced with excitement. Don’t you see? Dredging is illegal there. It’s a coral reef.”

“I’m aware of that.” Briana tried to assimilate the information. “Excellent work.”

She assessed Kathy again, taking in the jeans that were a little too baggy, and the Hilo Hattie tee shirt that hung just above her thighs.

Behind the glasses were intuitive gray eyes that brightened under Briana’s praise. Briana realized that beneath this protective camouflage, Kathy Bishop was cute—no—attractive.

And resourceful
.

Leaning forward, Briana asked with a wry grin, “Do you know where this boat is docked?”

Kathy bent further in her chair, and the pile of papers spilled off her knees. “Oh.”

She stooped to retrieve them and muttered from beneath the desk. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

BOOK: HIGH TIDE
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