The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (the best ebook reader for android .txt) 📗

to the almost-boat. Even in its present form, it still represented possibilities that she just couldn’t let go of. Not yet, at least.

“I guess I just like knowing it’s here, close by,” she finally said. “Maybe someday, I’ll try to finish it myself.”

“Sure. Whatever,” said Makena. She seemed to lose interest and turned away. She whistled for Hilo, and he galloped up, holding a dead fish in his mouth. He dropped it in front of her, his tail wagging so energetically that his whole body swayed from side to side.

“Ewww,” said Makena, wrinkling her nose at the rank scent of the fish. She pushed Hilo’s head away. “Thanks for the present, but you are not sleeping with me tonight,” she told the dog.

Kali watched her. Makena looked tired, and she berated herself for not being more sensitive to the ordeal that the younger woman had just endured. She made one more attempt to connect. “You know, I got roped into doing a hula demonstration at the Fire Garden Festival. Maybe you could come?” She shuffled awkwardly. “It would be fun to have you there.”

Makena shrugged. “Maybe,” she said.

Kali knew not to push the invitation. “Well, it would be nice to have you there.” When Makena made no response, Kali pulled the canvas tarp carefully back over the surface of the canoe. “Anyway, I’ve got some work to catch up on,” she said. “Do you mind?”

“Why should I?” said Makena. “I want to lie down anyway. Maybe I’ll get up later and watch some TV.”

Together, they walked the short distance back to the house. Hilo followed, staying close behind Makena. After they’d gone inside, Makena disappeared into her room and closed the door. Kali waited, but there was no sound. She lifted her bag off the floor by the table and brought it to the wide space in front of the windows near an old blue armchair where a worn rug covered the floorboards. She took out her notebook and the report sent to her by Stitches, and spread them on the rug. She sat on the floor, leaning against the lower part of the armchair and read carefully through her notes. It was too soon to have a transcript from the interview with Abraham, but she thought over all he had said, mulling over his words, wondering what he was hiding about Abigail’s bracelet.

* * *

There was no sense of falling asleep, but the next thing she knew, she was being jolted awake by Hilo’s nose, indicating that it was breakfast time and he was hungry. She sat upright, stretching the cramp from her neck that had resulted from sleeping at an unnatural angle on the living room floor. The sun was fully up, and she heard the trilling of the tiny local ‘amakihi birds through the open kitchen window. She filled Hilo’s bowl and placed it on the floor for him. The sound of the birds outside was joined by the rattling of Hilo’s bowl as he devoured his meal; she saw him push the empty bowl across the floor as she went into the bathroom to wash her face and untangle her hair.

By the time she’d changed her clothes, cleared the kitchen table, and transferred her notes to its surface, there was a nebulous, half-formed idea floating around in her head. Restless, she started the coffee preparation and placed a couple of slices of raisin bread in the toaster. As the small kitchen filled with the scent of toasting bread and fresh coffee, she glanced at Makena’s door, acknowledging to herself that she wouldn’t mind some breakfast company. But the door remained closed, and there was no sound or other indication that Makena was even awake.

Kali’s text alert sounded, and she glanced at her phone. Walter had left a message that Bill Bragden had been picked up and that Tomas had delivered him to the police launch. An accompanying officer would bring him to the Hana station for questioning. Kali replied that she’d be waiting, then sent a message to Tomas asking him how Bill had responded to being sent over for a further interview. He replied that Bill seemed unhappy and uncomfortable, but hadn’t resisted.

She spent the rest of the morning organizing her thoughts. By the time she was ready to leave, there was still no sign of Makena. She left Hilo lying in a patch of sunlight on the floor, then drove to the station. Walter was there, but Hara was nowhere to be seen.

“Is he meeting the boat?” she asked. “I thought someone was driving Bill to us.”

“Correct.” He grinned. “Hara just took delivery of his own cruiser. He’s out testing it right now, happy as a puppy with a new toy. I expect by the time he rolls in, he’ll have written at least fifty traffic tickets.”

She smiled. “Good for him. He’s a nice guy, and he’s shaping up to be a good cop. Clear thinker, doesn’t get emotional, excellent eye for detail, and looks great in that uniform.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Walter, looking at her and shaking his head. “Little young for you, don’t you think? You should look closer to home. Like next door, where that blond guy is always out there with his shirt off, making sharp things.”

Her mind jumped to Elvar. She looked away, walking toward her desk.

“Touch a nerve?” asked Walter, watching her with interest. “You know, Mike wouldn’t have wanted you to just shut down, and he certainly wouldn’t have wanted you to get old and creaky all by yourself. He’d have wanted someone to be around to put your food in the blender for you, and make sure you could find the glass with your teeth in it in the morning.”

“Who knows what he would have wanted?” she said. She changed the subject. “Do we have a report on Bill Bragden’s wife, showing cause of death? I want to make sure there was nothing weird there before we talk to him.”

“I got the impression when we spoke