Chapter 3

MIKALA AULANI LOOKED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR, MOVING this way, then that way. She decided she still looked as good today, at the age of sixty-two, as she had at the age of fifty. She hadn’t put on any weight because she ate right, did a modicum of exercising, and had the good fortune to be born Hawaiian, one of an undeniably beautiful people. Well, almost all of them were beautiful. Some were actually ravishing.

She looked at her raven black hair and the streaks of gray running through it. Coloring those pesky gray streaks was something she debated every so often, but Ben said he liked them, insisting they made her look more like a goddess. Like a real goddess had gray hair. She snorted at the thought. One good thing about being Hawaiian was that she didn’t have to worry about makeup. Hands on her hips, Kala played with her reflection in the mirror as she adjusted her minty green blouse and matching skirt. She winked at herself, kissed the air, then laughed out loud as she danced under a spray of perfume. There was just no way one could argue with 115 pounds of curves and double eyelashes at the age of sixty-two. Stupid is as stupid does. She laughed again because she knew she looked more than good for her age. Even a bit sexy. Not that she was even one little bit vain. Not her.

Time to get this show on the road. She was going into the office. To do what, she wasn’t sure. More of what she’d been doing since Tuesday, when Adam Star walked into her office and dropped his bombshell.

The death watch was on, and it was disconcerting to be so excited and at the same time sad to be waiting for someone to die. Still, donor recipients did the same thing, didn’t they? In order to live, someone had to die to donate an organ for the other’s survival. This wasn’t all that different. Adam Star had to die so Sophie Lee could live again. Kala shook her head. She hated thoughts like this. As Jay said, no matter how you looked at it, it was one helluva mess.

Kala tried to shift her thoughts in another direction. What better than her canceled trip and Ben Jefferson? Ben had taken it well and didn’t seem the least bit upset. Either that, or he was hiding his disappointment well.

She loved Ben, she really did. And the success of her thirty-five-year relationship with the retired judge, she felt sure, was because they had never married. He had his own house, and she had hers. They didn’t commingle anything but their bodies, and ooooh, that was heavenly. Neither of them needed money from the other, each had robust brokerage accounts, and neither had to count their pennies or answer to each other about spending those pennies. Independence was truly a wonderful thing, Kala thought. And she planned on keeping it that way.

A time or two she and Ben had actually talked of marriage, then looked at each other and laughed, saying no, it would never work. What they had did work, and neither one of them wanted to jeopardize the relationship. Sometimes, she missed having children, and other times, she was glad she didn’t have any. The world today was a crazy place; she saw it firsthand day after day in court. Ben said he felt the same way.

Number crunching of any kind was not Kala’s forte as she tried to figure out how many hours it would be till Tuesday. Did she count all of today, all of Tuesday? In the end, she had to give it up because she couldn’t concentrate. “Oh, God, make me stop thinking like this,” she mumbled as she climbed into her racy Mercedes convertible. She could have driven to the office blindfolded, but today, she made a stop on the corner of Cedar and Central. She waited for the light to change and made a right turn into the parking lot of St. Gabriel’s Catholic Church.

She was from the old school and reached into the glove box for a scarf to put on her head. She wanted to stamp her feet in fury, shake her fist at something when she found the church door locked. Her shoulders slumped until she saw a young priest headed her way. He smiled and unlocked the door, saying something about vandalism. Kala just shook her head. What kind of upbringing did kids who vandalized churches have?

The church was cool and dim, smelling faintly of incense and smoking candles. Sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, which were so vibrant in color she could only stare at them, mesmerized. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to church in the middle of the day. She made a mental promise to herself to come more often because it was so peaceful.

Kala bowed her head and prayed for Adam Star and his soul as he prepared for his journey to the hereafter. She prayed that Sophie Lee would be able to adjust to the outside world and that her heart and mind wouldn’t be full of bitterness and hatred. Lastly, she prayed for herself, that she was doing the right thing, and asked God to take away the hate she felt for Adam Star. And Ryan Spenser. Especially Ryan Spenser.

Kala looked around, certain that something inside would have changed with her plea, but everything was the same as when the young priest had unlocked the door. She could still smell the incense and the burning candles, could still see the sun shining through the stained-glass windows, creating rainbows over the pews. Her heart felt as heavy as before, but her eyes were dry. She closed them and offered up a prayer for everyone involved in what Jay Brighton referred to as one helluva mess.

She didn’t see the young priest until she was at the door. He was waiting for her so he could lock the doors again. It saddened her that such a place of comfort had to be locked down. A crazy thought swirled through her head, that maybe in the future she should call ahead, make an appointment to visit with the Lord. What was this world coming to?

Twenty-two minutes later, Kala parked her car in the underground lot and took the elevator up to her office. From the looks of things, it was business as usual except for her empty office. She hung her suit jacket and purse on an ancient bamboo coatrack and settled herself behind her shiny, empty desk. She flipped open her laptop, booted up, checked her e-mails, then her voice mail. Nothing of the slightest importance.

Even though it was late morning, and she’d had more than enough coffee, she meandered down the hall to the kitchen. She stuck her head in Jay’s office and asked if there was any news.

“There’s news, and then there’s news plus no news. Which do you want first?” Kala shrugged. “Okay, Judge Oldstein is in the hospital having his gallbladder out. That means the two motions I had with him for today and Monday have been canceled. Jim Langley’s deposition was canceled for this afternoon because he was in a fender bender, and he needs to have that checked out, plus he’s a hypochondriac, as you well know. He is on his way to some bone cruncher as we speak. The closing on the Webers’ new house has been put off again because the new buyers swear they saw termites even though there is a termite bond on the house. Judge Ellison’s office called, and his clerk asks that you stop by sometime today for a chat. That’s exactly how he put it-‘a chat’-so don’t grill me for more details because that’s all I have.”

“And…”

“And, Adam Star slipped into a coma during the early hours of this morning-four twenty-six to be precise. That’s all I know about that, too.”

“I wonder what Ruth Ellison wants to chat about,” Kala mumbled to herself.

“She probably wants to rent your house in Hawaii. I seem to recall hearing something a few weeks ago at the courthouse that she cleared her docket for the entire month of August to take a much-needed vacation.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen. Do me a favor and call her office and point-blank tell her clerk that the house is rented through the rest of the year. It is, you know; I’m just not getting paid any rent. And if the occasion arises, and you can get it in that she has never given me a favorable ruling, go for it. I’m outta here in two weeks, so I couldn’t care less what she thinks or feels.”

Jay’s outrage was a palpable thing. “Well, that’s just great, Kala. What about me, Linda, and the rest of our associates?”

“Deal with it like I’ve been dealing with it for the past however many years. She’s a snarky witch, and you can tell her I said that, too. You know, now that I think about it, I should call all those nasty judges who don’t know their asses from their elbows and tell them a thing or two. I just might do that, too, before Ben and I leave.”

Jay threw his hands in the air. “What? Did you wake up this morning and decide to take an ugly-mood pill or something? What’s with you?”

Kala leaned back in her comfortable chair. She closed her eyes, and responded, “Or something, I guess. I was just venting, Jay. But do call Ruth’s office and tell her the house is rented. I have no desire to go to her office today. Or any other day, so if we can nip it in the bud, that’s a good thing. Besides, I am officially retired.”

“What are you going to do today?” Jay asked curiously.

“I have some firming-up calls to make. And then I’m going to pay a visit to Clayton Hughes, Adam Star’s attorney. We need to have a talk. I’d like to get it over with before… well, I’d just like to get it out of the way, and the sooner the better.”

Jay was suddenly all business. “Do you want me to go with you? When you don’t take notes or record the conversation, you always forget half of what went on. With me there, it won’t happen.”

Jay was right, and she knew it. “Do you have the time?”

“Of course. Weren’t you listening when I told you about what was going on?”

“Of course I was listening. My mind wanders these days for some reason. So, if you’re ready, let’s head over to Mr. Hughes’s office. We might as well walk-it’s just a few blocks. It’s hot out but not so humid, so we should be okay. Though I think it might rain later today,” Kala said fretfully. “How long do people stay in a coma, do you know?”

“Sometimes years,” Jay said cheerfully to get Kala’s goat.

“Sometimes I really hate you, Jay Brighton.”

“You could never hate me, Kala. Hatred just isn’t in you. And five will get you ten, the reason you were late this morning was because you stopped at St. Gabriel’s to do a little praying.”

“Smart-ass,” Kala shot back as she reached for her purse. “That young priest, he called you, didn’t he?”

Jay laughed. He was still laughing when they walked through the revolving doors out into the bright summer sunshine. “Sun’s out; don’t think it’s going to rain.”

“It’s going to rain, my knee hurts. It always rains when my knee hurts.”

The partners walked along in silence until they came to a four-story brick building covered in ivy. The building housed mostly lawyers, but the fourth floor was allocated to CPAs’ firms. Some of the best in the city. Kala knew that because she used Kuczkir, Bernstein, Friedman, and Schwager for all of her firm’s accounting needs.

Clayton Hughes’s firm was on the second floor. Kala opted for the steps, Jay following behind her. She opened the door and stepped through into another old world. Hughes, Hughes, and Dempsey was one of the oldest, most prestigious firms in the city. No new associates were ever taken on unless one of the old guard died. No one had died in years, leaving the majority of the lawyers in the seventy-plus age bracket.

Kala marched up to the receptionist and looked down at her and the desk. Both looked like they had survived the flood on the ark. Kala handed a business card to the elderly woman, smiled, and said, “I’m here about Adam Star. Would you ask Mr. Hughes if he could spare me a few minutes? I promise I’ll be brief.”

“No need for briefness, young lady. Clayton is just practicing his putting in his office. I think he’ll welcome some company. Go right on in, third door on the right. Tell him I said it was all right.”

Jay rolled his eyes as he followed Kala down the hall. Kala knocked softly and was told to enter.

Clayton looked up from his stance, his putter clutched in a death grip.

“Your receptionist said it was all right to come back here. I’m Kala Aulani, and this is my partner, Jay Brighton. We’re here about Adam Star.”

“Ah, yes, Adam. Sad business. Very sad business. The hospital just called a short while ago and said it was touch-and-go. I expected you sooner. Didn’t you just retire, Miss Aulani? I think I heard something about that the other day.”

“I did retire. I mean, I am retired, but then Mr. Star came to my office and set me back a few days. I need to talk to you. I want to understand all of this.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. Please, take a seat, and I’ll tell you what I can.”

Clayton Hughes was round. He was pink-cheeked. His bald head was pink, too, so it was hard to tell where his head ended and his cheeks began. He had the shrewdest blue eyes that Kala had ever seen and a nose that hooked over his upper lip. He was dressed in a bright yellow Lacoste T-shirt and wrinkled khaki pants. He wore golf shoes. He leaned forward, and said, “Ask me what you want to know, and if I can answer the question, I’ll answer it, and if not, I won’t. It’s that simple.”

Kala thought about it. His client was still alive, so attorney-client privilege prevailed unless Adam Star had given Hughes permission to discuss his affairs.

“How did Mr. Star kill his wife? He didn’t discuss that part of it when he made his confession. I think my client has a right to know how it was done and why Ryan Spenser wasn’t aware of it.”

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