"Kiyoshi...?" the deep voice said, as if unsure. "It's Craig Garrett."
The name and the man quickly registered in Kiyoshi's brain. "Hi, Craig." She tried to get the sleepiness out of her voice.
"Did I call at a bad time?"
Yes and no, she thought, but said: "Not at all. I was just sitting here watching television."
"Same here," he claimed. "Then I decided I'd rather talk to the lovely lady I had the pleasure of meeting this morning...and afternoon. If that's okay with you—"
Kiyoshi took a breath. He was definitely a charmer—and it was working on her.
"Yes, it's okay," she told him. "It's nice to talk to you again, too."
She sat up, no longer feeling scared from the dream, as though Craig were there protecting her.
Why do I feel that way when I just met him...and really don't even know him, she mused uneasily.
"With all these new clothes I bought from you, I'm not sure I'll be able to decide what to wear with what."
"Oh, something tells me you won't have any problem whatsoever," Kiyoshi said.
She listened to his rich laughter through the phone and could tell that he had just been playing with her. Or was it the other way around?
"Are you a fan of jazz?" Connor asked, hoping she would say yes.
"I love jazz," Kiyoshi admitted, though she hadn't listened to it much lately.
"Great. I've been doing a little bit of scouting since I came to Maui, and there's this Hawaiian jazz supper club that recently opened in Kihei. I was hoping that if you didn't have any other plans, we might go there tomorrow evening for a bite and enjoy some live singing."
Another date with this handsome man? Kiyoshi thought excitedly. With jazz as an extra incentive? She couldn't think of a reason to say no, but more than one to say yes.
Still, she wasn't entirely comfortable trusting anyone other than herself these days.
She waited another moment before responding: "I'd love to go to the club with you, Craig..." Then she added: "But if you don't mind, I think I'll meet you there. It's, uh, not that I—"
"Don't worry about it," Connor said. "I understand. I'm still a stranger. You can never be too careful, even in a peaceful place like Hawaii—especially these days."
Kiyoshi nodded in agreement as though he were there. He spoke as if from experience. Had he been or known someone who was a crime victim? She doubted he could match her dark tale of criminality that hit way too close to home.
"Mahalo for that," she said, feeling more comfortable with him in the process.
"No problem," Connor said.
He had no intention of pressing her too hard, too soon, no matter what his editor had in mind. He was willing to take baby steps to get her to talk about her brother. "The club is called Maui Jazz Sounds Lounge."
"I know the place," she told him.
"Good. Let's meet there at seven-thirty," he suggested.
"That works for me." Kiyoshi had to admit that she loved hearing his voice and could imagine talking to him all night—which might be better than going back to sleep, under the circumstances.
But Connor apparently had other ideas. "I'll see you then."
"You will," she promised.
They exchanged one or two more pleasantries and said goodbye.
Kiyoshi got up reluctantly, her throat suddenly parched as if she'd been in the desert. She slipped into her slippers and walked across the room, still thinking about the man named Craig Garrett. She wondered if it were possible that something could really come out of this for both of them. He obviously liked her and she was beginning to like him more and more.
In the kitchen, Kiyoshi turned on the light and took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. She drank about half of it and put it back in the fridge. When she turned toward the small dining table, she noticed that one of the two placemats was slightly crooked, as if it had been used by someone. Being a stickler for detail, she took pride keeping things orderly and symmetrical. It used to drive Andrew up a wall, but he dealt with it.
She was almost certain that the placemat in question—the one she never used but kept ready for company—had been moved. But then the rational side of her thought: Who could have moved it?
Since there were no signs of forced entry, Kiyoshi chalked up her fears to paranoia. Perhaps it was borne out of living alone for the first time in years. Or scary dreams. Or even the fact that maybe she was starting to lose it, following the experiences of the past year.
Kiyoshi jumped when she thought she heard a sound. She couldn't be sure from which direction it came.
She tiptoed out of the kitchen and, holding her breath, made her way to the front door, where she was relieved to see it was locked. Now she checked the windows. Also locked.
Somehow, even this did not ease her mind. She inspected all the rooms. Only after she was satisfied that no boogeyman was in the condo, did she exhale a slow breath of relief.
Get a grip, she admonished herself. No one's after you. At least not in the real world.
By the time she went back to bed, Kiyoshi had calmed down. She prayed that the nightmare would not return. All she wanted was a good night's sleep. Maybe she would dream about Craig Garrett instead of a cloaked, faceless stalker or killer. Was that asking too much?
It wasn't long before Kiyoshi drifted off to sleep. The frightening dream did not follow her.
* * *
He watched her in the darkness. She was lying on her side in the fetal position, seemingly in a deep, peaceful sleep. He had a strong desire to reach out and touch her, to feel her long hair between his fingers, to smell her sweet scent up close and personal. But he restrained himself, fully aware that it wasn't part of the plan to make his presence known prematurely.
Touching her would have to wait.
And so would killing her.
He stood in the shadows for a while longer, enjoying the view and sense of power, before slowly backing away.
He left the room in measured steps as his eyes adjusted to the darkness while he retraced his path to the front door. Looking back, he thought: Until next time, Kiyoshi—
He stepped out into the warm night, quietly locking the door behind him with the key he had given himself to Kiyoshi's place, her world, and everything in it.
He had parked down the street on the mere possibility that she might wake up with the sound of his car starting, look out the window, and put two and two together.
After he drove away, he chuckled, pleased with himself, while thinking: This is going to be much easier than I thought. Not even the meddlesome true crime writer will be able to stop me from doing what I need to do.
The softness of his features suddenly took on a decidedly sinister edge. Time was running out for Ms. Kiyoshi Yoshida.
* * *
Kiyoshi pulled into the parking lot of Maui Jazz Sounds Lounge and immediately saw Connor standing by a car. He seemed to zero in on her and waved, as though guiding her into a spot right next to his car.
Kiyoshi was filled with apprehension as she shut off the engine and knew that there would be nothing else standing between her and Craig Garrett. It had been such a long time since she had been attracted to anyone and it scared her, given her past misjudgment of the one man she thought she'd be married to forever.
Not that she viewed Craig as marriage material, per se. After all, it took two to want to tie the knot and her failed marriage was much too recent to want to go down that road anytime soon. Especially with a man who probably wouldn't even live here very long before he relocated again. Besides, he probably wasn't looking for anything more than a fling. Still, she was keeping her options open for whatever the future may hold.
"Aloha," Connor uttered and smiled handsomely as he took Kiyoshi's hand like a gentleman, helping her out of the car.
"Aloha," Kiyoshi responded in kind with a smile, trying to hide the awkwardness and giddiness she felt.
Connor surveyed his date. Kiyoshi wore a lovely turquoise a
nd white print dress and white strappy sandals. He looked up again at her beautiful face and ruby lips. "You look wonderful," he said.
Kiyoshi blushed from his intense gaze and had to look away for a moment to catch her breath. "So do you," she said honestly, admiring his black chinos and light blue tropical print silk shirt, which she had sold him. But she knew that it was the man himself that made the clothes, rather than the other way around.
Connor smiled. "Thanks," he said warmly. "Why don't we go in and see if this place lives up to its name."
"Ready if you are," Kiyoshi told him. She was pretty sure the place would measure up, since the local media had given it high marks.
* * *
They were seated at a candlelit table close to the stage, where an attractive, shapely Hawaiian woman wearing a strapless red gown was already singing and wooing her audience.
"She's really good," Kiyoshi said enviously.
"Yes, she is," Connor agreed, looking up at the singer. The truth was he was more tuned into his date, along with his stated objectives for being with her. They studied the menus, while Connor allowed his imagination to run wild, wishing that Kiyoshi was the main course he feasted upon.
The waiter came and took their order. Momentarily, he returned with a bottle of red wine, half filling two wine goblets.
"So what else can you tell me about yourself, Craig?" Kiyoshi decided to take the initiative, knowing he probably wanted to ask the same question of her. She preferred not to reveal too much about her life until she knew if he was someone she really wanted to share it with.
The question almost seemed to catch Connor off guard. He regained his composure and, after tasting the wine, said what sounded like a cliché even to him: "What would you like to know?" In truth, he was reluctant to divulge any more than he had to for fear of tripping up while using his Craig Garrett pseudonym.
"Have you ever been married?"
"Nope," Connor said matter-of-factly.
"You're not the marrying type?"
"I wouldn't say that," he responded defensively. "I'd love to get married someday—when the right woman shows up and we click."
"I see." There might be hope for him yet, Kiyoshi mused dreamily. She looked at him, curious as to who else was in his life, if not a wife. "Do all of your family members live in Oklahoma?"
"My dad lives there," Connor muttered. "My mother died when I was thirteen." He paused. "I'm an only child."
Maybe he'd told her more than she needed to know. Or maybe a part of him wanted her to get to know the real him, beyond the façade.
Connor sipped wine again and could tell that she was processing what he'd said thus far. He decided to let her ask away. It might make it easier later for him to get some of the answers he wanted.
He grinned, finding it hard to take his eyes off her. "Any other questions?"
Kiyoshi couldn't help but think that he seemed to have pat answers lined up in his head in anticipation of her questions. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Was it?
She sipped wine and savored the taste before asking another question. "What does a corporate consultant do exactly?"
Connor had anticipated the question. "Well, in my case, a corporate consultant advises his clients about everything from organizational issues to money management to changing careers."
"Hmm. Sounds interesting."
"It can be," he said, and added from real experience: "It can also make you feel like you're running in a track meet, but going nowhere fast. People pay you a lot of money for advice, but they don't necessarily want to take it."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Kiyoshi mumbled to herself. As a former fashion designer to some of the richest, influential, and most well-known people in Honolulu, she was often paid well enough, only to find that her stylistic approach did not always conform to one's personal preferences. So that was something they had in common. She wondered what else they had in common, other than living on Maui.
* * *
Kiyoshi dined on tenderloin steak and organic mixed greens; while Connor had grilled salmon and coconut rice. They ate in silence while the lady on stage sang a stirring rendition of "Harlem Nocturne" that held the audience captive.
Connor gazed at Kiyoshi across the table, seemingly caught up in the music and food, and thought of how much he'd like to kiss her. But, for now, he'd settle for getting some information about her brother Sergio Matsuko.
First he'd focus on her intimate past. He waited till they made eye contact. "You told me there was no one in your life at the moment—which is good to hear, under the circumstances. Does that mean there was someone?"
Kiyoshi stopped eating as if there was a dead fly on her plate. She tried not to think about her ex whenever possible these days. But she knew it was a fair question.
"I'm divorced."
Connor detected sadness in her voice and maybe a little bitterness. He was pretty sure that Andrew Yoshida had hurt her badly when he bailed out at a time when she needed him most. "I'm sorry," he said, knowing full well that it would do little to alleviate her pain.
"Don't be," Kiyoshi told him. "It was something that was coming long before it happened." She paused. "I guess you could say we just weren't meant to be."
Connor mused over her words and then ate some rice. "What about your family?"
Kiyoshi considered the question and Connor knew that she was trying to decide how much to reveal.
After a moment or two, she said: "My parents are dead..."
"No siblings?" he prodded.
She nibbled on the steak pensively before looking up. "I had a twin brother."
Conner lifted a brow expectedly. "Had...?"
She winced. "He died in a house fire."
Yeah, what a tragedy, Connor thought cynically. The bastard murdered seven women and deserved to die the way he did.
But he didn't feel that Kiyoshi should have to suffer because of it. He reached a hand across the table and covered hers with it. "I'm sorry, Kiyoshi."
She reacted to his touch, making no attempt to remove her hand.
"So am I," she said contemplatively.
"How long ago?" Connor hated having to play this charade, but it was a necessary step to lead to another.
Kiyoshi blinked back tears. "Last year," she said simply.
"An accident?"
Kiyoshi looked at him like he was her enemy, but then her features eased. She was sure that the questions were innocent enough, though she almost felt like this was an interrogation.
This is where I draw the line, she told herself, even if she did feel comfortable enough with Craig Garrett to tell him as much as she had. What man out there would want to be involved with the sister of a man who killed himself after brutally violating and murdering seven women, including his own fiancée? If whatever was going on here between them had to be temporary, she didn't want to see it end yet.
Kiyoshi met Connor's steady gaze. "Yes, an accident," she lied.
But Kiyoshi wondered if it really was a lie. She still found it hard to fathom that Sergio would have decided to go out in such a horrible way—even if he was guilty of those terrible crimes. The police believed otherwise and the facts seemed to be on their side, whether she cared to accept it or not.
Connor wanted to press further, but held back. He had made a breakthrough. That was enough for now. As a true crime writer, he knew from previous interviews with family members of killers that most of them wanted to talk about the father or brother, mother or daughter, son or cousin, or other familial offender—and usually said that such person was always good until this or that changed him or her. This was what he needed from Kiyoshi to complete the picture about Sergio Matsuko.
And he sensed that she was just about there, which in many ways bothered the hell out of him for he was really starting to like her as a woman.
* * *
It was dark when they left the club. Connor had been in no hurry to see the evening end. Between the gifted jazz singer and the beaut
iful presence of Kiyoshi, he imagined he could have stayed there all night. Even as he walked Kiyoshi to her car, Connor was thinking about how he might be able to extend the evening without scaring her off.
He decided to try the direct approach. "Do you want to go back to my condo for a nightcap?"
Kiyoshi looked up at him, not really seeing the color in his eyes, but reading the shadows of desire across his face. She hadn't been intimate with a man since her divorce and the thought of being wanted again sent shivers of desire up and down her spine. She wanted to be with him.
Why not? she thought. They were both single, nice looking, intelligent people who happened to be attracted to each other. Maybe it was time for her to let someone in her life again.
Maybe Craig Garrett was that man.
But another part of Kiyoshi remained wary, not wishing to be hurt and not in the mood for rejection.
She decided to take a middle of the road stance. "If I come, do you promise to behave yourself?"
Connor took that as a sign that she was more than interested. "Oh, you have my word on that," he said coolly. "I'll be as much of a gentleman as you want me to be."
Kiyoshi couldn't help but smile at that. "All right. I'll follow you."
Her heart was suddenly filled with anticipation of what may or may not occur before the night was through.
Connor was also keeping an open mind, between wanting the lady in the worst way and wanting to keep a safe distance for the long haul.
* * *
Kiyoshi took a glance around the condo. Nice, but it seemed to suggest temporary more than anything. Was Craig planning to leave the island even though he told her he had relocated there? Was there really room in his corporate consultant life for someone else?
Kiyoshi turned the question on herself. She had been scarred by the two men she trusted most. She wasn't sure she could dare think beyond more than one day with a man.
Even a successful and charming man like Craig Garrett.
Connor wondered what Kiyoshi was thinking as he opened a bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses. Perhaps she was thinking about her brother. Or maybe she was thinking about the company she was presently keeping and wondering if there was any future there.
He wondered the same thing. He had come to Maui to get information for his book. Now he wasn't so sure if that was the right thing to do where it concerned Kiyoshi. Perhaps it was time he came clean and laid his cards out on the table. Or was that a surefire way to end things before they even began?