“Uh, hi, Mr. Kimura. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to introduce you to our new assistant landscape artist, Jesse,” Mike said.

“A new hire?” asked Mr. Kimura.

Mr. Kimura’s voice was silky, elegant, but sharp. Dante heard the suspicion there too, in the low rumble of his three-word question. Dante gripped his coffee cup tighter. He held his breath as he listened.

“Yes. Jesse’s from outside Honolulu. His son and grandson live here though,” Mike answered.

“Come in,” Mr. Kimura said. The door creaked as it opened. There were some footfalls and muffled noises before Mr. Kimura continued. “So, Mr. Birch, who have you worked for?”

Jesse rattled off the first three positions from his resume. There was a pause.

“You ever worked anywhere else? Done anything besides gardening?” he asked.

“I’ve worked a few other places, but those are the most recent. Wanted to be a landscaper my whole life though. Never did anything else,” Jesse answered.

“You sound like a mainlander,” Mr. Kimura stated. It sounded more like an accusation.

“Yeah, I grew up mainland,” Jesse said. “Back east. But in college, I took a trip out here with a few buddies, met a girl. After college, I married her and moved here.”

There was a thoughtful pause.

“Must be a very pretty woman,” Mr. Kimura said. Jesse chuckled.

“Yes she was,” Jesse replied. “She passed a year or so ago. My son convinced me to move here. He wants to keep an eye on me, I guess.”

Albert’s voice had turned to just the right mixture of sadness, acceptance, and underlying good humor. It made Dante shift in his seat as he put down his coffee.

“I hate that he’s so good at this,” Bob said to Dante.

Dante nodded. He didn’t know whether he should be alarmed or impressed that his father could make up an entire life for himself on the spot.

“Sounds like your son is an honorable man,” Mr. Kimura replied.

“Well, that’s why I let him think he’s taking care of me,” Jesse told him. The men all seemed to chuckle. “But, you know, I hate being cooped up. I need some fresh air and sunshine. I convinced him to let me take on gardening again. Just part-time.”

“Hmmm. Where did you say you lived near Honolulu?” Mr. Kimura asked.

“Manoa,” Jesse answered.

“Ah, there is a great bakery in Manoa—a famous one. What’s it called again?” Mr. Kimura asked.

Dante and Bob tensed. They leaned toward the speakers, as a long paused settled in.

“A bakery?” Jesse asked.

“Yes, yes. Great malasadas. Do you know its name? I can’t think of it just now. A tiny little place, but you must know it, everyone goes there. It’s famous,” Mr. Kimura continued.

Jesse seemed to think for a little while. Dante reached for his gun. If this was going to go wrong, he knew his best chance to save his father was to leave this rust-bucket where it was and scale the wall himself. He placed his hand on the door handle, and Bob echoed his movement.

“Do you mean Leikela’s bakery?” Jesse asked.

Confusion darkened Albert’s voice just a shade. Dante’s eyebrows raised in shock. How did his father know about that bakery?

“Yes, exactly,” Mr. Kimura said.

“Oh, well, that’s really Makiki. It’s not Manoa at all,” Jesse replied.

“Ah, you’re right. You’re right. I forgot,” Mr. Kimura responded.

Dante and Bob let out a breath. Dante slumped into his seat. He dragged his hand over his bleary eyes.

“How the hell did he know that?” Dante asked.

“No idea. He hasn’t lived here in decades,” Bob said.

“Well, gentleman, it has been a pleasure. But it’s getting late, and I’m sure you have some more work you need to do before the end of the day,” Mr. Kimura told them. Dante and Bob heard chairs scraping against the floor as Jesse and Mike stood up.

“Is there anything special you want done with the yard today, Mr. Kimura?” Mike asked.

“No, no. Just the watering and the weeding will make my wife happy,” Mr. Kimura answered.

The heavy wooden door creaked open. Footsteps sounded as the three men walked down the hall to the patio entrance.

The rest of the afternoon passed smoothly as Mike and Jesse weeded, watered, and trimmed an expansive lawn. Dante was hopeful his father was able to lay down at least one bug in the office so they could gather more information on Mr. Kimura and all of the people who seemed to be in the house. A little after 4:00 p.m. his father called and asked to be picked up.

Bob and Dante stopped by a nearby café to pick up some sandwiches for dinner and coffee for what they hoped would be a productive night. When they picked up Albert, Dante turned around from the driver’s seat.

“How the hell did you know about that bakery?” Dante knew his voice was sharp, but he wanted to know.

“I didn’t choose that neighborhood by accident. Always do your research.” Albert smirked back at him.

“Thanks for giving us a heads up about it.” Bob threw his voice over his shoulder. “We almost had a heart attack when he asked you. You’d have a real tough time catching Kaimi with us in the hospital, so next time, tell us something like that.”

“All right, all right. How was I supposed to know he would test me? I just come prepared.” Albert reached through the seats, plucking the sandwich bag from Bob’s hands. He rustled through it for a few minutes, searching for his usual dinner.

“Were you able to lay down some mics?” Dante drove over toward the mansion.

“I was able to drop both bugs. One in the office and one in the kitchen.” Albert wrestled with the wrapping on his sandwich. “Don’t park in the same spot. We have over a mile radius now. Let’s use it.”

“Yes, sir.” Dante pulled into the empty parking lot at the resort spa.

The spa overlooked the ocean. The sun hung low in the sky, and the water was a deep, velvety blue. Like Laurie’s eyes. Dante thought about Laurie’s eyes. Everything reminded him of her. God, he wanted nothing more than to get off this island and go home. The thought made Dante’s lips twist in an ironic smile. Technically, this island was his home, but without Laurie, it didn’t feel like it anymore. It felt more like prison. Yet, he couldn’t go home to Laurie a failure. He had to ensure her safety.

“We should be able to flip back and forth between the two channels from here.” Dante turned the dials on the recorder beside him to the frequency of the office device. They all turned their attention to the sound of silence.

“What was the argument you overheard in the office?” Bob asked Albert in a half a whisper.

“Don’t know, couldn’t make anything out. But what I do know is that it was two men arguing, and that office has one entrance and exit.” Albert bit into his sandwich. “There wasn’t anyone in there when we went in.”

Dante turned his head, and Albert grinned like a cat that had just caught a mouse. The fact that Albert’s mouth was full of a BLT sandwich added to the picture. Dante shook his head, turning back around.

“Could have had the TV on, or he could have been watching something online.” Dante flipped from the silent office to a bustling kitchen.

An hour or so went by, with nothing but the buzzing of the fish tank in the office. The kitchen was much busier; with Mrs. Kimura berating her staff over what she claimed was an over-cooked tuna for dinner. Mr. Kimura broke up the tirade by promising to hire a full-time chef. Dante was more relieved than the kitchen staff; Mrs. Kimura’s voice grated on his nerves.

Dante’s thoughts drifted back to Laurie as he listened to the quiet office again. He had sent his mother one brief message the other day, but hadn’t heard anything back. He didn’t even know if she got the coded e-mail. She may have just deleted it not knowing what it was. He was starving for something from his mother, or Laurie, even more than he was for information on Kaimi. He wondered if she would ever forgive him for leaving. He knew she loved him, but their love was so new, so fragile. His desperate attempt to keep her safe may have destroyed everything.