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land. The buildings were mostly in poor repair, and she could see that one small area of no more than a quarter of an acre appeared to have been cultivated, with stakes supporting tomato plants.

There was movement near the closest building, so she sat, waiting, as a youngish man and two women stepped out from behind the structure. The man was pushing a wheelbarrow full of soil and plants. The plants were upside down, their roots showing. All three people stopped suddenly as they caught sight of the Jeep. As Kali watched, the man turned to the women and said something. One of them nodded in response, placing her hand on the other woman’s arm. The man let go of the wheelbarrow handles and began to walk toward Kali.

As he drew closer, she saw that his jeans were covered in dark stains, and that there were multiple soil smudges on his short-sleeve shirt. As he walked toward her, he pushed back his shoulder-length hair, which curled over his forehead, smiling in a friendly way. She noted that the smile did not extend to his eyes, which regarded her with caution.

She opened the door and slid off her seat onto the ground.

“Aloha,” the man said. “Can I help you?” He gestured behind himself. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is actually private property.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Who is the owner?”

The man looked uncomfortable. “That would be Abraham Waters,” he said. He turned briefly, looking toward a path leading in the direction of a building set upon a rise among the trees.

“Is that where Mr. Waters lives?” she asked.

“Yes, but . . . he doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“Are you related to him?”

The man frowned. “I’m sorry, but you’re asking a lot of questions, and you still haven’t explained what you want.”

“Answers,” she said. She pulled her badge out from beneath the loose, short-sleeve cotton shirt she wore unbuttoned over a tank top. The badge glinted in the sun. “I’m Detective Kali Mhoe, Maui Police. According to public records, this is a leasehold property. Mr. Waters may own the buildings, but he doesn’t own the land. So, let’s try this again. Who are you?”

He looked taken aback. “Sorry. I’m Jake. I just work here, taking care of the garden for Mr. Waters.” He looked meaningfully at the house in the distance. “I can tell you that he doesn’t like it when people just show up.”

Kali raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so? I’m not interested in what he likes or doesn’t like, so I’d appreciate it if you’d show me where to find him.”

A wave of uncertainty washed over Jake’s face. He led the way across the lawn, toward the left of the building where the two women were still waiting, staring openly at Kali. They smiled shyly as she and Jake passed near them. Kali saw that they were both wearing jeans that were partially covered by long, flimsy cotton dresses that fell to mid-calf, and that they both had long blond hair. She estimated them to be in their early twenties, and pregnant, by the looks of them. The way they were dressed reminded her of the women she’d seen on the ferry, the very same who’d been holding signs in the field with Chad and his group.

“They work here too?”

Jake didn’t bother to turn around. “They help with the garden.”

“Is that some sort of uniform they’re wearing?”

“God demands modesty. They’re dressed appropriately for outdoor work,” he said.

Kali waited, but he didn’t elaborate. She picked up her pace so that she was walking abreast of him, rather than behind. “My understanding is that Abraham Waters disbanded his church a long time ago.”

Jake laughed. “God doesn’t require a building, you know.”

She looked up sharply, but kept her voice even. “How many people live here besides Mr. Waters?”

Jake looked straight ahead. “If there’s anything else you want to know, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

He hurried forward across the grass to the front door of the house. It was modest in size, and set back beneath the trees. Like the gates leading into the property, the wood siding on the structure had seen better days. There was a wood-slatted porch swing hanging at a slight angle from hooks in the ceiling of the covered lanai. A cat was curled into one corner, lifting its head and yawning lazily as they came up the steps and stopped in front of the screen door. Instead of knocking, Jake called through the screen into the dark, shaded recess of the entrance.

“Father? You have a visitor.” Shifting side to side, he added, “There’s a lady here from the police. A detective. I’m sorry to bother you, but she insists on speaking with you.”

Kali heard the sound of someone moving across a wooden floor, presaging the arrival of a man in the door frame moments later. A shorter, much younger man stood behind him, looking out. She recognized the taller of the two men as Abraham Waters, though an older version than the photo she had seen. He looked at her, his gaze steady. She couldn’t help but notice that he was still quite handsome, or that he seemed to be appraising her.

“Welcome,” said Abraham. His voice was melodious, as though singing might come more natural to him than speaking. He directed his gaze toward Jake. “Open the door, please, Jacob. I’ll speak with our guest inside where it’s cooler. You may return to the garden.”

Jake held the door open, and the young man behind Abraham stepped back. Kali walked inside, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. She could hear Jake’s footsteps retreating on the stairs, fading as he reached the grassy lawn.

“Did I hear correctly that you are a detective?” Abraham smiled at her, his hands resting easily by his sides.

“That’s right.” She looked him over. He struck her as strong and virile. Though the information gathered on him indicated that he was sixty-nine, his skin was tight

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