“Why not?”
I told him about Coop.
“Jesus, I saw that story on the news. Katy’s friend was the American?”
“Yes.”
“Poor kid. Were they, you know, close?”
I didn’t know. “Close enough.”
“Give Katy a big hug for me. Wait. Better yet, bring her with you. A little Hawaiian sun could be just what she needs.”
“Oh, Danny.”
“Lowery is adamant that you accompany his son’s body to Honolulu, and that you oversee the entire reanalysis.”
“Have Notter talk him down.”
“Not happening.”
“Not my problem.”
“When’s the last time you took a vacation?”
“Christmas.”
“Look, Tempe. We both know the guy you dug up today is not John Lowery.”
“He went by Spider.”
“Why?”
“Long story.”
“This thing’s going to skewer old Plato. Do it for him. And for Notter and Merkel. You may need a favor from us sometime.”
I pictured tormented eyes beneath a Korean vet’s cap.
A plastic-wrapped corpse.
A mold-crusted skeleton.
I had no urgent cases in North Carolina or Quebec. Maybe Danny was right. Maybe a trip to Hawaii would be therapeutic for Katy, and Danny’s point about my perhaps needing them in the future wasn’t said entirely in jest. But would Katy go?
“When will action kick off at the CIL?” I asked.
“The remains are being transported on Friday. Lowery insists you travel with them.”
“Adamantly.”
“Adamantly.”
“I’ll ask Katy.”
“Good girl.”
“That’s not a promise, Danny. Katy needs me right now. It’s her call.”
“I imagine she’s pretty torn up.”
“Very.”
“Will she attend the kid’s funeral?”
“The service will be open to close family only.”
Silence hummed from the South Pacific to the southeastern seaboard. Danny broke it.
“I’ll send flight information as soon as I have it.”
I ROSE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, BLITZED THE HARRIS TEETER floral department, then returned home to download and print photos from the net. Armed and ready, I made a tippy-toe visit to my study-turned-guest- room.
Katy awoke to orchids and plumeria, a handmade lei, and a thumbtacked Hawaiian panorama.
She appeared in the kitchen shortly after ten, tousled and confused, holding a particularly dazzling shot of Maui’s Kamaole I beach.
I asked how she felt. She shrugged, poured herself coffee.
I conveyed Danny Tandler’s condolences. She slurped.
I launched my pitch. Snorkeling. Diving. Maybe a surfing lesson or two.
Katy listened, eyes on steam rising from her mug.
Interpreting shrugless silence as interest, I continued. Diamond Head. Waikiki. Lanikai Beach.
