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Ellen’s hand and took in her appearance.
    “Pleased to have you visit,” he said graciously. “This is Kiet. Our grandbaby.”
    Stevens took the child into his arms. His mother stared at the baby as if mesmerized. “Kiet Edward Mookjai Stevens,” Stevens said deliberately, so Ellen would know that he’d given Kiet his father’s name.
    “He’s beautiful,” she breathed. Stevens knew it was true. His son gazed at his grandmother from remarkable jade-colored eyes. His thick black hair shone in the sun, and his skin was the color of taffy. The baby extended a chubby, dimpled hand to reach for Ellen, and she reached for him as well.
    Stevens hadn’t anticipated the emotion that would tighten his chest and clog his throat as he handed his mother her grandchild for the first time. But it was there, and it was as real as her thin arms, which encircled the child as she buried her face in his tender neck. Kiet swiveled back toward Stevens, uncertain, and then, as if deciding to sample the wares, he patted Ellen’s head.
    She sat down in a nearby rocker with the baby in her arms, and Wayne cleared his throat. “I’ll throw some extra food together for dinner. Jared coming?”
    “Thanks, Wayne. We hope he’ll make it.”
    “I just needed to see my boys,” Ellen said. “I didn’t know any of this was going on.” Her voice was muffled in the baby’s neck.
    “Well, better late than never, right?” Gentle humor in Wayne’s voice took any sting out of the words. “We’ve been through a rough time in the last six months.”
    “I’m glad to be here,” Ellen said, rocking Kiet.
    “Good to have you,” Wayne said. “Mike, can I have a word?”
    Stevens followed his tall, rangy father-in-law back into the house, and the man turned to him in the tiny kitchen, pitching his voice low as he ran a hand through salt-and-pepper curls.
    “Is she sick?”
    “An alcoholic, like I told you a while ago,” Stevens said. “Still drinking and smoking, from what I can tell so far.”
    Wayne frowned, his dark eyes worried. “I bet she’s got something more going on.”
    “Jared’s pissed at her. I’m not sure he’s coming to dinner tonight, but I’m sure we’ll find out more. I don’t know how long she’s going to be staying.” Stevens felt the familiar frustration and worry thinking about his mother brought. “We can put the screen tent up on the lawn so we can all sit down together.”
    “Got some laulau stashed in the freezer for a rainy day,” Wayne said. “You better give Lei a heads-up.”
    “I left her a message.” Stevens looked down at his phone, clipped on his belt and vibrating. “Speaking of…” He answered the phone and went back onto the porch as Wayne took a foil-wrapped packet out of the freezer.
    His mother was rocking Kiet on the porch, humming a little melody that Stevens recognized in some deep place as he took the call from his wife. Her voice sounded tight with tension.
    “Pulled a homicide. I won’t be home until late. We have to dig in hard until we run out of leads. It’s Makoa Simmons. Looks like he was drowned on purpose out at Ho`okipa.”
    “Oh crap.” Stevens walked down onto the grass and out to the metal storage shed where they kept the screen tent and foldable table and chairs. “That’s just tragic.”
    “I know.” Lei sighed. He could picture her rubbing the medallion she wore on a chain around her neck, a habit she had when she was stressed. “How’s it going with your mom?”
    He’d reached the toolshed, a simple metal structure, and pushed the sliding door open, taking out the long plastic bag that held the tent.
    “She’s not too well. Really skinny and seems exhausted. She bought a one-way ticket over.”
    A long pause as Lei thought this over. “Is she staying long?”
    “I don’t plan for her to.” Stevens blew out a breath. “But she doesn’t seem to have anywhere to go.”
    Lei didn’t question this further, and he liked that. He knew it was at