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yard in the exclusive neighborhood. This side of the valley had sweeping views of the sugarcane fields, the town of Kahului, and the rising purple bulk of dormant volcano Haleakala. Clouds crowned the summit today, and as she often did, Lei had a sense of the mountain looking down at her benignly. She slid the phone back into her pocket.
    “I’m finally going to meet my mother-in-law after work today,” Lei said as Pono rang a brass bell inset in the door.
    He raised thick black brows. “Good luck with that.”
    “Yeah. Gonna need it.” Lei reached up in a familiar gesture to touch the white gold pendant she wore at her throat. Footsteps echoed, and the door opened. Lei could tell by the woman’s swollen, tear-streaked face that someone had already told her about Makoa.
    “Hi. I’m Detective Sergeant Leilani Texeira, and this is my partner, Pono Kaihale, from Maui Police Department. I can tell you’ve heard the news, and I’m so sorry for your loss.” Lei and Pono held up their badges. “I know this is tough, but can we come in? We have some questions.”
    “Okay.” Gail Simmons’s blue eyes filled again as she stood aside, holding the door open for them. She was dressed simply, in a floral tunic and leggings. “My husband is on his way home from work. I called him.”
    “We’re so sorry.” Pono’s rumbling bass added pathos to the words as the distraught mother covered her face with her hands.
    Lei stepped inside a stone-flagged entry with large ceramic pots of ruffled orchids on either side of the door. A sunken great room opened before them with a floor-to-ceiling swath of windows framing a view that led the eye down a grassy field to the cobalt sea. Whitecaps flecked the surface of the ocean, reflecting clouds scudding by.
    Lei wished she were anywhere else other than in this elegant room as the grief of Makoa’s mother battered at her own emotions. “Come sit down.”
    She put her hand on Gail’s shoulder, and with Pono on the other side, they guided the woman to a beige suede couch facing the windows. Lei felt anxiety tighten her chest as Mrs. Simmons gave way, sobbing on Pono’s bulky shoulder.
    She got up and went in search of tissues, her eyes taking in the glossy kitchen, hallway with rooms opening off it, a bathroom lined in shells and coral-embedded tile. She grabbed the box of tissues she found on the back of the toilet and returned to sit beside Mrs. Simmons with a glass of water from the kitchen. Finally, when she had wound down a bit, Mrs. Simmons mopped her eyes and straightened up.
    “My husband should be here soon. I also called our daughters on Oahu. They’re both students at University of Hawaii. They’re going to come home as soon as they can get flights.”
    “So Makoa wasn’t in college?” Lei asked.
    “No. He never went. His pro surfing career began as soon as he turned eighteen, so that was his priority.”
    “Did he live here? With you?”
    “Yes. He wanted his own place, but I argued that this house was so big, and empty now, and he was on the road so much with contests, that it was no trouble for him to stay in his old room when he was home. Though he often was over at his girlfriend’s. Shayla Cummings.” Gail’s mouth tightened.
    “Tell me about his relationship with Shayla,” Lei probed gently. She wanted to get a little more background on the striking young woman who seemed so devoted to Makoa.
    “She’s a bikini model. Works at a surf shop when she’s not doing modeling.” Mrs. Simmons blew her nose. “The girl is nice enough, but I wanted more for Makoa. Now there won’t be more. Of anything.”
    Mrs. Simmons gazed out the window, balling the tissue in her hands. It was like a switch had been tripped, and she fell silent and still, all animation gone from her face.
    The front door flew open so hard it banged against the wall. Mrs. Simmons jumped as Lei and Pono stood, turning to face Makoa Simmons’s father.
    “Who’s this, Gail?” Rory Simmons