Page 63 of Blind Trust
“Yes, ma’am.” Nic relaxed his fingers and offered a tight-lipped smile to mitigate the concern on Lyla’s face as she led Dr. Patel down the hall to leave.
“You knew she was going to be raring to go as soon as she got the okay.” Kekoa chuckled and pulled out a chair at the conference table and sat. “You’re lolo if you think anythingIsay will get that wahine to back down.”
“I know.” Nic grabbed his paperwork and joined Kekoa. “I’d just hoped Dr. Patel would lean in our favor.”
“Fat chance, brah.”
“What’s a fat chance?” Lyla walked into the fulcrum with a bit more energy, but Nic could see the strain in her eyes. He pulled out her chair. “Thanks.”
“Lyla, are you sure—”
“You heard Dr. Patel.” She glanced up beneath dark lashes, and even with a battered face, she was beautiful. She shrugged. “Besides, I’ve taken worse hits from Maddie ‘Mad Dog’ McGinnis.”
Kekoa paused his typing. “Mad Dog McGinnis? I’d hate to know what crimes she committed.”
“She wasn’t a criminal. She was ninety-seven pounds of muscle at ten years old and the lead jammer for the No Good Novas, my roller derby team. She had a mean bite. Gave me this scar on my chin.”
Kekoa’s eyes rounded. “She bit you?”
“Nah, she slung me across the track, and I hit a post.”
Kekoa’s eyes moved to Nic, his lip curling. “Brah, and you thought five-foot-nothing Dr. Patel was going to be able to take—” He looked at Lyla. “What was your nickname?”
“Stinkerbell,” Nic answered without thinking. He went to tug down his cap, but he’d left it off because of the knot on his head.
“No way Dr. Patel is going to take down Stinkerbell.” Kekoa reached out to Lyla for a fist bump. “My girl takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’.”
“Speaking of ticking.” Lyla glanced up at Nic, her eyes soft with worry. “How are you? What kind of side effects was Dr. Patel talking about? Do you need to go home and rest?”
“I’m fine, Lyla.”
Her shimmering gaze hesitated on him. “You’re sure?”
“Just a bump on the head. That’s all.”
“Okay, but concussions are serious, and Idolisten to the doctor.” She narrowed her eyes on Kekoa and tucked her hairbehind her ear, but it fell right back in her frustrated face. “If we feel dizzy or nauseated, we’re supposed to go to the hospital. In the meantime, let’s work on finding out why Genevieve was killed.”
Nic exhaled. He had to pick his battles. There was no way he’d be able to convince Lyla to go home and get the rest she needed. And honestly, at least with her here, next to him, she was protected. If only he could figure out how to keep her here.
Fat chance.
“The medical examiner could only give us his initial thoughts. Genevieve was shot but did have visual signs of injury on her face and arms.” Lyla’s voice lowered. She moved her hair from her face again, but the wayward strands slipped through her fingers once more. “He also said it appears she’d been dead about forty-eight hours. He won’t know the exact time of death until the autopsy is complete.”
“Which means the shooter at your grandparents’ property could be the same person,” Kekoa said.
Lyla nodded and attempted to pull her hair back but stopped, cringing. Nic saw the agitation on her face at not being able to do a simple task.
“Give me your hair thingy.” Nic held out his hand, but Lyla just stared at him. “I’ll help you.”
“You want to do my hair?”
Lyla glanced at Kekoa like he was the better choice—what with those Hawaiian curls he always bragged about.
Kekoa turned to the screens. “I’ll just keep working on the timeline.”
“Okay.” Lyla handed Nic her hair thing. “Just a ponytail, please.”
“Sure.” A ponytail should be easy. Right? He stood and walked behind her. Taking a breath, he gently began scooping her hair into his hand and immediately realized he’d been overconfident in his ability. Especially since the buzzy feeling in his fingertips madeit hard to stop her hair from slipping through his fingers.“Just a temporary side effect of a concussion. It should go away.”Nic hoped Dr. Patel’s diagnosis was correct.
