“Who the hell are you?” Rickards snapped.

Her eyes moved to Rickards without saying a word, simply staring at him with a look of extreme consternation.

“Let me be clear,” she said in an icy snarl.  “I could have you arrested for what you just did to my agents.”

“They didn’t identify themselves.”

“That doesn’t matter, and you know it.  The only reason, and I mean the only reason you’re not on your way to jail right now, is out of professional courtesy as a former federal investigator.  A courtesy that is wearing damn thin with those first four words out of your mouth.  So, if I were you, I would change my tone very quickly.”

Rickards didn’t respond.  Even he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

My name is Agent Hayton from the Honolulu field office.  We’ve been watching you for two days.”

“What for?”

She continued glaring at him.  “Why don’t you tell me?”

Rickards glanced at Angela.  “How the hell should we know?”

“Do you know a Kathy Myers, Mr. Rickards?”

He squinted.  “My mother-in-law?”

“Do you know her current whereabouts?”

“What?”

“I asked if you know where she is?”

“She’s in Denver in a retirement home.”

“No.  She’s not.  Ms. Myers has been missing for four days.”

The news was clearly a surprise to Rickards.

“Just a few months,” said Hayton, “after making a trip to South America—with you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Evidently, you were the last one to spend time with her outside her retirement home.  Our Denver office was trying to locate you when we discovered your sudden trip here to Maui.”

“My mother-in-law and I went on a vacation together.  That’s all.”

“To South America.”

“Bolivia.”

“What for?”

“For grins and giggles.”

Hayton was not amused.  “Is that something you do often?”

“No.”

“Then how often?”

“With her?  Never.”

“Never?”

Rickards frowned.  Not because of the question, but because of his answer.  “She used to hate me.”

“And she no longer does?”

Rickards sighed and slumped in his seat.  “It’s a long story.”

Agent Hayton crossed one leg in front of her and folded her arms.  “I have plenty of time.”

“Because I was an asshole,” he said with a sigh.

“To her?”

“To everyone,” said Rickards, turning and glancing embarrassingly at Angela.

“Obviously, this was before you became the charming person you are today?”

“That’s right.  Now I’m delightful.”

Hayton ignored the sarcasm.  “So, you have no idea where your mother-in-law is?”

“No, I don’t.  You said four days?”

“Correct.”

Rickards glared at the woman until he detected a hint of curiosity in her eyes.  “Something tells me you know already where she is.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, I think you know where she is.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you or the NCIC should have already run a trace on her—including bank records and passport activity.”

There was no reply.