"Please," I cried, "put the knife down, Mr. Kana. He didn't mean it." But Dad kept goading, as though Kana's threat meant nothing to him.

"I've seen too many punks like you, Kana," he said through compressed lips. "I-" Suddenly, Dad's eyes grew huge and he gave a loud gasp. Kana jerked the knife away from his chin as Dad began to struggle for breath.

"Dad, what's wrong?" I cried.

His face turned red, his eyes rolled back, and his head started to fall forward. He caught himself and snapped upright again. Was he having a stroke?

"What is he doing?" Kana asked sharply, stepping back.

"Sugar . . . low." Dad gulped for air, as though he was about to pa.s.s out; then his eyelids fluttered and his head fell forward again.

Sugar low? What was he talking about?

Dad's head jerked up, and he struggled to open his eyes. He gasped several times, then said in a raspy voice, "Forgot . . . to take . . . insulin."

"You forgot your insulin?" I repeated in bewilderment. But he wasn't diabetic. He couldn't be thinking clearly. Or had he not told me he had diabetes?

I started toward him only to have Kana jab the knife at me. "Sit down! Over there!"

I watched from the far end of the sofa as Dad made a weak effort to point to the gla.s.s jar. "Candy." His eyes closed, his mouth sagged open, and his head dropped forward. Drool leaked from his mouth.

Closing his knife and tucking it in his pocket, Kana lifted the gla.s.s jar and held it out in front of Dad. "Is this what you want?"

Dad roused himself and tried to stretch out his hand. "Candy. Hurry."

Kana shook the jar. "Are you sure?"

Dad's jaw was slack, his breathing more labored. "Please," he whispered.

"Then come get them," Kana taunted. He glanced behind him so he wouldn't trip on the books, and in that split second, Dad cast me a look that explained everything. There wasn't anything wrong with him. He had a plan!

"Come on, old man. Here they are," Kana coaxed, shaking the jar.

Dad winced convincingly as he attempted to grip the wheels to move the chair forward.

"Not in your chair," Kana sneered. "Get up! On your feet. What kind of a big man are you that you can't get up and come get them?"

As Dad slumped over, I said, "Please, Mr. Kana. My dad's about to go into diabetic shock. He could die unless he gets sugar into his system. You don't want another murder on your hands, do you?"

"Hey, old man." Kana jostled the wheelchair with his foot until Dad dragged his head up. "Pay attention." Then Kana removed the lid, dug out a handful of hearts, and displayed them in his palm. "Are you willing to beg for these to save your life?"

Dad murmured something, his head sagging. I held my breath as Kana moved up close, until he was inches from Dad's face. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you."

"Please," Dad rasped, "I beg you."

"That's more like it." Kana held out his hand, offering him the candy.

I bit my lip as Dad lifted a trembling hand. What if he were forced to swallow them?

With a smug grin, Kana withdrew the candy. "Perhaps . . . I should eat them instead." He tilted his head back and let the red hearts slide from his cupped palm into his mouth. He moaned as he chewed, as though they were delicious.

At once his eyes widened and his mouth opened like a fish as he dragged in air to cool his burning tongue. But that merely caused him to choke and cough up red goo. He tried to sc.r.a.pe the sticky candy off his tongue. He clawed at his throat, as though to rip out the searing heat.

In a swift, sure motion, Dad grabbed Kana's arm with one strong hand and yanked him forward onto his knees, then gripped Kana's throat with his other hand, practically lifting him in the air. "No one threatens my family," he sneered.

As the Hawaiian fought to free himself, Dad tumbled forward, taking himself and Kana to the floor. "Get my cuffs from the drawer," Dad ordered, keeping up his choke hold.

I ran for the handcuffs in the bottom kitchen drawer, but I yanked the drawer open with so much force that it fell to the floor, spilling the contents. Quickly I scooped up the handcuffs and ran back.

Dad had one of Kana's arms stretched out to the side. His other hand was on Kana's throat. "Snap a cuff on his wrist."

Kana's face was deep red and his eyes watery. Clearly he was in pain, yet even as he gasped for air, he managed a last effort to push my dad away. But Dad held him easily while I followed his commands.

"Loop the cuff around the sofa leg," Dad said.

Quickly, I obeyed, then fastened that cuff on Kana's other wrist.

"Now call the cops," Dad said. He rolled onto the floor, putting distance between himself and the Hawaiian, then pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned against the sofa, breathing hard.

For a second all I could do was stare at my father in awe. I thought I needed to protect him, yet he had saved both of us. He was still the brave police officer I'd always admired. Tears misted my eyes. There was only one cripple in the room, and it wasn't Dad.

At a heavy pounding on the front door, I jumped.

"Police. Open up."

I ran to open the door and there was Reilly and five of New Chapel's finest. I stepped back and they poured into the living room. Behind them stood my hero-make that Marco-who didn't appear to be injured. I threw myself into his arms and leaned my head against his chest, my arms around his waist. "Marco, thank G.o.d you're all right! Kana said you were in an accident."

"It's okay, Sunshine," he said, stroking my hair. "I wasn't hurt."

I lifted my head to gaze at him. "You were in an accident?"

"Yes, and lucky for me I had that defensive driver training. But there's an injured limo driver on his way to the hospital and a badly damaged black Cadillac wrapped around a pole at the intersection of Lincoln and Franklin. Are you all right?"

"Thanks to some quick thinking by my dad, we're both all right. Marco, Dad was amazing. He tricked Kana into eating Mom's red-hot candy, then took him down to the floor in a choke hold. He was fearless."

"That's where you get that quality, Abby, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Really? You think I'm fearless?"

"Fiercely."

We went to see how Dad was faring. He was back in his wheelchair, thanks to the cops, with a cloth pressed to the cut on his neck. Kana had been hauled to his feet, rehandcuffed with his hands behind his back, and searched. He was still drooling and begging for water, which Reilly was just now bringing to him.

I filled Reilly and Marco in on our ordeal, how the brooch had ended up at Bloomers instead of Tom's Green Thumb, Harding's role in the theft, and what I'd been able to get Kana to admit.

"So Kana was the mastermind behind the kidnappings," Reilly said, sizing up the Hawaiian.

"Kana planted a listening device in that flashlight he left for me," I told Marco. "That's how he found out the brooch was here. I dropped it and discovered the bug, so I knew he'd heard me call my mom and tell her to have the brooch ready. I dashed over to pick it up, but Kana got here before I left."

"Why didn't you call me?" Reilly asked. "I would've come to pick it up."

"I-" Didn't have a good reason.

"My fault," Dad said. "I asked her to keep me company." > I smiled Dad my thanks, then glanced over at Kana, who was greedily drinking the water. "Reilly, the knife your guys found in his coat is probably the murder weapon used on Hudge. Kana admitted he slipped into the jail and killed Hudge."

"Wait a minute," Reilly said. "No one can just walk into the county jail."

"Then you might want to have Mr. Kana tell you how to fix that security glitch, because he got in. And check with the cops in Maui, too. I'm guessing his knife might have been used to kill the young man who shipped that brooch here."

"You won't be able to prove a thing," Kana said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"There are people who can help us with that," Marco said. "Like Tom Harding."

"Who, as it happens," Reilly said, "came out of his coma today."

Kana's gaze darted from Marco to Reilly, as though seeking verification, so Reilly added, "Two hours ago. Brain swelling went down. He'll be singing like a bird by tomorrow."

Kana didn't look quite as sure of himself as two officers marched him out to the cruiser.

"Is it true?" I asked Reilly. "Is Harding going to be okay?"

"We still don't know. I just wanted to give the guy something to worry about."

I went to give my dad a big hug. "Diabetic shock. That was an amazing idea."

"Don't sound so surprised," Dad said, but I could tell he was proud of himself.

"You should have seen him in action, Marco." I hugged my father again and whispered in his ear, "I think I have a new hero."

"Abby!" Dad said, giving me a warning look.

"Just kidding."

"So your mom's candy saved the day?" Marco asked, putting the lid on the jar.

I glanced at my dad and we both opened our eyes wide at the enormity of it.

"You can't tell her," I said to Dad.

"Tell her what? That the candy I've been saying nearly wiped out her family ended up saving our lives? Believe me, Ab, she won't hear it from me."

I handed the brooch to Reilly; then we stayed at the house long enough to give statements to the police. Afterward, Marco walked me to the minivan, where I leaned against the side of the van and let him kiss me.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I said. "And I'm very glad you came here with Reilly."

"I had no choice. You gave me an order. 'Pick up the brooch now.' "

I laughed. "You heard only the last part of that message. I had just figured out that Kana was listening in on my conversations, so I was trying to make him think the cops were on their way to my parents' house. Not that it worked."

"After the Cadillac tried to broadside me, I called Bloomers to let you know what happened, and Lottie said you and the minivan were gone. I phoned Reilly and he met me here."

"As Tara would say, you arrived just in the nick of time, like in the movies. Did you ever find out how those anemone petals got smashed into the treads of Charlotte's shoes? Or why Attorney Knowles fired her?"

"Yes to both. When I went back to Tom's Green Thumb to talk to Robin, she reported finding a mess on the stockroom floor after the anemones were delivered. Most of the flowers were destroyed and petals were all over the place. She said it looked like someone had a tantrum. Anyone walking through the stockroom before they'd been cleaned up would have gotten petals stuck on the bottom of their shoes, and deep treads would've held them there.

"Then Harding must have met with Hudge and Bebe before the flowers were cleaned up. He probably threw a fit when they botched the second kidnapping.

"And as for Knowles, he fired Charlotte for stealing office supplies."

"That's it?"

"That's it." He kissed me. "Satisfied?"

"Yes." I gave Marco a hug. "I'm so relieved you're not hurt."

"How do you think I feel about you and your dad? If you had waited for me to take you to your parents' house, none of this would have happened."

Not true. Kana would have showed up before we got there. But it was over and everything had worked out, so why bring it up? "I'm sorry, Marco. I'll try to make sure it never happens again."

He gave me a skeptical look. "You're not going to list your reasons for not waiting?"

"Nope. I'm done with lists. I'd rather contemplate your positive qualities."

"I'm not even going to ask you to explain."

"Okay, you can kiss me again instead."

His mouth curved up at the corner. "We can do a lot more than that."

"Tonight?"

"Later tonight."

Things were looking up.

"And tomorrow," he said, his lips against my ear, "my place for dinner?"

"Perfect. Just the two of us-" I pushed away from him. "Your mother invited me to dinner, didn't she?"

"Yep."

Things were no longer looking up.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.