"Mother. I heard you were out scheming this morning."

Wordlessly I stood beside the silver haired woman under my care while her son, whom I might add had come home before noon for some unknown reason, stood in the kitchen like a very unhappy statue. I did my very best to ignore them both while I prepared lunch. Neither of them should have been in the kitchen I might add. Sadly, we could not always get what we wanted.

The notorious Widow Kido glared something fierce at her eldest son. For someone so tiny she was quite frightening, even in her lovely floral kimono. It did nothing to render her harmless. She sat by the stove smoking which were two things that her son had strictly forbidden.

She was not to be in the kitchen due to her common frequency of tripping. The Chief Inspector of San Francisco also was not so fond of cigarette smoke. Neither was I, however it was not my home. So I had put a chair in the kitchen for her to prevent as much movement as possible.

"I do not scheme. Just ask Grace." She protested, "Who told you I was out? Was it that dreadful woman down the street?" At that she poked my hip with a wooden spoon I'd recklessly left on the counter, her attention then focused on me. "I told you she was a deceitful shrew that cannot be trusted. Didn't I?"

My attention remained solely on the vegetables I had already peeled. That spoon dug again into my hip as I looked for flaws on a near perfect carrot.

It was best not to get between mother and son at such times.

"Do not attempt to get your nurse to conspire with you. And no, your daughter-in-law was not the one who told me you were out this morning, when you should have been here resting. There is a madman out on the streets. I thought we had discussed this at length last night. You will remain home where it is safe."

Between you and me, I agreed. I had not been happy about having to leave the safety of the house to go to fish market. Even my father had warned me about leaving the house. When a crime lord was concerned about the safety of his daughter it was reason to make me reconsider whether I wanted to work outside the house, or if I wanted my father to find a suitable husband for me. Oh sure, I was madly in love with the chief inspector. But hearing all about what the madman had done to three women in the city was enough to make me reconsider many things.

One thing about love was it was just an emotion. Nothing was promised. A future was not guaranteed for us. I'd given up a well-paying job at a tea shop run by an associate of my fathers to live in Kido's home, to be closer to him and see him daily. Yet still we had to hide from the neighbors and our family.

I'd begun to wonder if our stolen moments were enough.

Another jab with the spoon nearly set my tongue on fire.

"We're perfectly safe. That madman is slaughtering blonde women with Nazi connections. I am a not a blonde woman. Neither is Gracie." Said spoon was gestured at my inky hair in proof. "Perhaps if this person continues to kill, the Nazi's will leave the Pacific States. You should give this madman a medal."

Rumor had it the Widow Kido had been different in Japan, the very epitome of gentle womanhood. Upon her husband's death she suffered what my father referred to as 'significant emotional event.' Hence her middle son sending her to California. He claimed that the sun would aid in her recovery. I found it wildly entertaining he sent all of her belongings too.

Yet another poke came, "Gracie, light me another one from the front burner of the stove. I'm almost done with my cigarette. That back burner does not have a very strong flame. We must find another repairman to fix it. One that is not weak this time and unable to accept helpful suggestions."

Even though my back was to her son I swore I could feel his frustration. "Do not say that outside of this house. Don't even invite that sort of trouble. This person is very dangerous and I do not want any strangers under my roof until he is caught. Besides there is nothing wrong with the stove. It is not meant to be a cigarette lighter."

Glad to have an excuse to be out of the kitchen, I dropped the carrot then wiped my hands on my apron. It took all of my restraint to not run from the room. I had absolutely no intention of looking for her cigarette case. So it was the sitting room I ventured.

Kido's tight voice followed me out. "Do not move from that chair. I need to speak with your nurse."

Idle hands and all, I spotted the silver case and tucked it into the cushions of a beige couch. Unlike my former apartment, the house was a fusion of Japan with a touch of California. Smooth wooden floors and sliding panels instead of the doors I was used to. Art from Japan was on the walls and in the sitting room were two couches with a table. It was understated while warmly comfortable.

Kido stepped into the room and slid the panel shut for a small degree of privacy. It was one of the few rooms that did not have windows. That made it one of my favorite rooms.

"What did I tell you last night? This is serious."

I dropped down on the couch and spared him a look, "I took her to the fish market down by the pier. We were in my father's area so his men were around. We were in no danger. Daddy had them pick us up then drop us back here."

A deep breath was exhaled in displeasure.

Beside me the cushion sank beneath Kido's weight. In his usual immaculately pressed black suit he looked every bit the Chief Inspector. I could not help myself. Reaching over, I picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his pants just for the excuse to touch him. His warm hand came down and trapped mine against his knee.

He could not stand my beloved father and the feeling was mutual. At times I was glad that Daddy did not know. He certainly would have despised Kido even more.

"What's wrong? Those dark circles are back. Is it my mother?"

Oh his mother.

Oddly enough, she was not the most stressful person in my life. Shaking my head I sagged against him before I remembered we were not alone in the home. A strong arm wrapped around my back to prevent me from sitting up. When he pressed his lips to my temple I found myself softening against him.

"No. It's not your mother. I just did not sleep well. The neighbors next door were fighting again." I elected not to tell him I was thinking of spending a few nights over at my father's home. Being sequestered at the other end of the house was lonesome. If I could not spend those nightly hours with him, why not just spend them in my family home?

"You're lying."

He of all people would know. After four years together he could read me like one of my banned books. Those dark eyes of his searched mine for an answer. So I went for a partial truth. "I've just felt…out of sorts lately." My thumb stroked the crisp fabric of his pants.

"Things have been difficult these past few weeks."

Hesitantly I nodded in confirmation. He always did seem to know what I needed, what I did not and possessed the wisdom to know the difference. Softly he traced his thumb over my lips in a future promise, pressed his lips to my forehead and my eyebrows, my cheek and nose.

"We will spend tonight together. I promise. Relax…get some rest today."