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The Blessed Event

Page 20

by Frankie Bow


  I longed to crawl between the crisp sheets, but like Esther Greenwood in The Bell Jar, I couldn’t bear do it without getting cleaned up first. Walking from the library to Donnie’s and then up to my house and back to the library had been sweaty work. I went into the bathroom and took a long, luxurious shower. I toweled off and slipped my clean body into clean sweats and a fresh t-shirt. It felt marvelous. I wrapped the towel around my hair turban-style to soak up the extra moisture, and opened the bathroom door.

  To see Andy De Silva standing there. Right in my room, with his fist raised, as if to knock on the bathroom door. Or strike me.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  I slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it.

  “Professor?” I heard De Silva say through the door.

  How had he found out? Donnie must have called Gloria and told her about my suspicions. And Gloria, heedless of her safety or mine, must have called De Silva right away, telling him she was onto him and blabbing everything.

  De Silva would have denied it, of course. But then he came right down here, looking for me. He was wearing an aloha shirt and trousers, not his uniform. This was a bad sign. It meant he wasn’t on duty. He was here on his own time.

  “Professor?” He knocked on the door. “It’s me. Andy De Silva.”

  “How did you get in?” I yelled.

  “Your room door was open.”

  He was lying. Or maybe he wasn’t lying. I’d been having trouble pulling that heavy door shut. Had I made sure to close it all the way when I came in? I couldn’t remember now.

  He knocked again.

  “Professor? You got a minute?”

  I had stupidly assumed that I would be safe from the outside world here. And now look. Instead of protecting me, the hotel staff had probably told him exactly which room I was staying in. If I lived through this, I’d never hear the end of it from Donnie.

  “Professor, please. I gotta talk to you.”

  “How did you know I was staying here?” I shouted through the door.

  “Went by the Drive-Inn, talked to your husband just now.”

  He certainly didn’t seem too worried about covering his tracks. Maybe he was planning to go back and murder Donnie, too. Or perhaps he’d already murdered Donnie, once he had the information he needed.

  I considered yelling for help, but it was no good. The Lehua Inn was sturdy. Even at close range, De Silva’s voice was muffled by the solid door between us.

  My phone. Where was my phone? Out in the room. On the night table. Charging.

  I had to signal for help somehow. Maybe if I banged on the faucet, it would set the pipes ringing. I had to hit it with something hard. The most solid-looking object in the bathroom was the blow dryer. I picked it up and brought it down hard on the faucet.

  The first two times I hit the faucet with the blow dryer, it made an unimpressive plinking noise. On the third hit, a big plastic piece broke off and skittered across the floor.

  This obviously wasn’t going to work.

  “Professor?” De Silva called. “You okay?”

  “I’m getting help. You’d better leave right now.”

  “What?”

  I stopped the bathtub drain and opened the faucet to full volume. Then I plugged in the blow dryer and turned it on. The cord was long enough. Maybe I could get the attention of hotel security by plunging the Lehua Inn into darkness. When the tub had filled to a depth of about six inches, I switched on the blow dryer. Despite having a piece broken off, it was still working. I held the roaring blow dryer in both hands and tossed it into the tub, bracing for an explosion.

  Instead, I heard a click as the dryer shut off. The safety mechanism was working flawlessly. Great.

  I unplugged the dryer, fished it out of the bathtub, shook the water off, and placed it back on the counter.

  The bathtub. I could flood the place. It would take a while, but when water started dripping into the room below, surely someone would come up to investigate. I would still have a chance to escape with my life, if not my dignity.

  More knocking.

  “Professor, you okay? Your husband was worried about you, you know.”

  Sure he was, you murdering liar.

  I stuffed a washcloth into the tub’s overflow hole, opened the faucet, and watched the water rush out and fill the tub. When it got to a depth of about six inches, it was no longer colorless. It was a luminous greenish blue, like my Thunderbird. That’s why the color’s called aqua, because it’s the color of water. If I lived through this, I could share my mildly interesting observation with Emma.

  The water in the tub brimmed and then sloshed over the side.

  “I’m flooding the place,” I called out.

  De Silva didn’t answer me. I pressed my ear to the door, hoping he wouldn’t shoot through it. I heard voices, albeit faintly.

  De Silva had brought an accomplice with him? This was even worse than I thought.

  I sat on the closed toilet, cross legged, and watched the water gush over the side of the tub. It coursed across the floor in waves and disappeared under the door. Sorry, Lehua Inn management, you’re going to have to replace the carpet. But it’s better than having to mop up a murder scene, right?

  De Silva was banging on the door again. I squeezed my eyes shut and hugged my knees tight. I’d wait him out. As long as he didn’t start shooting, I’d be fine.

  Then I heard someone else with him, and the pounding intensified. I thought the door was going to rattle off its hinges.

  “Molly. You crazy or what?”

  I stared at the door.

  “Emma?”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  I pulled the plug on the bathtub to let it drain.

  Andy De Silva, Emma, and I pulled all the fresh towels down from the rack and laid them on the floor to soak up the water.

  “We should open the sliding door,” Emma said. “Let the room dry out.”

  Andy hurried over to open the door to the balcony.

  “Molly.”

  “What?”

  “What were you doing in the bathroom?”

  I glanced at De Silva, who was struggling with the lock on the sliding door.

  “He showed up in my room. I was alone and trying to signal for help. What would you have done, Emma?”

  De Silva yanked the door all the way open and came back to join us, trailing a warm breeze from outside.

  “Aw, sorry, ah Professor? Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to be scared by a man lurking outside my bathroom door? What was I supposed to think?”

  “Sorry,” he repeated.

  “Officer De Silva called me, you know.” Emma tapped her temple. “He thought you’d lost it.”

  “How did you know to call Emma?” I asked him.

  “I redialed the last number on your phone. I got Professor Nakamura.”

  “Oh, now you’re picking up the phone, Emma? Wait a minute. Officer, if you thought I’d ‘lost it,’ why didn’t you call for backup or something? In fact, why aren’t you in uniform? You’re not on duty, are you?”

  “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” De Silva looked uncomfortable. “It’s all wet in here.”

  I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we walked into the pancake-scented Lehua Inn Coffee Shop. Emma and I scooted into one side of the booth. Andy De Silva sat opposite, facing us. We all ordered coffee and pie.

  “Eh, nice earrings,” Emma said. “Those the ones you thought Davison took?”

  “Yes, they’re the same earrings. I didn’t want to leave them in the room.”

  “Those the earrings you reported missing?” De Silva looked them over. “Lucky they turned up.”

  “Well?” Emma propped her elbows on the Formica tabletop. “Who’s gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  “Sorry, Professor Barda. Didn’t know you’d get so scared when I showed up. I just wanted to talk to you about Gloria. She’s in big trouble, you know.”

  �
��Eh,” Emma chimed in. “How come you’re asking Molly about it? If anyone can help her, it’s you, officer.”

  “I wanna help her. But cannot.”

  “How can that be?” I asked. “She has a friend on the force, the best lawyer money can buy, and the least sympathetic victim imaginable.”

  De Silva shook his head hopelessly.

  “You really want to help Gloria?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Not watch her rot in prison?”

  “Prison?” He looked stunned. “Why would I want that? I lo—I don’t want her to go to prison.”

  “Officer De Silva. Why did you sneak into my room?”

  “I didn’t sneak. You didn’t answer when I knocked, and the door was open, so I came in. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Why me? I’m not a lawyer.”

  “Yeah,” Emma echoed. “Why her?”

  “Look. Remember when you told us in the class what to do when you got a difficult problem that needs a creative solution? You gotta get different people on it, with their diverse points of view and life experiences.”

  “I did say that.” I nodded.

  “So that’s what I’m doing. Hoping you could help.”

  “You’re asking for my help?”

  “Exactly, yeah.”

  “Uh oh,” Emma said.

  “I have some information, officer. But I’m not sure it’ll help Gloria. I saw her flight itinerary. She came into Mahina a couple of days before she showed up at our house. And no one knows where she was when Iulani Malufau was killed. Not even her husband. Or her lawyer.”

  “Yeah, we know all about it.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s how come she’s in trouble to begin with. She gave a false statement to the police as to her whereabouts. If it wasn’t for that, they mighta wrote it off as an accident. But her giving the contradictory statement made everyone suspicious.”

  “Why’d she do something so dumb as lie to the police?” Emma demanded.

  De Silva’s voice was soft.

  “She didn’t have a choice, you know. When her ex escaped, Gloria was worried he might come after her brother.”

  “He was going to come after Donnie?” I said.

  “And the boy, too. She thought Davison was safe at his college on the mainland. But when she called here to warn her brother, you answered the phone, Professor. Remember? You told her the boy was right here in Mahina. Staying at your house, even.”

  “She flew out here and killed da kine to protect Davison?” Emma said.

  “Nah, nah, nah. She never killed him. She came to me for help.”

  “You killed ’em then,” Emma said.

  “No,” De Silva objected. “I never.”

  “She was with you, wasn’t she?” I said. “The days she was missing. She was the woman you were with at the Pair-O-Dice.”

  De Silva nodded and stared into his coffee.

  “I’m Gloria’s alibi. That’s how come the missing day and a half. She wasn’t killing Iulani Malufau. Neither was I. But we cannot tell anyone.”

  “How come you’re telling Molly, then?” Emma demanded.

  “He’s telling you too, Emma,” I pointed out.

  “Maybe she can figure out how to stop all this without Gloria getting in trouble. Professor Barda’s family. She sees Gloria every day. And I can trust her.”

  I was about to thank De Silva when he added, “The consulting contract has a confidentiality clause. I know Professor Barda’s not gonna tell anyone about our conversation. She’d get sued, that’s why.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Emma turned to glower at me. “Molly, did you even read that thing before you signed it?”

  “Emma, I always keep class discussion confidential. We all have to, because of FERPA. Why would I think this would be any different? Oh, and you can’t say anything about this conversation either, because it might get traced back to me.”

  “Why’d you even sign up for that stupid community speaker da kine anyway?”

  “Listen, I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Never volunteer.”

  “Emma, I know.”

  “Professors,” De Silva interrupted. “I’m not trying to make trouble. But you gotta help me.”

  “So let me get the timeline straight,” I said. “Gloria called to warn Donnie that her ex had escaped—”

  “She gotta do this every time,” Emma stage-whispered to De Silva. “She got a real orderly mind, OCD kine.”

  “Emma, you’re not helping. Anyway, when I told Gloria Davison was in Mahina, she decided to come here in person. Because she was afraid for Davison. But she didn’t bother to tell Donnie. Even though it would’ve been the first time they’d seen each other in years.”

  De Silva nodded, encouraging me to go on.

  “Why wouldn’t she let Donnie know she was on her way? Why didn’t she tell me, ‘Thanks, I think I will take you up on your invitation to visit Mahina’?”

  “’Cause your husband’s such a boy scout, he’d never help her get rid of her ex like she wanted,” Emma said. “He’d tell her, ‘Leave it to the authorities. They’ll take care of it. Don’t get involved.’”

  “Too true.” I sighed. “So officer, when you found the body, did you know it was Malufau before I identified him?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t even recognize ’em until you said it was him. He didn’t look much like his picture by the time we found ’em.”

  “How did you know it was him?” Emma asked.

  “I recognized his clothes first. I’d rather not think about it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Fine. So officer, Gloria comes to you, says eh big boy, help me get rid of my pilau ex, and then?”

  “I couldn’t do anything for her. There already was an alert out for Malufau. Wasn’t much more I could do than tell Gloria we were already looking for him.”

  “I can’t imagine she was satisfied,” I said. “So what happened?”

  “I told her, ‘Stay with me as long as you want.’ Then right afterward, her husband Skye showed up in Mahina, and then you made the call reporting her missing. She knew she had to leave my place then, so she went over to your guys’ house.”

  “You must have known her husband would notice that she was missing,” I said. “Did you know she was married?”

  “Did she?” Emma chimed in.

  “Aw, come on. We knew it wasn’t right. It was just—you know how it goes. She called me, said she was here, and could I get her at the airport. We started talking about old times, kinda reconnecting like, and then you know how it is, yeah?”

  “No,” Emma and I said in unison.

  “So you’re Gloria’s sole alibi?” I asked.

  “Right. I am her alibi. But I cannot say nothing. Unless I wanna ruin her life.”

  “You two should come clean,” Emma said. “You know what’ll ruin her life? Spending the rest of it in prison.”

  “You could say you were with her,” I suggested. “That doesn’t mean you were with her. People won’t necessarily assume the worst.”

  De Silva looked hangdog.

  “The husband doesn’t trust me.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  De Silva’s cheeks flushed pink.

  Emma widened her eyes at him.

  “Oh, you and Gloria hooked up before?”

  De Silva tugged on his collar.

  “Me and her go way back, you know. We got a connection, like. So, Professor, what can I do?”

  “I really don’t know what to tell you, officer. I’m stumped.”

  “You gotta think of something. Please.” He glanced up at the coffee shop’s wall clock. “I gotta go report for my shift. Sorry again for the misunderstanding, Professor Barda.”

  When De Silva left, Emma moved to the other side of the booth, facing me.

  “Thanks for coming down to rescue me,” I said.

  “You didn’t need to be rescued from De Silva. He called me wh
en you tried to flood the hotel. If anything, I rescued you from your own lolo self.”

  “How was I supposed to know De Silva was harmless?”

  “Yeah, fair enough. Sure, I’ll take the credit for saving your life. Oh thanks, ah?”

  Emma and I moved our cups out to the edge of the table so the waitress could refill them.

  “I was sure De Silva was the murderer.” I took a sip of the coffee. The mild Kona blend paired perfectly with the luscious apple pie. “And I really thought he was framing Gloria. I guess it was silly to think he’d been holding a grudge since high school.”

  “Nah, that’s not silly. There’s still people I hate from preschool.”

  “Well, his story fills in a lot of gaps. Gloria was with De Silva between the time she landed at Mahina Airport and the time she showed up at our house, so there’s one mystery solved. And it explains why she won’t tell anyone where she was. At least not while her husband is around.”

  “So speaking of husbands,” Emma said. “You gonna stay here another night avoiding Donnie or what?”

  “I should at least call him. Tell him Gloria has an alibi.”

  “You really wanna tell Donnie his sister’s been cheating on her husband?”

  “What, am I supposed to keep it to myself?”

  “Yes, you’re supposed to keep it to yourself. Cause look. Either Donnie already knows, or he doesn’t.” Emma counted off the possibilities on her stubby fingers. “If he already knows about it, he’s just gonna be upset you found out about it, too. And if he doesn’t, and you’re the one to tell him, how do you think he’s gonna take it? Ever heard of shooting the messenger?”

  “Good point. And what can he do about it, anyway? Nothing. Maybe I should talk to Gloria directly.”

  “Nah, Molly, don’t do it. She already knows she has an alibi. If she doesn’t wanna use it, that’s her business. I mean, if it was me, I’d come clean, and just take the consequences with my husband finding out.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Gloria can’t come clean.”

  “Why not? Of course she can. She’s just gonna have a lotta ’splaining to do.”

  “No, because Skye’s parents are the ones who are paying for her fancy lawyer. If it comes out she was spending the night with her old boyfriend, I doubt the parents will keep footing the bill for Alika Feinman.”

 

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