“Okay, so of course I never knew her. She’d been dead almost seven years when I met Phil. He was still married to what’s-her-name, Rita, but that marriage was going south fast. I sold real estate. In fact, I sold your dad the Honolulu property in the video. Real nice views. Totally remodeled, inside and out. Four-car garage. It had granite everywhere, Brazilian hardwood floors, and even gold-plated fixtures in the master bath.”
“How does this relate to my mom?”
“Hold your horses, I’m getting to that. So anyway, right after Phil and I hooked up I realized the guy had issues. He always seemed on edge, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I asked him about it again and again but he claimed it was just the stress of running the cable company. Back in those days, cable was cut-throat. But Phil had friends in high places. His family back in Oregon had beaucoup bucks and since he was now their only son they didn’t mind throwing a little cash his way when he needed it.”
“He was the only one left because his brother had committed suicide,” I said. I’d remembered that from Phil’s video.
“Yeah, after Vietnam. Phil said his brother was messed up in the head.”
I looked up. The sun was still high in the sky but at this rate I’d need to catch my flight home before I learned anything of value.
“Joanie, I’m sorry to rush you, but doesn’t your flight leave at four o’clock?”
“Yeah, right. Well, here it is. Your mom didn’t die of natural causes. And it wasn’t an accident, either.”
I was half-expecting something like that, but still I felt the blood rush to my ears. I could hear a faint thud, thud, thud in my left ear.
“How did she die?”
“Before we get to that, let me say I got this on good authority. This isn’t just idle gossip.”
I shot her a puzzled look.
“Phil told me this himself. He said he didn’t abandon your mom. He kept in touch. That’s why when he found out about her getting killed he took it real hard.”
“Was he… I mean, did he have anything to do it?”
“No way. He said he loved her ‘like a rock.’ You know, like that old Paul Simon song, ‘Love Me Like a Rock’? He never got over what happened.”
“What did happen?”
“He told me a jealous guy who had a crush on her came in and killed her one night after she’d snubbed him. Phil said the guy was probably hopped up on something. Those Kaua'i hippies were always smokin’ weed and dropping acid and stuff like that.”
“But Auntie Mana said she’d died of a cerebral hemorrhage.”
“Well, according to your father, the guy hit her over the head with a piece of wood or something. She got a bad concussion that made her brain bleed. Seems she died before she got to the hospital.”
Images of my mother cowering under the blows of a crazed attacker flashed before me. “Did they catch the guy?”
“No. According to Phil, he totally got away with it.”
“If my dad loved my mom so much why didn’t he demand justice for her?”
“He said he wanted to, but there was a big cover-up. And that’s why he was nervous all the time after he moved back to Hawaii. He said he thought the family involved in the cover-up might come after him.”
“Why?”
“Because they knew he knew.”
Joanie flipped her cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of a very pointy black patent pump. Steve would’ve no doubt gushed over those shoes. I stealthily slid my foot next to hers to check if they’d fit. Nope, her feet were at least two sizes too big. Not that I’d expect her to trade her Rodeo Drive pumps for my ABC Store flip-flops, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“You’re saying my mom was murdered,” I said by way of a wrap up.
“I’m afraid so. And your dad never got over it. I guess that’s why he left you all that dough. It’s totally unfair to my kids, but I guess I’ll let sleeping dogs lie.” She shook her head. “Excuse me for being honest, but your dad was a total dog. Half the crap that came out of his mouth was lies.”
“But he never told you who he thought killed my mom?”
“No. He said the guy was from an important family, and if he told me then I’d be in danger too. He said the killer’s old man had lots of clout and lots of dough.”
I thanked her for meeting with me and we got up and retraced our steps through the parking lot. When we crossed the busy airport road, she veered left toward the overseas terminal and I headed right to the interisland gates.
I took out my cellphone and checked the time. My flight to Maui left in twenty minutes.
***
My flight was delayed. First, they said it would be fifteen minutes. Then, after fifteen minutes they said there was a mechanical problem and they were waiting for a mechanic to check it out. By the time the next flight had boarded, they’d cancelled my flight.
“I’ve got to get to Maui,” I told the gate agent. “I’ve got an urgent appointment.”
“Our next flight is at six-forty-five,” she said. “But I’m afraid it’s oversold. We can probably get you on the seven-ten. It’ll get you into Kahului around seven-forty-five.”
The banquet began with cocktails at six and then dinner at seven.
I called Hatch and told him I couldn’t make it.
“What the hell?” he shouted. “You promised me, Pali. Now I’m going to be the only guy without a date. I’m gonna look like a frickin’ loser.” I assumed he’d be disappointed, but what did the yelling accomplish? Then I remembered that guys like Hatch don’t do sadness; they do anger. I’d seen it plenty of times in martial arts. A guy loses a fight in a competition. He bows to his opponent like he’s supposed to, and then he goes out to his car and kicks in the door panel.
“I sorry. I was really looking forward to it.”
“Then why’d you go running off to Honolulu at the last minute?”
“Hatch, it’s complicated. I had to hear what my dad’s ex-wife had to say.”
“I went and got someone to cover my shift today so I could go to this thing. And now if I don’t show up everyone will know I’m just sitting home with my finger in my…. And I’m up for that award, too.”
“What award?”
“What does it matter? The point is, now I can’t go.”
“Hatch, I said I was sorry.” A beat went by and I said, “Okay, I’ve got an idea. How about you invite Farrah? I’m sure she’ll go. She’d do anything for you.”
“You think? But she won’t be able to fit in your new dress.”
“I think you’re gonna have to be okay with a date wearing a caftan.”
“But I was really looking forward to seeing you in that dress.”
“I’d love to be there. But I can’t.”
“I forgot to ask about your mom,” he said. “What’d you find out?”
I looked around and everyone in the gate area was glaring at me. Nobody likes a waiting room blabbermouth who pollutes the air with their personal drama. “I’d rather not talk about it right now. Have fun tonight.”
“I’ll try. But you owe me.”
“I know.”
We hung up and I stared out the window. I felt bad about missing Hatch’s banquet, but maybe it was for the best. How could I eat, drink and make merry when I’d just learned my mother had been bludgeoned to death?
CHAPTER 16
As I slumped in my seat at the interisland terminal it occurred to me I was already halfway to Kaua'i. I got out my cell phone and the business card Sunny had given me.
“Aloha,” she said.
“Aloha, Sunny. It’s me Pali.”
“Hey, good to hear from you. Are you here on Kaua'i?”
“Not yet. But I’m in Honolulu and I thought if you wouldn’t mind I’d come over a day early.”
“Sounds great. I’ll have my driver pick you up at the airport.”
“That’s okay. I can rent a car,” I said.
“No, no, totally unnecessar
y. Timo will be glad to have a reason to get out of here.”
I turned in my Kahului return ticket and paid the difference for the flight to Lihue. Then I called Sunny to let her know when I’d be landing. “Great. When you get here, go outside and keep an eye out for a white Range Rover.”
By the time I made it off the plane and through the Lihue terminal it’d been nearly half an hour beyond the time I’d given Sunny. I rushed outside and spotted a big Range Rover slowly driving along the airport circle road. I waved and Sunny’s driver, Timo, pulled over. He jumped out and dashed around the car to open the back door.
“Can I sit up front with you?” I said. I thought it’d feel weird to sit in the back all by myself. And I wanted to talk to the guy and see if he had anything to say about working for my father.
Timo scowled and slammed the door. I climbed into the passenger seat and we headed out. The guy was no chatterbox. In fact, he answered even basic ‘icebreaker’ questions with a ‘dunno’ or a shrug.
We drove up the highway to Kapa’a and then just beyond town, Timo turned inland, or mauka.
“Phil Wilkerson didn’t live on the ocean?” I said.
“No,” he said. He looked over at me and must’ve realized I was growing weary of his sullen responses because he went on. “He had other places that were on the water. But here he liked the peace and quiet. You’ll see.”
We turned at a single-lane road with a metal gate across it. Timo used a remote to open the gate and soon the bumpy dirt road became just two dirt ruts winding through overgrown vegetation. The car jostled up and down at such a pitch I had to grip the armrest to keep from whacking my head on the side window.
“Wow, this is pretty secluded,” I said. Outside, the car was traveling through what I would have described as ‘jungle.’ Thick green foliage brushed against the sides of the car, and it was hard to see more than ten feet ahead.
“Yeah. Like I tell you, Mr. Phil liked privacy.”
When we finally came within view of the house it was like being in an airplane popping out of the clouds into bright sunshine. We went from deep green overgrowth to a wide open meadow of manicured lawn. A steep mountain jutted up from behind the house.
“This is like a fairy tale,” I said. The large house was plantation-style, with a shallow sloping gabled roof and a covered lanai, or what mainlanders call a ‘porch’, that wrapped completely around. The main floor of the house was raised about five feet off the ground and there were wide steps leading up to the main level.
“Do you know the name of that mountain?” I said. I was expecting Timo to toss me another ‘dunno’ but he surprised me.
“That there is Sleeping Giant,” he said pointing to the main peak. “In Hawaiian, we call it Nounou. The legend is that a giant drank too much at a party. He laid down to take a nap and he never got up. See his hands on his belly?”
“Wow. Like I said, this place reminds me of a fairy tale.”
Sunny came out on the lanai to greet us. She waved as if welcoming home a long lost relative. Then it hit me—she was my step-mother. It felt weird to claim her as a family member, and especially weird that a woman five years younger than me would qualify for the ‘mother’ category.
“Pali, e komo mai to my humble home,” she said as I got out. Humble? Hardly.
“Timo, please bring up Pali’s luggage,” she said gesturing for me to join her.
“I don’t have any luggage, Sunny,” I said. “I got called to Honolulu unexpectedly. I may need to go to Kapa’a to pick up a few things before court on Monday.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “I’ve got everything you’ll need right here. Fresh toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, you name it. And you can borrow a nightshirt and even a change of underwear if you’d like. We’re about the same size.”
Oh great. Now I’d be literally getting into my step-mother’s pants. Why had I thought coming over here on the fly was a good idea?
Timo drove off to who knows where to park the car. Sunny laid a hand on my shoulder. “Oh good news,” she said. “Peggy called and said she’s willing to talk about not contesting the will.”
The ex-wives keep in touch? How many women do that?
Sunny went on, “But she reminded me that she’s got four years to think about it.”
“Four years?”
“Yeah, so even if the judge says the probate is a go, anyone can come in later and mess it up.” She nodded to a grouping of chairs on the lanai. “You want to sit out here or go inside?”
“Out here’s good.” I said. “So just anybody can contest it?”
“No, silly. They have to be an heir.”
Something about her patronizing tone made me clench my right hand. I decided to forgo the small talk and cut to the chase. “Sunny, I met with Joanie at the Honolulu airport and she told me my mother had been murdered.”
“What?”
“Yeah, she said my dad told her about it. She said Phil told her a jealous guy killed her and he got away with it because he was from a prominent family.” I stared at Sunny, watching her eyes to see whether I could pick up if she’d heard the same story from Phil.
“Wow, that’s crazy,” she said. “Do you believe her?”
“Why would she lie?”
“Who knows? Maybe because she’s still pissed that Phil left you the money. You know, she can be nasty.”
“True. But I always thought there was something fishy about how my mother died. My Auntie Mana used to talk about my mom all the time, but she never once said anything about how she died.”
“The locals here are like that. They don’t talk much about death and dying.”
“But if she died in a car wreck or from an illness or something, why not just say it? It’s not like I wanted gruesome details.”
“Maybe you should ask her.”
“Auntie Mana died right after I finished college.” It occurred to me that Phil would have known that if he’d been following me like he claimed in his video.
“You know, when you’re talking prominent families on Kaua'i, it’s hard to beat the Chestertons,” said Sunny. “Peggy’s father was mayor of the island in the eighties and nineties. And her brother AJ was kind of a stoner. Phil said AJ straightened up later, and I guess now he’s big in resort development. But don’t believe everything you hear. Joanie and Peggy never liked each other and one’s always bad-mouthing the other one. Maybe Joanie just told you that out of spite.”
“Could be.”
“You know, Phil and Joanie had a knock-down, drag-out divorce. And partly it was because he stayed tight with the Chestertons his whole life. I was cool with it, and I’m sure the other wives were too. I mean, the Chesterton name opens doors around here. But Joanie never understood why Phil kept toadying up to his ex-in-laws.”
“Do you think what Joanie told me was a lie?”
“What do you think?”
In the silence that followed, I looked out from my comfortable perch on the lanai. The light was beginning to fade, but the view was still astounding. The house was surrounded by a wide lawn bordered by a wall of palms, wide-leaf Hawaiian philodendron, ti plants and brilliant red and yellow crotons.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said.
“Yeah, this house was your father’s favorite. He died right where you’re sitting.”
I turned to her, speechless.
Sunny shrugged. “One minute he was here and the next he wasn’t. It was a real crappy day, for sure.”
Again we lapsed into silence.
Sunny stood up. “Let me get you something to drink.” She went inside and came out with a pitcher and two wine glasses. “I call this ‘island sangria’,” she said. She held up the pitcher. Her island sangria was sweet white wine infused with chunks of orange, papaya and pineapple. She poured me a glass. I was thirsty and the sweet wine went down easy. By my second glass, I wasn’t hearing much of what she was saying.
“I’m feeling a little sick,” I said dragging myself up
and out of the chair. Although I’m sure it came out more like fella lil sock since the wine had definitely messed with my lip/tongue coordination.
“Why don’t I take you out to the ohana? You can take a nap before we have dinner.”
The ohana, or guest house, was about a hundred yards from the main house. It was totally private, thanks to a tall hedge between it and the house. The driveway made a detour to the front of the ohana and then continued around to join up with the rutted road leading out to the highway.
Although it was only one story, the ohana was larger than my house in Hali’imaile. It had three bedrooms plus a spacious den, a living room, a full kitchen, two and a half baths and a sun porch. The place could’ve easily sheltered a family of four.
“This is gorgeous, Sunny,” I said. “I’m sorry but I’m going to need the bathroom right away.”
I went into the nearby powder room and barely made it to the toilet in time. It must have been something I ate. Or maybe it was drinking on an empty stomach. Whatever it was, I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face and I felt a bit better.
“Are you okay?” said Sunny when I came back out.
“I’m fine, but it’s been a stressful day. If it’s okay with you I think I’ll skip dinner. I’m not that hungry.”
“Okay. Well then, just relax. Your father loved this ohana,” she said. “He loved to come out here to enjoy the quiet.”
When she left, I plopped down on the tropical-print tapestry sofa and ran my hand across the nubby fabric. My dad had sat on that sofa, probably even slept out on it. He’d no doubt looked out the wide windows of the sun porch and gazed at Sleeping Giant Mountain. I wanted to contemplate the enormity of what I’d learned in the past four days but weariness came over me. I stretched out my legs and before I knew it I’d conked out.
CHAPTER 17
Was the pounding in my head? No, it was coming from somewhere else. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. It was pitch black outside and someone was pounding on the door. I got up but my knees buckled and I plopped back down. I heard a voice yelling my name from the other side of the door.
4 Kaua'i Me a River Page 10