Banana Split

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Dear Charlie,

  I know it’s hard to understand why I would have to leave, but I can’t be the mom I should be. I can’t take care of you, but I want you to have a happy life. I love you so much, and I know that you’ll be safe now. I’m sorry for not being a good mom and for not saying good-bye. Be a good boy and trust in God to make all things right.

  Love,

  Mom

  When she finished reading, Sadie took a shaky breath and read it again. When she finished the second time, however, she felt more confused than ever. What did this mean? Was it a suicide note? Who would give a suicide note to their child? She thought back to the things Charlie had said and wondered if he’d interpreted it to mean his mom was just going away—leaving him with CeeCee. That fit better with what Pastor Darryl had told her except that Noelani had wound up dead in the ocean.

  What if Noelani had planned to leave, but then something happened and she’d ended up dead? But then why had she bought the coffee? And why leave work in the middle of her shift and say it was because of Charlie?

  She looked at the flower drawn next to Charlie’s name and wondered why it reminded her of the mural she’d seen on the wall of the church kitchen.

  “Can I come in now?”

  Sadie looked up at Gayle, who was peeking through the sliding glass door.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, coming to her feet. “I got distracted.”

  “No worries,” Gayle said, though she was obviously annoyed as she wiped the sweat from her face. She frowned at her now-wet hand and moved to the sink. “What did the fat man want that was too sensitive for me to hear?”

  After Gayle had dried her hands, Sadie handed her the note card and explained what Mr. Olie had told her about Nat and CeeCee. “Why would Noelani give this to her son?” Sadie asked after Gayle read the note. “I can’t think of any reason a mother would think that was a good idea.”

  “Other than letting him down gently,” Gayle said. “But, yeah, that doesn’t fit. She didn’t leave, she died. And if she was suicidal, why announce that to your kid?”

  “I can’t help but wonder when Charlie got this note.”

  “What do you mean?” Gayle asked.

  “He’d just had a visitation with his mother—a visitation his mom was so excited about that she risked upsetting her boss and making things difficult for her coworkers to make sure it happened. Why go to all that trouble and then send him a suicide note?” Sadie looked at the envelope in her hand. “And this wasn’t mailed. Unless it came in another envelope, I suppose. But then CeeCee would probably have seen it and not have discovered it under his pillow.”

  “Good points,” Gayle said, handing the note back to Sadie.

  “I don’t think Noelani had anything to do with this note,” Sadie said, replacing it inside the envelope. She questioned her confidence in that belief but realized that’s what she truly thought. “She’d worked so hard in his best interest that to end it with something like this just does not fit for me.”

  “Who else would send it?”

  “Bets said she thought it would be better for Charlie to believe his mother had left and that if her body hadn’t been found, that’s what everyone would have believed.”

  “Why would she say that?” Gayle said, looking slightly horrified.

  “Exactly.” Sadie waved the note again. “Noelani lived with Bets and Pastor Darryl for months. What are the chances there’s a handwriting sample lying around their apartment somewhere?”

  “You think Bets could mimic Noelani’s handwriting?”

  “The only person she needed to fool was Charlie. What eleven-year-old boy pays close enough attention to his mother’s handwriting to be able to tell a forgery?” She pointed at the flower on the front of the envelope. “And Bets is an artist. She painted an amazing mural on the wall of the church with flowers that, if I’m remembering correctly, look an awful lot like this.”

  Gayle spoke slowly. “If she sent this, she didn’t think Noelani was coming back.”

  Sadie held her eyes before nodding slightly.

  “Oh my gosh,” Gayle said, her face paling. “Bets killed her. That’s how she knew Noelani wasn’t coming back.”

  “Maybe,” Sadie said, trying to rein in the thoughts she could see spiraling in Gayle’s eyes. “Assuming she did write the note and assuming Charlie did receive it between the time his mother disappeared and when I found her body. There are a lot of details we need to figure out before we can make that kind of accusation.”

  “I want to just drive over there and put this in her face, force a confession,” Gayle said.

  “I understand,” Sadie said with a smile. She could relate. “But she’s not going anywhere, and the police are involved so we don’t need to act rashly. We do, however, need to find Charlie and connect this note to Bets’s painting, if we can. Every bit of connection we find makes our case that much stronger. We don’t want to get too antsy and miss an opportunity to line up the facts.”

  Gayle nodded slowly. “But what if Bets is the one who broke into your motel room? If she wrote that”—she pointed at the note—“then there’s a very good reason for her to want to scare you off.”

  “You’re catching on quick,” Sadie said, feeling the bubbly rise of excitement that was unfamiliar and comfortable at the same time. “And I guess I need to go get a phone.”

  “Finally,” Gayle said, bringing her hands together as if in prayer. “I told you so!”

  “I know, I know,” Sadie said. “But it better not take very long. While we don’t need to rush into this, we do have a lot to figure out.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gayle said, snapping her heels together and saluting. “I’ll follow your lead from here on out.” She cut her fingers away sharply, making Sadie laugh.

  “Let me put some stuff together, and we can go. I’ve got some other muumuus if you want to change. Mainland clothes can be really uncomfortable here on the island.” She looked pointedly at Gayle’s long pants and polyester shirt that would most certainly get sticky and overly hot.

  Gayle eyed the pink-and-blue muumuu Sadie had been wearing all day and shook her head. “No offense, but I can’t imagine wearing a nightgown in public.”

  Sadie shrugged. “I felt the same way at first, but remember you’re in a different world here. While we’re out, pay attention to how many women are wearing them.”

  Chapter 37

  Forty-five minutes later, Sadie had her old SIM card in a new phone. It wasn’t the same model as Sadie’s old phone—they didn’t have them in stock—and she frowned as she pushed buttons on the touch screen, trying to figure out how to use the menu. “I hate learning new electronics,” she said. “I think I just set a weird ring tone.” She tried to get back to where she’d been, but ended up turning on the camera instead and exiting back to the main menu. So overwhelming to be an old dog learning new tricks.

  “At least people can get in touch with you now,” Gayle said. “And the guy set up your e-mail for you. That’s a bonus since your laptop is out of commission.”

  “Yeah,” Sadie said as she finally figured out how to call her voice mail.

  She was curious to hear if Mr. Olie was more polite in his voice mail than in person.

  He wasn’t. He told her she shouldn’t have gone to the police and to call him back immediately. She deleted the message and was about to exit her voice mail when the robotic voice that wasn’t supposed to sound robotic said “Next message.”

  There was a pause. “Uh, hi, this is Charlie. You said you would help, and so I saw you at the motel after the church. K. Bye.”

  Sadie immediately pushed the button to hear the message again.

  “Listen to this,” she said when it finished, but she couldn’t figure out how to put the phone on speaker. With a growl, she told Gayle what Charlie had said.

  “How’d he get your number?” Gayle asked as they approached Puhi, passing the flower stand where Nat had said he’d lost Charlie on Tuesday. />
  “I left it with CeeCee,” Sadie said. “But I also gave it to Nat. I told Nat I wanted to help Charlie—I never told Charlie that.”

  “He was listening?”

  “He’s sneaky,” Sadie said, then hurried to add, “and adorable.” She found the log of recent calls and dialed the number Charlie had called from, but it rang and rang. On an impulse, she texted the number to Shawn and asked if he’d do a reverse lookup on it for her; he had an app on his phone that made it a thirty-second job. “Charlie’s had a hard life. I hope he can stay with CeeCee. I can’t imagine him having to start all over again with someone new.”

  “Poor kid.” Gayle pulled onto the Kaumualii highway, heading back toward Puhi and, further south, Kalaheo. “Was Noelani really a stripper like Kiki said?”

  “Yeah,” Sadie said, thinking of the pictures she’d found on Facebook. “Sounds like she had a pretty tough life, too.” She continued scrolling through the calls she’d missed and realized that she had nearly half a dozen—only Pete’s number was one she recognized. Had she listened to all the messages on her voice mail?

  “Everything I’ve heard about her shows that she was really working hard to clean up her act since leaving O’ahu,” Sadie said. “I wonder if Charlie’s still in Kalaheo. The message was left at 1:33, so it was after we talked to the police. Maybe he’s hiding. I think he wants to talk to me. Why else would he have called?”

  “When we called the police, you said you were done.”

  Sadie tried to read Gayle’s tone, but couldn’t be sure what she meant. “You think I should stay out of it?”

  “Oh, not necessarily,” Gayle said. “All these people are coming to you, and, like Kiki said, you care about Noelani—you’re invested. I’m just reminding you of what you said, that’s all. I’m happy to take any direction you feel good about.”

  “It doesn’t seem to be done with me yet,” Sadie admitted.

  “So, are we going to Kalaheo?” Gayle asked, glancing at Sadie.

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Gayle smiled, giving Sadie some comfort that she wasn’t pushing her to do something she was against doing.

  She put the phone to her ear where the robotic voice said she had one more unheard message.

  “Mrs. Hoffmiller, this is Nat, Charlie’s foster brother. My mom’s talking to the police, but I thought I would call you too. The cops said you saw him. Please give me a call.”

  As soon as Sadie hung up, she called Nat, hoping that between the time he’d left the message, which had been around three o’clock, and now that Charlie had been found.

  “Nat,” Sadie said when he answered the phone. “It’s Sadie Hoffmiller. You left me a message about Charlie.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You saw him?”

  “This morning at the church. But he also called me this afternoon. I just got his message. Have you guys found him?”

  “No,” Nat said.

  Sadie deflated against the car seat. “Oh. I was hoping you had.”

  “And I was hoping you had,” Nat said. “When did you see him at the church?”

  “Around ten,” Sadie said.

  “What was he doing there? Did you talk to him?”

  “Not really. He was putting a prayer into a prayer box. Did the police tell you about that?”

  “No,” Nat said. “They asked more questions than they answered.”

  Sadie told him about the note she’d found in the prayer box. “He’s still looking for her.”

  “Ah, man,” Nat said. “Well, thanks for the info. I’ll tell CeeCee.”

  “One more thing, Nat.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Charlie received a note last week, a purple envelope, from his mom. Do you know when he received it?”

  Nat was quiet. “I just learned about it today. I don’t know when it showed up.”

  “The envelope didn’t have a postmark,” Sadie said. “So it didn’t come through the mail, right?”

  “I guess,” Nat said. “CeeCee doesn’t know when it came either. I wonder if it was a long time ago—like months.”

  “But why would she send it months ago? This is the first time she’s left.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” A silence came between them. “So, you’ve talked with Mr. Olie, then?” Nat asked.

  “A little,” Sadie said, squirming.

  “Did you tell him about Charlie getting away from me and coming to you?”

  Sadie hated feeling like she was disloyal to everyone. “I’m sorry, Nat. I had to.”

  “Nah, I understand,” Nat said. “I just hope it doesn’t end with Charlie going to another home. We’re the only family he has left, you know. We love him.”

  “I know you do,” Sadie said. “And Mr. Olie knows that too. He’s fighting to keep you guys together . . . but the fact that CeeCee didn’t notify him when you moved in is a problem.” She hoped she wasn’t being petty to bring up his culpability in the situation.

  “I know,” Nat said, not defensive, just . . . sad. “And my stupidity doesn’t help. I guess Mr. Olie told you about that, too.”

  “Yeah,” Sadie said. “But he’s sympathetic. He knows you love Charlie.”

  “Could you let me know if you hear somethin’?”

  “Of course,” Sadie said, knowing full well she was overpromising everyone.

  “Thanks,” Nat said. “CeeCee’s about out of her head with worry.”

  Sadie ended the call and explained the gist of it to Gayle.

  Gayle smiled sadly. “It seems like Charlie has some people who love him.”

  Sadie nodded. “Yeah, CeeCee and Nat seem to really want him, ya know? I just hope he can stay with them.”

  Sadie’s phone rang—a stupid tinkling of wind chimes. She’d have to figure out how to change that. A wave of trepidation rushed over her when she saw it was Shawn. There was so much she hadn’t told him, and so much she still didn’t want to talk about. But she’d sent him that number to look up; he was involved now.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said, answering the phone. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” he said. “But what are you doing? You workin’ a case?”

  “Um, sorta.”

  “You’ve never sorta worked a case before, Mom. What’s going on?”

  Sadie bit her lip. Shawn had had a hard time since Boston—they’d both been skirting the topic for months—and despite all she’d done on this case, she didn’t want to burden him with it. Would it be too much for him to handle? How fragile was he? Having faced her own fragility, the thought of tipping him over was overwhelming. But if she really thought he was incapable, why had she texted him the number Charlie had called her from?

  “Is it about Boston?” Shawn asked. That had become almost a code word for them. The city where so many bad things had happened now encompassed all the events and feelings and fears—as though it had been some kind of military secret.

  “It’s not about Boston,” Sadie said, relieved that it was the truth and realizing that amid all this new stuff, Boston had finally faded into the background. “It’s something new.”

  “Well,” Shawn said expectantly and perhaps with relief, “tell me about it.”

  “Okay, but don’t get mad.”

  “Why would I get mad?”

  “Because she should have told you three weeks ago!” Gayle yelled, causing Sadie to jolt. She looked at her friend, who stared at the road. “Well, you should have,” she said in a normal tone. “And you know it.”

  “What—is that . . . Gayle? You’re still in Hawai’i, right?”

  Sadie took a breath. “Yes. I’ll tell you everything, but understand that I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “That excuse again?” Shawn said, both annoyed and sarcastic. “I thought we were past that.”

  Sadie sighed and did her best to catch him up on what was happening. To his credit, he took it well and kept his judgments to himself. “So the kid called you from the number you
gave me?” Shawn asked.

  “Yes,” Sadie said, relieved he wasn’t angry with her. “If you have a minute to look it up, it might help me find him.”

  “I already looked it up,” Shawn said.

  “Oh.” Sadie scrambled for her notebook. “Where’s it from?”