Banana Split

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “A place called Bartley Expeditions, in a city called Kale-ahh-eeo on Kaua’i. Do you want the address?”

  “No,” Sadie said. “I know the address.” What was Charlie doing there? He must have called while Jim was out with his expedition.

  “So what’s next? What else can I do to help?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that was all she needed, but it wasn’t true. She didn’t have her laptop anymore so she had no way of accessing information. “Can you do a quick background on the owner of that business—Bartley Expeditions? His name is James, James Bartley, and he lives here in Kalaheo above his business. He owns a motel next to it by the name of Sand and Sea. He’s been married before and had some stepsons, but I don’t think he has kids of his own.”

  “Okay,” Shawn said. “Anything specific I’m looking for?”

  “I just want a basic history,” Sadie said. “And I’m curious as to when his marriage broke up and why, if you can find it. Are you sure you have time?”

  “Do you think we could move to a place where you trust me to manage my time without having to remind me of my responsibilities?”

  Sadie blinked. Shawn was never cross with her. Ever. “Um, I didn’t mean to imply I didn’t trust you.”

  “Really?” he said with as much of an edge in his voice as she’d ever heard. “Then why didn’t you tell me all this sooner? You must not have thought I could handle it.”

  Sadie felt tears coming. “I haven’t been handling it very well,” she said. “And I knew you were having a hard time too. I just . . . wanted to protect you, I guess.”

  “I’m twenty-two years old,” Shawn said as though that made him a man of the world. It was still so young in Sadie’s mind. “I’ve faced off with a few murderers, and I do my own laundry. I think I deserve a little more credit.”

  Sadie didn’t know what to say.

  “And I love you,” he added, bringing the tears finally to Sadie’s eyes. “And want to help you if I can, okay?”

  “Okay,” Sadie said, sniffing.

  “I’m on this Bartley guy, and I’ll call you as soon as I get any info.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all good,” Shawn said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Sadie put the phone in her lap and stared out the windshield. “Are you mad at me too?” she asked Gayle, who’d been silent since her outburst.

  “No,” Gayle said. “We love you, and we want to trust you, but you didn’t tell us what was going on—and I’m not just talking about Noelani.”

  Sadie didn’t know what to say. She assumed Gayle was saying this to make her feel better somehow, but she only felt worse. Was she a bad mother, a bad friend, and a bad girlfriend for not telling the people she loved about her anxiety? Were they all angry with her beneath their concern? If so, it proved the belief she’d been battling that the expectations other people had of her was how she determined her own value. They wanted her whole and saw a broken version of Sadie as unacceptable. If that were true, then pretending she was okay was her only option.

  “Hey,” Gayle said softly, poking Sadie’s leg to get her attention. “Life has a funny way of teaching us things sometimes. You’re always the first responder when someone needs something, you love to help, you love to be involved, you love to encourage and support people to be their best selves. You need to learn to accept the same thing when it’s you who needs the help. That’s all I’m saying. When you don’t tell us you need something, we feel like you think we’re incapable, but we’re not. We all know we must be pretty dang amazing to have you love us like you do. All we want is to return the favor.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Sadie said, finding it difficult to accept what Gayle was saying.

  “How about thanks?”

  Sadie looked at her, unsure of how she meant the comment, but Gayle’s expression was soft and sympathetic. “Thanks,” she said, though it seemed lacking.

  “You’re welcome,” Gayle said. “And, see, now everything is good again!”

  Sadie smiled weakly and looked around, recognizing that they were getting close to Kalaheo. She’d planned to call her credit card companies during the drive to request replacement cards, and she opened up her file of information she’d brought from the condo. She was hopeful she could get a few of the cards canceled and new ones on their way by the time they reached the church. Or maybe they should go to Bartley Expeditions instead?

  Five minutes later, a customer service rep assured Sadie that her new card was on its way. “Could you verify your most recent charge to make sure the card wasn’t used before it was destroyed?” the rep asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t used,” Sadie said, thinking of how short the time period was between her being locked out of her room and the discovery of the vandalism. “And I’ll have a police report for you to put on file in another day or two.”

  “It’s standard practice to review the current charges,” the woman said. “Can you recall the last purchase you made on your card?”

  “Um, I guess it would be . . . oh, yeah, I paid my car insurance,” Sadie said, though it seemed silly since her car was in Garrison. “Last month.”

  “I see that one,” the woman said. “What about the charge for Hawaiian Air?”

  “Hawaiian Air?” Sadie said, looking at Gayle, who lifted her eyebrows. “When was that made?”

  “The charge went through at 8:21 this morning, but . . . yes, there’s the confirmation. It was made yesterday afternoon.”

  Chapter 38

  Sadie opened her mouth to dispute it, but then caught herself. The charge had been made before Sadie’s wallet had been shredded. There was only one other person besides herself who’d had access to her wallet before then.

  Charlie.

  “Is there a way I could look at the specifics of that charge? I, uh, thought I’d used a different card for that reservation.”

  “I can e-mail you the information,” the woman said. “But I’ll need you to let me know within twenty-four hours if you’re disputing it or not.”

  “Certainly,” Sadie said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I verify the info.” She gave the woman her e-mail address and then ended the call before toggling to the app for her e-mail. She’d never had e-mail on her phone, but now she was glad that Gayle had talked her into it and that the cute boy at the cell phone store had set it up.

  The e-mail from the credit card company arrived a few seconds later. The text was tiny, but she was able to zoom in and then turn the phone sideways to read it.

  Gayle slowed down. “Where to? The church?”

  “That’s probably best,” Sadie said. “For now.” She looked at the information the credit card company had sent, but all it said was that a purchase had been made for the amount of $82. She grunted in frustration.

  “How much was your ticket from O’ahu to Kaua’i?”

  “Um, about $90. I just did one way.”

  “So did Charlie,” Sadie said. “Assuming it was him. But who else would it be?” Her anger dissipated when she realized why Charlie was going to O’ahu—to find his mother.

  “Kids these days,” Gayle said. “I got a new TV last month, and the only person who can get it to play a DVD is Karra; she’s two.”

  “I’m calling the airline,” Sadie said, closing the e-mail program and trying to get back to the dial pad. “What if he’s already left?”

  “I’m sure they wouldn’t let him board,” Gayle said. “But they won’t tell you anything about a passenger anyway.”

  “They have to tell me. It was my credit card.”

  “Let me make a call,” Gayle said. She pulled into the church parking lot and parked next to Pastor Darryl’s Jeep. “That client of mine who helped me change my flight might know a trick or two. If that doesn’t work, then we can call the airline.”

  Sadie nodded, but she didn’t like doing nothing. She looked out the windshield at the orange roof o
f Bartley Expeditions. “I’m going to Jim’s,” she said, making an instant decision as she reached for the door handle. “Maybe Charlie’s still there.” Even as she said it, though, she knew that was unlikely. It was four in the afternoon. He’d called her hours ago.

  “Wait,” Gayle said, the phone at her ear. “Wait for me to make this call.”

  “I can’t,” Sadie said. “I can’t waste any more time. Make the call and then go to the church. The mural I was telling you about is in the kitchen. See if you think the flower matches the one drawn on the card. And call me with anything you figure out, okay?” She pulled the card out of her purse and handed it to Gayle.

  Gayle looked as though she wanted to do anything but agree to the plan, but she nodded. “Be safe.”

  Sadie smiled. “I will.” She shut the car door and hurried through the church grounds, certain she could find the back way from this direction. She was right; the path was much more clear. After crossing through a second hedge into the motel’s parking lot, the path split. One headed for a covered corridor entrance to the motel; the other led to the expedition office.

  Within two minutes of leaving Gayle behind her, Sadie was at Bartley Expeditions. The garage door was down, but the office door was unlocked. She let herself in and took a moment to absorb the silence, the emptiness.

  “Hello?” she called, just to make sure. No one answered. Convinced she was alone, Sadie headed around the empty reception desk, scanning the area for evidence that an eleven-year-old boy had been there. He hadn’t left anything behind.

  Sadie picked up the phone on the counter and used it to call her cell phone. When it rang, the display showed the same number Charlie had used earlier. Sadie hung up and searched the desk for more evidence, but discovered nothing. She turned back to the phone and found the call log. It showed that her number had been called at 1:33, but within a minute of that call, another call had been placed with the 808 area code. She picked up the phone again and called that number.

  “Aloha, Kaua’i bus office,” a woman said when she answered. “Can I help you?”

  “Um, yes,” Sadie said, thinking fast. Why would Charlie have called the bus station? She’d no sooner asked herself the question, however, than she knew the answer. She scrambled for some scratch paper and a pen while glancing at the door, hoping no one would come in during the next two minutes. “Can you tell me what buses I would need to take to get from Kalaheo to the airport?”

  A few minutes later, Sadie thanked the women for her time and tapped her pen on the paper full of times and bus numbers. She wondered what kind of progress Gayle was making on Charlie’s flight. Despite Gayle’s assurances that he couldn’t fly by himself, Sadie wouldn’t have guessed he could hide from everyone who was looking for him or book the flight by himself, but he had done both those things. Charlie was as streetwise as any kid she’d ever met, and she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he managed to get on the plane.

  Sadie considered calling the police, they might be able to get to the airport quicker than she could, but she’d told Mr. Olie she’d call him first. She dialed his number, which went to voice mail after four rings. She left a quick message with the basics, promising to call him when she knew more. She hung up, feeling better knowing he couldn’t yell at her for not calling this time.

  Should I call the police now, she wondered? She didn’t want to. She turned to the door leading into the garage. Jim’s apartment was here. The motel’s security cameras fed into his apartment, and, assuming she could get in, she might be able to figure out who had trashed her room. Maybe she could catch sight of Charlie too.

  “Hello?” she called again as she pushed open the door leading to the garage. “Jim?”

  Still no one answered. The boat Jim had been loading this morning looked like it hadn’t been moved at all, still parked right where it had been. What if Jim had made up the expedition to make her think he had left? If not for the fact that Kiki had told her about it long before Sadie had posed any kind of threat to Jim, Sadie would have pursued the possibility, but she trusted Kiki. And the police would be verifying the expedition anyway.

  She walked around the boat, looking for anything of interest. Maybe the interesting aspect was the boat itself. Noelani had been found in the ocean. Someone hadn’t expected her to be found—probably Bets—which meant that the chances were good a boat had been involved. This boat, perhaps.

  Sadie thought back to the conversation she’d overheard between Bets and Jim. Jim had said, “I’d be careful who you said that to.” What had he meant by that? Bets was pretty open with him about Noelani being gone and wanting to be done with her. Were they in this together?

  Sadie rounded the stern of the boat, and her eyes lit on the stairs built into the wall across from her, near the door she’d entered. She looked up the length of them to the door at the top. More important, she analyzed the simple residential lock embedded in the doorknob as she climbed the stairs.

  At the landing, she knocked on the door, just to make sure no one answered, and counted to twenty before pulling her lock pick set from her bag—she’d never leave home without it again—and quickly selected the best picks for the job. This lock had to be easier than using an ice pick and a whisk.

  Chapter 39

  It was easier to break in with the proper tools. Much easier. She was inside within thirty seconds, in part because she had the picks, but she was pretty sure she was also fueled by the numbing fear of getting caught.

  Though some people might not have believed it, Sadie had never liked doing the wrong thing. And yet this didn’t feel all that wrong. In fact, it even felt a little bit right. If Jim hadn’t locked her out of her room, no one would have been able to destroy her things. The only way she might find out who had been behind that, and how that person was connected to Noelani, was here in Jim’s apartment.

  As soon as she got inside, she locked the door behind her and texted Gayle, telling her she was in the apartment but not to worry.

  Gayle didn’t respond immediately, which Sadie chose to believe meant that she at least understood and at best agreed. She slid the phone into her bag and took a few moments to scan the apartment, which was a big studio space with a small kitchen table in the very center of the room. One corner was taken up by an L-shaped desk and dominated by a large LCD TV, a computer keyboard, and monitor.

  All in all, the apartment wasn’t that bad, for a bachelor pad. There was minimal clutter and no underwear on the floor—something Sadie appreciated. The bed was made, though Jim could have taken a minute to straighten the coverlet so the edges hung parallel to the floor.

  The one thing that looked out of place was a loose knit pink sweater draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Sadie walked to it and fingered the yarn, picturing Bets last night, pulling the sides of this very same sweater around herself as she watched Sadie and Pastor Darryl head for the Jeep. It was bad enough knowing that Jim and Bets had met together in his office; knowing that Bets had been here was far worse. Sadie still wasn’t certain that what she was seeing was what it seemed to be, but she didn’t have the time to figure it out.

  The LCD TV demanded Sadie’s attention, reminding her why she was there in the first place. That had to be where the video feed was connected. She hurried over to the TV and ran her fingers along the edges until she found a power button. Immediately the screen glowed to life, and Sadie smiled at the eight squares of images that provided her an instant view of Jim Bartley’s kingdom. The cameras covered all the common areas of the motel as well as the interior of the reception office. The eighth camera showed the path leading between the motel and the church.

  Sadie scanned each frame to make sure Jim wasn’t in any of them. She actually thought she’d feel better if she could see him somewhere. He wasn’t in any of the frames, however. Where could he be?

  A woman Sadie didn’t recognize was working the front desk—Court, she assumed—checking in a young couple, perhaps honeymooners. A
few teenagers were playing in the pool, but the rest of the cameras were clear. Assured she was safe, Sadie was faced with the task of figuring out how to rewind the video so she could see who’d been in her room that morning. She looked at the computer and took a breath. Technology had never been her forte. Wait, she had her phone!

  She quickly dialed Shawn. “Mom, I’m still verifying some timelines, but I did talk to—”

  “I need your help with something else,” she said, cutting him off and quickly explaining the situation. “So, any ideas?”

  “A few,” Shawn said. “On the video display is there a name anywhere that might lead us to the program he uses for the feeds?”

  Sadie checked. In the bottom of the eighth frame was the word Visatrol.

  “Sounds like a cholesterol medication, but whatever,” Shawn said while Sadie woke up the computer. She braced herself for a password, but no prompt appeared for one. Maybe he thought the lock on his apartment was enough security. A tab at the bottom of the screen also said Visatrol.