“Of course not,” Pastor Darryl answered sharply. “I have never had an inappropriate relationship with another woman. I love my wife.” He looked at Bets, who was staring at the floor again. “I have only ever been in love with you, Bets. Only you.”
“Just a tip, then,” Gayle said from where she stood behind Pastor Darryl. “Keep your hands to yourself so people don’t wonder if that’s true.”
He looked over his shoulder, shocked by Gayle’s words.
Sadie shook her head, warning Gayle that now wasn’t the time, but Gayle continued speaking. “The whole time we were at the church you were touching me—my back, my arm, my shoulder.” She shivered. “I didn’t even know you. It was creepy, and Sadie said you did the same thing to her when you first met.”
Sadie winced but tried to keep her expression calm as he looked at her in confusion. “The spiritually hungry are often starved for appropriate touch,” he said.
“Your interpretation of appropriate can send a confusing message,” Sadie said, looking at Bets. “And it makes people wonder.”
“I don’t care what people think,” he said automatically. But then he took a step toward his wife, realizing that she thought the same thing other people did. “I have never been unfaithful to you, Bets, not with my body or my heart.”
Sadie tried to reroute the conversation, turning her full attention to Pastor Darryl. “I think Jim used Bets in an attempt to exact revenge for what happened with his wife,” she said. “Bets went to him for help in getting Noelani out of your apartment, and that created an opportunity for him. He’s been feeding her lies about your relationship with Noelani ever since, and he’s managed to undermine Bets’s confidence in your vows to her.”
Bets tucked her hair behind her ear, folding her arms and holding herself even tighter, like a little girl getting scolded. Sadie sensed that she still wasn’t convinced of her husband’s faithfulness.
“And he’s planning to tell you that he and Bets have been having an affair,” Sadie finished.
Bets stiffened and raised her head, her beautiful eyes wide. “What?” she said, horrified. She turned to her husband. “Darryl, I never—”
“Mandi’s in on it too,” Sadie said, making sure the people deserving of blame shared it equally. “She broke into my motel room with Jim’s help, and then planted this list in your room.” She pulled Charlie’s list from her bag. “There’s also a prayer in the prayer box at the church from someone with the initials ACR. I’m thinking—”
“You read the prayers!” Pastor Darryl cut in, horrified. “Those are private.”
“For you to read, right?” Sadie countered. “I’m thinking the A stands for Amanda. I can only assume Mandi expected that you’d eventually read her prayer and perhaps pick up on the hints she’s been dropping. I also think she gave Bets’s sweater to Jim to use as proof that Bets had been in his apartment. Pastor, I don’t—” She stopped herself, reminded of why she was there. She turned to Bets. “All of this can be worked out later. Right now, you need to take us to Ho’oka Beach. You need to show us where Noelani died.”
Slow-Cooked Kalua Pig
3 to 8 pound pork shoulder, butt, or picnic roast
3/4 teaspoon Hawaiian sea salt per pound of pork
1 teaspoon liquid smoke per pound of pork
1 banana
With a steak knife, pierce pork several times—don’t be shy. Rub pork with sea salt and then with liquid smoke. Put in slow cooker. Slice an unpeeled banana down the center and lay the halves on top of the pork, peel side down. Cook pork on lowest setting for 8 to 16 hours, depending on the size of the roast and how low you can set the temperature of your slow cooker.
Halfway through the cooking time, remove and discard the banana, and turn roast. Remove pork from slow cooker 1 hour before serving and let cool for 10 minutes.
Remove pork drippings from slow cooker to a container and place in freezer to allow fat to congeal. Once the pork is cool enough to handle, remove the fat (and bones, if necessary), and shred the meat with a fork. Return shredded meat to slow cooker. Once the drippings have congealed, skim fat from the top with a spoon and discard. Add drippings to the shredded pork.
Serve pork and drippings over short-grain white rice. (Pork can also be served with shredded cabbage that has been lightly sautéed with soy sauce.)
Notes: Hawaiian sea salt is a specific type of seasoning usually found in specialty stores or whole food markets. It’s similar in texture to kosher salt, but has a specific flavor. This is a traditionally salty dish, so if your family doesn’t eat a lot of salt, cut it down accordingly.
For a quick version of this recipe, use pork ribs, omit the banana, and cook in a slow cooker on low for 6 hours.
Chapter 42
After a few minutes of discussion, Gayle and Sadie decided they would follow Darryl and Bets to Ho’oka Beach. The arrangement wasn’t Sadie’s first choice, but Darryl had said, “Please, I promise you we’ll do whatever you need us to do, but let us have some time.”
And when Gayle pointed out that she and Sadie may need to leave quickly if the airport called about Charlie, Sadie acquiesced.
Sadie and Gayle spent the drive talking about what they had learned in their separate adventures. Sadie was impressed with how well Gayle had handled Pastor Darryl.
When they finished catching up, Sadie looked at the time on her phone: 5:30. “I hope this doesn’t take too long,” she said, looking out the window. The green foliage, broken up by an occasional road or house, seemed endless and encompassing. When would Charlie get to the airport? Was he there now? Did he make it past security without them calling her? Was he just waiting for the plane to announce boarding?
“We’ll be fine,” Gayle said. “Have a little faith.”
Faith. Such a big word sometimes, especially when her doubts were circling her like sharks in the water. Things had felt so overwhelming at the start of all this—a few simple words typed into the Google search bar—but they were ramping up, and she worried that at some point the dam that was holding back all her anxiety would break open. Then what?
“So, this is the kind of stuff you’ve done all those other times you were nearly killed?” Gayle asked a few minutes later, saving Sadie from her thoughts.
“Pretty much.”
“So, you kind of stir things up like this? Follow all the leads and see what happens?”
Sadie smiled. “Stirring it up is a good way to put it,” she said. “The bits and pieces of the truth tend to rise to the surface, then it’s a matter of skimming it from the top and putting it together to create a whole truth.”
“It’s pretty intense,” Gayle said. “I mean, what if you’re wrong? What if Bets lied to you and she killed Noelani? What if we’re being led to our deaths?”
“Are you trying to freak me out?” Sadie asked, facing her. “I suppose Bets could be lying to me, but I can usually tell. The fact is that most people are so shocked by the horrible things they do that they don’t know how to hide it once they know I know something.” That wasn’t always true. There were exceptions to everything.
The Jeep in front of them started to slow down. The right turn signal blinked, and Gayle followed, muttering “Here goes nothing” under her breath.
Gayle made the turn onto a nearly invisible road cut into the vegetation. The ride became a bumpy one.
“Sheesh,” Gayle said a minute later when yet another pothole bounced them both in their seats. “People come all the way out here when there are accessible beaches all over the island?”
“Not everyone wants to combat the tourist crowd,” Sadie said. “And obviously whoever was in Serenity didn’t want anyone to see what they were doing.”
Bets had said that upon the return trip, the man had unloaded bags of something. Something he found on another beach? In the water? Something that had to be taken to a remote, secret beach in the middle of the night? Something worth killing for?
A few minutes later, the narrow
road opened up to a parking area covered with gravel and a layer of red dirt.
Gayle slowed down to park while Sadie looked around to assess the last place Noelani had been. The tree line was about thirty yards from the water. A sandy beach stretched from one side of the boat dock, a rocky shoreline on the other. There was a minivan in the parking lot, but Sadie couldn’t see the owner. A sign posted near the dock warned of hazards in the water: rocks and riptides. Swim with extreme caution, it said.
Once parked, the four of them stepped out of their respective vehicles and walked toward one another in silence. Bets’s eyes were red and swollen, but Pastor Darryl was holding her hand as they all came to a stop.
“Where was Noelani parked?” Sadie asked, breaking the tenuous silence.
Bets pointed toward the left side of the parking area.
“Where was the truck?”
“Just right of the dock.” Bets pointed toward the large lava rocks that separated the parking area from the water.
Sadie and Gayle immediately began walking toward the dock ten feet apart, scanning the ground in front of them. There were oil stains and uneven coloring on the ground; would Sadie be able to find what she was looking for? Would blood still be there two weeks later? She had concrete with blood stains from years ago, when Shawn had hit his head on the BBQ while playing football with some friends, but dirt and gravel was different. Dirt was organic, changing, affected by the elements. Had Noelani bled in those last moments on the beach?
“Sadie,” Gayle said. “Come look at this.”
Sadie joined her friend. At Gayle’s feet was a three-inch, asymmetrical black circle, different from the oil stains. Different from anything Sadie had seen. She crouched down to inspect it before scanning the area around it. There was another spot, much smaller and lighter, a few feet closer to the dock. Then another, and another, and another. Sadie’s pace sped up as she hurried toward the dock, following the spots. Noelani’s blood. It was surreal.
When they reached the dock, Sadie’s feet suddenly froze beneath her. She could not move forward. The water lapped against the blackened wood just like it had at another dock Sadie would never forget. The water was murky where it mixed with the sand and dirt. A body had been beneath the last dock Sadie had been on.
Gayle gave her a strange look as she passed her and stepped onto the wooden dock as though it were an ordinary sidewalk. Pastor Darryl and Bets hung back, watching with fearful interest as Gayle took the lead.
“Here’s another drop,” Gayle said. “The color is different against the pale wood, but it’s got to be blood.”
Sadie willed herself forward, but she didn’t move.
Gayle walked about two-thirds of the way down the dock, then she looked around, as though hunting for the trail. After a few seconds, she glanced back to Sadie. “It’s gone. The trail ends here,” she said, pointing into the water next to the dock.
“That’s about where the boat was,” Bets said quietly. Pastor Darryl pulled her close and put his arm around her shoulder.
Sadie stared at the dock, imagining the scene Bets had described: Noelani tackled, thrown into a boat—a boat with the name Serenity on the back in silver letters. Noelani had taken a trip on that boat and had not come back. Why? Who had killed her?
Jim had a boat, but Pastor Darryl was his target, not Noelani. Or had Sadie missed something there? Could Noelani have learned about the game Jim and Mandi were playing? Could Noelani have threatened Jim’s opportunity to get his revenge on Pastor Darryl? It would have been an elaborate setup, luring her to Ho’oka Beach with a boat in waiting. What of the bags being unloaded from the boat? Jim’s boat wasn’t named Serenity; Sadie didn’t recall seeing a name on it at all. Wouldn’t Bets have recognized Jim or his boat?
Gayle looked at Sadie. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Sadie nodded. “Yeah,” she said, but she took a step away from the dock, away from the water.
The sound of tinkling wind chimes caught her attention, and it took her a second before she remembered it was the silly ring tone on her new phone. She pulled the phone from her bag and looked at the unfamiliar number. It couldn’t be the airport calling about Charlie because they had Gayle’s number as the contact.
“This is Sadie,” she answered, moving away from the group for some privacy—and to increase her distance from the water.
“This is Hannah from the Department of Human Services.”
“Yes,” Sadie said, her thoughts returning to Charlie. She hadn’t seen him for nearly eight hours. Had Mr. Olie caught up to him first? Was that the purpose of this call?
“I was calling to tell you that Mr. Olie is in the hospital,” Hannah said.
Sadie gasped and stopped walking. “Oh my gosh,” she said, raising a hand to her chest. “Why? What’s happened?”
“He was out of the office,” Hannah said, her voice low and heavy. “It appears he had a heart attack.”
Sadie closed her eyes, picturing Mr. Olie as she seen him that afternoon. He hadn’t been well, but she’d been afraid to push the issue. Perhaps she should have.
“Is he going to be okay?” Sadie asked.
“We’re not sure,” Hannah said. “He’s in the ICU at Wilcox Memorial.”
“Thank you for calling me,” Sadie said, humbled by the sudden turn. “I sincerely hope he’ll be all right.”
“He asked for you,” Hannah said.
Sadie startled. “For me?”
“About an hour ago. I found your number on Mr. Olie’s voice mail. Do you know where Wilcox Memorial is? In Lihue?”
Chapter 43
Sadie stood in the doorway of the ICU room, images of another day transposing themselves over this one until the floor felt as though it were moving beneath her feet. More than two decades ago, her husband, Neil, was the man lying on a hospital bed, hooked up to what seemed like a hundred tubes and wires while equipment beeped and whirred, trying to keep him alive. When she’d finally been shown into the room that night, she’d known Neil was already gone. Only the machines were sustaining him. Everything had changed for her that day. She wondered if Mr. Olie had anyone in his life who would miss him as much as she and her children had missed Neil.
That is not today, a voice in her head said. Walk.
She walked, moving over the threshold and focusing on the large form lying on the hospital bed. He’d asked for her, but she couldn’t stay very long. When she reached the bed, she took in the gray pallor of his skin and the purple rings beneath his closed eyes. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, and she could hear puffs of air that blew into the mask in accordance with the rise and fall of his chest.
Sadie reached out a hand and placed it on his arm. “Mr. Olie?”
His eyes fluttered open, but it took a few seconds for him to focus on her face and a few more before recognition came to his eyes.
“I heard you asked for me,” Sadie said with reverence.
He lifted his hand, obviously weak and waved for her to come forward. She thought he wanted her to lean closer, which she did, but he pushed against her hand and pointed toward the head of the bed, jabbing the air. Sadie wondered what he was indicating and then saw a letter board leaning against the wall. She’d used them before during her volunteer work with disabled adults. Mr. Olie wanted to tell her something and this was the only way he could communicate right now.
She nodded to him that she understood and reached for the board. He relaxed, lowering his hand, his chest laboring to bring the oxygen in and out.
She began pointing at the letters in alphabetical order; he made a brushing motion with his hand, as though telling her to hurry. She started skipping to every third letter, and he seemed content until she landed on U, then he made the brushing motion again, but in the opposite direction. She went back to T then S. At S he raised his hand, palm out in a stopping motion.
“The first letter is S,” Sadie said, then went backward on the alphabet board one letter at a time. N. M. L. He made t
he stop sign again. “Second letter is L.”
He nodded and brushed backward. K. J. I. Stop. “Third letter is I.” S-L-I? Slide, slick? Was he capable of spelling things correctly in his current state? Slinky?
He brushed forward. J. K. L. M. N. O. P. Stop.
“Slip?” Sadie said, glancing quickly at her legs to make sure hers wasn’t showing. Then she looked at him. He nodded as best he could, then hit her board.
“Is that the whole word? Slip?”
He hit the board again, this time on the number grid.
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