“Here, let me help with that,” she said, snatching two large white bags from my arms.
She opened one of the bags and sniffed the homey fragrance of plate lunch: shoyu-bathed meat and tangy mayonnaise. “You got chicken, right?”
I assured her I did and we went inside. The place was oddly calm for a small plantation-style house with five rambunctious kids. Quiet and empty.
“Where are the keiki?”
“I sent ‘em down to the beach.”
“But I have lunch for them.”
“Don’ worry, they not starve. I made sandwich.” She said it like “sammach” and it definitely sounded singular, rather than plural.
She took a seat on the dilapidated sofa and began rummaging through the food bags. After half a minute, she looked up.
“Why you stand? Sit down, girl. I gotta eat somethin’ befo’ we talk story.” She took out one of the food containers and then pushed the bag across the scarred coffee table toward me.
I was eager to get to the point of my visit, but from the looks of things, I’d get more co-operation if I let her eat first. She snapped open the carton and shoveled food down so quickly it was like watching a “now you see it, now you don’t” magic act.
I picked at my food as I rehearsed my appeal.
“Wha’sa matter? You don’ like?” she said.
“Yeah, it’s good. I’m just not that hungry right now.”
“Look to me like you neva’ hungry. You skin and bone.”
She finished the last of her mac salad and tossed the Styrofoam carton on the floor. In seconds flat a plump tabby-striped cat materialized out of nowhere and began licking the carton.
“Get outta there.” Kaili made a shooing motion, which the cat ignored.
Sensing an opportunity, I pulled another carton from the bag and held it just out of reach.
“You want a little more?”
“I guess. It will jus’ get cold before those keiki get home, anyway.”
“Okay. But first we need to talk. Did you know your sister was ill?”
“You mean sick? Yeah, I knew. She tol’ me she din’t want Douglas to know. And her keiki. She say she din’t want to bother them.”
“Did you ever go with her to the doctor?”
Kaili’s expression darkened. “How you hear that? I tol’ those nurses to keep quiet.”
“Did the nurses talk to you about what was going on with Lani?”
“They did. But I din’t understan’ most of it. There was somethin’ wrong with her head. She got the cancer in there, that’s all I know.”
“How about the doctor?”
“What about him? He seem like a nice man. Little haole guy, but mos’ doctors over here are.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“Only when I went in with Lani. He said I could come with her because sometimes she gets stuff mixed up, what with her brain sick like that.”
“I need to tell you something that’s going to be hard for you to hear.”
“Somethin’ bad about Leilani?”
“Yeah.”
“What could be mo’ bad than her being dead?”
She had a point. “Yeah, that’s about as bad as it gets. But what I’m about to tell you doesn’t make it any better. Especially since I know your family has strong religious beliefs.”
I showed her the copy of Lani’s suicide note. It took her a long time to read. Maybe she took her time because it comforted her to see her twin sister’s handwriting and she was realizing this would be the last communication she’d ever see from her sibling. Or maybe she was just a slow reader.
Finally, she looked up. “You think she killed herself?”
“I do.”
“With that gun DJ was talking about?”
“I think so.”
“So that means Douglas din’t do it?”
“I don’t think he did.”
“Then why he say he did?”
“He’s protecting her memory. He doesn’t want DJ and Maia to think badly of their mother. She was worried the kids would think she didn’t love them enough to hang on for as long possible.”
“And besides, killin’ yourself is a sin.”
I nodded.
She heaved her weight forward and grabbed the carton out of my hands. “That plate lunch gettin’ cold.”
I waited while she stuffed mouthful after mouthful into her mouth. When she came up for air, I leaned in and put a hand on her knee.
“I need you to do something for me. I’ve got an idea of how we can honor Lani’s request and still get Doug out of jail. You want his kids to go back home, don’t you?”
“Not if they’re going to be living with my sister’s killer.”
“You know that’s not what happened.”
She hung her head and said in a low voice. “I was worried she might do sumthin’ like this. She was out of her head crazy with pain. Even with all those drugs they gave her. But how we gonna tell the truth without the keiki finding out what she did?”
“I’ve got an idea. If you’ll help me, I’m hoping together we can do right by everyone in your ‘ohana. Are you willing to go with me to Kahului?”
***
I allowed Kaili to finish the rest of the second container of plate lunch. Then, while she cleaned herself up in the bathroom I put away the leftovers. I offered to leave her the rest of my largely untouched meal but she insisted we take it with us.
“I might need a snack while we’re on the road,” she said.
Kaili went next door to ask the neighbor to keep an eye out for the kids before heading over to join me in the Mini. It was a snug fit for Kaili, but she seemed to enjoy the ride.
“This car’s like wearin’ tight shoes,” she said. “You look good, but they pinch a little. I like the open-up sky, though.” She waved a hand out of the sunroof like a girl in a limo during a bachelorette party.
We got to Kahului at about two. I parked in the clinic parking lot and Kaili took a deep breath before heaving her way out of the passenger seat.
“I know this doctor did his best by my sista. But it wasn’t good enough.”
“You don’t blame him, do you?”
“No. But I don’t like being here. I was hopin’ to never see this place again.”
My fourth call that morning had been to make a two o’clock consultation appointment with Lani’s oncologist. The appointment nurse had tried to put me off for a couple of weeks but I promised to take only five minutes of the doctor’s time. I fibbed and said Leilani Kanekoa’s sister had a couple of questions and was extremely distressed. A few words from the doctor would go a long way in allowing her to accept her sister’s death.
The nurse grudgingly admitted they’d had a cancellation and told me to be there at two-thirty.
“Don’t be late. We don’t do island time here. Some of our patients are measuring their lives in days, not years, so every hour matters.”
Kaili and I got checked in and seated by two-fifteen. About a minute later, a nurse opened the door that led to the back and said, “Kaili?”
We both stood. The nurse looked at her clipboard. “I’m afraid I’m only showing Kaili’s name here. Are you ‘ohana or merely a friend?”
I looked at Kaili. On the ride over I’d explained what I wanted from the doctor so I hoped she’d be able to handle it alone, but she looked puzzled.
“No, she comes with me. I’m too sad.” With that, she burst into a torrent of tears.
The nurse glanced around the waiting room. A half-dozen patients and caregivers were shooting her major stink eye.
“Fine. Come this way.”
We were led to an office with a large window that looked out on an open-air atrium. It featured an artfully-arranged rock garden and a multitude of tropical flowers.
“Tha’s pretty,” Kaili said after the nurse had closed the door. Her tears had stopped as quickly as they’d started. I was about to remark about her remarkable acting ability when the door
swished open and a tidy man in a white lab coat entered. He was short, about five-six, with sad brown eyes and a fringe of light brown hair around a rather shiny pate.
He held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Randolph. I’m sorry for your loss.”
I stood and shook his hand. “Pali Moon. I’m hoping you might be able to help Lani Kanekoa’s sister here.”
Kaili had assumed an expression akin to the mask of tragedy but stayed silent.
“In what way?” the doctor said.
“She’s having a hard time accepting her twin sister’s untimely death. I was wondering if you could explain exactly what Leilani Kanekoa was facing, if she had lived.”
The doctor squinted and leaned back, crossing his arms. “This is highly unusual. I heard Lani was murdered.”
“That was the original assumption, but new facts are coming to light.”
“May I ask what facts?”
“Doctor, I’ve been admonished by the police to keep my mouth shut. But Kaili here is extremely upset over her sister’s passing and I’m hoping a few words from you might assist her in understanding her sister’s situation, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding her death.”
He kept the squint going. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
“Would you please tell Kaili the prognosis you gave Lani when she came to this office on Thursday, July twenty-fifth?”
He glanced at the folder in his hands.
I went on. “I believe you’ll see that Lani had Kaili, her sister, on her list of HIPAA-approved contacts. She’d appreciate you being straight with her about her sister’s prognosis.”
And then, like a sudden Upcountry shower on a sunny day, once again Kaili burst into tears.
The doctor bit his lip. “Okay. Let me review my notes.”
Kaili kept up the waterworks.
The doctor took a seat behind his desk and silently pushed a box of tissues toward the seemingly distraught woman. “I’m afraid your sister had an incurable situation. She had glioblastoma multiforme, or GBM. Hers was a grade four astrocytoma, which we don’t have a cure for at this time.”
“And she knew this?” I said.
He nodded. “She did. When she came in on her last visit she was emphatic that she be told the truth. Normally I don’t give patients such a blunt prognosis, but she was very clear she wanted to know where things stood.”
“And what symptoms was she having?”
Once again he dropped his gaze to the folder. “Severe headaches. Loss of impulse control, loss of memory and even occasional loss of vision. She was having a hard time keeping food down and claimed she was sleeping up to fifteen hours a day.”
“What were her treatment options?”
“Realistically, none. In certain circumstances we can slow the tumor growth with chemo or radiation, but in Mrs. Kanekoa’s case neither would’ve been effective. Besides, she’d opted out of treatment. She said she and her husband had discussed it and decided to allow Nature to take its course.”
That stopped me short. Had Doug known? I willed my face to not betray my thoughts and went on. “How long did she have, doctor?”
“We don’t make predictions like that.”
“But, realistically. In your professional opinion, how long would you expect a patient in Lani Kanekoa’s condition to hang on?”
He shrugged. Obviously, this was not a subject he was comfortable discussing.
I persisted. “Months?
He shook his head.
“Weeks?”
“Perhaps two to three.” He steepled his fingers. “If she was lucky.”
CHAPTER 32
We left the oncologist’s office and I drove Kaili home to Haiku. It was coming up on three-thirty when we arrived at her house. She hesitated before opening the passenger door.
“You wanna come in?”
“No, mahalo. I need to finish up a few more things. I appreciate you going with me to the doctor’s office.”
“No worries. I knew Lani was sick, but I didn’t know how sick. The doctor said she was in a lotta pain, eh?”
“There’s no way to know for sure, but from the pills she was taking, it must’ve been brutal.”
“You believe she going to hell?”
I shook my head. “I think her hell was here on earth. Imagine the situation she was in. Her meds were costing a fortune and there was no hope she’d ever get better. She was becoming more and more mentally unstable, turning her into a stranger to her husband and kids.”
“You think she a quitter?”
“No. I think she was desperate.”
“What am I supposed to tell her keiki? She didn’t want them to know what she did, but if the police show everybody that suicide note, what’ll I say?”
“For now, I think it’s best to say nothing. I’m still working on it.”
“I love her so much, ya know?”
“We all did.”
She started to tear up and from the looks of it, this time it was for real.
I patted her fleshy upper arm and let out a sigh. As much as I fancy myself a pretty good candidate for motherhood, I’m not that great at comforting people in emotional distress. It’s probably because from an early age I had deal with grief on my own. My auntie was a capable, no-nonsense caregiver who single-handedly raised more than half a dozen kids, most of whom weren’t her own. No easy task in Maui’s over-heated economy with sky-high rents and five-dollar-a-gallon gas. She made sure there was food on the table and a hug before bedtime and for that I’ll be eternally grateful.
Kaili turned her tear-streaked face to me. “Sorry for crying. I been holding it back for the keiki. But now that I know how bad things were for my sista, it make me sad I couldn’t do nothing.”
“None of us could. I think that’s why Doug confessed. He thinks going to prison will make up for not being able to fix things for Lani when she was alive.”
That brought on an even greater onslaught of tears.
I reached into the back and grabbed the Styrofoam box of plate lunch she’d insisted I take with me. “Here. Maybe a little snack will make you feel better.”
“It been out here in the car all this time,” she said. “You think it’s still okay?”
“Smell it first.” That was all Auntie Momi. When anyone showed concern about eating food that’d gone bad she’d advise them to “smell it.” It’s a wonder none of us died from salmonella poisoning.
***
I beat Wong to my shop by only a few minutes. He came in the front, glancing over his shoulder as if he was worried he’d been followed.
I stood. “Everything okay?”
“I can’t believe the things I agree to do for you, Ms. Moon. If I got caught leaking info like this I could say aloha to my badge and gun.”
“I really appreciate this. But it’s the right thing to do. Neither of us wants to see an innocent man go down for a murder he didn’t commit.”
“Yeah, but his innocence hasn’t been determined. Take a look.”
He handed me a stapled document folded into fourths. I unfolded it. There were three pages total. The first page was marked, Summary Preliminary Report of Autopsy.
I quickly read through the findings, ignoring details such as brain weight, what she was wearing and a narrative describing her four small tattoos. I scanned down to the section titled, “Description of Injuries.”
In that section, the medical examiner presented a meticulous listing of the damage Lani’s body had undergone at the time of her death. It was grisly reading. The report referenced drawings and photos that Wong had kindly not included.
At the bottom of the page were two sections: Cause of Death and Manner of Death. The cause of death described the gunshot wound to the head in minute detail, clarifying the amount of cranial damage and resulting tissue injury. On the Manner of Death line the doctor had written a single word: Homicide.
“What about her brain tumor?” I said.
Wong shrugged
. “I figure the GSW must’ve literally blown it away. Can’t fault the ME for not finding something that’s no longer there.”
“But it’s important to this case.”
Once again, Wong shrugged.
I pressed on. “Has Detective Ho seen this?”
“According to the ME, Ho came by while they were stitching her up and they talked. He was the first to get the written report.”
“Can we challenge the findings?”
“We can, but doctors are like judges. They don’t like being told they were wrong.”
“But I talked to Lani’s oncologist. He gave her zero chance of survival.”
Wong narrowed his eyes. “Seriously? He said that?”
“Well, not in so many words. But his prognosis was bleak. She was on a boatload of painkillers and antipsychotics. Ever hear of fentanyl?”
“Yeah, it’s a killer street drug.”
“It is. But it’s also prescribed when morphine and less-effective opioids aren’t enough.”
Wong reached out for the autopsy report. “Mind if I look at that again?”
I waited while he carefully perused the pages. Finally he looked up. “If Leilani Kanekoa was taking all the drugs you say she was, why don’t any of them show up on the tox screen?”
“Good question. Detective, would you consider taking me along to check out the crime scene?”
He blew out a breath. “Look, this isn’t my case. If I got caught, especially with a civilian in tow, I’d better be ready to request a transfer.”
“Not if you have a good reason.”
“Such as?”
I mentally flipped through the events of the past two weeks. “How about saying you left something behind when you were out there earlier?”
“Why would I bring you along?”
“Better still. Say I thought I lost something and I asked you to help me find it.”
He scowled. “Not very convincing.”
“But convincing enough?”
“I guess.”
Wong checked his watch. “I need to go. I’ll meet you up there at six o’clock tonight. Don’t make me wait, Ms. Moon.”
Time was running out. I assured him I’d be prompt.
Isle Be Seeing You (Islands of Aloha Mystery Book 9) Page 21