Banana Split (38 page)

Sadie:
I don’t think so either. I’m heading her way. Bring PD over when you finish. Did you see the flower?

Gayle:
Dead ringer. She wrote the note—I’d put money on it.

Sadie returned her phone to her bag and headed around the church to the pastor’s apartment. She stopped at the door, took a deep breath, and knocked loudly while quickly prioritizing her objectives. She had to have her focus be on the most important thing—the note sent to Charlie.

The door opened, and Sadie smiled while lifting her chin. “Hi, Bets,” she said before Bets could come up with something to say instead.

“Um, aloha,” Bets said cautiously, clearly not thrilled to see Sadie. “Can I help you?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could come in.” Sadie was banking on the fact that Bets would be too polite to say no. “It’s so hot. Could I get a drink maybe?”

Bets hesitated, uneasy, but then nodded. “Sure.”

She stepped back so Sadie could enter the great room area of the apartment that was filled with a good collection of the local Koa wood furniture as well as some upholstered pieces. A countertop separated the living room from the kitchen. Everything was neat and clean. A huge painting of Mount Wai’ale’ale hung on one wall. Above an organized desk set against another wall was a collection of pictures—wedding portraits among them. Bets looked so young and carefree—gorgeous in a simple white dress.

“I love your place,” Sadie said, meaning it. It was cozy and neat and . . . loved. The condo in Puhi didn’t feel that way, and Sadie suddenly missed her own home. Beyond the decorations, the apartment smelled delicious. “What are you cooking?”

“Kalua pork,” Bets said as she passed Sadie on her way to the kitchen.

“I thought that was cooked in a big pit with banana leaves and things.”

“We only use the
imu
out back when we’re cooking a whole pig. This time I’m using a slow cooker.” She opened a cupboard and removed a glass, in a hurry to get rid of Sadie, or so it seemed.

“I’d love to get the recipe sometime,” Sadie said. “If it tastes half as good as it smells, my son will love it.”

Bets smiled politely, but Sadie could tell she had no intention of giving Sadie anything beyond a glass of water.

“Um, could I also use the restroom?” Sadie asked, stalling for more time, hoping to figure out her next move.

Before Bets could answer, Sadie pointed toward the hallway on the opposite end of the apartment. “Just down there, right?”

“Uh,” Bets said, but Sadie was already on her way.

The bathroom was the second door on the right, but she could also see into what she assumed was the master bedroom at the end of the hall. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Bets wasn’t following her before hurrying into the bedroom. If there were secrets here, she would find them in the bedroom. Bets wouldn’t risk leaving something out in the open with Mandi in residence.

She closed the door quietly behind her, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked around the pristine room—pristine except for one thing. Charlie’s list lay face up on the nightstand, just waiting to be discovered.

If Bets had really broken into Sadie’s room and stolen the list, she wouldn’t have left the only direct tie to the break-in out in plain sight. Clearly it had been planted here by someone else. Sadie wondered where Mandi was right now.

Sadie picked up the list, grateful to have it back. She folded it up and stuck it in her bag, mentally checking off its recovery from her to-do list.

Before returning to Bets, Sadie took a minute to look for anything else that might be helpful—a journal, or something belonging to Noelani—though Sadie didn’t know what that would be—anything that might prove her suspicions. But every drawer was perfectly organized and nothing stood out. Sadie knew she’d been gone too long. She took a deep breath; she just needed to do one more thing.

“I meant to bring some note cards with me,” Sadie said as she stepped into the living room.

Bets was slicing tomatoes in the kitchen, but Sadie’s glass of water was on the counter, waiting for her to drink it and leave. She ignored it and made a show of looking through her bag. “I must have left them at the condo. Do you by chance have something I could borrow? I wanted to write a thank-you card to my hairdresser; she did such a great job.”

Bets looked at Sadie’s hair before meeting her eyes and putting down the knife. “A note card?”

“You know, stationery, thank-you cards—something a step up from notebook paper. If it’s no trouble.”

Bets was too polite to say no. “Um, sure.” She rinsed her hands in the sink before coming around the counter. Sadie followed her, which Bets hadn’t expected. She looked over her shoulder, more nervous than ever but didn’t tell Sadie to back off.

When Bets reached the desk, she pulled open the second drawer from the top. It was perfectly organized with envelopes and a few boxes of cards. Bets reached for a box of thank-you cards, then hesitated and reached for a box of stationery instead.

“Those cards would be perfect,” Sadie said, ignoring the stationery Bets handed her and stepping close enough grab the box of note cards Bets had avoided. They weren’t purple, though, and Sadie dug through the drawer, moving around the perfectly organized contents.

“What are you doing?” Bets said, stepping back. Her voice was panicked, not angry. “I don’t like you going through my things.” She reached past Sadie and grabbed the box of note cards Sadie still held.

Sadie immediately grabbed the box back despite the fact that the clear cover showed that the cards were light yellow with bumblebees spelling out “Thank you.” Bets’s eyes went wide, and she tightened her fingers on the box. Her action only spurred Sadie’s own determination, and she grabbed the box with both hands, pulling it away from Bets.

As soon as she had full possession, she ran for the kitchen counter, ripping off the top of the box.

Bets was right behind her. “Give me that!” she said, sharp and scared.

Sadie didn’t bother wasting the energy to explain herself. She grabbed the first few note cards and pulled them out of the box, dropping them behind her.

Bets inhaled sharply. “What are you—”

And then Sadie saw a corner of lavender stashed below the yellow. She pulled out the last of the bumblebee cards just as Bets grabbed her hair and yanked. Sadie stumbled backward, her scalp on fire. The contents of the box flew upward and scattered through the air, some purple, some yellow.

Sadie reached behind her and grabbed Bets’s wrist, trying to unlock her grip. She didn’t let go, forcing Sadie to find the pressure point on the back of the hand, between the thumb and index finger. She pushed it with her own thumb until Bets screamed and let go.

Sadie moved her hand up to Bets’s wrist as she turned, twisting the arm as she marched her backward until Bets hit up against the desk, knocking one of the picture frames to the ground in the process.

Bets looked from her arm to Sadie’s face, shocked and afraid.

“What have you done?” Sadie asked. She hadn’t wanted things to get violent, but she needed answers.

“You’re crazy,” Bets said. “I want you out of my house.”

“I’m happy to leave as soon as you tell me what you’ve done.”

“I haven’t done anything, I—”

“You wrote that note to Charlie.”

Bets’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth but didn’t speak.

“I think you were trying to comfort him somehow,” Sadie said, offering the only olive branch she was prepared to give this troubled woman. “But you wouldn’t have sent it if you didn’t already know Noelani was dead.”

The expression on Bets’s face melted into shock again. She pushed against Sadie, and Sadie let her go, confident in her ability to reestablish control if she needed to. Bets stumbled a few feet away, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Sadie moved to the center of the room, blocking the door in case Bets was considering an exit. “You must have panicked when her body was found,” Sadie said. “Which means you expected that it wouldn’t be.”

“You’re crazy,” Bets said, her eyes frantic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sadie put her hands on her hips. “The police will track the stationery back to you. They’ll make the same connection I made between the flower on the envelope and the flower on the mural in the church. They’ll also confirm that it’s not Noelani’s handwriting. Even if it was similar enough to fool Charlie, it won’t fool the police.”

Bets covered her ears and clenched her eyes closed as though trying to block out Sadie’s words. Sadie just spoke louder. “You thought she was having an affair with your husband. She was threatening your marriage and—”

“Stop,” Bets said, her voice low and husky. “Stop it.”

“I can’t,” Sadie said, lowering her own voice and resisting the urge to accuse Bets of murder right then and there. “Because it’s the truth, and the truth can’t hide forever. You argued with her earlier in the week. What were you arguing about?”

Bets hesitated, then folded her arms across her stomach and looked at the ground. “Darryl,” she said. “She was meeting with him more and more often. Jim told me Darryl had come to her room at night, and I . . . I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You told her you’d get in her way if she didn’t get out of yours. How would you get in her way?”

Bets let out a breath, then inhaled as though pulling in strength to continue. “I told her if she didn’t leave, I’d tell DHS that her community involvement was a sham and that I knew she was dealing drugs. I told her she’d be arrested, and she would have been.”

“You put the marijuana in her room?”

Bets nodded slowly. “Where she wouldn’t find it, but the police would if I chose to call them.”

“And what did she say to your threat?”

“She said I was crazy.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not crazy,” she said, too defensive. “I’m not! I just . . . I know how easy it is for a man’s heart to wander, and she was a stripper! Darryl was . . . he was with her so much. I just . . . I just . . .”

“Did you talk to her again after that? After you threatened her?”

Bets looked at the ground but said nothing.

“You knew she was dead when you sent that note to Charlie.”

A new voice spoke up. “What note?”

Chapter 41

Sadie and Bets both turned to look at Pastor Darryl standing in the doorway. Gayle stood behind him and caught Sadie’s eyes, shrugging like she didn’t know what to do. Judging from the ashen look on Pastor Darryl’s face, he’d overheard enough to know the seriousness of the conversation.

“What note, Bets? What is she talking about?”

Gayle cleared her throat and held the note over Pastor Darryl’s shoulder. He looked at it for a moment before taking it.

“Darryl,” Bets pleaded, her voice shaking.

He removed the note from the envelope and read it. Then he looked up at his wife, his eyes confused. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking between his wife and Sadie. “What’s going on?”

“Bets sent that note to Charlie after Noelani died but before her body was found,” Sadie said.

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Bets said, pleading. “I swear.”

“Then how did you know she was dead?” Sadie said, drawing Bets’s frightened gaze back to her. “You wouldn’t have given that letter to Charlie unless you knew his mother wouldn’t be coming back to challenge it.” She paused. “And I heard what you said to Jim this morning—that you wanted Noelani to go away. I believe your actual words were ‘What does it take?’”

Bets’s face drained of even more color, and she swallowed.

“What is she talking about, Bets?” Pastor Darryl said, but he didn’t move toward her. The distance he maintained did not go unnoticed by anyone.

“I . . . I saw what happened,” Bets admitted, tears running down her cheeks as she looked at the floor again. “And I knew Charlie would be devastated. I just wanted to help him, that’s all. I thought if he had that letter he could . . . grow into understanding that she wasn’t coming back and he’d know that she said good-bye.”