Banana Split (45 page)

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Authors: Josi S. Kilpack

Tags: #Cozy Mystery

BOOK: Banana Split
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Survival—and Charlie.

 

She heard a splash on the other side of the boat and looked up in time to see Nat look across the boat as well. Had Charlie jumped in the water? Sadie swam around the front of the boat, afraid to call for Charlie but aching to hear the reassuring sound of his voice.

 

When she reached the other side of the boat, however, she saw a torpedo-shaped floatation device. Sadie’s arms and legs were already burning from the short amount of time she’d spent fighting the water, and she started swimming toward the floatation device, but Nat’s voice pulled her up short, making her realize the risk she would take by swimming away from the boat. She stayed where she was, trying to blink salt water out of her eyes.

 

“Who came with you?” he demanded, then turned toward the interior of the boat. “I’ll kill her!” he yelled, looking around the boat. “And then I’ll kill you too.” His voice was not that of a confident mercenary, though. He was scared. Terrified. But desperate.

 

He lifted the gun and fired a shot into the air. Sadie swore she could feel the shot reverberate through the water. The preserver floated farther away from the boat. Maybe Charlie would figure out a plan if she could get Nat to focus on her. Putting her life in the hands of an eleven-year-old boy wasn’t her first choice, but she had so few options right now.

 

“You’re going to prison,” Sadie said, cringing to talk about this where Charlie could hear, but she had to keep Nat’s attention. “Regardless of what happens to me, the police will catch up with you.” A wave splashed her in the face, causing her to sputter and spit.

 

“She shouldn’t have been there.”

 

“She didn’t want her son living with a drug dealer!”

 

“She should have minded her own business,” he said. He put one foot on the side of the boat to steady himself, but kept the gun at chest level. He continued to turn his head between Sadie and the boat, as though not sure where his attention should be.

 

“You’re still a murderer,” Sadie said.

 

His head snapped toward her, and he pointed the gun in her direction as his eyes narrowed. She took a breath and let gravity pull her under the water so as to take away his target. She kept one hand on the side of the boat as she moved closer to the front again. When she broke the surface, she had to gasp for air, both to fulfill the sheer need of her body demanding oxygen and to stifle the anxiety she was beginning to think would drown her before the ocean did.

 

She couldn’t see Nat but she heard him run to the other side of the boat, giving her an opportunity to swim for the life preserver. She was feet away from it when something slashed through the water in front of her a split second before she heard the gunshot. She reeled and headed back for the boat, but managed to catch the thin nylon rope attached to the preserver with her arm first.

 

Another shot entered the water beside her, and she felt a slash on her ankle but told herself it couldn’t have been the bullet. However, her ankle began to burn, which brought on a whole new fear. Now there was blood in the water. Did sharks swim at night? She whimpered as she pulled the nylon cord closer so she could grab the life preserver.

 

The life preserver, though it kept her afloat, made it harder to stay next to the boat, and it was almost more work to keep her position than it had been to keep herself above the water. There was another splash, this time on the other side of the boat, and she heard Nat run across the boat again.

 

“Nat?”

 

Charlie’s soft voice cut through the air in a way the bullets and the splashing and the terror never could. Sadie craned her neck to see what was happening on the boat, but she couldn’t see over the side. Nat was silent, and, realizing Charlie had just created the perfect distraction, Sadie began swimming as silently as she could toward the back of the boat.

 

“ . . . are you doing here?” she heard Nat say as her head bobbed in and out of the water.

 

“ . . . true? . . . killed my mom?” Charlie asked.

 

Sadie rounded the back of the boat and found the ladder. She gripped it with both hands and pulled herself up smoothly until she could catch the bottom rung with her bare feet, only then realizing she’d lost her slippahs and her shoulder bag to the ocean when she’d been thrown overboard. Her breathing was heavy and thick, but she tried to mute it as much as possible as she lifted her head high enough to see over the back of the boat.

 

Charlie stood at the top of the stairs that lead to the cabin, looking at Nat who stood with his back toward Sadie. Nat was still holding the gun, though it was pointed away from the little boy who’d just asked for a confession.

 

“I . . . I . . . I’m so sorry, Charlie,” Nat said, back to the man Sadie had met that first night. The man concerned about Charlie. The man who called Charlie his brother. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

 

“You took her on this boat?” Charlie asked, his chin quivering. “You put her in the ocean?” His voice broke, and Sadie’s chest tightened, but she started climbing, slow, smooth, and careful. The paddle Nat had swung at her earlier was on the row of seats on the right side of the boat. Sadie reached the top of the ladder but remained crouched, ready to jump back into the water if need be.

 

A quick glance down showed blood running from a three-inch gash on her ankle where the bullet must have grazed her. She looked away from the rivulet of watery blood that trailed down the edge of the boat and ignored the searing pain.

 

“It was an accident,” Nat said again. “She . . . she shouldn’t have been there.”

 

Sadie took a step onto the once-white cushion of the seat, bloody water pooling in the indentation she made with her foot.

 

“Why did you do that?” Charlie asked.

 

Sadie reached for the paddle. Just as she grabbed the handle, Nat saw her. He turned fast, but this time she was faster. She wrapped both hands around the handle and brought it down hard on the wrist of the hand holding the gun. He screamed, and she lifted the paddle again, ready to hit him in the face.

 

“Get in the cabin, Charlie,” she yelled. “Right now!”

 

She had no idea if Charlie followed her instructions. She swung for Nat’s face, but he dodged. Sadie immediately swung again, this time at the back of Nat’s knees. He fell, hitting his shoulder against the steering wheel. Sadie jumped off the seat toward him, but slipped on the slick bottom of the boat with her wet and bloody feet. In an attempt to get her balance, she pitched forward, which happened to bring her down hard on Nat’s back as he tried to stand. It was very WWF, and a happy accident that seemed to punch the air out of his lungs.

 

She didn’t waste a second of his shocked stillness. She grabbed his left arm, twisting it behind his back and pulling his wrist nearly up to his neck. He cried out in pain, but Sadie just shifted her position so she was sitting squarely in the middle of his back, bracing her right foot against the side of the boat. She’d never been so grateful for the extra twenty pounds she’d been trying to lose for the last ten years.

 

“Charlie!” she yelled. “There’s some fishing net in the cabin. Get it for me, quick!”

 

“But you said for me to go—”

 

“Net! Now!” Sadie yelled, pulling up on Nat’s arm even harder when he tried to roll her off of him. Her arms were shaking in an attempt to hold him, and the breeze off the water felt icy on her wet skin. Her adrenaline had kicked in, and the panic attack she feared would be the end of her had not taken control. “It’s by the seat you were hiding in. On the floor. Hurry!”

 

Nat yelled at her, swearing, demanding she let him go. She pulled up on his arm again. Though she wasn’t devoid of sympathy, she knew what Nat was capable of, and she wasn’t taking any chances.

 

“Lucky for you,” she said between clenched teeth as she strained to hold him still. “I’m fully prepared to show you more mercy than you showed Noelani.”

 

A moment later, Charlie’s head appeared over the top stair. He looked scared as he handed over a bunched-up wad of net. Sadie leaned forward, digging her elbow into Nat’s back to hold him still long enough so she could let go with one of her hands and grab the net. It was made of thin strings, and when she shook it out, it proved itself plenty long for her to use as a rope.

 

“Do you know how to drive this boat?” Sadie asked Charlie as she tried to figure out how she was going to tie up Nat with only one hand.

 

“Kinda,” Charlie said, but he looked at Nat with sad, scared eyes.

 

Sadie leaned down, close to Nat’s ear. “You really want him to watch you fight me? You said he needed to learn how to be a kane. Now’s your chance to show him that a real man accepts the consequences of his actions.”

 

She felt Nat’s resistance decrease and his muscles go soft beneath her, but she still wrapped the net around his wrists before tying them off and rolling him over. She tied up his feet as well.

 

Nat looked at Charlie, tears filling his eyes but apparently without justification any more. He turned his head, and Sadie felt in his pockets for his phone. He didn’t fight her. She left Nat lying in the middle of the boat as she limped to join Charlie who had started the boat and was driving forward without realizing the harbor was somewhere behind them. Her chest was tight. It was hard to breathe, but she did everything possible to keep from losing it in front of Charlie.

 

Sadie put one arm around Charlie’s shoulders. He’d started to cry but was trying to keep a brave face despite his trembling chin. With her other hand she dialed 911 on Nat’s phone. Her hands began to shake.

 

“Yes, I’m in a boat off the coast of Kaua’i and don’t know how to get back to Nawiliwili Harbor. Oh, and I also need to report a murder.”

 

Chapter 48

 

 

Monday afternoon, less than seventy-two hours since the Coast Guard had guided her to the harbor, Sadie pulled up with Gayle to the temporary shelter where Charlie had been staying while the police finished their investigation.

 

An hour earlier, Charlie’s new caseworker at the DHS office had called to tell Sadie she’d been granted a visit before Charlie would be returned to CeeCee’s care later that afternoon. Charlie had been asked if he felt comfortable returning there and he hadn’t hesitated, which relieved everyone—CeeCee especially.

 

Mr. Olie was still at Wilcox Memorial but had been able to explain that he’d spent Friday reviewing everything he knew about both Charlie and his foster family in order to present the best argument possible to the judge Monday morning. During his search, he’d come across a record of a boat CeeCee’s late husband, Yogi, had owned. With Sadie’s questions about Noelani fresh in his mind, and questions about Nat not much further behind them, Mr. Olie had tracked the boat to Slip 23 at Nawiliwili Harbor before the symptoms he’d been ignoring all day caught up with him.

 

Sadie had gone to see Mr. Olie on Sunday to update him on what had happened after he had passed the slip number on to her.

 

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said when she finished the story that still felt a little unreal. “I’d have never thought of Nat.”

 

Mr. Olie had only grunted, but she’d decided that was his way of saying “Thank you so much. You’re wonderful!”

 

“Charlie Pouhu,” Sadie said when they reached the reception desk. “I have an appointment to see him at two o’clock.” She’d made the recipe for Aloha cookies Tanya had taped up inside one of her cupboards. She and Gayle had eaten too many but she still had enough to fill two plates with what was left. One plate was for the receptionist, who accepted them with a soft “Mahalo.” The second plate was for Charlie; Sadie still felt bad that the first thing she’d ever fed him were brownies from a mix.

 

A few minutes later, Gayle squeezed Sadie’s arm before Sadie was led down a hallway and into a common area full of furniture, books, and a TV.

 

Charlie sat alone on the couch watching cartoons. Sadie sat down next to him. He glanced at her but then ducked his chin and kept watching TV. What she wouldn’t give to read his thoughts. Then again, maybe it would be too hard. He’d lost his foundation too many times in his young life, and Sadie was connected to the latest one. His reticence wasn’t hard to understand in light of all that had happened.

 

After a minute of waiting for him to say something, she broke the ice. “Howzit,” she said, trying to get him to smile by using the pidgin greeting she’d heard the local kids use.

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