Banana Split (8 page)

Sadie touched the words of the fifth question: “Did Mom say anything about me?” She let out a breath. Poor Charlie.

The last question on his list seemed to support the fact that Charlie wasn’t looking for information
about
his mom, he was looking
for
his mom.

A minute later, Sadie found herself facing her computer screen, still black since she didn’t dare touch the keyboard and wake it up yet. She stared at it for a long time, not sure she was entirely ready for this. She thought about what Pete had said: “What are you going to do?” She wanted to help Charlie, but anything she did, like everything she’d already done, could not be undone. Was she strong enough to step into this situation? Could she get out of it if it got to be too much?

The longer she sat there, the more the fear built up in her chest and the more frozen she became in her insecurities. This was so much bigger than she was. She closed the computer, but her brain wouldn’t calm down. She’d already slept through the evening and most of the night and now the sun was almost up. She went into the kitchen, thinking she’d clean until she was really tired. Instead, her eyes landed on the list of goals she’d posted on the fridge.

Go outside every day.

Eat fruit every day.

Talk to Pete every day.

She stared at the words and knew she was missing something. If she wanted to get stronger, if she wanted to be less afraid of the world around her, she needed to be proactive. She reached for a pen, adding one more goal to the list.

Do something brave every day.

Sadie looked at those words, breathed them in and rolled them around like a fine pearl. She had tracked down thugs, faced off against murderers, fought for justice and won.
That
Sadie couldn’t be too far away. There had to be a way to find her again.

Sadie went to her computer, sat down, opened a browser window, and typed in the words “Noelani Pouhu Kaua’i.” Her finger hovered over the mouse button for a few seconds before she initiated the fateful click. She paused for a moment to ensure her head wasn’t exploding, and then scanned the information the search had brought up.

It had begun.

Chapter 8

The current information on the local news sites about Noelani’s death consisted of two articles about the discovery of her body—one article included Sadie’s name as the person who’d found her—and an obituary that brought more tears to Sadie’s eyes and made her wish she hadn’t started this search. Why was this so hard?

But she was trying to be brave, and Charlie was still out there somewhere, so she clicked on some of the websites she had once used for her investigation company, which she’d completely abandoned since coming to Kaua’i. It took less than an hour for Sadie to find everything on public record about Noelani Pouhu, which she copied into a Word document and organized chronologically. It wasn’t happy information. Noelani had had three drug-related arrests over the last four years. Her employer at the time of the most recent arrest—two years ago—was a strip club in Honolulu. She’d lost custody of Charlie after that last arrest and had been sentenced to seven months in jail. She’d moved to Kaua’i after her release, but Charlie had said he moved to Kaua’i “’cause his mom did.” That seemed strange if he were in state custody.

Noelani’s Facebook profile listed her employment as a dancer and entertainer—that matched the strip club job. She had attended Punahou High School in Honolulu but didn’t post a graduation year—perhaps she’d dropped out. Charlie had been born when she was seventeen so that was a reasonable hypothesis. She hadn’t attended college, and her top three music choices were Dave Matthews, The Fray, and IZ. Sadie had become familiar with the Kaua’i-born singer Israel Kamakawiwo’ole known as IZ. Posters of his album covers—many of them featuring the 700-pound musician—were posted all over the island despite the fact that he’d been dead for more than a decade. Sadie had heard his version of “Somewhere over the Rainbow” before coming to Hawai’i, but had become familiar with his other work since her arrival. Sharing the love of his music with Noelani made Sadie feel connected to the woman in some small way. Noelani didn’t list any books, but had liked several movies Sadie had never seen, including
Fight Club
and
Shutter Island.

Sadie clicked on the photo section and got her first look at the real Noelani, rather than the bloated version from her nightmares. Most of the pictures showed the hollow face of an addict, often looking stoned or drunk as she attempted to smile at the camera during a party. There were a few pictures from the strip club where she’d worked; they were equally unfortunate, and Sadie didn’t spend much time on them. But then Sadie found a picture of Noelani with a younger version of Charlie—he was missing his two front teeth—at a beach. She looked healthy and happy with a bright smile on her face as she hugged her boy to her chest and looked into the camera. The tattoo Sadie had remembered was a dragonfly on her forearm.

In the photo, Noelani looked like any other young mother bonded to her son. A very different woman from the one in the party photos that made up the majority of her images. Sadie couldn’t help but wonder which one of the pictures represented the true Noelani. Was she more addict than mother, or was it the other way around? Charlie wanted to believe that Noelani had left the emaciated shoulders and thinning hair behind her, and for his sake, Sadie wanted to believe it too. But was that reasonable?

Sadie printed off the picture of Noelani and Charlie together and taped it to the wall above the desk. Her personal opinions about some of the ways Noelani had lived her life were secondary to the facts that, for whatever reason, God had made her Charlie’s mother and that Charlie loved her. Sadie would need to keep that perspective if she moved forward.

If.

She still wasn’t fully committed and found herself wishing for a way out almost as much as she wished for that golden nugget of information that would push her over the fence once and for all. She stood up from the computer and poured herself some cereal while she thought about her options. Neither option—pursuing it or leaving it alone—felt right.

Pete called her just after seven o’clock in the morning Hawai’i time. “I’m between workshops but I wanted to give you an update. I have someone back in Garrison looking into the social worker overseeing Charlie’s case,” he said, “but I wanted to make sure you understood that once you talk to the caseworker, you can’t control what they do with the information. Do you feel up to this?”

Pete didn’t know Sadie had spent the last two hours researching Noelani. He didn’t know that a picture of a healthy Noelani and a happy Charlie had been staring at her for almost half an hour. He didn’t know the battle taking place in Sadie’s mind. But he knew what it meant to do the right thing, and he knew what Sadie was capable of doing. That he’d done what he’d done so far, and then left it up to her, was a huge vote of confidence. But Sadie still had to make a decision. She sat down in front of her computer and looked at the picture again.

“I would like to talk to the caseworker,” Sadie said, accepting that she couldn’t turn away from this now. “I . . . I can do this.”

“Okay then,” he said. “I’ve thought this over and, while I can let it play out for the rest of the day, I’ll have to call the Kaua’i police tomorrow morning if you’re unable to make headway with the caseworker. I hope you can understand my position.”

“I understand,” Sadie said even though it bothered her. But he had responsibilities she didn’t have, and she didn’t want him to put his job at risk. He’d done that several times in the past, and she dreaded that one day his helping her would get him into serious trouble.

“I’ll send you the caseworker information as soon as I get it, okay? I’ve got a full afternoon and won’t be available much, but I’ll see that you get it.”

“Okay,” Sadie said. “Thank you, Pete.”

They said their good-byes. Sadie hoped she hadn’t distracted him too much. She wished she could do this on her own, and yet she was so grateful for both his help and his support.

After hanging up the phone, Sadie went into the kitchen and picked up Charlie’s list. Sitting in her kitchen, with the sun lighting up her windows, Sadie read Charlie’s words again. His questions were a glimpse into his place in this situation and what he needed to know if there was hope of him finding peace.

Peace.

Was it really possible?

With the last few months as an example, Sadie had a hard time feeling much faith in that. For herself. Or for Charlie. But he was young, and her heart broke. There
had
to be hope for him.

A moment later, she went to her bedroom and opened the top drawer where she’d hidden all the papers and things from her hospital stay. Shuffling through the papers, she found the card she’d been looking for—a card given to her by the officer who’d taken her statement once she’d been capable of talking about finding Noelani’s body.

Pete had told Officer Wington she might call but it was nerve-racking to think about it. What if she accidentally told him about Charlie being at her condo? What if she didn’t accidentally tell them anything, but they found out about it later? And yet, Officer Wington was Sadie’s best bet at finding the information she needed. When she saw his e-mail address on the card, she felt even better and hurried back to her computer where she sent him a message, asking for an update on Noelani’s case.

Her head didn’t explode. Bells and whistles didn’t even go off inside her brain. In fact, she felt the tiniest recognition inside herself of empowerment, confidence, and—dare she say it?—optimism. Did this little jolt mean she was doing the right thing? Gosh, she hoped so!

Now that she’d started, what came next?

She took comfort knowing that it would probably be awhile before Officer Wington got back to her, giving her time to accept the choice she’d made to contact him. However, her cell phone rang within two minutes. The number matched the one on Officer Wington’s card, and her heart, which had begun to calm, sped right back up again.

Sadie took a deep breath, pulled all her courage from the dark corners of her mind as though sweeping together dust bunnies long-ignored, and answered the phone, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.

“This is Officer Wington,” he said after she said hello. He sounded very official, with a deep voice that graveled when he spoke. “I just got your e-mail.”

Chapter 9

Yes, um, hi, uh, thanks for calling,” Sadie said, wiping her sweaty hands on her leg. Notes! She needed to take notes. With one hand holding the cell phone to her ear, she rummaged in the cupboard for a notebook and pen.

“Sure,” Officer Wington said. “Detective Cunningham had said you might call. Your e-mail said you have some questions about Ms. Pouhu.”

“Um, yes,” Sadie said. “I’m, uh, trying to get a little closure on the situation and wondered what you guys had learned about what happened to her.” Enough with the um-ing and uh-ing! She took a deep breath, channeling herself into this moment.

Officer Wington sighed. “Unfortunately, we haven’t learned much. She left work early the night of Saturday, March 17, and no one has come forward to report seeing her after that.”