I'm Kona Love You Forever (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series Book 6) (26 page)

I scrambled to try to remember the basics of the Hippocratic Oath. “Is that the vow to
first do no harm?” I said.

“Precisely.
I did no harm; I tried to help. I did everything imaginable to keep this from happening.”

“Keep what from happening?” I said.

“This.” She pointed to Lili and David. They were standing at the end of the pool of light, holding hands. Their faces were immobile, their eyes dilated to nearly black. The effect was of two feral cats attempting to stay hidden from an animal control officer making his rounds with a burlap bag.

“What in the world are you talking about?” said Loke. She’d returned with Ray in to
w. Ray was carrying a four-foot piece of wood, like those used to stake up drooping tree branches. His calm demeanor and steely stare reminded me of Roosevelt’s, “Speak softly but carry a big stick.”

Ray spoke up, his voice a serene bass in contrast to Charlene’s shrill soprano. “I think we’re all a bit confused here, Charlene. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”

Charlene crumpled like a brown paper bag. “It’s not for me to tell. Ask Pono.”

“My dad’s drunk
,” said David from the shadows. “And it looks like he plans to stay that way. Please, tell us what you know.”

Charlene looked over at the couple and said, “I’m
truly sorry. I was just trying to help. Let me get something out of my car first, okay?”

CHAPTER 30

I saw the flash before I heard the sound. Anyway, that’s how I later recalled it. At the time, my brain was having a tough time comprehending any of what was happening. I remember seeing Charlene’s shadowy body slumped behind the wheel of her car, her head lolled against a shattered side window.

“Everyone
stay back,” said Ray. He held up his palm like a cop halting traffic. “Loke, go inside and call nine-one-one.”

The rest of us—David, Lili
, and I—stood stock-still, as if we’d been told we’d stumbled into a minefield. And, in a way, we had.

Nothing made sense. How had Charlene gotten her hands on a gun?
Unlike a lot of mainland states, gun laws in Hawaii are strict. In order to even buy a gun or ammunition, you first have to get a permit from the local chief of police. And police chiefs are notoriously stingy about sharing fire power with the locals. I mean, think about it. The last thing they want is a front page story about a police shoot-out with a formerly upright citizen who has a gun permit with the police chief’s signature on it.

The
police arrived about ten minutes later with an ambulance pulling up close behind. By then, we’d all made our way back to the house, each of us lost in the stunned silence of witnesses to a tragedy.

The police asked us our names and our relationship
to the victim. I wanted to say “nemesis” but held back. The police I’d dealt with before had never appreciated my attempts at humor, and from the looks of the two big cops standing in Loke’s kitchen, that wasn’t about to change. 

“
None of you are family to the victim?” the older cop said.

“Not that we know of,” said Loke. Until she said that, I hadn’t given Charlene’s last words much thought. Had she hinted she knew more about Lili’s birth than we imagined? Could she possibly be related to her? Maybe an aunt, or cousin, or…
heaven, forbid, her mother?

Lili’s parentage was still up for grabs
. Perhaps Charlene’s song and dance about Lili’s mother “suffering” was really her own suffering in having to give her up. I know it’s not kind to speak ill of the dead, so I kept my opinions to myself. But as I watched out the window as they loaded Charlene Cooper’s lifeless body for the quick trip to the morgue, I didn’t feel anything but loathing. In my heart and brain, I was calling her out for being selfish, vicious, and cold-hearted in taking the truth with her to the grave.

***

As hard as it is to believe, I’ve managed to spend a considerable amount of time in police stations on all of the Hawaiian Islands I’ve visited. The police departments of Maui, Lana’i, Kaua’i, and O’ahu have all graciously entertained me, and now it appeared I was about to enjoy the hospitality of Hawaii Island’s finest.

“We’ll need statements from each of you,” said the cop. “I know it’s late, but we’d like to take care of it while the events are still fresh in your mind.”

“Are you implying we did anything to contribute to Charlene’s death?” said Loke. Ray touched her arm and gave her a tiny shake of the head.

The cop saw it and said, “Your husband’s right. It’s best you not say anything until we get down to the station.”

“Are you going to read us our rights?” Loke persisted.

“No, ma’am.
You’re not under arrest. We’re just gathering information.”

“Because there are
five people here and we all saw the same thing,” she went on. “Charlene was about to tell us something and she just snapped. She ran over to her car and the next thing we knew, she’d…she’d…” Loke began sobbing.

“As you can see, Officer, this has been extremely upsetting for my wife,” said Ray. “Is there any chance we could do this tomorrow?”

The cop seemed to weigh which would be more difficult to explain to his superiors: trying to take a statement from a weeping distraught witness, or allowing her time to calm down but perhaps forgetting a few details.

“Okay, Mrs. Vick can give her statement first thing in the morning
. But I’ll need the rest of you to come in tonight.”

“How about me?” said
Lili. “I’m a teenager. I’m not even eighteen yet. Are you gonna put me in juvie? Because, if you are, I know I’m allowed to make one phone call.”

I was glad it was a warm evening
because if it was a few degrees cooler we probably would’ve seen the steam coming out of the cop’s ears. “No, you’re not going to juvenile hall. You’ll be going to the precinct in Kailua-Kona with the rest of the witnesses. You’re all witnesses, nothing more. We appreciate your cooperation.”

I drove Lili, David and Ray down to the station, happy we hadn’t been relegated to the back seat of a cop car. “
Okay,” I said when all the car doors were shut and everyone had buckled up. “We’re only required to tell them what we saw. I’ve done this a few times before, so let me give you some advice: simply answer the questions they ask you. Don’t say anything more. They’ll probably ask you the same question a few different ways but don’t let it rattle you. Just give the same answer over and over.”

A beat went by and I added, “Oh, and one more thing: use the bathroom whenever they
ask if you need it. You’ll be glad you did.”

We’d gone about two miles when Ray spoke up. “Tell me again what you do for a living?”

“I’m a wedding planner.”

“Ah,” he said.

“But, in the past couple of years, I’ve dealt with a few unfortunate situations. So, I’ve spent some time in police stations.”

“I see.”

“But just as a witness. I’ve never actually been arrested.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence.

***

I was pleased to get out of the police station by one a.m., but the others seemed cranky.

“I thought we’d never get out of there,” said David.

“
Yeah,” said Lili, “Those cops must be really dumb. Either that or they don’t hear so good. They kept asking me the same stuff over and over and over. I wish I’d had a Q-Tip. I would’ve offered to clean out their ears.”

“Remember when I told you they’d do that?” I said. “
It’s how these things go. They’re checking to make sure you stick with your story.”

“They
think we’re liars?” said David.

“No. They
just need to be thorough. Sometimes, eye witness accounts can be a little shaky.”

“I did
it exactly as you told us to,” said Ray. “I answered only the question they asked and nothing more. If they asked it again, I stuck with my original answer.”

I pulled into the coffee farm and then re
membered David was with us. “Where would you like me to take you?”

“I’ll sleep in the car,” he said in a weary voice. “No way
I’m going back to my sister’s or my dad’s. I’ll stretch out back here and I’ll be fine.”

“
There’s a cot in the roasting barn,” said Ray. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s got a half-decent mattress and a sink you can use. I’d put you up in one of the cabins, but we’re all booked up with the coffee buyers.”

“The barn
sounds good to me,” said David. “I love waking up to the smell of fresh coffee.”

***

By the time I crawled into bed alongside Lili, it was nearly two a.m. There was no way I’d be making the first flight to Maui at nine. Good thing I hadn’t sent a text to Hatch to tell him when I was coming home. I’d disappointed him enough already. I started working out what I was going to say to him but caught myself dozing off before I came up with anything good.

The last image I saw before I drifted off completely was the flash of the gun as Charlene took the coward’s way out.
What could possibly have been so shameful she’d rather die than face the consequences? And why blow your brains out in full public view? Wasn’t suicide best left to a locked room with a good-bye note propped up on the table explaining the circumstances?

I’d never considered myself an especially private person, but in the past week I’d found myself questioning
why people seemed to want an audience for just about everything. Have a new baby? Post it on FaceBook. Rescue a puppy from the pound? Make a YouTube video of the puppy’s homecoming. Propose to your girlfriend? Rent the Jumbo-tron at a sports stadium.

Was
nothing sacred anymore? Had privacy gone out of style?

And then it dawned on me: if people didn’t want an audience for life’s
big events, I’d be out of a job.

CHAPTER 31

The sky outside the cabin was a brilliant cerulean blue; a perfect winter’s day in Hawaii. I’d slept well and I woke up refreshed, ready to take on the day. Then the memory of what I’d witnessed the night before caught up with me and I rolled over and stuffed my face in the pillow.

“You want to
go in the shower first?” said Lili. “Or you can sleep in. I’m going to call my dad and have him book me on a flight home today. I’ll come back later for David’s mom’s service.” Lili sounded strong, confident. A big change from the chirpy little-girl voice of when I’d first met her.

“What time is it?” I said. I elbowed my way up on one arm and looked at the clock. It was
almost eight-thirty. “Wow, I must’ve really needed the sleep.”

“I didn’t sleep
good at all,” she said. “You know what really bugs me?”

I didn’t know if she expected an answer, but I could think of at least a dozen things Lili would find annoying: me hogging the covers, David postponing the wedding, her looming GED classes
.

“I
can’t stop thinking Charlene killed herself just so she wouldn’t have to tell me who my mom was.”

Ah, the narcissism of youth. Was I ever so self-
centered? The answer was probably something I wasn’t willing to admit, let alone remember.

When I finally made my way to
the coffee farm kitchen, David and Lili were already there. The kids told me Ray had taken Loke to the police station, but she’d made banana bread for breakfast before she left.

I filled a coffee cup and took a seat at the table. The scent of the warm banana bread reminded me I hadn’t eaten dinner.

“Everyone okay this morning?” I said.

“I guess,” said David. “
Lili’s leaving.”

“So I heard,” I said.

Lili reached over and squeezed David’s hand. “Just for a little bit. I’ll be back for the memorial service.”

“If there ever
is
a memorial service,” said David. “My sisters will probably fight over it for weeks.”

“But don’t they have to get back to their homes and jobs?”

“You’d think. But, knowing my sisters, they’ll milk this ‘my mom died’ thing for as long as they can. Most of them will get, like, two weeks off for bereavement. And my guess is they’ll manage to stretch it beyond that.”

I took a few sips of coffee and ate a piece of the banana bread in about three bites. There were four pieces left on the plate.

“Does anyone want me to cook some eggs? I’m not much of a cook, but I do know how to scramble an egg.”

“That’d be great,” said David. “I’m starving.”

I scrambled the last four eggs from Loke’s refrigerator. David and Lili stared into space as if on hold, or in shock.

“Are you two all right?” I said. “I know it’s not
easy to talk about what happened last night, but maybe we should.”

“Yeah,” said David. “I hope my dad’s sobered up by now
, because I really need to talk to him about what he was rambling on about.”