O'ahu Lonesome Tonight? (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series #5) (19 page)

“I have a
manual transmission on my car at home.”

“See? How many
wahines
these days can drive a stick? This is the
least I can do. Please, take the car. For as long as you need.”

At seven that
night he called to say he’d brought over the car. I went downstairs and he
pointed to a red Nissan Sentra parked under the portico. He handed me the keys.
“You want to take it out now? Or have
me
park it for
you until tomorrow?”

“
Mahalo
, I’ll take it now. I need to get back to the
hospital.”

I didn’t tell
him I first had to go out to a fancy mansion at the end of
Kahala
Road and convince a high-strung pregnant woman to come with me to visit her
gravely ill husband.

***

After the maid
opened the front door, Natalie strode into the foyer and gripped me in a tight
hug.

“
Pali
, I’m so glad you came to see me. You can’t believe how
horrible
these past couple of days have
been.”

“Oh, but I can.
It’s been rough for everybody.”

“How’s Stu?
Tell me everything.”

I couldn’t help
but wonder how weird it was that she was asking me—the long-lost sister—to give
her updates on her husband’s fight for life.

“I’m sure
Moko
already told you that Stu’s leg surgery went well.
He’s resting, but they’re still blasting him with antibiotics.”

“And he’s still
unconscious?”

“Not totally.”

She looked
shocked. “He’s awake?”

“Yes, and
that’s why I’m here. He’s been asking for you.”

She clamped her
hand over her mouth, and then took it away. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I think I just
did.”

We rushed out
and when she saw the faded red car I’d come in, she stopped. “We can take
mine.”

“No, get in. I
don’t want you driving. You’re probably going to need to rest after seeing Stu.
I have to tell you; it’s not pretty.” I thought I’d leave it at that. No sense
talking her out of what I’d come there to talk her into.

We made it to
Queen’s Medical Center in record time, especially considering there was a wreck
on the H-1. Natalie gowned up and went in with me to see Stu without so much as
a peep of protest, but when we got there Stu had lapsed back into
unconsciousness.

“Stuart,” she
said peering into his sleeping face. “It’s me, Natalie. Don’t you want to see
me? Open your eyes, Stuart. Please?”

Nothing.

Since with Stu
unresponsive there was no reason to subject Natalie to more than a couple
minutes of the horror that had befallen her husband, I touched her gowned arm
and whispered I thought we should leave.

We stripped off
our ICU attire and Natalie appeared to be in shock. “I shouldn’t have come,”
she said. “I need to stay positive. My unborn child and I need to imagine
Stuart in a bubble of white light, where he’s healing and happy and coming home
to us soon.” She began to sway and I was concerned she was going to pass out.

“Let’s go downstairs
and get some tea,” I said. “The doctor says he’s doing better than he looks.” I
don’t know why I lied to her. It just seemed like the kind thing to do.

When we were in
the elevator she broke down. “What am I going to do?” she wailed. “He’s
my everything
. We’re having a baby, and he needs to be here
for me. I want him to shake this thing off and get out of that bed
right now
.”

I had the urge
to slap her. To smack her hard across the cheek and say, ‘Snap out of it!’ or
‘Get a grip’ or whatever line seemed best at the moment. Instead, I put a hand
on her shoulder and said, “Natalie. He’s doing the best he can. We all are.”

“Easy for you
to say,” she hissed. “You’re not the one who’s working hard to stay positive.”

We got our tea
‘to go’ and I insisted on taking Natalie home. She remained silent the entire
journey, which was a blessing since I’d had enough of her so-called ‘positive
mental attitude.’ Maybe it was best she didn’t want to be at the hospital. For
my money,
Moko’s
outlook was a hundred times more
positive, and that made him a thousand times better company.

I dropped
Natalie off and headed right back to the hospital. My tea had grown cold but I
gulped it down anyway. I was hungry and two nights of sleeping in a waiting
room chair was taking a toll.

When I got back
to the fourth floor waiting room,
Moko
was there. I
filled him in on Stu waking up and asking for Natalie and me bringing her in
only to find him out like a light.

“You look
tired,”
Moko
said. “You want I take the night shift
tonight?”

“Don’t you have
work tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s
Sunday. No work on Sunday.”

I wanted to
object. As the big sister it seemed I should be the one to shoulder the tough
duty, but I didn’t have the strength to protest.

“Nah, I mean
it,” he said. “Go home, get some sleep. I promise I’ll call if I hear
anything.”

***

It was a
quarter after one on Sunday morning when my phone buzzed on the night table. I
thought about letting it just go to voicemail but then remembered where I was
and who might be calling.

“Hello.”

“Hey
Pali
,” said
Moko’s
voice. At
least I thought it was
Moko’s
voice. It sounded like
someone had a grip on his windpipe.

“
Moko
?
What’s up?”

“Stu’s gone.”

“Gone?” For a
split second I nearly said ‘Where’d he go?’ but I managed to snatch it back
before it slipped out.

“I’ll be right
there.”

CHAPTER 26

Apparently
doctors take great offense if you die on their watch. They act as if it’s a
personal affront; as if the dead person scorned their expertise and went off
and blatantly disobeyed doctor’s orders and croaked.

The nurse in
the ICU was sympathetic. She quietly advised us of where Stu’s body had been
taken and what would happen next.

The doctor was
anything but sympathetic. “It was a miracle he lived as long as he did,” he
said. “We were fighting infection on three fronts. And no matter what we tried,
the patient remained unresponsive to even the most advanced drugs. But to be
fair, these were nasty bugs. Have you ever heard of necrotizing fasciitis? It’s
called ‘flesh-eating bacteria’ but that’s a misnomer. It doesn’t actually eat
the
flesh,
it merely renders the patient…” He went on
like that for what seemed like an obscenely long time but it was probably only
a minute or so.

Moko
stared blankly at the man; his face a veneer of
self-control I hoped I was successful at mimicking. Inside, a hot rage was
building in my gut.

“Thank you,
doctor,” I said. “We appreciate the explanation, but we’ve got work to do. Your
work is done.”

The doctor leaned
back as if offended, and then he turned and walked away.

“Snap that,”
said
Moko
when the doc was out of earshot.

“Yeah, I know.
But I didn’t want to hear any more of his lame excuses. What’s he think we’re
gonna
do—sue the hospital or something?”

Moko
plopped down in a chair and covered his face with his
hands. His back shook as he allowed himself to absorb the full impact of Stu’s
death. I sat beside him and put my arm around his shoulders.

“Love you,” I
said.

***

As if we hadn’t
dealt with enough that night, Wendi Takeda showed up a half-hour later.

“Sorry for your
loss,” she said. “I heard it was peaceful.”

I stared at her
the way you’d stare at a naked stranger at your wedding. “What are you doing
here?”

“Okay, so maybe
I’m jumping the gun a little. But you need to hear me out. And you need to act.
Now.”

Moko
eased out of his chair. He stood over her as if his
sheer bulk might intimidate her enough to scurry back under whatever rock she’d
crawled out from.

She didn’t
budge.

“
Pali
,
Moko
, you both need to
consider this. Don’t you think your brother would want you to look into what
happened?
To seek justice for him?”

“What on earth
are you talking about?” I said.

“Your brother
didn’t die from an accident.
Or from a normal infection.
Your brother was murdered, clear and simple. The City of Honolulu has been
pumping millions of gallons of untreated sewage into the
Ala
Wai
Canal with no regard for human life or property.
That sewage infected your brother with bacteria rarely seen in waterways in the
civilized world, let alone the United States of America.

“The guys at
City Hall are still claiming the sewage spill is safe. They’re saying the
currents are pulling it out into the ocean and it’s being absorbed and
neutralized by the greater ecosystem. They haven’t even closed Waikiki Beach,
for crying out loud. It’s only a matter of time before a tourist with an open
sore gets infected with the same scary stuff that killed your brother. Stuff
that modern medicine can’t treat.”

“Look, Wendi,”
I said. “I don’t care about tourists.
Or sewage.
Or the guys at City Hall.
My brother is dead. And right now,
that’s the only thing I care about.”

“Fair enough.
But tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever
it’s appropriate, I want to talk to you. Because like I said, your brother
didn’t die from natural causes. There was nothing ‘natural’ about it.”

She left and
Moko
and I let out a collective sigh.

“You think
she’s right?” he said. “That we should look into what happened to Stu?”

“I don’t know.
And right now it doesn’t matter what happened. What matters is getting our
ohana
together and taking care of Stuart.”

“Do you think
the hospital has called Natalie?”
Moko
said. “Or do
we have to do it?”

Our eyes
locked.

“Poor Natalie,”
I said. “No way
she can
go on wishing it away now.”

“Yeah, I hope
she’ll be okay.”

“At least her
sister’s there with her,” I said.

Moko
grunted. “Her sister can’t stand her.”

I was confused.

“That sister
who works in their house?” he said. “She’s like some
kinda
slave, man. Natalie brought her here from Hong Kong and she works for her for
nuthin
’. That was their deal.”

“Like an indentured servant?”

“Whatever that is.
Thing is, as far as I know, Natalie’s got
nobody. Her parents are dead; her sister hates her. And now that Stu’s gone the
sister will probably run away. She already tried it once but Stu got the cops
to bring her back. He said she
woulda
ended up on the
street. Like a prostitute or
somethin
’.”

“Some family.”

“Yeah.
We
Wilkersons
are pretty
much the only
ohana
she’s got.”

“Then we need
to help her,” I said. “And I guess that starts with shattering her bubble of
denial.”

***

Natalie didn’t
answer her phone. There was no way I was going to leave a ‘detailed message’ as
she’d requested on her voice mail, so I just said, “It’s me,
Pali
. Call me as soon as you can.”

It was already
almost six a.m. in Montana. I figured Hatch would be awake. He’d always been an
early riser, and in Maui his shift started at eight. No telling when shifts
start when you’re out in the woods fighting wild fires.

“Hello?” he
said.
“That you,
Pali
?”

“Yeah, it’s
me.” I sighed.

“Hey, is it
some kind of chore to call me?” he said. He chuckled.
Then,
as if we were in a cartoon and a little light bulb had gone off over his head,
he quickly followed up with, “Oh, no.
Has something bad happened?”

“Yeah.
My brother Stuart died.”

“Died? I
thought he was in the hospital. I thought he was getting the full Rolls Royce
treatment.”

“He was and he
did. But he had infections that the drugs couldn’t touch.
Flesh-eating
bacteria.”

“Oh my God.
That’s awful.”

“I’m just
feeling so alone. I know it’s stupid. I just met Stuart a week ago. But I feel
like ever since I found my family it’s been nothing but bad.
Like
I’ve caused a whole raft of crap to come raining down on these people.”

“Don’t think
that way. That’s not true. Not true at all. Your brother would’ve fallen in
that canal with or without you. You just wouldn’t have known about it.”

“Well, I
actually would have known it happened. It’s been all over the news. It’s just
that I wouldn’t have known he was my brother.”

“Yeah, that’s
what I meant.”

There was a
little pause and the line made a swishing sound while we each waited for the
other one to pick up the conversation. The sound on the line reminded me that
Hatch was over three thousand miles away.
In a different time
zone and a totally different part of the country.

“Are you
gonna
be okay?” he said. “Do you need me to come be with
you?”

“There’s
nothing I’d like better, but I’ll be fine. I just miss you. And it makes me worry
to think about how fragile life is. I mean, one minute Stu was at a meeting at
his private yacht club and the next minute they were fishing him out of a
cesspool.”