“Great,”
I said. So, I’ve probably lost a wedding client over this. Are you going to
tell me what I’m accused of?”
“In
this room I’m the one asking the questions. But, to show good faith, I’ll make
an exception just this once.” He smiled that brittle smile cops flash when they
pull you over for fifty in a thirty-five. “Here’s the deal, Ms. Moon—mind if I
call you Pali?” He didn’t wait for me to respond before going on. “You showed up
at the airport this morning carrying a large amount of cash reeking of cocaine.
You caused quite a stink—pardon the pun—with the drug-sniffing dog.”
“Cocaine?
That money was payment for a
wedding
. I’ve got the invoices to prove
it.”
Again
with the snarky smile.
“We’ve
had a chance to talk with Detective Wong,” he went on. “We know you’ve been
consorting with a person of interest who’s been on our watch list for quite a
while now. So why don’t you tell me more about how you came to be in possession
of ten thousand dollars that’s so saturated with drug dust we’re going to have
to give our canine officer the rest of the week off so he can recover from
nasal fatigue?” He chuckled at his own lame humor.
“Look,”
I said. “I run a legitimate business. I own a wedding planning service that
coordinates destination weddings for mainland clients. I don’t do background
checks on my customers. If I was paid with drug money, then I’m as horrified as
you are. But I have no idea where that money came from, I swear.”
“You
look like a nice person, Pali. And believe me, we want to believe you. But in
order to give your story that ring of truth we’re seeking here, we’ll need some
solid information. When Detectives Wong and Konomanu took your statement about
your wedding client…what was his name again?”
“Are
you talking about Keith Lewis?”
“Yeah,
I guess that’s the name he used. Anyway, they were less than impressed with
your candor. So now it’s my turn. We’re going to go over every single detail of
everything you know about this Mr. Lewis, and when we’re through, if I feel
you’ve been truly forthcoming with me, you can leave. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds
like a complete waste of everybody’s time. I didn’t hold anything back when I
talked with Wong and his partner. I really doubt there’s anything more you can
wring out of me.”
“Still,
I’d like to give it a try.”
And
so began four hours of questions about every aspect of Keith Lewis. By the time
I was excused I was exhausted—and starving.
On
my way out, a police clerk handed me a plastic Ziploc bag. Inside it I could
see my driver’s license, my cell phone, and a piece of paper detailing the
items they’d kept as evidence.
So—I’d
walked into the Wailuku Police Station owning a beach bag purse containing a
few personal items and a huge wad of cash. I walked out four hours later
carrying a clear plastic bag that held my phone, my ID, and a voucher for ten
thousand bucks I’d never see hide nor hair of again.
CHAPTER 18
A
street cop drove me back to my car at the Kahului Airport. When I asked if the
police department would validate my parking, the guy laughed. I tried to
convince the female lot attendant to cut me some slack because I’d spent the
last five hours in police custody.
“What’d
you do,
sista
?”
“They
accused me of having drugs in my purse, but I didn’t.”
“Drugs?
You packin’ drugs? Girl, you don’t get no sympathy from me.”
“I
didn’t
have
drugs. The sniffer dog was wrong.”
“You
know it costs like a million dollars to train one of them drug sniffin’ dogs.
They’re smart. Way smarter than
some
people.”
I
rooted through the glove box and managed to come up with enough cash to pay the
full parking tab. Then I popped the clutch and screeched my tires getting out
of there.
Although
it was one of Hatch’s non-duty days I didn’t feel like calling him. He’d
already gotten cranky about my little voyage to Honolulu with Ono. I wasn’t in
the mood to listen to a lecture about how I could’ve avoided today’s events by
vetting my customers a bit more carefully.
I
called Farrah but I had to leave a message. She must’ve been with a customer. I
hadn’t seen her in so long I was sure she would have picked up my call if she
could.
Next,
I called Sifu Doug. “Hi,” I said in the sunniest voice I could muster. “Where
are you?”
“I’m
home. Laila’s at the grocery store and I’m watching the kids.”
“I
was afraid of that.”
“Why?
What’s up?”
“I
need to talk to you. I’m kinda in a jam. Can you meet me at the PoP in a little
while?”
When
he didn’t answer, I went on, “I’m sorry to break in on your family time.
If you want, I can come up there.” Doug’s house was further up the
mountain, in Pukalani.
“No,
I’ll come down. I’ll get the neighbor to watch the kids.”
“I
wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“I
know. See you down there.”
***
After
I caught him up on the events that landed me in an interrogation room at the
Wailuku Police Station, Doug’s forehead was deeply creased. “Pali, this is so
weird. You know the other day when you told me about finding that hair and the
fingernails and all that? Well, I put the word out. A day later my cousin Beni
calls and tells me he needs a place to lay low for a while. He says if I take
him in, he’ll tell me what he knows about a red-haired
haole
girl who
got herself messed up with some guys he hangs with. But my Laila put her foot
down and said ‘no way’ would she let him come stay with us. Beni’s been busted
for drugs a bunch of times and even did some prison time over in Waipahu for
dealing ice.”
As
he talked, the hair on the back of my neck prickled. Pretty bridesmaid Crystal
Wilson was mixed up with local drug dealers?
“Yeah,
so anyway, that’s weird, huh?” he said. “You think Beni might know something,
or is he just scamming me for a place to stay?”
“Only
one way to find out.”
***
About
an hour later—just after five o’clock—my phone rang. “I’m afraid I don’t have
good news, Pali. Beni’s pretty whacked out. Says he won’t tell me anything
until I promise him a place to hide. He can’t stay at PoP because I’ve got
classes tomorrow morning. And Laila’s totally shut me down on him staying up
here at the house—even for just a night. Says she hates to turn away
ohana
members, but she’s afraid for our kids.”
“I
can’t blame her.” I thought it over for a couple of beats. “You know, if he
promises to behave himself, maybe I could put him up for a night or two. I
don’t have any kids, and I really want to hear what he has to say.”
“You
sure you want my doper cousin on your couch? I bet your roommate’s not gonna
vote for that.”
“I’m
not too crazy about it either, but I can’t let this go. Even if Crystal’s a
druggie, or involved with druggies, she’s still a human being. I won’t be able
to live with myself if I don’t at least try to find out what happened to her.
The police don’t seem to be doing much.”
I
agreed to pick up Beni at Palace of Pain in half an hour. When I got there, he
was hiding in the men’s bathroom. I’d met Beni a time or two before, but the
guy who came slinking out of the men’s room looked nothing like the fresh-faced
local boy I remembered. This guy resembled the wasted dude on the local “Ice
Kills” posters. Skinny—real skinny—with a fringe of greasy dark hair shielding
his eyes. The hair, as well as the rest of Beni, looked like it hadn’t been
washed in a month. His complexion was a mess; his teeth and gums even worse.
“Nice
to see you again,” I said, lying through my own twice-daily flossed and brushed
teeth.
“
Da
kine
, whatever,” he said.
The
ride back up to Hali’imaile was quiet. Beni slumped in the passenger seat, his
face turned toward the passenger window. He lifted his left shoulder and
kept it there in a feeble attempt to put a physical barrier between us. I had a
bad feeling Steve was going to refuse to pay me any rent for the time Beni
spent with us. If I hadn’t had to hand over Keith’s drug money to the police
I’d have readily agreed. As it was, I was hoping we could work out a negotiated
settlement.
Beni’s
move-in was a breeze. He travelled light, as in he didn’t have a single thing.
No change of underwear, no toothbrush, nothing at all. I took him upstairs to
the guest room and opened the fold-out sofa. The thin mattress curled up on
both ends. It looked about as comfy as a prison cot.
“You
going to be okay up here?” I said.
Beni
nodded. It was impossible to read his expression through the shank of oily
hair.
“I’ll
bring up some towels and stuff so you can take a shower. The bathroom’s right
next door. You’ll be sharing it with my roommate, Steve.”
He
shrugged.
“Are
you hungry? We’re going to have dinner in a little while. You’re more than
welcome to join us.”
Head
shake.
“Well,
if you get hungry later on, no problem. Just come down and I’ll make you a
sandwich or something.”
A
shrug.
“Okay
then, I’ll go downstairs and get your linens.”
Steve
had come into the kitchen and was taking things out of the refrigerator to
start our dinner. I didn’t look forward to informing him he’d be sharing his
upstairs living quarters with an unwashed drug-addled dude with the vocabulary
of a mime.
***
Beni
didn’t come down for dinner on Thursday night, and he didn’t come to breakfast
the next morning, either.
“What’s
with this guy, Pali?” said Steve. “It creeps me out to be sleeping down the
hall from a guy I’ve never even seen.” His heaping bowl of health food store
granola looked like it contained about as much fiber as a sheet of plywood.
“He’s
in hiding,” I said. “Sifu Doug says Beni’s scared there’s a nasty drug dealer
after him. But who knows? Paranoia and meth are like peanut butter and jelly.
I’m giving him a little time to settle in and then I’m going to pick his brain
about Crystal Wilson.”
“Assuming
he’s got any brain left to pick.”
“Yeah,
he’s kind of a mess.”
At
ten a.m. my patience ran out. Beni had been in my house for almost sixteen
hours and I still hadn’t even heard him use the bathroom. Maybe he’d gotten
folded up in the sofa bed.
“Beni?”
I rapped on his door.
No
sound from inside.
“Beni,
I have a key that unlocks this door. If you don’t answer me right now, I’m
going to assume the worst and come in to save you.” I didn’t really have a key,
but sometimes a fib works wonders.
I
heard shuffling across the wooden floor. Then the door opened a crack. The
smell made me wonder if he’d rigged up a chamber pot rather than leave the
room.
“Beni,
I need to talk to you. Or, more precisely, you need to start talking to
me
.”
“Whaddaya
want to talk about?” His voice was slurred.
“Beni,
have you been drinking?”
He
laughed a feeble, choking laugh and opened the door a bit wider. Then he turned
and flopped face-first onto the rumpled sofa bed.
The
room was dark with the bamboo shade pulled tightly down. It smelled like rancid
oil and human sweat.
“What’s
going on? You don’t eat, you don’t take a shower. What is this? Did someone
take you to see
Psycho
when you were at a vulnerable age?”
“Huh?”
He coughed a shallow, but wet, cough. “Hey, you got anything? You know—weed,
pills, somethin’ like that?”
“No,
and even if I did I wouldn’t give you any. We have a deal. You can hide out
here for a little while, but you have to tell me what you know about the
red-haired girl.”
“Oh
shit, man. I don’ want to talk about that—not never!”
“Look,
the only reason you’re here is because you told your cousin Doug you’d tell
what you know about her. I need to find her. If you’ve changed your mind, say
so. Because if you’re not going to honor your side of the bargain then you’ll
need to leave—like immediately.”
“I
can’t talk right now. I’m coming down, eh? Give me a little more time, man.”
“
Coming
down
? Coming down from what?”
“You
name it. I snorted some ice yesterday and it’s ugly, man. Then I smoked some
stuff—hash, I think. But it coulda been somethin’ else.” He held out a hand
that shook like a palsied ninety-year-old.
“Okay,
we’ll talk tonight. But here are the rules of the house: you need to take a
shower no later than three this afternoon and you’ll come down for dinner at
six.”
“I’m
not hungry, man.”