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Kaua'i Me A River Part 20

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Steve rubbed his thumb and fingertips together. "You may not realize it now, but if you'll just allow yourself to embrace the Paris Hilton lifestyle I'm sure you'd come to love it. It's time to let go of the old to make room for the new."

I dragged myself back to the bathroom for a shower. I'd convinced myself I didn't want Phil's money, but maybe Steve had a point. A fresh start. I liked the sound of that.

After a slovenly Sunday I made myself go to work on Monday. I might be an *heiress-in-waiting' but the *in-waiting' part reminded me I still needed to book a few weddings for the foreseeable future.

I fiddled around on my website and put up an ad offering a twenty-percent discount to couples who booked within the next month. It took me longer than I'd expected and soon my stomach was growling. I saved the changes and went next door to the Gadda to get something to eat. I considered grabbing a yogurt, then nixed that idea. Nope, what I wanted was some Little Debbie's. I hadn't eaten a Little Debbie's Devil Square since college. We used to call them *dorm crack.'

As usual, Farrah was busy with a customer when I came in. She had Moke crammed into a baby sling across her breast, and although I'd never say it, she looked kind of kangaroo-ish. I waited until she was free and then I plunked a white box of Devil Squares on the counter.



"You sure you don't want to reconsider?" she said. "You know, they don't call them *Devil' Squares for nothing."

"One-hundred-percent sure."

"Well, do you have a permission slip from Sifu Doug? I don't want him calling the cops and accusing me of aiding and abetting."

"Just ring *em up, okay?"

She punched in the sale on her ancient cash register and then hesitated before handing over my change.

"Something's wrong, isn't it? she said. "Is it Hatch?"

"You're the psychic."

She glowered at me.

"Okay, I really don't want to get into it, but it seems Hatch is having a fling with Shadow."

"No way."

"Way." I told her about Shadow modeling her lingerie for us on Sat.u.r.day night.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"She ordered him to come to bed. Said she was waiting for him. And then he apologized by saying he'd told her to *cool it' when I was around."

Farrah bit her lip. "I'll get to the bottom of this. I promise."

I took my Little Debbie booty back to my shop, hoping to pa.s.s the afternoon in a chocolate and sugar haze. The mail had been pushed through the mail slot and I picked it up. I ripped the plastic wrap off a Devil Square and started munching while I sorted the catalogs and brochures from the few pieces of first cla.s.s mail. There were two white envelopes. One had the Hawaii Department of Vital Records as the return address. I slit it open, then wiped my sticky hands on a tissue before removing what was inside.

Each of the two pages in the envelope bore the Hawaii State Seal. The top sheet was my mother's death certificate. It was typed in all caps, which made it feel like someone was shouting. My breathing gave a little hitch when I noted the date and time she'd been p.r.o.nounced, and then it hitched again when I read the cause of death-cerebral hemorrhage.

"True," I whispered. "But not the whole truth, so help me G.o.d."

I thought about how, sooner or later, I was going to have to call Jeff and tell him what I'd learned. That our mom had been brutally murdered and justice had been denied her for over thirty years. I wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

The second sheet was my mom's marriage certificate. It was on light green safety paper with a watermark to help detect copies or forgeries. I was startled to read the date and realize she'd been married just weeks before she died. But then I read further. I read and re-read one line since it seemed my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then I dropped the certificate on the desk and stared out the window.

Like it or not, I had to go back to Kaua'i.

CHAPTER 28.

I called the airlines and booked a flight for the next morning. I'd be taking a carry-on bag because this time I wouldn't be coming home until I'd cut through all the lies. Then I called Sunny.

"I've got a few days off and I'd like to come for a visit," I said. "Is it okay if I stay at your place?"

"You're always welcome," she said, but her tone was wary. "When were you planning to come?"

"Tomorrow." I figured I better offer some explanation. "Yeah, things with my boyfriend are kind of tense. I thought maybe a few days apart might help."

"When are you arriving? I'll send Timo down to get you."

"Mahalo, but I think I'll rent a car. I'd like to take some drives; maybe go to the beach for an afternoon."

"Suit yourself."

I folded up my mother's death and marriage certificates and slipped them in my purse. Then I locked up the shop and drove home. No sense hanging around pretending I was working. My mind was already on Kaua'i.

On Tuesday morning I caught the eight-fifteen direct into Lihue. I rented the most inconspicuous car on the lot-a silver-gray Ford Focus. Before going to Sunny's I stopped at the police station on Ka'ana Street.

A handsome wet-behind-the-ears duty clerk greeted me and asked what he could do for me. I considered a politically incorrect remark but stifled it. If I was going to get what I'd come for, I needed to play it straight.

"I'm here about an incident that happened thirty years ago," I said. "On the North Sh.o.r.e."

"That was a long time ago."

We held each other's gaze and I was pretty sure he was thinking what I was thinking, before he was even born.

"I know. But I'm not talking about a parking ticket or littering," I said. "I'm here regarding an unsolved murder."

He sat up straighter. "Okay. Then you should probably talk to a detective."

He looked down at his console and punched in some numbers. Then he turned in his chair so he no longer faced me and spoke quietly into his headset. Did he think I could read lips? Or maybe he was telling them he had a nutcase out front. After a few back and forths with the person on the other end he swiveled back around.

"Sorry. I forgot to ask your name."

"Pali Moon."

He returned to his nearly inaudible conversation and after another half-minute he returned with a verdict. "Detective Wong says she can be back here in fifteen to twenty minutes. She'd like you to wait."

I took a seat in the all-beige waiting room. People refer to cops as the *thin blue line' but in my experience, beige is the operative color.

Half-an-hour later, Detective Kiki Wong came into the waiting room from somewhere in the back. She led me to the same nondescript interview room I'd been in when I'd been questioned about Peggy Chesterton's accident. She pointed to a seat at the table and then sat across from me. The room was spooky quiet. All I could hear was the low shush of the air conditioner fan.

"Sorry to make you wait. We're working a burglary in Nawiliwili."

"Any news on the Peggy Chesterton accident?" I said.

"Not much. Are you here to enlighten me?" She perked up, as if hoping I was there to unburden my soul and fill in the blanks.

"No, sorry. I'm here about a cold case."

She squinted, as if getting ready to blow me off with, *Not my job.'

"I think the Kaua'i Police Department was involved in covering up a brutal murder in 1981," I said. Nothing like leading with a sharp jab.

"That's a pretty serious allegation," she said.

"Yeah, well it's a pretty serious offense."

"What leads you to believe this, Ms. Moon?"

"My mother lived in Ha.n.a.lei in 1981 and on the night of April 16, 1981 she was beaten to death. The police called it an accident. They didn't even investigate it."

"Are you sure about that?"

"What? Am I sure my mother was beaten to death? Or sure the police didn't investigate?"

"Both," she said. She leaned back in her chair. I had a hunch she'd much rather have been dealing with the burglary in Nawiliwili.

I pulled out my mom's death certificate and slid it across the table. Then I told Wong the story I'd heard from both Joanie Bush and Sunny Wilkerson. She listened, but hardly lifted her eyes from the certificate.

"Is that it?" she said when I finished.

"Isn't that enough?" I'd implicated AJ Chesterton, big-time, and from where I was sitting it looked as if she was struggling to decide what to do with my allegations.

"I'd like to take this one step at a time. Let me make a copy of the death certificate and see what I come up with regarding this incident. Obviously I wasn't on the force at the time and many of the people who were are retired." I figured she was referring to AJ's father, Arthur Chesterton. The Chestertons had just held Peggy's memorial service so the timing was about as lousy as it could be.

"Are you staying on the island?" she said.

"Yes. Up at Sunny Wilkerson's," I said.

"Good. We'll be in touch."

She led me out to the lobby. As I was about to go outside, she said, "Oh, and Miss Moon? I'd prefer you keep this to yourself for now. The Chestertons are...well, you can imagine."

I nodded.

I drove up to Sunny's. She remotely opened the gate and I made my way through the thick foliage. As the branches sc.r.a.ped the sides of the rental car I once again felt as if I was being watched. It was the same feeling I'd had up at Taylor Camp. Creepy, but somehow encouraging at the same time. Like when Farrah talks about communing with her guardian angel.

Sunny came out to greet me. "Did you have trouble finding the place on your own? I was beginning to worry. I expected you an hour ago."

"Oh, sorry. I stopped off at the police station," I said.

"Why?"

"I wanted to talk to the police."

"About?"

"About my mother's death."

"Oh Pali. Let it go. It was such a long time ago. I'm sure your mother would want you to-"

"I doubt if you have the slightest idea what my mother would want. Getting to the bottom of this is as much for me and my brother as for my mother. We want to know what happened."

"Suit yourself. Why don't you take your things to the ohana and come back and join me for a gla.s.s of sun tea?"

I parked in front of the guest house. When I went inside I felt like calling Sunny and telling her I needed an hour to freshen up and then tearing the place apart looking for-what? I had to make do with testing her reaction to the evidence I already had.

When I went over to the main house Sunny was outside waiting for me. I sat down and she handed me a gla.s.s of sun tea.

"This is good," I said, taking a sip.

"It's my personal blend. I get it at an organic tea shop in Waipouli. So, tell me what's going on," she said. "I can't believe the police had much to say after all these years."

"My father's name was Philip James Wilkerson, right?

"That's right. Well, technically, Philip James Wilkerson, the Third. He was named after his father and grandfather. I guess when he was little everyone called him *PJ'. He hated that."

"And what was his brother's name?"

"Robert. Phil said his brother was named for your mother's father."

"Robert Allen?"

"Yes, I think that's right." She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you ask?"

I pulled out the certificates I'd received from Vital Records and handed her the marriage certificate. She took it, gave it a quick glance and then dropped it on the table between us.

"Huh. Well, I guess now you know," she said.

"My mother was married to my uncle?"

"It was kind of a mess," she said.

"I'm sure. But I want to know."

"Okay, as you already know, Phil and your mother lived up at Taylor Camp in the mid-70's. Right after you were born he ran out of money and his father made him come home and go to college. He promised your mom he'd come back after he finished. He told me he wrote to her while he was gone but she never wrote back.

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Kaua'i Me A River Part 20 summary

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