by Frankie Bow
The baby’s crying finally petered out, and blessed quiet settled over the house.
“Please let me get you some coffee while you’re waiting,” I said.
De Silva looked at Medeiros as if for approval.
“Thanks, Professor,” Medeiros said. “Black, please.”
“I’ll have the same,” De Silva said.
As the three of us waited for Gloria, Junior started wailing again, and then settled down to satisfied glup-glup noises. A moment later, I heard Tiffany shriek. Then Davison mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
“Little baga wen’ bite my nipple off, is what.” Tiffany’s voice rang though the house.
I reflexively hugged myself and smiled weakly at the two officers. They were both examining their coffee cups with intense interest.
I made a mental note to ask Donnie about putting a soundproof door on the entrance to the hallway.
Gloria eventually appeared. Her face was freshly powdered, and her straight black hair was brushed to a high shine.
“Good morning, Officers.” Her smile faltered briefly when she caught sight of Andy De Silva. Medeiros braced his beefy hands on his knees and rose to a standing position. De Silva stood up and looked at the floor, shifting from one foot to the other. From the way Andy De Silva had asked after Gloria, I’d assumed the two were good friends. But now he looked uncomfortable, and Gloria seemed to be ignoring him. I didn’t want to stand and gawk, so I quietly retreated into the short hallway leading to the master bedroom.
“Ma’am, we just have a few questions for you,” I heard Medeiros say before I closed the bedroom door behind me.
Now I was stuck in my bedroom without my computer. I pulled out my little guitar, sat on the edge of the bed, and tuned it. Then I tried playing “Judy Butler Did It,” one of Phallus in Wonderland’s original compositions. I had some trouble with the F chord, but then I’ve always had trouble with the stupid F chord. I switched to “Song of the Subaltern,” which was much easier to play, as it only required the D-minor and A chords. When my finger pads had had enough, I put the guitar away and tried to take a nap. The house started shaking just as I was drifting off to sleep. Detective Medeiros and Officer De Silva were descending the front steps. Through the sliding glass door that faced the street, I watched the men climb into the police cruiser and drive away.
Gloria and Skye were sitting on the couch when I came back out. Skye was glowering; Gloria’s features were tense.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Skye opened his mouth to say something, when Davison popped out into the living room.
“Where you guys put the new diapers?”
“In the pantry.” Gloria stood up. “I’ll show you.”
People were putting diapers in my pantry now?
“They told us we had to cancel our flight back home,” Skye said to me.
“Are you going to do it?”
Gloria returned to join us. “No, we are not going to cancel anything. Skye, this is just harassment.”
“What’s harassment?” Davison called from inside the pantry.
“Nothing, baby.” Gloria squeezed Skye’s hand. “Don’t you worry about it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I couldn’t imagine how I could actually be of any use at the moment, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
While everyone else was busy with Junior, I grabbed my bag and slipped out through the kitchen to the carport. It was sunny but not yet unbearably hot, the quiet street fragrant with mowed grass and gardenia blossoms.
The Drive-Inn was emptier than I’d ever seen it. Only one service window was open, doing double duty as both ordering and pickup. Donnie must have seen me approach. He came out from the back with two Styrofoam cups of coffee.
“Taking a break?” he asked.
“I missed you so much, I couldn’t stay away. Do you have a few minutes to sit?”
Donnie smiled. “I guess it’s hard to get your work done with so many people in the house.”
“I’ll tell you what really makes it hard to concentrate.” I set my bag down on the nearest table and swung my leg over the bench. Donnie sat down opposite. “When the police stop by.”
“The police?”
I told him about the morning’s events.
“Why did they want to talk to Gloria?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hang around and eavesdrop. But from what I heard, they told Gloria and Skye to cancel their flight and stick around for a while.”
“After they went to all the trouble to arrange their flights back. It’s unfortunate.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Gloria is not planning to comply.”
Donnie sighed. “Gloria’s a good kid. But she’s so—stubborn. She gets it into her head she’s right about something, and she just charges ahead. She doesn’t compromise.”
I nodded. “She’s no pushover.”
“She needs to learn to go with the flow a little more.” Donnie placed his hand on mine. “Like you, Molly. I mean, you can be opinionated and stubborn too, just like Gloria, but when it comes to important things, like when you were negotiating for tenure, you’re. . .how do I put it?
“Refreshingly unprincipled?” I suggested.
“You know what I mean. I know you’ve given the police a hard time, but you’d never do it just to prove a point. I’m worried Gloria might be making things harder for herself. It wouldn’t be the first time. What did they want to talk to her about?”
“I don’t know. I assume it was about her deceased ex. I kind of wish I’d eavesdropped now.”
“I think you’re right. When you go around announcing that you want to kill someone, and then he ends up dead, you have to expect the police are going to want to talk to you.”
“Gloria said she wanted to kill Malufau?”
“Many times. Gloria doesn’t exactly keep her opinions to herself.”
He glanced around, checking to see if any customers required attention. None did.
“This has been a real learning experience for me, Donnie. Having your sister and her husband staying with us. I feel like I’m finding out a lot about your family.”
Donnie squeezed my hand. “I didn’t realize it was important to you. If you want to know something about me or my family, all you have to do is ask. Don’t look like that, Molly. What have I ever kept from you?”
“What have you ever—Donnie, I didn’t even know your middle name until we did our marriage license paperwork. And you still won’t tell me what kind of name ‘Muraco’ is.”
“Donnie Muraco was someone my father admired.” Donnie took his hand back and ran it through his neat salt-and-pepper hair.
“Was this Donnie Muraco, what, a teacher?”
“No.”
“A great-uncle or something?”
“He was a professional wrestler. My father didn’t know him personally.”
“Oh. Okay. Well there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Donnie laughed a little. “If you really thought there was nothing wrong with it, then you wouldn’t have to say it.”
“You know something, Donnie? I don’t think I told you this. I saw him.”
“Saw who?”
“I saw Malufau. When he was alive. He’s the guy I told you about. Who I thought was following us.”
“Are you telling me Iulani Malufau was following you? And you never thought to mention it? Molly, I can’t believe you were just accusing me of being secretive. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
“I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily. Anyway, in retrospect, he must have been following Davison, not me. I’m not defending him or anything, but think about it. If you were in his situation, what would you do? You get shipped off to prison, and the last time you’ve seen your son, I mean your biological son, is when he’s a toddler. Obviously, Davison’s your son, you’re the one who raised him, but that wouldn’t stop Malufau
from wanting to see him.”
“If I were Malufau?” Donnie looked thoughtful. “Maybe I’d want to get revenge on whoever I thought was responsible for putting me in prison.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense, too.”
Donnie rested his forehead in his hands.
“I don’t know what to think about all of this, Molly.”
“Well, as long as I’m throwing all this stuff at you, let me give you one more thing to think about.”
“What?”
“Gloria left her flight itinerary open on my computer. I saw it.”
“And?”
“And you know how she showed up at our house last Tuesday? The nineteenth? Right after her husband came to us frantically looking for her? Well, according to her itinerary, she arrived in Mahina on the seventeenth. Two days earlier.”
Donnie looked stricken. “Do the police know this?”
“I have no idea what the police know. I didn’t say anything to them, and I don’t know if they’ve already figured it out. Do you have any idea what Gloria was doing between the time she arrived in Mahina and the time she showed up at our door?”
“What are you saying, Molly? Do you think she flew into Mahina, killed her ex, and then showed up at our house like nothing happened?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t even see how it would be possible. I mean, Malufau, he was a big guy, and he looked really fit. I mean, not that I was checking out his physique or anything. . .let me start over. What I’m saying is Gloria couldn’t have pushed a big guy like him out of a second-story window, at least not without some help. I don’t know what’s going on here. I just wanted to tell you what I know. Donnie, do you think Gloria killed Iulani Malufau?”
“What?”
“Do you think Gloria did it? Why else would the police have told her not to leave town?”
Donnie shook his head. “Molly, I don’t know what you expect me to do about any of this.”
“I don’t expect you to do anything. I’m just—should I not have said anything?”
“No, of course not. It’s not what I’m saying. It’s just—Gloria’s worked really hard to build a life for herself. She’s had some setbacks. I don’t want her to lose everything because of some bad choices she made when she was young.”
“No, of course not.”
“How did Malufau find Davison in the first place?” Donnie asked. “How could he know Davison would be back in Mahina, and not at his college?”
“Probably social media. You know how people post things like, ‘Here’s a picture of me about to eat my Donnie’s Drive-Inn Sumo Saimin Bowl.’ ‘Here we are at Galimba’s Bargain Boyz buying a trampoline.’ People broadcast everything they do. There’s no challenge to being a stalker anymore. Hey, speaking of which, did you take a look at the social media plan I sketched out for the Drive-Inn?”
“No.” Donnie ran his fingers through his hair again. “Not yet. Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
Busy was exactly what the Drive-Inn wasn’t. But Donnie had his own way of doing things, and badgering him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. His sister Gloria wasn’t the only one who was stubborn.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Donnie didn’t bring home any big foil trays from the Drive-Inn that evening. Instead, to my delight, he stopped by Mizuno Mart and bought ingredients to make vegetarian pasta from scratch. As he worked his magic in the kitchen, I sat at my computer and sorted through my email.
Andy De Silva had sent back another iteration of his thank-you letter to my administration. Rather than simply sign his name to my template, De Silva had crafted an entire second draft in his own voice.
“Why does De Silva think it’s a good idea to tell my administration I’m not like a ‘real’ professor? It’s exactly what I’m constantly fighting against. Even my students think a ‘real’ professor means you have to be an old silverback like Hanson Harrison. This is not helping.”
“De Silva probably meant it as a compliment,” Donnie called out over the sizzle of garlic in olive oil. “He’s saying you’re down to earth and approachable.”
“It would’ve been a lot more helpful if he’d said I was competent and effective. At least he took out the part about me being ‘cute.’”
“Does it matter? You have tenure now. Who do you need to impress?”
I stood up and went to the kitchen counter.
“Yes, I am a tenured associate professor now. But I have one more promotion to go. If I can keep my students happy and get some good pubs other people cite, I might get promoted to a full professorship.”
“Do you have to get promoted again? What about—”
“Please don’t say Rodge Cowper. Rodge is, in Emma’s words, a complete waste of carbon. I do not want to be like Rodge Cowper. Also, I’ll get a raise when I’m promoted to full.”
“How much of a raise?”
“I think it’s six percent.”
“Just a minute.” He turned the pan down to simmer, disappeared into the bedroom and returned with his calculator.
“How many summers until your next promotion?”
“Between five and seven. Donnie, what are you doing?”
Donnie pulled out the bar stool next to mine and sat down.
“Let’s say six summers, and then if you get your promotion, how many years until retirement?”
“Donnie, what is your point?”
“Let’s say twenty-five. Assume your promotion to full professor gets you an extra six percent for each of the twenty five years until you retire. Present value. . .assume inflation. . .have you worked this out already?”
“Worked what out? What are you doing?”
He pushed some buttons and raised his eyebrows at the result.
“If you’re working full time over your unpaid summers hoping for a six percent pay bump six years from now, your hourly salary works out to a little less than what I pay my lowest-paid employee. If you get the promotion. If you put all this work in and don’t get the promotion, then of course, your summer pay is zero.”
“It can’t be. Are you saying I could work every summer as a fry cook and end up with as much money in the end as if I get the raise and promotion six years from now?”
“Not every summer. Just the next six summers, and then you’re done. Actually as a fry cook, you’d make more. At least at the Drive-Inn.”
“Are you sure?”
Donnie handed the calculator to me. I waved him off.
“Okay. I believe you. If I were the kind of person who sat down and figured out these cost-benefit things in advance, I probably wouldn’t have gotten myself a Ph.D. in literature and creative writing in the first place.”
Donnie poised his fingers over the keys.
“And no, please don’t calculate what that cost me.”
That evening we dined on penne with roasted mushrooms, zucchini, and eggplant. I was thrilled to be eating Donnie’s cooking again instead of Drive-Inn food. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a decent mood. Skye and Gloria were much less grumpy than they’d been right after the police left. Davison and Tiffany didn’t seem to realize anything out of the ordinary had happened at all.
“This has been an amazing trip.” Skye speared a chewy forkful of pasta. “I almost wish we didn’t have to go back so soon. Mahina is such a beautiful, special place.”
Go back so soon? So Skye and Gloria were sticking with their original travel plans. Maybe they’d worked out something with the police, and everything was going to be fine. I did so want to believe it.
“Well it was nice to have both of you to visit.” I beamed at my houseguests. “And Donnie, this pasta is amazingly good.” It was. The vegetables were tender, the marinara sauce piquant.
“Glad it’s acceptable.” He gave me a little smile.
“Aw, I’m gonna miss Junior,” Gloria said. “Tiffany, what’s with your shirt?”
Tiffany wore an oversized black t-shirt with a green marijuana leaf printed on the front
. Junior’s chubby legs stuck out from under the shirt, kicking with delight.
“Not mines. It’s Davison’s. I hadda find something big to cover the baby when he ate.”
I remembered seeing the shirt in Davison’s drawer when I’d searched his room for my missing necklace and earrings.
“Eh, no big deal, Aunty.” Davison’s mouth was full of pasta. “Gonna be totally legal here soon, guarantee.”
“I think you’re right, Davison,” Skye said. “And Hawai`i has a great reputation for high quality product. If your tourism people are smart, they’ll jump on it.”
A knock on the front door made us all turn and look. Donnie got up to answer it, and Ka`imi Medeiros walked in without waiting for an invitation. Right behind Medeiros was a uniformed officer I didn’t recognize.
We all laid our silverware down and stood up. All except Tiffany, who was feeding Junior. She glowered at the two officers.
“Gloria Kealoha,” Medeiros said. “AKA Gloria Farrah Bysentenyl Gonsalves. You are under arrest for the murder of Iulani Malufau. You have the right—”
“I know my rights.” Gloria stood up and pushed her chair back in rather harder than necessary. She strode out between the two policemen, radiating hostility. Skye and Donnie followed them. I ran to the front window and watched the police cruiser take off slowly down the street. Donnie’s SUV pulled out and followed it.
Davison, Tiffany, and Junior disappeared into their room, leaving me to clear the dishes by myself.
I was asleep when Donnie returned from the police station. In the light slanting from the bathroom, I watched him peel off his Donnie’s Drive Inn polo shirt and fold it.
“Donnie, what happened?”
“Molly. You’re awake. Fortunately we made bail.”
“Was it a lot? Did we pay for it?”
“Yes, it was a lot. No, we didn’t pay it. Skye’s parents did. They’re getting an attorney for Gloria. Skye and Gloria had to cancel their flight out of Mahina, of course. They’ll be staying here for a few more days.”
He disappeared into the walk-in closet and switched on the light.
