by Hester Young
“I don’t think Naomi planned to kill Lise exactly,” Rae says. “But, back to the wall, what else is she going to do? My guess is, Lise felt bad about dumping Elijah that night. So she goes back to Wakea Ranch later, hoping to smooth things over. Only instead of finding Elijah in those woods, she runs into Naomi. They have words, and . . . Naomi realizes she’s cornered. She’s got to get rid of Lise. It’s the only way to protect her secret.”
Rae relates this tale like someone spinning ghost stories at a campfire, and if David and I respond skeptically, Thom seems spellbound.
“You think Elijah knows what his mother did?” he asks.
“No,” Rae tells him. “Elijah’s still out there in the woods every night, signaling to Lise. He really believes she might come back to him.”
“You should talk to the police,” Thom says breathlessly. “Tell them what you know.”
I glare at Rae. “We don’t know anything. This is all conjecture. We have no proof.”
“What kind of proof would they need?” Thom asks. “I mean, short of a body . . .”
“A weapon,” Rae suggests. “Naomi isn’t a big woman. Someone should go over to her place and check out her tool shed.”
“Oh my God, you’re right.” Thom covers his mouth, his imagination spinning out of control. I wince. He and Rae are a bad influence on each other. “There could be some blood-crusted thing hanging from a hook in the barn and nobody would be the wiser.”
“Stop it!” David’s legs hit the table as he jumps to his feet, knocking over his glass of water. “These are real people. Lise Nakagawa is a real person, and all this speculation . . . it’s not right, Thom! She was just a kid. Have some respect.”
Thom and Rae exchange guilty glances as David flees the room. Heaving a sigh, Thom hurries off to smooth things over with his husband. A puddle of water gathers on the wooden floor as the contents of David’s glass flow steadily from the table.
“I wasn’t trying to be a jerk,” Rae says, chastened.
“I know.”
“I really want to know what happened to Lise.”
“Me, too.” I grab a handful of napkins and mop up David’s spill. “But it’s different for us, isn’t it? We get to fly in and out, leave tomorrow night, and never think about these people again. With David and Thom . . . this is their home. They have to see the Nakagawas around town. They have to watch Raph Yoon grow up. Whatever damage we do, they get left with it.”
“Damage? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”
“I don’t know. I just broke up a family.”
“Naomi Yoon does not need your pity.”
“Not her. The kids.” I begin dismantling an egg roll with my fork, mindlessly raking bits of cabbage across my plate. “Adam will have to prove paternity in order to get a shot at custody, and once he does . . . Naomi’ll end up in jail, there’s no way around that. And Adam will feel responsible.”
“Charlie. In this situation, you had no choice.”
“I know. I’m just saying . . . I understand why Lise didn’t tell anybody. Why she didn’t want to be the one.”
“Do you think Jocelyn knows?”
I look up. “About Naomi and Adam? Why would she?”
“Lise could’ve told her, duh.”
I contemplate that possibility for a moment. “No. No, I don’t think she knew. Jocelyn’s a problem solver. She would’ve tried to solve the problem. She would’ve . . . hired a lawyer or lodged a complaint with Child Welfare. After all the rumors about Naomi and Victor, Jocelyn wouldn’t miss a chance to take Naomi down and clear her father’s name. I think it’s safe to say Lise was on her own with that one.”
I let that sit a minute: Lise, supposedly so dependent on her sister, weighing the fate of her boyfriend’s incestuous family. Trying to get information from Marvel without tipping her hand. Listening to people joke about her father’s supposed love child with Naomi when she knew the truth.
Jocelyn was wrong about her sister, I decide. Lise was not without a backbone. Perhaps that was why she broke up with Elijah: she was freeing herself from the burden of bearing his secrets, giving herself the space she needed to report it.
And what will happen to Elijah now? He clearly wants to connect with the outer world, but how will he ever learn to adjust when people still view him with such suspicion? If he’s thrown into foster care, they’ll make him attend public schools for the first time in his life. I’ve seen the way teenagers here treat him. They’ll crucify the poor kid. And who does he have standing in his corner? Not one friend. Not one. This is the mess I’m leaving in my wake, and it’s not right.
I push my chair back from the table. “I need to talk to Kai.”
“Kai?” Rae echoes. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He’s the closest thing Elijah had to a friend,” I say. “And Kai turned on him. Kai needs to know that whatever happened to Lise, Elijah wasn’t responsible.” Kai strikes me as a decent person, and he just might have enough social capital to call off the Free Thought guys who have been harassing Elijah. Maybe Kai will take pity on the kid, let him tag along from time to time. Elijah needs any social support he can get.
Rae arches an eyebrow, and I can tell she disapproves. “You don’t think that’s getting a little overinvolved?”
I shrug. “It’s a little late to worry about that. And honestly, Rae . . . if I can’t leave things better than I found them . . . what good am I?”
* * *
• • •
KAI WASN’T LYING when he said his house was tiny. Tucked away in a lush patch of rain forest, the trailer he, Brayden, and Sage all occupy can’t be more than three hundred square feet. I’ve seen these little eco houses on HGTV before and always thought them charming, perfect for a no-frills couple. They are decidedly less perfect, however, for a teenage boy living with his mother and her boyfriend. I can understand why Kai would spend as little time as possible at home.
The front door is dark when I show up, but I can see a light on inside the home. Beside me, a beat-up pickup truck and an old red Corolla occupy the driveway. Judging from the Free Thought bumper sticker and surfboard decals on the Corolla, the vehicle belongs to Kai. A Tibetan prayer flag hangs from one of the trees, its edges tattered. Large purple snails dot the moist ground.
I wonder if Sage cultivates her marijuana crop on this property or elsewhere. Situated at the end of a long and winding drive through barely tamed trees, the land is certainly private enough. Without Thom’s precise directions, I would’ve missed the place entirely.
I knock on the door and wait for a response. I’m about to knock a second time when a flash of movement in the lower corner of the door frame catches my eye. A fat centipede, about eight inches long with a hard, shiny body, scuttles into the shadows. I let out a startled shriek just as a woman opens the door.
“Can I help you?” A middle-aged brunette in a red tank top blocks my entrance to the trailer.
I back away from the centipede, shuddering, eyes still fixed on it. “Hi,” I manage. “Are you Sage?”
“Depends on who’s asking.”
“Charlotte. My name’s Charlotte. I’m staying over at Koa House.” I point at the creature, which has begun creeping up the wall. “Um . . . there’s a . . . thing . . .”
The centipede proceeds up the door frame, just inches from the woman’s bare knee. Its head and legs are red, but the many segments of its body are black and seem to ripple when it moves.
Sage glances down at it, unconcerned. “Charlotte, huh? Brayden told me about you.” She reaches into the house behind her and grabs a wooden dowel rod. After poking at the creature a few times, she ignores all the writhing legs and lifts him up with the rod. I back quickly out of her path as she steps barefoot onto the stoop and chucks the centipede into the bushes.
“You stay away from my
house, brother,” she tells it.
Skin still crawling from the unwelcome encounter, I take a deep breath and finally get a good look at Sage. Kai’s mother is nothing like I’ve pictured. The much younger boyfriend threw me off, way off. I imagined her bleach blond with a boob job, Malibu Barbie turned drug dealer, but instead of a spray tan, Sage has her son’s clear blue eyes and freckles. She wears no makeup, and her crow’s feet and strong shoulders project an earthy sturdiness.
“So, Charlotte,” she says, “what brings you by?”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk to Kai—is he home?”
“He’s resting out back on the lanai.” She steps away from the door. “You can come in, though.”
I follow her through six feet of kitchen, past the ladder to an overhead loft, into an area covered with cushions of all sizes, shapes, and colors. It looks like a small hookah den and the overpowering smell of incense gives me a headache, but Sage sits down cross-legged and waits for me to do the same. She’s in no hurry to get Kai, and I can’t fathom what she’s after until she leans forward and says a little too casually, “So, Koa House. A lot going on with the neighbors, huh?”
I grimace. Apparently Thom’s not the only one with connections. “What did you hear?”
“I heard Naomi lost her boys today.”
“That’s already making the rounds, huh?”
“My friend Lani fosters,” Sage explains. “A caseworker just called her asking if she’ll take Elijah and Raphael. Musta been big, if the county police bothered getting off their asses.”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s sort of why I’m here. Elijah’s in a hard spot right now. He could really use a buddy.”
“A buddy? And you thought Kai’s the guy?” Her eyes crinkle with amusement, and I realize how foolish I sound, like I’m trying to arrange a playdate for a pair of toddlers.
“They used to hang out, right? I don’t know who else to ask.”
“Kai thinks that kid killed Lise Nakagawa,” Sage says. “He’s not gonna be his friend.”
“Kai’s wrong.”
“Yeah, I know.” She raises her right elbow above her head and grasps it with her left hand, stretching. She hasn’t shaved her armpits in a while. “I’ve met Elijah plenty of times, saw him and Lise, how they were together. I told Kai, Elijah Yoon is a cryer and a begger, not a killer. If that girl dumped him, he’d be following her around for weeks, asking for a second chance. He wouldn’t just snap on her.”
I don’t know what to make of this woman. With her freckles and bright eyes, she looks like an aging Girl Next Door, the type to bring you fresh tomatoes from her garden and share her special recipe for zucchini bread. Beneath the pleasant exterior, however, I sense someone who trades in information.
“Um . . . could I talk to Kai?”
“He’s napping.” Sage raises her left elbow, switching up the stretch. “I wouldn’t wake him. His asthma’s been acting up today. He could use some sleep.”
I remember Kai arguing about the medical benefits of marijuana for asthmatics and wonder if he’s lazing around, high on his mother’s own product.
“My daughter has asthma,” I say, trying to form a connection with Sage, however tenuous. “She starts wheezing every time she gets a cold, and we have to break out the nebulizer. What triggers Kai?”
“Oh, different stuff. If he gets really emotional. If he exercises too much. If the wind is blowing wrong and the vog gets bad.” She crosses her legs and assumes the lotus position, uninterested in discussing her son’s health issues. “How’d the police end up at the Yoons’? Did you call them? Is that why you’re feeling so guilty about Elijah?”
The woman is smart, I’ll give her that.
“Adam Yoon came to me for help. I did the best I could.”
“Adam, huh? Good for him. I’ve been wondering when things would finally come out about him and his mom. She’s a sick little puppy, Naomi. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen when she started in on him.”
My mouth forms a ring of disbelief. “Who . . . where did you hear that?”
Sage laughs darkly. “I’ve got a pair of eyes, don’t I? And I’ve dated an abusive dickhead or two. Naomi checks off all the boxes. Won’t let anyone near her precious baby. Elijah, she doesn’t give a shit what he does. But Adam? She guards him like the Holy fuckin’ Grail. I know a jealous girlfriend when I see one.”
“You never told anyone?” Whatever goodwill I might’ve felt for this woman evaporates. “For six years?”
“Not my business.” She shrugs. “The way she grew up, Naomi probably thought that shit was normal. Her daddy got busted twenty years ago for messing with underage girls on their little commune. Wouldn’t be surprised if she was one of them.” Sage leans back on her elbows. “It’s a shame her husband died. She might’ve been okay if he’d stuck around. Pete was a good guy.”
“Did Kai know about this? Do you think he had any idea what was going on in that house?”
“Nah. Kai’s naïve. He doesn’t think about stuff like that.” Her abrupt laugh sounds like a hiccup. “Kid acts like he’s had it so rough, living here with me and Brayden, but let me tell you, he’s got it pretty good. Goes to a nice private school, has his own car, never gone hungry. Not a lot of kids in Puna can say that.”
Providing for Kai didn’t come free, I know. Whatever I might think of Sage, she loves her son. “You must’ve made a lot of sacrifices for him.”
“He’s my kid,” Sage says. “That’s what you do.”
Having given up the goods on the Yoon family, I figure I should at least get a little something back. “You said you knew Lise. She came by sometimes, right?”
“Sometimes. You still writing that article on her dad?” Sage smiles, and I can’t tell if she heard about my blowup with Victor or not.
“Possibly,” I say. “What did you think of Lise?”
“Sweet kid,” she pronounces, “still trying to figure out who she wanted to be. Used to read tarot cards for me. She wasn’t like her tight-ass sister, anyway.” Sage makes a face. “I keep hoping Kai will grow a pair and dump Jocelyn. He had a thing for Lise, I could tell. And they would’ve been good together. But Kai’s a snob. He sold out for Little Miss Stanford.”
“You think he regrets that?”
“Who knows? He’s young. Can’t tell the difference between a high price tag and a quality product.”
I bristle at this description of the sisters. “I don’t know. It sounds like Lise had a lot of personal issues. She might not have been a picnic, either.”
“Who said love was supposed to be a picnic?” Sage demands. “It’s a growth opportunity. A soul lesson. Anyway, Kai’s path is his to choose, not mine.” She eyes me for a second, as if deciding whether or not to tell me something. “I saw her, you know. The night she went missing.”
“Lise?”
“Yeah. Sometime after nine o’clock that night, before she ran into Elijah. She was in town, coming out of Marvel’s place.”
“The crystal shop?”
“Ono Place. That restaurant she and Marvel were trying to get off the ground.” Sage plays with the tassel on one of her pillows. “I was picking up a little something from Brayden and Kai over at Free Thought, and I saw Lise walk out. She seemed . . . I dunno. Spooked, maybe? In her own world. I yelled to her, offered her a ride. She just kinda stood there, all deer in the headlights.”
“Did she say anything?”
“Nope. Elijah showed up then and insisted on walking her home. I don’t think she was expecting him—she didn’t look happy to see him. But off they went. Last I ever saw her.”
“Wow.” I pause. “Do the police know about this?” I’ve never heard any mention of Marvel’s restaurant in connection with Lise’s movements that night.
Sage waves me off. “No point putting myself on the cops’ radar if I
don’t have to. Elijah said he met up with her in the square at nine thirty, that she was wearing a black sweatshirt with a skull on it. All that’s true. I’ve got nothing to add.”
I don’t answer. Don’t name all the things that her sighting could, in fact, change. I want her to keep talking.
“Looking back, I should’ve offered them both a ride home,” Sage says. “But I didn’t. I just thought they’d want to be alone.”
“It isn’t your fault, Sage. Whatever happened, it isn’t your fault.”
“No, I know that.” She hesitates. “Still. It was too dark for a girl to be out walking alone.”
“She wasn’t alone. She was with Elijah. You had every reason to believe she’d be safe.”
“Yeah.”
I adjust the cushion I’m sitting on and let her wrestle with that for a beat. “Any idea what Lise was doing at the restaurant?”
“Helping Marvel, probably. They’d been getting some food shipments. Back then, Marvel was still figuring she could get her permits sorted and open in a week or two.”
“But Marvel didn’t see Lise that night. I mean, as far as I know . . .”
For once, Sage doesn’t have the answer. “Maybe Lise was working alone? She was really excited about Ono Place. She was going to be a manager, get the hell away from her parents. It was her ticket out.”
I frown. “I don’t think the police know she was there that night. You should tell them. It could be important.”
Sage brushes off the suggestion. “I don’t see how it matters,” she says. “I wasn’t the last one to see her alive. Elijah was. Last thing I need is cops trying to work out all my movements that night. I had stuff going on.” She gives me a long, hard look, and I know better than to ask about her business arrangements.
“Right, of course. You’re a busy woman.”
She straightens up, and I can see that I’ve worn out my welcome, that I’m being dismissed. “I’ll tell Kai you stopped by, all right? Good to hear about the Yoon kids.”
