Banana Split

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Bets was too polite to say no. “Um, sure.” She rinsed her hands in the sink before coming around the counter. Sadie followed her, which Bets hadn’t expected. She looked over her shoulder, more nervous than ever but didn’t tell Sadie to back off.

  When Bets reached the desk, she pulled open the second drawer from the top. It was perfectly organized with envelopes and a few boxes of cards. Bets reached for a box of thank-you cards, then hesitated and reached for a box of stationery instead.

  “Those cards would be perfect,” Sadie said, ignoring the stationery Bets handed her and stepping close enough grab the box of note cards Bets had avoided. They weren’t purple, though, and Sadie dug through the drawer, moving around the perfectly organized contents.

  “What are you doing?” Bets said, stepping back. Her voice was panicked, not angry. “I don’t like you going through my things.” She reached past Sadie and grabbed the box of note cards Sadie still held.

  Sadie immediately grabbed the box back despite the fact that the clear cover showed that the cards were light yellow with bumblebees spelling out “Thank you.” Bets’s eyes went wide, and she tightened her fingers on the box. Her action only spurred Sadie’s own determination, and she grabbed the box with both hands, pulling it away from Bets.

  As soon as she had full possession, she ran for the kitchen counter, ripping off the top of the box.

  Bets was right behind her. “Give me that!” she said, sharp and scared.

  Sadie didn’t bother wasting the energy to explain herself. She grabbed the first few note cards and pulled them out of the box, dropping them behind her.

  Bets inhaled sharply. “What are you—”

  And then Sadie saw a corner of lavender stashed below the yellow. She pulled out the last of the bumblebee cards just as Bets grabbed her hair and yanked. Sadie stumbled backward, her scalp on fire. The contents of the box flew upward and scattered through the air, some purple, some yellow.

  Sadie reached behind her and grabbed Bets’s wrist, trying to unlock her grip. She didn’t let go, forcing Sadie to find the pressure point on the back of the hand, between the thumb and index finger. She pushed it with her own thumb until Bets screamed and let go.

  Sadie moved her hand up to Bets’s wrist as she turned, twisting the arm as she marched her backward until Bets hit up against the desk, knocking one of the picture frames to the ground in the process.

  Bets looked from her arm to Sadie’s face, shocked and afraid.

  “What have you done?” Sadie asked. She hadn’t wanted things to get violent, but she needed answers.

  “You’re crazy,” Bets said. “I want you out of my house.”

  “I’m happy to leave as soon as you tell me what you’ve done.”

  “I haven’t done anything, I—”

  “You wrote that note to Charlie.”

  Bets’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth but didn’t speak.

  “I think you were trying to comfort him somehow,” Sadie said, offering the only olive branch she was prepared to give this troubled woman. “But you wouldn’t have sent it if you didn’t already know Noelani was dead.”

  The expression on Bets’s face melted into shock again. She pushed against Sadie, and Sadie let her go, confident in her ability to reestablish control if she needed to. Bets stumbled a few feet away, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

  Sadie moved to the center of the room, blocking the door in case Bets was considering an exit. “You must have panicked when her body was found,” Sadie said. “Which means you expected that it wouldn’t be.”

  “You’re crazy,” Bets said, her eyes frantic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Sadie put her hands on her hips. “The police will track the stationery back to you. They’ll make the same connection I made between the flower on the envelope and the flower on the mural in the church. They’ll also confirm that it’s not Noelani’s handwriting. Even if it was similar enough to fool Charlie, it won’t fool the police.”

  Bets covered her ears and clenched her eyes closed as though trying to block out Sadie’s words. Sadie just spoke louder. “You thought she was having an affair with your husband. She was threatening your marriage and—”

  “Stop,” Bets said, her voice low and husky. “Stop it.”

  “I can’t,” Sadie said, lowering her own voice and resisting the urge to accuse Bets of murder right then and there. “Because it’s the truth, and the truth can’t hide forever. You argued with her earlier in the week. What were you arguing about?”

  Bets hesitated, then folded her arms across her stomach and looked at the ground. “Darryl,” she said. “She was meeting with him more and more often. Jim told me Darryl had come to her room at night, and I . . . I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “You told her you’d get in her way if she didn’t get out of yours. How would you get in her way?”

  Bets let out a breath, then inhaled as though pulling in strength to continue. “I told her if she didn’t leave, I’d tell DHS that her community involvement was a sham and that I knew she was dealing drugs. I told her she’d be arrested, and she would have been.”

  “You put the marijuana in her room?”

  Bets nodded slowly. “Where she wouldn’t find it, but the police would if I chose to call them.”

  “And what did she say to your threat?”

  “She said I was crazy.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not crazy,” she said, too defensive. “I’m not! I just . . . I know how easy it is for a man’s heart to wander, and she was a stripper! Darryl was . . . he was with her so much. I just . . . I just . . .”

  “Did you talk to her again after that? After you threatened her?”

  Bets looked at the ground but said nothing.

  “You knew she was dead when you sent that note to Charlie.”

  A new voice spoke up. “What note?”

  Chapter 41

  Sadie and Bets both turned to look at Pastor Darryl standing in the doorway. Gayle stood behind him and caught Sadie’s eyes, shrugging like she didn’t know what to do. Judging from the ashen look on Pastor Darryl’s face, he’d overheard enough to know the seriousness of the conversation.

  “What note, Bets? What is she talking about?”

  Gayle cleared her throat and held the note over Pastor Darryl’s shoulder. He looked at it for a moment before taking it.

  “Darryl,” Bets pleaded, her voice shaking.

  He removed the note from the envelope and read it. Then he looked up at his wife, his eyes confused. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking between his wife and Sadie. “What’s going on?”

  “Bets sent that note to Charlie after Noelani died but before her body was found,” Sadie said.

  “I didn’t do anything to her,” Bets said, pleading. “I swear.”

  “Then how did you know she was dead?” Sadie said, drawing Bets’s frightened gaze back to her. “You wouldn’t have given that letter to Charlie unless you knew his mother wouldn’t be coming back to challenge it.” She paused. “And I heard what you said to Jim this morning—that you wanted Noelani to go away. I believe your actual words were ‘What does it take?’”

  Bets’s face drained of even more color, and she swallowed.

  “What is she talking about, Bets?” Pastor Darryl said, but he didn’t move toward her. The distance he maintained did not go unnoticed by anyone.

  “I . . . I saw what happened,” Bets admitted, tears running down her cheeks as she looked at the floor again. “And I knew Charlie would be devastated. I just wanted to help him, that’s all. I thought if he had that letter he could . . . grow into understanding that she wasn’t coming back and he’d know that she said good-bye.”

  “What happened?” Sadie asked again. “What happened the night she disappeared?”

  “She called from the motel,” Bets said, her voice a whisper. She wiped her fingers across her cheeks.

  Darryl cut in. “You told the police you weren’t
there when she called—”

  “Please, let her talk,” Sadie interrupted, giving him a hard look. He closed his mouth, and Sadie nodded for Bets to continue.

  She wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone as she spoke again. “She started leaving a message for Darryl, asking him where Ho’oka Beach was.”

  “Ho’oka?” Darryl repeated.

  Sadie shook her head at him; he lowered his chin as a sign he wouldn’t interrupt again.

  “She wanted directions?” Sadie asked Bets.

  “Yes. I picked up the phone before she finished and asked her why she was going to Ho’oka. Darryl and I . . . we used to go out there and watch the stars at night. It’s very . . . private.”

  “Where was Darryl?” Sadie asked, tensing herself for what might come next.

  “In Kapaa, not far from Ho’oka.”

  When she didn’t continue, Sadie turned to Darryl for an explanation.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m part of a group of local churches who pray together and plan community projects. We meet once a month, and I always forward my cell phone calls to the house so I’m not interrupted. Bets knows where to reach me if there’s an emergency, but she said she didn’t get the call and there was no message.”

  “So you never knew Bets spoke to Noelani that night?” Sadie clarified.

  Pastor Darryl shook his head.

  Sadie turned back to Bets. “You gave Noelani directions?”

  Bets nodded. “She was upset, and I thought . . . I thought she was taunting me by having me tell her how to get there, but I told her anyway.”

  So she could catch them, Sadie thought to herself.

  Bets crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from her husband as she spoke. “Darryl warned me that his meeting would go late, and his cell phone was forwarded so I couldn’t call and check up on him. I just . . . I just had to know.”

  “You followed her all the way to the beach?”

  “Almost,” Bets said. “She stopped at a convenience store and bought something. I thought maybe she’d go back to the motel—maybe I was overreacting. But then she got back on the highway, heading toward Kapaa. I turned off my lights when she turned onto Paapa Road and pulled off before the final turn into the beach parking lot. I walked the rest of the way. She was already heading toward a truck that had its lights on, pointed at a boat in the water.” Bets closed her eyes and ducked her chin. “She was yelling at someone standing on the dock, saying something about Charlie and going to the police. I didn’t understand what she could mean. When she turned back toward her car, a man tackled her from behind, throwing her to the ground. Another man jumped out of the boat.”

  “There were two of them?” Sadie asked.

  Bets nodded.

  “Then what happened?” Sadie asked in almost a whisper to keep her voice from cracking as the scene took shape in her mind.

  “I couldn’t have helped her,” Bets said, as though justifying her inaction. She lifted her chin and sent a pleading look toward her husband. “I was scared for my life. I ducked behind some trees, but I could hear them fighting. Noelani was yelling at them. One of the men told her shut up and . . . there was a thud . . . and she did.” She paused, and everyone in the room was silent. “When I dared look again, the two men were carrying her to the pier. She wasn’t moving. . . . I watched them put her into the boat.”

  “You wouldn’t have written that note unless you knew, without a doubt, that she wasn’t coming back.”

  “I knew she wasn’t coming back,” Bets whispered. “Only one man took the boat out. The other stayed by the truck, smoking and talking on his phone. I was afraid to leave, afraid he’d hear me. The boat came back about an hour later, and Noelani wasn’t in it. The man in the boat threw some bags onto the dock. The man by the truck headed toward them and yelled, ‘You got rid of her?’ The man in the boat said she was gone.

  “As soon as I felt I could get away without them hearing me, I went back to my car and came home. Darryl came home within twenty minutes.” She paused. “When almost a week went by without a word, I sent Charlie the note. I thought it would help him feel better when she never returned. I thought . . . it was the right thing to do. I never imagined they’d find her.”

  Sadie had to take a deep breath to remain calm. She wanted to ask Bets why she hadn’t called the police. She wanted to ask how she could be so callous in regard to Noelani’s death but so compassionate toward Charlie’s loss. But those were the types of questions that would shut down the conversation, and Sadie needed to keep Bets talking.

  “Do you know who the men were?”

  Bets shook her head. “I didn’t get a close enough look. The only lights were the headlights from the truck and the lights on the boat. I didn’t recognize their voices either. I don’t think I know them.”

  “What about the truck or the boat? Do you remember anything about them?”

  Bets looked at the ground. “The truck was red, a two-door something or other. The boat, though, had a name on the back. Serenity, I think. It was written in silver lettering along the back and reflected the headlights of the truck.”

  “Serenity?” Sadie repeated, sickened by the irony.

  Bets looked up at Sadie. “Maybe I should have done something,” she said as though just now realizing it. She flicked a look at Darryl. “Even though she was in love with my husband, maybe I should have at least tried to help her.”

  Sadie shook her head, struggling to even look at the woman who had let another woman die, perhaps in part because she didn’t want Noelani around. “She wasn’t in love with your husband,” Sadie said. “He was counseling her.”

  Bets shook her head. “No. It was more than that.” Her voice shook, and she seemed to be pointedly avoiding her husband’s eyes, which, if Sadie weren’t mistaken, were wet.

  “Jim wanted you to think it was more than that,” Sadie said. “But he had his own reasons.”

  Bets’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head, her chin trembling. “What do you mean? What reasons other than the truth?”

  “Melissa,” Pastor Darryl said.

  Bets turned her head in his direction but wouldn’t look at him.

  “Jim’s ex-wife?” Sadie wanted to make sure they were talking about the same person. Gayle still stood behind Pastor Darryl. Intentionally or not, she was blocking the door.

  “He’s never forgiven me,” Pastor Darryl said.

  “Why does he hold you responsible?” Sadie asked, remembering what Shawn had told her over the phone and knowing that Bets needed to hear it too.

  “We were all friends,” Pastor Darryl said, his gaze cutting between Sadie and his wife. “We all worked with the outreach program together.”

  “Until you and Melissa started getting so close,” Bets said, finally looking up at him, though hesitantly.

  “She came to me for help,” Pastor Darryl defended. “She needed advice.”

  “Did you tell Melissa to leave Jim?” Sadie asked.

  Pastor Darryl shook his head. “I would never tell anyone what to do,” he said. “Only how to seek direction from their Sovereign. Melissa was unhappy, and in time, she felt she received the answer to leave Jim and remove her boys from a disintegrating relationship. Jim was a good dad to those kids, but he wasn’t always a good husband. You know that, Bets. You heard them.”

  “Heard them?” Sadie asked.

  “They fought,” Pastor Darryl said. “A lot.”

  “It was none of our business,” Bets said, a hint of anger in her tone.

  “She came to me,” Pastor Darryl said. “In my capacity as her pastor. I counseled and prayed with her. I encouraged her to seek out professional counseling or to at least let me talk to Jim so he would understand how serious she was about needing changes. She said she felt God wanted her to simply leave, to end the marriage that she felt was abusive. She was afraid to try to make things better, afraid he would hurt her, and so when she made her decision, she left immediately.
I know it was devastating for Jim. I know it broke his heart to lose his family, but for him to blame me is his way of avoiding his own responsibility.”

  “You could have warned him,” Bets said. “You were his friend.”

  “And I was Melissa’s pastor,” Darryl said, shaking his head. “I’ve questioned my own actions a hundred times and asked God to confirm I did the right thing. He has answered me. I did the only thing I could do. Melissa came to me for counsel. Jim never did anything to fix things. They each chose the paths they took, not me.”

  “Was your relationship with Melissa anything other than that of a pastor?” Sadie asked because she felt she had to.