My Kind of Town
>>Honolulu Soap Co. Her story and history
Lily jumped when her private phone -- the one carved to look like a long-tailed shama thrush -- chirped. She gave the number only to family and her two best girlfriends, Shauny and Fawn. She'd never even given it to a guy. Well, except for Scott. Just before he met a tourist from Seattle and moved there. Good riddance, enjoy the rain.
Lily knew the voice like her own. "My God, Mom, are you OK?" she blurted. "I've been trying to get through! How's Donovan?"
"No idea yet." Lily heard one of her mother's other lines go beep-beep. "Oh, wait, dear, let me get this call."
Lily drummed her fingers on the desk while she waited. Her father would be here any moment, and he didn't like to sit around because you're on the phone.
"Sorry, dear," her mother said, popping back on the line. "I have to go, it's the president."
"Of the senate?"
"Of the United States"
"Why?"
"No idea, but I can't keep him on hold, can I? Talk to you later."
And why would the president call a woman so thoroughly tied to the Democrats?
>>Cartwright Field
Siren wailing, the ambulance pulled away with the young woman who had been the lone occupant of Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka's canary yellow Town Car. Which still lay upside down on the first base line of the field named for the father of baseball, Alexander Joy Cartwright Jr. Who was also the first chief of the Honolulu Fire Department. Whose Jaws of Life had hopefully just saved a life here. They were going for the home run,which was a lot tougher today than it usually is at Cartwright.
HPD solo bike Officer Quinn Ah Sun keyed his helmet microphone as he took a detailed look inside the senator's car.
"We got a whole lot of things going on for just one person and one car," he told dispatch. "It's the senator's car. The senator is not here. The lone occupant was a stark-naked young woman, possibly Polynesian or Asian, with no ID and apparently high on ice and drunk on Cuervo Gold when she took the plunge off the Keeaumoku Overpass. She is unconscious and en route to Queen's with a faceful of glass."
That seemed to cover it.
"Suggest you get a forensics team over here ASAP."
"Good job, Solo 27. But you're gonna have to hold down the fort for a while. All of our people are trying to unravel what happened in that H-1 pileup."
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com