My Kind of Town
>> 2002 Wilder Cop face
Dr. Laurie Tang never used the pool at her condo. Too small for serious swimming, which she needed. Laurie was training for her first Roughwater Swim on Labor Day. But tonight she mostly needed the water to cleanse mind and spirit. She'd had two critical cases at the Queen's ER, both unrelated to the 40-car pile-up on the H-1. But that horrific accident meant ER director Susan Orr needed every available doctor, and they'd all worked late.
Working late just meant that swimming Laurie's usual mile at Ala Moana was out. But her heart and mind were in turmoil, so even a little dog-paddling would help. It's a fact, 15 minutes in the water takes your blood pressure way down -- assuming you're not drowning. After her swim, if you could call it that, she would return the calls from her mother and Detective Sherlock Gomes. She would tell them she had absolutely no idea where her boyfriend had been for three days. Or why a young woman had crashed his car off the Keeaumoku Overpass. Or why her final words before slipping into a coma were "Save the baby."
>> Portlock
"Left here, then it's the third house on the left," Lily Ah Sun said. Her cousin Quinn braked the big truck, turned left. "Just park in the driveway."
But Quinn didn't seem to hear. There, parked on the left two doors down from Lily's home, was the same faded gray sedan he'd seen following Lily onto the freeway this morning after he'd pulled over his long-lost cousin for speeding. He'd called in the license number, but then immediately he was ordered to Cartwright Field, where the senator's car had landed after it crashed off the Keeaumoku Overpass. And then Quinn was ordered to provide security at the capitol for the hate crimes bill rally, which turned into a mini-riot when a skinhead attacked a gay kid. And then the call came from Lily to rescue her because she'd gotten drunk.
"Quinn, you just passed it."
"I know." He braked, turned around, cruised past Lily's home again and stopped behind the gray sedan.
Something had come over him, Lily didn't know what. His eyes narrowed and he seemed to sit more erect, as if on edge. His voice was harder too. It was almost like that show her brother Laird watched as a kid, "Transformers." Quinn reached for his cell phone.
"Quinn, what's wrong?"
"This car."
Lily suddenly understood the transformation. Quinn had just put on his cop face.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com