My Kind of Town
>> Portlock It gets better
Lily Ah Sun flipped a switch beside the sliding screen door to her house and behind her a half-dozen tiki torches began to flame in a lush garden. Another switch and the swimming pool light came on, revealing a pool surrounded by what looked like lava rocks and more vegetation, not so much swimming pool as lovely cove. Another switch and a waterfall began to cascade into the pool.
"Nice," Quinn said.
"It gets better." She took him by the hand, started across the lanai toward the pool and the garden beyond. "I'll show you."
Quinn wasn't sure how it could get any better. On second thought, it could. The gray sedan parked two doors down from Lily's house, the same gray sedan he'd seen following Lily onto the H-1 this morning, could be just a coincidence. But Quinn was raised Buddhist and did not believe in coincidences. Things happened for a reason. At the moment, though, Lily's hand felt so perfect in his. "I'll follow you anywhere."
Oh, the places Lily wanted to take him.
>> In the master bedroom, having already cut away the Filipina maid's blouse and bra, exposing and humiliating her, Mickey kneeled above her and kept her chest and arms pinned with one big leg, and with one hand kept the .22 pistol pointed at her nose. With the other hand he slipped the gleaming 12-inch blade of a butcher knife between her soft brown skin and the tan linen pants she wore, and sliced them open from the waist to the knee. And then he started on the other leg. "Remember, one tiny sound and ..." Again he waved the pistol in her face.
Again Rosalita nodded, never ceasing to pray.
>> Makiki Heights Drive
Driving back down the hill after his visit with Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka, mushing what he knew about the case around his head, HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes had to ask himself:
Dr. Laurie Tang: a suspect in the crash of the senator's car?
Not likely, but her prints were in the car. And she had a motive, possibly, if she knew about the relationship between the senator and Serena Kawainui. Only one way to find out. Ask her.
When he was out of the office, Gomes had calls to his office number automatically forwarded to his cell. Checking messages, he found one from Dr. Tang. She left a home number. Sherlock Gomes dialed it.
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