My Kind of Town
The sound of Velcro
>> Portlock
Even as he speed-dialed HPD dispatch on his cell phone and asked for "some units," Quinn Ah Sun was mentally beating himself up for not having found some excuse earlier for checking out the house. He'd known it couldn't be just a coincidence that the same faded gray sedan he'd seen following his cousin Lily onto the H-1 from Punahou Street this morning was parked two doors down from Lily's home when they arrived a few minutes ago. Quinn was raised Buddhist and did not believe in coincidences.Leading with his Glock 9mm -- the smaller version that officers are now permitted to carry in an ankle holster --Quinn slowly opened the sliding screen door from the lanai, checked the kitchen and spacious living area.
The woman's terrified screaming followed by the man's painful wailing had stopped moments ago. The female voice, Quinn Ah Sun knew, was Lily's maid Rosalita. The male voice seemed to have come from down a long hall. The two sounds had to be related. Quickly, quietly in bare feet, Quinn checked the kitchen, then moved down the carpeted hall. The only light came from a room at the end of the hall on the right, but he had to first check a bathroom and two bedrooms on the left side of the hallway. Nothing there.
From the room at the end of the hall, Quinn heard the unmistakable sound of a Velcro fastener being ripped open. Hugging the wall, he moved faster in that direction.
>> Lily was not just worrying for a cousin. She was worrying for the man she loved. It took this crisis, this fear of losing him, to turn her heart inside out and make her understand her true feelings. Lily no longer cared whether or not Quinn was her first cousin, no longer cared what the rest of the world might say. She loved him. God, please take care of him.
But at the moment, her first priority was Elizabeth, Rosalita's 6-year-old daughter. Lily and Quinn had been in the backyard garden, on the verge of their second forbidden kiss of the evening, when Rosalita started shrieking from inside the house. Quinn grabbed a pistol from an ankle holster Lily didn't know was there, sprinted for the house and told Lily to lock herself and Elizabeth in the maid's cottage behind the house. Another time, Lily would have smiled at the little girl's purple lips -- from the popsicles Lily had brought home for Elizabeth's sore throat and fever. But not now. Those cute little purple lips were busy saying Hail Marys.
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