My Kind of Town
>> Arizona Memorial The flower bomber
Muhammed Resurreccion retrieved the plastique from a canvas bag taped to the bottom of the driver's seat. He pressed it into the bottom of the flower bouquet, molded it like putty around the base of the stems as florists sometimes do to preserve cut flowers. He then pressed a radio-receiver/blasting cap microchip into the plastique, embedded it all the way.
Muhammed was feeling pretty good about the world until he closed the silver-blue van's passenger door and saw a familiar car -- a champagne Intrepid with tinted windows -- waiting for a parking space. The same car that had followed them from town and had continued past the Arizona Memorial. Only to double back, apparently. A tourist who missed his turn? Or some kind of U.S. agent?
Muhammed's heart began to race. He had to get these flowers into his niece Elizabeth's hands as soon as possible. He locked up the van, glanced again at the golden car, but could not see the driver behind his tinted windows. Walking back across the lot, he scanned for other agents, but none stood out. Armed and dangerous, Muhammed walked with the flower-bomb in his left hand, his right caressing the remote key in his pocket.
>> Kalihi at Nimitz
Lily Ah Sun braked her teal BMW for the red light, waved to the street hawker selling the afternoon Star-Bulletin. She gave him a dollar, waved off the change, glanced at the front page. Beneath the fold a three-deck headline over a one-column story caught her eye: Bloody/Death/At Portlock.
"Oh my God."
It was the guy who had broken into her house and was trying to rape her maid Rosalita Resurreccion until Lily's cousin Quinn came to the rescue, took a bullet to the thigh, but also shot the creep. Mickey Musselwhite was his name. He had 63 priors and died a few feet from Lily's property.
Oh God, Quinn had killed a man. The driver behind her honked. Yikes, the light had turned green. Lily accelerated through the intersection. She couldn't imagine the guilt he was feeling, but knew that he must need her now more than ever. For the moment, she would just put aside her anger. She owed her cousin that much at least.
>> Queen's Medical Center
As much as he enjoyed holding hands with off-duty nurse Nina Ramones, Quinn Ah Sun was going berserkowitz cooped up in this room.
"Any chance you can get me out of here for a few minutes, Nina?"
"Dr. Wong says you're ready for a wheelchair."
"Let's cruise!"
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