My Kind of Town
>>Queen's Medical Center
The conversation with his mother ended, Quinn Ah Sun set the phone back in the cradle, but his cousin Lily still lay in his hospital bed beside him.
Their hearts raced, as much from arousal as what Flo Kajiyama Ah Sun just told them.
"Bobo is like Carmen Hedlund!" Lily blurted.
"I saw an item in one of the columns the other day, I think Eddie Sherman, asking whatever happened to Carmen Hedlund. When I was growing up, she was the queen of local fashion, and then she just disappeared after being so prominent. Like Bobo. He was in the papers all the time but then, after the postcard to Donnelly from Miami saying he's not dead after all, nothing."
"You know what else is weird? My mom, when I mentioned the postcard was the last time Bobo'd been heard from, she said 'Of course not.'"
And then she had to run -- had to get to work, she said. Like a professional gambler has a time clock to punch. Sixteen years after she'd left him and his dad, Quinn was again feeling a stab in his heart.
When his mom left, it hadn't broken his heart. Severely lacerated, yes. But not broken. And she'd just ended their conversation so abruptly, he felt a little like that now. He pulled Lily closer, kissed her silky hair.
This was exactly where Lily wanted to be -- in Quinn's arms. She kissed him, then pulled back. "I just had an idea! Tony Martinez!"
"Does he have anything to do with Carmen Hedlund too?"
"No, he's the guy who filed the missing persons report for Bobo!"
"With Mauka Showers." The band that had the hit holiday song I'm Working On My Buddhahood This Christmas. "Let's call him!"
>> Above Waialua
All in all, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka would rather have been governor. And he'd come so close -- just one little wiggly sperm. The one that impregnated Serena. The Dems' top candidate marry an ex-stripper? No chance. And so she'd gotten drunk and crashed his car. Which led Sherlock Gomes to his door, to Donovan's arrest and, ultimately, to his being rescued by a gang who thought they were grabbing their leader. So here he was, their new leader, overseeing the boys as they loaded the van with $100,000 worth of ice. And a bunch of guns. And Lingle thought her job was treacherous.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be e-mailed at firstname.lastname@example.org