"I'm fine, but it's been a stressful day. If it's okay with you I think I'll skip dinner. I'm not that hungry."

"Okay. Well then, just relax. Your father loved this ohana," she said. "He loved to come out here to enjoy the quiet."

When she left, I plopped down on the tropical-print tapestry sofa and ran my hand across the nubby fabric. My dad had sat on that sofa, probably even slept out on it. He'd no doubt looked out the wide windows of the sun porch and gazed at Sleeping Giant Mountain. I wanted to contemplate the enormity of what I'd learned in the past four days but weariness came over me. I stretched out my legs and before I knew it I'd conked out.

CHAPTER 17.

Was the pounding in my head? No, it was coming from somewhere else. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. It was pitch black outside and someone was pounding on the door. I got up but my knees buckled and I plopped back down. I heard a voice yelling my name from the other side of the door.

I shook my head and stood up again. This time I managed to remain vertical. I unsteadily made my way across the dark room to the front door. The pounding and yelling continued. I snapped on the porch light and peered through the peep-hole. I saw the mole on Peggy Chesterton's face magnified to the size of a fist.

I opened the door a crack. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," she said in a slurry voice. "Are you going to let me in or not?"

I pulled the door open and she lumbered inside, tossing her colossal shoulder bag on a chair before flopping down on the sofa. She looked positively wasted. I wondered how she'd managed to get through the locked gate to the property. And I wondered how much she'd had to drink.

"I hear you've been talking to Joanie," she said.

"More to the point, Joanie's been talking to me."

"Yeah, well whatever. Sunny told me Joanie gave you an earful of c.r.a.p about how your mother died. You don't believe any of it, do you?"

Her eyes were so bloodshot she looked like she'd been in a brawl.

"I don't know what to believe," I said. "But it never made sense to me that she just up and died. She was only twenty-five, you know."

"No, but purple have accidents all the time." She'd said purple, but I figured she meant people. No sense in correcting her. The way she was acting, I was pretty sure she wouldn't hesitate to throw a punch.

"That's true."

"And I hear your mom was one of those hippies up at Taylor Camp. Maybe she got high and fell outta her tree house," She shot me a crooked smile.

Maybe a little smack-down wasn't such a bad idea, after all. "Joanie said a guy from a well-known island family came in one night and killed her in a jealous rage. Seems the guy was a pot-head. And afterward, his family covered it up."

"Really?" She'd lost the smile.

"From what I've heard, the Chestertons are one of the most well-known families on Kaua'i. And Sunny tells me your brother AJ was pretty fond of his pakalolo back in the day."

"Ha! My brother and your mother? If what you're implying wasn't so insulting it'd be funny. My brother owns a big chunk of this island and my father was the mayor here for twelve years. Do you think for one minute either one of them gave two shakes about some hippie s.k.a.n.k on the North Sh.o.r.e?"

I got up and jerked the front door open. "You better leave." My hands were shaking and I felt like throwing up.

She came over and stopped in the doorway. She had an odor coming off her that reminded me of something oozing from a hole in the ground. "I'll leave. But before you go shooting your mouth off, you need to remember who you're dealing with. My family's been on Kaua'i since before dirt. Your father used my father's pull to get where he got. If your mom got herself killed, that's too bad. But before you go *slathering' the Chesterton name you better get your facts straight. Because around here, we don't hold grudges. We hold funerals."

I would've chuckled at her use of the word *slather' for *slander' but I was taking her threat seriously.

She lurched out onto the porch. She appeared even more inebriated than when she'd first come in. Before she got to the steps, she turned. "You know, your mother's death wasn't hush-hush. It was all anybody talked about for weeks."

She staggered down the steps and I slammed the door. I winced at the thought that she'd be drunk driving. I hoped she lived nearby.

I headed into Phil's den. If my mom's death had been the gist of local gossip, maybe I'd be able to find something on the computer. I hoped Phil hadn't been so obsessed with peace and quiet that he hadn't had an Internet connection installed.

The computer booted up and thankfully, Phil hadn't set it up with a pa.s.sword. With just a few keystrokes I found the link to the archives of The Garden Island, the local Kaua'i newspaper. I went to the search box and typed in *Ha.n.a.lei murder 1981.' I gripped my shaking hands into fists while the computer took a second to search. But when the results came up, nothing it listed was over five years old. I tried other keywords but still nothing.

The next day was Sunday, so I'd have to stop by the newspaper office on Monday after probate court. I'd also drop by the police station and see if I could bluff my way into getting my hands on the police report. I'd try invoking the Freedom of Information Act. I wasn't exactly sure what the FIA covered or who could use it to get what, but I thought it sounded good.

I logged off the computer and started rummaging through the furniture in the den. The big mahogany desk was first. There were three drawers on each side with a pencil drawer in the middle. The files in the bottom drawers were mostly copies of paid bills and bank statements. I didn't care about any of that. I already knew my dad was rich. I wanted to see if he'd kept any mementos from his days at Taylor Camp.

In a far corner of the pencil drawer I found a tattered envelope so worn it felt more like fabric than paper. Inside was an old black and white photograph; the kind with the date printed in the margin of the white scalloped edge. The date was August 15, 1976-two months after I'd been born. The image was a little blurry but it still made me shiver. It showed three people, a woman in the middle and two men on either side. Looking at the woman's face was like looking in a mirror. It had to be my mother. I'd seen photos in Auntie Mana's sc.r.a.pbooks, but I'd never noticed before how much I resembled her.

The men on either side seemed to be about the same age or maybe a few years apart. One had a full beard and a big smile; the other guy squinted at the camera as if he'd rather be somewhere else. The squinter looked vaguely familiar. High forehead, prominent nose. Perhaps it was Phil in earlier times? It was hard to tell.

I continued rifling through drawers and shelves but didn't find anything else that intrigued me. I went back to the photo. Who was the other guy? Probably a Taylor Camp friend.

I was dead tired, but I didn't want to go into the bedroom and lie down on Phil's bed. I wondered how good it would feel to totally trash this fancy house of my father's. The man who'd abandoned the mother of his child. The guy who'd left my mother to fend for herself among a tribe of weed smokers and dopers. When one of those dopers, most probably A J Chesterton, got hopped up one night and viciously attacked her, where was Philip J. Wilkerson the Third? Nowhere to be found. From where I was sitting, my father was as guilty of my mother's murder as if he'd killed her himself.

I was sick, exhausted, and dizzy. I went into the living room and dived onto the sofa.

I was pretty sure my cell phone was ringing. I opened one eye, then the other. Light streamed through the living room windows. I went through the whole Where am I? What day is this? routine before I was awake enough to answer it.

"Pali, how's it going?" It was Farrah.

"Not one of my better mornings," I said with a voice that sounded like I'd survived a near-strangulation.

She laughed. "Sorry to ha.s.sle you, but I wanted to see how you were doing. You missed a real groovy party last night. Did you hear? Hatch was up for Rookie of the Year and he won! Far out, right? He's been strutting around here like a Chinese peac.o.c.k."

I heard Hatch's laugh in the background.

"Where are you?" I said.

"We're up here at the house. I promised him a big breakfast for taking me last night."

I wasn't even going to ask for clarification on that one.

"Farrah, I'm sorry but I'm feeling kind of sick. Can I call you back in a little while?"

"Don't you want to talk to Hatch?"

"Sure, put him on."

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I said. "Congratulations on being Rookie of the Year."

"Yeah, mahalo. The dinner turned out to be pretty great. So what's going on with you?"

"It's been crazy. My dad's ex-wife told me my mother hadn't died of natural causes. She said my mom was murdered. And now I've found a picture of her here at Phil's house."

"Whoa. Do you believe her? Uh-oh, sorry, but I gotta run. I just got handed a huge plate of French toast with my name on it."

In the background I heard Farrah say. "Which name would that be? *Hatch Decker'? or *Maui Fire Rookie of the Year'?"

They both laughed and Hatch hurriedly said his good-byes and hung up.

I snapped the phone shut. A flash of anger shot through me. Why couldn't I get anyone else to care about this as much as I did? And then it hit me. There were only two people on this earth who'd ever care as much, and I was one of them.

I thought of my little brother running down the beach calling for his mom. Someone had gotten away with her murder and left us orphans. I picked up the black and white photo and scrutinized my mother's face. It'd been thirty years but the killer still had a debt to pay.

And if it took thirty more, I wouldn't rest until I'd collected on that debt.

CHAPTER 18.

Sunny called a few minutes later and invited me to breakfast. My stomach was still roiling, but I needed to eat something. As I made my way over to the main house I noticed Peggy had *gone off the rails' when she left the night before. There were deep tire ruts in the lawn where she'd failed to stay on the road.

Sunny met me at the door with a gla.s.s of guava juice. I love guava and started to drink it but stopped after one gulp. It tasted so sweet it nearly gagged me. I carried the gla.s.s with me to the kitchen and set it on the counter.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"Well, after Peggy left-"

"Oh no, did Peggy come over and bother you? I told her Joanie was just being a b.i.t.c.h. But I thought Peggy should know what she'd told you. It's best to have stuff like that out in the open, don't you think?"

"She acted drunk. Was Peggy drunk when she talked to you?"

"Oh, Phil told me Peggy always had a drinking problem. That's why he finally called it quits. They were married for a long time, but enough's enough. She claims she's sober now, but it doesn't look like it."

Sunny had laid out a huge fruit plate with pineapple, mango, papaya, and bananas all artfully arranged. It looked like something I'd order for a bridal brunch party. There was also a plate of m.u.f.fins and a pitcher of the guava juice. I steered clear of the juice but helped myself to a m.u.f.fin and a large portion of fruit.

I pulled the photo from my purse and showed it to Sunny. She smiled when she recognized who was in it. "That's Phil," she said pointing to the scowling man.

"And who's the other guy?"

"Um, I'm pretty sure that's his brother, Robert."

"The one who killed himself?"

"Yeah." She turned away.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," she said. "Where'd you get that picture?"

I told her about finding it in his desk. She got up and sc.r.a.ped the leftover fruit into the garbage. If I'd had leftover fruit I would've put it in a plastic container in the refrigerator.

She sighed and sat down. "I guess I should tell you. With Joanie mouthing off and Peggy falling off the wagon, it's bound to come out sooner or later. Let's go sit on the lanai. It's nicer out there."

We went outside.

"This is not a happy story, Pali. But you deserve to know the whole story."

She'd known all along? Oh well, better late than never.

"Phil told me what happened was an accident. A really sad accident."

I felt a tightness in my neck and had to roll my shoulders to get the kinks out. I still felt somewhat sick to my stomach so I hoped Sunny's story wouldn't send me fleeing to the bathroom again.

"Your father didn't just up and leave your mother. He cared about her a lot, but he'd run out of money. He asked his parents for help, but instead they demanded he come home to Oregon and go to college. He said he promised himself he'd come back to Kaua'i one day, but he didn't think it was fair to ask your mom to wait for him."

She looked at me as if checking if I was buying what she was selling. I did my best to keep a neutral face.

"Anyway, he said a few years after he was out of the picture Peggy's brother, AJ, tried to put the moves on your mom. She was already hooking up with another guy, but AJ was used to getting his way and wouldn't take *no' for an answer. After all, his dad was the chief of police and all."

"Oh that's right. Peggy's dad was the police chief before he became mayor."

"Yeah, so anyway, one night AJ went all crazy and came after your mom's new lover with a bat. From what Phil told me, your mom tried to break it up. She got between the two guys. n.o.body was exactly sure what happened, but she got hit on the head and she later died. So you see, it wasn't murder; it was just a horrible accident." Sunny stopped and took a deep breath as if recalling a tragic scene she'd rather not revisit.

"But didn't the police investigate? I mean, AJ and this other guy were fighting and my mother got killed."

"Think about it. AJ was the police chief's son. And besides that, according to Phil, back then there was no love lost between the cops and the hippies. Phil said even if the police had tried to investigate, n.o.body would've talked to them."

"So how did Phil hear all this?"

"He said he'd kept in touch with some people he'd known at Taylor Camp."

"So who was the other guy?"

"What other guy?"

"The guy my mom died trying to protect."

"Oh him," said Sunny. "Phil said he and your mom had a baby together. So I guess that would make him your half-brother's father."

"Uncle Robby."