Banana Split (19 page)

When Sadie entered her condo, she flipped on the lights and finished cleaning up the mess leftover from making pancakes. She’d learned the hard way that leaving any food out invited bugs—ants, cockroaches, and anything else that crawled—so she’d already rinsed everything out, but her dishes still needed to be washed.

It was somewhat shocking that after so many days of such little texture, today could be so full. She’d done Internet research on Noelani, talked to the officer overseeing her case, met Mr. Olie, gotten her hair fixed, met CeeCee and Nat, and seen that Charlie was okay.

Sadie’s thoughts turned to CeeCee. She seemed like a kind woman. She was also a good homemaker, if a bit cluttery with knickknacks and cheap artwork on the wall. She loved her children—foster and adopted—and had an entire wall in her living room brimming with pictures of the boys she’d cared for.
And
she was a great cook. Sadie wanted to like her. Wanted to trust her. Wanted to believe she was a bright light in Charlie’s life. Could she believe in those good things? At least for now?

Chapter 20

Sadie didn’t fall asleep until after midnight despite feeling utterly exhausted. She had to get her circadian rhythm in order before Gayle came. She got up at nine the next morning, however, and spent a few hours cleaning up unit number five—a new family would be checking in that afternoon. Afterward, she took a shower and wrestled with her hair, trying to make it look as good as Lou had—impossible—made some more pancakes for lunch—delicious—and tried to do some basic research information on Nat and CeeCee. Unfortunately, like many people in Hawai’i, they both went by nicknames, and she couldn’t find anything.

Sadie made it to Dr. McKay’s office with far less anxiety than she’d felt last time. She didn’t know how much to tell him, if anything at all. Would telling him what she’d done get Charlie or Mr. Olie in trouble? Could she talk about her goal to answer Charlie’s questions without actually talking about
him
? Maybe she should have canceled, but that worried her too. She’d felt better after her first appointment with Dr. McKay, and she knew both Pete and Gayle would be concerned if she canceled, so here she was, shredding Kleenex for the second time in a week.

Dr. McKay asked how she was. She gave a basic answer, and he looked at her for a few seconds.

“You got your hair done,” he said. “It looks nice.”

Sadie raised a hand to her hair, unable not to smile about the compliment. He was the first person who’d noticed, and she wondered if maybe, as a psychiatrist,
he’d had special training on identifying these types of details—it certainly didn’t come naturally for the typical man. “Thank you.” Would Pete have noticed her hair, she wondered?

“What prompted the change?”

“I was feeling better, and, well, my friend Gayle is coming to visit tomorrow. I couldn’t let her see me so undone.”

“Your friend is coming,” Dr. McKay said. “Tell me about that.”

It was the perfect topic to discuss—safe—and Sadie was able to relax as she explained the plans they’d made. Dr. McKay helped her identify some things that might be difficult—Gayle seeing her anxiety up close, not having so much personal space—and they discussed what Sadie could do to deal with those situations. Dr. McKay offered to talk to Gayle if Sadie felt it would be helpful. Sadie hoped that wouldn’t be necessary, but it felt good to have an option should she need it. He asked if she’d told her family about what had happened, and she explained that she’d talked to Pete every day, but her daughter was on a trip to Africa, studying wildebeest migration, and Shawn had enough on his plate. Dr. McKay didn’t question her choice to not tell Shawn, and she was grateful for that.

“How are the nightmares?”

“Better,” Sadie said, surprised by her own answer. But they
had
been better the last couple of nights. The realization was kind of exciting, and she decided to attempt to explore it with Dr. McKay. “I started learning about Noelani—the woman whose body I found.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You did?”

She nodded, and before she knew it, she was downloading what she’d learned. She had plenty to say without bringing up Charlie. “Even though the toxicology reports won’t be ready for weeks, everyone assumes Noelani overdosed simply because there isn’t any other obvious cause of death.”

“That bothers you?”

“Yes,” Sadie said. “What if she didn’t? What if something else happened, but her past has led to people making assumptions that then are reflected within the investigation. If foul play occurred, the police might miss it if they’re so sure it was drugs.”

“Foul play,” Dr. McKay repeated, still in his neutral position. “What made you jump to that possibility?”

Sadie thought about that and realized there were other possible causes for Noelani’s death other than an overdose or murder. Suicide. An accident. She considered Dr. McKay for a moment before she dared admit why she hadn’t thought of those things. “I’m a magnet for murder,” she said.

Dr. McKay raised his eyebrows. “And why would you say that?”

It wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be to tell him about her history. He made her feel comfortable and safe, and when she admitted the continual fear she had that her involvement was somehow connected to these incidents, he seemed to understand why she would feel that way.

“I wonder why you take on so much responsibility for these things that have happened,” he said when she finished.

“Well, I lived almost fifty-six years without ever coming face-to-face with a murderer, or a murder victim for that matter. In the last year and a half, my life has become overrun with both, and now someone wants to kill
me.
It’s hard to come up with another explanation other than the fact that something about me is . . . inviting these horrible things.”

“Does there have to be an explanation?”

Sadie pulled her eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you have to have a solid answer? Does it have to be your fault or not be your fault? Could it be that events are happening around you that other people might ignore, but you have an interest and ability that draws you in? Maybe for the first fifty-six years of your life you were interested in other things, and then that changed.”

Sadie blinked. It was a completely new idea. A totally different perspective. She thought back over the cases she’d been involved in. Hadn’t she chosen to try to figure out what the police were missing when her neighbor Anne wound up dead in the field behind her house? There had been at least a hundred people present when the gun went off at the library fundraiser, but she had been the only one who put herself into the middle of things. In Oregon, she’d actually been hired to find answers.

Dr. McKay was watching her, and she blinked again. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. But you’re right, I’ve always had the option to not become involved.” She thought on that vein a little longer, then tilted her head and looked strongly at her therapist. “So, perhaps what I should be trying to figure out is why I can’t seem to stay away.”

Dr. McKay nodded and smiled, making her feel like the teacher’s pet. His glance flickered behind her, where she knew a clock hung on the wall. “We’re out of time today, so we’ll have to work on that next week. Before we finish, though, I want to leave you with one thought.”

Sadie nodded, eager to hear what he had to say.

“One of the aspects of anxiety and depression is that the person becomes very self-focused,” he said.

Sadie felt instant shame.

“It’s not right or wrong, Sadie, it’s simply something that can happen. The funny thing about anxiety and depression is that the more you think about it, the more focused on it you become and the bigger part of your life it takes over. My suggestion for you is to look for ways to get outside of yourself a little more. I think learning about Noelani is a good start. And you seem to be feeling better, right?”

“Yes,” Sadie said, but she was thinking about everything she’d done that she hadn’t told Dr. McKay about—Charlie’s list and helping Mr. Olie. It made her feel bad to have not included her therapist in those things, and yet she also felt a boost of confidence that she’d already started on a path he was now recommending.

“Good,” Dr. McKay said, smiling. “Keep those things in mind. Be careful of being too hard on yourself, and good luck with your friend.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card. “This has my cell number. If you need me before our next visit on Monday, give me a call, okay?”

Chapter 21

It was invigorating to feel as though everything she’d done was conscious rather than accidental or somehow fated. She’d made choices, and they had led her in certain directions that hadn’t always been positive, but right now she was safe from the threat that had followed her since Boston. She was on a tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. She had changed her cell phone number, e-mail, and used her Facebook account only to read other people’s statuses—she hadn’t updated her own in months. Only a handful of people knew where she was. The hiding place she’d chosen had worked. Circumstances hadn’t changed from a week or a month ago, but something inside her had. Empowerment? Was that the word for it?

Sadie let herself into her condo and locked the door. One, two, three. Then she pulled out Charlie’s list. She could maintain control of this, she could stop whenever she wanted to, but she might also be able to do some good, and doing something for someone else might be the key to her own healing. Come Monday, she might have a much more interesting discussion with Dr. McKay.

She immediately went to her computer and opened up a new document, typing notes as quickly as she could remember them. After she’d dumped all the info onto the page, she organized it into what she’d learned from whom and then took a few minutes to type out all the questions she had. They were extensive and a little overwhelming. She had hoped to hear from Mr. Olie, but realized she hadn’t given him her number except on the voice mail she’d left yesterday morning, before they’d met. Maybe tomorrow she’d call his office and see if he had any kind of update. She called Pete and talked to him about her day, and by the time she was finished, she was energized enough to go to Kalaheo.

Pete had suggested she stay the night at the motel where Noelani had worked in Kalaheo so she’d have time to talk to the people Noelani had worked with and wouldn’t have to try to find a way back to Puhi if she stayed late. Sadie thought it was a great idea, and it took all of five minutes to pack her laptop, an extra muumuu, and a change of underclothes. She folded the stack of papers she’d printed off—articles, Noelani’s obituary, and the photo of Noelani and Charlie—and threw them in along with her deodorant almost as an afterthought. Everything fit easily in her shoulder bag, and for an instant she considered how the old Sadie would pack everything she could possibly imagine needing while she was away. She’d have lists and maps, and she’d have triple-checked everything. Should she be doing that now? Considering every contingency? After another moment of contemplation, however, she pushed the thought aside—just thinking about it made her tired. And how often had she actually used the space blanket or fabric scissors?

She took a deep breath. Stood. Squared her shoulders and called a cab. By the time it arrived, her anxiety was creeping up on her but being dropped off at the Sand and Sea Motel in Kalaheo reaffirmed her decision was the right one—doing something seemed to make all the difference.