Free Banana Split by Josi S. Kilpack

her at work, but it was found off the Kuhio highway the next morning with an empty gas tank. It was impounded, and the owner recovered it the following day.”
     
    “So, you think she ran out of gas, went to a party, and overdosed?”
     
    “Or someone tried to return the car and ran it dry,” he said. “Most overdose victims die alone in a back room where they’ve been left to sleep it off. When the people she was with realized she was dead, they likely took her to the beach and threw her in, probably thinking she’d be washed out with the tide. We think she got caught under the dock before low tide took her out to sea. Otherwise, she likely would have washed up on the beach.”
     
    Sadie didn’t realize until he stopped speaking that she’d frozen some time during his recitation of the facts. She’d asked for them, but hearing the details put her right back at the dock. It was all she could do to push away the pictures in her mind; she couldn’t even take notes because her hands were shaking. But she knew she couldn’t waste this opportunity to get information, and she forced herself to pay attention.
     
    “We didn’t connect Ms. Pouhu to the car until she was officially reported missing almost a week later.”
     
    Sadie had heard that part before and frowned. “Do you know why it took so long for her disappearance to be reported?”
     
    “From talking to her associates, they assumed she’d relapsed and would either show up eventually or go back to O’ahu.”
     
    “So they weren’t very worried about her,” Sadie summarized. Maybe Noelani had been a loner and no one knew her very well. “And phone records? Did she have a cell phone that showed who she called that night?”
     
    “The last call she made from her cell phone was to the employee who covered her shift and loaned her the car,” Officer Wington said. “And none of the other numbers have opened up a new lead.”
     
    “Who was the employee?”
     
    “That’s beyond the scope of information I can give you, Mrs. Hoffmiller.”
     
    “Of course, I’m sorry,” she said, flushing slightly even though his reprimand was mild.
     
    “I’ve given you more detail than I normally would,” he said, “but Detective Cunningham indicated that being open with you would be helpful for your situation.”
     
    “It is helpful,” Sadie said, liking that Pete thought she was strong enough to handle it, even if she was still unsure. “I appreciate it very much.”
     
    “Is there anything else?”
     
    “Yes, just a few more things. How’s her son doing?”
     
    “I’m sure it’s been difficult for him,” Officer Wington said. “All of my communication goes through the caseworker.”
     
    Sadie felt her chin quiver slightly as she wrote “Charlie” on the paper, with a frowny face next to it. She hurried to the next topic.
     
    “I guess they can’t do a funeral if they’re still doing tests and things.”
     
    “The testing is merely done on tissue samples. The actual body was released earlier this week. Her ashes were scattered as part of the memorial service yesterday morning.”
     
    “Oh,” Sadie said, both surprised and disappointed. “I didn’t realize she’d been cremated.” Wasn’t that unwise in an open case? What if something was discovered in the autopsy reports and the body needed to be exhumed for verification? Wait . . . the memorial service was yesterday? That meant Charlie had come to see her just hours afterward. He’d been at the service, listening to people say farewell to his mother, and remained unconvinced that she was gone.
     
    “Common practice on the islands and far less expensive. Is there anything else?”
     
    He was clearly ready to get on with the rest of his day, and she couldn’t think of anything else to ask. “No, thank you,” she finally said. Mahalo was the Hawaiian word for thank you, but she always felt out of place when she said it. “I appreciate your taking the time to talk