Chapter 7
With Archie on his way back from Texas to be with Mom and the boys, Lainie and her father caught a midnight flight to Hawaii to arrive early Sunday morning.
Saying goodbye to the boys was like taking twelve-gauge beanbag rounds at close range to the gut. When Owen gave her a hug, he said, “Aunt Lainie, remind Mom that she has to bring us back one of those tiny guitars they have in Hawaii.”
“Tiny guitar?”
“He means ukelele,” Dad said. “He and Evan want to learn how to play them.”
Lainie gave him a tight hug. “I’ll remind her.”
Stan and Evie were vacationing on the Big Island of Hawaii, in a resort area called Waikoloa Beach.
Lainie had been there before; the family made several trips to Hawaii over the years.
The last time they went, they’d stayed in Kona, which was about an hour from Waikoloa.
Lainie had good memories of the family times.
They’d snorkeled in a place called Two Step.
While Lainie had fun, Evie was a fish. She would have stayed in the water all day if their parents had allowed it.
At least she died doing what she loved.
Lainie squeezed her eyes shut as tears threatened. She leaned her head against the window.
I don’t want it to be true.
After a while, the monotonous hum of the plane’s engines played into her fatigue and Lainie fell into a fitful sleep. When she woke, they were making their approach to Kona Airport.
Her father patted her hand. “You ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The airport in Kona had no Jetway. Passengers deplaned by walking down stairs or a ramp. Warm, humid air hit as Lainie strode down the ramp. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was different than the hot, dry air in Long Beach.
Her father had arranged for an Uber. The guy was waiting at the curb outside baggage claim, and soon they were on their way to Waikoloa.
Thankfully, the driver was not chatty. Lainie did not feel like talking.
The two-lane highway from the airport to the resort was uncrowded, and they moved along at a good speed.
They soon arrived at the Hilton resort where Stan and Evie were staying.
In past trips to this island, Lainie had always enjoyed the view of the ocean on the left and the wild volcanic scenery.
Dawn was breaking and today, she barely saw anything.
She did notice that it was very windy. Every so often their sedan was jostled by a strong gust. When they turned into the resort, palm trees were bent under the wind’s force.
Stan met them in the lobby. It appeared as if he’d not gotten much sleep.
Heavy stubble covered his chin, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.
Still, he turned heads. Lainie could admit that Stan was a handsome man.
A tad over six feet, he had a full head of sandy-brown hair and striking hazel eyes.
He worked out and made use of tanning booths, so he was always an orangey-brown color.
To Lainie, he was a bright container. You were impressed by the outside, until you opened it up and saw that all it contained was grease and dust. Then you heard him speak, and it was like a corny infomercial, “and there’s more!” He primped like a vain movie star. All show and no go.
As he walked toward them today, it looked as if he’d slept in the clothes he wore. Lainie tried to generate sympathy for him, but she couldn’t. It was difficult not to blame him for losing Evie.
Why weren’t you swimming right next to her? Why didn’t you protect her?
While Stan connected with her father, Lainie let her gaze wander around the hotel lobby. The place was huge. It had a tram in the middle and a stream running through the massive ground floor. High-end boutiques rimmed the walkway.
This was their first real vacation in eight years of marriage.
The job he held now was his first steady job in that time frame.
He talked big but never lasted long anywhere.
Used car salesman, real estate agent, day trader.
He’d also tried his hand at YouTube channels.
He talked about investing money on his last channel.
Lainie couldn’t wrap her mind around that.
She’d never seen Stan make a sound financial decision or investment.
Now he managed a car wash. As she thought about it, he’d been there about a year, his longest gig yet. How long would it last? At Christmas, Evie had said that with the car wash, “Stan has finally found his niche.”
If they had the money for this trip, maybe she was right.
Evie was the worship leader at church, and she was paid a small salary. The weeklong stay here must have cost big bucks. She tuned back into the conversation Stan and her father were having when she realized Stan was explaining why no one was searching today.
“The trades are up. It’s too windy for boats or helicopters.”
“When did they stop searching?” she asked.
“Yesterday afternoon, a few hours after I talked to you. That’s when the wind picked up.”
“I want you to show me the beach.”
“Now?” Stan stared at Lainie.
“Yes. Now.”
“Your bags?”
Lainie shot a glance at her father.
“I’ll take them up.” The sadness in his eyes cut Lainie.
“I need to see, Dad.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Lainie turned to Stan. “Let’s go.”
The walk to the beach took about twenty minutes.
They exited the hotel lobby, followed the long, serpentine hotel driveway to the sidewalk, and then walked along the road that wound through the resort area.
Large condos stood on either side, and occasionally they passed tourists or hotel workers.
The Hawaiian name for the beach was Anaeho’omalu.
Lainie had a hard time pronouncing it. Stan simply called it A-Bay.
It was down the coast from the Hilton and behind the Marriott Hotel, and they crossed through its lobby, past the pool—the space was eerily empty as wind buffeted the area—and out to the sandy beach.
They spoke barely at all. The strong wind made it difficult to hear, plus Lainie didn’t really want to talk to Stan.
“Here we are,” he said, when they reached the sand. “They reopened the beach this morning since there were no more shark sightings.”
A few people strolled on the beach, a couple frolicked in the water, diehards, who probably had no other time to get to the water. Gusty wind swirled around them and every so often pelted Lainie with sand. Two catamarans were anchored in the bay, rolling with the swells and small whitecaps.
There was also a kiosk that rented kayaks and paddleboards, but it was closed. The boards and kayaks were securely tied down behind the kiosk.
Lainie started to walk down toward the water. “Where exactly?” she called out to Stan.
It seemed he was reluctant to follow her, and she didn’t care.
He caught up and stood close to her, pointing to the right. “We were swimming over there. There’s coral and it’s shallow.”
“Where did you lose sight of her?”
“She kept swimming to the right. I went toward the left because I saw a turtle. When I looked up to tell her, she was gone.”
“What did you do?”
“I, uh, I searched, and I couldn’t see her anywhere. I swam in, thinking maybe she got out of the water.”
“Then what?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. If he were a suspect, Lainie would say that he took too long to answer. Was it grief? It was so hard to read him clearly.
“A woman on the beach screamed that she’d seen a shark. I walked along the sand, that way.” He pointed to where the beach continued to curve around and then gave way to a trail along the water.
“I didn’t see her. I thought I saw blood. Then I found the bit of snorkel and her mask . . .” His voice trailed off.
Lainie stared at him. Anger swelled up. She simply didn’t believe his story. Was it just that she didn’t like Stan, or were her instincts spot-on? Hands flexing and unflexing, she worked to control her anger.
“When did you call the police?”
“What?”
“How long before you called for help?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I, uh, I wanted to be sure. I mean, Evie loves the water. She could have been anywhere.”
“Why didn’t you stay close to her?”
His face flushed. “You know your sister. She went her own way. What was I supposed to do, put a leash on her?”
Lainie lost it. She raised both hands and shoved him as hard as she could in the shoulders, pushing so hard he almost stumbled and landed on his backside. “You were supposed to take care of your wife. How dare you blame Evie.”
Fury flashed in his eyes. Lainie saw a hardness there she’d never seen before. Where did the pain and grief go?
“You weren’t here, were you? I did everything I could.”
“I don’t believe you. What was the name of the police officer who responded?”
He looked away. “I don’t know the officer’s name, but there was a Detective Yamada. He’ll be back if the wind calms down. I have his card back at the hotel.”
“I want it.”
“Fine.” He was petulant now.
With the wind whipping her hair, Lainie turned back and stared at the choppy water.
Evie, Evie, what happened?
A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “All right, let’s go back.”
She turned on her heel and started back to the hotel, not caring if Stan followed her or not.